Breaking Skin

by Debra Doxer

  “Aunt Nikki!” Langley comes running down the stairs. “Can we get ice cream too?”

  “Sure.” I grab the photograph and shove it back into the envelope.

  Langley looks at the open envelope in my hand. “What’s in there?”

  “It’s nothing. Have you found envelopes like this on the doorstep before?”

  Langley nods. “One time.”

  When she turns to walk away, I grab her arm. “When?”

  Surprise flits across her face, and I realize how harsh I sound. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Do you remember when?”

  Langley’s wide eyes move between the envelope and my face. “What’s in there, Aunt Nikki?”

  My lips press together. I don’t want to show her, but it’s only a photograph. It can’t hurt her. He can hurt her.

  “It’s a picture of my father, your grandfather.”

  “Can I see?”

  Reluctantly, I take the picture from the envelope. “Have you seen a picture of him before?”

  “Grandma showed me some.” She eyes it curiously.

  “Do you remember when the other envelope came? Was it recently?”

  “I think it was after our game with Sunnyvale last month. Do you think the other envelope had a picture in it too?”

  Maybe. I sigh and rub my forehead. “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t get it. Why was this picture left at our door?”

  Langley pulls open the front door and steps outside. Her gaze goes to the woods at the end of the cul-de-sac. “It looks like the same jacket.”

  “What?”

  I take the picture from her hand and look at again. I was so startled to see my father’s face, I didn’t notice he’s wearing the army jacket in the photo. I stare out at the woods now too with my heart lodged inside my throat.

  “My grandfather’s dead, right?” Langley asks, her voice a hesitant whisper. “Mom told me he died.”

  “He did. I’m sure the man you saw just has the same jacket. A lot of people have jackets like that.”

  Too late, I realize it was probably a mistake to show her the photograph, because now she looks spooked. If the first envelope contained a similar picture, maybe Renee was spooked too. If I’m being honest with myself, they’re not the only ones.

  My gaze lingers on the woods before I follow her into the house and close the door behind me.

  The last thing I want is for Langley to know how uneasy I am. So we go to the grocery store as planned and buy everything we need to make pizza. If Langley is still thinking about the photograph when we get home, she doesn’t mention it. By the time lunch is over and the kitchen is cleaned up, I’m exhausted by the smile I’ve forced myself to wear all afternoon.

  When Langley asks if she can watch television in the family room, I say yes without hesitation and tell her I’m going to take Siegfried into the backyard for a little while. Before I go outside, I make sure the front door is locked and then I text Cole, hoping he’s home.

  I’ve only been outside for a few minutes when he steps out onto his deck and grins at me across the distance. I smile back but it’s weak and stiff, and when he’s close enough, he notices.

  “Hey,” he says as he leans down to give me a soft kiss. “Something wrong?”

  I hold the envelope out to him. “This was on the doorstep when we got back from soccer.”

  He gives me a curious look as he takes it.

  “That’s my father,” I explain as he pulls out the picture.

  He turns the envelope over and examines it the same way I did.

  “Someone just left it. I don’t know where it was taken, but he looks older than I remember so it was probably after he moved out. And he’s wearing the army jacket. I showed the picture to Langley, and she said it looks like the same jacket the man she saw in the woods wearing. He must have left the photograph.”

  Cole looks at me. “What happened to your father’s things when he died?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You said when your mother went to ask him to move back in, he was living with a woman.”

  I nod. “I suppose she could have his jacket and photographs of him. But Langley said the person in the woods is a man. She also said this wasn’t the first envelope left on the doorstep. There was another one last month.”

  He hands back the envelope with a dark expression.

  “This has something to do with why Renee left. If the other photograph was of my father and Renee already believed she saw him watching her from the woods, who knows what she was thinking.”

  “She wouldn’t run and leave Langley behind if she thought there was any danger, would she?”

  I cross my arms over my chest, unsure what to say because I don’t know the answer. I would hope not, but I just don’t know.

  Cole sighs and rubs his neck, an unfamiliar tightness in his face and dark shadows beneath his eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  He nods and glances away, but now that I think of it, he looks pale too.

  “Cole?”

  He expels a heavy breath. “It’s just a headache.”

  “Are you sure, because—”

  “We need to find out what happened to your father’s things. Who would know the name of the woman he was living with? Your mother?”

  I can’t ignore the fact that Cole’s in pain. “Can you take something for it?”

  His mouth presses into a firm line. “I did. Nothing touches it. I just have to wait it out.”

  “How often do you get them?”

  “I don’t want to fucking talk about a headache when there’s some psycho leaving pictures on your doorstep.”

  My mouth clamps shut.

  Cole squeezes his eyes closed and tilts his face toward the sky. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  When he opens his eyes and looks at me again, his regret and frustration are evident.

  I appreciate the apology, but he already has enough to deal with. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I keep laying my problems at your feet when you’re already dealing with so much.”

  He shakes his head. “Don’t. I’m glad you told me. If I don’t know, I can’t help you.”

  I hate how much he’s hurting and trying not to show it. “What can I do for you? How can I help you?”

