“I don’t,” Cliff murmured while nuzzling my neck. “Excitement, intrigue, and a hot woman to pursue. What more can a man ask for?”
Pulling away, I laughed. “You’re too much, Cliff. Too much.”
Winking, Cliff responded, “I hope you say those very same words when you see me naked.”
“Ditto,” I said, smiling as I exited the car. “One more question then I’ve got to get some sleep. Oh, who am I kidding? I’m so keyed up I’ll probably just stare at the ceiling all night. So, back to my question. Are you sure I should come stay with you? Don’t you think we’re being watched?”
“Of course we are, which means the Mayor and his partners in crime are already aware. When they realize you’ve got protection, they’ll back off. At least long enough for us to meet with Jared and Charles.”
I felt sick to my stomach. “You’re sure they won’t arrest me after I tell them…you know…about Dad and Cyndi?”
Cliff grimaced. “We already went over how to handle that, remember? Just stick with what I told you and you’ll be fine. Promise. You don’t think I’d steer you wrong, do you?”
“If you are, then when I die, I’m coming back to haunt you. Forever.”
Cliff’s laughter lingered long after he drove away. I walked back inside and locked the door and went to check on Eleanor. She was still out cold on the couch, so I slipped back to my room and took another hot shower.
Minutes later, covers pulled up to my chin, I stared at the ceiling, wondering just how I’d pull all this off without falling apart.
“Guess you’ll find out what you’re made of tomorrow, Renee.”
AFTER LEAVING ELEANOR’S, I pulled over at the gas station and read the instructions Cliff left for me about the lapel pin. It took me a few minutes, but I managed to turn it on and secure it to my shirt. The temperature hovered near the freezing mark outside and I was sweating like it was ninety-five.
“If you’re listening, I’m sure you can hear the sweat pour out of me,” I muttered.
Pulling back on the main road, I headed to Traci’s. Bypassing downtown, I took the back roads, fearing reporters had already descended. Like a crazy woman, I randomly chatted as though Cliff was sitting next to me. I wasn’t much of a talker unless I was nervous.
And wow, was I nervous. By the time I made it to Traci’s, my heart was pounding.
Traci was waiting on the front porch. After parking, I got out but she motioned for me to stop. “Please, you drive. My head’s killing me.”
“Oh, sure thing. Hangovers suck,” I replied while climbing back behind the wheel. “Did you drink some water? That’ll help.”
Traci slid into the seat and groaned. “Water, coffee, and about four aspirins. So far, nothing’s worked. Work will be a blast.”
I tried to miss the holes in the road for a smoother ride. My head didn’t feel so great, either, though my issue wasn’t from booze. I was exhausted. My prediction of staring at the ceiling all night came true. I didn’t get one lick of sleep.
Once on Highway 9, my hands started shaking again. In less than fifteen minutes, we’d be at work and my new role as a spy would begin. “Guess I owe you an apology.”
“What for?”
“Letting you drink too much.”
Traci waved her hand. “Please. I’m a big girl and it’s my own fault. Besides, I never listened to Edward when he would bitch at me to slow down, so I doubt I’da listened to you. Oh, and I’m the one who owes you an apology.”
“For what?”
“Having to drive home a drunk and for listening to me blabber on about my life. Dumping out shit I should’ve kept to myself. So, sorry.”
“Not necessary. I mean, what are friends for, right?”
Traci smiled and patted my hand. “I’m serious. You let me go on and on about my crazy world and I barely gave you a chance to talk about yours. So, since I’m no longer trashed, I’m listening.”
Knowing Cliff was listening, or if he wasn’t tuned in live he could play it back later—a sick feeling churned in my stomach. I had to be careful what I said because there was a lot about my past I hadn’t told him. I mean, he said he kept up with me while he was gone, but that didn’t guarantee he knew intimate details.
“Not much more to tell other than what I did already,” I answered.
