Small Town Secrets

by Allie Harrison

  Tears began to slide down her cheeks like lightning bolts. He stared at them. How was he supposed to heal or find answers and do his job when a tear on her cheek felt worse than the bullet that had pierced his leg? Shit, he didn’t need this. He didn’t need these dormant feelings rising to the surface. Not now.

  “That I ha—” She stopped and hastily wiped the tears from her face. “God, I can’t even tell you how much I hate you. I’m so stupid.”

  She started to turn away as if she planned to head to her car and leave. Mac grabbed her by her arm and forced her to face him. In the next heartbeat, she was in his arms, her entire body crushed against his, the side of her face against his chest where she could surely hear his heart racing. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling like things were right in the world for the first time since the first bullet slammed into his leg, feeling right and perfect like hiking through his dad’s orchard.

  She stood there for a moment with nothing but the sounds of her breathing mixing in with the sounds of the insects in the trees that surrounded them. Then she struggled against him. “No! No! I’m not falling for this again. I’m not—”

  He refused to let her go. “It did start out as a dare. And it became so much more, something I wasn’t sorry I took. I never used you. Never, Lizzy. Of that, I promise. I wish I could change that night, too, and get rid of the cloud that hangs over the town, but I can’t. You say you thank Kelly. I hate her, too. She has invaded my life in ways you can’t imagine, in ways I can’t share with you. And I did write you letters. Starting the day after graduation. That was my closure.”

  At least he’d thought it was. Apparently it hadn’t been enough when bullets slammed into him.

  “While we were in school that last year, I at least got to see you, got to see you as I passed you in the hall.”

  Strange how nature around them was so normal—insects and birds chirping when he was trying to put things into perspective and one of their classmates had died a horrid, untimely death a few yards away.

  “And you probably didn’t know that I’d sneak a candy bar or something into your locker. After school ended, I knew I wouldn’t have that anymore. So I started the letters. Sometimes it was only one a week, other times it might be three or four that I mailed to your house. They said everything from please write me back to I’m thinking about you, to four or five pages of every single thing I did in the previous two days. It was a whole crazy journal of a year of my life, my way of summing it up. A year of hell where every day I anticipated as well as dreaded opening my mail box.”

  He met her gaze, her emerald eyes were shiny. He saw determination and perhaps a bit of anger etched into her expression. He forced in a breath and felt her breasts against him with the action. Amazing, he thought. After all the time apart, his want for her was so much stronger, a thousand times stronger. Unbelievable, but so true.

  If there was one thing he’d learned while his leg and side were bleeding, it was never to waste a moment. He leaned down and touched his lips to hers. Not too gently. Not forceful. Just needful. Her kiss was…good. It felt right, like being back in town, like breathing fresh, apple air.

  She let out a sob that he mistook as a moan and slipped away from him before he could stop her a second time. “No…” She sounded like a wounded animal. “No, I will not fall for this again.” She backed away. “Stay away from me. Leave me alone. And stay out of my bakery.”

  This time he let her go, and he let her grasp the door handle of her car before he spoke. “Ask your parents about my letters, Lizzy.”

  She paused enough to let him know his words hit her. Then she got into her car, slammed the door, started it, and left.

  Mac stood where he was for a long moment, allowing his heart to return to normal as he listened to the sounds of insects and birds in the trees.

  How long he stood there, he wasn’t certain.

  What he was certain of was that the insects in the woods over his left shoulder grew quiet. Then he again heard the sound of a twig breaking beneath a foot. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and his breath caught as he was on instant alert, ready with his gun in his hand. He scanned the woods for several long seconds but saw no one. He searched and waited and studied until the chirps of the crickets returned. He never relaxed.

  Someone had been there. Watching.

  Someone had probably seen him with Lizzy. Shit.

  Someone had seen him with his gun in his hand. Shit.

