Dead Silence

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Dead Silence Page 30

by Brenda Novak


  Blanching, she threw the cotton candy she’d just purchased into the trash can. “With what’s left of your nose, it’s funny you can smell anything,” she said and grabbed Madeline’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  Joe had meant to intimidate her, upset her. But like every encounter with Grace these days, this exchange hadn’t given him the satisfaction he craved. Somehow, he wanted to make her need him again. Like she used to, back when she wasn’t fit to lick his boots.

  He reached out to stop her from going, but dropped his arm when the crowd parted and he spotted Buzz talking to Camille Archer.

  “What’s that bitch want with Buzz?” he muttered to himself and slipped through the people between them. He hoped to get close enough to hear. But Kennedy’s mother nodded, touched Buzz’s arm affectionately in parting and headed to the field before he could catch even a wisp of their conversation.

  “Hey,” Joe called, striding up.

  Buzz had been wearing a puzzled expression as he watched Camille disappear into the crowd, but it turned to surprise when he saw Joe. “Damn, you look even worse than I expected. What the hell did you do to make Kennedy tear you apart like that?”

  “I could’ve stopped him,” Joe said. “But I was trying not to hurt him. We’ve been friends all our lives, you know. I still don’t understand what made him come at me like that. I was just joking around.”

  Buzz didn’t seem completely convinced, but he didn’t argue. “Come on, Sarah and the kids are hungry,” he said and got in line at the snack bar.

  “What’d Camille want?” Joe asked conversationally. “To tell you how I’ve mistreated her boy? First, I save Kennedy’s fool life. Then he dates the woman who probably murdered my uncle and busts up my face for not liking it. I don’t know how anybody could feel too sorry for him.”

  “Camille didn’t say anything about the fight,” Buzz said, glancing over his shoulder as though he knew his wife would be getting impatient for her food.

  “What, then?”

  Buzz shook his head.

  “You don’t want to tell me?”

  “It’s not that. It’s just that I’m sure it wouldn’t mean any more to you than it did to me.”

  “Try me. What’d she say?”

  Buzz’s eyebrows rose as he shrugged. “Maybe you should know,” he said. “Maybe it would get you to back off the Montgomerys.”

  “What?” Joe pressed.

  “She says Kennedy has something that’ll prove Grace’s family is innocent.”

  Joe shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the clenching of his fists. He wanted the Montgomerys to be guilty. He needed them to be guilty. Or Kennedy would come out of this looking like a hero, and he’d be dog shit. “What kind of proof?”

  “I have no idea. Kennedy hasn’t mentioned a thing to me. Did you hear him say anything unusual at the pool hall last night?”

  “Nothing.”

  Buzz jingled the change in his pocket. “Whatever it is, she thinks he buried it somewhere. She kept pressing me, as if some detail might jog my memory. But it doesn’t make any sense to me. If he has proof that Grace is innocent, why would he hide it?”

  Kennedy wouldn’t hide anything that proved Grace’s innocence, Joe thought. There’d be no reason for that. He wanted her to be innocent.

  He’d only hide something that proved her guilt….

  Joe’s heart suddenly slammed against his ribs as the meaning of Buzz’s words became clear to him. Kennedy had something, something Joe needed.

  Joe blinked several times, his mind racing. Where would Kennedy hide it? At his house? In his car?

  No, Buzz had said he’d buried it. But where?

  The line moved forward, and Joe moved with it. Then he froze in place. Buried it? That was it! That was what Kennedy and Grace had been doing in the woods up at the lake!

  Remembering the small mound of earth he’d noticed not far from the restrooms made Joe feel giddy with relief and hope. He knew where it was. Just when he was beginning to panic, just when he feared Grace would get the best of him, Kennedy’s own mother handed him everything he needed to destroy the Montgomerys for good—and maybe Kennedy, too.

  “Joe?” Buzz said, sounding perplexed.

