Deeper Than Need: A Secrets & Shadows Novel

by Shiloh Walker

  He blinked, and just like that he was distracted. “Wow … bones make me climb?”

  “Yep. Without them, you’d just be a pile of goo.” She demonstrated, slumping all over him, listening as he giggled.

  “Get off! You’re squishing me.”

  Laughing, she sat up and kissed his forehead. “See? The bones are what make us able to not squish people. Cool, huh?”

  “I guess.” He squirmed on her lap. “Since they took the bones, does that mean we can go home? I want Mr. Noah to finish fixing the house so we can paint my room.”

  The priorities of a child. Bones gone, let’s paint.

  That was a kid for you.

  “Baby, I think it’s going to be a few days, at least.”

  He heaved out a sigh. “It’s always a few days.” He slid off her lap and took off, his sneakered feet banging on the floor, making as much noise as a herd of elephants.

  Groaning, she dropped her face down into her hands. A day ago, she fell through the floor of her house and found a body hidden under the floorboards.

  Micah was all ready to go back there.

  Go back. She flinched just thinking about it.

  Did they go back?

  Could she?

  That was the bigger question.

  She had to call the cops today, maybe tomorrow—Ali had told Trinity she was welcome to stay until the cops released the house back to her, longer if she needed to, but she had no idea what was supposed to happen. The body had only been found yesterday and so much of the day had passed in a surreal blur—the police had obtained a search warrant; they’d searched the house, her property.

  Her house. This place that was supposed to be her and Micah’s haven. A place where they could start over.

  Her home. Their home.

  There had been a body buried under the floor, from the day she moved in.

  “Longer,” she whispered.

  She had no idea how long that … person … had been buried under the floor of her house, but her gut whispered that body had been down there awhile. A very long while.

  How long had the body been there? Just waiting to be discovered?

  Stop it, Trinity.

  Part of her wanted to grab Micah and take off running. Back to New York, maybe. Or somewhere else. Somewhere different. She could do it. Her dad would give her the money.

  Rising from the bed, she moved to the window and stared out over the small town of Madison. From the window she could just barely make out Main Street, and despite the desire to leave, run hard and fast, the bigger part of her looked at the town and thought, Home.

  She thought of Noah.

  That odd little click.

  No. She couldn’t leave.

  Even aside from the fact that she felt like this was where she belonged, she’d never just run away from a single thing in her life. Even when she’d wanted to run away from the problems in New York—with Micah’s father—she hadn’t. She’d waited until it was finished, until it was done, and then she’d started over. Clean slate.

  Leaving now? That would be running and she just couldn’t do it. She’d handled all the tough shit in New York. She could handle this.

  Sighing, she brushed her hair back from her face and turned away from the window.

  The cops would finish up their job. Whether they found out who had been buried under her home or not, this wouldn’t affect her. This tragedy, however awful it was, wasn’t her tragedy.

  She could go back home. Get on with her life.

  Get on with her plan of getting her life on-track.

  But … since she couldn’t work on the house today, maybe not for a lot of days, it was time to work on the next step. Finding a job. While the money she had in the bank was definitely there to fall back on, she didn’t want to raid it any more than necessary.

  She had a small online business that she did in her spare time and it was doing okay … as in she no longer had to keep sinking her own money into it to keep it going. But okay didn’t do much in the way of buying groceries or clothes or much of anything else just yet.

  So … a job.

  * * *

  “There’s not exactly a surplus of jobs here in Madison,” Ali said, grimacing. “Sometimes we need delivery drivers at our place, but not often.”

  As the other woman slid into a chair across from Trinity, she asked, “What can you do?”

  “I’ve done a little bit of everything,” she said, shrugging. “Worked at a Starbucks in college. Did office work.” She licked her lips, debated saying anything, and then went ahead. “I majored in advertising in college, worked with my dad’s firm for the most part.”

  Shooting Ali another glance, Trinity smiled. “I have some decent computer skills, though. Worked as a receptionist off and on while I was going through school, for the first year or so, although I never really received formal training in that area.”

