Just Between Us (The Kings)
Just Between Us: Chapter 26

Royal’semotional breakdown had left my heart in tatters. In the dark, something had clicked—like a fierce and intense side of me was finally unlocked, and I was determined to rain down hellfire on anyone who dared hurt the man I loved.

Particularly Russell fucking King.

I glared at him over my macchiato espresso from the window seat at the Sugar Bowl as he casually chatted with someone across the street. Dressed in a pair of taupe khaki pants, boat loafers, and a short-sleeved polo, he looked like any other wealthy vacationer in Outtatowner. His pinkie ring glittered in the afternoon sun, and I ground my molars together.

A gentle hand landed on my back, and Sylvie leaned over my shoulder. “It’s better if you just pretend he doesn’t exist.” She shrugged. “That’s what I do, and it helps.”

My nostrils and hatred flared in tandem. “I don’t think I am capable of doing that.”

“Well, if you grip that mug any harder, you’re going to crush it and make a mess.” She tipped her head toward my white knuckles as I clutched my ceramic coffee cup.

I released my grip and let out a sharp exhale. “Can I ask you something?”

Sylvie leaned a hip against the window-front counter and flipped the white dish towel onto her shoulder with a pretty smile. “Anything.”

My face scrunched as I mentally tried to put the pieces together with my working timeline. “Has Duke ever mentioned seeing footprints or tire tracks on the farm? Or maybe even near the Sullivans’ house? Anything like that?”

Sylvie’s eyebrows raised and she nodded. “Oh yeah, it’s a whole thing.” I sat up to listen and she continued: “Every once in a while they’ll replace ATV tracks or footprints. For a while I think everyone assumed it was hikers wandering off the trail, but Duke is suspicious.” She playfully rolled her eyes. “He’s always suspicious.”

I offered a tight smile and tipped my head. “What can you tell me about Bootsy?”

Sylvie’s smile faltered. “He’s pretty harmless . . . I think. A couple of times he’s been extra creepy, but for the most part it’s just sad—the hold my dad has on him. I also tend to ignore him.” She leaned in. “Which I advise you to do too.”

I nodded into my coffee cup. “Thanks.”

“Well, that’s my cue.” Her eyes flicked toward the glass door, and she straightened. I followed her gaze to see Russell King headed across traffic and straight toward the bakery. “See you tonight at the Bluebirds?”

I nodded, and Sylvie slipped past the patrons and disappeared through the saloon-style doors to the kitchen.

When Russell entered, he was immediately recognized. Old ladies swooned. Others offered polite hellos and dainty handshakes. He was making the rounds in the bakery, greeting everyone and making friendly small talk. Nearly everyone in the bakery was enchanted by his smooth smile and fawning attention.

My blood boiled.

I knew exactly what he was doing. Ever since Casselyn started probing townies about Maryann’s disappearance, soft rumblings were floating around town. Russell King was trying to control the narrative.

Movement from the kitchen caught my eye, and I watched as Sylvie walked through, wearing her mother’s favorite denim jacket. Her head was held high, and she smiled as she greeted customers and helped to clear plates. My attention bounced between Sylvie and her father.

I was close enough to him to hear him stop midsentence when he finally saw his daughter. He blanched and coughed to attempt to hide his visceral reaction, but I had seen it. He paled instantly.

As if he’d seen a ghost.

Unfazed, Sylvie acted as though her father didn’t exist while he stared at her with a shocked expression. His right hand shook, and I knew he was losing it. The man was used to playing checkers to win, and we were playing chess.

A sick, satisfied thrill shot through me to see him unraveling so publicly. A wicked idea sparked and instantly I was on my feet.

With my cup still clutched in my hand, I brushed past him, tripping on the tip of his shoe. Coffee splashed over the rim of my mug and onto his chest in a seeping brown stain.

“Oh my!” I covered my mouth to keep from laughing. “I am so sorry!”

Fury and rage flashed in his eyes as his head swiveled toward me. I bristled at his angry glare and held his stare with an intensity of my own.

I would not allow him to intimidate me.

He brushed at the spot on his shirt as the wet stain grew. I flicked my hand in an attempt to shake off the mess, while also intentionally flicking droplets of coffee onto his face.

“Oops, I just didn’t see you there,” I said. “Hey, Syl?” I called, and Sylvie looked at us with a grin. “Can we get this guy here something to clean himself up with?”

Her shoulder lifted as though she couldn’t care less. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I smiled at her back as she walked toward the kitchen, her denim jacket on full display. I turned toward Russell. His eyes were pinned to the embroidered flowers on Sylvie’s back.

I sighed wistfully. “Sylvie is so pretty, isn’t she? I swear she looks just like her mom.” I tilted my head when his cold eyes slid to me. “Don’t you think?”

Before he could mutter an answer, I left him, sputtering and soaked in coffee, as I swiveled on my heels and strode out of the bakery.

Was it petty, a little reckless, and more than childish?

You’re damn right it was.

The air at the Bluebird Book Club buzzed with unease. The mood was shifting in Outtatowner, and I got the sense that no one really knew what to do about it. I grabbed a lemonade and sat on a mustard-colored velvet settee near Kate Sullivan.

