Now You See Me

by Rachel Carrington

  “You look like hell.” Kate said the first thing that came to mind.

  Brad’s lips curved into a smile. “Thanks.” He opened the door wider. “Want to come in?”

  So civil. What she wanted to do was kick him. She walked in instead. The house still looked the same, maybe a little messier. The old mariner’s trunk was scattered with papers and several empty longnecks sat on the floor next to the couch.

  “I see you fired the maid.” Clasping her hands together in front of her, Kate waited for him to respond, to say anything that would open the floodgates of words that hadn’t been said, that needed to be said.

  Brad indicated the couch with a sweep of his hand. “Tying up a few loose ends at work. Didn’t realize it took so much effort.”

  Kate sat, saw the letter of recommendation topping the pile of paperwork. “Are you going back to work at the prison?”

  “No.” Brad scooped up the sheets and carried them to the kitchen counter. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting company.”

  “I imagine you really weren’t expecting me.” Why wasn’t he giving her more than a few stilted responses? She looked up at him, saw him studying the floor like he’d lost something.

  He cleared his throat. “Since you didn’t call me when you left the hospital, I thought you wanted some space.”

  “You gave me enough of that in the hospital, don’t you think?” Her tone had bite. She didn’t even try to soften it. She’d spent a week since being released from the hospital wondering if he was going to call her, and now he’d tossed the ball back in her court, blaming her for not making the first call.

  Brad sat on the arm of the sofa at the opposite end, released a heavy sigh. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted…” He stopped talking, sighed again. “I wasn’t sure where either of us was going. You said you were moving and—”

  “You didn’t come to the hospital before you knew I was moving, Brad. Does the bandage make you uncomfortable? Or had you just done your job and that was it?” Now the light of battle had switched on. She wanted answers, and she’d damn well get them before she left Brad’s house for the last time.

  Brad massaged his eyes. “I didn’t know what in the hell was going on, Kate, where we were supposed to go from you almost dying. What’s the next logical step after something like that happens?”

  Kate got to her feet, approached him. “Does it have to be logical?”

  His stiff posture told her not to come any closer. “You almost died, Kate. I heard the team say you weren’t breathing.” His hands clenched into fists. “There I was in the same room with you, helpless, and for a moment I thought…” Words trailed off again.

  “What? That I was Hannah all over again?”

  His head shot up. “This isn’t about Hannah.”

  “Who are you trying to kid? It’s always been about Hannah. That’s the reason you offered to protect me. It’s the reason why you’re blaming yourself that John Ramsey got so close to me.” When he didn’t speak, she knew she’d hit the bull’s-eye. “And here I thought I was a control freak.”

  Brad ran his hands down the legs of his jeans. “Control never was the issue. You came too close.”

  “But I didn’t die! Instead, I lay in that hospital bed wondering if you were going to darken my doorway, trying to bury what I felt when I was with you. When I was stuck there, something told me you were blaming yourself, but I didn’t want to believe it.” She came forward, ignoring his wary look. “I’m not Hannah, Brad. I survived because of you. If you hadn’t been there, I don’t know if I could have fought Ramsey off, but I do know because you were there, I didn’t have to.”

  She yanked the remaining bandage off her neck, revealing the angry scar she’d seen one too many times in her bedroom mirror. “Yes, I got this, but it will fade in time. No, I’m not over what happened. I don’t know how long it will take to put it behind me, but regardless of what happens now between you and me, I could have used a friend. I thought, at the very least, that’s what we were.”

  When he didn’t speak she walked to the door. “I’m sorry I was wrong.”

  Her words pushed him to his feet. “Kate, it’s not about being right or wrong here. Neither one of us knows where we’re going. You’ve already said you were moving, and I’m leaving the correctional system. This isn’t the time to try to figure out…us.”

  Kate couldn’t turn back around. Tears rained down her cheeks. “I didn’t think we needed figuring out.” How could something that had felt so right hurt so much?