  A soft smile appears. “Just knowing you want to helps.”

  I’m glad for that but I wish I could do something.

  “You should talk to your mother,” he says. “Find out who the woman was and if she was living with him when he passed away. I know you don’t want to see your mother, but I’ll go with you.”

  Just the thought of seeing her makes my stomach hurt, and I would never subject Cole to her.

  “Not my mother,” I say. “On Monday, when Langley’s at school, I’ll go down to the post office in San Mateo where my father worked. Maybe someone there knows who she was.”

  “The post office here in town is open on Saturdays. I bet San Mateo’s is too. I can go over there now and ask some questions.”

  I look at him carefully and shake my head. “I can’t let you do that. You should be resting and taking care of yourself.”

  “It’s not a matter of you letting me do it.”

  It’s the same thing he said when I told him I couldn’t afford a detective and he went ahead and hired one himself. So far, the detective has found no trace of Renee.

  “Cole.”

  He waits and listens, but I don’t know what I can say to change his mind. The look in his eyes is one of uncompromising determination, and I feel myself caving. To argue with him would be futile.

  “I’d go with you but I’d have to bring Langley, and I don’t want her to know what’s going on,” I say weakly.

  “Of course you don’t.” He glances at the house before he presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Does she know what’s going on with us?”

  I shake my head. “Langley knows we’ve become friends, but I don’t think s
he suspects more. They other day she told me she knows that I like you. Then she said her mother likes you too.”

  “Nikki—”

  “I know.” I hold my hand up. “You don’t have to explain. I believe you about Renee. But I’d rather not say anything to Langley right now. I don’t know what she thinks about you and Renee, and I don’t want to give her anything more to worry about.”

  “If that’s what you want.” He scratches his cheek, and I can tell that he doesn’t like what I said. Then he leans down and kisses me. “I’d better get to the post office before it closes. I don’t know your father’s first name.”

  To my surprise, I hesitate, as if saying his name could somehow conjure him up. “Ronald Taylor or just Ron,” I say and then clear my throat of the sound. “That’s what he went by.”

  Cole reaches out and touches my cheek. “I’ll call you if I find out anything.”

  Then he leaves and I stand there for the longest time thinking about him. I don’t like seeing him in pain, and I don’t like secrets. But since Langley said Renee likes Cole, I’ve had a knot in the pit of my stomach. I want to ignore it, but each time I remember why it’s there, it twists a little tighter.

  Before I go back inside, I leave another message on Renee’s voice mail. It occurs to me she must be accessing her voice mail or her mailbox would be full by now. She could be deleting messages without ever listening to them, but in case she isn’t, I’ll keep leaving them to let her know she’s loved and missed.

  I won’t give up, especially now that I understand more, or at least I think I do.

  “Her name is Jessie Crowe,” Cole says. “I’m trying to track down an address for her now.”

  I grip the phone and walk out of the kitchen, where Langley is drying the dishes from dinner.

  “How did you find that out?”

  “A friend of your father’s at the post office told me. I said I was from the lottery looking to deliver a check to him.”

  “And he believed you?”

  Cole chuckles. “Actually, no. He recognized me, which ended up working in my favor. It’s not every day a former pro hockey player offers to buy you a drink.”

  “You had to buy him a drink?”

  “Several, actually, until he felt like telling me some stories about his old pal Ron.” Cole is oddly silent after that.

  “What stories?”

  He sighs heavily over the phone, and anxiety frays my nerves.

  “I’m heading back now,” he says. “I’d rather tell you in person after Langley goes to sleep. I think I know who left the pictures and who Renee and Langley saw in the woods.”

  My pulse speeds up. “Who?”

  “Later. When I get back.”

  If he doesn’t want to tell me over the phone, that means he’s afraid of how I’ll react. Doesn’t he realize not telling me isn’t exactly keeping calm?

  After we hang up, I turn to find Langley standing there, looking at me. “Who was it?”

  I take in her expectant expression. “Mr. Dempsey.”

  “Oh.” Her face falls the way it does every time the phone rings and it’s not Renee on the other end.

  I walk over and pull her into a hug. “Be patient. She’ll come home. You’ll see.”

  Langley is subdued after that as we go through her bedtime routine. By the time Cole knocks softly on the back door later, I’m emotionally drained from the day.

  When he comes inside, I can see how tired he looks. The circles beneath his eyes are more pronounced, and the light in the room seems to bother him so I turn it off.

  “You look exhausted.”

  “Let’s sit down.” He takes my hand and brings me over to sit with him at the kitchen table.

  “The woman your father was living with had a son. It’s possible he ended up with some of your father’s things. Sounds like he would be around your age now, maybe a little older. I think he’s who Langley and Renee saw in the woods.”

  I blink at Cole in the shadowy kitchen. “Why him?”

  He squeezes my hand. “Apparently your father used to talk about you and your sister. He was angry about what he said were false accusations. He had some choice words for your mother too because she wouldn’t give him a divorce so he could marry the woman he was living with. If her son absorbed all that, it’s possible he decided to make some trouble.”

