Evelyn stumbled back. When her foot caught on the edge of something, she sat down hard, sharp edges of wood and rock poking into her soft flesh. But the pain barely reached her. She sprang back up, spinning in a frantic circle, trying to spot the officers who were likely descending on her, guns drawn.
Already, her mind was forming lies, excuses. I was just out for a run, I got lost, I took a shortcut, I didn’t know, I didn’t know!
She held up her hands, turned more slowly. No one appeared.
Evelyn closed her eyes, straining to hear something new. But the forest sounded the same. Frogs, crickets, flies. Now the screaming of a crow somewhere distant. There were no crashing boots or shouted orders. She’d seen too many movies. There weren’t any cops here, just like there weren’t any ghosts.
She was an idiot. A stupid, helpless, foolish idiot.
Dropping her hands, she turned back to face the shack.
Now that she looked more carefully, she could see that two more strips of the police tape hung limp along the inside of the door, as if the tape had been put up days ago and never touched since. It didn’t look like an active scene. In a week, the police tape would likely all blow away and be forgotten forever.
But it was here for a reason. This building must be related to Kaylee’s death. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Not this close.
She scanned the small clearing one more time before taking a step toward the shack. When nothing bad happened, she took two more.
The door had seemed to be hanging by only one hinge, but now she saw it wasn’t hanging at all. It was propped against the doorway, covering most of the opening, but not all. Daring to draw nearer, she leaned her face close to one of the cracks, but not enough light stole through the broken windows, and she was too afraid to scoot the door aside.
After listening one more time for any alarming sounds, Evelyn moved carefully along the line of the wall until she reached one of those blank black windows. She turned on the flashlight on her phone and held it high.
As the beam of light swept over the interior of the shack, Evelyn frowned in confusion. Despite outward appearances, this place wasn’t exactly abandoned. A stained ancient mattress lay on the dirt floor, and fast-food trash was scattered everywhere. She could see several bent spoons as well. Sheltered as she was, even Evelyn knew what that meant.
Someone had been living here, using drugs here, and Kaylee had been missing for weeks. This was it. The reason the teenager had been on Old Highway 23 in the middle of the night. She’d been high or just cold and confused. Maybe she’d thought she would hitch a ride somewhere. Or maybe she’d just wandered onto the road and started walking.
Whatever had happened, this was where it had started.
When Evelyn decided to leave, it didn’t take long to find the trail. The shack sat only about forty feet from it, which made sense. Local kids wouldn’t know this place was here if it weren’t accessible.
As she trekked back to her car, Evelyn found she felt a little better, which was strange. Nothing had changed, after all, but she had discovered something.
Maybe she wasn’t such an idiot. Whether she’d crossed a line—or several lines—or not, she was piecing together what she needed to know of the story. Digging at the nastiness infecting her. If she could get the wound clean, it might have a chance to heal. She could get back to her life. Move on.
If she could gather all the information, maybe there’d be hope for her marriage. Maybe there’d be hope for her.
CHAPTER 21
AFTER
Evelyn stretched hard, loving the way her belly went flat for a moment under Noah’s sprawled hand. She pointed her toes past the arm of the ugly brown couch, then relaxed back into the cushions. “I can’t believe you moved the couch in here so quickly.”
“I was motivated.”
“By little ol’ me?”
“Mm.” He nuzzled her neck, then chuckled at the way she immediately arched for more. “I live to satisfy.”
“You certainly did earlier.”
There was that adorably proud little-boy smile again. She shook her head, but he’d earned it. He’d pushed her onto the couch, pulled off her panties, and proceeded to give her the best orgasm of her life. She’d read that sex got better with age, but she hadn’t believed it until now.
Of course, she’d returned the favor. And she’d enjoyed that more than any oral sex she’d ever given too. She was floating now. Buzzing with hormones that felt as intense as drugs. And Noah was her path to more.
She sighed. “I can’t wait for California.”
“Five more days.”
She loved that he was counting down. “You should come stay in my spa room. It’s got a huge tub. A shower for two.”
Noah groaned and ducked his head to kiss her breast. “Okay, you talked me into it. I’ll be there as often as I can.”
“Three days of this,” she whispered.
“Three days of better than this.”
“I don’t think I can take any better,” she said honestly. “That was so good. Am I supposed to say that? Or am I supposed to play coy?”
“No, you’re absolutely supposed to say that. You’re supposed to tell me I’m an unbelievably good lover and you’ve never had better.”
“I’ve never had better,” she repeated, and it was true. He was certainly attentive, but it wasn’t just that. Whatever electricity was arcing between them intensified even the barest touch into a torturous, shivery stroke. She still felt too conscious of her body when she was looking at herself in the mirror, but once she was with him, all her modesty drowned in a tsunami of lust and she no longer cared.
“What time is it?” she asked.
He glanced at his watch. “Only nine thirty.”
“Good.” She snuggled even closer than she needed to on the narrow couch cushions, his naked body pressed all along her side. “I like talking to you this way.”
“Me too.”
“I finished another painting.”
“Another woman?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you always paint women?”