  “You don’t just walk away from what you went through without a few scars, and it’s not something you should even try to come to terms with alone.”

  She heard his footsteps behind her. “I’m not alone. I have my family and Aaron. I’ll be fine.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” He took hold of her arm but she yanked it free, still refusing to look at him. “Dammit, Kate. What I’m trying to say is—”

  “You’ve made it perfectly clear what you’re trying to say, Brad. You don’t need to spell it out for me.” One hand on the doorknob, she was ready to flee, but Brad’s next sentence stopped her.

  “Eventually you’ll get to the point where you blame me for not getting there in time, for not keeping Ramsey away from you. You might not see it now, but I do. I know how strong that need is to blame someone, and I’d rather let you blame me than yourself.”

  Kate rotated slowly, her arms wrapped around her waist. “This wasn’t your fault. So how could I blame you?”

  “It’s a natural reaction.”

  “No. It’s your reaction. Don’t try to tell me how I’m going to feel two months or ten months from now, because you don’t know. I’m not one of the crime victims you dealt with as a cop, Brad.”

  Brad grew quiet for a long moment before finally responding. “For the longest time after Hannah was killed, I couldn’t sleep without seeing her finger pointing at me.” He retreated to the sofa, dropped down onto a cushion. “I could never hear her voice but I knew what she was saying. Why didn’t I stop him? Why didn’t I get there sooner?”

  Kate’s hand dropped away from the knob. “I’m alive and I’m not interested in blaming anyone for a scar I got while trying to survive.” She wanted to shake him, to break through that defensive wall he’d put up around himself and his heart. “And you and I both know this isn’t just about blame. You’re scared.”

  His head jerked up, his eyes stabbing hers. “Of what?”

  “Of getting close to someone you might lose again. I don’t know that much about your relationship with Hannah but I’d hazard a guess that it was close. That’s why you’ve mourned her for so long. But you can’t protect everyone, Brad, and you can’t stop all the evil in the world.” She took a step closer to him, stretched out a hand and caressed his cheek.

  “And you can’t let Hannah’s death be the end of your own life. You’ve kept everyone at bay long enough. Don’t you think it’s time you let someone in?”

  Brad linked his fingers, stared at them. “As I said, this isn’t about Hannah.”

  He wouldn’t give in, wouldn’t admit what she clearly saw. There was nothing more to say. “I hope you allow yourself to see the truth before you lose more years.” When he didn’t respond, she bent at the waist and kissed his cheek.

  She walked out of the silence, this time without tears. She’d said what she’d needed to say. Whether or not it got through to Brad she’d probably never know. As much as it hurt her heart to leave him behind, she couldn’t stay where she wasn’t wanted. Clearly Brad hadn’t reached a point in his life where he could trust anyone else with his heart.

  She sat for a few moments behind the wheel of her car, just staring at the one light shining through his living room window. His shadow moved in front of the curtains but he didn’t look out.

  Minutes ticked by while she gave him a chance to come after her, an optimist until the end. When the lamp went out she put her car in reverse and backed out of his driveway.r />
  Brad had made his decision clear.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Kate, you don’t have to do this. You can find another house. We’ll get top-notch security installed. Hell, I’ll even pull the cost out of The Chronicle’s budget.” Aaron took hold of her shoulders and guided her to the chair across from his desk. “Now, you just sit here and listen to me.”

  “Aaron, there’s nothing else to listen to. I’ve already got an offer on the house.”

  He blanched. “That damn quick?”

  “It’s a buyer’s market.” She fiddled with the zipper on her purse, wondered if Brad had everything wrapped up at the prison. What was he doing now? Almost two weeks had passed since she’d left his house and she hadn’t heard a thing from him. Not knowing was driving her insane.

