Small Town Secrets

by Allie Harrison

  Tony grinned. “Yes, but it’s not what you think.”

  “Oh, what do I think?”

  “You think we’re cheating behind his back.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  Tony was quiet for a long moment as he stared out the window before him. “Hell,” he said finally, “I haven’t lied to you. Ever. I’m not going to start now. The truth is Dane and Tiffany and I have been lovers for years.”

  It was another shock Mac had to tuck down under his belt and work to keep from showing on his face.

  “Dane and Tiff got married instead of me and Tiff because his parents accepted our threesome better. If I had married Tiffany, my parents would have expected…I don’t know, something more traditional. If I had married Dane, my father would have disowned me. This way, I maintain my apartment, which makes me the perfect bachelor too busy to get married. I spend a lot of time over here with them. I even have my own room. I’ll be honest, I’d love to skip down the street with both of us holding Tiff’s hands. I don’t think the town is ready for that. Even though the two of them say they don’t care what anyone else thinks, I have two businesses in this town, and my sister owns half of one. I won’t chance that.”

  He paused and took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his words were filled with tight emotion. “And I’d love to take them both to Florida and spend Christmas with my parents, but I don’t think my parents are any readier for that than the town is. So right now, just like long ago when my friendship with you was enough, this has to be enough. And if you want to go out and blab it around and let my secret out, go ahead. I won’t try and stop you. But I sure hope you don’t.”

  Mac had to remember to breathe. “Your secret’s safe with me. Does Lizzy know?”

  “We’ve never talked about it, but she knows me better than anyone. She always refers to Dane and Tiff as my friends, and for the past several years, she bought Christmas presents for them.”

  Again, they sat as quiet seconds ticked by, and Mac digested all this new information. This was certainly a small-town secret that sent him for a loop even though it didn’t send him in any new direction to help him solve his cold case. Hell, he’d had no idea Tony had an attraction to him. Had Tony even been perhaps jealous of his own sister because Mac had asked her to the dance? Perhaps that was a question better left unanswered. Still, Tony had done a damned fine job of hiding his feelings.

  “Anything else you want to know, Mac?”

  Not trusting his voice just then, he only shook his head. Then something did come to him. “You know IT. Do you know how to find people?”

  Tony grinned. “I managed to stay in touch with you, didn’t I?”

  “I know everyone says Stan’s dad ran off, probably to Florida, probably found a new girlfriend. Everyone, especially Stan’s mom, was happy to see him gone. He left that fall after Kelly’s murder. If you really want to help, see if you can track him down. George Hattersfield and Marvin Wellsburg, as well as Stan’s dad, left within a year of the murder. I want to be able to cross them off the list.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out. Later. You can even give me your whole list of names if you want. As for now, would you like to come inside for supper? Tiff’s made a big pan of lasagna and garlic bread that will melt in your mouth.”

  Mac thought about it, then returned Tony’s grin. “Lasagna sounds great. Thanks.”

  He started to climb out of the truck, but Tony’s hand on his arm stopped him. “The town may not be able to handle my lifestyle or the fact I can and do love two people, but I don’t let it stop me from loving them or from being with them. I work around it. If Kelly’s murder taught me anything, it was that I don’t want to waste a single moment. You shouldn’t either. I think you and my sister have wasted enough time. I’m tired of watching her wander around, searching for someone who makes her feel the way she felt about you.”

  “She’s with Stan.” Each word felt like a knife slicing open his gut.

  “I doubt she’s ever been with Stan. And as of today, not at all. After she cleaned up a few things in the kitchen, she was heading to his shop to break things off. She said even if things didn’t work out with you, she could never live a lie with him.” Tony looked Mac straight in the eye. “Quit wasting time.”

