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It Began With a Lie: A gripping psychological thriller (Secrets of Redemption Book 1)

Page 26

by Michele PW (Pariza Wacek)


  I jerked away, causing Daniel to let go of me. Daphne’s voice echoed in my head. Have they been talking? “No. I’m sure it’s nothing,” I said. “There’s just a lot going on right now. Stefan’s here now, which is an adjustment. Chrissy, well, she’s sixteen and you know what that’s like. I’m looking for a job, and well …” I forced my mouth to close. Becca, you’re babbling, I said to myself. “It’s just a lot,” I said again, feeling stupid.

  He was watching me closely. “Yeah, I get that. What sort of job are you looking for?”

  “Well, the last job I had was at a law office. Not sure I want to get back into it again though.” Why did I say that? God, I needed to stop babbling.

  “Why not?”

  I shrugged. “It’s been awhile. Not sure if anyone would be interested in hiring me anyhow.”

  “Have you talked to Bill?”

  “Bill …?”

  “Bill Drover.”

  I shook my head. “No. What does he do?”

  There was a pause. I looked up. Daniel was studying me, his face still, an unreadable expression in his eyes. “He’s an attorney in Milwaukee,” he said neutrally.

  Milwaukee? Why would Daniel tell me to go see an attorney in Milwaukee? Did he know something about the attorneys here in Redemption, like the one who had introduced Stefan to Pete? “That’s a little further than I want to drive every day. Is he looking for an assistant?”

  “Maybe,” Daniel said. He looked like he was going to say more, but decided against it. “He’s well-connected. He might know someone willing to give you a shot.”

  I nodded. “Oh. Thanks for the tip. I’ll reach out.” I tried to smile and feel grateful, but inside I felt sick at the mere thought. I really didn’t want to work in the legal field again.

  “Are the ghosts keeping you up?”

  Ghosts? My whole body jerked. Oh God, he was talking to Daphne. “Why would you ask?”

  Daniel reached a hand out but didn’t touch me. “Relax. I’m joking.”

  “Oh,” I tried to smile again. Of course, he was joking. What normal person wouldn’t be, when asking about ghosts?

  “But, since we’re on the subject, have you seen anything … suspicious?’

  “Suspicious? What do you mean?”

  He gave me a sideways smile. “Well, I know that night at the bar, you were talking about some ghostly activities. I was just wondering if you had seen anything else?”

  Get ahold of yourself Becca, I scolded myself. You’re jumping at shadows. “Well, it’s an old house,” I said carefully.

  “Does that mean you have?”

  “What are you asking? Are you wanting to come interrogate Mad Martha?”

  His smile widened into a grin. “You got me.” Even though his mouth was smiling, his eyes were serious. “Think Mad Martha would cooperate?”

  “It would certainly make all our lives easier if she did,” I said. “Wouldn’t it be great to finally get some answers?”

  “That’s for sure.” He paused, studying me. “What would be your first question?”

  I laughed. “I have so many questions, I’m not even sure where I’d begin.”

  “Try. What’s just one?”

  There was something about the way Daniel was looking at me, along with the barely-concealed eagerness in his voice, that had raised my suspicions. “Are you interrogating me now, Officer?” I asked.

  He raised his hands. “Occupational hazard.”

  I tried to smile. Jumping at shadows, I told myself again.

  He lowered his hands and stepped closer to me. “All kidding aside. I guess I am a little … concerned about you. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  The compassion in his voice made my eyes fill with tears, and I quickly turned away so he wouldn’t see. Suddenly, I wanted more than anything to tell him everything. Maybe he could help. He knew my aunt, he knew the house, the town. I was so exhausted trying to carry all the burden alone. It would be such a relief to let someone else step in and help.

  But then, I thought of Stefan, and how upset he would be with me if he found out. I already felt like I was walking on eggshells with him, trying to keep my lies straight and pretending to be job hunting. And Chrissy. Would she get the help she needed? No. And that meant I needed to do everything alone. I had to figure out a way to get that locket back. Once I did that, then maybe I could think about leaving the house for good.

