by Dana Marton
Her golden hair was spread out on the pillow. Lines formed between her eyebrows, and her lips were pursed. She was frowning in her sleep. He leaned over to pull the cover higher on her shoulder.
Jess was back home, back next door again.
The thought was still a surprise, every time he saw her. Like when he’d been ten and he’d wanted a laptop for Christmas so much, he didn’t dare to ask for it. And then he went downstairs in the morning, and his brand-new laptop was waiting under the tree, courtesy of his grandparents. Every time Derek looked at Jess, he felt exuberant joy mixed with disbelief. Like he should pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
He wasn’t. Jess was the one asleep.
He reached out to smooth the lines on her forehead, but dropped his hand halfway there. He didn’t want to wake her. Instead, he padded into the kitchen, pulled the lasagna from the fridge, and cut a slice for himself.
He reheated the food in the oven so the humming and beeping of the microwave wouldn’t wake Jess. She woke anyway, just as he was quietly rinsing his plate. He heard her footsteps, but didn’t turn.
“How long have you been here?” she asked from the doorway.
He did glance at her then, over his shoulder. “Fifteen minutes?”
She was frowning even harder than when she’d been sleeping. Her bad mood definitely had to do with him. But before he could ask, gravel crunched in the driveway. Multiple arriving vehicles. Then a knock on the door.
She went to answer.
“Miss Taylor! How do you feel about Dark Woods, Derek Daley’s latest novel? Were you the inspiration for the heroine?”
And, at the same time, a different voice: “Did the two of you discuss the telling of your story?”
Derek flew from the kitchen, his hands sudsy and dripping. He swore at the sight of two reporters, a cameraman, and a photographer. All trying to push in.
Jess stood frozen before them, her shirt wrinkled, her hair mussed from sleep—not exactly ready for the invasion. She was probably still half-asleep. And she shouldn’t have to wake up to this.
In a couple of leaps Derek was there. “No comment.” He slammed the door in their faces.
The gutted look Jess shot him nearly felled him. She didn’t ask what book, what story. She knew. Shit. This was why she’d been acting strange.
“Jess—”
“Why?” she asked in a ragged tone. “Why did you write that book? And don’t tell me it’s not about us.”
Seeing her pain, and knowing he was the cause, tore him up. He leaned his back against the door. He didn’t think she read his books. He’d hoped she wouldn’t read this one if he didn’t bring any attention to the release. In hindsight, he’d been an idiot. He should have told her and prepared her.
Her stormy gaze pinned him. “You thought I wouldn’t find out?”
He flinched. “Stupid, huh?”
“So you were just never going to tell me?” She was gathering steam.
He let his head drop back against the door, and ignored the knocking. “Honestly? I would have. Eventually. But then Eliot came; then Chuck went into the hospital. I kept getting distracted.”
“You make time for something like this.” Her eyes glinted with fury. “You shouldn’t have written the book in the first place. All of that is private. Ever thought that I might not want to become a public spectacle again? Because once was enough. In case it wasn’t clear.”
His gut churned from the obvious pain in her voice, in her stance. “I’m sorry, Jess. When I wrote the book, I had no idea you’d be back.”
She raised her eyebrows halfway up her forehead. “And if I wasn’t here, it would be OK?”
When she put it like that . . . He stepped toward her. “Jess.”
She stepped back. Every inch of progress, every bit of softening toward him, was erased. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me.”
“I can explain—”
“No.” She held out her hands, palms out, warding him off. “Please leave. Get out.”
“Jess.”
“Now.”
He glanced toward the door with trepidation. “The press is out there.”
Not that Derek was scared of them. He was more afraid that they’d push him and he’d push back too hard. He was in no mood to be messed with. The damn book wasn’t worth losing Jess over. Nothing was.
“You made your bed, you lie in it.” Jess folded her arms and turned her back to him, marching away, calling one last word over her shoulder. “Leave.”
