A/N: Some Ricky and Gina ahead. Thanks for continuing to read. I own nothing but my mistakes. Thanks for my new readers who have found me and this story. If you have made it to Chapter Twelve: I admire you. You are dedicated to reading this long work to the very end which will probably be in the Spring.

Twelve

One shot of our sweet triple espresso, and you'll
be able to wrap all the chocolates that Lucy couldn't
in that I Love Lucy chocolate factory episode.

—SIGN AT THE LIMA BEAN

Cedes pulled into the high school parking much later than she'd planned. Most of the kids had already gone home. Those that hadn't were standing around, waiting for their rides or bus, shivering. A fresh helping of snow had been promised, but it was getting colder. Almost too cold to snow.

She put the SUV in park, then looked across the smattering of students looking for her daughter. Having no luck, she texted her offspring. "I'm waiting for you in the parking lot. I got back earlier than I thought I would, so I'm here instead of GeeGee. Did she pick you up, anyway? After I texted her that I'd be here? Because I wouldn't put it past her."

When she didn't get a response, she started to worry. Not bad. Just a faint uneasiness in the back of her mind.

She grabbed her phone to text again when a knock sounded on her window.

She lowered it to a pretty black girl with vibrant hair that was obviously dyed. "Are you Gina's mom?"

She immediately began to worry and almost descended into a near panic attack from those words alone. "Yes, I am" she said, making sure her anxiety did not show on her face.

"It's so cool to finally meet you."

Cedes was taken aback at the girl's response to her but she kept her cool.

"I'm Gina's friend Kourtney. We had our last class together. While we were there, some girls in the class were picking on her."

Cedes' mother bear mode was activated. "Picking on her?"

"Yes ma'am. Basically being bullies. You know the type."

"Unfortunately, I do."

"As soon as the bell rang dismissing school for today, Gina took off running down that street." Kourtney pointed past the school and toward the center of the town, which was in the opposite direction of their new home.

Then, it hit her. Gina had had a worse day than she'd expected despite all those texts that said contrary.

"Thank you, Kourtney for all of your help."

The girl beamed at her. "No, ma'am. Thank you."

Having no idea why the girl was thanking her, Cedes headed toward the center of town, looking for her daughter.

She pulled into the parking lot and up to the memorial that sat in front of city hall. Gina sat on the side of a memorial fountain. A fountain dedicated to Spencer Eliott Porter, Gina's father for all intents and purposes, as well as other soldiers the town had lost in military combat, some going all the way back to the first World War.

But the memorial itself was mostly a memoriam of Spencer.

Cedes sat beside her daughter, who'd cleared off a spot for her on the fountain when she saw her walking up.

"Hey, Mommy," she said as though she didn't have a care in the world.

"Hey, ladybug. I was worried your grandmother forgot and picked you up, but then this extremely happy black girl—"

"Kourtney."

"Yes, Kourtney told me you had run in this direction."

"Yeah, I just wanted to get out. I needed some fresh air."

"Thirty degrees is well and above fresh one might say it's frigid."

"Probably."

"How bad was it today?"

"What do you mean?"

"The bullying that had you had to endure as a supposed snitch."

Gina's mask slipped from her face. "It really wasn't that bad. I'll probably never live it down if I am honest, and I'll need a lot of therapy throughout high school, but all in all, it was not that horrible."

Cedes nodded, wondering how she of all people had raised such a lousy liar.

"So, how's your dad doing?" She turned and looked at the gorgeous memorial the town had put up after Cedes' husband was killed in Afghanistan barely one month after they got married.

The artist had carved an image into the sandstone pillar, three circles interlocked. Underneath was a bunch of information about Spencer being a son of Lima Springs even though he hadn't been from the town, and then a list of all the sons Lima Springs had lost. Legitimate sons. Sons who deserved the monument much more than her husband had.

Cedes had barely looked at it during the dedication. Hadn't even noticed the image when it was first erected, and never took the time to actually look at it.

But Gina had come here often. Cedes' parents had told her that Gina would come there several times each summer and talk to her dad. It both warmed her heart and weighed it down.

"He's doing surprisingly well. He says to tell you hello, darling."