  “Still. I’m sure your folks won’t mind you staying with them a bit longer until we find you a more suitable place. How about one of those gated communities? You’ll be safer there, and you can work from home a couple days a week to keep from having to leave your house so much. How’s that?” He gave her a broad smile, as though he’d accomplished something no one else had.

  Kate hated to disappoint him but remaining in Charleston wasn’t an option. Not now. “Aaron, I have to go.”

  “It’s because of him, isn’t it?” Aaron crossed his arms over his bulky chest. “You still haven’t heard from the bastard, have you?”

  “He’s not a bastard. We just didn’t see things the same way.”

  “Guy broke your heart is what he did. Now what I should do is go kick his ass, maybe kick a little sense into him while I’m at it.” Aaron’s face reddened as his temper climbed. “How the man could even think he’s going to find someone better than you is a mystery.”

  “He’s not looking.” She’d covered this topic with Aaron again and again. Then he’d gotten Marilyn to insert her two cents’ worth. “And I’m not waiting.”

  Aaron stroked his chin. “I understand that. You don’t want to sit around waiting on a man. No, it’s better to make him think you’re moving on without him. Marilyn did that to me, you know.” He plowed on before Kate could reply. “Just up and walked out on me because I wasn’t getting my act together. Her words, not mine. When I realized I was about to lose her, well, let me tell you, I got some smarts real quick.”

  Kate wished it were that simple, but she couldn’t change a man’s heart. The longer she’d had to think about Brad, the more she’d begun to realize that she’d been hoping for something he didn’t feel. And she couldn’t force him to be what she wanted him to be.

  “Will you be able to write that letter of recommendation you’ve been promising me for two weeks?” The gentle nudge sailed right over Aaron’s head.

  “Anyways, Marilyn and I were talking last night, and we both think you just need to take a vacation. Just go away for a few weeks, but don’t uproot your life. I mean, I know things got scary as hell with that crazy bastard in prison,” Aaron waved a hand for emphasis, “but he’s gone now, so there’s no sense in you pulling up stakes. A vacation, though, that’s never a bad thing.”

  How many more ways could she tell Aaron that her decision was made? She crossed her legs and watched his animations get livelier. He marched around his office, arms flailing like he was drowning. When he finally finished his spiel Kate scooted to the edge of the chair and lowered her voice to force him to listen.

  “I can’t stay.”

  He plopped down so hard on the edge of his desk, it tilted. “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Whichever contraction you choose. Now, I have to get going. I have a lot of packing to get done before the movers arrive tomorrow morning.” She stood, slid her purse strap up her shoulder. “Give Marilyn a kiss for me.”

  “You know, I think that Brad Jericho fella isn’t the only one who needs a good swift kick,” Aaron grumbled, his brows so low they nearly met in the middle.

  Kate smiled on her way to the door. “I’ll miss you too.”

  “Now, how did you get that out of what I said?”

  “I’m great at reading between the lines.” She threw him a wink over her shoulder and slid her hand along the door as she left. On her way she passed so many familiar things and people, she wondered if she was doing the right thing.

  But what was done was done. She’d already accepted the offer and, except for a few more boxes, she was already out of her house, having moved most of her stuff into storage. She certainly didn’t regret selling the house. Knowing John Ramsey had her address bothered her too much to ever be able to live there peacefully again.

  On her way out of the offices she paused to look at the long row of award-winning journalists. Their pictures had been posted on the wall for the last century. She’d joined those ranks with her first story.

  She touched her portrait, then let her hand fall away. Nerves formed a jittery ball in the pit of her stomach as she walked out of The Chronicle for the last time.

  “One of the units rode by this house last night, saw it was sold. The address was familiar but I couldn’t place it.” Roddingham slapped a piece of paper down on Brad’s desk.

  “Why do you care if a house is sold?” Brad’s gaze dropped to the address. Kate. He looked up at his boss but the captain’s long strides were already carrying him back to his office.

  “Subtle, Captain,” he muttered, turning the piece of paper over in his hand. When had the house sold? It hadn’t been on the market that long. Did that mean Kate had already left?

