There were nights last year when he thought he was falling in love with her, but never found the courage to tell her, or even to kiss her again the way he had freshman year. His feelings brewed and simmered throughout junior year until summer break; then they said good-bye. Tentative plans to get together over summer fell through, and it wasn’t until the beginning of senior year that he finally got to see her again. By then, having missed her so badly, Brad knew without question he loved her. But the unspoken attraction and pent-up feelings worked against them during this past semester. The late nights of talking until the sun rose and until they both drifted off to sleep happened infrequently at the beginning of the semester, and barely ever now. A week before when she slept over, and now tonight, were the only times all semester Brad could remember having Becca just to himself.
“Brad,” Becca said again. “What’s going on?”
Finally pressed on the subject, and perhaps wanting to be, Brad felt his cheeks warm. “I don’t know, I guess I just miss this.” He threw his finger back and forth. “You know, you and me talking all night. We used to do it all the time, but this year has been weird for us. You know?”
He saw Becca’s eyes dart right and left as he spoke, recognizing that she felt the same way. She sat up and pulled her feet slowly from his lap.
Brad,” Becca said. “You know you’re one of my dearest friends, right?”
“Sure,” Brad said. “And you’re one of mine.”
“So stop talking about the good old days, okay? What are we, old people? We’re going to be friends forever.”
“I like hearing you say that,” Brad said. “Because I like being friends with you, and I like being close to you, and I like spending all night talking to you. And those stupid BB notes you leave for me in the mornings mean a lot to me.”
“What notes?”
“The little sticky notes you write me when you stay over and leave before I’m awake. I don’t know, I just like them.” He pointed toward Gail’s bedroom. “And I don’t care who knows that we like spending time together.”
They weren’t the words he had practiced so many times. He wanted to say that he loved her. He wanted to tell her that he couldn’t imagine only being her friend for the rest of his life, because that would mean every woman he met would be compared to her, and he knew none would stack up. But even though the correct words did not form tonight, what came out was a good start. It was further than they ever came before in dealing with their feelings for each other.
“Everyone knows you and I are close,” Becca said. “It’s no secret.”
“I know we’re close. But my comment about the good old days comes from . . . I don’t know, I just feel like something happened over the summer. Last year we used to stay up all night and talk, and we haven’t had many of those nights this year. I miss them, that’s all.”
Becca moved her feet back onto his lap. “My flight doesn’t leave until tomorrow afternoon. We can stay up and talk tonight. I’d like that.”
Brad grabbed her feet and massaged them as they rested on his lap. This was a perfect way to end the semester, but Brad knew he couldn’t go through another—their last—hiding his feelings. The conversation eventually drifted to Brad’s father. Becca was the best listener on the subject. Becca’s father had been invited again to the Reynoldses’ hunting cabin for the annual weekend where stiff-suited lawyers acted like outdoorsmen. Brad pressed for information about what Becca’s father thought of his dad. Becca kept the fact that her dad thought Mr. Reynolds was a jagoff to herself, but the topic took them late into the night. The whole time they talked Brad thought about kissing her, but the right moment never came.
Later, he listened to Becca’s breath as she slept next to him. Brad closed his eyes and imagined them as a couple.
Next year would be different.
CHAPTER 10
Kelsey Castle
Summit Lake
March 8, 2012
Day 4
It took a few calls the next morning to find the address and phone number. It was late afternoon when the woman was able to meet. Kelsey walked from the Winchester Hotel and found Hiawatha Avenue. She sucked up the crisp spring air as she made her way west through town, toward the mountains. The houses here were older Colonials with wraparound porches and manicured lawns. She found 632 painted on the mailbox, headed up the front steps, and rang the bell. It was her fourth day in Summit Lake.
A moment later, an elderly woman came to the door with a pleasant smile. “Hello?” the woman said.
“Hi. Livvy?”
“No, no. Livvy’s my daughter.” She had a cute Southern twang covered by the gravel of age.