  Maybe it was just a kid or a group of boys out exploring the woods, feeling courageous, getting close to Marston’s Tunnel as he and his friends had done growing up. No, he would have heard the laughter of boys if that were the case.

  Chapter Five

  In the loft apartment above the bakery where Lizzy now called home, she paced.

  No more tears, she told herself. She was too enraged to cry anyway. She paused only long enough to take a drink of the wine she’d poured into a tumbler because she hadn’t taken the time to search out a wine glass.

  Letters.

  He’d written her letters. Good God, she’d gone all this time believing he’d used her, that she was nothing more than a notch—almost—on his headboard. Now she didn’t know who to be angry at more: herself or her parents. Or perhaps Tony, if he’d known about the letters, too. She no longer hated Mac.

  Maybe she did hate him. For stepping back into her life, for making her want him again.

  And she hadn’t even gotten the chance to ask him why he was there or what he was doing in the tunnel.

  Hell, she didn’t know anyone who ventured into that place. Ever. Except Kelly Mattis. And whoever killed her.

  Her lips still sizzled with something close to an electrical current. The only positive thing about the day was that she’d managed to get pies and pastries ready for tomorrow before her little trek to the outskirts of town.

  Marston’s Tunnel.

  She hadn’t even been to that side of town since the night of the dance.

  What had she been thinking?

  When she spotted him driving through town near the end of the day, she’d followed him. She wasn’t even sure why. It was as if he had some sort of homing device, and she was called to follow him. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t some infatuated teenager anymore. She told herself she only followed him so she could tell him to go to hell and she could gain her closure. When she saw him head to the tunnel, she stopped at a distance and watched him go inside.

  What the hell was he thinking going in there? Only murderers and victims dared enter that place. Them and a few ghosts, too.

  She’d been dumb enough to think he might want to go to the spot where they’d parked all those years ago to seek some sort of closure like she’d wanted. From where she’d watched him, he hadn’t given their parking spot more than a glance before he purposefully entered the tunnel.

  She should have left him there, but she found herself slightly miffed that the tunnel held more call than the place not too far away where she’d nearly handed him her virginity on a silver platter. And she’d followed him, parking next to his truck and getting out of her car.

  She told herself it was to see why he was in the tunnel—at least she tried to convince herself of that. Seeing Mac down there, where Kelly Mattis had been killed, just standing as if he searched for something, left more questions. And she hadn’t gained closure or learned what he was doing there. Their conversation wasn’t anything close to what she’d planned.

  Then he kissed her, leaving her as far from any kind of closure as she could possibly be.

  Damn him.

  Letters.

  She swallowed a big gulp of wine, felt it slide down to her stomach, felt a hint of warmth come with it. Then the heat was gone as if it couldn’t penetrate the cold emptiness filling her.

  She’d waited long enough. Anger and emptiness would never be washed down with any amount of wine. Grabbing her phone from the nearby counter, she dialed her mom in Florida. It was an
hour later in Florida, but she didn’t care. Her parents no longer had to go to bed early—like she now did—in order to get up to have the bakery ready.

  “Mom?”

  “Hi, honey.” When Lizzy said nothing, her mother went on. “Is everything all right?”

  “No—yes. Everything’s fine.” It felt like the biggest lie she’d ever told her mother. “I called because I have to ask you…”

  “I already know what this is about.”

  That would certainly make this easier, Lizzy thought. “You do?”

  “Antonio called to let me know that Mac—James McLane—was back in town.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes. And Lizzy, I know how you’ve pined for him.”

  “I haven’t pined for him. Only young, naive girls pine for guys.” She refused to be one of those.

  “I know how you’ve never really gotten over him, never let anyone else even close to your heart.”

  Maybe this wasn’t going to be easy. “How could you possibly know? I…” Lizzy thought she’d done a good job burying her true feelings, hiding them even from herself, and keeping herself numb for so long it was hard to feel anything while she always forced a smile on her face. She hadn’t even known how far from being over Mac she was until he’d stepped into her bakery today.