He rubbed a hand over his face and swore under his breath. Then he strode to the door. “Lock up behind me.”
As soon as he stepped outside, two microphones were shoved into his face, the camera rolling.
“Are you and Miss Taylor back together? Are you seeing each other? Did she cowrite the book? Will there be a movie? Will she do the stunts?”
Derek wanted to shout at them to get the hell out of there. Instead, he moved forward, hoping to draw the jackals with him. The least he could do was draw them away from Jess.
He pushed back his grumpy SEAL persona and pulled out the bestselling-author mask. He might even have smiled. “Why don’t you come on over to my place, have a cup of coffee with me, and we can talk about the book if you’d like.”
His editor would be happy with the extra publicity, good or bad. As long as he was in the news and on TV, and his book was being mentioned, the publisher would be pleased.
And who knew who else might catch the story.
Jess was mad as hell at him. He couldn’t do anything about that at the moment. The book was out; he couldn’t call it back. But Dark Woods wasn’t just a book. The story had purpose beyond entertaining his readers. And Derek needed to promote that purpose.
Chapter Sixteen
AS JESS WALKED to her car to pick up Kaylee from school, Mark Maxwell ambushed her, jumping out from behind a pickup that belonged to one of the workers.
“What do you say to people who think that this is another bid for attention on your part?” the reporter demanded, filming Jess with his cell phone.
She faced him, because she didn’t want to get into the habit of running from him. She didn’t want to give him that kind of power. “I didn’t write the book.”
“Do you expect people to believe that you and Derek didn’t collaborate?”
“Yes.”
“This is not the first time you dragged your kidnapping back into the limelight. Is this going to be a regular thing?”
“Print that and I’ll sue you.”
“Can’t be a coincidence that you returned home at the same time as the book release, can it? Are you hoping that the publicity will snag you a movie deal? Your Hollywood connections will come in handy, right? Is that your deal with Derek Daley?”
Jess looked straight into the phone’s camera. “To hell with Derek Daley. To hell with Dark Woods. The stupid book is nothing but a publicity stunt by the author.”
Maxwell held his breath, as if praying for more.
Jess gave it to him. “Dark Woods is a pitiful attempt at book sales. It’s on the author. The retelling is as weak as the original event, in the hands of an author as incompetent as the kidnapper.”
“So you’re saying the kidnapper botched the job?”
“I got away, didn’t I? That must burn. In the end, the coward is still hiding, but I am thriving. In the end, his fifteen minutes of fame fizzled out in a lame little story.”
She lifted her chin and sneered straight into the camera. Then she shoved into her car and drove away. Maxwell was smart enough to jump out of her path.
Jess’s hands trembled on the steering wheel all the way to the high school, but she didn’t care. She’d had her say.
She settled herself down by the time she reached the school. She didn’t want to dump any negative emotions on Kaylee. Jess and Derek’s mess was the last thing the girl needed.
“Any news from Abuelito?” Kaylee asked as soon as she slipped into t
he passenger seat.
“Last time Zelda texted, he was awake and in good spirits.”
“She texted that to me too. Nothing since?”
“Nothing.” Jess sighed. “There’s press at the house.”
That earned her a double take. “About Grandpa?”
“Derek’s book came out yesterday.” As Jess drove, she worked on figuring out how she should say what she wanted to say.
“You know how I was kidnapped a long time ago?” she asked finally.
Kaylee’s gaze was uncertain. “I don’t remember a lot, but I remember the police coming to the house.”
“Derek’s new book is kind of about that.” The words left a bitter aftertaste that coated her tongue. She felt dirty for saying them, for thinking about how he’d sold her out, sold her pain for money and fame.
Kaylee chewed her bottom lip. “Did you know?”
“No.”
“He should have totally asked you.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you mad at him?”
“Is maple syrup sweet?”
A fleeting smile crossed Kaylee’s face, but her expression morphed into conflicted a second later. Divided loyalties. On the one hand, Derek was like a big brother to the girl. On the other hand, Jess’s family had always been Kaylee’s family. Kaylee wasn’t sure which one of them to back, what to say. Like a child of suddenly divorced parents.
