Second Nature (Crimson Cove Mysteries Book 2)

by Tara Brown

  The sleep was instant and deep, and when I woke Jake’s mother was in the room. She was sitting in the armchair I had been in, only she was dressed beautifully as if she were going to church.

  Her head was lowered and her chest rose and fell slowly.

  I turned and looked at the calm face of the boy who had been my pillow all night long. He didn't budge, stir, or make a sound. He slept peacefully with the subtle beeping going off rhythmically.

  I ran a bandaged hand along his scruffy cheek. He had close to a full beard. The dark scruff made him look so much older. Crawling up the bed beside him I tested my theory. I leaned on the bed and lifted my face, lowering my mouth on his.

  The short hairs of his beard tickled my lips, but I stayed, kissing him and hoping to somehow breathe a little of my life force into him.

  I pressed harder and harder until I finally gave up.

  Slumping back I sighed, defeated.

  “I tried that too.”

  I spun to see his mother stretching her neck. Jake looked like her. Thick dark hair, dark-blue eyes, and the best smile. On her it was beautiful; on him it was handsome. She didn't look old enough to be his mom.

  “I tried kissing him too. I thought maybe I could will him back to me.” She rolled her eyes. “Stupid girlish thought.”

  I lowered my gaze as I climbed off the bed. “I wish there was something I could do.”

  Her mouth dropped. “Lainey, you saved him. Tom had him up there for days. A week. They arrested him today when he got home.”

  My brain didn't register the gratitude. I just heard the accusation. “Tom?”

  “The authorities found Rachel’s cell phone with some of her blood on it and Laurence Henning’s bloody wallet and car keys.” She lowered her gaze and her voice, “They found some other unsettling evidence in his office.”

  “Oh.” I didn't know if that was the truth of the matter or not.

  “Samantha is devastated. Obviously. She had no idea.”

  Sage’s mom being devastated was far down on the list of things I cared about. So I offered her my smile and nod. Tom was not the killer. I knew that. I didn’t know how or why, but I did.

  “Sage said you girls were considering canceling the Halloween ball.”

  I maintained my composure but tried to figure out why the sudden subject change. “We just thought maybe we could all hold off until the Christmas formal. Try to recover from this.”

  She tilted her head and offered the worst smile. It was the one my mother gave me when she would patronize me and make me do things she wanted. “My dear girl, the surefire way to let Tom win at his little game is to change our world around him. He’ll see the impact he’s had. We can’t allow that. We’re stronger and braver and far too refined to give in to such a weak thought.” She chuckled and nodded. “Jake would want you to have the party to spite Tom. Don't you see?”

  I didn’t. Jake wouldn't want that. He would want everyone to be okay.

  I knew her words made sense to her, but they were based entirely on the fact Tom was the killer and that was just too easy. I didn't trust it or believe we should bank our entire lives upon it.

  “There is nothing to recover from. We are strong emotionally. Something like this experience might have broken the weak, but that is not who we are. Weakness was bred out of us a long time ago.” Her eyes did that maniacal sparkling thing. I’d seen that look before. It was the direct result of brainwashing.

  She scared the hell out of me. She was actually worse than my mom. Now I understood why I wasn't allowed to be dirty and covered in my maybe-boyfriend’s blood and urine. Even if it was her son’s.

  “Okay, I’ll make sure we still have the ball.” I hadn’t even planned on going to the stupid thing. Now I was the chairperson and responsible for it even occurring? Shit.

  I reached back and squeezed Jake’s hand, holding it tightly.

  “That's a good girl.” She stood and looked around, brushing the bottom of her dress. “I’m going to see about having something brought in. Would you care for a salad or something?”

  “Yea—yes, please.”

  She offered the fakest of the fake smiles and left the room.

  For the first time since I realized she was there, I exhaled, adding a slight whisper, “What the fu—”

  “You know if you say it, you won’t ever go back. You’ll say it all the time, and it’ll get easier and easier.”

  I spun, smiling wide at the dark-blue stare and growled words. “You’re awake.”

