“Wow.” Holly can’t believe he confessed. It doesn’t feel right. “Did he write the note?”
“It was an open document on his computer,” Carmen says, clearly following Holly’s thought process.
“Like the whole thing was staged?”
“Yeah, just like that,” Carmen agrees. “I already considered it but I wanted to hear your story first. I think it’s time we check into your old boyfriend, Hol.”
Holly nods. She knows it’s past time she looks into Tristan. A familiar pain flares in her chest as she considers re-opening that wound. This is going to hurt. A lot.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Hey, Holly.” Greg slips in the front door. As far as she knows it’s the first he’s visited her. He didn’t even visit the hospital. She wonders if he even realizes that she hasn’t been home since before her attack on campus.
“Hi,” Holly says softly. He studies her for a while, taking in the gash on her forehead and the bruising around her neck, still ugly and purplish.
“I heard what happened, I’m sorry I haven’t been around.” Greg starts to make the excuses Holly would expect. “I’ve been really busy with the new professor and then I thought I’d just wait until you came back home, but got your message that you decided to stay with your mom for a few days.”
Never mind that she left that message two days ago when she was discharged from the hospital.
“It’s fine, Greg. I figured you were busy.” Holly sighs and invites him in to the living room. Her mom is out running some errands so they have the house to themselves for the moment. It’s the first time she’s been alone and she was just getting used to it when Greg shows up on her doorstep.
“Are you planning to come home?” Greg asks anxiously. Holly has an inkling of what’s coming. Doesn’t take a genius to puzzle it out and frankly, she’s relieved.
“Yeah, I plan on it,” Holly says cautiously. “I just didn’t want to be alone after what happened and I knew you’d been busy, and you know my mom….” She trails off, studying his face.
“Hol,” Greg frowns and looks away, “this is harder than I expected.”
“It’s alright, Greg.” Holly touches his arm lightly. “I think we both know it’s been coming for a long while.”
He looks relieved. “You know?”
“Greg, we haven’t had sex in almost a year.” Holly points out the cold hard truth. “We’ve been more like roommates for a long time.”
“Oh.” Greg appears a little wounded. “I guess I hadn’t looked at it that way. I was just going to say that I won the grant to go study in South Africa.”
“What?!” Holly feels a mixture of excitement and shock. It was a long shot to begin with, neither of them ever dreamed he would actually get it. She felt certain he came here to break up with her. “That’s incredible, Greg! I’m so happy for you!”
“You thought I was going to break up with you?” Greg asks.
“Yeah, I did,” Holly admits.
“Is that what you want?” Greg looks surprised.
“I think it’s the right thing to do,” Holly answers simply.
He stands there, watching her. She wants to fill the silence but bites her lip to keep from blurting something horrible.
“I love when you do that,” Greg finally says. “I really wasn’t going to break up with you, not after what happened. I didn’t want to be cruel.”
“But you do want to break up?” Holly asks carefully.
Greg considers this for a minute and then nods. “I think I’ve wanted to end things for a while. I just didn’t know how. We’ve been together for so long and we’re great roommates.”
“Just what every girl wants to hear,” Holly interjects, “that she’s a great roommate. C’mon, Greg, we haven’t been in a romantic relationship in a long time.”
He hangs his head. “I know. You’re right. I’m gonna miss you.”
“Me, too,” Holly lies. No sense making things worse. “I’ll clear my stuff out over the next few days, okay?”
Greg nods solemnly. When he looks up, there are tears in his eyes. “I guess I’ll be seeing you.”
Holly doesn’t answer so he just heads for the door and walks out. That’s it. No fight, no screaming match. Holly sighs, flooded with relief. Now she just needs to figure out how to move her stuff out without running into him again.
“Holly, was that Greg leaving?” Her mom walks in, heavily laden with grocery bags. “Couldn’t he have offered to help me? I really do not understand what you see in that boy.”
“You won’t have to worry about him anymore, Mom,” Holly mutters. “He probably didn’t even notice you came home.”
“Why? What’s going on?” A mixture of alarm and excitement, Carrie Chamberlain is suddenly very tuned in to her daughter’s life.
“He got the fellowship in South Africa,” Holly pauses for effect, “and we broke up.”
Her mom practically drops the groceries. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” She doesn’t do a good job of hiding her excitement.
“It’s okay. Probably for the best.” Holly shrugs and helps with the groceries. “Are there more in the car?”
“No, this is it.” Her mom keeps glancing back at her as they walk into the kitchen. “Are you going to be alright? Can I make you some tea?” The go-to answer for everything in the Chamberlain household.
Holly shakes her head. “No thanks, Mom. Carmen is picking me up and we’re going to see a movie.”
