Missed: Rafael and Lisa (Cliffside Bay Book 6)
Page 23
“She gets headaches if she doesn’t get enough sleep,” Rafael said.
“That’s new.” Mrs. Perry squinted, peering at her daughter. “Have you been taking your meds?”
“Of course.”
“Do you want me to get you something for your headache?” Rafael asked.
“There’s some painkiller in my bag.” Lisa lifted a limp arm and pointed to the bathroom.
“Young lady,” Mrs. Perry said, in a loud whisper that Rafael could hear perfectly as he searched for the pills, “what are you doing with this man?”
“I’m in love. He’s wonderful in every way. We fit together.”
“You’ve always hated to be alone. And Maggie and Pepper have their own lives and you’ve been left behind. Then with the trauma of the shooting and everything, you’ve latched onto a man who’s obviously not right for you.”
“He understands me and appreciates me. That’s all you need to know.”
He filled up a water glass and fetched the pills. Lisa’s plastic container with her meds was next to her toiletries bag. He paused for a split second, thinking about how hard she’d fought to manage her health. His chest ached with love. Here, in the presence of Mrs. Perry, his suspicions were proven correct. Lisa’s mother was as toxic as they come. The low self-esteem. Her constant apologies. He thought of the little girl in her seventh-grade photo. The way she gazed at the camera with shame and embarrassment in her eyes. The way her smile looked more like a grimace. He could cry like a baby right then and there for his sad, sweet, beautiful swan if he weren’t filled with rage. Screw you, Mrs. Perry.
Back in the room, he gave her water and pressed two pain pills in her hand, then kissed the top of her perfect head.
“Thank you.” She looked up into his eyes.
“You’re welcome, Stardust.”
Mrs. Perry perched on the chair and crossed her legs. She wore loose tan slacks and a white blouse with a pattern of red flowers. “We should discuss David before we go back to the house.”
“How is he?” Lisa asked.
Mrs. Perry let out the longest sigh ever delivered in the history of martyrdom. “I haven’t the faintest idea. I’ve taken care of the babies since it happened. Mind you, I’m not complaining. What else could I do but offer? Those precious children need me. Your brother’s been staying at his house alone. He took a leave of absence from work, so I don’t know what he’s doing all day. I smelled alcohol on his breath yesterday when I took him a tuna casserole. He had the nerve to send me away without taking the casserole. He flatly refused to have a gathering at his house after the memorial service. Her poor mother’s hosting. Even though that poor woman’s overwhelmed with grief.”
“We’ll go get him,” Lisa said.
“He has to be showered and dressed by noon. When I went by yesterday, it was clear he hadn’t shaven or showered since it happened. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mom, I understand.”
Rafael understood, too. Mrs. Perry could belittle her daughter until she needed her to rescue the golden boy.
Thirty minutes later, Rafael was in the driver’s seat with Lisa next to him. There was no need for GPS, Lisa had told him. She knew every square inch of this town.
The motel was at the edge of the city center. David’s house was in the other direction, several miles out of town. The downtown area of Rapid Falls seemed stuck in a time warp, circa 1950. Small businesses in brick buildings lined the street, shaded by large oaks. A clock tower hung over the courthouse building. If it hadn’t been for the modern cars, Rafael might have suspected they’d fallen through a wormhole.
Lisa rolled down her window when they stopped at a light in the middle of town. To the left, families were packed into a water park. Mothers, and a few fathers, sat on cement benches and watched as their children shouted with delight as they darted between feathery streams of water.
Right before the light turned green, he looked over at Lisa. She’d been quiet since they’d gotten rid of her mother. Now she gazed out the window at the children.
“Was that here when you were a kid?” he asked.
“They put it in when I was in high school. We used to go there sometimes at night, when everyone in this town was asleep.” She rolled up her window. “But mostly we hung out down by the lake.”
The lake. From which they’d pulled Marigold’s body. He pressed the gas, and they followed a yellow truck out of town. “Where’s the lake?”