  “Well, I’m not sure how much advertising-type stuff there is around here. I doubt anybody can pay what you might be used to.” Ali winced a little and shrugged. “Sorry, I’m not trying to be rude. But I’ve seen your car. Your clothes. Your purses, which I kind of want. Really bad. Working for your dad’s firm, well, I don’t think that’s going to be quite the same as working in Madison.”

  “I’m not looking for anything like what I did in New York.” Trinity smiled even though in the back of her head she was thinking, That’s the last thing I want! “I don’t really need to be in advertising.”

  “That opens the field a little, although who knows? Maybe they need that sort of thing over at the paper or something. I hear stuff, working in the pizzeria. I do know there’s sometimes office-type work. Even without formal training, you might be able to get that kind of thing.” Ali chewed on her lip, mulling it over. “As long as you can get the job done and as long as you don’t have a criminal record, that’s all that will matter to most people around here.”

  Trinity smiled, even as her gut twisted. “No criminal record,” she said, keeping her voice light. Of course, once people started poking around they might find all sorts of stuff that Trinity would rather they not know. There wasn’t much to be done about it, though.

  Ali leaned back in her seat, her head cocked. “You know, there is one job that might actually be ideal for you … are you looking for full-time?”

  “I’d rather not have full-time,” Trinity said. “I’d take it if that’s all I could find, but I’ve got work I do on the side and I don’t want it to suffer.”

  “That makes this the perfect job, I think.” Ali grinned and leaned forward.

  “What is it?”

  “Noah.”

  For a second, Trinity just stared at the other woman. Then, even as her heart banged against her ribs, Trinity stood up. “That … might not work.”

  “Oh, come on … you can’t tell me he’d be hard to work for.” A grin split Ali’s face. “They don’t come any more laid-back than Noah Benningfield.”

  “Oh, you’re right. He’s laid-back.” He’s laid-back. He’s gorgeous. He makes my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth. I look at him and I just want to bite him and I’m pretty sure I’m damning myself to the lowest pits of hell for lusting after a preacher. Feeling the hot, slow crawl of a blush staining her cheeks, she turned away under the pretense of gathering up her dishes from breakfast. Not that a saucer and a coffee cup took long. “I just don’t think—”

  Ali started talking, like Trinity hadn’t said a word. “He’s been needing a hand for a while, but nobody seems to work out.… I think half the women in town who apply have this idea they can take the job and get him to propose. The other half can’t do the job for what he can afford to pay. He’s only looking for about twenty hours a week, so…”

  Trinity dumped the dishes in the sink. Part-time. Wonderful. That was pretty much exactly what she needed. She didn’t really need a top-dollar salary, just something that would let her get by without raiding the fund her mother had left for her. Once Trin
ity’s online business was set more secure, she’d be fine.

  But it didn’t matter if the job Noah had might sound ideal. Working for him couldn’t be ideal. She was already borderline fixated on him as it was. Memories of that dream rose up to haunt her. The way he’d twined their hands together, the way he’d stared at her as he moved inside her. And the climax—the climax that had woken her up. All from dreaming about sex with him.

  “I don’t think it would work out. I mean, I’d probably be better off finding something—”

  “You know, he’s got an extra room in his office,” Ali said, cutting her off. “His mom used to do all the paperwork and stuff and Noah practically grew up there, had his own playroom and everything. It’s still there. You could take Micah.”

  Trinity blew out a breath and turned around, arms crossed over her chest. Ali stood there, an unrepentant grin on her pretty face. “You see, it really would be ideal,” she said, rocking back on her heels. “I mean, I can’t think of too many places where you’d be able to take your son with you.”

  “I don’t need to take him with me,” Trinity said sourly. She rubbed the heel of her hand over her chest.

  “No, but I bet you want to. For a while.” Ali cocked her head. “I bet he’s going to want to be with you for a while, too. After what happened.”

  Was she that easy to read?

