Dark Hearts

by Sharon Sala

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered and headed to Carly’s room. He found the same thing. All her stuff was missing, too.

  He walked back through the house with a heavy heart. So it had come to this. The first time shit got hard, she ran away. He went back into the kitchen and saw the note on the island. He picked it up.

  We’ve gone to Charleston to Mother’s house. I took Carly out of school. She’ll finish out the year there. I saw the bills. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do without. I won’t fight the divorce.

  Gloria

  “Well, hell,” Greg mumbled, and then dropped the letter and turned to face where life had taken him.

  His stomach grumbled. He would have been pissed off that no one had cooked him any food, but he couldn’t remember the last time Gloria had cooked anyway. He checked his wallet for money, and when he saw he had just enough to eat on, he walked back out of the house and drove away. There was food in town. All he had to do was pick a place.

  * * *

  Sam and Lainey entered Cutter’s to find the standard Friday-night crowd. The hostess, Cherry Adams, saw them and smiled. Sam had come in with Trey and Dallas the other night, but without a date. It appeared he was revisiting old times.

  “Good evening, you two. Lainey Pickett! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you. Where are you living now?”

  “I’m still living on the home place,” Lainey said.

  Cherry’s eyes widened with surprise, but she kept her curiosity to herself.

  “Well, whatever you’ve been doing, you look stunning. I love your hair, and that outfit is to die for.”

  Lainey’s smile froze. She had almost died to get it.

  “Thank you. Sam picked it out for me. He has a good eye, don’t you think?”

  Sam was grinning. A little embarrassed, but soaking up the attention just the same.

  “I think the Jakes brothers always know what they like,” Cherry said. “So let’s get you seated. Would you like a booth or a table?”

  “Booth, please,” Sam said, and then took Lainey’s arm as they followed Cherry across the room.

  * * *

  The killer walked into Cutter’s right behind Sam Jakes and a tall, slender redhead. He watched as Sam removed her overcoat and handed it to the girl in coat check, then pocketed the stub she gave him.

  All he could see was the back of her head, but from where he was standing she looked good. Then she turned sideways, and when Sam leaned down to whisper something in her ear, he recognized her. Lainey Pickett. Their reunion must have been a result of her presence at the meeting at City Hall. Then the hostess appeared and took them over to a booth on the west side of the room.

  His eyes narrowed as he watched them go. Sam couldn’t keep his hands off her. He seemed to remember them being a couple before Sam left for the military. From the way they were behaving, they might be leaning toward that relationship again. Whatever. He had more to worry about than who Sam Jakes chose to fuck.

  The hostess came back to greet him, and when he also asked for a booth, she seated him right behind Sam. Apparently, they were sharing a waitress, which was fine with him. As long as she kept his coffee hot and the conversation short.

  * * *

  Unaware he was close enough to the killer to reach out and grab him, Sam directed his focus entirely on Lainey.

  She was beaming, and the way her eyes flashed as the waitress walked over and she recognized yet another friend from her past made him happy.

  She and the waitress, a girl named Jennifer, had gone to school together. Jennifer seemed so happy to see her that she kept giggling while taking their order.

  As soon as Jennifer left, Sam reached across the table and held out his hand. Lainey grasped it as if it were the gold ring on a merry-go-round and held tight.

  “Oh, Sam, this is wonderful. Thank you for bringing me here.”

  “Believe me, it’s totally my pleasure,” he said softly. “So tell me, how was your day? Did you have classes?”

  “World history at 2:00 p.m. and that was it. I’m off until Monday, but that day is pretty full. What about you?”

  “There was a lot going on that had to do with the investigation,” he said. “And I’ve got a big day tomorrow, but I won’t go into that here.”

  “Do you know if there was anything of value in Mom’s diaries?” she asked.

  “Yes. Just the revelation about the cheating scandal was huge. It’s opened up all kinds of leads.”

  “Mom kept diaries all her life. There are more if you think you might need them,” she said.

  “My mom did the same thing. She called them journals, but she was still writing in them up until she was murdered. In fact, what she wrote, combined with what we gleaned from your mother’s diaries, has given us most of what we know right now.”

  Lainey leaned forward and lowered her voice.

  “I stayed in your meeting until I felt I had nothing more to share, and then I left, so I don’t know what all was said afterward about the cheating thing, but I can’t imagine committing murder over something like that. As for the names in her posts, they weren’t the real names, were they? They read like code to hide people’s real names. I can’t imagine why, other than it being Mom’s way of being cute as a teenager.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to read them yet, but I have them. Trey gave them to me today.”

  “She wrote about things like Tom Collins and Betty Boop being lovers, and everyone thinking Betty Boop was helping someone cheat, but it wasn’t her boyfriend TC. The gossip was, someone else paid her a lot of money for the answers to a final.”

  Sam’s heart skipped when she said the name Collins. Tom Collins was the name of a mixed drink, but Donny Collins was MIA. Then he wondered if Donny Collins had a girlfriend in school. It was something to investigate.

  He shrugged. “Cheating has a whole lot of repercussions. A cheater’s status and honor would take a big hit if he was found out, and some people will do anything to keep their name clean, you know?”

