by Erin Lanter
A few minutes later, the dishes were pushed to the middle of the table as Tessa and Drew fell into comfortable conversation. For the next half hour, they talked about family and friends, the horrors of working nine-to-five, and the temptation to run off and live in a cottage on a deserted island.
Soon, Tessa’s sides hurt. Drew always had a knack for impressions and had provided countless hours of entertainment during their lean years. Tonight, he was imitating his assistant, Dorothy, a woman in her mid-fifties who had the habit of replaying conversations out loud. And there was no whispering with Dorothy. Her normal voice rivaled a foghorn.
Tessa wiped a tear from her eye and took a deep breath. “It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed that hard.”
Drew nodded slightly and took a sip of water. “Me too.”
As suddenly as it had started, the carefree laughter was over. “Why are you here, Drew? After a year, there has to be a reason. Other than an overwhelming urge to bring enchiladas to your ex-wife.”
Drew shrugged, almost imperceptibly, and looked toward the kitchen. “I’ve been thinking about you. I miss you, Tess.”
Tessa looked down at her hands and asked the question she figured everyone in their situation would ask, “Where did we go wrong?”
“You didn’t trust me. You didn’t trust anybody. I always seemed to be hitting a wall with you. I knew you loved me the best you could, but you wouldn’t let me love you back. It was almost like you were waiting for me to hurt you.” Drew picked up his fork and swirled it around in the mole sauce left on his plate. “Fourteen years is a long time to live with that.”
With that, Drew stood, gathered the plates, and took them to the kitchen. After placing them in the dishwasher, he walked back to the table and kissed the top of Tessa’s head. “I love you, Tess. Always have.” Then he was gone, the front door clicking shut behind him.
He was right. She’d been waiting for him to hurt her. Her marriage was just another casualty of her deep-seated mistrust.
“Thanks for screwing me up beyond repair, Mama,” Tessa said as she stood and snapped off the kitchen light.
5
Mad at herself and mad at Drew, Tessa slipped on her sneakers and headed out the door. She needed air.
Her appointment with Dr. Raymond had thrown her off balance. It took every ounce of control she had not to think about the things she’d told him about her mother. Irrational as it may have been, Tessa felt that she’d somehow betrayed her mother by talking about her to a complete stranger. If that wasn’t bad enough, that stranger was a psychologist. If she were still alive, Tessa knew her mama would hate her.
She replayed the appointment in her head as she walked through her neighborhood, her concentration broken only by the occasional laughter of children playing in their front lawns.
Was she ever that carefree?
Word by word, she remembered everything she’d said to Dr. Raymond. Her mother’s inability to trust; her own inability to trust. Was it Mama’s fault? She felt a pang of guilt for even entertaining the thought, but where else would a child learn that people were dangerous and waiting for an opportunity to hurt you?
Exhaling sharply Tessa forced the guilt away. After a mental shake, Tessa looked around, realizing she was on a street lined with massive homes.
Definitely not my neighborhood, Tessa thought.
Everything looked perfect. Luxury cars were parked in front of custom designed houses. Her tiny, rented bungalow paled in comparison. Even the landscaping in this neighborhood looked like it cost more than her annual salary.
At some point, she must have dreamed of having this kind of life. Didn’t most people? Sadness settled in the pit of her stomach. That dream, like many others, was long dead.
The first big raindrop landed on her shoulder. Turning to go home, she took one last glance at a life she’d never have. The big house, nice car, perfect family with 2.3 children – it wasn’t for her.
Half of these people have probably done time for insider trading, anyway, she reasoned.
The sky darkened quickly, looking as though daylight had almost completely given way to night. The rain fell harder now, each drop leaving a dark splotch on her purple tank top.
Just before she turned toward home, movement in the front window of the house at the end of the street caught her eye. The house, mostly hidden by an old oak tree, looked eerie, haunted. She suddenly felt uneasy.
Unsafe, a little voice in her head warned, but her feet wouldn’t move.
A man had something slung over his shoulder and was struggling under its weight. Slipping behind a shrub, Tessa peered around the side. She squinted through the rain, straining to make out a form. Through the raindrops, her brain registered what she was seeing. Tessa shook her head and blinked.
It couldn’t be.
The bundle was wrapped in heavy plastic sheeting. A moment later, a hand slipped from a hole in the side. Tessa leaned forward, squinting.
An invisible hand closed around her throat. She gasped for breath.
The plastic was pulled tightly against a face. Dark hair was tangled around the face of a young woman. The dark eyes were wide and staring.
Adrenaline surged through Tessa’s body. She covered her mouth in a dual effort to stop herself from screaming and throwing up.
Kneeling in the soggy grass, stomach still churning, Tessa was pelted by an ever-increasing downpour.
As the man turned to leave the room, a bolt of lightning lit up the sky. His beady eyes narrowed as his gaze fixed on her. He held it for one terrifying moment before he backed quickly out of the room.
The lights in the house went out, leaving Tessa to wonder if her mind was playing tricks on her the way Mama’s did, and if it wasn’t, what had she just gotten herself into?
