Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead. But what if one person is keeping a secret and another person really, really, really wants to find out what that secret is? Well, then things get complicated.
Edward still hadn't come over by the time the girls headed out, or when Charlie came home, looking like a few hours out of the house had taken years off his age. I felt guilty again about how much time he was spending with me. But when I offered to let him off the hook for dinner, he insisted that we go.
Cora's diner was quiet when we walked in. She greeted us with a much smaller smile than usual. She looks different, I thought. She was wearing black instead of her usual bright colors. What's wrong?
A minute later, I remembered that Waylon had been one of James' victims. It's my fault he's dead, I realized, feeling my heart twist. If not for me, James would never have come here. I wished I could apologize.
Charlie put one hand on her shoulder as she dropped menus at our table. "How are you holding up?"
Cora smiled again, a little wanly. "Doin' all right. It's a little lonesome."
"Let me know if you need anything done around the place," Charlie said gently. I wasn't used to seeing him be so emotive.
Is it because he's being Chief Swan right now? Or is there something between him and Cora? Since starting to wonder about my father's love life, I couldn't seem to stop, even if the idea of him having a girlfriend felt about as alien as the idea of him taking a trip to Mars.
She left us to study the menu. Out of habit, I skipped straight down to the salads, but something drew my eye back up to the entrees.
Do I still want to be a vegetarian? I wondered. It feels a little silly when I'm dating a vampire. But it wasn't like I could just start eating meat again with no warning. Can't that make you really sick?
I decided to stick with a salad for today and keep thinking about it. "What looks good to you, dad?"
"Can't go wrong with steak and potatoes," he replied immediately.
I snorted. "Easy to please, huh?"
"You know me," he said, with an easy-going smile. "I'm a simple man with simple pleasures."
Are you really? I wondered. The more time we spend together, the more complicated you get.
"Chief Swan!"
Someone was walking up behind Charlie. He wore a black coat over a neatly pressed black suit. His dark hair was slicked back tightly against his head. Overall, he gave the impression of being recently ironed.
I saw Charlie's smile slip a little, but it was back in place by the time he started turning around. It was different, though. I recognized it as fake-jovial.
"Agent Downey," he greeted the new arrival. "I didn't expect you boys to be in town so soon."
"Can't let the grass grow on a case like this, Chief," Agent Downey said, also jovially. I wondered if it was also fake. "A lawman dead, a gas station bombed… well. It's an interesting crime." He rubbed his hands together. "This must be your daughter?"
"Isabella, Agent Downey," Charlie introduced us.
I was surprised that he used my full name. He almost never does that. I smiled politely and gave the agent a little wave, hoping the swarm of bees in my stomach weren't immediately obvious to everyone watching. "Nice to meet you, Agent."
The agent smiled back at me. I didn't like the way it made him look. "I'd love to sit down and—"
Charlie rose smoothly from the table, forestalling whatever Agent Downey was going to say. "We're in the middle of a family dinner, Agent. I hope you understand. Let's circle back to this some other time."
No! I almost said out loud. Let's talk about it now! As nervous as the agent made me, I wanted to hear what he had to say. To find out what—if anything—he suspected, so I could give the Cullens a heads up. But I can't say that without making them wonder why I want to know. Isn't being too interested in a crime a sign of guilt? I tried to look bored.
Agent Downey was arguing genially. "Now, Chief, it would only take a couple of minutes and then I can check it off the list and move along." I couldn't remember the last time I'd heard someone from New England, and he wasn't doing the accent any favors. "Batiste said you'd be very helpful. He's got a high opinion of how you run things over here. Deserved, I'm sure."
Charlie was every bit as genial. "Agent, I've been working my ass off the last few weeks." It sounded almost like his bland northwestern accent was intensifying in response to Agent Downey's narrow vowels. "This is the first chance I've gotten to sit down with my daughter for some good family time. I hope you understand."
After a tense minute, the agent gave a little nod. "Of course, Chief. Sorry to interrupt your father-daughter time. We'll have to… circle back… on this sometime soon."
"Let me walk you out," Charlie offered, gesturing firmly toward the door.
"I couldn't put you out." Agent Downey smiled. Is it just my paranoia or does he look angry?
"Oh, I insist." Charlie was already taking a step forward, and the agent had to step back or be run over. He opted to step back and then Charlie was steering him out of the diner. "We pride ourselves on our hospitality," he was saying, "especially here at Cora's. Best diner in the northwest. You'll have to try—"
He was still talking as they walked through the door. I had to admire how smoothly he'd handled the whole thing, even if I was frustrated by not getting to hear more. I didn't realize how good at policing he is. I guess he'd have to be, to be the chief of police already.
I realized they had stopped outside, just barely within the range of my hearing. Charlie had a hand on the agent's shoulder and a smile on his face, like they were saying a friendly goodbye. Even his tone was friendly. "—leave her out of this, Chris. Chris, right? She's seventeen and she's just been through hell. This is the first time she's gotten out of the house since then, you know? I'd hate to have to raise a stink about it."
"She's old enough to speak for herself, Charlie. I don't want to pull rank here, but—"
"But nothing," Charlie interrupted, and his tone was less friendly this time. "She's my little girl. You come through me or not at all."
I felt a little stab of anger at being described as a little girl. I am not little! I am old enough to speak for myself!
Agent Downey drew himself up. It didn't work, because Charlie still had a couple of inches on him. "Just trying to do my job. You'd do the same if you were in my shoes."
"And I hope to god you'd do the same if you were in my shoes," Charlie said, sounding perfectly amiable again. "For what it's worth, I think you're barking up the wrong tree here."
"I guess we'll find out." Agent Downey did not seem inclined to listen to what my dad was telling him. "I'll be seeing you, Chief."
"Same to you, Agent."
Charlie didn't step back into the diner until the agent was out of sight. On his way back to the table, he crossed paths with Cora. She brought up one hand to shield her mouth from me as she leaned in, but I could still hear her quiet words.
"Keep an eye on that one, Charlie. I don't like the looks of him."
"You and me both," he murmured back. "Both eyes, if I can spare 'em."
Charlie left the car running and made no move to get out after pulling into the driveway. "Isabella," he said after a minute of silence, "you know what to say if someone from law enforcement ever asks to talk to you. Right?"
We'd had this conversation before. "'Am I free to go?' If I'm not, then I say 'I am exercising my right to remain silent. I am exercising my right to request a lawyer, and I am requesting a lawyer.' And either way, I call you first."
He nodded just once. "Good girl. Don't ever forget it."
"Does Agent Downey want to talk to me?" I asked tentatively.
"Nope. Just felt like a good time to brush up."
He's lying to my face, I realized. I felt my hackles raising. Why is he treating me like a kid? I wanted to demand that he tell the truth, but instead I took a deep breath. "Okay," I said, trying to sound like I meant it. "Will you be working with him a lot?"
His reply was slower this time. "Hope not. I've got enough on my plate."
I hesitated. "I don't like him very much," I finally confessed in a small voice. It was as close as I could get to the truth, which was: I'm scared, dad.
"Me neither." Charlie's lips were tight. "If he does try to talk to you, you come straight to me. You hear me?"
"I hear you," I said, already knowing that I would not. I'm tired of being protected. I need to know what's going on.