  Trinity focused on the window, watching the way the sun danced off the river. “Clinging to him isn’t going to make anything any easier on both of us. He needs to get back to preschool. I haven’t even started looking for one since we moved here. But he needs to be around other kids, not where I can watch him twenty-four-seven just so I can remind myself he wasn’t hurt.”

  “It’s not just about that.”

  She shifted her gaze to Ali.

  Ali shrugged restlessly and looked away. “I’m … Look, I’m not trying to pry and you don’t need to feel like you have to tell me anything. But I heard him talking to Joey. Joey isn’t going to say anything, either. I already spoke with him.”

  Trinity had to force the words out. “What are you talking about?”

  Ali’s green eyes swung back around to meet her gaze. “We know about Micah’s dad, Trinity. He told Joey.”

  * * *

  “Is it her?”

  Noah sat by the window in the hard ladder-back chair.

  Jimmy sat in a broken-down, beat-up recliner. Noah had bought the chair at a church yard sale and brought it in for the older man years ago, and although he’d tried to replace it more than once, Jimmy wouldn’t hear of it. He insisted no chair would be quite as comfortable as the broken-down thing he now sat upon.

  Out in the hall, they could hear the muted chaos of the mid-morning. A local day care was there visiting, doing story time, and the sound level was just below ear piercing, Noah decided.

  But with the door closed, he and Jimmy were locked in their own little world.

  A sad one.

  Noah pondered just how to answer that question, hands linked together as he waited for the right words. People had always teased him about how he took his time before he said anything, but he liked to wait. Sometimes he knew exactly what to say, almost right from the get-go. Other times the words just came slowly to him.

  More than a few teased him all that much harder because Noah did believe that when he had the right words those words came from a place outside of him. Pretty much, he believed God gave him the right words. People could mock it as much as they wanted. It didn’t matter to him. He knew what he knew, and he knew what he believed.

  He’d left the ministry behind because it wasn’t the right place for him—he’d been good at it while he was in it, but he’d also done it for the wrong reasons. So he left. That didn’t mean he’d left behind his faith or his ability to find the right words.

  Today, though, and for the past few days, the right words came slower and with a lot of struggle.

  Finally, as moments ticked away and Jimmy waited patiently, Noah leaned back in the chair and finally spoke the truth. “I just don’t know.”

  “Shit.”

  Smiling a little, Noah dragged a hand down his face and nodded. “That sums up the situation pretty well, sir.”

  “Don’t sir me, Noah. You’re not in high school anymore.”

  “Yes, sir.” He kept his face solemn as Jimmy shot him a dark look.

  “Such a smart-ass.” Jimmy shook his head and twisted around to reach for his coffee with his left hand. The right side of his body was all but immobilized, thanks to a series of strokes. His mind, though, was still as sharp as it had been twenty years ago. As was the burning edge of anger that had driven him for so long.

  The grief. He took a drink of the coffee and put it down, leaning back in his chair and staring out the window, eyes far off and distant, ghosts dancing in their depths.

  “How awful is it, Noah, that part of me wants it to be her? Just so I can die knowing?” he murmured. “That must make me an awful father … to wish my daughter dead.”

  Noah didn’t have to search for the right words this time. He leaned forward and covered Jimmy’s gnarled hand with his. “That’s not what you’re doing, Jimmy. You spent almost fifteen years trying to find those answers on your own, even after the police gave up, even after I gave up. What you want is peace … you’re not wishing her dead.” A knot swelled in his throat and his next words came out husky and raw. “You and I both just want answers. That doesn’t make us anything but human.”

  Jimmy closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping him. “They’ll move heaven and earth to find those answers if it’s a Sutter, you know.”

  Something hard and cold shifted in Noah’s gut. He didn’t want to answer that, didn’t want to say anything.

  But he didn’t have to. Jimmy’s lids lifted and the old man pinned Noah with a hard, direct stare. “You know it as well as I do, even if you can’t say … even if you won’t let yourself say it.”

  Noah looked away.