“Renee, that’s horseshit. You’ve been through Hell! Your dad left, your mom died, you got pregnant in high school, lost the baby, and married a monster who beat the crap out of you for years. That’s just skimming the surface. How long have you hidden your real pain below dark waters? I remember how devastated you were when your dad left.”
The comment sent shivers up my spine. “Long enough to know I don’t really like rehashing it.”
“Is that why you didn’t testify during Billy’s trial?”
I almost ran off the road. Traci’s choice of words struck a nerve. “Excuse me?”
“Not wanting to dredge up painful memories. Is that why you didn’t attend his murder trial? I mean, he did kill his wife.”
Seething anger licked a fire in my gut. I took a few deep breaths before I said something I’d regret later. “I’m well aware of what Billy Runsford did. Not only to his wife, but me. To say I’m terrified of the man is the understatement of the century. It’s taken me years to actually speak his name without having a panic attack. So pardon me for being a coward.”
“Oh, honey, I didn’t mean it like that! Gosh, I’ve upset you and I was only trying to give you a friendly ear to vent to. Good thing I didn’t pick counselor as my career choice. I obviously suck at it.”
“Since you brought the subject up, I’ve got a question for you. You mentioned you kept up with all the fun and exciting news in Ridgeport while you were away, so if you were so concerned about being a friend, why didn’t you pick up the phone and call me?”
The color from Traci’s cheeks vanished. “I…uh…well, I wanted to but—”
“But you didn’t. You just buried your head in the sand like everyone else around this fucking town. I get that. You had your own life to live, a family to raise, who wants to hear someone else’s woes, right? Poor little white trash got what she deserved, right? Another small town whore who got knocked up before seventeen. Daddy abandoned her and was left to care for the drunken, former homecoming queen. What did Gretchen say last night? Ah, yes, that being friends with me would just drag a person down. Just like everyone else in my life, you abandoned me. Don’t worry though, I’m over it. Happened a long time ago.”
“Renee, please, I didn’t mean to hurt you—”
“Hey, you opened this can, remember?” I interrupted, the anger inside me controlling my words. “Yes, I’ve lived through some very trying times. Lost all those I loved and was trapped in a violent marriage until Billy grew tired of hitting me and found a new toy to smack around. Unfortunately, he broke his new toy permanently. But you know what? I dealt with all the crap after being forced to by doctors and counselors, remember? Oh, wait, I seem to recall that after my trip to the looney bin, you steered clear. Already had my brain probed and prodded by professionals who insisted I talk about my experiences, so I’m good.”
Heavy silence fell between the two of us for a few minutes. Tears filled my eyes so I pulled over on the shoulder before I wrecked and killed us both. “You’ll need to drive the rest of the way,” I mumbled.
Switching seats without a word spoken, Traci finally cleared her throat and reached out for me. “Renee, I’m so sorry. I was just a kid, too, and didn’t know how to handle all that was going on in your life. Yes, I steered clear, but not because I didn’t care about you. I just didn’t know what to say. I mean, you were so strong before. You got a job, helped your mom out, never cried or complained about your dad leaving, so when you flipped after losing the baby, I was at a loss as to how to deal. Saying sorry now seems pathetic and trite, I know, but I truly am. And I’m here, now.”
Swallowing hard, I pushed her hand away and m
otioned for her to drive. “We’re going to be late and I have nothing left to say, except I won’t need a ride home after work.”
Traci looked at me with a mixture of pity and sadness. It was the same look I’d seen my entire life from others and I hated it. Turning my face to stare out the window, I dabbed my eyes on my jacket.
We didn’t speak again the rest of the drive to work. The interaction reminded me why I didn’t have any close friends. People lied all the time. Professed their undying love and devotion until turning blue in the face, yet did a flip-flop when hard times came. I was better off on my own.
Traci pulled into the parking lot; the place was crammed with people.
And news vans.
And Mayor Cayhill’s car.
Joy.
I didn’t wait for Traci. Stepping out of her vehicle, I headed in the back door then straight to the restroom to fix my smeared makeup.