  “I’ll be okay,” I said.

  Daniel took a step closer to me. He lifted his hand and gently pushed a strand of hair away from my face. “I want to help you, but I can’t if you won’t be honest with me,” he said quietly.

  My stomach dropped. Was I that easy to read? “What makes you think I’m not being honest?” I asked, trying to brazen it out.

  He moved closer, put his mouth near my ear. His breath was warm against my neck. “I … don’t trust your husband,” he said.

  I blinked, pulling back my head to look at him. He didn’t trust Stefan? “What do you mean?”

  He looked a little embarrassed as he shrugged. “Something doesn’t add up with him,” he said. “And … well, I also feel like you’re holding something back from me. I want to help you, Becca.”

  I shook my head. There was nothing wrong with my marriage that finding that locket wouldn’t fix. Well, finding that locket and a good night’s sleep. Then I could stop lying to him and start looking for a job. Then I could get the house fixed up to sell, and all would be well.

  “Stefan isn’t the problem,” I said.

  Daniel leaped on it. “Then what is?”

  I looked up at him, wishing I could stuff my words back into my mouth. His face was closer than I expected, his dark-blue eyes watching me intently. I could smell him—clean soap mixed with his distinct scent. I thought about telling him that Chrissy might be possessed by Nellie, and, maybe, that I was being possessed by Mad Martha. I could imagine the disbelief clouding his eyes—how he would slowly back away. Maybe he would even decide to take me in for more “questioning.”

  So much for “helping” me.

  Maybe once I had the locket, I would feel differently. Maybe then I could tell him everything. But, for now, I needed to go it alone.

  “It’s … I’m not feeling well. I haven’t been sleeping,” I said.

  His face fell. He looked so disappointed, I found myself saying in a rush, “Let me get some sleep and feel better. Once I do, we can talk, okay?”

  He still looked disappointed. “I’m going to hold you to that, Becca,” he said.

  I nodded and turned to go—if nothing else, my cart was filled with things that really needed to be in a fridge—but he called me back. He looked pensive. “Just … be careful, Becca.”

  Beware. It’s here.

  I shivered, even though the sun was warm against my shirt. He gave me a meaningful look, as if imploring me to come clean.

  I deliberately turned my back to him and headed to my car. I could feel his eyes against me as I walked through the parking lot, but I refused to turn around.

  Chapter 33

  Stefan and Chrissy were in the kitchen making dinner when I got home.

  “Perfect timing,” Stefan said, taking the grocery bags from my limp fingers as I stood there in shock. “Relax. We’ll take care of everything.”

  Relax? How could I possibly relax with Chrissy cooking dinner? I looked at the clock. How had it gotten so late?

  She was busy chopping tomatoes, her back to me. As I watched, she turned her head and smiled at me—a secret, taunting smile. Her eyes gleamed with triumph.

  There was no way I was leaving her alone in the kitchen while she prepared my food.

  Stefan shoved a glass of wine into my hand. “Go lay down, Rebecca. Relax. We’ve got this.”

  “Actually, I don’t mind,” I said. “Why don�
�t I finish up? You two have done enough.”

  “Nonsense,” Stefan said. “You’ve been cooking since I’ve been here. It’s our turn to treat you.”

  I didn’t move. I couldn’t tear my eyes from Chrissy chopping the tomatoes. She had painted her fingernails a bright red. The red from the tomatoes dripped down her fingers, soaked the cutting board.

  Like blood.

  Chrissy saw me watching her and her smile grew even broader. Her lips were red too, more red than normal. Did she have lipstick on? While I watched, her tongue darted out and she licked her lips, like a cat. I could see a hint of sharp, white teeth. She looked at me like a predator eying its prey.

  I thought about the knife in my purse. Would I be able to grab it in time?

  Stefan nudged me. “Rebecca, go sit down. Drink your wine.”

  “Stefan, why don’t I finish up with Chrissy? I’m sure you have work to do.”