“Are you sure you’re up for going out?” The older woman’s eyes go straight to Holly’s neck and she knows her mother disapproves of her going out in such a state.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I need to get out.” Really, she needs to work with Carmen on investigating Tristan and they finally had a lead. Carmen thinks she found Tristan’s mom and it would not do for them to make the call from the Chamberlain house. Holly could not let on to her mom what she’s up to, it would not go over well.
“Do you think you could take this next door?” Her mom is flipping through the stack of mail and holds out one envelope. “It looks like it was delivered to us by mistake.”
Holly rolls her eyes. “Did you make a deal with the mail carrier again, Mom?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Her mother smiled deviously and Holly knew it was true. She stalked over, took the envelope from her mother’s hand, and glared.
“Why do you do this?” Holly asks, “I just broke up with my boyfriend after getting attacked by a psychotic professor at my school. What about any of that says ‘please hook me up with a strange neighbor guy,’ Mom?”
“I’m not trying to hook you up,” her mom counters, “I just thought you could meet the guy and get the dirt. Nobody seems to know much of anything about him.”
Holly shakes her head. “I’m in awe of you sometimes, Mom. Honestly.” She spins on her heel and leaves her mom to put the groceries away by herself. Penance for trying to play matchmaker again. She opens the door and finds herself face to face with Carmen.
“Whoa! That’s some seriously awesome timing!” Carmen exclaims.
“Go, now.” Holly pushes her friend backward and shuts the front door.
“What is going on?” Carmen asks as Holly pulls her by her arm off the porch and down to the street.
“Greg and I broke up.” Holly lets it hang in the air for a moment before continuing but Carmen looks bored. “And Mom is already trying to fix me up with our mysterious neighbor.”
“Um, okay.” Carmen is clearly confused.
Holly holds up the envelope. “She coerced the mail carrier into giving us some of the neighbor’s mail so I have to take it over there.”
“So?” Carmen looks puzzled.
“She’s trying to manipulate me. I hate it when she does this shit and now I have to move back home because Greg and I broke up so she can just keep torturing me and finding ways to force men on me. Can’t wait.”
“She loves you, Holly. She wouldn’t do all of this if she didn’
t care.”
Holly huffs as she heads over to the neighbor’s house. It doesn’t look like anybody is home but she knocks on the door and waits for a few minutes. It is early, not quite dinner time yet. “Looks like he’s not home.” Holly shrugs and leaves the envelope stuck in the door jamb.
“You could bring it back later,” Carmen suggests.
“No. I don’t even want to do this. It’s ridiculous,” Holly complains and heads off down the street. “Let’s go, we’ve got stuff to do, remember?”
“Right.” Carmen bounces off toward the bus stop. “So you and Greg are over?”
Holly nods. “It’s for the best.”
“Ya think? Maybe we can track down your old boyfriend and you can get back together and live happily ever after.”
“Right.” Holly looks back at the house. That’s what they were supposed to do, that’s what he’d promised. Happily ever after.
**
“Nope, no Victoria or Tristan at that one.” Carmen tosses her cell on the sofa. “Are you sure we can’t do this at your place? I can’t get comfortable here.”
Holly frowns at her friend. “This is your place, Carmen. How can’t you be comfortable in your own house?”
“I just feel jumpy for some reason. I’m not used to having people over here.” Carmen shifts position again. “No offense, it’s a thing.”
“None taken.” Holly watches her friend move around, shimmying and adjusting every few seconds. “Is it an elf thing or a you thing?”
“I don’t know,” Carmen says as she punches at another pillow. “I just get jumpy.”
“Interesting.” Holly pretends to play therapist, a stunt that always amuses her friend. “So, has this always been an issue for you or is it a more recent development?”
Carmen stops moving, glances at Holly, and chuckles. “Funny, Holly, very funny. Can we just go somewhere else?”
“Where? My place is off limits, can’t go to my mom’s house, campus is a no-go until I go back on Monday.” Holly tries to think of someplace else where they won’t be bothered. There are still half a dozen numbers on their list of DuMondes in Louisiana. She finds it highly unusual that Tristan’s family is from there, but the ones they’ve tried so far have never even heard of Tristan or his mother. How many DuMondes could there possibly be in Louisiana?
“Let’s hit the café!” Carmen leaps to her feet. “I can do that thing I do and we can have the place to ourselves.”
“But I’m off work there too,” Holly reminds her. “How do I go in when I’m supposed to be out sick?”
“I will show up and take on the shift and you can just be visiting. Besides, one look at those bruises on your neck and they’ll believe you.”
Holly’s hands go to her throat. “Oh, yeah. Okay. I guess that works.”
“Great! Let me change into work clothes.” Carmen skips out of the room and returns a few seconds later dressed in her usual café attire.
“Why do you even bother if you’re going to lock everybody out anyway?” Holly wonders aloud. “And how do you explain the shortage in the drawers on the nights we work?”