  “A mother knows. A mother feels what her children feel. Someday you’ll know.”

  Not at this rate, Lizzy thought. There wasn’t anyone she thought qualified to be the father of any children she might produce. Except Mac.

  She cut that thought off with a sudden, sharp, mental sword. The very last thing she needed was to think about any children and Mac in the same thought wavelength. She needed to get back to the subject at hand quick, before she managed to think any other stupid, useless thoughts.

  “He said he wrote me letters, Mama.”

  Her mother’s silence confirmed the truth.

  Lizzy felt deflated as well as defeated as she let her breath out in a whoosh. “Oh, Mom…”

  “At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. That young man had taken you out somewhere with the plans to have his way with you. This, I might add, in the eyes of a parent, is a very dangerous thing. And he placed you in an even more dangerous place, just a few yards from a murder. What would you expect? Your father and I only wanted to protect you and keep you safe. It’s what parents do. Protect their children.”

  “I know that. Mom, we’re talking a lot of letters here.”

  “Yes, I know. I had to switch boxes to something bigger three times.”

  Bloody hell. “This is my life, Mom.”

  “Yes, and I’m so sorry, my darling. You don’t know how many times I wanted to tell you. At first, I considered just throwing them away when they arrived. Yet that didn’t seem like the right thing to do. Then, as time went on, it got harder and harder to tell you. And you were in college, making new friends. You were seeing that young man. What was his name? Eric?”

  It was a good thing her mother remembered, because Lizzy would have had to think about it for a while, which was a clear indication as to the lasting impression the guy had made on her.

  “And we thought you were over that time of your life. After all, you were so busy with school and the bakery. You spent every moment learning everything your father and I knew about pastries and pies and bread and the perfect cake icing. And then the letters stopped. To tell you the truth, I kind of forgot about them until today when your brother called.”

  Lizzy closed her eyes, feeling as if someone just socked her in the stomach. Forgot. If only she had been able to forget so easily. She’d poured her soul and her energy into work and class in order to forget. And she had forgotten with time. Until today when he stepped into her bakery. Until he kissed her. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he sucked her brain out with that kiss. Then everything she thought she’d managed to forget shot down through her like a bolt of lightning. Now she had to work to find her voice. “Where are they, Mom?”

  If her mother said they were destroyed, Lizzy would be destroyed, too. “They are in the storage locker where your dad put all the old equipment he was afraid to get rid of. They’re in a box labeled papers.”

  She let out a breath of relief. “I’ll talk to you again tomorrow.”

  “Lizzy—”

  “I love you, Mom.” She hung up before her mother said another word.

  The air smelled of rain, and it made her quicken her steps. It was bad enough she was retrieving letters she didn’t know until now even existed. She didn’t need them to be soggy and ink smeared, too. In the night breeze, minus the sun, the damp air sent shivers through her as she rushed to her car. Maybe she should leave them be, leave the past where it was—in the past. All this time, she’d thought he used her. The truth was in his letters. And she deserved to know the truth.

  Chapter Six

  An array of lights filled the town. From the viewpoint on top of the water tower, it looked like Christmas.

  “This is still such a fun i-i-idea,” Elliot said.

  “Yes, it is,” Mac agreed. He hadn’t really planned to climb to the top of the tower. He wasn’t so much working undercover, just searching for answers. His leg did the climb okay. It wasn’t a hundred percent, probably wasn’t even close to eighty, but no one saw his need to pause, either. And he hadn’t realized until he sat down on the narrow catwalk at the top, hung his arms over the single-cable meant to be a railing, and took in his town from this vantage point just how much he’d missed this.

  People driving, people moving, a woman with a baby stroller, Mrs. Strayton—even after ten years—still walking her dog. Oh, wait, it was a different dog. Even from this height in the dusk, he could see it was a lighter colored animal than what he remembered.