“The other direction, about a half mile after the motel.” She smiled. “We had some fun times out there in high school. It wasn’t that exciting, but we loved it. Country kids are easily entertained. I take a lot of things for granted about my upbringing. I should be more grateful.”
After meeting her mother, Rafael had a pretty good idea about why that was. A lake to swim in didn’t make up for a controlling mother who doled out passive-aggressive criticism at every meal.
Upon her instruction, they headed left out of town. The city center faded as they turned onto a two-lane highway. A few minutes later, they were in the country. Farmhouses, barns, and cornfields decorated the flat landscape. Bales of hay yellowed in the summer sun. Handmade road signs in front of farms advertised vegetables, goat’s milk, and fresh eggs.
“This is pretty cool, Stardust.”
“It is,” she said.
“Things are starting to make sense about you. I’m piecing it all together.”
“Yeah, like what?”
“Like how it is you could fall for a guy like me. Seeing you here, I understand why you’re not enamored with the Hollywood phonies.”
“See there?” She pointed to a large red barn and a two-story white farmhouse not far from the road. A low-growing plant blanketed the fields in green. “That’s the Addison place. They grow pumpkins. We’d go every Halloween in search for the perfect one to take home and carve. David always looked for one that was perfectly round. I liked the misshapen ones with flaws and dents and a few scars.”
“Why?”
“Because they looked like people with stories to tell. The nicks and scars are what made them beautiful.”
“Are we still talking about pumpkins?” he asked.
She tilted her head and blushed. “Maybe.”
His hardened heart grew that much softer. Lisa Perry was uniquely beautiful. There was no one quite like her. How she’d become this way was beyond him. She didn’t get it from her mother. This reconnaissance trip had already told him that much.
She gestured toward a gray barn to the left. “That place is a nursery. They sell plants, flowers, Christmas ornaments, and trinkets. I used to love to go there with my mom and spend an hour looking at the beautiful things they sold. In November they’d host a harvest party. Hay rides. Cider. I kissed Rodney Craven in the corn maze when I was seventeen.” Her voice had turned wistful.
“Rodney Craven? Do I have to worry about old boyfriends while we’re here?” He poked her leg playfully.
She shook her head, laughing. “No, ours was a short-lived romance. Turns out he liked boys.”
“That’s my favorite kind of ex-boyfriend.” He reached over and took her hand. “Do you miss living here?”
“I miss being part of something bigger than myself. A community.” She instructed him to turn left.
They started down a paved country road and drove another half mile, passing a few houses along the way, one with a massive vegetable garden, the other with a horse stable.
“It’s here,” she said, pointing to a gravel road.
He slowed the car and turned right. The tires crunched in the gravel. They passed a clump of trees, rounded a corner, and came upon a modern farmhouse, painted white with black shutters.
“Pretty house,” Rafael said.
“My brother designed it.”
Right. Architect. Residential.
A white fence separated the manicured yard from the wild grasses that grew tall in many shades of yellow. Only the manicured yard wasn’t
quite as trimmed and tidy as it should be. The lawn was overgrown by several inches. Flowerpots held drooping flowers, obviously thirsty. An abandoned tricycle was upside-down near the front walkway.
“He never lets the yard go like this,” Lisa said in a worried voice. “He’s fastidious about every visual detail.”
Rafael parked the car next to the detached garage. He followed Lisa to the side of the house, where she banged on the door.
There was no answer. She knocked again. After a few seconds, she turned the knob, and the door opened. “He always locks the doors.” She muttered this under her breath.
They entered a sleek and modern kitchen, with black countertops and white cabinetry. An array of empty pizza boxes, half-eaten bags of chips, and beer bottles cluttered the counters. She called out to her brother. “David, are you here?”