She laughed softly. "Well, tell him howdy back. So, are you truly okay with everything that happened at school today?"

Gina nodded. "Yes, I really am."

"The whole snitch informer thing just blew over without any more hazing?"

"I guess. Nobody said anything about it."

"You know, you could tell me if they did."

"Oh no, my brand new boots are ruined," she said, changing the subject. She picked up one foot. It had mud on it from her walk.

"Say it's not so." Cedes inspected the boot and then said, "I don't think those tiny spots of mud constitutes ruination, but we can have them cleaned."

"No, it's okay. I'll see what I can do."

Cedes drew in a deep breath. It was back. The wall Gina constructed whenever she worried she was becoming a burden. Most kids loved being burdens. Reveled in it. Counted on it to get their way on multiple occasions. But not her daughter.

"Well, if you're done freezing out you, we can leave so you can go to GeeGee and Big Poppa's?"

"Can I order pizza?" she asked after using her inhaler.

"As long as it has something nutritious on it."

"Everything on a pizza is nutritious."

Cedes hugged and kissed her daughter on the top of her braids. The two walked with their arms locked as they headed to SUV.

She dropped Gina off and gave her mother the look. It was a look that she used with her mother to let her know that Gina was in a bad space but didn't want anyone to know or talk about it. They'd been through a lot with her when she was younger. They'd perfected that look and the many devious ways in which to send it with Gina never realizing it.

Minnie's lids rounded, but Cedes followed up the look with the shake of her head to let her mother know there was nothing she could do for now. They had to wait to Gina was ready to talk about it.

Minnie didn't agree her eyes were filled with concern, but she would comply trusting that her daughter knew what was best for her granddaughter.

After a quick trip to her new home to change into something more comfortable, basically still her uniform but a Lima Springs County Sheriff's sweatshirt and jeans with her badge attached to the belt, she put on her official bomber jacket and headed out. She grabbed a sub sandwich from Subway and headed back to work.

McCarthy had procured the surveillance footage from the store for the date of the receipt Cedes had found under the tree. She was impressed. These situations could get sticky. It was amazing how much an average citizen did not want to assist in an investigation, especially if it consisted of them getting off their stools behind the cash register and hunting through surveillance footage.

Sometimes it took a little extra assertiveness to convince them to do their civic duty. Threats also worked. But McCarthy was about as threatening as a bunny rabbit.

With the swing shift in full force, Cedes sat down at her desk and reviewed the footage. An older male, judging by his physique. He was wearing a coat, hat, and shades. And he bought an energy drink. He paid and walked out.

Unfortunately, the cameras outside were not working, so they didn't get a description of the vehicle he drove.

She checked the records they sent over for every gas purchase in case the guy filled up and wrote down the names for Dani to cross-check with the parameters set.

"Veggie sub," Jay said.

"Want some?" Cedes asked, inviting her into the office with a wave.

"Nah. Just getting ready to go home. What were you looking at?"

"Surveillance footage."

"Oh, you are having so much fun." She stepped closer. "Do you want me to run those names?"

"Nope. I need you well rested for tomorrow, too."

"I don't mind staying late for this case."

Cedes grinned at her. "I know." Jay started to leave, when Cedes stopped her. "Are you sorry you took this job yet?"

"Please." She waved a dismissive hand. "I love this weird little town. And I'm thinking about asking Gunther out."

"The flasher? I heard he's a great kisser."

"I'm sure he is."

"So," Cedes said, wanting to know if Jay and Hunter were in deed a thing, "you and Hunter."

"Hell naw. We're siblings. Twins, even. I am not into incest. How can you . . . ? Why would you . . . ? He is cute, though." Her dark skin practically glowed with appreciation.

"He is, and he's good people, but if you tell him I said that, I'll seek revenge. I'm not above threatening you with a serrated spoon."

"What a way to go, a sniper did in with a spoon. Well, I am off to get my beauty rest."

"Wait," Cedes said, leaning closer to the computer screen.

"For how long?"

The problem with surveillance cameras was they usually had horrible resolution. This footage was no exception, so it took a minute to figure out what she was seeing. "Look at this."