“My name is Kelsey Castle. We spoke earlier on the phone.”
“Oh, yes. You’re the writer.”
“Correct. A journalist for Events magazine.”
“You gonna figure out what happened to Becca?” the woman asked.
“I’m going to write a story about her, yes.” Through the screen door, Kelsey guessed the woman was in her eighties, maybe older. Her gray hair was recently sculpted, and Kelsey suspected she kept a weekly appointment at the beauty shop in town. Her skin had deep creases, but her smile was bright and her eyes sharp.
“Is your daughter home?”
“Oh, no,” the woman said. “She’s gone now. Too many people asking her too many questions.”
Kelsey paused a moment and slivered her eyes. “When I talked to you on the phone you said she was here.”
“No, ma’am. You asked if she lived here, and I told you she did. Had you asked if she were home, I’d have told you she was sick and tired of talking to y’all.”
Kelsey smiled at the old lady’s backhanded charm. “My apologies,” she said. “I misunderstood. Mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“Of course not. No one’s asked me a thing.”
“I didn’t get your name.”
“Mildred Mays. But you can call me Millie, everyone else does.”
Kelsey smiled through the screen door. “Millie? Like Millie’s Coffee House?”
“You got it. Started that little place many, many years ago.”
“I was there yesterday. It’s really pretty.”
“Sure is. Livvy did a great job remodeling when she took over.”
“I understand Becca Eckersley was at the cafe that day.” Kelsey paused. “The day she died. I heard Livvy talked to her.”
“It’s such a shame,” Millie said, opening the screen door and motioning Kelsey inside. “Livvy and her husband are close with William and Mary.” She turned to Kelsey as they walked through the hallway. “That’s Becca’s parents.” She pointed to a bar stool at the kitchen island. “Take a seat. I’ll make some tea.”
Kelsey sat down. Through the bay window was a spectacular panoramic view of the mountains. “This is a beautiful home,” Kelsey said.
“Thank you.” Millie set water on the stove to boil. She draped three Lausanne tea bags over the edge of the pot. “Some people enjoy the lake. Like the Eckersleys, with that beautiful house on the water and that wonderful view. We prefer the mountains.”
“Both are nice options.” Kelsey pulled her notepad from her purse.
“Oh, sure. Only problem out here are the hunters. Lots of hunting cabins deeper in the foothills, and they make a helluva racket some mornings. Shooting those guns. But I’m an early riser, so it doesn’t bother me much.”
Kelsey waited a moment. “So how was it that Livvy knew Becca?”
“Livvy lived in the same neighborhood as the Eckersleys, back in Greensboro. That was before she and Nicholas moved up here permanently. Nicholas is my son-in-law. Livvy and Nicholas are the ones who introduced William and Mary to Summit Lake when their kids were very young. My husband and I have been up here for years. When I was ready to move on from the coffeehouse, it was Livvy’s turn to take over. Livvy and Nicholas have owned a house here for many years, and they used to invite the Eckersleys up for long weekends
when the kids were young. William and Mary fell in love with this town and soon bought the stilt house. Livvy has children the same age as Becca and her brother. She used to watch the Eckersley clan a bunch when they were little kids.”
“Watch them how?”
“William was always busy with his law practice, and Mary worked back then. Livvy stayed at home and her house back in Greensboro was where the kids gathered in the summer. Livvy just took on the role of watching Becca and her brother when William and Mary were at work.”
“Have the Eckersleys been back up here since Becca died? To that stilt house?”
“Oh, no. They rushed up the night it all happened, but after Becca died the house was roped off. They stayed at the Winchester for a couple of nights to help the police any way they could; then they went home to Greensboro and haven’t been back since. I heard they’re going to sell the house. They couldn’t possibly enjoy it knowing what happened there. I don’t blame them one bit, but I doubt the house will sell easily. Which is unusual for those homes. Whenever they go on the market, they’re usually snatched up real quick. Because of their location and so forth. But this is a small town, and everyone knows what happened to Becca.”