Rafael stuck his hands in his pockets to refrain from his instinct to clean. A strainer with days-old cooked pasta filled the sink. He turned to the stove, where spoiled sauce dried in the pan. The story wasn’t hard to figure. She’d been in the middle of making dinner when they grabbed her. David hadn’t bothered to clean it up.
“David?” Lisa called out again.
Rafael detected the sound of footsteps bounding down wood stairs. A man wearing a black suit came through the kitchen door. Here was the twin, the male version of Lisa. There was no mistaking they were siblings. He had the same blue eyes and golden hair, although his was a shade darker, as was his complexion. A dimple in the middle of his chin also differentiated him from his sister. If Rafael had met him on the street, he would have assumed he was one of those frat-boy, rich-kid types that he despised on principle. David Perry had an aura of assured self-confidence that hinted at an assumption that everything had gone his way and would continue that way into perpetuity.
However, the moment he saw Lisa, David’s refined, chiseled features twisted into a mixture of grief and relief.
“Hey, Boo.”
“Hey, Da.” They embraced.
“What’re you doing here?” David asked. “I thought you’d meet us at the church.”
“Mom was worried. She said you’d been drinking and not shaving and refused to eat tuna casserole.”
David groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “She caught me at a bad moment.”
“She wanted me to make sure you were showered and dressed.”
“Yep, well, I am.”
David’s face was clean-shaven. His hair was nicely combed and the suit he wore perfectly pressed. Rafael detected no hint of booze.
Lisa stepped back and put her hand on Rafael’s arm. “This is Rafael. My boyfriend.”
David flinched and raised both eyebrows. “Boyfriend? Okay, well, nice to meet you.” He held out his hand and Rafael shook it. “You’ve already had the pleasure of meeting our mother, I take it.”
“Yep.” Rafael nodded. “She came by when Lisa was still in the shower.”
“In our very small motel room,” Lisa said.
David rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. “Sounds like a fun time. Sorry I missed it.”
“We’ll take you to the church,” Lisa said. “And to the gathering at the Turners’.”
“Mom sent you here to make sure I go to my wife’s memorial, is that it?” David asked.
“She thought there was a chance you might not.”
“I don’t want to go.” He leaned against the counter and wrapped his arms around his stomach. “Marigold’s mother insisted on the church. The very same one we got married in.” His mouth twisted bitterly. “We cremated her. You knew that, right?”
Lisa nodded.
“The ashes are in there.” David pointed toward the door. “I don’t know what to do with them. Spread them over the goddamn country club lawn she loved so much?” He looked over at Rafael. “I was with her since we were kids, and I didn’t know one thing about her except that she loved money.”
“Do they know any more…about what happened?” Lisa asked.
“They know what she was doing and who she worked for. Can they prove they killed her? Nope.” He went to the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, then rummaged around in the cabinet and came out with a shot glass. He poured a shot and downed it with a quick flip of his wrist. “She was supplying half the women at that stupid country club. All prescription stuff that makes you skinny or mellow out or whatever. She got a cut. But then they asked her to distribute heroin and cocaine from one end of the state to the other. She put bags of that stuff in our minivan, with our kids in the car, and drove it wherever they wanted it to go. The people she was involved with were like the worst criminals on one of those stupid crime shows Mom watches. Bad people. She could name people high up on the food chain. DEA suspects these guys figured she was a princess, and with a little pressure, she’d roll. So they killed her. They took her from this house while she was making goddamn spaghetti for our babies and put a bullet in her head and dropped her in the lake.”
David poured himself another shot. “You guys want one?”
“It’s a little early.” Lisa shot Rafael a worried glance. He shook his head slightly to let her know it was all right. He would drive them wherever they needed to go.
“Yeah, so Mom’s right.” He downed the shot as fast as the first. “I abhor the thought of the mendacity that will permeate that church as I listen to people drone on about what a wonderful person my wife was.” His voice went up, obviously mimicking his wife’s friends. “‘She was such a good friend to me. I could always count on her for anything. Soup when I was sick. Taking my kids last minute. Remember that time she gave me a makeover before senior prom?’ They’ll cry and clutch the crosses around their necks and then start on about how much she loved me. ‘David, she loved you from the very first moment she ever saw you.’” He tossed an empty beer bottle into the sink. “All lies.”
