“Can I help you with anything, ma’am?” a teenage employee wearing a white apron asked, yanking her from her memories.
She smiled tightly. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”
Listening to the classical music playing from the speakers overhead, she rolled her cart to the meat section and picked out two porterhouse steaks for tonight’s dinner. Then she chose potato salad, coleslaw, and in the bakery, freshly baked sourdough bread.
Buying this much food was ridiculous. Daniel was going to be too upset to eat any of it, anyway. But she had to keep moving in order not to break down, so she just kept grabbing food and placing it into the shopping cart.
CHAPTER 43
RACHEL
RACHEL WALKED INTO Healing Hands Pediatrics, her right hand buried in her jacket pocket. Clutching her handgun, she asked for Dr. Winters.
“He’s out of the office right now. Can I help you?” the woman at the desk said, her voice sounding far away. In fact, everything had sounded strangely distant since Suzie had passed.
Rachel blinked, trying to grasp the woman’s words.
Dr. Winters wasn’t in?
That had been the last thing she’d expected.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” the woman asked.
“Is that other doctor here? The big one?” she asked.
The woman regarded her for a moment, then said, “Dr. Reynolds is in a meeting off-site at the moment. Perhaps someone else can help you?”
Rachel turned and faced the lobby, where a sea of parents and children were waiting. A mother bounced a little girl with blonde hair who looked a little like Suzie on her knee. A father in a dark-colored business suit was talking on his cell phone, absently watching his son tap on the glass of the practice’s aquarium.
Blood pounded in Rachel’s ears as she stepped toward them. “They killed my daughter,” she said.
The mother stopped bouncing her daughter on her knee.
Rachel took a deep breath. She said it again even louder. “They killed my little girl. They said Respira was safe, but they lied. It killed her. She stopped breathing in her sleep.”
“Ma’am?” the receptionist said behind her. “You can’t—”
“They kept telling me it was safe. But my baby is dead now. Because I believed them. I don’t want that to happen to you.”
“Ma’am, sorry, but you need to leave,” the woman behind her was saying.
But Rachel continued talking. Continued telling these parents what had happened to her little girl. Someone needed to tell them the truth. “Don’t trust them,” she said.
The father in the business suit was off his phone now, standing by the aquarium, his hands pressed to his little boy’s shoulders. He was watching her carefully.
“Ma’am, we called 911,” the woman behind her said.
Someone gently clutched Rachel’s arm just above the elbow and tried to guide her toward the clinic’s double doors. She yanked away. “Let go of me!” she screamed. She turned back to the parents and said, “I’m not crazy. I’m not. I’m telling you the truth.”
A man in a white lab coat and green tie was now standing in front of her. “Ma’am, please come with me.”
“Are you a doctor?” she asked, her hand gripping the gun more tightly.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Dr. Thornton. Let’s take you to the back, where we can talk.”
The doctor had a kind face. Maybe he’d listen. Maybe he’d care. She nodded and let him lead her into the hallway. He guided her to room six and motioned for her to step in. She did so, then turned to him and watched him hold up a finger.
“Wait right here. Let me go grab you a glass of water, okay? Then we’ll talk.”
He walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.
She heard whispering in the hallway. She grabbed Fluff Fluff from her pocket and started to cry. She had been waiting by herself for what seemed like an eternity, smelling the stuffed animal and clutching it between her hands, when she heard police sirens in the distance.
She went to the door and tried the doorknob, but it wouldn’t turn. Was someone on the other side holding the knob? She tried again to open the door. And again, the knob wouldn’t turn.
The doctor . . . he’d lied to her. He’d never come back.
He hadn’t wanted to talk to her, had he? He’d lied, like the other doctors.
Her whole body trembling, she took the gun from her pocket and flipped the safety.
CHAPTER 44
MIA
WHEN MIA RETURNED home from the grocery store, she tiptoed up the stairs and opened the bedroom door a crack. Daniel was still snoring. She went back downstairs to put the food away and marinate the steaks.
When she finished and he still hadn’t woken, she lay on the couch and waited. After hours went by and he still wasn’t awake, she decided to take a walk on the beach. Although it was freezing outside, she walked barefoot in the sand, letting the cool grains sink between her toes.
She let her thoughts loop back to Monte. She’d wanted to leave the moment he’d first hit her, but he’d threatened her. Told her that if she ever tried to leave him, he’d come after her. That he’d kill her. And she’d believed him. She’d endured beatings, belittling, and malicious pranks for six years before mustering the courage to try to leave. The day she finally decided to do it, he’d been at a casino with his buddies. She’d thrown some of her belongings in a large suitcase, then grabbed some of his meth in hopes of selling it for enough money to get her far away. She drove to the apartment of one of his longtime buyers with hopes of selling the meth to him at a fraction of the price Monte would have charged.
But as soon as the man answered the door, she realized he was high and that she’d made a big mistake. Before she could turn away, though, he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her inside. While she screamed and fought, he pulled her to the living room and yanked her jeans down. Panic ripped through her because she knew she was about to be raped or maybe even worse.