“Almost always. There’s something . . . I don’t know. There’s something powerful about women, isn’t there? But it’s a quiet power. It lends itself to being revealed on canvas.” She smiled. “Or maybe it’s just a yearning for my mother.”
“How old were you when she died?”
“Nineteen.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and kissed the top of her head.
She’d met Gary not long after. Maybe that was why she’d been so thoroughly seduced by the security of a life with him. No father, and her mother just lost. She didn’t want to think about it now. Gary was her past.
“I thought maybe I’d bring it next time. See what you think.”
“Yes,” he said immediately. “Tomorrow.”
“Okay. If it’s dry, I’ll bring it in the morning.” They’d do this again tomorrow. “Do you think . . . ?” She abruptly reconsidered her idle question and swallowed it.
“What?”
Evelyn shook her head. “It’s stupid.”
“Nothing is stupid. I want to know what you’re thinking. I wish I could know everything about you. Read your mind.”
“Now, that would be a bit much. But . . . do you think we could do this forever? Meet like this? I was in an incredibly good mood at work the other day.”
“You mean we could do this like coffee? Just a regular part of our days?”
“Why not?”
Laughing, he kissed her, a quick peck that turned into something softer. “I’d like that. A lot.”
That was something. She knew Noah loved his wife. He didn’t want to hurt her, but despite that, he didn’t want to give up Evelyn either. He wanted both, and Evelyn was willing to give him that. For now.
But only for now. Because at long last, there had been a new development in Kaylee’s case.
Just that morning, Dawn had announced that the pol
ice believed Kaylee was with a friend when she died, and they were calling for anyone who had information to come forward.
Please, if you’ve heard something, PLEASE call the hotline, even if you don’t want to leave your name. Kaylee may be gone, but she loved you and you are still her friends! If you’re the one who knows what happened that night, please come forward. We just want to know.
A couple of weeks ago, this message would have sent Evelyn into a tailspin. The terror, anxiety, and uncertainty would have broken her into tiny, quaking pieces. But today? Today she’d felt only a deep sense of rightness.
She could see everything now. She’d chosen to follow all the unraveled threads of that terrible night, and they’d led her here. To this couch. With this man.
She’d never been a big believer in destiny or fate, but she’d always believed in silver linings. Out of something awful, something wonderful could grow. And this was her wonderful. Noah.
She wasn’t foolish enough to believe she loved him yet. They hardly knew each other, really. But they had something. Something meaningful. She saw him. He saw her. They brought out art and laughter and daring in each other.
And they both deserved better than their spouses had given. They both deserved this.
“What’s your favorite spot in the world?” she asked him, settling her head against his chest so his heartbeat filled her head.
His hand slipped gently between her legs.
“Stop!” she shrieked, laughing as she wiggled away.
“Okay, besides that? I don’t know. Somewhere on the coast, I think.”
“Monterey will be beautiful,” she said, picturing the cliff she’d painted.
“It will be. But there’s a little island on the East Coast I like even more. I went to an art festival there a couple of times, but the show was canceled three years ago. I can’t imagine when I’ll ever get back.”
“Oh, no! Where is it?”
“Off the coast of Rhode Island.”
Evelyn gasped. “Are you talking about Block Island?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“I’ve been there!”
He lifted his head to look at her. “No. Nobody I know has even heard about it.”
“We rented a home there for a week when Cameron was four! I don’t even remember why. One of my husband’s colleagues was going on about it or something. I loved it! I’ve fantasized for years about living there.”
“Can you imagine how beautiful it must be once the tourists are gone?”
“Totally isolated. Totally quiet. I used to think about it all the time.”
“Man, I love that place.”
“You could open a gallery there!”
He laughed. “You could move there and paint.”
God, wouldn’t that be lovely? It was a ridiculous fantasy—not even a fantasy, really, just a wild story to tell herself—but she could imagine strolling on the beach with Noah, no one else around for miles. It’d be so isolated they could make love on the beach before going back to a room of windows that looked over the ocean, easels set up so she could capture the waves.
Warmth started at the top of her head and slid slowly down her body. “That’s a crazy coincidence, Noah.” The warmth swept back through her when she felt his name in her mouth. She loved saying it. Loved sighing it out.
“Maybe that’s our connection,” he offered.
No. That wasn’t their connection. Not even close. But it was another sign. Jesus, maybe she did believe in destiny. She’d loved Block Island so much. Even Gary had relaxed there. He’d never even curled his lip at the mediocre restaurant meals.
On their last full day of the vacation, Evelyn had walked almost the entire perimeter of the island, stopping to look at every “For Sale” sign she’d seen.
It was a true island, surrounded by the sea, thirteen miles from the nearest coast. The place had been crowded with summer visitors like them, ferried over from the mainland for a day or a week. But how idyllic it must be for the other nine months of the year. A fairy-tale setting. Old clapboard houses and churches and two lighthouses. She’d wanted it. But there wasn’t enough of a population to support a psychiatrist. It had been a fleeting dream.
But now the dream was back. “Maybe they’ll start the art festival back up again,” she said.
