Garden of Secrets

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Garden of Secrets Page 12

by Barbara Freethy


  “My mother had nothing to do with the robbery. And I doubt Peter Lawson did, either. Has Theresa said anything?”

  “She has no memory of what happened.”

  “Well, at least she didn’t say I robbed her.”

  “Not yet, anyway.”

  She sighed. “I’ve gotta say, Jason, that since you’ve become a detective, you’re a little on the gloomy side.”

  “I’m worried,” he admitted. “We don’t have much to go on, and what we do have keeps leading back to you. The chief is under a lot of pressure to solve this case. His job could be on the line.” Jason paused, looking into her eyes. “And he likes you.”

  She wasn’t quite sure how to take the concern in his eyes. “Is that a problem?”

  “It might be if he tries to protect you.”

  “Joe is incredibly honest and ethical. You don’t have to worry about that.” The doubtful expression on Jason’s face disturbed her. “What aren’t you saying?”

  “You were jogging by Sandstone Manor this morning. I canvassed the neighborhood to see if anyone was in the area. A local gardner told me he saw a blond jogger talking to the chief of police.”

  “Joe stopped me and asked me where I’d been.”

  “Which was where?”

  “On the road, Jason. I didn’t go on the mayor’s property.”

  “Why did you run in that direction?”

  “It’s one of my routes when I want to work the hills. I’ve run it many, many times before. I told Joe that. I don’t see the problem.”

  “The chief didn’t tell me he saw you, and he should have.”

  She was surprised that Joe would have kept their meeting to himself. “I’m sure he just hasn’t had a chance.”

  “He’s had a chance, Charlotte.”

  “Joe knows I’m innocent, Jason. I thought you knew that, too.”

  “I want to be able to prove it. And right now, I can’t.”

  “It’s supposed to be innocent until proven guilty, not the other way around.”

  “Yeah, it’s supposed to be. But if you’re smart, Charlotte, you’ll stay the hell away from anything or anyone connected to the Monroes or that house until we solve this case.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  Charlotte’s promise didn’t last more than a few hours. But it wasn’t her fault, she told herself as she watched Pamela walk into the church auditorium and take a seat. How was she to know that Pamela would show up at a church meeting? She’d never set foot inside the church as a teenager. She certainly hadn’t been in any of the youth groups. And in her short, clingy blue dress and spike-heeled boots, she looked even more out of place. Not that she seemed to care. As their gazes met, Pamela gave her a sly smile.

  Charlotte focused her attention on the front of the room. Andrew sat next to a podium where her mother was leading the meeting. He gave her a subtle shrug, as if to say he had nothing to do with Pamela’s arrival. Unfortunately, that didn’t make Pamela’s presence any easier to take. She fidgeted in her seat, trying to listen to her mother, but all she could think about was why Pamela had come. What was she up to now? She should be at the hospital with her sister, and if her sister didn’t need her, then she should be heading back to wherever she came from.

  “Don’t let her get to you,” Kara whispered.

  It was good advice, and she tried to take it, but two minutes later, her nerves were drawn so tight she thought she was going to snap. “I have to get out of here.”

  “That’s what Pamela wants.”

  “I don’t care. I need fresh air.” She paused. “But I also need a distraction. Stand up and ask my mother a question.”

  “No way. Your mother doesn’t like to be interrupted. And where are you going to go, anyway? We’re breaking up into small groups at the end of this, and you’re one of the leaders.”

  “I’ll be back. Please, Kara.”

  “Fine, but next time I need a babysitter, you’re it.”

  “No problem.”

  Kara waited for a pause and then stood up, blocking Charlotte from her mother’s view. As Kara asked some vague question about logistics, Charlotte slipped down the aisle and through the side door. She moved quickly down the hall, taking a grateful breath of air when she hit the church steps.

  More relaxed now, she walked through the church grounds, enjoying the quiet, cold night. When she’d been growing up in the house next door, the church grounds had always been an extension of her backyard, with trees to climb, gardens to explore, and a bell tower perfect for dreaming.

  Turning abruptly, she ducked under some low-hanging tree branches and moved quickly toward the side of the church. The heavy door swung open with a groan, and she made her way up the narrow, winding spiral staircase to the tower. The bell was long gone, but the wide, open windows offered dazzling views from every angle.

  There wasn’t much to see in the dark. The ocean was just beyond the rim of trees, and she could hear the sound of waves breaking on the rocks. While the surrounding grounds were in shadows, the night sky was clear and sparkling with stars. She took a long, deep breath and told herself that everything would work out—the same speech she’d given herself here numerous times before.

  This bell tower, this night sky, had seen her through some hard times—childhood conflicts, then more serious issues: Andrew’s cheating, her own sexual misadventures, pregnancy, and her miscarriage. In this quiet oasis, she had cried buckets of tears and let out emotions that no one else would ever see. During most of those times of crisis, she’d reassured herself that life would get better when she left Angel’s Bay. And in some ways, it had. College, medical school, and residency had driven Angel’s Bay from her mind. She’d been too busy to think about her hometown, too driven to succeed and make something of herself, to consider that the community she’d taken for granted wouldn’t stay exactly the same.