THE REST OF the day was strange. The atmosphere of the office was full of excitement and sadness. Cliff was on target with his predictions. Mayor Cayhill gave a nice little speech from his desk to a packed room full of eager reporters as Detective Greenwood looked on. He made sure to thank all those involved in the investigation of his beloved wife, spoke of how justice would prevail, and what a wonderful, compassionate group of people lived in Ridgeport and Whitten County.
Traci and I never spoke during the full eight hours. After Mayor Cayhill did his best to smooth safety concerns to all of Whitten County’s residents—and I’m sure to the secret investors who were surely watching the live broadcast—Traci spent most of the afternoon inside his office. The other two employees huddled by themselves in the copy room, grousing and gossiping about the arrests of crazy Kendrick Paulson, Jr.
My day was spent answering the phones which rang incessantly. I’d taken over one-hundred calls from residents, most wanting to offer condolences to the Mayor. Unwilling to interrupt the little pow-wow between Traci and the Mayor, I took messages. By the time four o’clock rolled around, the stack of pink paper was several inches thick.
During the news conference, I took the opportunity to send Cliff a text, mentioning I’d need a ride home after work. His response almost made me laugh out loud, but I contained myself.
“Figured. I doubt Traci Rogers will ever want you in her vehicle again.”
It was four-twenty and the phones were finally quiet. Shari and Myrtle decided they’d gabbed each other’s ears off enough and left the copy room. They both ignored me as they walked to their desks and shut their computers down. Hateful old skanks. They’d both worked for the Mayor for years and weren’t friendly or helpful at all to new employees, including Traci. She’d mentioned my first day they were both quite territorial and she was right.
Both women left without saying goodbye and I didn’t care. They were gone, Traci was still in with the mayor, and I had ten minutes to kill before Cliff came to pick me up. Instead of sitting still, I decided to use the opportunity of an empty office. While walking to the filing room, sirens wailed outside. One right after another, which usually meant an ugly wreck on the interstate.
I poked around in the files but didn’t find anything that screamed “Hey, pick me up! Incriminating document here!” Then again, I had no clue what I should be looking for, so I gave up and went back to my desk.
The second I sat down, Traci opened the door and exited Mayor Cayhill’s office. She looked like she’d just spent the afternoon in the principal’s office. She walked past me like I wasn’t there, grabbed her purse, and left. By the sound of her footsteps, it sounded like she was running.
My phone vibrated in my hand and I jumped. Jesus, I was a bundle of raw nerves, and knowing I was stuck inside the office with only Mayor Cayhill made my throat dry. I stood, snatched up my purse, and headed to the front door while trying to read the text from Cliff.
“Big wreck on I-30 overpass. Stuck in traffic. Be there soon. You okay?”
Damn!
Panic roared up inside me, wondering how long I’d have to wait outside.
“Renee? A moment please?”
Turning, I felt my knees go weak when I saw Mayor Cayhill standing less than three feet away. The look on his face was downright terrifying. Gone was the warm countenance from before, replaced by a stern look of anger.
No way was I going to be alone with him. I reached the front door and tried to open it, but it was locked.
“I asked Traci to make sure we had no interruptions while we have ourselves a long chat.”
Oh, God!
Cliff never mentioned exactly how the recording device worked, so I said a silent prayer it somehow went to his phone and he was listening.
“I know you’re waiting for Deputy Simpson to come fetch you, but I’m afraid he’s going to be late. Stuck in traffic, you know.”
The eeriness in the Mayor’s voice made my head spin. I straightened my shoulders and faced him, hoping he’d say something incriminating since it was all being recorded—and he had no clue. “One I’m sure wasn’t an actual accident, correct?”
Mayor Cayhill grinned wide. “Correct. You catch on quick, Renee. Unfortunately, not quick enough.”
Detective Greenwood emerged from the other side of the door. Before I could even utter a sound, he was on me. Yanking my cell away, he tossed it to the floor and stomped on it. The sounds of the shattering plastic and glass sent waves of fear pulsing through my chest.
“That was rude, Detective. If you wanted to borrow my phone, you could’ve simply asked.”