  I jumped Jake, gripping and squeezing too tightly.

  “Easy, Lain.” His growl was breathy and weak.

  I forced my fingers to retreat. “Sorry.” I lifted my head and started to cry. “You’re awake.”

  He nodded. “I’ve been awake a couple of times. You were sleeping.”

  “Did your mom see you awake?”

  He shook his head. “No one did. I saw you and knew I was safe so I fell back to sleep.” The dim look of horror and trauma lingered in his eyes. “I knew you’d find me.”

  I shook my head, fighting the tears and the weakness inside me. “I didn't. I thought I would be too late.”

  “If anyone could find me, it’s you.” He switched back to whispering and trying not to growl at all, “So, what’s wrong with me?”

  “Bruised larynx. Lacerations on wrists and ankles. Two broken toes—you’re very lucky you didn't lose one of them. Dehydration and starvation. Pneumonia. A broken rib. And some other little things like a bladder infection and stuff like that.”

  “That's it?” He chuckled like an old hoarse smoker.

  “That's it? You expected worse than pneumonia and broken bones?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “When you were strangling me I thought it was some kind of dream. Then I thought I had died. When I woke here and you were on me, it took a whole minute to realize the bandages on your hands were from trying to stop the fishing line from choking me.”

  “Rita got it worse. She almost lost her pinky.”

  He winced.

  “What do you remember?”

  “Nothing. You. Your face. You were screaming and the line was choking me.”

  “Before that?”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don't know.” His slow dirty grin crept across his still puffy lips.

  “I don't want to know what you remember. I take it back.”

  “I remember us.” He chuckled but it came out with a wheeze and some coughs.

  “Shhhhhh. Don't laugh. Just stay still.”

  “I’m not dying, Lain. Laughter is good medicine.” He glanced down at his lower half. “You know what else is good medicine?”

  “Ewwww.” I wrinkled my nose. “Don't even.”

  “What? I missed you.” He cocked a dark eyebrow. “Is everyone else okay?”

  “Yeah. We have some new leads and the police have arrested Tom.”

  “Tom?” He looked confused. “Why Tom?”

  “He’s the one who held you captive. We found you in Sage’s attic.”

  He scowled. “No. It wasn't Tom.” He looked like he was remembering something. “I don't know who it was, but it wasn't Tom.” He paused. “I can’t remember. There’s something in the way. Like fog in my head. But there was a voice. One I didn't know. It was a girl, not a guy.”

  “A girl carried you to Sage’s attic?”

  He shrugged. “I don't know. But the girl’s voice is the only one I remember. And a weird smell. Like cigars.” He relaxed and sighed. “I don't know the rest. It’ll come back.”

  “You really don't recall Tom there at all?”

  He shook his head. “I think Tom is a giant douche, but he’s not who I remember. No.” He licked his parched lips.

  “Let me fix those.” I winced seeing how puffy and cracked they were. I dragged out a lip balm from my pocket and dabbed it lightly on him.

  “They probably don't look very kissable.”

  “No.” I laughed and bit my l
ip as I massaged the balm into the cracks and dry skin. “I don't think either of us looks very kissable at this moment.”

  “You always look kissa—”

  “Jake!” His mother lost her stiffness as tears burst from her eyes and she leapt at her son. Somehow I got included in the embrace so I felt her tremble and shudder as she sobbed into his neck. “You’re awake!” She squeezed and jumped up, rushing from the room.

  He gave me a look. “What do you want to bet she’s getting my dad and not the doctor?”

  “I don't think your dad is here.” I laughed. “Neither is mine. They got called to an emergency meeting.”

  He swallowed a lump in his throat and shrugged. “You’re here. I don't care about anyone else.”

  I kissed his cheek lightly and got off the bed, leaving him to the mercy of his mother. He was right; his mother hadn’t grabbed the doctors at all. His dad was there. He rushed into the room, grabbing his son and holding him tightly. The tremble in his hands was everything he didn't say.

  Somehow this was making our parents better people.

  They didn't fight who they were. They couldn't.