6
The golden sky darkened behind him as Drew pulled into the driveway of the house he’d once shared with Tessa. Filing for divorce had been the most difficult decision he’d ever made. He had hoped it would be a wake-up call for her, a sign that she needed to stop shutting him out. Instead, she’d built an even bigger wall between them.
“I knew I couldn’t trust you, and you’ve just proved me right,” she’d said.
A year later, the words still stung. He’d known from the time they met she was carrying heavy baggage. Like an idiot, he always thought if he loved her enough, it would make everything better. Instead, he’d given all he had for fourteen years and when it was over, all she had to say was that she’d been right not to trust him.
Drew unclipped his seat belt and got out of the car, slamming the door a little too hard as he turned toward the mid-size house. A blast of cool air greeted him as he stepped into the house just as it began to rain. He wiped his feet on the rug inside the front door.
Traces of Tessa still lingered everywhere. When she moved out, she left most of the things she’d used to decorate. On the mantel over the fireplace was a painting they’d bought on their honeymoon. The artist had beautifully captured the crystal blue water of the Caribbean and the orange sun setting over a grove of palm trees. They loved the Caribbean and would sometimes dream about selling everything to pull up stakes and move there.
Now that day would never come.
She hadn’t wanted to take the painting, and he couldn’t look at it without the familiar ache twisting in his gut. But he couldn’t bring himself to take it down, either.
The day she moved her stuff out, she hadn’t shed a tear. Not Tessa. The walls she’d built around herself were waterproof. Even though she’d known it would be a struggle to make ends meet on her salary and had basically no support system, she’d walked out of the house with her chin held high.
I, on the other hand, Drew thought, have felt guilty every day since then. Yes, I hurt her, but I also realized too late that I had the resources to handle sudden singleness better than she did.
After seeing Tessa tonight, the guilt was even heavier. It wasn’t just the shabby house. As a stoc
kbroker, he’d always been the money-maker. He knew she wouldn’t be able to afford the life she was accustomed to on only her income.
But tonight, it was something else. Some of her spark was gone.
“What did I do to her?” he mumbled as he walked to the fridge to grab a beer.
As he popped the lid off the bottle, his cell phone rang. He took a quick gulp, then set the bottle down and crossed the kitchen to pick up his phone.
“Hello?” His voice was gruff.
“Drew, baby, what’s the matter?” the female voice on the other end purred.
“Oh, hi, Camille,” he said, almost choking on the words. “Nothing.”
“Now, don’t give me that,” she said sweetly. “I know you well enough by now to know when you’re upset.”
He winced and rubbed his temple with his free hand. After almost a year of watching him mope about Tessa, his friend Pete had set him up with a girl he promised would be a lot of fun and who wouldn’t try to keep him at arm’s length.
That had been an understatement. Camille was a partier and probably the clingiest girl he’d ever met. Too clingy.
Drew frowned.
“Hello-o?” Camille sang. “You still there?”
The corner of Drew’s mouth twitched. “Sorry, I’m still here.” I am sorry I’m here, Drew thought, then added, “It’s just been a rough day.”
“I’m so sorry, darling. Want me to come over?”
“No,” Drew answered too quickly. “I’m just going to watch some TV and go to bed. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be much fun.”
“Okay, then. I’ll call you in the morning to see how you’re feeling, alright?”
“Sure. Goodnight.” He disconnected the call and retrieved the bottle he’d left on the counter.
She’s probably the worst rebound girlfriend ever, he thought, then immediately felt guilty. Pete had been right. Camille was a lot of fun, and it really had been a nice change to be in a relationship with someone who wasn’t always on the defensive. He never had to wonder where he stood with Camille. She thought he hung the moon.
He slammed the bottle back on the counter. But I didn’t hang the moon. I walked out on my wife and left her less trusting than when I found her. And even though it has been a relief to be with someone so open and caring, she’s not what I want, he admitted to himself.
He wanted someone who wasn’t going to be dependent on him, someone who wouldn’t be completely devastated if he wasn’t around, and someone who could pull herself up by her bootstraps and get on with her life.
He wanted Tessa.
But she would never give him another chance.
Drew chugged the last of the beer and tossed the bottle into the recycling bin. The corner of his mouth drooped. Tessa had always been on him to recycle his bottles. Until she came along, he’d never even thought about it. When they were still together, somehow he’d missed that her reminders had been her own way of showing him she cared.
Shaking his head, he walked upstairs, changed his clothes, and looked at the clock.
Seven-thirty. He climbed into bed and clicked on the TV. It was too early to sleep. And tonight, he thought, I probably won’t be able to sleep anyway.
7
A tendril of fear slithered around Tessa’s spine, squeezing her chest. Her breath came out in short, labored bursts. Blood pounded in her ears.
She couldn’t stop shaking; her only thought was that she had been seen.
Was that monster going to come for her?
I have to get out of here, she thought frantically, eyes darting around.
Rising on unsteady legs, Tessa moved quickly toward the nearest house and pounded on the front door. “Please!” The cry escaped her throat in a constricted whisper. “Somebody!”
The windows of the house behind the oak tree had been dark for several minutes, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be back, that he wouldn’t come after her.