  “He made more than some trouble. My father’s friend told you all this?”

  “A lot of it, and the detective Howard hired filled in the rest. I think you should call the police. Fill out a report, tell them our suspicions, and if he comes back, maybe they can arrest him.”

  “Why would he come here now after all this time?”

  “I don’t know. I was wondering the same thing.”

  “Do you think he could have hurt Renee?”

  “Not if he’s still out there doing this. I would bet he doesn’t know Renee isn’t here.”

  I look at Cole as I attempt to absorb it all. It’s dark in the kitchen, but I don’t miss the way he squints his eyes and how stiffly he holds his neck and shoulders. He’s in pain, and concern for him pushes everything else aside for now.

  “Thank you,” I say and take his hand in both of mine. “Thank you for everything you’ve done today, but your day is over.”

  I stand and urge him up with me. When he turns for the back door, I don’t release him. “Let me do something for you now. Have you eaten dinner?”

  He smiles gratefully. “I’m not hungry. I just need to go home and lie down.”

  “You can rest here. I don’t want you to be alone when you’re feeling like this.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he says, but he doesn’t move to leave again. Instead, he eyes me with uncertainty.

  I tug lightly on his arm, and that’s all the coaxing he needs to follow me through the kitchen and down the hall. Quietly, we climb the stairs together, and when we reach Renee’s bedroom, he sits down on the bed and looks up at me with eyes that shine in the darkness.

  As I caress the side of his face, his eyes close, and I’m overcome by a wave of tenderness for Cole. There’s nothing I want more than to take away his pain and never see him hurt like this again.

  When I reach for the hem of his shirt, he raises his arms so I can lift it over his head. Then I press on his shoulder, urging him to lie down. Next, I unbutton his jeans and look up at his face to find his eyes still closed. Rather than disturb him by trying to take the jeans off, I leave them and grab a blanket from the closet to spread over him.

  Soon his chest rises and falls steadily. The moment his head hit the pillow, he was fast asleep. Even though Cole wasn’t feeling well today, he pushed himself to do these things for me. From the looks of it, he pushed himself to the point of exhaustion.

  Moving quietly, I get undressed, pull on a T-shirt, and slip into bed beside him, making sure to set the alarm on my phone so I’ll wake up before Langley in the morning. I don’t want her walking in here to find us this way.

  This is the first time I’ve been in Renee’s bed, although it may not be the first time for Cole. But that doesn’t matter to me tonight. He needs to rest, and I need to be near him.

  As I lie in the darkness and gaze at Cole’s profile, sleep feels far away. Everything Cole learned today twists around in my head. It doesn’t surprise me that my father took no responsibility for what he’d done or that he lied to his new family and his friends. But what could he have said to cause the son of his girlfriend to want to scare Renee so badly? And why now? My father has been gone for years.

  Cole turns onto his side and reaches out for me, pulling me against him. I burrow into him and some of my tension eases. I could get used to this, sleeping in his arms at night.

  I wake up in the morning before my alarm goes off and slip out of bed without waking Cole. He looks peaceful and so sexy with the blanket pushed down to his waist and his bent arm slung over his head. The last thing I want to do is leave that bed, but he’s still sound asleep,
and after the way he looked last night, I figure he needs the rest. I hope it’s enough to cure his headache.

  Watching him suffer that way was difficult. Feeling my own pain is easier than witnessing his. I’m glad he stayed last night and that he wanted to be with me when he was hurting. I wish I could have done more to help him, but he made me feel as if I was helping just by being with him. That still astounds me, probably because of the way people in the past have accused me of hurting them.

  After I get dressed, I go downstairs with the idea of making pancakes for everyone. I’m pulling open cabinets, looking for the pancake mix I bought, when Langley walks in.

  “Good morning,” I say.

  She yawns and grunts back something that sounds like morning, then says, “Can you drive me to Violet’s house later?”

  I turn to face her. “Who’s Violet?”

  “A girl from school. She invited me over. I forgot to tell you.”

  “Sure.”

  The fact that someone invited Langley over makes me unreasonably happy. Since I’ve been here, she hasn’t had any plans with friends.

  When a creaking sound comes from the ceiling above us, she freezes, her gaze moving from the ceiling to me. Cole must be up, but Langley’s hope that it’s her mother is written all over her face.

  “That’s Mr. Dempsey. He stayed here last night.”

  Her face falls but she tries to hide it. “Why?”

  “He wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t want him to be alone so I had him stay here.”

  “Derek’s back with his mom then?”

  I nod, glad Langley seems more interested in Derek’s whereabouts than Cole’s. Since she’s only eight years old, I don’t know what her knowledge of the birds and bees is, but her lack of curiosity would seem to indicate it’s limited.

  “Did you sleep on the couch like always?”

  I pause. Maybe it’s not so limited.

  “Yes.” The lie is easier than the truth, and I’d already planned on lying about it to Langley when I asked Cole to stay here, despite how I hate lying. But this one time I give myself a pass.

  “What are you looking for?” she asks.