Jay leaned down. "What are we looking at?"

"Okay, this is the guy who bought the energy drink."

She raised her brows in surprise. "Wow. He's way older than I'd thought he'd be."

"Right? It would have taken someone younger to pull off the abduction. How could someone like him get a fourteen-year-old through a window without making a sound?"

"He had to have drugged her, but even with that in mind—"

"Exactly," Cedes said. "It would have taken a lot of strength to get her out of that window and to carry her to a waiting vehicle, which had to be out of range of the Caswells' cameras."

"True, and look." Jay pointed. "He's limping."

"He could be faking it, but I don't think so. Look what he does next."

In the corner of the screen, almost out of camera range, the man tossed the receipt into the trash can.

Jay stood back. "No way. Our one and only lead was planted by the perp?"

"The no good ninja." Cedes wanted to say much worse, but held back. "Anyone could have accessed that trash can. We need the footage of it for the rest of the day, until the can was dumped."

"Even then, they could have gotten it out of the big dumpster in the back."

"Hell to no," she said, going for the gold. "Abrams!"

Artie Abrams appeared at her door instantly.

"Get over to that store ASAP. I want the records of every single purchase made in that store for the last two days, starting after this one." She handed him a copy of the receipt. "And I want all of the footage."

"You got it, Sheriff."

He left, and Jay sat in the seat across from her. "Are you okay?"

"We're being played by someone who knows exactly what he or she is doing. I just can't figure out what's a legit clue and what isn't."

"The letter?"

She nodded. "It's Ashlyn's handwriting. I checked it against the diary she kept in her room."

"Do you think this is all a trick of some kind?"

Cedes sat back and raked her fingers through her hair, dislodging the individual plaits from her braid. "I wish I knew, but we certainly can't let that doubt harm our investigation."

Jay stood to walk out.

"Right, sorry," Cedes said, having kept her. "Thanks, and I'll see you in the morning."

After a soft laugh, Jay shrugged into her jacket and said, "Oh, I'm not leaving you to work by yourself. Well, I am, but I'm going to be right back. I am going to the Lima Bean. Place your order now, or I'm coming back with an Iced White Mocha with Caramel and Salted Cold Foam."

"Oh, please no." When Jay grinned at her in question, she said, "Real milk. And make it hot not iced and please no salted cold foam."

"I got you, Sheriff."

Under the excuse of changing clothes, Gina went to the apartment and, well, changed clothes. But she also snuck onto her mother's computer and logged on to the sheriff's database. A place she definitely should not be logged on to.

She ran checks on everyone she knew for certain was in Ashlyn's life, including her parents. Well, at this point, pretty much only her parents. Besides a couple of traffic tickets—Mrs. Caswell was not the best driver—nothing in the couple's past would indicate any type of abusive behavior going on in their household.

That didn't let either off the hook completely, but it went a long way in helping Gina feel better about Ashlyn's parents possible involvement in her disappearance.

Before she logged off her mother's computer, she decided to do one more check. She'd promised Principal Rashad she wouldn't try to hack their system again, but she had no intention of trying. She had every intention of succeeding this time.

"Gina?" Her grandmother opened the front door.

Gina shot out of her mother's room carrying a sweater. "I found it! Mom is always stealing my stuff," she said, pulling it over her head as she walked. "Now if I could just find my other boots."

Minnie exchanged a knowing look with Gina and giggled. "Your mother did the same thing with my clothes, young lady. The supreme pizza is here when you're hungry."

"Thanks, so much GeeGee for letting me know!" she said, dropping to her hands and knees and pretending to search underneath her bed.

"Don't take long. The pizza will get cold."

"Okay." Her grandmother didn't know that pizza tasted better that way.

The older and much shorter woman left Gina to her guilt-ridden thoughts—she hated lying, especially to her grandmother—and hurried back to her mother's computer.

"Hallelujah," she whispered when she made it in successfully. Her success had nothing to do with the fact that, while she was trying to steal Ashlyn's records, she'd accidentally found the password. Of course not.

