Page 47 of Love and Loathing

She folded her arms over her chest and sighed. Oh, how she’d wished she’d kept her mouth shut. At least then she’d have the element of surprise and could keep trying to grill him about his brother. Now, she had no leads. She was back to square one. And seeing as plotting her justice against the Whitley brothers was the only thing keeping her sane right now, it wasn’t a good feeling.

* * *

Jessie’s shift ended at seven, and she locked up the store. She grabbed a slice of garlicky-delicious cheese pizza from Wicked Dough, headed to her bike where she’d left it chained behind the bookstore, and had practically devoured the slice by the time she got there. Pulling her phone from her purse, she opened it and found three missed calls, one from her dad and two from Caroline, and a couple dozen text messages, most from her mom and some from her sisters.

What on earth was going on? She hit redial on Caroline’s number.

Caroline answered on the first ring. “Where are you?”

“Just finished my shift at the bookstore. What’s going on?” Jessie asked, and she got in unchained her bike.

“I’m sure it’s not a big deal, but you should probably come straight home,” Caroline said.

Jessie froze in her seat. “Caroline, tell me. Is someone hurt?”

“No, no. We’re all fine.” A wail sounded through the phone, a wail that sounded like her mother. “Just get home.”

Jessie broke speed limits and made it home in half her normal travel time. She parked in the driveway and ran inside.

Her mother sat on the sofa, sobbing, with Caroline next to her, rubbing her back. Diana and Maggie May sat on the adjacent couch, quietly watching the scene unfold.

“What’s happened?” Jessie asked.

Caroline nodded toward the dining room. Their dad sat at the table, a lined paper folded in his hand.

He stood, face grave, and handed it to her. “Here, you might as well read it. Everyone else has.”

Jessie took the letter.

“Read it out loud,” he said, and he leaned back against the couch.

“‘Dear Family, I’m going to the Maldives with Jacob Whitley. Don’t expect to hear from me for a while; we’re getting married as soon as we arrive, and I won’t have time to be in touch. - Cecilia.’” She blinked and looked up. “This is a joke?”

Her dad shook his head. “No. All her clothes are gone.”

Her mother wailed. “She didn’t even say goodbye?”

She shook her head, the gravity of the situation slowly kicking in. But this was Jacob. “No, no. It can’t be. Jacob would never be able to stand Cecilia for long. She’s too naive, too silly, too not enough of a challenge.”

“Oh, I think he’d put up with a lot,” her dad said, “for her twenty thousand dollars.”

Jessie started back. She remembered the night they’d had him over for dinner—Cecilia had said she’d had that money right in front of him, and he’d been excited about it. Her legs went weak, and she took a step back and sat in the chair her dad had been sitting in at the table. “I’m a fool.” She dropped her head to her hand.

“We don’t know that’s what he wants for sure,” Caroline said. “Maybe he really loves her.”

Jessie shook her head. “No, Caroline. He’s done this kind of thing before. I know for a fact he seduced an eighteen-year-old and left her the day after.”

In true Southern mama fashion, Sophie gasped and fell back against the couch. The drama of the move was somewhat dampened by the crinkling of the couch.

“Who told you that?” Dad asked.

“I … can’t say. But it’s the truth.” Jessie sighed and turned to Caroline again. “The only reason Jacob would marry Cecilia is so that he could have legal access to her money.”

Her dad looked exhausted, and though he stayed cool under pressure, she could see the cracks in his facade. “You came to the same conclusion I did.”

“Can’t anything be done? Can’t we call the police?” she asked.

“Cecilia may only have the mind of a preteen,” her dad said, “but she’s nineteen. By law, there’s nothing we can do.”

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