“If they do, you could meet me there.”
Her heart tightened to an ache. Yes. She could meet him there. Steal a few days. Maybe a week. They could browse the little bookstore and buy homemade candy and watch a fireworks show over the water. They could sleep with the windows open to the sea and order breakfast in bed and charter a sailboat for one perfect afternoon.
A distant knock made them both jerk in guilty shock. Their heads swung to the monitor. A UPS man stood at the door.
“Shit,” Noah cursed as he climbed naked over her body and grabbed his pants. She relaxed back into the couch and watched him dress, smiling at the way he jumped from one foot to the other. His buttocks were lightly furred with nearly invisible hair, and she already liked the feel of it under her hands. He skipped the shoes and buttoned his shirt on the way to the hallway.
Evelyn watched on the monitor as Noah’s back filled the camera, then as he exchanged words she couldn’t hear with the delivery person. It felt strangely exhilarating to lie naked only a few dozen feet away.
In less than a minute, Noah was back with two boxes. “Thank God it wasn’t my regular guy. He comes to the back door. That would have been a scramble.”
Evelyn stretched an arm idly over her head. “Nonsense. I’m obviously an artist’s model. Nothing strange about that.”
“No, you look distinctly like a woman who’s just had the best sex of her life.”
When he didn’t rejoin her on the couch, she groaned. “Is it time to get dressed? Or have you already tired of me?”
“Time to get dressed. Though if it were up to me, you could stay there all day just like that.”
“While you work?” She laughed.
“Yes. A nice little treat whenever I need coffee.”
“I know I’m not supposed to be flattered at being made into a sexual object for your enjoyment, but I’m a little flattered.”
“I’d volunteer to do the same at your job.”
Snorting with laughter over the image of him sprawled naked on the couch in the teachers’ lounge, Evelyn sat up and grabbed her wrap dress. “Where did you throw my panties this time?” she asked, feeling like the most thrillingly decadent woman in the world.
He found her underwear and brought her a kiss as well. After school, she’d need to do more shopping. She was quickly running out of sexy options, and she was someone’s filthy lover now. That took care.
She made it into work on time, though she did take a few extra minutes in her car to check out the rumor mill on Facebook. So far there was nothing but more conjecture. It felt strange to think that, out of all the people in the world, Evelyn was the one who knew the most about this crime.
Gary and Juliette had been there, of course, but Evelyn had heard Gary’s story, and she also knew what was going on with Kaylee’s family. She even knew about the shack where Kaylee had likely been living.
Dawn Brigham and the police knew those last details, but they had no idea who had been driving the car or why they hadn’t stopped. Evelyn was the only link between all of them, and she was just waiting for someone else to connect the dots.
Whichever junkie friend had been with Kaylee that night would eventually be tracked down. At the very least, there’d be a description of the car and the man who’d gotten out to check on Kaylee. There might even be part of a license plate.
It had only taken ten days for Gary to feel safe enough to get the small dent in the BMW repaired and drive it again. That was on the record now for the police to find.
There would be fallout, of course. Gary would lose his practice. Cameron would find out the truth, but he’d go off to college and move on. And Evelyn . . . well, E
velyn just wasn’t afraid anymore. She didn’t need Gary or this community or her reputation. She’d happily leave it all behind. And Noah would be free of Juliette.
Granted, there’d be some discomfort in explaining Evelyn’s connection to his wife, but surely Noah would understand the horror of what she’d been going through. She hadn’t been in her right mind. Maybe she’d even gone a little mad. But she was fine now. She’d never, ever felt so right.
Evelyn hadn’t quite made it down the hallway to the school office when she was accosted.
Jackie Arthur stood in her way, arms and legs akimbo as if she’d been working herself up for this confrontation. “Everybody wants to know what’s going on with the volunteer dinner. There’re only five weeks of school left.”
Instead of answering immediately, Evelyn looked idly at her phone, swiped through a couple of messages, and then raised one eyebrow. “There’s not going to be a volunteer dinner.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said there won’t be a dinner.”
“What are you talking about?”
Irritated by having to stand in the hall only a few steps from her office, Evelyn moved forward and refused to alter her path. Jackie squeaked and twitched to the side just in time to avoid being pushed.
“What I’m talking about,” Evelyn said as she rounded the counter and dropped her purse on the desk, “is the fact that I put in more hours organizing that dinner than any of the award winners put into doing actual school stuff.”
“It’s their reward for the work!”
“And where’s my reward?”
Jackie scoffed. “Is that what this is about? You want someone to give you an award too? Fine! Have a plaque engraved for yourself! But we’re having this dinner.”
“No. It’s stupid to waste so much money and energy in order to pat people on the back for things they should’ve been happy to do in the first place. We can have an assembly in the theater and hand out awards there. No renting tables, no paying caterers, no asking the Honor Society kids to act as waiters. Frankly, they’re never very good at it.”
“What is going on with you?” Jackie demanded. “You used to be good at this; now you’re worse than useless. You’re a detriment to the volunteer program.”
Evelyn, After: A Novel Page 16