  “They put up a damn memorial for them in front of the First Church of Christ where Pete preached all those years. They held candlelight vigils for them on the anniversary of the day they disappeared and on their birthdays. People still come out for them. But half the town has forgotten about my girl.”

  “We didn’t forget.”

  “No.” Jimmy smiled, a little sad. “And you went and gave her your own memorial.”

  Noah looked down. Jimmy was the only one who knew about the gazebo and why Noah had done it. He’d taken him there, the night he’d finished it; before anybody else in town saw it he’d let Jimmy see it, and he knew why.

  “It’s still not enough.” The old man looked away, but not in time to hide the tears that glinted there. “She deserved better than that. She was…” His voice trailed off and he lapsed into silence.

  “Lana was amazing,” Noah said quietly.

  “Yes.”

  They were quiet, memories from the past wrapping around both of them. Noah could remember that wild, wicked laugh of hers … and the courage.

  Please. Don’t tell, Noah.

  … love you …

  Son, do you have any idea if Lana was going to be out there last night? Somebody said he thought he saw her walking up the road.…

  “She wouldn’t have wanted this for you.”

  Lifting his lashes, he found Jimmy staring at him, his dark eyes watchful and sad. “Sir?”

  “You all but put yourself in the grave when you were a kid,” Jimmy said, shaking his head. “You fixed that, but you never did let yourself come all the way back to life.”

  “I’ve done all right,” Noah said mildly.

  “No.” The censure was soft but there all the same. “You haven’t. You live your life on the sidelines, keeping everything and everybody else apart. Maybe it’s just easier for you, and I guess I can understand that—you can’t get hurt if you don’t let anybody in. But Noah, that’s not life. You deserve more than just a half-life. You’ll grow old
and look back and all you’ll have to remember of your life are these little bits and echoes of times when you almost let yourself live.”

  He held out a hand.

  Noah placed his hand in Jimmy’s and the man squeezed, his grip surprisingly tight and steady. “Stop hiding away, son. Live your life. Have something to look back on, Noah.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Son, is there a reason you’re trying to make my job even harder?”

  Noah wasn’t surprised to hear that voice. Didn’t mean he was happy about it, though.

  Squinting against the bright light shining in around Jeb, Noah studied the man’s stance for a minute and then went back to hauling out materials. “Now, Jeb, why on earth would I want to make your job harder?”

  “I had a call not long ago. Any idea who it was?”

  “I imagine you’ve had a lot of calls.” Noah stacked more lumber in the back of his work truck. Since Teddy had left him high and dry and he wasn’t getting any answer from Caine’s crew, Noah had decided his best bet was to just plan on doing the basic repairs on Trinity’s floor on his own. He could do it. He’d worked on enough old houses that he knew how, and it would be a good teaching exercise for the teens he worked with. But it was a pain in the neck that he had to do it at all.

  Assuming he could get in the house—he hadn’t thought that far ahead, and he should have. Sighing, he swiped the back of one gloved hand over his forehead and eyed Jeb. It was probably a bad time to ask about it, too.

  As Noah turned back to his supply stock, Jeb moved in out of the sunlight. “Rossi called.”

  “Did he?” Noah tossed Jeb a look over his shoulder. Lingering by the waist-high work desk, he checked the measurements again. This was going to be a fun talk. Temper knotted in his gut and he groped for something to calm it, but there wasn’t much that was helping. “Kind of surprising he didn’t call before now, if you ask me. Everybody in town is talking about it.”

  “When did you tell him?”

  Stopping in his tracks, Noah planted his hands on his hips and stared down at the floor. A flat-out question. Jeb knew Noah too well. He wasn’t going to lie about it, and a flat-out question wasn’t one he could dodge. Blowing out a breath, he stripped off the gloves he’d been wearing as he loaded up the lumber. “This morning. I called the nurses’ desk and asked if they could hold the newspaper until I got out there to talk with him.” Turning around, he met Jeb’s gaze levelly. “I figured it would be better if he heard it from somebody rather than reading about it and getting that sucker punch. I also figured nobody from the police department would think to go out there and warn him … appears I was right.”