The rain was still coming down in steady sheets. Desperately wanting to shield herself from the pounding drops and her own vulnerability, she climbed between the hedges and the cold stone exterior of the expansive home. She crouched down, pulling her legs close and wrapping her arms around them, trying to make herself invisible. Burying her face between her knees, she clamped her eyes shut against the image that kept replaying in her mind.
As the rain tapered off into a light drizzle, she unfolded herself and raised her head just enough to scan the street.
The light came on in the house behind the tree. The front door opened.
Run! her brain screamed.
She darted from behind the hedges and ran through the shadows until she reached her own front door. Slipping inside, she flipped the lock and deadbolt into place, and leaned against the door, her breath shallow and ragged.
Questions pounded in her head. Was she safe? Had the man followed her? Had she really seen what she thought she saw?
It wouldn’t be the first time her mind had played tricks on her.
She picked her cell phone up off the kitchen counter and scrolled through her contacts, selecting a number she knew by heart.
As the phone rang, she glanced at the clock. It was only eight-thirty. How was it possible she’d only been gone an hour and a half?
“Hello?” Drew sounded cautious.
Tessa bit her quivering lip. “Can you come over?” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded strained.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just – ”
“Tessa. Tell me what’s wrong,” Drew demanded.
“I just – ”
“I’ll be right over.” The line went dead.
A knock at the door pulled her from her daze. She realized she hadn’t moved since she called Drew.
Walking quickly toward the door, she suddenly slowed her pace. Was it really Drew, or had the man followed her, planning to make sure she could never tell anyone what she saw? It was almost as if her mother’s voice was whispering to her.
Taking a deep breath, Tessa closed the distance between herself and the door. A glance through the peephole showed Drew standing on the other side, shifting anxiously from one leg to the other. Just as he raised his hand to knock again, Tessa unlocked the door and jerked it open.
Drew’s eyes widened. “What happened?”
She turned and led him into her small living room. As she passed the mirror in the short hallway, her own reflection startled her. Her light brown hair hung in strings and lay plastered against her face and neck. Her blue eyes looked like ice against her pale face.
She drew in a shuddering breath.
Drew noticed and came within a few inches of her. He grasped her arms and moved his hands up and down her shoulders, trying to warm her. “I want you to put on some dry clothes,” he ordered. “I’m going to make a pot of coffee, then you’re going to tell me what happened.”
Tessa nodded and silently obeyed.
When she emerged from the bedroom, dry but still chilled to the bone, Drew handed her a cup of coffee and motioned for her to sit on the sofa. He covered her lap with a blanket and settled in next to her.
She took a sip, then eyed the coffee suspiciously.
“It’s decaf,” he offered.
“I hate decaf,” she protested weakly, then took another sip. Why was decaf in her pantry, anyway?
“The last thing you need right now is caffeine. You already look like you’re about to jump out of your skin.”
They sat in silence for several minutes as Tessa allowed the hot liquid to warm her.
“Tell me what happened,” Drew urged softly as Tessa lowered the mug to her lap.
“I know this is a terrible inconvenience for you. I just didn’t know who else to call…”
“Tessa, you look like you’ve just been put through the wringer. Tell me what’s going on,” Drew demanded.
She raised the mug to her lips and took another sip of coffee. “I was taking a walk. I must not have been paying attention to where I was going
, because I ended up in The Estates.”
Drew waited for her to continue.
“I had a pretty rough day and needed to clear my head. It started raining…” She paused for another sip.
“That explains why you were completely drenched, but not why you’re so spooked.”
Taking a deep, shaky breath, she continued, “I was getting ready to turn around and start home when the first raindrops started. But then I saw something that stopped me.”
She looked into her mug, now almost empty, trying to shake the image. She brought the cup to her lips and drained the rest of the coffee. Desperately wanting a refill, she hoped Drew would take the hint.
He didn’t. Instead, he pressed, “What did you see?”
After another shuddering breath, Tessa forced the words out. “I saw a man in the window of a house. The house gave me the creeps for some reason. It didn’t look like it belonged in The Estates. Anyway, the man was carrying something. It was wrapped in plastic sheeting and he was having a hard time with it. It looked heavy.”
“Go on,” Drew urged, never taking his eyes from Tessa’s face.
“Part of the plastic slipped open, and I saw a hand. A hand slipped through the opening.” Tessa was surprised how calm she sounded.
I must be in shock, she thought.
“A hand?”
Tessa ran her fingers through her still damp hair. Of course Drew would have a hard time believing her. Who wouldn’t? The south was all horse farms, bourbon, and manners, not murders in quiet, upscale neighborhoods. “Yes, a hand,” she insisted. “While he struggled with it, the plastic pulled tight and I saw a face.” Her calm was beginning to scare her. Only a sociopath wouldn’t feel anything about what she’d just seen.
Drew cocked an eyebrow. “You think he was carrying a body wrapped in plastic through his house?”
“Yes, I do.”
Tessa listened to the nighttime sounds of her house. Traffic in the distance, a ticking clock, the ice maker in the freezer kicking on. It seemed so… normal.