  But it had changed, just as she had. Her father was dead. Her family home was gone. Her brother was overseas. Her sister was hours away. Even her mother was moving on, dating another man. And she was in limbo. Caught between two lives, afraid to choose the next path to take.

  Resting her arms on the window opening with a sigh, she tried to quiet her mind, to stay in the moment, let the past rest and the future be determined. A flash of wispy white caught her eye. There was someone moving in the dark shadows, slipping in and out of the trees. A woman, maybe a girl, her hair a white blond. It flowed out behind her as she ran, and her billowy dress scraped the ground in a swirl of fabric.

  A distant memory plucked at her brain. She’d followed that girl once before, when she’d been eleven or twelve years old. They’d climbed onto the rough branches of an old tree that looked down over the church garden where a wedding reception was being held.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as the girl scrambled higher.

  “Looking for the bride. I love weddings. Everyone is in love. I wish I could get married.”

  “You’re too young to get married.”

  “And I’ll never get old. I had a boyfriend. His name was Christopher. He gave me my first kiss, right before we sailed away.”

  “Why are you wearing that old dress?” Charlotte asked with a frown, distracted from the girl’s story by her odd clothing.

  “It’s all I have.” The girl smiled at her. “I know who you are. You’re Charlie. The one who always gets into trouble.”

  She frowned. “Not always.”

  “You’re in trouble now. You’re supposed to be serving punch.”

  That was true. But she’d gotten bored and had snuck away when her mother wasn’t looking. “How do you know my name?”

  “I know everyone’s name.”

  “What’s yours?”

  “Mary Katherine. I used to get in trouble, too. My father would get so angry with me. He didn’t like me spying on him. He was afraid I’d get him in trouble. But instead, he got himself in trouble.” The girl stopped abruptly. “You should go back. Someone is com
ing. Don’t tell anyone you saw me; they’ll never believe you. You’ll just get into more trouble for making up stories.”

  “How do you know I get into trouble for telling stories?”

  “I heard you in the garden. You were talking to the flowers.”

  “You were there?” she asked in astonishment.

  “I’m everywhere, but not everyone can see me. They have to believe.”

  Charlotte wanted to talk to her some more, but her sister Doreen was calling her name. “Coming!” she yelled.

  When she glanced back at Mary Katherine to say good-bye, the girl was gone.

  Charlotte shivered as she stared out into the darkness, wondering where that old memory had come from. Mary Katherine was an imaginary friend she’d made up to escape the boring hours she had to spend at the church. She wasn’t real. Although they had had some interesting conversations—

  Another flash of blond hair in the moonlight made her heart race. She could almost see a face in the shadows with a laughing yet sad smile, almost hear the words whispering on the wind, “It’s me, Charlie. I missed you. I didn’t think you’d ever come back.”

  Charlotte shook her head. There was no one out there, just shadows from the trees and old memories. The stress of the last few days was getting to her, that’s all.

  A sudden clattering of footsteps made her jump. Then a man came up the stairs.

  “Joe,” she said with relief, putting a hand to her pounding heart. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry,” he said with an apologetic smile.

  He was still wearing his dark gray suit, but his tie hung loosely about his neck as if he’d been tugging at it most of the day.

  “What are you doing up here?” she asked, her heart beating faster for another reason. Joe had a way of getting her pulse pounding without even trying.

  “Looking for you. I stopped in at the auditorium. The meeting was still going on, but Kara said you’d taken a walk to clear your head. I remembered you telling me this was one of your favorite places when you brought me up here a few months ago, and I thought I’d check it out.”

  “Has something else happened? I’ve been right here, trying to stay out of trouble and away from Pamela, as instructed.”

  “Nothing has happened. And I appreciate your efforts regarding Pamela,” he said with a dry smile. “I saw her in the church. That was a surprise.”

  “I’ll say. She was never religious when I knew her. She had to have another reason for coming.”

  “Andrew?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. So why did you come looking for me?”

  “I wanted to see you. I didn’t like the way we left things this morning—or last night, for that matter,” he added.

  “You said earlier today that you didn’t want to talk about last night,” she reminded him.

  “Maybe I changed my mind.”

  His hesitant tone did not match his words. “We should leave it alone, Joe.”

  “Leaving you alone doesn’t seem to work for me.”

  She caught her breath at the intense look in his eyes. It would be so easy to kiss him, to throw herself into his arms and escape her life for a little while. But she didn’t want to use him for an escape. And she didn’t want to begin something she wasn’t sure she could finish.

  “There’s too much going on in my life right now,” she said. “I feel like I’m on a runaway train and have no idea how to get off.”

  “You’re not on it alone. I’m here for you.”

  “How can you be? You’re the chief of police, and I’m a suspect. That puts us on opposite sides.”

  His jaw tightened. “Not for long. We’ll break this case. We just need a little time.”

  “I hope you’re right, but until then, we should keep our distance.”

  “That’s not a good idea.”

  “Isn’t it?” she challenged. “Jason told me that we were seen talking by the highway this morning. You didn’t tell him that I was there, and he was concerned about that.”