There’d been a knife on the coffee table, its blade glistening beneath the warm glow of a lamp. Next to it were two small mounds of white powder, a credit card, and a half-eaten cheeseburger. As the man slid her panties down, she grabbed the knife and slashed the air with it, hoping to hurt him badly enough that he’d let go so she could run. She wanted only to get him off her so she could escape. But when the blade made contact, it severed an artery in his neck, and blood had spurted everywhere. In her face, on the couch, between his fingers.
She’d called 911 immediately, but the damage had already been done. She stood motionless, screaming inside, as she watched his skin grow pale and bleed out right before her eyes. He was dead when the paramedics arrived, and with no witnesses and no physical evidence of a rape, getting off on self-defense hadn’t been a sure thing. Her mother hadn’t had the money or desire to hire a lawyer, so she’d been given a public defender who had advised her to take a plea bargain, and she did—and she’d spent the next ten long years behind bars in an Arizona state prison.
While in prison, she’d dreamed up the perfect person. One she’d fallen in love with and wanted so badly to one day become. When she got out, she’d used the money she’d earned in prison to assume a new identity. It was important to her to hide from Monte as well as from what she’d done. She’d quickly changed her name from Amy Bishop to Mia O’Brien, then took a bus to California and found a job at Jiminy’s. She spent the next few years working quietly, rebuilding her life, a simple one that hadn’t felt dangerous.
When the loneliness got too bad, she’d let herself date a little, but nothing serious. Her contact with men had been just for the physical intimacy. From time to time, she’d needed someone to take away the crippling loneliness at night. After Monte, she’d sworn to herself that she’d never let a man into her heart. And she hadn’t . . . for years. But then she’d met Daniel. After their first night together, her gut had told her he might be different. When he kept asking her out, she’d decided to give i
t a chance, but she knew it was critical to keep her past from him. Daniel was a decent man. A respectable professional. If he’d known whom she’d been, what she’d done, he never would have been able to see past it. Never would have been able to let himself love her. Besides, Amy Bishop was gone. She’d become Mia O’Brien, who was so much more together and mature and much worthier of love than Amy could have ever been.
The first several months, she’d felt as though for the first time in her life, she was getting things right. She knew she’d lucked out to finally find a good man, and she’d wanted nothing more than to be a good partner for Daniel. But the day Daniel returned to work after their honeymoon, she’d received a call from Christian. And that had changed everything. Now, for a woman who had vowed to never give her heart to a man, she was sharing it with two.
And it was tearing everything apart.
She returned to the house and was heading to the stairwell to check on Daniel again when she heard movement upstairs.
He was finally awake.
And she was finally going to tell him everything.
She ran a finger beneath her eyes, clearing away smeared eyeliner, and finished her dinner preparations. She set the table, lit the candles, threw the steaks on the grill, and poured wine. When she was done, she went back to the living room. As she waited, Christian’s handsome face flashed in her mind. His bright blue eyes, the musky, masculine scent of whatever cologne it was that he wore, and she felt her heart fill up.
The timing was so horribly bad, but wrong or right, she couldn’t say that she regretted him. If Daniel left her, at least she’d still have him. Yes, she’d be devastated at losing Daniel, but if she still had Christian, maybe she could learn to be okay again.
She turned toward the staircase, straightened her spine, and waited for Daniel to walk down.
CHAPTER 45
DANIEL
THE SUN WAS in its death throes when Daniel finally woke up. He’d slept the whole day. He sat up, still wrapped in the damp bath towel from earlier, and now it stuck uncomfortably to his sweat-drenched body.
He could hear music playing downstairs—“Margaritaville” by Jimmy Buffett. A song he and Mia had listened to a lot while in the Caymans. The scent of steak grilling wafted through the air vents.
Noticing he was awake, Bruce stood up, whined once, and licked his face. Feeling queasy and disoriented, Daniel climbed out of bed. He went to the toilet and hurled again. Then he returned to the bedroom, pulled some clothes out of his bureau, and carefully dressed. Grabbing his phone, he headed for the stairwell.
When he reached the stairs, he saw Mia standing in the middle of the living room, her arms folded across her body. She was smiling, but it was a sad smile. Her eyes were red, swollen. It was apparent she’d been crying.
His eyes flitted to the dining room, and he noticed the table was set.
“You haven’t eaten all day. You must be hungry,” she said, her voice breaking a little.
“No,” he answered and walked past her into the kitchen. He set his phone on the counter and grabbed a glass from the cupboard. He filled it with water and gulped it down.
“Can you sit with me?” she asked. “We need to talk.”
They sure as hell did.
He nodded and refilled his glass. Then he went to the table and sat down.
Mia followed a minute later, carrying a platter of steaks and a bowl of potato salad. She slid a steak on his plate, then one on hers.
“Potato salad?” she asked.
He shook his head.
He noticed her hands trembling when she placed the bowl in the center of the table. She sat and stared down at her plate for a long moment, silence filling the space between them.