The kid didn’t need the stress, not with her grandfather in the hospital.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jess said. “I’ll probably forgive him eventually. But for now, he’s in the doghouse big-time. He’s in the basement under the doghouse. Like buried under the basement.”
Kaylee nodded. “The man has a lot of groveling before him.”
“You are wise beyond your years, my friend.” Then Jess shoved the topic of Derek away. Kaylee needed her attention. “How is school?”
“Lame as always. I can’t believe Abuelito has a heart attack and I can’t even skip a couple of days.”
“He’s strict like that.”
“He’s strict in every way.” Kaylee rolled her eyes. “Because both Mom and Dad died, Abuelito thinks he has to watch me for two.”
“I remember you used to call him Abuelito, when you were little.” Jess smiled.
“I still do, when I’m upset.”
“He loves you more than life itself.”
“Couldn’t he love me without all the rules? He’s like a warden.”
“I’m sure it seems like that at seventeen.”
“Nothing seems about it. I have a ten p.m. curfew. Who even has a curfew senior year?”
“I did.”
“He has rules about me taking the car. Rules about boys.” Kaylee gave a dramatic sigh. “Grandparents are supposed to spoil their grandkids.”
She fell silent as she looked out the passenger-side window. “I just want him to come home. I swear, if he comes home, I’m never going to complain about any stupid rule again.”
“He’ll come home.”
“You can’t know that.”
Grim silence filled the car for a couple of seconds.
Time for another subject change.
“If you run into reporters and they ask anything about Derek or me,” Jess said, “could you just please tell them, ‘No comment’?”
Kaylee turned back toward her. “Of course. Yeah. Sure.” Then, “God, this is so weird.”
“Do you need to go home before we go to Burlington?”
“No. Let’s go straight to the hospital.”
When they got there, Jess called Zelda out to the hallway to give her a heads-up about the press attack. Chuck was doing well, but Jess didn’t want to stress him out with her problems. She offered to drive Zelda home, then come back to sit with Kaylee and Chuck through the afternoon, but Zelda declined.
“Thank you. I do appreciate all the help. But I’d rather stay. What do I have at home that’s more important than him?”
So all three of them hung out in Chuck’s room, with the nurse’s approval.
Kaylee brought them up to date on school gossip. Who was seeing whom, who was cheating on whom, who smoked pot, who got drunk over the weekend. Jess felt like she was listening to a soap opera.
“You’re not to hang out with any of those kids,” Chuck ordered.
“Abuelito. Seriously.” Kaylee gave an offended groan. “I’m a geek. I hang out with the geeks. When have I ever gotten into trouble?”
She had her grandfather stumped with that.
The nurse came in for a quick checkup. Afterward, Jess entertained them all with some Hollywood anecdotes. Kaylee ate that up. Chuck was markedly happier, hopped up on a fresh dose of painkillers. Zelda dozed in the chair now and then. All the excitement of the past two days had worn her out.
“And Derek?” Chuck asked much later in between bites of green Jell-O that Kaylee insisted on spoon-feeding him.
“Holding down the fort at the sugar shack.”
Chuck nodded his appreciation. “He’s a good neighbor. A good man.”
He wasn’t Jess’s favorite person at the moment, but she couldn’t argue that he was helpful as a neighbor. When Kaylee cast a nervous glance toward her, she didn’t say anything. She wasn’t going to bring her arguments with Derek into Chuck’s sickroom.
“Any idea when they’ll spring you from this place?” she asked instead, with all the cheer she could muster.
“I was hoping you came to smuggle me out.”
“In what? Zelda’s purse?”
Kaylee giggled.
“Are you implying it’s too small?” Chuck snorted weakly. “She could carry the whole sugar shack in that thing.”
They stayed until after dinner, taking turns popping up to Rose’s room and keeping her company. That was where Jess ran into Derek. He’d brought his mother in to visit.
