“Huh...” Cooper scratched his ear.
“What?” I asked.
He turned the phone toward me. “Supposedly you’re a dead woman.”
6
The words lingered in my ears, but didn’t seem to go past the barrier to my brain. I heard them, but they made little sense. Seeing the picture on the phone didn’t help things. A woman with my face looked back from the article. She held up a New Years glass, wore a silly top hat, and had a megawatt smile that I couldn’t fathom belonged to me. But it did.
“What?”
I took the phone from his hands, scrolling through the page, thinking it had to be some sort of prank. Some insane joke. Maybe the stress of everything played tricks on my mind. Maybe Cooper drugged the coffee. That made more sense. Anything made more sense than staring at a woman, proclaimed not just dead but murdered, who looked just like me.
None of the research I’d ever done on Erik’s phone yielded this result, or anything even close to it.
“How did you even find this so fast?” I asked.
“I’m good at cross-referencing. Typed in your features and probable age, along with missing.” He shrugged. “Alessandra Carter came right up.”
“Alessandra Carter.”
Sandra.
I’d been searching for months and nothing. He takes the phone and two seconds later has a photo of me. Or at least of my face.
To be fair, I wasn’t looking for a murdered or missing woman. I’d been looking for someone who’d had an accident. Totally different search terms.
My stomach clenched as I read through the article. Alessandra Carter, affectionately known as Sandra, was a twenty-eight-year-old social worker. They found her beaten to death in the alley behind her apartment building.
Police suspected the boyfriend. Jake Saunders.
His picture stared back at me with those stark green eyes.
I felt myself pale. The world shifted, and all that caramel that had tasted so wonderful a few moments ago threatened to come back up.
Cooper leaned forward, concern in his eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. Whatever this is, we will figure it out.”
Tears burned my eyes. Fear scorched in my throat as my mouth opened. Only a soft sob came out. Cooper wrapped his arms around me and I hid my face in the crook of his face. The smell of him, at any other moment, would intoxicate, but with the insane storm of thoughts rushing around in my brain, even that couldn’t break me out of it.
“Why would he lie to me?” My warm breath bounced off his skin and he shivered.
He cleared his throat. “We should call the police.”
I sat up. “What? No.”
“Lenore...”
“What are we going to say? I might be a murdered woman?”
“You might be Alessandra Carter. Don’t you want to know if you are?”
That name seemed foreign. It definitely belonged to someone else. Not me. There had to be more to this. Maybe it was just a coincidence.
“Erik said there’d been reconstructive surgery involved.” I stood up. “That must be it. We must look alike because of the surgery.”
“That’s one hell of a coincidence.” He stood up, but slower. As if he might scare me off if he moved too quickly.
Maybe he might. My instinct was to run. To go home and pretend none of this ever happened. Maybe confess to Erik that I’d been weak and tell him the truth about the man in the store. Erik would know how to protect me from all of this.
Cooper took my hand. “Lenore.”
I froze, uncertain what to do. He caused many reactions in me, but with so many revelations or mysteries or whatever they were, I couldn’t think straight.
“Let’s just go to the police,” he said. “They’ll be able to give us the answers.”
There were unspoken words beneath that. Silent words that conveyed in his stance, in the worried gaze of his eyes. Cooper wanted to get me away from Erik. But I couldn’t do that. Being away from him for only a few days left part of me hollow inside. If they took me away from him permanently, what would I do? I’d never survive.
“No,” I shook my head. “I can’t do that to him.”
“Lenore, you could have a family. People who care about you. And a possible attempted murderer after you.”
Too much. It was too much.
“Look, we’ll go back to my house. Check out the basement. See what’s in there.”
If I left without appeasing him, he might call the cops.
The idea of cops swarming my home, questioning me about Erik, it all made me sick. No way could I let them do that. I’d already betrayed Erik so much—and I was about to bring another man into our home.
All of this had been a mistake, but there was no turning back now. I had to give Cooper something to throw him off the scent.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Please.” I squeezed his hand. I poured every ounce of desperation into it. Every bit of need.
My heart ached with agonizing pain. If Cooper called the cops, Erik would find out, and I could lose him.
A soft breath escaped his lips, and he rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand. “All right. All right. I’ll go with you.”
“Thank you.” My throat tightened, holding back the multitude of emotions trying to get out.
“But.” He held up a finger, pausing until he was sure my attention was on him.
“But?”
“If we find something that’s dangerous, something that tells us Erik kidnapped you or something unsafe is going on, then we involve the police.”
That emotion threatened to push up. I swallowed, and it felt like swallowing a physical thing that scratched and clawed the entire way down. “Agreed.”
7
I stepped over the threshold. The house seemed so quiet without Erik. A shiver ran down my spine as Cooper walked in behind me. Nothing screamed dangerous about Cooper, and I doubted he’d hurt me. A man who wanted to hurt you didn’t offer to call the cops when he thought you were in danger from someone else. At least, I didn’t think they did. But what real sort of experience did I have in something like this?