  Chapter Ten

  After preparing the dough for tomorrow’s pastries and crusts, getting the bakery in order, checking inventory, making an order list, and cleaning the kitchen, Lizzy was ready to put her feet up and have a light supper. She had the ingredients ready for tomorrow’s Caesar chicken wraps. They weren’t the usual bakery offerings, but people who stopped in for coffee or tea didn’t always want a donut or a cruller. She could fix herself a chicken wrap. That’d be easy and light. Then maybe a bubble bath.

  Only then would she allow herself to think about Mac. She had to make a decision—trust him again or forget him.

  She already discovered she couldn’t forget him.

  First she needed to do the one thing that had plagued her the entire day: letting Stan off the hook. It wasn’t that she’d put it off all day. She simply needed to wait until everything else was finished so she could make it a priority. And he hadn’t forced her hand by coming into the coffee shop as he usually did.

  Now she had no excuse. She had the feeling he knew it was coming; he hadn’t texted or called her all day. Truth be told, she hadn’t noticed he’d never sent his usual hi text, complete with smiley face, until she checked her phone just now.

  She didn’t want to text him to let him know she was coming. She set out walking, soaking up the fall sunshine, and allowed the fresh air to clear her mind. As she made her way the two blocks up Main Street to Stan’s shop, she ran into his brother.

  “Hi, Elliot.”

  For some reason, she was relieved to meet Elliot here on the sidewalk and not at the shop. It was bad enough this conversation had to happen at all. She didn’t need an audience. And Elliot would probably have his own input—another thing she didn’t need because he liked her and Stan together. He wouldn’t understand her reasons for the break up.

  “Lizzy! Hi!”

  “Is Stan still at the shop?”

  “Yeah. He said he was going to feed all the cats before he locked up. He sent me home to help Mom with supper. He knows taco night is my favorite.”

  “Sounds yummy.”

  “You could come eat with us if you want. We always have enough for lots of tacos.”

  “Maybe some other time.” Probably never after I tell Stan we’re only going to be friends. She tried to smile. “But thanks.”

  “Okay. See you later.”

  “See you.” Lizzy watched him lumber off, happily heading home for his favorite meal. A moment later, she stepped onto the pavement in front of Stan’s body shop. The big sign out front said Gresden’s Body Work and Detailing.

  The two overhead garage doors were up.

  The smell of paint, something like burning metal, and other indefinable chemicals touched her before she stepped into the shade inside them. “Stan?”

  No answer.

  It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim after being out in the late afternoon sunlight. She blinked and looked around. In the far corner, four cats sat eating from dishes filled with what was obviously cat food. “Stan?”

  Still no answer.

  She didn’t come here often, but she’d been inside the building a few times, enough to know where the office was. She headed there now, the lingering chemical smells burning her nose, her sneakers barely making a sound on the concrete floor. She carefully watched where she stepped. She knew Elliot did his best to sweep and clean. She also knew anything dropped on the floor—metal shavings, paint thinner, or whatever—would be slippery.

  The door to the office was ahead of her in the corner of the building across from the work area. The top half of the door was beveled glass, rippled in such a way that it would let in light. She, however, could not see into the office beyond the black let
ters that stated Office.

  “Stan?” She knocked lightly before she grasped the knob, turned it, and entered.

  Seeing him seated beside his desk with a cat in his hand was surprising enough. While he was thought of as the crazy cat man, at least by Elliot, she hadn’t really ever seen him as a “cat person” at all. And seeing him sitting there with a yellow striped cat in one hand, his fingers around the cat’s neck, stopped her in her tracks.

  He was choking the cat. Squeezing, squeezing, ignoring the way the cat clawed at his hand and wrist, and equally ignoring the blood from the scratches.

  His fly was open. With his free hand, he stroked himself while he choked the cat.

  His eyes were closed. His groans filled the small space. So lost in his actions, he didn’t seem to know she’d stepped into his office, didn’t know she was there.

  Until she let out a gasp.

  His eyes flew open.