  A knot the size of a baseball lodged itself in his windpipe. A fist knocked on the plate glass window in his captain’s office, drawing several sets of eyes, including Brad’s. Roddingham was tapping his watch, his way of saying time was being wasted.

  Brad didn’t immediately move. He’d already blown his chance with Kate and no amount of apologies or regrets would change that. She’d walked out of his life and he’d let her. How could he expect her to forget that?

  The sleepless nights didn’t matter. He’d made this decision, and he’d been trying to live with it. Although, from the squad’s not-too-veiled jibes, he hadn’t been doing a very good job of it. Roddingham’s sledgehammer hit was just another point.

  Another knock on the window, this time much louder, brought Brad to his feet. He lifted his hand in a two-fingered wave and snagged his suit coat. Well, at the very least he could drive by her house, see if she was already moved out. If she was there, he could… He wasn’t sure what he could do, but Roddingham wasn’t going to stop knocking.

  And he couldn’t keep sitting there wondering if Kate had already left the city lights of Charleston behind.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Be careful with that. It’s an antique.” Kate blew the bangs out of her face and wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. Surveying all that remained of her belongings didn’t create that empty feeling she’d been prepared for.

  A crash sounded outside the front door and she groaned. She didn’t even consider that was her grandmother’s lamp. Instead she closed her eyes, ticked off a few presidents on her fingers and resumed working. There’d be plenty of time to discover the tragedies of the move later. She just needed to get everything in the blasted truck before she went into overtime with the rental fees.

  “Ms. Elliott, was it the vase that was an antique or the mirror?”

  “The lamp.”

  “Oh good. It’s all right, guys. We didn’t break the antique.”

  The shout did little to reassure her. She tightened the knot in her haphazard ponytail and began taping another box together.

  “It looks like you’re about cleared out of here.”

  There was a voice she hadn’t been sure she’d ever hear again. Containing her excitement, she continued with her work. “Almost. Just a few more boxes, some odds and ends.”

  She sensed his presence long before he joined her in the kitchen. The room got hotter and she became very aware of how she looked. With the plan to work
all day, she’d donned frayed jeans, an I Love New York T-shirt she’d bought almost twenty years ago, and flip-flops. She’d tossed her hair into a ponytail and forgone the makeup, knowing the temperatures outside would just melt it off anyway.

  And she hadn’t expected to see Brad. Or for him to see her. It shouldn’t matter what she wore or that her hair needed a washing, but in that last scene between the hero and heroine of the old movies she loved, the woman always looked put together…even if the hero was saying goodbye.

  She almost laughed aloud. Her thoughts reminded her how she’d been spending her last few nights—sprawled in front of the TV with a pint of ice cream and a stack of Cary Grant movies to keep her company.

  “The house sold pretty quickly.” His voice strained, Brad held the box in place so she could secure the tape.

  “Thanks. Yeah.” She stepped back, brushed her hands down her jeans, leaving a dirty smudge in place. Finally she raised her head to see him and, in spite of the suit and tie, he didn’t look any better than she did.

  Dark smudges lingered under his eyes and his face bore at least a day’s worth of stubble if not more. With his hands now in his pockets, and his hair falling slightly forward, he looked as uncomfortable as she felt.

  “Kate, we need to—”

  “Brad, what are you—”

  They spoke simultaneously then stopped with awkward laughs. Brad swept out a hand. “Ladies first.”

  “I was just going to ask what you were doing here since our last conversation seemed kind of final.” Unable to face him any longer, she turned around, busying herself with removing the last remaining wall plaques hanging over the kitchen sink.

  “I was going to say we need to talk.”

  Her fingertip traced the edge of the lacquered wood in her hand. “If you’d waited another day you would have missed me altogether.”

  “I’m glad I didn’t wait.” He came up behind her, placed both of his hands on her arms. “Will you look at me?”