  “You’re right. I didn’t think of it like that.”

  “Oh, good, here comes our appetizer,” Sam said.

  Lainey leaned back with her hands in her lap as Jennifer set the hot baked-artichoke dip in the middle of the table, and then asked, “May I top off your drinks?”

  “We’re good for now,” Sam said.

  “Enjoy,” Jennifer said, and moved on to the next booth.

  * * *

  The killer looked up when the waitress stopped by his table. While he’d been waiting, he had gotten an earful of information he didn’t like, and now he was so distracted he could barely focus enough to order. By the time the waitress left, Sam and Lainey were talking about food and he’d missed his chance to hear the end of the conversation. He didn’t like knowing there were even more diaries that could screw up everything. What the hell was it about girls in the ’80s writing everything down?

  * * *

  The steaks they’d ordered came cooked to perfection, although Lainey got full before her food was gone. Sam obliged by finishing off the last four bites of her small filet, and then had the audacity to ask if she wanted dessert.

  “Maybe crème brûlée or a slice of cheesecake?” he asked.

  “I have poppy-seed cake with cream-cheese icing at home,” she said.

  “That sounds even better,” Sam said. “We can go home, have dessert, then eat cake.”

  Lainey laughed, and he grinned. Hearing that sound would never get old.

  He signaled for the check, left a handful of bills that included a big tip and took Lainey’s arm as they turned to leave. But their appearance together had the curious wondering, and they were stopped a couple of times before they got back to the lobby to retrieve her coat.

  “Did you enjoy
your meal?” Cherry asked.

  “It was delicious, and it was so good to see you,” Lainey said.

  “Come back and see us anytime,” Cherry said, and then left to seat another couple as Sam helped Lainey on with her coat.

  As he’d predicted, the air had turned much colder while they’d been inside, and Lainey was very glad for the weight and length of her coat. They were on their way across the parking lot to the car when a loud explosion rocked the ground on which they were standing, followed by a huge fireball shooting up into the air.

  Eleven

  Sam reacted without thought. He pulled his gun with one hand and shoved Lainey behind him with the other. One explosion and he was thousands of miles away, fighting a war.

  Lainey saw the fire, and then she saw Sam’s face and knew he was mentally no longer with her. All of a sudden it no longer mattered what had caused that explosion. She needed to focus on how to defuse the situation. For a moment she was uncertain how to react, and then all she could think to do was defuse the situation.

  She slipped out from behind him and carefully put a hand on his arm.

  “Sam, it’s okay, honey. You’re in Mystic. You’re home.”

  He glanced down at her, and when the front door to the restaurant opened and people began filing out to see what had caused the explosion, his focus shifted to them.

  In that moment Lainey grabbed his face with both hands. “Sam! Look. At. Me!”

  Sam’s heart was pounding, and despite the cold, he was sweating. He was already trying to regain his sense of self when he heard Lainey’s voice. He looked down and saw the worried look on her face, and his gut knotted.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Put the gun up,” she said.

  He looked surprised that he was holding it and put it back in the shoulder holster, but his gut was still in knots. “Damn it. Now you see why—”

  She interrupted him before he could say it.

  “What I see is a man who has a right to be jumpy because of loud, unexpected noises. I’m cold. Let’s get in the car, okay?”

  He sighed. The only good thing about what happened was that she’d gotten a dose of the other side of his life and hadn’t freaked out.

  He unlocked the door for her, and then circled the car and got in. As soon as they were inside, he started the engine so he could turn on the heater, and then clasped her hand.

  “I’m sorry. This is what happens sometimes. Did I scare you?”

  “No, you didn’t scare me. You’re my Sam.”

  He threaded his fingers through hers, and then leaned back against the seat with his eyes closed, trying to regain his sense of self. His heart was pounding so hard it was difficult to breathe, and all he could think was that he’d ruined a perfect evening.

  “But that’s just it, Lainey. Sometimes I’m not your Sam. Sometimes I’m the bomb tech who got blown up.”

  “I get what you’re saying, but you aren’t hearing me. When I see this, I just think it’s because of something that happened to my Sam. Of course your ways of reacting to things will be different because your life experience has been different, and if you will remember, I know next to nothing about what happened, because you never told me. I only knew the bits your mom shared.”

  “What do you want to know?” he asked.

  “Where were you when it happened? How did it happen?”

  “In Iraq. Fallujah, to be exact. One of the men from our unit, a man named Carlos Olvera, had stepped on a mine. If he moved off it, it would explode. I was on my knees trying to defuse it. I had on all the padded gear a bomb tech wears, and was digging down in the sand when I stopped and turned to grab a tool. As I did, Carlos suddenly yelled, ‘Sniper! Get down!’ I heard a burst of gunfire as I threw myself away from the bomb. Carlos fired back, but he had already been hit. Everything blew up when he fell. Because I wasn’t facing the bomb when it went off, I took most of the shrapnel and the blast in my back. Carlos died. I didn’t. Loud noises still rattle my cage.”

  “Lumps under my skin rattle my cage, too. Let’s just agree that we’re part of the walking wounded and let it go.”