  He stared at her for a long moment as if he didn’t recognize her. He didn’t seem to know where he was. And he certainly wasn’t like the soft-spoken Stan she knew, the one who always offered her a smile and folded his napkin when he finished his coffee. His face was red. The veins of his neck bulged. He gritted his teeth, and in the grimace, she saw almost all of them. He was like a hideous Halloween monster showing his teeth. In his hand, the cat still struggled like mad, scratching the hell out his arm and letting out little huffing sounds as Stan squeezed it. Blood from all the scratches dripped to his desk.

  As Lizzy took this all in, lasting perhaps two heartbeats, Stan hurled the cat across the room.

  The action and the sound of the poor animal colliding with the wall shook her out of whatever shock held her in place. Lizzy raced toward the door. She got in two steps and managed to get her hand around the door knob of the office door before he grabbed her and swung her around. As he shoved her against the wall, the sounds of shattering glass registered.

  The body slam knocked the wind from her lungs, left her gasping for a breath. Then his hands were on her throat.

  Time seemed to slow. Perhaps it even stopped. She didn’t know. Maybe the world stopped revolving around the sun. In the one breath she managed before his hands cut off her air, the copper scent of the blood on his hand burned her nose. Her chest felt as if it were on fire. His hands were slick and hot on her throat. His breath was equally as warm on her face; its acid scent caused her stomach to roil.

  She saw rage in his eyes, on his face. He wanted to kill her. In that slow-motion instant of clarity, she saw his fly was still open. His erection… Oh, God.

  “I saw you with him out by Marston’s Tunnel, you fucking slut. What were you doing, reliving old times out there? You’ve never kissed me like that. Never.”

  Black spots danced before her eyes. Linked with the need to breathe, instinct took hold. It may have been years since she’d taken a self-defense class, it might have been yesterday. Later, she would be surprised at just how efficiently and quickly it all rushed back.

  She heard the voice of Jace Wittemeyer, the instructor, inside her head. Tuck the chin. Make hooks with both hands. Pluck the attackers hands away in a snappy motion. Do it now! Don’t hesitate! End the threat! Then make sure he can’t attack you again!

  Her actions took him by surprise. Stan was still crazed, making her wonder if he’d taken something or smoked something. His breaths came in puffs and sounded much like those of the cat he’d choked, only louder. Other self-defense instructions poured through her mind like a swift river. Target areas… She popped him in the nose with the palm of her hand. Less than a second later, she hit him in the throat, just as she’d been taught.

  He gasped and still held her, but his grip loosened. She sent her palm upward under his chin, snapping his head back. Beneath the sound of huffing breaths, she heard his teeth snap together with a loud click. It was enough to send him a few steps backward. She saw again his fly was still open. Her kick landed squarely there, on what was obviously a lonely boy covered with petroleum jelly.

  He sucked in air, sounding like he’d just broke the surface of the water after being at the bottom of the ocean.

  Before he could recover, she used the heel of one foot to deliver another kick to his left knee, the wounded one that caused him to lose his athletic scholarship. It sent him to the floor, but he didn’t seem to notice as he stared up at her, cupping himself with his monster hands.

  Lizzy tried to run but discovered the message didn’t make it to her brain. She slid down the wall and stared at the man before her in disbelief. The breath she forced into her lungs was heavy and loud. It seemed to be what she needed so she took another. Then she clumsily scrambled to her feet and ran.

  Chapter Eleven

  After enjoying supper with Tiffany, Antonio, and Dane, Mac headed home. The lasagna had been everything Tony promised it would be, and the garlic bread really did melt in his mouth. The company, the memories they shared, and the wine felt like icing on a fun birthday cake. It left him questioning what he was really doing in Mossy Point.

  This was home. This was what was important—friends, conversation, good times. Perhaps it might be best if he left the dead buried in the cemetery and simply concentrated on the here and now and living. The only thing missing from the dinner he’d just enjoyed had been Lizzy sitting next to him. And it wasn’t as if he had any new clues in the cold case of Kelly Mattis.