  Joe told himself to breathe deeply, to calm down. “What?”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Listen, my head is hurting like hell. I’m going home to take a couple of aspirin, okay?”

  “The fireworks haven’t even started yet. Are you sure you don’t want to tough it out a little longer?”

  “No, I’m out of here.” Joe wasn’t worried about missing the show. If he found anything at the lake, the real fireworks wouldn’t start until he got back.

  19

  Teddy and Heath located Grace just before the fireworks began. Kennedy let them sit with her because he knew they’d beg him until he relented, even if he tried to say no. She reminded them too much of their mother. In most ways, Grace and Raelynn were very different people, but they both had a gentle way with children. Like Raelynn, Grace didn’t talk down to Teddy or Heath, or act as though they were a bother. She was genuinely interested in what they had to say. And they thrived on the attention.

  After the fight with Joe, Kennedy would’ve preferred to let the gossip die down before allowing Teddy and Heath to associate with Grace again. Lord knew he’d given the Vincellis sufficient fodder for their campaign against him. But Grace would be gone after the summer ended. How could he deny his boys the chance to enjoy her company while she was here?

  Heck, he wanted to be with her, too. He’d tried to convince himself that a few hours in her arms would be enough. But what they’d shared last night only made the situation that much more difficult. Now he had a slew of erotic images to contend with, images that burst upon his mind when he least expected it. Grace eagerly meeting his thrusts as they made love. Grace’s satiated smile as he ran his fingers along the curves of her body. Grace’s eyelashes resting against her cheeks as she lay peacefully in his arms. He might have broken down and gone over to the Montgomery blanket himself, except his parents had joined him, with some of their close friends and neighbors.

  “So are we going to have the funds to build that new wing at the elementary school this year?” Tom Greenwood asked Kennedy’s father. They’d been talking about town business for a few minutes. Usually this interested Kennedy. He had strong opinions on what should happen with the school, plenty to say. But tonight he could think only of Grace and how or when he might be able to get his hands on her again.

  Glancing toward her for probably the millionth time, he saw her smooth Teddy’s hair off his forehead and wished he could move closer. But then he caught his mother watching him and quickly looked away.

  “It’s a possibility,” Otis was saying. “But I’m still not convinced we shouldn’t start over. That building is getting too old.”

  “You’re talking about more money, money we don’t have.”

  “In the long run, it’ll be cheaper than sinking a hundred and fifty thousand into that old school.”

  “So where would you build? On the Corte property?”

  “No, that’s too far out of town.” Otis started naming possible sites, enumerating the pros and cons of each, but Kennedy just pretended to listen. He wasn’t interested in any issues right now. He was only interested in Grace.

  A boom signaled the beginning of the show. Conscious of his mother’s attention, Kennedy stretched out on the blanket and watched several fireworks explode in the sky. The kids around him gasped at the shimmering display of red and blue. But as soon as his mother entered his father’s conversation with Tom, Kennedy’s eyes drifted back to Grace.

  She was lying between Teddy and Heath, gazing skyward.

  Kennedy remembered the smell of her, the smooth texture of her skin, and knew he’d been more than crazy to believe last night would solve anything. He still wanted her, more than ever.

  Go home, Kennedy. We both knew it could only last unt
il morning….

  Had she meant it?

  “What about the middle school?” he heard his mother say to Tom and Otis. “That needs repairs, too. I hear the roof’s leaking in several places….”

  The little boy on the next blanket moved, blocking Kennedy’s view of Grace. He shifted to compensate, and found her looking right at him. And then he knew. Whatever was happening between them wasn’t over yet. The longing in her face told him she felt the same driving need to be close, to kiss deeply, to touch.

  “How do you like the show, Kennedy?” his mother asked.

  Kennedy pulled his gaze away. “It’s great,” he said. But he wasn’t thinking about the Fourth of July. He was thinking about buying more condoms. Several boxes. He and Grace had most of the summer. They’d be foolish to waste it.

