Today's Promises (15 page)

“It so pretty,” he whispers in awe.

Jaynie nudges my arm and murmurs, “Better than nutrition bars, yeah?”

“Much better,” I agree, shaking my head as I recall last year and my sad attempt with Mandy to make the twins’ birthday special.

Mandy starts humming the opening notes of “Happy Birthday,” our cue to start singing, and I catch her eye. When she smiles over at me sadly, I know she’s also remembering last year.

“You made up for it today,” I mouth once we’re done singing.

That makes Mandy smile.

Later, once the candles have long been blown out, and the kids have dug into their cake—like literally, as in we let them eat with their hands since it’s their day—I pull Mandy aside.

“Hey, I just wanted to tell you again that you really made this day special for the twins.” I nod down to Cody and Callie, who are sprawled out on the floor, smiling and laughing, still eating cake. “Those two are truly happy today.”

Mandy closes her eyes. “God, Flynn, thank you for saying that. Their happiness means so much to me.” She opens her eyes and peers up at me. “I swear I try, I really do. But I still find myself questioning if it’ll ever really be enough.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. “You’re doing a great job with the kids. You always have.”

“Thanks for saying that, but it’s just… They’ve been through so much, you know?”

“We all have,” I reply.

“Yeah, we sure have,” she agrees, sighing.

“The twins are young,” I remind her. “They’re more resilient than us. Plus, because of
you
fostering them, it’s really like they’re out of the system.”

“Yeah,” she says, her tone laced with regret, “I sure wish I’d gotten out of the system at eight.”

“I think we all wish that for ourselves, Mandy.”

“We do what we can, though, right?”

“Yeah, we do.”

My eyes meet hers and I realize for the first time that, despite her I’ve-got-it-together demeanor, Mandy is broken too. Hence the ice cream eating issues. I wonder what else she’s dealing with in the aftermath of what we went through.

“I’m just glad I have Josh to keep me sane,” she tells me. “He helps me keep my shit together.”

Josh is over on the sofa, talking with Jaynie.

Jerking my chin in that direction, I say to Mandy, “He seems like a really good dude. Is he still getting along well with the twins?”

“Oh, good God, yes,” she exclaims, her expression brightening. “Cody and Callie love him to death. He may as well be their biological father.”

A little tinge of regret hits me that I couldn’t be more for Cody and Callie. But Mandy and I were never a couple; we never saw each other like that. The kids deserve parents who are committed to one another, and I would never begrudge them that.

“Are you still planning to adopt the twins?” I ask.

Mandy nods. “Yes, definitely. We have more classes to attend first. Plus, Josh and I need to be married.”

I nudge her arm. “Ooh, Mandy Sullivan, someone’s old lady. Who would’ve thunk it?”

She bats me in the arm, with a warning to, “Shut the hell up, Flynn.”

“Okay, okay.”

I dodge a few more smacks, and when my beat-down has concluded, Mandy says, “So, speaking of relationships… How’s everything with you and Jaynie?”

“Fantastic,” I reply immediately. “As always.”

She chuckles and peers down at the paper plate she still has in her hand. Tiny crumbs, what’s left of her slice of cake, lie submerged in a puddle of melted ice cream. Not one to waste food—none of us ever would—Mandy raises the plate to her lips and slurps down what’s left.

“Good to the last drop,” she remarks as she deposits her empty plate in the trash bag Jaynie dragged in earlier for the spent plates and gift wrapping from the presents the twins tore into a short while ago.

“Always,” I agree.

She dabs at her mouth with a napkin, and then says softly, “Can I ask you another question, Flynn?”

“Sure.”

“Besides your relationship going well, how are you and Jaynie adjusting to the real world.”

I shrug. “Eh, we’re adjusting, I guess. To be honest, though”—I let out a sigh—“I think I’m doing better at it than Jaynie.”

“Yeah?” Mandy leans back against the wall. “How so?”