  He wondered how Lizzy’s break up with Stan had gone. He wondered if he had a chance. He wondered if it was even wise of him to consider it.

  Mac slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting a woman who suddenly barreled out from between two parked cars. The rear wheels of his truck didn’t stop at the same time as the front ones, causing the rear of his truck to fishtail to the right. The last time he’d felt so out of control while driving, there had been seven inches of snow and ice covering the highway. His heart lurched in his chest.

  Then he recognized her. He was going to run over Lizzy! Somehow, he managed to get control of the truck and stopped.

  Lizzy, however, didn’t. She ran into the hood, bounced back, and landed on her perfect ass on the grass just beyond the curb.

  In the next second, he was out of the truck and at her side. Her wild eyes showed a mixture of terror and disbelief. Before he could stop her, hell, before he could reach her, she scrambled to her feet and tried to run.

  He caught her by the arm. “Lizzy!”

  Screaming, she swung her free hand and cuffed him on the side of the face, sending his thoughts and his world spinning. It took a good two or three seconds to regain control, but he managed to keep his hold on her. All the while, she kept screaming, “No! No!”

  When she swung at him again, he caught both wrists, hugging her back against him in a firm defensive hold. “It’s me. It’s Mac. Listen to my voice. It’s me. I won’t hurt you.”

  His words must have seeped through her obvious terror. “Mac?”

  “Yes.”

  She sagged against him. Her breath loud and heaving. She trembled in his arms. His face smarted like a son of a bitch from where she’d socked him.

  Beyond Lizzy, he saw that the woman who lived in the white house across the street stood on her porch, obviously drawn to the sounds of his squealing tires and the yelling. He recognized her and yelled, “Mrs. Cooper, call 9-1-1.”

  She nodded and hurried into the house. He turned his attention to the woman still in his arms. “Lizzy, what the hell happened?”

  “Stan…Stan…”

  He let go of her wrists but noticed immediately she wobbled on her feet. He turned her to face him and kept her upright by holding onto her arms. He saw the blood, then the vivid purple fingerprints on her throat. Rage burned through him like an erupting volcano. He’d kill that bastard.

  “Stan did this to you? Whose blood is this?”

  “It’s his,” she let out.

  “He choked you?”

  “Yes, but I…I got out of his hold. I hit him and kicked him.�
��

  “He attacked you because you broke up with him?”

  “I…it never got that far.”

  Breathing like a freight train, she doubled over and covered her face with both hands. The change in stance revealed more bruises on her neck. He forced himself to think rationally. Right now Lizzy’s needs superceded the urge to find Stan and land a few bruises of his own.

  “I went to tell him I wasn’t going out with him anymore,” she said slowly. “I caught him jacking off in the office.”

  “What?”

  Her words came out in a gush, filled with terror and shock and wonder—like it really didn’t happen but evidence proved it had. “Mac, I saw him strangling a cat. Then he tried to strangle me. I thought he was going to kill me. He said he saw us. Up by the tunnel, kissing. He was so filled with rage. I’ve never seen him like that.”

  While Mac held Lizzy close, swallowing the rage over what happened to her, Officer Jake Swornson brought his police cruiser to a skidding stop, lights and siren blaring.

  ****

  It was after midnight before Tony noticed he had a new voice mail from his sister. Within minutes, he dressed, kissed his lovers good-bye, jogged to his nearby apartment to his car, and sped to Mac’s small loft apartment over the barn at the orchard.

  Mac was waiting. He opened the door and placed his index finger against his lips in the universal sign to stay quiet. Mac stepped aside to reveal Lizzy tucked into the bed in the far corner, sleeping soundly. With another hand motion, Mac indicated he should follow.

  Pausing to grab two bottles of beer from a small fridge, Mac led him through the small apartment to a tiny balcony on the far end where two lawn chairs sat. Tony wondered if the structure would hold their weight because of the creaking sounds when they stepped out, but Mac didn’t seem to be worried.