  But this was making them drop the bravado, even if only for a minute. It was long enough for us to see they did care for us.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The sexy cowardly lion

  I pinned the last picture to the wall, the corkboard of doom.

  “That is some serious shit, Lainey.” Ashton stood behind me, venturing down into my room now like we were roomies.

  “And still no answers. Lucinda Wentworth is a possibility. Tom is clearly being framed, but why?”

  “I don't care. I’m just glad he’s in jail while we figure that out.”

  “I agree. It means you can venture out of the attic. If Tom’s guilty, then you’re not.” I folded my arms and stared at the massive amount of clues we’d found. “The letters that have been sent to you, Vincent, Rachel, and my mom, all came from cities Tom was visiting. He’s in on this, but I don't believe he would actually hurt any of us. I don't know why. He’s such a jerkface, but he’s not a murderer, I don't think.”

  “You could always ask him.”

  I turned and looked at Ashton. “You’re right. He’s still being held in New Canaan.”

  Ashton gave me a look. “So you and Jake, huh?”

  I didn't know what he meant right away because the subject change was unexpected. “Yeah.”

  He bit his lip. “I’m going to say something, and I want you to forget I ever said it. But I have to or I won’t ever be free of it.”

  My insides tightened. “What?”

  “I like you. I’ve always liked you.” His eyes lowered. “I broke it off with Rachel in hopes we might—maybe?” He rolled his eyes and laughed at himself. “Yeah.” He shook his head. “That's—”

  “Stop.” My face was on fire and my stomach hurt, but it was for the wrong reason. It felt wrong. The feminist in me wanted to shout at him but the soft-spoken, kind person just smiled. “I think sometimes we think something is going to be amazing when we’re younger, and no matter what changes, we believe that thing is what we need. But then we realize the amazing part is actually made up in our head, and we don't know what we want.” I laughed nervously because it was coming out so wrong. “I used to think that about you too—about us.” I shook my head at my own ridiculousness and the desperate need for this to end. “But I like Jake. I like him a lot. He’s a big meathead in a lot of ways and not super in touch with his feelings. But I like him.”

  He smiled through the rejection. “I know. I’m glad you found someone you feel that way about.”

  I wanted to say so many things, most were mean and a little bitter. But I didn't. I turned back to the corkboard and sighed. “You’re right about this though. I’m going to see Tom.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  I gave him a look. “You will?”

  “I need to tell the police my side of the story.” He bit his lip. “I’m going to give them the letter I got that told me to leave town. I suggest you guys do the same. The secrecy is what will get us in the end. It’s power.”

  I nodded. “Okay. I’ll tell Vincent and my mom to hand their letters in. And we have the stuff from Rachel’s. We can hand that in too. We can say we were all so scared of the threats on the cell phone, we didn't know what to do.”

  “Let’s go then.” He gave me a look. “And what I said before—”

  “Can we not talk about it again?” I pleaded.

  “I just want to say, I’ll be waiting in the wings, Lain. I’ll always be here for you.”

  “Thanks.” I wanted to groan and grumble and spew venom at God for his terrible timing. But instead, I gathered my phone and headed out of the room, with Ashton behind me.

  My mom was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, looking like she wanted to ask me something, but the vision of the guy behind me stopped her. “Ashton?” Her eyes darted from him to the second floor. “When did you get here? Honey, are you okay? The police are looking for you.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Allen. I got here this morning.”

  “I let him in,” Mazy chirped as she strolled through, petting her cat and offering me a wink.

  “Oh, darling. I’m so pleased you’re all right. Does your mother know you’re okay?”

  “Not yet. I was pretty worried about Tom making it look like I had killed Rachel so I stayed away. I came home because I saw his arrest on TV.”

  She winced. “I am so sorry, you poor thing. Are you going home now?”

  “Police station.” I looked back at him. “He’s going to give them his version of the night’s events, from August.” I still didn't know the story.

  “Do you want a ride?” She looked like she might shout for Dan any second.

  “No, that's all right, Mom. I can drive him. We need to chat anyway.”