“Well…” I glance over to the couch to make sure Jaynie’s still wrapped up with talking to Josh. When it’s clear she is, I tell Mandy, “Jaynie still has a lot of nightmares.” She nods knowingly, lending further credence that her issues run deep too. “And,” I go on, “this thing with Allison potentially getting out this summer has set Jaynie back in a lot of other ways.”

Mandy doesn’t ask for elaboration, not that I’d tell her. Some things are just way too personal.

Sensing my uneasiness at this turn in the discussion, Mandy narrows the topic to the investigation, which is far more welcome to me.

“Jaynie told me you met with the detective on the case,” she begins.

“Yes, yes, we did.”

Frowning, Mandy says, “She also told me about the excavation.”

I shake my head. “Yeah, that. Nothing’s come of it. At least, not yet.”

After a long beat where I suspect she’s thinking this through, Mandy says, “Why are the police so focused on just the old barn? Why not dig around in other places on the property?”

I blow out a breath. “Trust me, we wanted that to happen. But the detective claimed it wasn’t realistic. Apparently, without a damn good reason, there’s not a judge in this state who’ll sign a court order to dig up the whole damn place.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Yeah, it is.”

We watch the twins play for a minute, and then Mandy says, “You know what, though, Flynn? All the property doesn’t need to be excavated.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Forget about the old barn, is what I’m saying.” Mandy shakes her head. “What about the space where the
new
barn is located, the barn
we
worked in?”

She may be onto something. “Talk to me, Mandy,” I say, urging her on.

“This is no sure thing,” she prefaces. “All I’m going on here is pure speculation. It’s just that ever since I talked with Jaynie, I’ve been thinking about the Debbie Canfield case. And I keep trying to pin where she fits into the timeline.”

Intrigued that the always-clever Mandy might be on to something, I ask, “So, what’d you come up with?”

“Well, for starters, haven’t you always wondered why a new work barn was built in the first place?”

I shrug. “No, I never really thought about it.”

“Well, think about it now, Flynn. Think like Mrs. Lowry and Allison would have.”

“Must I?” I deadpan.

“Yes,” she replies. “Because from their perspective, you have to be thinking why spend that kind of money—money you could be lining your own pockets with, mind you—on a nice, new facility for kids you don’t even care about. Why would they do that, Flynn, why?”

“I have no idea,” I admit.

Mandy goes on, her excitement building, “Well, I think I do. Would they build a new work barn so we can have a better work environment?”

“Ha, right. No way.”

“See, it just doesn’t make any sense, not with those two. I mean, when did Mrs. Lowry, or Allison, ever care about doing nice things?”

“Never,” I state.

“Exactly.”

And then it starts to dawn on me. “Whoa, wait. So, just to make sure I’m clear on this, you’re saying you think the new barn was built to—”

“—hide something in a place no one would ever suspect,” Mandy finishes for me.

“Holy shit,” I murmur.

Fuck, what if Mandy’s right?

Jaynie

“W
ell, that’s it, Flynn. It’s settled. We absolutely must go back to the Lowry property.”

He groans, because he knows I’m right.

I crack the passenger window for some much-needed air as we pull away from Mandy’s house.

“As much as I despise that place,” I go on, “I just don’t see how we can avoid a return visit. We need to check things out in the work barn, especially after hearing what Mandy had to say.”

Flynn and Mandy shared what they’d been discussing—her new theories on the missing girl’s body—shortly after the twins went to bed. I was immediately up for a return visit to the Lowry property. Flynn, not so much. I know it’s only ’cause he loves me. But he worries far too much.

“I think we can avoid going back. If we want to, that is,” Flynn says, his expression grim as I glance over at him.

His mouth is set and he’s staring straight ahead at the road before us. His hands are clenched tightly to the steering wheel.

“And how do we do that?” I ask, curious as to what he has up his sleeve.