Biting her bottom lip, she typed in the name she'd been burning to know more about: Ricky Lopez-Bowen. His school records popped up instantly, and his picture . . . a picture that was nothing short of beautiful. He was the most handsome boy she had ever seen face to face before and it wasn't fair that he was also photogenic.

If they'd had a printer hooked up, she would've printed a copy of his picture to hang in her room. Because that wasn't creepy. Or underhanded. Or frowned upon in most states.

Ricky's grades were pretty much what she'd expected. Bs and Cs for the most part in his math and science classes with a few As in his electives and humanities classes sprinkled in for good measure. He was more than smart enough to get straight As. At the same time, he didn't seem particularly interested in impressing anyone, so why not squeak by?

But she wasn't looking for his grades. That was none of her business, she told herself after she'd devoured his entire record. She only wanted his address.

She'd tried texting him several times since she'd gotten home, but he'd never answered, and they had a report to do. Or so she told herself to justify her desperate behavior.

She wrote his address down, cleared the search history on her mother's laptop, and logged off. There was one more component to all this snooping. If her mother just happened to see what times she'd logged on and realized she hadn't logged on at that particular time, what were the odds of her mother being curious enough to wonder about that?

Thirty minutes and almost five pieces of pizza later, Gina looked at her grandparents as they watched the news. They were really, really into the news. She couldn't finish the last bite and said, "So, I have a history project."

They both gave her their undivided attention. They were kind of awesome that way.

"And I have to interview another student and do a report."

"Really? Who?"

"Oh, I don't think you know him. His name is Ricky. Ricky Lopez-Bowen."

The couple cast sideways glances at each other as though in cahoots over something. "We know his dad, Mike," her grandmother said. "He's such a great guy."

"He's a mechanic," Big Poppa said, like that explained everything. "Mike could rebuild an engine in a earthquake."

"He certainly sounds talented. So, I was wondering if I could take the car to his house to work on our project."

They stared at her a minute, then burst out laughing. "And just when did you get your license?"

"You used to let Mom drive when she was almost fifteen."

"Sweetheart," GeeGee said, not patronizingly at all, "there is a difference between us letting her take the car and her taking it. Your mother didn't actually have permission the one time she decided to wreak havoc on society before she actually had a license to do so."

A wave of shock vibrated through Gina. "My mother broke the law?"

Big Poppa chuckled. "She stole that sucker right out from under our noses."

"Our knocked out noses, we were sleeping," GeeGee amended.

Gina clasped her hands together over her heart. "This is the best thing I've ever heard all day."

They laughed out loud. "Now, don't you go getting us in trouble with your mother," they said, almost simultaneously.

"Never."

Her grandfather lifted a brow. "That being said, if you need to go to his house, I can drive you over. You are not driving any vehicle until you have a license and that's after driver's ed."

Her grandparents were the best. She jumped up, ready to go. "Thanks, Big Poppa! I'll go get my things and meet you outside!"

She heard her grandmother say, "I think she's in a hurry, honey."

"I meant to tell you," Gina admitted, growing anxious, "I'm not actually sure he's home. I can't get a hold of him on the phone. We have the rest of the week to do this project, but I wanted to get a jump on it."

Ricky didn't exactly give her any sign that he wanted to hang out with her when they'd parted ways after sixth period. He'd looked at her oddly. Then again, he looked at her oddly all the time. She could never tell what he was thinking.

"No worries, baby girl. It's not like it's a long drive from our house."

He was right because hey found the Lopez-Bowen residence in about four minutes, a white house with burgundy trim.

She gathered up the courage that she needed to do something so brazenly as she got out of the crossover.

Her grandfather got out as well. "I'll just make sure it's okay, then you can call me when you're ready to come home. I'll be here in a hurry, you don't have to worry."

"Thanks, Big Poppa."

He looked up at the dark sky. "That storm is going to hit soon, so you might need to hurry."

"I will. I'm sorry to do this to you."

Her favorite grandfather in the world stopped and turned to face her. "Your grandmother and I are beyond happy that you two moved back here. I will drive you wherever I can whenever I can. You just say the word. I am now the official Gina Porter chauffeur. I am yours to command." He did a bow that made Gina giggle.