Kelsey made some notes while Millie pulled two tea glasses from the cabinet. “Did Livvy tell you she talked to Becca that day? At the coffeehouse? A few hours before she died.”
Millie smiled as she worked. “I’m her mother. Livvy told me everything about that day.” In a softer voice, and with more twang, she added, “And plenty more.”
The water came to a rolling boil and Millie turned the burner off and covered the pot to let the tea simmer. She pulled a glass pitcher from the fridge. It was empty but for a strange sludge at the bottom, which was barely visible through the frosted glass. “I’ve found if you chill this overnight it sticks to the tea better.” Millie swirled the concoction in the pitcher.
“What is it?”
“My special recipe for sweet tea.” Millie placed the pitcher next to the brewing tea. “You tell me what you think when it’s ready.”
“Can’t wait,” Kelsey said. “Can you tell me anything about Livvy’s conversation with Becca that day at the cafe?”
“Oh, sure. I can tell you all about it. Becca came to Summit Lake to study for her exams. She was studying to be a lawyer, you know?”
“She was at George Washington Law, isn’t that right?”
This caused Millie to laugh. “For her father, there was no other choice. It was his alma mater and he was intensely proud of his school. Becca’s brother attended a few years before she did and then joined his father’s firm. That was the plan for Becca, I suppose.”
“How long was she at the cafe that day?”
“Couple of hours, from what Livvy said. She had papers and books all over the place—on the table, on the chairs. A real mess. Had her computer out and was tapping along. Livvy didn’t want to bother her or take her focus off her studies. So mostly, she just let Becca work. Refilled her coffee when she asked for more.”
“When they finally did talk, what did Livvy say they talked about?”
“After she packed up her things Livvy walked over to say hello. Becca was always a good girl. Real polite. Livvy asked her about school and Becca showed her what she was reading. Real boring stuff. Constitutional law that sounded awful to cram in your brain. And contracts, too.” Millie shook her head. “But Becca said she liked it, so Livvy was excited for her. You’ve gotta remember, Livvy used to babysit this girl when she was still in diapers, so to see her studying to be a lawyer was a real treat. Livvy told me, though, she could tell something was wrong. Something about Becca was off.”
“Like what?”
“She looked worried, I guess. Livvy never really explained it, she’s just good at reading people. You know someone from the time they were a little girl, you can tell when something’s bothering them.”
“Livvy ask her about it?”
Millie paused before answering. “She did.”
“And?”
“Well, you see, Miss Castle, Livvy never told William and Mary about this because Becca swore her to secrecy. So I’m not sure she’d want me to say anything to you.”
A veteran at conducting interviews, Kelsey knew when to push hard for information and when to back off. When Millie offered nothing more, Kelsey scribbled on her notepad and changed the subject. “Has Livvy been in touch with the Eckersleys since Becca died?”
“Not that I know of. Livvy and Nicholas are up here most of the year running the coffeehouse, and since the kids have all gone off to college she hasn’t been as close to William and Mary. She sent a card and saw them at the funeral but hasn’t talked to them besides that. Plus, William and Mary have been busy with the investigation.”
Millie stood and walked to the stove. She poured the hot tea into the frosted pitcher and stirred it thoroughly to dissolve the sweet sludge at the bottom. From an ice maker near the kitchen bar she scooped two shovelfuls of ice into the pitcher. After some more stirring, she made herself a sample and examined it as if she were in a Napa vineyard. Finally she tasted it, staring through the bay window while she let her palate examine her work. Then she nodded.
“Perfect.” She filled two glasses and placed one in front of Kelsey. “See for yourself.”
Kelsey took a sip. Raised in Florida, she was no stranger to sweet tea, and Kelsey had to admit that Millie’s sludge put a taste on the tea that was different from anything she’d experienced before. “Very good.”
