Page 71 of The One Before

It’s been days since my conversation with Bailey in the park. I’m waiting, unsure what the next step in all this will be. My phone rings. It’s the last person I expect: Roman.

“Is Cooper home yet?” He sounds aggravated.

“Not yet. Is everything okay?”

“Just tell him to call me. Fast.”

He clicks off. I’m still staring at the phone in my hand when Coop enters the front door. He’s smiling and appears happy. Too happy.

“Get dressed,” he says. “We’re meeting everyone at Nectar for dinner.”

“Everything okay?”

“We’re celebrating your new job,” he says, squeezing my arm.

I smile a broken smile, unsure by what he means. “I’m a little lost here, Coop. Tell me what’s going on.”

“There was a scuffle with one of the staff writers today. He’s been turning in assignments late and not following my suggestions. I just had enough of it and told him to pack up.” He holds my hands. “Which means there’s now a place for you.”

This isn’t Coop. He’s not the type to fire someone because they made a mistake. He’d give them chance after chance. He’s loyal to his staff, which is why he insisted it would be a while, possibly years, before I could guarantee a job at theGazette. He’s making unsound decisions. Trying to regain control of his situation. Control of me. I’ve come to realizethisis who Coop is. For most of his life, he’s been in a position of power. He’s been a Douglas. When things don’t go his way, he starts acting off. That’s why he lashed out at Laura, and I can sense he’s turning that erratic behavior on me. He’s trying to create reasons for me to stay. He’s abandoning his own sense of right and wrong to keep me here.

“Didn’t you think we should talk about this first?” I ask.

“What’s there to talk about? You’ve been missing your job. It won’t be like theChronicle, but at least you can get back to doing what you love. You’ll have a greater sense of purpose here now.”

His phone rings, and I’m quickly reminded that Roman had called earlier sounding agitated. Coop answers the call, stepping into the kitchen to put distance between us. As he speaks, his features morph from curiosity to worry to defeat. When he hangs up, he doesn’t say anything. He stands still, staring ahead into the living room.

“Something wrong?” I ask.

“That was Roman.” He takes a seat at the desk. His jovial demeanor from earlier has disappeared.

“He called me, too,” I say, taking a step forward. “What’s going on?”

“He said there are police boats at the lake. They’ve brought a dive team.” He looks at the time on his phone, then stuffs it in his pocket. “They’re looking for something.”

“Looking for what?”

“I don’t know.” His eyes connect to mine, searching for answers. “Do you think they’re looking for—”

“After eleven years?” I interrupt before he can finish the sentence. I take a step closer, soothe him by rubbing my hand against his arm. “I think you’re being paranoid.”

Coop refuses to look at me. Finally, he says, “You’re right. It’s probably nothing.”

He starts tapping into the laptop, and my insides feel all jumpy.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Trying to find more information before I visit the scene.”

“Are you crazy? You don’t need to go there. We’re supposed to meet your family at Nectar.”

“This is news,” he says, still staring at the computer. “I need to go for theGazette.”

I sit beside him, placing one hand on his lap while the other reaches over to gently close the laptop. “You’re the editor. Send someone else. We need to get ready for dinner.”

“Roman sounds nervous,” he says. “He can be rowdy and quick-tempered, but he’s rarely nervous. I don’t know what to make of that.”

“You said Roman doesn’t know about Laura—”

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