Page 44 of Under Pressure

The Ferris wheel finished its route just in time, and Ian started letting people off. He opened the door to their carriage keeping Dom from continuing along this line of thought. Blue was grateful.

“How was it?” Ian asked.

Dom and Ian high-fived, and Ian ruffled Dom’s shaggy brown hair. “Awesome. As always.”

“He loves the view of the city,” Blue said as Ian gave her a half squeeze that she returned.

“It’s one of the prettiest skylines, if I do say so myself.” Ian was only a few years older than Blue—nineteen, twenty, something like that, and an orphan. He’d been on his own since he was Dom’s age and lived all over, so he knew what he was talking about. Blue couldn’t imagine that kind of freedom.

Ian treated Dom and Blue like siblings, and they loved it. Having an older brother. One that had nothing to do with the mafia. One who was so free. About a year ago, he’d started coming to Dom’s soccer games, and they’d had him over for dinner a time or two. The whole family loved him, and he loved them. He always said they were the family he never had.

“We’re getting pizza soon, when’s your break?” Blue asked.

Ian glanced at his watch. “Half hour.”

“We’ll get your pizza,” Blue said as she and Dom headed down the metal grate stairs.

Ian opened the rope to the line, letting a couple through, and called after them. “No peppers this time!”

A loud banging noise brought Blue out of her memory with a jolt that sent her head ducking, and her pulse racing. She glanced around and caught sight of an old truck driving up one of the side streets from the beach, black smoke billowing from the tailpipe. Blue put a hand to her heart and breathed deep.

It’d been a long time since she’d last thought of her brother, even longer since she’d thought of Ian, and with those thoughts came more guilt—because she just wasn’t suffering enough. She scrubbed her hands down her face, then glanced at her watch.

Was the library still open at this hour? Didn’t seem likely, but . . . she had to check. The number one rule she’d lived by since she and Dad had run, had been never to use personal devices to look up anything to do with their old life. Too risky. But if she popped into a different library now and again, she’d be okay. She’d never once looked Dom up here in Diamond Cove. Hadn’t even thought to since she moved here.

But now she needed to know.

* * *

The library was an old-fashioned building with large, stained-glass dome in the middle, dark wood shelves, leather couches and armchairs, tapestries, and huge curtains.

The librarian, an adorable gal with an edgy twist ponytail, wearing skinny jeans, studded boots with heels, and a Superman print t-shirt under a baggy sweater, was at her standing desk, going through a pile of books. Across from her, a white Labrador Retriever lay in front of an old-fashioned fireplace belly up and fast asleep.

Blue followed the signs and made her way upstairs to the second floor and way in the back left corner of the library to the computers. She passed under the bookshelves that archedover the footpaths and down red runner carpets until she came to the rows of mahogany desks, each with a vintage green glass desk lamp on it and a shiny Mac computer. Moonlight streamed through one of the stained-glass windows over the space, and it all had a very gothic-romance-novel feel to it—like Thornfield Hall in Jane Eyre or something.

She took a seat in the hard wooden chair and booted up her computer. At the browser, she took a deep breath of paper and leather-bound books, then typed in Dom’s name.

Only two things came up. His arrest and subsequent acquittal when he was eighteen, and a photo of him at their mother’s wedding to the Mattress King of Chicago seven years ago. This is why Blue’d stopped looking. She refined her search to include the term ‘obituary’ and hit enter. No results. No other leads.

“Dominic Rockefeller, son of notorious mobster, Ryker Rockefeller, acquitted on charges of murder.” A friendly voice read from behind her. Blue jumped and glanced over her shoulder. The librarian stood there with a big, old smile on her face. “There’s a mobster named Ryker Rockefeller? That’s hilarious. I wonder if Grace knows her husband shares a name with a mobster.” She laughed and extended her hand. “I’m Kate, the librarian.”

“I’m Bluebell. Nice to meet you.”

“We’re about to close up; you almost done?” Kate asked.

Blue nodded and switched off her computer. “Yes, sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you late.”

Kate shook her head. “Not at all! I was actually waiting for a friend.”

“Kate!” a female voice called out.

“Upstairs, headed down now!” Kate yelled in a way Blue had never thought anyone would in a library. The two walked down together. “You seem familiar, but I can’t quite place you.”

Blue ignored her momentary panic and remembered that Marshall Stroup had promised her and her dad that they could have real lives. Talk to people. Just as long as they stayed off socials, they could treat this town like it was their own. Because it was now. “I own Leather and Lace Boutique and Soda Shop at the pier.”

Kate’s eyes lit up. “I love that shop! Your passion fruit hibiscus ginger ale . . .” She kissed the tips of her fingers as they turned and headed down the stairs. “The best. And I love your clothes too.”

Blue chuckled. “Thanks.”

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