Her sister-in-law Lark leaned over. “It’s good to see you again.” I smiled and she scooted toward me. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Lark,” Kate hissed. “Don’t badger her.”

Puzzled, I shrugged. “It’s fine. Go ahead.”

“We’ve all heard the rumors that you and Royal are together.” Lark glanced away. “Um . . . did you happen to meet before you came here?”

Panic skittered under my skin as I thought about our private chats on Pulse. My lower lip jutted out, and I shook my head. “Nope.”

We hadn’t met in person, so it wasn’t technically a lie. I pushed down the tiny ping of guilt for lying to my new friends.

Lark frowned and shrugged. “Hmm. Okay.” She scooted forward again. “So . . . how’s the cuddling with him?”

Annie laughed. “Lark! What is your deal?”

Lark sighed as I laughed. “Um . . . it’s great?”

Her mouth twisted. “Okay. I just thought because . . . you know . . . how he was on that cuddle partner thing. I thought maybe you met there. I just worry about him sometimes, you know?”

My eyes went wide as Annie laughed. “Oh my god! That’s the secret you’ve been keeping for Royal all this time?”

“Shh!” Lark swatted in her direction. “I promised I wouldn’t tell. Shit! Now he’s going to replace out I spilled the beans.” She looked at me, trying to explain. “Okay, so he helped me out of a jam, and in exchange I had to use my acting skills and pretend like I was an old girlfriend of his—a reference, really! It was for a . . . cuddle partner site? People . . . looking to cuddle?”

The more she went on, the more ridiculous it sounded. I couldn’t help but laugh. All this time Lark still thought Royal signed up for Pulse because he was lonely and needed a cuddle partner.

Lark’s hand flew to her mouth, and her worried eyes looked at the group. “Did I screw up?”

I shook my head and placed my hand on her knee. “Not at all. I knew about that.”

I wanted to tell her how insane it was to think that someone like Royal needed any help in the intimacy department, but part of me knew Royal liked the ridiculousness of Lark thinking he needed a cuddle buddy.

He found it truly hilarious, so I opted to keep his secret.

I looked around the book club and observed groups of women huddled together, whispering and looking over their shoulders. My smile faded as I watched Bug stand at the front of the room with a cool, indifferent expression.

Royal had told me what she had experienced with her brother, and I wondered whether all that time living under his thumb had hardened her. In the end, she had chosen to give up her goals in life to ensure Royal and his siblings were safe.

But instead of breaking her, I got the sense that it made her stronger.

Bug raised a hand and a hush fell over the group of women. She lifted her chin. “There are some things that need to be discussed tonight. But first”—she looked around the room—“I need to know that whatever is shared here this evening does not leave the Bluebirds.”

A murmur of agreement and nods floated through the crowd of women. Tootie Sullivan stood next to Bug in a silent show of support.

“I have known many of you for a very long time. Others”—she looked at me—“I’m only beginning to know. But we’re all Bluebirds. That means we’re bonded.” Bug’s hands clasped in front of her. “For a long time I thought that what I didn’t know couldn’t hurt those I loved.” She sighed. “I couldn’t have been more wrong. My intentional ignorance has hurt those I hold most dearly. It’s time to stop pretending. It’s time to uncover the truth.” Her eyes glittered with emotion. “But I need your help.” Her hands fell. “I don’t know what to do.”

MJ had a hand pressed to her heart as she listened to her aunt’s plea.

Tootie stepped forward. “Whatever it is, we’re in it together. Start from the beginning.”

With a resolute breath, Bug stood tall. “My brother, Russell King, is not the man he pretends to be. Most of you remember that his wife left many years ago, leaving the children behind. As it turns out, my brother has been leading a double life.”

Soft gasps floated through the shocked crowd.

“He has a wife and children in another state,” she continued. “More shockingly, new information has come to light . . . information that makes our family question the safety of Maryann King.”

Tootie clasped Bug’s hand and squeezed. My eyes were transfixed on their connection—two women from sides sworn against each other, uniting in friendship. “What can we do to help?”

Bug gestured toward me. “Veda?”

My eyes widened, but I slowly stood. I glanced over at Sylvie who smiled and nodded in encouragement. I made my way toward the front of the room.

I cleared my throat and adopted my most competent boardroom voice. “Hi. I’m Veda Bauer. I have been assisting the Kings, specifically in uncovering information about King Equities. Ms. Bug is correct—things are not entirely as they seem. Currently we’re gathering additional information regarding the whereabouts of Maryann King. If you have any information you think is important, please say something. Something you saw, old rumors, business dealings—anything at all can be the key to unlocking what could have happened to her.”

I stepped back to be in line with Bug.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

From the back, a woman stood and placed a hand over her heart. “Bug, we’re in it together.”

My chest pinched.

Another stood, her hand across her chest. “We’re in it together.”

One by one the women stood, each placing a hand over her heart. “In it together.”

I grinned to ward off the tears.

With the Bluebirds united, Russell King didn’t stand a chance.