“Silence that mouth of hers until I’m ready to hear her speak again,” Mayor Cayhill snarled.
I tried to run, pushing past the pain in my back, forcing my limbs to listen to me. I made it less than five feet down the hallway, my shoes making a weird sound on the marble floor, before Detective Greenwood grabbed a handful of my hair.
He spun me around. I clawed at his face but he was so much bigger than I was, it didn’t matter. When his big hand balled up into a fist, the years of abuse from Billy took over.
Instead of fighting back, I cowered, watching his fist come toward my face in slow motion, praying the first hit would be enough to kill me.
“Gladly, sir,” Detective Greenwood muttered.
Red, hot pain burst inside my head as stars replaced the images of the Greenwood, City Hall, and the Mayor.
“TIME TO WAKE up, Renee. We’re all set up for our chat now.”
The ammonia stench under my nose jerked me out of unconsciousness. It took a few seconds for me to get my bearings. Once the burn of ammonia disappeared, it was replaced by a familiar scent it took me a full minute to recognize.
Traci’s perfume.
The heavy, dull throb in my right jaw reminded me of the last beating I took from Billy, and being knocked out somehow dislodged dark, twisted memories from my past. Things I’d shelved and blamed on others, unwilling to let the truth rumble inside my mind.
Thirty-three years of mental anguish, blocked from my thoughts, only appearing in my nightmares, were free.
I knew why I was here, how all this tied to me, and exactly how I’d use my own dark secret to my advantage. The punch dislodged hidden memories, ones I’d jumbled up inside my mind. The conversation with my mother the night I was sixteen roared back and this time, I remembered it the correct way, rather than how I wanted the truth to be.
I’d been the one who came clean about Dad and Cyndi after coming home from work and listening to Mom sob about being alone. My confession broke Mom’s spirit and drove her to hit the bottle even harder. My mother’s death was on my hands, just like the others.
“Get her into a chair,” Mayor Cayhill barked.
Rough hands untied the rope around my wrists. I knew without looking they belonged to Greenwood. Plastic rustled as he picked me up from Traci’s bed and shoved me onto a chair in the middle of her living room.
Rubbing my sore wrists, I glanced past Greenwood and Cayhill and over at Traci. She stood in the doorway l
eading to the kitchen, a cigarette in her shaking hands. Her big eyes were wild with fright and determination. Maybe a hint of remorse. Her beauty was overshadowed by her dark intentions. I gave her a wicked grin and said, “I’ve got a new nickname for you. Traci the Twat. Fits you perfectly. Wonder if your aunt Sylvia would approve of you killing me on her property?”
“Hurry up and get this over with,” Traci muttered then turned and disappeared into the dark kitchen.
“Ladies, let’s not be hateful. We are here together to discuss business. No sense in making our time difficult.”
I laughed at the mayor’s words and saw a glint of anger sparkle behind his eyes, “Yep. Politician from head to toe, even when on the cusp of killing someone. Did you use the same tactic on your wife, or just jump her from behind?”
Greenwood tensed up but Cayhill threw his head back and laughed. “You’ve known all along, haven’t you?”
“Actually, no. Not even when Traci tried to pull information from me last night and this morning. Was that your idea, Mayor?”
“It was.”
“Too bad you opted to rely on words rather than pain to get the information you wanted. Not good planning on your part. Abuse victims respond to fear, not kindness. When Greenwood stuck his fist in my face, I remembered things I buried years ago.”
Mayor Cayhill narrowed his eyes while studying my face. A look of surprise beamed on his forehead. “Are you trying to say all this time you didn’t know?”
I smiled. “I’m not trying to say it. I just did.”
“She’s lying, Peyton,” Greenwood interjected.
Cayhill shook his head. “No, Richard, I don’t think she is. Perhaps we miscalculated a few points.”
“Oh, you did. Your first mistake was killing your wife. The second was involving me. The third was framing an innocent man. All because your wife was a whore, Peyton.”
Suicide Lake Page 10