Lisa jumped. Rafael took her hand.
“And my mother-in-law will talk about what a wonderful mother she was—how dedicated because of the homemade organic applesauce and the kids’ perfectly combed hair. I can’t do it. Not when I know the truth.”
He poured another shot and then looked over at his sister. “Boo, she was driving across Iowa with heroin stuffed under the seat while my babies were watching Nemo and babbling about how much they loved Dory. My babies.” His voice broke, and one sob rose from his chest before he continued.
“The last thing I want is to listen to that utter bullshit. But you know what? I’m going to go. I’m going to walk into that church like the schmuck I’ve always been and endure. Do you know why? Because that’s what I do. I endure. I endure a job I hate. I endure a marriage to a woman who no longer has sex with me. I endure being away from my sister, who is the only person who loves me for exactly who I am. My sister who’s living the life she wanted and chose and had the courage to go after. And now, I’ll be alone with these kids, relying on Mom. I’m trapped because I did everything right, everything that was expected of me.”
Lisa’s cheeks were damp with tears. “It doesn’t have to stay this way. Come home with us to California. You and the children can have a fresh start. I have a place at the beach. You can spend the rest of the summer with Laine and Ollie.”
“Lisa, I can’t just leave here. I have kids and a job. What about this house? I owe so much money on it.”
A job? An architecture job. He tucked that away for later to talk over with Stone and Trey.
“You can sell the house,” Lisa said. “And I have money now. I’ll help you.”
David shook his head. “There’s nothing anyone can do for me.”
The memorial had been exactly as David said it would be, down to the women clutching the crosses that hung on chains around their necks. That is, until the moment David walked up to the lectern.
He gripped the lectern and looked out at the mourners as if searching for the answer to a question. Then he ducked his chin and looked down. From the side, where Rafael sat with Lis
a, he had a clear vision of David’s profile. The muscle in his jaw clenched as he shook his head. When he looked up, he cleared his throat, then began to speak.
“Thank you all for coming. Marigold, being a narcissist, would have loved today. She loved being admired. It got her hot. She might have gone home and had sex with me for the first time in two years.”
Several audible gasps penetrated the silence. No one moved.
“But who knows? She was busy lately. No time for sex. Running heroin all over the state of Iowa with our beautiful children in the back seat of our minivan takes a lot of time and dedication. Yep. That’s the ugly truth. My wife was a drug dealer. She was murdered by ruthless men who wanted to keep her from sharing their secrets.” He held up a hand as if someone had made a protest. “Hey, I know it’s easier to remember her how we wished she was, but the reality is, she was a greedy, conniving, backstabbing bitch. I can guarantee she said something nasty about every single person in this room.” Another audible gasp, but it was like watching a car accident. No one could look away.
“The same woman who brought you soup also told your deepest secret to everyone in town. The perfect daughter pitched her mother against my mother during holidays and then laughed about it. The wife who supposedly loved me so much ruined my life.
“My lovely sister always tries to find the deeper meaning—the lesson—in the events that happen in our lives. Even she would agree, this one’s hard to wrestle out. Here was a woman who never once did a good thing in her entire life. In fact, there are young people all over the state of Iowa hooked on drugs because of her—because she loved designer clothes.” He shook his head. “That’s a fact we cannot excuse away. People are not always how they appear to be. Marigold wasn’t. I’m not. I’m not the golden boy my mother believes I am. Inside, I’m a miserable, bitter old man. But I’m done. I’m taking my children and I’m going to California with my sister to salvage the rest of my life.”
David patted the lectern once and looked over to Lisa. Although she’d trembled the entirety of her brother’s speech, she now leaped to her feet and rushed to her brother.