“I don’t because there isn’t one,” Carmen says simply. “I make sure there is money in there and a register tape and all that good stuff humans need to keep a business running. I’m not an idiot, Hol.”
“Didn’t say you were, just curious.” Holly follows her friend out of the loft. She holds the remainder of the DuMonde numbers in one hand and her cell in the other. “Don’t you think it’s strange that none of these people have even heard of Tristan or his mother?”
“Yep, sure do.” Carmen locks up and bounces down the steps, two at a time. “But, I also think that we’ve seen a lot of coincidences lately.”
“And they all coincide with Tristan.”
“Exactly. We need to find your ex-boyfriend to see what the hell he has to do with all of this. If he’s really here, your knight in shining armor or your stalker, then why doesn’t he just walk up and say something to you? Why the bizarre cloak and dagger approach?” Carmen has clearly considered this for a while.
Holly looks at her friend out of the corner of her eye. “Do you really think Tristan could be behind all of this?”
“It’s possible,” Carmen answers quietly, “but somebody else could just be using the memory of him against you, to torture you. That’s why we have to track him down. Just to be sure.”
“Why would somebody do such a thing?” Holly asks.
“Jealousy, revenge, pure enjoyment,” Carmen rattles off answers as she ticks off her fingers. “People are sick; we’ve been over this.”
“But, I haven’t seen Tristan since I was sixteen.” Holly can’t understand why somebody would choose that wound to open when her father’s death is much fresher.
“I know what you’re thinking, Hol,” Carmen warns, “but don’t go there. We’ll figure this whole thing out. Everything we discuss in the meantime is a guessing game and it’ll only drive you nuts. Let’s just knock out this list.” Carmen opens the door to the café and gestures for Holly to enter first.
“It’s hard not to think about it.”
“There she is!” A voice booms from behind the counter as she enters. “Holly! It’s so good to see you!” Howard, the middle-aged general manager, wraps his arms around her in his token bear hug. His scraggly beard tickles her face and he reeks of Old Spice aftershave. Howard holds her out at arm’s length to study her. “What did that monster do to you? I could shred the beast for what he tried to do!”
“I’m alright, Howard.” Holly forces a half-smile to reassure her boss. “Just a little sore.”
“Alright?” Howard frowns, his bushy brows like caterpillars behind the Buddy-Holly-esque frames he swears are hipster. “You look like you were strangled and beaten by a biker gang.”
“Enough, Howard, she doesn’t look that bad.” Carmen comes to Holly’s aid. “You should have seen her in the hospital, it was way worse.”
“Gee, thanks. I can feel the love.” Holly rolls her eyes. “What does it take for a girl to get a coffee around here?”
Howard takes the hint and slides back behind the coffee bar. “Lemme guess, a medium roast with two pumps of vanilla?”
“You know me too well, boss,” Holly teases. “Just a small one tonight though, it’s getting late.”
“It’s never too late for coffee!” Howard exclaims indignantly.
“You’ve never had to stay up with Holly on a caffeine buzz,” Carmen interjects as she ties her apron on. “It’s not pretty, Howard, not at all.”
“Somehow I find that difficult to believe.” Howard hands over Holly’s order with a wink. “I don’t think our Holly could be anything but pretty.”
“You’re such a flirt, Howard!” Holly laughs and accepts the coffee. “Now, I’m going to hide in that cozy little corner over there and make some phone calls.”
Howard looks disappointed but he waves her off and goes back to work behind the counter. Thankfully, a throng of customers enters to occupy him for the time being. Holly resumes her calls only to find further disappointment as nobody seems to know anything about a Tristan or Victoria DuMonde. With only two names left on the list, Holly is losing hope. She dials the number for a W. DuMonde. A woman answers, young and chipper with a strong southern drawl.
“Hello, is Victoria DuMonde available?” Holly asks politely.
“Just a moment.”
There is a long silence and then a very familiar voice says, “Hello, who is this?”
“Victoria?” Holly’s heart is thrumming in her chest. “Victoria, this is Holly Chamberlain, do you remember me?”
“Holly? Little Holly from Seattle?” Victoria asks incredulously.
“Yes, it’s so nice to hear your voice after all these years. How are you?” Holly struggles with the small talk.
“I’ve been better.” Victoria sounds cautious now, almost suspicious. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m trying
to track down Tristan, I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately and I just….” Holly trails off; the line sounds as if it’s gone dead.
“Tristan is dead.” The southern drawl is back, no longer chipper. “Do not call here again.” With a click, the call ends.
Holly stares at her phone. Numbness spreads through her limbs and she nearly drops the list and her phone. She manages to catch Carmen’s eye.
“Takin’ my break, Howard,” Carmen calls out and scoots out from behind the coffee bar. She plops in the chair opposite Holly and studies her. “I take it you found him?”
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