  Camille leaned forward. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I’m fine,” he said. But he wasn’t so sure. He was imagining how he’d feel when it was time for Grace to leave. Would he be able to give her up?

  Of course he would, he told himself. He’d have to.

  Grace breathed in the scent of baby shampoo that lingered in Teddy’s hair. He and Heath felt so perfect in her arms. Teddy’s face was sticky from the cotton candy he’d eaten earlier. And they wiggled a lot, which made Madeline complain. But Grace couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be than sandwiched between them.

  Unless it was with Kennedy. She wanted him there, too. But she was trying hard not to show it. By downplaying their relationship, she hoped to take away Joe’s power. If they didn’t appear too interested in each other, it probably wouldn’t matter so much that they’d been together once or twice. Kennedy was a widower. He had to get lonely. A brief affair to assuage that loneliness was completely forgivable—especially, in a community as misogynistic as Stillwater—for a man.

  As long as this town didn’t perceive her as a threat to Kennedy’s heart, she figured he might still be able to win the election. Provided everything calmed down. But in order for that to happen, she and Kennedy needed to keep their distance.

  “Kennedy’s watching you again,” her mother murmured gleefully.

  Grace kissed Heath’s head, then smiled at the fireworks bursting across the sky. She didn’t think she’d ever been so happy, at least not since before her mother had married the reverend. Only Molly was missing. If Molly were here, she’d want the show to last forever.

  “He doesn’t make any secret about what he wants, does he?” Madeline’s girlish giggle was infectious. “He acts like he can’t take his eyes off you.”

  “He’s just checking on the boys,” Grace said.

  Irene shook her head. “No, he’s not.”

  “If Kirk ever looked at me that way, I think I would marry him,” Madeline said dreamily.

  “Who’s looking at you?” Teddy asked, finally tuning in.

  “No one,” Grace replied. But Heath answered at the same time.

  “Dad.”

  Obviously Kennedy’s oldest had picked up more than Grace had realized. She made a surprised face at Madeline over his head.

  “He thinks she’s pretty,” he said.

  “Maybe he’ll marry you!” Teddy chimed in.

  “No, we’re just friends,” she said. She knew that could never happen. But she had this moment. For now it was enough. Or so she believed until the fireworks were over. Then she felt strangely bereft as she kissed Teddy and Heath goodbye.

  As they ran to their father, she forced herself to turn away. But Kennedy bumped into her as everyone jostled to get out of the stadium, and thrust part of a napkin into her hand.

  She shoved it in the pocket of her skirt without response. The Vincellis were on her left, glaring at her. But the moment Madeline dropped her off, she hurried into her house, pulled the napkin out and opened it.

  Come over, it said.

  It was after midnight. Grace held a glass of wine in one hand and Kennedy’s brief summons in the other. She’d been telling herself for hours that she wouldn’t go. They had an understanding. Last night was supposed to be their only concession to how they felt. She knew she’d be doing Kennedy and his boys a favor by refusing to continue the relationship. She also knew she probably didn’t have enough willpower. Last night didn’t feel like the end. It felt like the beginning.

  The clock chimed twelve-thirty, jerking her out of her thoughts. She was going, and she knew it. No use prolonging the wait. But she’d have to be careful. Joe seemed to be keeping a close eye on her place. If he was out there somewhere, waiting as he’d been waiting last night, she certainly didn’t want him to know where she was going.

  Gathering her purse and keys, she walked outside and circled the house. No one skulked about in the garden or the garage. No one lurked in the drive. She even sat in her car for a few minutes to see if his truck went by.

  Firecrackers popped a few streets over, a little late celebrating. But there was no sign of Joe.

  He couldn’t spy on her twenty-four seven; he had to sleep sometime. With his face so badly injured, he was no doubt home in bed.

  Chastising herself for being paranoid, she started her car and pulled into the street. She wouldn’t park at Kennedy’s, she decided. She’d leave her car a few blocks away and walk.