  Stefan sighed loudly, taking my arm and escorting me into the family room. “Don’t be silly. We’re good. Drink your wine and relax.” He put his hands on my shoulders and not-so-gently pushed me onto the couch. My wine sloshed in my glass. “There. Sit there and enjoy yourself. Dinner will be ready soon.” He walked back into the kitchen, humming to himself.

  Now what should I do? I got up, feeling too anxious to sit, and started prowling around the family room. I had no intention of eating anything I hadn’t made myself, but I didn’t know how I would get through dinner. At least I still had my purse with me.

  As I passed the window, I saw a movement in the shadows. It was the cat.

  It leaped onto one of the garden chairs, and settled itself down in the seat, its green eyes focused directly on me.

  Could the cat actually see me? It seemed like it.

  Actually, a lot seemed different about the cat.

  Its eyes narrowed as it stared. I felt like it was trying to send me a message. Like it was trying to warn me. But of what?

  Could it sense the ghosts? Did it know the house was haunted?

  Did it know something I didn’t?

  Cats were known to have been companions of witches, even familiars. Was this cat a familiar? Was it more than a cat?

  I stared into its green eyes, trying to will it to share its secret knowledge with me.

  Stefan called out that dinner was ready. So soon? I looked at the clock. It’d been over thirty minutes since I had gotten home. Again, I wondered where the time had gone.

  I looked back outside, but the cat had disappeared.

  Stefan poked his head into the family room. “Did you fall asleep? I said dinner was ready.” The dark circles under his eyes looked more pronounced than usual—maybe because he hadn’t shaved. Under normal circumstances, I would have found that scruffy look sexy, but in that moment, it just made him look exhausted.

  “Yeah, I’m coming.” I took one last look out the window, but all I saw were the overgrown weeds rustling in the breeze.

  “You didn’t drink your wine,” Stefan said, his tone faintly accusatory, as I sat down at the table.

  “I, ah …” How could I tell him I wasn’t drinking it because I needed to stay awake? And I needed to stay awake because I didn’t want the ghost of Mad Martha to possess me? I picked up my wine and took a small sip. He nodded as he reached for his own glass.

  “You haven’t been yourself,” he remarked, as he and Chrissy helped themselves to beef tacos, chips, beans, and a salad.

  “I haven’t been feeling well,” I said, carefully watching their actions. All the food couldn’t be tainted, I reasoned. Maybe I could figure out what was safe and just eat that.

  Stefan passed me the tacos. “What’s wrong?”

  I shrugged. “You know. Headaches. Not sleeping well.” I tried to nonchalantly turn the platter, so I could help myself from the same area Stefan had.

  “Maybe have more wine,” Stefan nodded to my glass. “That might help you relax. Fall asleep tonight.”

  “Maybe,” I agreed, moving my food around on the plate. I wanted to make sure both Chrissy and Stefan took a few bites before I ate anything.

  Stefan leaned over and moved my wine glass closer to me. The red liquid gleamed in the light of the setting sun, and I instantly saw the image of Chrissy standing in the kitchen, hands dripping with tomato juice. With blood.

  I shook my head to try and clear it, and picked up the glass to drink. A little wine shouldn’t hurt. And I could always make a pot of coffee after dinner, which would help combat any sleepiness. Plus, if I didn’t drink, Stefan was likely to hound me all night.

  “You should eat too,” Chrissy said. “I know how much you like tacos.” She sat back in her chair, smiling that secret smile, but her eyes were flat, like polished stones. It didn’t look like she had touched her food.

  I moved the food around my plate. “I’m sure it’s really good, but I’m not all that hungry. I had a late lunch.”

  “At least have a few bites,” Chrissy urged. I could see the tips of her sharp white teeth against her bright red lips. I scooped a small bite of beans into my mouth. It would be more difficult to taint the beans, since they were served family style.

  Stefan asked me about the job hunt. I did my best to frame my answer to make it sound like I was doing more than I was, while being vague enough to not contradict myself.

  I was so tired of the lies.

  I could tell he wasn’t impressed with my progress, but he didn’t say much—just pressed his lips together and started asking Chrissy about her plans that weekend. I took another drink of wine and continued to play with my food.