If I was Alessandra Carter, maybe more than I thought.
“The basement is this way.” I gestured and started walking. “It’s locked, but I know where Erik keeps a spare key.”
My flip phone still sat on the side table. Nothing flashed, so I hadn’t missed a call. Erik’s plane shouldn’t land for a few more hours. It gave me enough time to get Cooper into the basement, prove to him that nothing nefarious was taking place, and get him out of the house.
Before I betrayed Erik more than I already had.
A pain seared through my chest again and this time, I cried out, leaning against the wall near the kitchen.
Cooper caught my arm and frowned. “Hey, are you okay?”
Truthfully, I didn’t know, but instead of saying that, I just nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay. Let’s just get this over with.”
He released me, and I missed his comforting touch. It felt good, despite the pain in my chest. Something to distract me. To keep me focused.
The master bedroom sat at the end of the hall, not far away, but it seemed like an eternal walk.
“Is the basement always locked?” Cooper asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, usually. “
We walked past it. I’d tested the knob many times, either when Erik hadn’t been home or when he’d been asleep. But something always kept me from sneaking in. I’d seen Erik hide the spare key in the conch shell that sat on our dresser. He hadn’t known I was out of the shower, still letting the water run.
Maybe Erik wasn’t the problem. He had a wife who spied and snuck around to find information—and now had another man in our house.
Maybe in the past, I’d been a horrible person, and that’s why Erik didn’t want me to find out more about the past.
But when I asked Erik why he kept me out, he said it was because he had sensitive files he didn’t w
ant me to see. Considering he was a forensic medical examiner, I understood that, but I hoped he’d trust me more.
Then again, maybe there was something else down there besides just files. Maybe the answers I desperately sought were down there too.
I hesitated by the master bedroom, feeling lost in my home.
How stupid was that? Even if I only remembered it for the last six months, I knew every inch. How the cabinet next to the sink creaked when it opened. And the way a draft came under the spare bathroom door. The third floor board just before the bedroom moaned if you stepped on the right side of it.
This house belonged to me.
Or it had. Until just a little while ago, when it never even occurred to me that Erik might not be the man I thought he was. Maybe it belonged to him. I didn’t have a job or make any money. I took care of Erik. Cooked his food, did the laundry, cleaned the house. Fear slithered down my spine. Genuine fear that Cooper’s claim of something more sinister happening could be true.
“Hey.” Cooper gripped my elbow. “Breathe.”
I let out a breath and went dizzy. At some point I stopped breathing, holding the air in my lungs until it burned. The world tilted, and if not for Cooper’s arm, the floor would have made a new sound from my body smacking into it.
“Come on.” Cooper guided me back to the living room and sat me in the chair.
The same overstuffed cream chair that I’d sat in more times than I could remember. I’d swing my feet over the side, engrossed deep in a book. Erik would come by and kiss my neck, or bring me a nightcap. The comfortable, cozy chair that had always been my favorite spot. But it didn’t bring comfort now. Just a place to sit as Cooper gazed worriedly into my own eyes.
“You’re okay,” he said. “Slow, steady breaths.”
He took my hands in his, turning them up and rubbing my palms with his thumbs. The gentle motion comforted me, and my breathing evened out. His warm touch made my skin tingle and pushed away the fear. I couldn’t explain how or why, but something about Cooper just made me feel safe.
Our faces were inexplicably close. I could smell the coffee on his breath. See the slight dip in the bridge of his nose, as if maybe it had been broken a long time ago. He paused. His gaze darkened with need.
I wanted to satisfy whatever need he had. Blood rushed through my veins, and I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears. Cooper pulled back and stood. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.
“Uh. The key. Where?”
“If he left the spare key,” I said. “It would be in the conch shell on the dresser in our bedroom.”
He smiled as if nothing happened, and the dimple popped out. “Great. Let’s go see if it’s there.”
I nodded, letting out a heavy breath. Taking my hands again, he pulled me up. My knees felt weak, but I no longer knew if it was from fear, or from the feeling of having Cooper close to me. When the feeling of guilt returned, I reminded myself that Erik was keeping something from me.
Still, I couldn’t imagine it being something as sinister as what Cooper theorized. But what if there was something else? What if Erik didn’t want me in the basement because he was seeing another woman? Maybe that's where he'd call her, or talk to her on the computer.
No.
It was an insane thought. Erik wouldn’t cheat on me.
Except more than once I’d caught him staring at me. Sometimes in awe, sometimes as if he didn’t know me. When I’d asked about it, he always would say, “You’ve just changed since the accident. That’s all.”
Had I changed so much that he’d sought love in the arms of another woman? A stupid thought. Just my inner guilt trying to justify the fact that we were about to break into the basement and invade Erik’s privacy.
I walked to the bedroom and opened the door. Nothing glamorous, just a queen bed with navy sheets and a light blue comforter. Matching light wood furniture and lace drapes over the window. My side table had lotion and magazines, while Erik’s had books on science. When I’d ask him about the things he read, he’d usually just brush it off, saying he didn’t want to bore me.