  Kennedy’s house was rather intimidating. Perfectly restored, it had three stories with a turret and a gabled roof. It was by far the best in Stillwater—the town’s only historic building, besides the old post office.

  Grace felt as though she had no right to venture inside. She almost turned back three times as she advanced toward the wide verandah. Maybe Raelynn had passed on, but this was still her house, her man, her children.

  The voices of Kennedy’s friends echoed in Grace’s mind. Hey, babe, come and give me a little sugar…You know what I like.

  Biting her lip, she lowered the hand she’d just raised to knock. What had she been thinking? She had no business here.

  She hurried down the steps. But a click behind her indicated someone had opened the door.

  “You weren’t going to knock?” Kennedy asked.

  Silently cursing the weak will that had brought her here in the first place, she pivoted on the flagstone path leading through the tulips and irises of Kennedy’s parklike yard. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “I wasn’t asleep.”

  A car passed on the road. Grace held her breath until she could be sure it wasn’t Joe.

  “What’s wrong?” Kennedy asked.

  “This place…changes things,” she replied.

  The deep shadows made it difficult to read his expression. “How?”

  “I don’t feel comfortable here.”

  He studied her. “Why not? I don’t think you’ve been over before, have you?”

  “I went by this place a lot. I can still remember seeing you and your friends celebrating Lacy Baumgarter’s sixteenth birthday party right there.” She motioned to the side yard. “I was on my way to the pizza parlor. You were pushing the girls on the tree swing.”

  He said nothing.

  She cleared her throat. “Anyway, it reminds me of all the reasons we don’t belong together.”

  “I would’ve come over to Evonne’s, but I can’t leave the boys alone,” he said.

  “I know.”

  “Does that mean you’re not coming in?”

  “I can’t.”

  Stepping outside, he closed the door quietly behind him. “Grace…”

  “What?”

  He strode down the path. He was wearing nothing but a pair of blue jeans, and she tried not to let her eyes linger on his bare torso.

  “I’d really like you to come in,” he said softly.

  She shook her head, gazing beyond him, at the house.

  He lifted her hands and kissed her fingertips. “I think you’d like the place, once you got used to it.”

  “You hurt your hand last night,” she said as she noticed the swelling.

  “Not too bad. Th
e doctor said it’ll be fine in a week or so.”

  “That’s good.”

  He tried to tug her toward the door, but she resisted. “Come on, Grace. What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t want to make love to you with you wishing I was Raelynn,” she admitted.

  Dropping her hands, he scowled at her. “I don’t want you to be anyone other than who you are.”

  When she didn’t respond, he put his arms around her and pressed his lips to her temple. “That party wasn’t as much fun as it looked,” he whispered. “None of them were.”

  She nodded. “We’re just so different, Kennedy.”

  “Who says?”

  Everyone knew it. She’d lived it.

  “Come on,” he said and led her onto the lawn.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked in surprise.

  He pointed to the old tree swing. “It’s your turn.”

  Still bent on leaving, Grace hesitated. But the envy she’d felt all those years ago kept her where she was, and the expectant look on Kennedy’s face convinced her. Sitting in the swing, she held on to the ropes as he started to push.

  The chair creaked as he sent her flying higher and higher. With each lift of her stomach, Grace’s heart raced with exhilaration.

  Closing her eyes, she smiled at the heady sensation of Kennedy’s firm hands helping her sail through space. Difficult though it was to believe, the girl who’d been the laughingstock of the whole town had finally been invited to the party.

  By none other than the prince himself.

  The inside of Kennedy’s house was as elegant as the outside. Expensive furniture and paintings filled room after room. Persian rugs covered richly polished hardwood floors. Crown molding lined the ceiling. And there were plenty of built-in cabinets and shelves.

  Grace began to feel out of place again as he walked her through the parlor, the living room, the sitting room and the kitchen. Especially when she saw the family portrait hanging in the dining room. But Kennedy held on to her the whole time, as if he sensed that she might bolt.

 

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