  “All right. You know the rules. Call when you get there and text every half hour or I send the marines.” She nodded with a sigh.

  “I know.” I finished walking down the stairs and headed for my car, texting Lindsey about Ashton’s plan.

  He wants to be free to come back home and have his name cleared.

  Lindsey responded with a sad face and a message that they would meet us.

  Ashton climbed in the passenger seat as I got into the driver’s. “Sounds good. I thought you were going to ask your mom for her letter and pictures?”

  “I can’t do it. I can’t humiliate her further. I’ll see if I can steal them.” Before I started the car I turned and gave him a look. “Tell me what you’re going to tell the police so we know what to say in case we are ever asked.”

  He sighed and started the story, “Rachel and I got into it. I’d been telling Jake I was going to break things off with her. I thought she was screwing him or Vincent. I knew it was someone.”

  “The guy with the beard.”

  “Who?”

  “There was a hipster she was dating on the side—Skip.”

  “Part of her photography club, no doubt.” He rolled his eyes and shuddered. “They took drugs and had sex and did gross things. She and I had been fighting a lot about the club. She wouldn't tell me who the people were in it with her. She wouldn't talk about it. But I knew about the drugs and sex. She tried to get me to do it.” He looked down. “I don't find choking girls appealing. Apparently, that made me boring to her.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “I’m sorry I dated her for so long. Anyway, when I saw you girls that night at my place, I was headed to the party early to break things off with Rach. I figured if she had guests and a party going I could make a getaway. I would go down the shore for a week or so, and she would be dating someone else by the time I got back.”

  It was the most cowardly thing I’d ever heard, except for me running away when the killer drugged Jake. Maybe Ashton and I were made for each other. Or maybe it was just too many cowards in one car. “When did you get the letters from
the killer?”

  “I only ever got the one. It was the day before the party. It was on my bed. It demanded I leave town or Sage was next. It was sitting on my bed with a picture of Rachel, photoshopped so she looked dead. It was so well done that when I got it, I called her. She answered and yelled at me for not giving her space like she’d asked. I knew it was faked, but it said if I didn't leave town the same thing would happen to my sister.”

  “So you broke up with Rachel and left the party, intent on leaving town?”

  “Yeah. For a couple of days. I figured I’d go fishing.” He shivered. “My jeep was trapped by other cars in the driveway. So I left on foot. I made it halfway to Sierra’s and then I started to wonder if Rachel wasn't just trying to scare me—just trying to be an asshole.”

  “Right, that seems weird that someone sends you a scary picture of Rachel and a threatening letter. You don't have any enemies.”

  “None. So yeah, I walked back to Rachel’s, cutting through the woods from the road. Someone was carrying Rachel into the woods. She was bleeding from her face. I wouldn't have known it was her if not for the dress. The guy, a bearded guy in a suit, laid her down and smashed a rock on her head. I didn't know who he was, but I suspected he’d sent the letter. So I ran. I went to Sierra’s to find her dad, but her mom was there with her uncle.” He looked down. “They were in the hot tub.” He wrinkled his nose. “So I hid in the woods by the house and waited for them to leave. I was going to borrow one of the cars. I didn't know where to go or what to do. I thought about calling the cops but then the threat on Sage stopped me. You girls drove up in Rachel’s car minutes later. You were covered in blood and looking shocked. I knew something had happened and the threat against my sister was real.”

  “You knew we didn't kill her.”

  “Of course. I saw that guy. I told Lindsey to bleach and clean everything and burn your clothes, and I took Rachel’s car and drove it off the pier up the shore. I hitched a ride to my dad’s old cabin, and I stayed there. I didn't know what to do. I burned the photoshopped picture of Rachel and I laid low.”

  “Did you see the news, that Mr. Henning had died?”

  “Yeah. I assumed whatever was going on, it was serious. I phoned Tom’s PI, and he told me he was being paid to look for me. I wired him a lump sum of money from an account I keep in the Caribbean and told him to start watching you girls and to give Tom fake leads of where to find me. I said he was to watch you girls constantly.”