But the thing was, it didn’t bore me. Science and intellectual conversations excited me. But Erik wouldn’t have it. We could talk about fiction books and gardens and cooking. But never anything that involved finding out too much about science or other heavy subjects.
Funny, I never thought to question him.
Just like you didn’t question him about the basement.
The dresser had old scratches and lighter patches of wood from long wear and tear. Erik said we got it secondhand at a thrift shop. He planned on smoothing it out and staining it once we finished the gazebo. I always impeccably cleaned the long, broad mirror, hating the sight of smudges. Now though, I wished for them, so they would blemish my reflection. Between the fear and the guilt, I didn’t want to look at myself.
The conch shell sat on my side, next to a picture of me and Erik. He had his arms wrapped around me from behind, our cheeks pressed together, and a cheesy smile on both our faces as I cuddled against him.
Cooper must have noticed my hesitancy. He reached in front of me, blocking the picture, and grabbed the conch shell. It was large, and pink with tinges of white. The kind of shell you’re supposed to be able to hear the ocean in, no matter where you are. Only instead of the ocean, there was the distinct sound of something tapping as he shook it.
He tilted the conch shell and a set of keys rushed out into hand. “These?”
I nodded. “That’s every spare key we have for the house.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “All right. Let’s have a look.”
“Doesn’t this feel wrong to you?” Stepping back, I sat on the bed. “I’m a married woman with a strange man in my house.”
Cooper walked over and sat next to me. “This has got to be extremely hard, and scary, and confusing, and probably a lot of other emotions all rolled up into it.”
“Putting it mildly,” I said with a half-hearted laugh.
He smirked and ran fingers through his hair. “Yeah. I imagine it is. But we’ve come this far. Don’t you want to know the truth?”
“What if we’re wrong? What if Erik is keeping the past from me to keep me safe?”
“As a psychiatrist, I can promise you that if that is the case, he’s going about it all wrong. It’s not healthy to do that to a person.” He crossed his arms over his chests. “And it sets off all my warning bells.”
“But what if he’s got good intentions?”
“Then he needs someone to show him the right way to help you.” He let out a sigh. “Let’s say you’re right. And he’s trying to protect you from the past. It’s not his past to protect you from. You have a right to know who you are and where you came from.”
I frowned. What he said was true. It’s not like I hadn’t asked before, but all the times of begging and pleading with Erik's, even just to find out about daffodils. It was tiresome.
“Don’t you want to know?” Cooper dipped his head a bit to catch my gaze.
His elbow brushed mine. Without even thinking about it, I leaned against him. I just needed some comfort. Something to keep me grounded in the here and now.
Cooper hesitated and then put his arm around me. Warmth drifted from him, and I wished I could cocoon myself. He kept me close, slightly rocking, as if that would make things better.
Funny thing. It did.
Just like Erik’s touch did.
I pulled away and sniffled. “Sorry. I shouldn’t—”
“It’s okay.” He smiled. The right side of his lip hung slightly lower than his left.
An adorably crooked smile that made my heart skip a beat.
“Sometimes we all need a hug.”
The only hug I’d ever had before came from Erik’s arms. They weren’t as thick as Coopers. Not as much muscle, though Erik was fit. Just in a more slender way. Cooper had the physique of a man who frequented the gym, or was secretly some sort of covert
agent doing things on the side.
I doubted it, but it was nice to imagine. Something more than a mundane life, which until a few days ago, I thought was something I lived.
Letting out a slow breath, I nodded and moved from the warmth of his embrace. Cool air brushed my skin, and I missed his touch already.
Swallowing the thick ball of emotion in my throat, I walked out of the room. Cooper followed, the keys jangling in his hand.
We walked back to the basement door. Cooper went through the keys, one by one. The fourth slid into place. My chest tightened, and I balled my hands into fists. He glanced over at me over his shoulder and then turned the key. An audible click sounded, almost loud in the quiet hallway.
“You ready?” Cooper asked.
No.
“Yes.” I squared my shoulders. “Let’s see what’s down there.”
8
Cooper opened the door and flipped the switch at the top of the stairs. Bright ceiling lights radiated through the room.
In books and movies, the basement stairs always creaked from rotted wood, and spiderwebs hung in the corners. Cold slab made up the concrete floors and a dim light would hang overhead. But not in my basement—well, in Erik’s basement, I should say, because this room didn’t belong to the comfort of the house upstairs. And maybe it didn’t belong in a horror movie, but maybe it could definitely be a scene from a mad scientist flick.
We walked down the concrete steps, my hand gripping the steel rail. The hum of electric machines I couldn’t even describe whispered through the room. So many steel things and cabinets. A desk with a computer. A table in the middle of it. Metal and cold, just like the railing under my hand.
“What is this?” I asked.
Cooper reached the bottom and spun in a slow circle. His lips pulled down into a frown and he shook his head. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t seem like anything good.”
“It’s just his work,” I said.
Wicked Love Page 63