  He exhaled slowly. “I can do that,” he said, and before she could answer, the notes of “Amazing Grace” filled the car.

  Sam answered his phone. “Hello?”

  It was Trey. “Where are you?” he asked.

  “Just leaving Cutter’s with Lainey, why?”

  “I got a call about an explosion.”

  “Yes, we heard it. It was loud...really loud.”

  And in that moment Trey got it. “Oh, shit. Are you okay?”

  “Mostly. So what’s up?”

  “I was going to tell you that Trina’s condition has been upgraded from critical to serious, and they’re going to start weaning her off the drugs that are keeping her asleep.”

  “That’s wonderful news. Did they give you a timeline as to when they expect her to wake up?” Sam asked.

  “Maybe in a couple of days.”

  “That’s great,” Sam said.

  “As long as you’re okay, I’ll get over to the scene, see what the hell happened. Talk to you later,” Trey said.

  Sam slipped the phone in his pocket and turned to Lainey.

  “That was Trey. He called to tell me Trina’s improving and they’re going to begin weaning her off the drugs.”

  Lainey gasped. “Sam! That’s wonderful! Did they say how long it would take for her to wake up?”

  “Maybe a couple of days.”

  “And then you’ll know your killer!”

  He nodded, but his gaze was still focused on the fire above the rooftops.

  “That was one hell of an explosion,” he said.

  She turned to look at the skyline and saw huge orange flames above the roof of the nearest building.

  “I hope no one was injured.”

  Sam looked at the sky. “It would be a miracle,” he muttered.

  She squeezed his hand. “Miracles happen, don’t they?” she said.

  He looked at her then, with the streetlights painting shadows on the contours of her face and was struck once again by her singular beauty. Despite everything she’d gone through, for him, she was still light in the dark.

  “Would you mind if we stopped off at the hospital for a quick look in on Trina before we go home?” he asked.

  “I would love to see her,” Lainey said. “Do you want me to drive?”

  He slid a hand beneath her chin, then leaned over and kissed her.

  “No, baby, I’m okay, but thank you for asking.” He steered out of the parking lot and headed to the hospital.

  The killer walked out just as they were driving away. He was still bothered by the fact that Lainey Pickett had more of her mother’s diaries. It stood to reason that no specific names had been mentioned or the cops would already have made an arrest, but it left him with an unsettled feeling. This had started out simple; now there were too many things beyond his control.

  He drove out of Cutter’s parking lot and followed Sam’s car to see where they were going. When they drove into the hospital parking lot, he guessed they were going to visit the sister. He thought about trying to find Lainey Pickett’s house, but he didn’t know where she lived and let that slide for now.

  The truth was that he was tired of the whole mess. His original targets had been necessary, and he’d thought of it as “them or me.” It was when Trina Jakes had entered the picture that everything began going wrong. He’d shot her point-blank. He thought he’d shot her in the heart, but obviously he had missed. Now he was involving someone else in his attempts to get rid of her, which meant that once Moses Ledbetter gave him the bomb, he couldn’t let Ledbetter live, either. The stakes were getting higher and the cost so much greater. Af
ter all he’d gone through, this had to work out.

  * * *

  Lainey was holding Sam’s hand as they stepped off the elevator, and she could tell he was still trying to shed the remnants of the flashback. When she slid her thumb over his wrist and felt the ragged thump of his heart, a slow anger washed through her. What he’d been through—what all soldiers went through fighting other men’s wars—was unconscionable. She was beginning to get a feel for Sam’s mind-set, for his sense that he needed to distance himself from the people he loved, and she understood something now that she hadn’t understood before. PTSD was like a scar. In one form or another, it was there forever.

  Sam glanced at the time as they walked into ICU. Clarice was at the desk when he stopped to sign in.

  “Good evening, Sam. Who’s your pretty friend?”

  Lainey smiled. “I’m Lainey Pickett,” she said as she took off her coat and draped it over her arm.

  Clarice’s eyes widened. “Well, my goodness, honey. I know you, but I didn’t recognize you.”

  “My hair’s a lot shorter,” Lainey said. It was an easy way to shift the subject away from her waiflike appearance.

  “Hey, Clarice, I’m adding Lainey’s name to the visitor list,” Sam said. “And I understand they’re going to start weaning Trina off the drugs that are keeping her asleep.”

  “I saw that,” Clarice said.

  “If you can keep it quiet, that would be great. We don’t want to make it public knowledge. If the killer thinks she’s still unconscious, she’ll be safer,” Sam added.

  “Understood,” Clarice said. “I’ll make sure all my nurses are alerted to that.”

  “Thanks,” Sam said, and then took Lainey’s hand. “Come on, honey. Let’s go say hello.”

  As they neared 12B Sam noticed Cain Embry was gone and Mike Cantrell was back on guard duty.

  Cantrell stood when he saw Sam coming. “Evening, Mr. Jakes.”

  “It’s Sam, remember? This is Lainey Pickett, and she has visiting rights with the rest of the family, okay?”

  Mike eyed Lainey and nodded. “Ma’am, nice to meet you.”