“We just call Detective Silver, Jaynie. We give him a heads-up on this new theory. He then takes what we give him and does all the investigating that needs to be done. Remember, the Debbie Canfield case is his responsibility. Not ours.”

I let out a snort of disbelief. “I can’t believe
I’m
the one having to talk
you
into going back to the Lowry property. Talk about an about-face on the subject.”

“Why are you so dead set on going back there?” he asks, perplexed.

“Because we need more than Mandy’s suspicions if we expect Detective Silver to schedule another excavation. Remember what he said about a judge issuing a court order for a more thorough search?”

“Yeah, he said we needed more evidence.”

“Exactly! So let’s go find some.”

When we reach the interstate exit ramp for Lawrence, Flynn slows down considerably. I hadn’t even noticed he was going so fast, but I guess he was. Stress can do that to you.

Exhaling, Flynn murmurs, “Jaynie, Jaynie…”

“What?”

“I think we need to talk about this.”

“I thought we
were
talking,” I counter.

“I mean a more in-depth discussion. There’s a lot at stake here.”

“Like what?” I genuinely want to know.

He glances over at me, one brow raised. “Well, for starters, your well-being is a huge concern.”

Ah, Flynn is worried this will be too much for me, seeing as I’m already on shaky ground.

“Okay, pull over,” I quietly state.

At the end of the ramp, there are several big, empty lots on either side of the road. These are turnouts where sleepy truckers can pull in and catch a few
z
’s. It’s one of the larger ones that Flynn pulls into now.

I guess he’s hoping no one bothers us. I don’t see that as a problem. It’s late and full night has fallen. The only things around are the crickets chirping in the background and the big full moon in the sky. Besides that, there’s not a soul in sight, not even a passing car.

I stare out at the quiet darkness and say, “So, let’s talk.”

Flynn unbuckles his seat belt and twists to face me. His expression is already pained.

“Jaynie,” he begins, “I know you’re all gung-ho about going back to the Lowry house, but I suspect you’re not fully thinking it through. Like, how about what going back there does to you? Returning to that place is like making a pit stop in Hell. Don’t deny it. You know I’m right.”

He is right, but this isn’t about me.

Standing my ground, I say, “We
have
to go back, though.”

“Not necessarily,” he replies.

“What do you mean?”

“Detective Silver can just go talk with Mandy if he wants more input. Maybe he could even take her up to the property, have her look around the way we did.”

“It
needs
to be us,” I softly declare. “I feel like we started this journey with Detective Silver, and we need to finish it. Besides, Mandy lives too far away. And she has the twins to take care of.”

He knows I’m right, but still he maintains, “I just don’t know about this, Jaynie.”

Flynn’s real concern is clear, and I just go ahead and say what he can’t…or won’t.

“You’re afraid I’ll backtrack even more if things don’t go well. You saw that I was making progress…until no evidence was found up in the old barn. And then it got worse when Detective Silver asked for my story and it was useless without hospital records to back up my claims.”

“Jaynie—”

“No.” I put up my hand. “Let me finish, Flynn. Let me talk it out.”

“Okay,” he whispers.

I take a breath, blow it out. This isn’t easy, but it’s time we lay it all out on the table.

“Now, you’re scared,” I say. “You’re afraid if we go back and find nothing at all, I will end up worse than ever. And really,” I scoff, “let’s face the facts. I don’t have that far to go to reach rock bottom.”

“You were way better today,” he counters, his voice so stressed, like saying it can make it true.

“Only because we were with Mandy and the twins. I’m sure I’ll feel like shit by tomorrow.”

“Jaynie, stop,” he pleads.

But I go on. I have to. “You’re worried I may eventually reach a point of no return, right?”

No response.

“You’re right, Flynn. I could. But that might happen whether we go back or not. So see, we must go back. We have to try. If the outcome is good, it’ll benefit not just the detective, but you and me.”

“And if it’s not?” he croaks out.

“I have to be honest. I don’t know.”

“Then, forget it,” he hisses.