  Something wasn’t right. My head was feeling fuzzy. Could it be from the wine? Especially on an empty stomach? Maybe what I needed was a glass of water. I pushed my chair back to stand up, and the next thing I knew, I was on the floor.

  “Rebecca,” Stefan said, jumping out of his chair to help me. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  “I’m dizzy,” I said, but my mouth felt like it was full of cotton. Oh God, maybe the beans had been poisoned? Had Stefan eaten any? I couldn’t remember. “Something is wrong,” I tried to tell Stefan as he helped me up.

  “Nothing is wrong, Rebecca, you just need some sleep.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and started half-dragging me, half-carrying me out of the kitchen. “Chrissy, can you help?”

  Chrissy ran to my other side as I struggled to get free, but my arms and legs weren’t working right. “No, Stefan, I need a doctor. I need to go to the hospital,” I tried to say. I didn’t want Chrissy to touch me, and I tried to twist my body away from her.

  “Rebecca, stop fighting,” Stefan said firmly. He was dragging me up the staircase. I could see blackness on the edges of my vision. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to cause all of us to fall down the stairs.”

  My limbs felt like they were underwater. I was so dizzy. Black lines scribbled themselves across my vision. There was a roaring sound in my ears.

  Stefan and Chrissy managed to get me into my room and unceremoniously dumped me on the bed. The room spun around. “Stefan,” I begged, trying one last time. “Please call the hospital. There’s something wrong with the beans …”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the beans,” Stefan scoffed. “You need to sleep. I know you haven’t been sleeping, so I put something in your wine to help you. Stop fighting it, and just relax.”

  Stefan did this to me? I opened my mouth to protest, but the darkness swirled over and drowned me. My last thought was that Daniel had been right all along.

  Chapter 34

  “You’re back.” Aunt Charlie said as she scurried around the kitchen, presumably making tea. “Thank goodness.”

  I blinked as I stood at the doorway of the darkened kitchen. I had a strong feeling there was something wrong, that I shouldn’t be there, but I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it
was.

  “Come. Sit. Have some tea. No time to waste.”

  I shook my head. “No tea.” Definitely no tea. I was sure about that.

  She paused, dropping her head and sighing. “You always were so stubborn. Well, at least you’re honest about it. Not like the other ones.”

  “What other ones?”

  She pursed her lips and flapped her hands, gesturing the non-importance. “It would be better for you if you drank your tea. Especially now.”

  There was that tickle at the back of my head again. Something is wrong.

  “Why especially now?”

  “Drink the tea. Everything will make more sense if you drink the tea.”

  I found myself moving to sit at the table despite myself. “Why are you so insistent on me drinking this tea?”

  She busied herself with the tea and the cups, not looking at me. “It’s difficult to explain.”

  “Try me.”

  She paused, clicked her tongue. “It reveals things,” she finally said.

  “Reveals things? Like what? My memory?”

  She carried the mugs to the table, sitting across from me as she pushed my tea to me. It was in the same purple and white mug I had used all day for my coffee.

  She picked up her tea. “Maybe. It reveals what it wants to reveal.”

  “Well, that’s nice and vague,” I grumbled.

  She laughed. “This isn’t an exact science, Becca.” Then, she leaned forward, getting more serious. A dim light from the window streaked across her face, hollowing out her features and turning her skin a pale grey, making her look like a long-dead corpse. Her eyes glittered at me—black, bottomless pools set deep in the folds and crevices of her face. “Time IS ticking, Becca. Even as we speak, things are shifting, and eventually the decision will be out of your hands.”

  There it was again. Something is wrong. I stared at the dark liquid in the mug, smelling the spicy, sweet scent as it drifted up to me. My mouth watered. I wanted to drink it. I needed to drink it.

  I looked back up at Aunt Charlie. She held her mug near her mouth, watching me carefully. She had chosen one of the sunflower mugs for herself, and the cheery yellow looked out of place against her grey and washed-out skin. As I watched, her lips parted, revealing a gleam of pointed teeth.

 

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