She took a deep breath. “There’s something . . . well, a lot of things . . . a lot of important things I need to share with you.”
He nodded so she would know he was following.
She wrung her hands, then bit into her lower lip. “There are things about me. Things you don’t know.”
He knows more than you think.
His phone dinged in the kitchen. He’d set it down when he’d poured his glass of water and had forgotten it on the counter. It was probably just Gail. They’d planned to talk again today. Or maybe it was Teddy. Whomever it was, he would call them back. He nodded for Mia to go on.
“I’ve done some things that I’m not proud of,” she said. She took another deep breath and exhaled hard. “Things I never wanted you to know about because I knew that if you knew, you wouldn’t want me.”
He saw a vulnerability in her eyes that he had never seen before and enjoyed the fact that this was hard for her. He was so angry with her that he wanted her to hurt. Maybe needed her to hurt. Like he did.
Tears glistened in her eyes. “I lied when I said that my parents were dead, although they might as well be. I never met my father, and my mother was never much of a mother. When I was fifteen, I met an older man. His name was Monte. When I turned eighteen, we got married.”
He stared at the glass of wine she’d poured for him.
Don’t even think about it, Daniel. You’ve reached your ninth life. You realize that, don’t you? There will be no more chances.
He didn’t argue this time. The voice was right. He needed to be sober for this conversation. No, he needed to stay sober—period. Drinking was not working for him. He knew this logically, but dammit, the wine was flirting with him. Feeling agitated, he tapped his foot on the floor, wondering if maybe he could just wean off alcohol. Drink one glass tonight. Quit for good tomorrow.
You can’t. You’re an alcoholic.
No. This time I will.
What’s it going to take, Daniel? Think about it. Haven’t you lost enough?
Mia was talking in the background. “Monte was involved in some things. Cocaine. Meth . . .”
Daniel’s phone dinged! again.
It kept dinging.
Mia stopped talking and watched him.
Someone obviously wanted to get hold of him badly. He wanted to give Mia his undivided attention, but it was going to be impossible if his phone kept going off.
“Let me see what they want, and then I’ll turn my phone off,” he said.
She nodded.
He excused himself and went to the kitchen. He picked up his phone from the counter and looked at the screen. There were sixteen text messages and five missed calls. Most were calls from the office and Teddy’s cell phone. The most recent messages and calls were from Billy.
One had been left less than a minute ago.
Something went wrong. Answer your phone.
Went wrong? What did that mean? He read Billy’s previous texts, realizing he’d been trying hard to get hold of him. One of the texts confused him: Will call when it’s done.
He’d read that last text earlier, before falling back to sleep. He asked himself again what it meant. When what was done? A sense of dread fell over him. He hit Billy’s number, and his friend picked up on the first ring.
“Jesus, Dan, where have you been?” Billy asked, sounding out of breath. There was a tremor in his voice Daniel had never heard before.
“What are you talking about?” Daniel asked.
“I went to Christian’s. To do, you know, what you asked me to do.”
Daniel’s pulse sprinted. “What? What are you talking about?”
There was silence on the other end of the phone. “You don’t remember?”
“No.”
More silence. “To make him go away,” Billy whispered into the phone.
Fragments of their conversation started trickling back.
Yes. He had asked him to make Christian go away. He remembered now. But what was Billy talking—
“Daniel?” Mia asked softly. She was standing in the living room, her arms crossed. “Is everything okay?”
Daniel held his finger up, indicating he’d just be a minute.
She disappeared back in the dining room. Billy was still talk
ing, but his voice was muffled.
“I can’t hear you,” Daniel said.
“I said I brought a gun. I was just trying to scare the guy, but he came at me,” Billy said, his voice clearer now. “He moved so damn fast. I . . . shit, man . . . The gun went off before I even realized what I was—”
Daniel went cold all over. “What?”
Silence.
“Billy? What happened?” he asked, more loudly.
“He’s dead. The guy’s dead.”
Daniel’s heart stuttered.
Dead?
Oxygen fled his brain, and he clasped the back of his neck and tried to understand the meaning of Billy’s words.
“It was a total accident. Self-defense,” Billy said. “Look, I’m freaking the hell out. I’m heading out of town for a little while. I’ll call you in a bit.”
“No, Billy. Don’t! I need to know—”
The line went dead.
Bruce, sitting at his feet, looked up at him and panted.
Sweat trickled in his armpits. What did you do, Daniel?
His mind spinning, Daniel stumbled back to the dining room.
“Are you okay?” Mia asked, a frown creasing her brow. “You’re white as a ghost. Who was that?”
“Just work stuff,” he said, shivering on the inside. He sat down. “Go ahead. Finish what you were saying.” Anything to get her to stop staring at him like that.
Mia started talking again, but his heart was pounding so loudly in his ears, he could only hear snippets of what she was saying. He was in total disbelief.
Why the hell did I ask him to go and scare the guy? Jesus. If he’d been in his right mind, he never would have done it. But he hadn’t been in his right mind, had he?
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