“Isn’t it? I’m quite proud of it.”
Kelsey took another sip. “This might be the best tea I’ve ever tasted. You should sell this.”
“I do. Over at the coffeehouse. It’s on the menu: Millie’s Sweet Tea.” Her Southern twang was more pronounced with some tea on her tongue.
“No kidding?”
“When I owned the place I had a few customers ask for it every now and then, but I never told many people about it. But when that young girl came to run the place for Livvy, she liked the tea so much she put it on the menu and named it after me.”
“Who’s that?”
“The young girl who’s running the cafe while Livvy’s gone.”
“Rae?”
“Yes, nice girl. You know her?”
“I met her the other day,” Kelsey said.
“Great girl. Sharp as a nail, too. Everybody really likes her around this town. After she put my name on the menu, she’ll always have a place in my heart.”
Millie walked over to the counter and gathered the ingredients to put them away. She shoved the laminated page containing her sweet tea recipe into a binder.
“Is your recipe available to the public?” Kelsey asked.
“Oh, no, sweetheart,” Milled said, holding up her recipe binder—a felt-covered book that rested on her counter. “This book is strictly off-limits. If I let people know what was in here, all my secrets would be revealed. I’m eighty-six years old. My secrets are all I have left.”
Kelsey nodded and drank her tea, staying quiet for a moment. She looked over her notes before deciding enough time had passed. “Any hint about what was on Becca’s mind that day at the cafe? What might have been bothering her? You said she swore Livvy to secrecy about something.”
Millie sighed. She shoved her recipe book into a row of cookbooks on the kitchen counter and then sat down with Kelsey. She took a sip of tea, looked at Kelsey with a little smile. “She was excited about a boy she was dating.”
Kelsey scribbled again on her notepad. “Did she tell Livvy anything about this boy?”
“Quite a bit. When Livvy finally went over to talk to her, after Becca gathered up her study materials and textbooks, she was scribbling away in her journal. Livvy said she was gushing.”
Kelsey’s spine straightened and her eyes narrowed. “Becca was writing in a journal?”
“That’s what Livvy told me.”
“Did Livvy see the journal?”
“Ju
st what Becca showed her about the boyfriend.”
“Which was?”
“He was someone from law school, or maybe he was already a lawyer. I guess I’m not too sure about that. I just remember Livvy saying Becca was really glowing about him, and . . .” Millie trailed off.
“And what?” Kelsey asked.
“Well, you see . . . I feel strange telling you this because Becca’s parents don’t even know. Even now, I don’t think they know. Becca never told them.”
“Told them what? That she was dating this guy?”
“Oh, no, her parents knew she was dating him.”
“Then what?”
Millie wrapped both hands around her tea and closed her eyes. “They didn’t know Becca had gone off and married this fella.”
CHAPTER 11
Becca Eckersley
George Washington University
December 22, 2010
Fourteen months before her death
Jack slammed the back hatch of the Ford Explorer and walked to the driver’s side window. “See you, buddy. Have a good Christmas.”
“Yeah,” Brad said.
Brad stared straight through the windshield, and Jack recognized the familiar look in his roommate’s eyes. He always noticed it when Brad headed home.
“It won’t be that bad,” Jack said. “Just don’t get into it with him.”
Brad feigned a smile. “He’s such a pompous ass. I can’t wait until I’m on my own.”
“He already told you he’s not paying for law school, so there you go. Get an apartment next year and borrow your way to freedom, that’s what student loans are for. You can spend every holiday at my place.” Jack leaned against the car, his breath a swirling white vapor as it came from his mouth.
“Where will your place be?” Brad asked.
“Next year? Depends where I get accepted.”
“How about Becca? She hear from any schools yet?”
“I don’t think so. I haven’t really talked to her about it.” Jack laughed. “Don’t worry about Becca and where she’s going next year. You get like this every time you head home.”
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