Jess was in Helen Daley’s arms before she could blink. “Derek’s been telling me that you’re back home. I couldn’t wait to see you. How are you? God, you’re beautiful. My boy can’t stop talking about you every time he comes over. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Jess looked at Derek over Helen’s shoulder.
He stayed silent while Helen drilled Jess on her life in Hollywood, dropping heavy hints that she should stay in Taylorville. Helen was as wiry as she’d ever been. She’d always done a lot of physical work around the farm, even if she was a tiny little thing, barely reaching Derek’s shoulders. Derek had inherited her flint-gray eyes and even temperament. His square jaw and size came from his father.
Because Jess was way too aware of him, she sat with her back to him so he couldn’t distract her any more than he already was.
He didn’t contribute to the conversation, but let the women talk. Close to half an hour passed before he said, “Come on, Mom. Let Jess spend some time with her mother.”
Helen hugged Rose, then Jess again. “We should go see Chuck.”
Derek looked back from the door and captured Jess’s gaze, his expression dark and troubled. “I need to talk to you. I’ll come by the house later.”
Talk about what? He was gone before Jess could ask or protest.
By the time Jess made it downstairs, an hour later, the Daleys were gone. Since it was Friday and no school the next day, Kaylee asked if she could be the one to stay overnight with Chuck.
“Nobody has to stay,” Chuck protested. “What are you gonna do? Watch me sleep?”
Jess understood Kaylee, though. The girl felt helpless. She’d already lost her parents. Chuck was her only living relative left. She had no control over his heart attack or recovery, but she wanted to do something.
So Jess shot a Let her stay look at Chuck. And, after a moment, Chuck nodded.
“Fine. We’ll play cards. I slept so much, I’m not sleepy. But if you cheat, I’m telling the nurses. Believe you me, there are a couple of scary ones you do not want to mess with.”
Kaylee snorted. “In case I haven’t mentioned
it before, high school is a battlefield. Nurses don’t scare me.”
When Zelda and Jess left them, Chuck was demanding to know who was giving Kaylee trouble at school, while Kaylee was explaining that she was talking in generalities about the battlefield of teenage existence.
Zelda stayed quiet on the way home. Her eyes were closed, her hands folded in her lap as she silently prayed.
Traffic was sparse, and it trickled to pretty much nothing by the time they were in the home stretch. Jess slowed when she spotted the police cruiser on the shoulder up ahead. As she pulled closer, she saw a Ford Fiesta pulled over in front of the cruiser. Deputy Muller was leaning to the window giving the third degree to someone. As Jess passed, she could see a teenage girl behind the wheel, scared and crying.
Just as Jess stepped on the brake, a late-model Corolla pulled up behind the cruiser, and a woman in her midforties jumped out, probably the girl’s mother. Jess moved her foot from the brake to the gas pedal.
“I never liked that man,” Zelda said. No matter how upset she was, the woman still didn’t miss a thing.
They weren’t home five minutes when Derek strode in. “All is well in the sugar shack. How is Chuck doing?”
Jess couldn’t kick him out again. He’d worked all day to help her family. Still, she was prepared to shoot him a look that would clearly tell him she was nowhere near forgiving him for the book. Then she caught the grim expression on his face and stopped in her tracks. “What happened?”
Zelda hurried from the kitchen. “Did Kaylee call you from the hospital?”
Jess’s breath caught.
“It’s not Chuck,” Derek hurried to say, but his expression didn’t lighten.
“What is it?”
He looked as if he’d rather swallow his own tongue than say the words, but then said them anyway. “Before I drove my mother to the hospital, I popped over to the police station to ask if they had DNA on the bone fragments yet.”
Everything inside Jess went deadly still. “And?”
“I doubt they would have told me, but the results literally came in while I was standing there, and I caught snatches of conversation in the back office.” He paused for a tension-filled moment. “It’s Hannah Wilson.”