"Can you drive me to my next mani-pedi?"

"When do we leave for it?"

She laughed again and wrapped her arms around his chest. He drew her into a deep hug, then they walked to the porch arm in arm and rang the bell. A light blinked off and on inside the house, and Gina couldn't understand why.

A wooden door opened, and Ricky stood on the other side. He didn't seem at all surprised to see her. Or happy about her presence either.

"Hey," she said.

He nodded a greeting, then looked at her grandfather.

"Oh, this is my grandfather, Malcolm Jones."

Ricky opened the door wider and took his hand. "We've met before. This summer to be exact and earlier when my dad works on his vehicles sometimes."

"He sure does. Mike could rebuild an—"

"—engine in an earthquake," Gina finished for him.

Ricky chuckled softly. "Yes, he can. Want to come in?"

"Oh no," Big Poppa said, "I'll just leave Gina here while you work, if that's okay?" He glanced at her. "You can call when you're ready for your mani-pedi?"

Gina suddenly realized they didn't actually make plans. She didn't actually get permission to come over and intrude upon Ricky's life. "If you're busy, we can—"

"I'm not busy," he rushed to say. "We have to do it. Doesn't matter if we do it today or later as long as it gets done."

At first, Gina was on cloud nine with his willingness to spend time with her, but when he finished speaking, she wondered if he wanted to get the project finished quickly, so he wouldn't have to see her after school anymore. "Okay, that sounds good." She turned back to her grandpa. "I'll call you when we finish."

"My dad could take her home when we finish, if you don't want to get out in this weather again. It's up to you, Mr. Jones."

"Only, if it's not a bother to your father."

"I'll call either way," Gina said.

Her grandfather gave her another quick hug and headed to his crossover while Ricky ushered her inside his home.

The house was cozy and warm with a lit fireplace and throws on the sofa and loveseat.

"This is nice," she said.

He offered her a playful smirk. "No, it's not. But it's a home for two males."

A man walked in then, carrying a plate of food and a drink. He was tall like Ricky and almost as gorgeous.

"Hello," she said softly, holding out her hand even though his were filled with his meal. "I'm Gina."

He put his drink down, took her hand and smiled, then turned to Ricky.

Ricky signed what she said, finger-spelling her name. She recognized that much. And humiliation washed over her. Ricky was fluent in ASL, and the lamp flickered when they rang the doorbell. It didn't take a genius to figure out someone in his family was probably deaf.

When she realized she felt a surge of embarrassment travel through her body making her glow with the heat of her discomfiture.

"Hi," Ricky said, interpreting for his dad. "I'm Mike. You're new to Lima Springs, right?"

She nodded her head. "Yes. We just moved back here."

"Your mom is the new sheriff. I was so glad she won the election," Mike said as Ricky interpreted, making the most charming face. "I voted for her."

Gina smiled at him. "Thanks."

"We have a school project to work on. Is that okay?"

The man narrowed his eyes on his son, then agreed. He signed something really fast, and Ricky said, "Okay, fine as long as it's schoolwork."

They walked past him and went inside Ricky's room.

"What did your dad say?"

Ricky was busy picking up clothes and tossing them into a hamper. He moved a pile of books so she could sit at his desk. "He told me I'm still grounded until the moon burn out."

"Oh. Wow. That is awful. Why are you grounded?"

"Nothing actually. It wasn't even really a fight. It was an almost fight. It's all good."

"How can you have an almost fight? Who'd you almost fight today?" Then she remembered the kid in the hall who pushed her into him. "Oh I remember it was that kid from this morning. You weren't suspended for that were you."

"No, that guy told the principal we weren't fighting."

"But did you two fight?"

He shrugged and sat down on his bed. He'd been watching TV in his room with the captions on.

"Do you always watch television shows with the captions on?"

He did a shoulder shrug. "I've gotten used to it. Dad thinks the captions helped me learn to read at such an early age."

"Really? How old were you when you first started reading?"

"Is that part of the assignment?" He seemed almost as uncomfortable as she was.

Embarrassed, she took out her notebook. "It could be. I's a great hook. Especially with how incredible your poetry is."

"Are you a writer or something?"