  Joe’s lips drew into a frown. “He shouldn’t be giving you that kind of information.”

  “We’re friends. And while you’re Jason’s boss, he’s your friend, too. He’s worried about both of us.”

  “He has a job to do. That’s all he should be thinking about.”

  “It’s not that simple. And I don’t want either of you to end up in this mess along with me.”

  “That won’t happen.”

  “I’d like to believe that, but every time I turn around, another shoe drops. Now you’re looking into Peter Lawson, my mother’s boyfriend? Is my mother going to be next in line to be questioned?”

  “God, I hope not!” His emphatic words broke the tension between them. “The last person I want to bring down to the station is your mother.”

  “Wise man.”

  He gave her a small smile. “Let’s table this for the moment.”

  “And do what?”

  “Take a breath. Isn’t that why you came up here to your hideaway in the sky?”

  “Yes.”

  He moved closer, his hands sliding around her waist. “Lean on me, Charlotte. Let the stress go.”

  His tempting words were impossible to resist. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her cheek against his broad chest. Her head came to just under his chin, and as he tightened his embrace, she felt safe and secure for the first time in a long while.

  She’d been standing on her own for so many years, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d leaned on someone. Closing her eyes, she did exactly as he’d suggested and let herself just breathe. The quiet night surrounded them like a warm blanket, and in Joe’s arms, there was no uncertainty, no worry that she’d lose her balance or her way. Because she wasn’t trying to get somewhere—she was exactly where she wanted to be.

  If only she could capture this moment and keep it forever . . . but nothing lasted forever. And in her experience, when something was too good, bad usually followed.

  “You’re tensing,” he murmured.

  “No, I’m better, thanks,” she said, forcing herself to pull away from him.

  A chill ran through her as their bodies separated, but she was grateful for the cold. It woke her up to reality. She couldn’t afford to lose herself in another fantasy. Being with Joe was fraught with too many complications, no matter how good he looked and smelled and tasted.

  Clearing her throat, she turned her attention to the view.

  He leaned against the wall next to her. “How long are you planning to hide out up here?” he asked.

  “Until the meeting is over.”

  “It didn’t look like that would be anytime soon.” He folded his arms. “What do you think about when you come up here?”

  She shrugged. “Whatever is on my mind. When I was younger, I spent a lot of time plotting my escape from Angel’s Bay.”

  “You never brought any friends up here with you?”

  “Oh, no. This was my place, and mine alone.”

  He nodded. “Because this is where you hide from everyone else but not from yourself.”

  His words touched her to the core. “That’s very perceptive.”

  “Are you surprised?”

  “Not really. You’re good at reading between the lines. But it’s a little disconcerting. Most men I’ve dated have been pretty clueless about what I was thinking or feeling.”

  “They believed whatever you told them.”

  “Because I told them what they wanted to hear,” she agreed.

  “Not big on conflict, are you?”

  “Conflict means someone wins and someone loses. No conflict, and everyone is even.”

  “See, this is where you confuse me,” he said.

  “Why?” she asked, surprised.

  “Because you’re always in the middle of some conflict. You jump into trouble to help people. You risk your life to make good things happen. You’re not a coward.”

  “When it comes to relationships
, I am.”

  “Because of Andrew? Or was there someone else who broke your heart?”

  He was veering into dangerous territory, and she changed the subject. “Did you have a place you used to go to as a hideaway?”

  He sighed. “Nice deflection.”

  “Did you?”

  “No. Our house was crowded, and there was no privacy. We lived in the city, so there was no open land to wander. My escape was on my skateboard or my bike and later in the Mustang. That’s where I found freedom—where I could fly out of my life and into the world of the impossible. There’s nothing like a steep hill, the wind at your back, and a lot of speed.”

  “You were never afraid?”

  “When you’re young, you don’t think anything bad can happen to you. I’m sure you did some crazy things, too.”

  “Not really. I was a science geek.”

  He laughed. “I can’t imagine you as a geek of any sort.”

  “Oh, I was. In eighth-grade biology, I was the first in line to dissect the frog. It was my first surgery,” she said with a smile. “But the frog was dead. When I got to medical school, I couldn’t wait to work on a real person.”

  “Operating on someone is a lot of pressure.”

  “So is being a police officer, running into a dangerous situation when everyone else is running out. I can’t imagine that.”

  “But Charlotte, that’s exactly what you do.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t.”

  “Remember Annie’s father? You jumped out of the car when he turned a gun on me.”

  “That was just instinct.”

  “Exactly. Your instinct is to help, no matter what it costs you. I get paid for doing what I do. You’re much more altruistic.”

  “And you’re giving me way too much credit for not thinking before I act.”

  He smiled and moved closer. “I like it when you don’t think.”

  “You’re the only one.”

  “Good. I want to be the only one. What are your instincts telling you to do now, Charlotte?”

  “I have some very risky ideas going through my head right now.”

  “Are you going to act on them?”

  Her senses tingled as his warm breath touched her cheek. “Yes,” she said, putting a hand behind his head and pulling him down for a kiss. His mouth was warm, inviting, intoxicating.

 

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