  Down the street, a girl decorated the inside of the pharmacy window with pumpkins, orange and purple lights, and Halloween decorations. Halloween? Hell, we aren’t even to the middle of September yet. On the next block, a guy changed letters on the sign of the fast food place, advertising Coffee $1 Every Day. The coffee may be cheap, but he knew the place had nothing on Lizzy’s apple pie. On the next block, smokers congregated out the front door of the Streetside Bar, their lit cigarettes flickering through the dusk like red Christmas tree lights as they puffed.

  Elliot sat on his left. Kyle Broden, another high school football jock, was on his right. Gary Fullerman and Tony Signorino took up space on the end.

  “Too bad Jake is on patrol,” Gary said, “and he can’t be up here with us.”

  “I don’t think he’s on patrol,” Kyle replied. “I think he’s on a coffee break, given he’s down there where he can get coffee for a dollar every day. Besides, I think he’s put on a few more pounds than the rest of us. He might not be able to climb the ladder.”

  A few chuckles filled the evening.

  Mac followed his gaze and saw the patrol car parked in the fast food parking lot.

  “Do you think they even ch-charge him?” Elliot asked.

  “It’s hard to say.” Tony’s voice was filled with humor but patience.

  Several moments passed, filled with idle chit-chat and typical catching up. Mac saw Stan climbing the ladder to them.

  “Where have you been?” Elliot asked when his brother finally sat down.

  He wasn’t quite huffing, but the climb was a workout for him. “I had some last-minute things to do at the shop.”

  “You did?” his brother asked. “You must have been doing them in the dark, because the shop was closed and dark when I walked past to come here.”

  “Forget it, Elliot.”

  Mac couldn’t help but notice the unusual irritation and impatience in Stan’s voice.

  They were all quiet for a few minutes as each took in the town below them.

  “What’s up with you, Mac? You’ve been awfully quiet all night,” Kyle noticed. “No cat calls, hardly any reminiscing. You haven’t even asked too many questions about the reunion
. And just where in the hell have you been for the last decade? It’s like you fell off the face of the earth.”

  Mac supposed Kyle was being polite, shifting the attention and changing the subject considering Elliot frowned like he might cry for a moment. Mac followed along with it, as he figured it was as good a time as any to pick his old friends’ brains. “I just wanted to get as far away from Kelly Mattis’s murder as I could get. You guys know in a few days, it’ll be exactly eleven years.”

  Again, they were all quiet, leaving Mac to think perhaps he should have waited a few days to say anything.

  “Damn, Mac, what’d you have to go and talk about that for?” Kyle asked. “I don’t need to be reminded of that time.”

  “Why not?” the question popped out before Mac thought to stop it.

  “Because that was a black spot in my entire senior year, that’s why.”

  That was an understatement, Mac thought as he remembered senior year. Now that he was on the subject, he might as well see it through. “How so?”

  “I used to take Torrie Aimes up to the tunnel almost every weekend that summer before our senior year. After that, she didn’t let me take her anywhere.”

  “You were doing Torrie Aimes?” Stan asked. “I don’t even remember you hanging out with her.”

  “Woooieeee,” Elliot let out with a laugh. He seemed to easily swing to a happy side after Stan’s reprimand. Maybe they just needed a completely different subject.

  “Hell, only once. All the other times it was just a lot of other stuff. Took me all summer to get around the bases with her. As soon as I did, she started bossing me around and insisted I get a suit for the dance. Then that thing with Kelly happened. After that, it all fizzled out real fast. And as I remember it, I think there were a lot of girls who weren’t going out at all. They were all staying at home or having parties at home. It seemed like every girl in town was on the buddy system after that and taking self-defense classes. Hell, everyone—not just the girls—was scared and apprehensive. What do you think, Mac? I mean, you kind of made the gruesome discovery. Doesn’t it bother you that you and Lizzy were that close? Why do you even want to think about it?”