"I want to be. Or a detective like my mom. Or a brain surgeon."

He didn't smile when she said it.

"I'm just kidding. The last thing I want to do is touch people's brains."

"So, no zombie life for you."

She giggled as the tension in the room eased. "I'm sorry I didn't call first. I mean, I tried to. It was not my intention to just show up at your door."

"Yeah, I am still grounded, so no phone."

"Oh." She shook her head. "I thought—"

"That I was ghosting you?"

"Something like that." Of course, one had to be dating or in some kind of relationship prior to being ghosted to actually be ghosted, but she didn't tell him that.

He got up and walked out of the room, only to come back with a bottle of baby oil. She didn't know what in the P Diddy he thought was about to happen between them, but he was in for a huge disappointment.

She gaped at him. "Um, I don't know what you think is going to happen here, but—"

"You have tomato sauce on your face."

Once again, her cheeks heated to the red-hot level of ghost peppers.

He took a Kleenex and poured a drop of baby oil on it, then leaned in, his face barely inches from hers, and wiped at the corners of her mouth.

She closed her eyes, both humiliated and intrigued, and in her shock she let him. While his touch on her face was gentle, soothing, it was his other touch, his left hand on her knee, that sent tendrils of electricity lacing through her body.

He pulled the tissue back and showed her the red streaks. "I got it all."

"I don't know why my grandfather didn't say anything. But thanks. One question, why did you use baby oil?"

He shrugged. "Pizza sauce is very acidic and using water would have irritated you skin. And your lips are already chapped enough. You didn't need more water drying them out."

Embarrassed yet again, she covered her mouth with a hand, but he didn't notice. He got a clean tissue, poured another couple of drops, then lifted it to her face again. When she didn't lower her hand, he tugged it off her face and ran the tissue over her lips, the act feather soft.

His eyes studied her as he did it, and a warmth she hadn't expected flooded every cell in her body. Then she noticed a scar on his arm.

She took his hand to maneuver his arm for a better look.

He pulled it back, and said softly, "Don't."

She leaned away from him. "I'm sorry." She stood and grabbed her backpack. "I should go probably go."

He stood, too, and put a hand on her arm. "Please, don't leave yet."

"Look, if you're mad at me, for touching your arm, just say so."

"Mad? Why would I be mad after I touched you?"

She really had no answer. "Just be . . . cause."

He stared at her for a long moment thinking she would continue. "Wow, that's an amazing reason."

"I thought so, too."

"Look," he said, sitting on the bed again, "I don't always have the best social skills. I use more nonverbal cues than verbal ones because I was raised in the deaf world. Their cultural norms are a little different from the hearing world's."

She sat down at his desk again. "That is the coolest thing anyone has ever told me."

"What?", he asked, "That the deaf world's cultural norms are a little different?"

"No, that you were raised in the deaf world. That's just amazing to me."

He cast her a look of disbelief.

"Of course, that's easy for me to say that being an outsider looking in. I am sure it must be challenging."

"In some ways, it is very challenging."

"Is your mom deaf, too?"

He stood and grabbed his backpack off the floor beside her. "No. She could hear."

"Could?"

"Yeah, she died a long time ago."

"I'm so sorry, Ricky. I didn't know that."

"And I'm sorry about your dad."

"Thanks," she said, genuinely appreciating his compassion.

Ricky opened his Chromebook and pulled up the assignment while taking things out of his backpack.

Her eyes zeroed in on the notebook he read his poetry earlier today at school. "So, do you have any other poems in there?"

Without even looking at her, he took the notebook and put it on a shelf behind him. "Not going to answer."

"Can I read some of your poems?"

He stopped unpacking his things. "I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Why? Your poems are really good."

"I'm fake. Just like everyone else at Lima Springs High."

She held out her hand. "Can I be the judge of that?"

"Not today. Maybe one day if I lose my mind."

Disappointment washed over her, but she understood. It took courage to open yourself up to criticism. "Deal. Okay, have you ever stolen candy from a store?"

"No," he said. "It was grapes and anything else I could eat while walking around, and it was at the grocery store."

She laughed, and they started working on their assignment.