Torrid - Book One

by Jayne Blue

  This got a genuine laugh out of me and her eyes twinkled.

  “I’ll be there, you know,” I said. I hadn’t planned to but somehow it seemed important. “If you go through with it. If you actually marry him.”

  Her face hardened then and I realized it hadn’t come out right. With the shadows that sometimes darkened her eyes and what I saw last night, I had the sense that a part of Tora was starting to unravel.

  “Why would you think I wouldn’t?” she said and the mask slid back into place.

  I shrugged. “No reason. I didn’t mean anything other than what I just said.”

  She regarded me, but the moment had passed. The chameleon that was Tora Blake stood before me again. She ran a hand across my jaw, her fingers leaving a trail of goose flesh where she touched me. Then she turned and walked away.

  ***

  Tora

  I couldn’t look back. It was past ten in the morning. Hell, it was almost eleven when I pulled into the driveway of Miranda’s house. I had no idea whether Seth was home or not and no way to explain where I’d been if he was. The tires squealed as I braked quickly and put the car in park in the circular driveway, another lie already taking shape in my head.

  When I burst through the front door, it wasn’t Seth standing there with accusatory eyes. It was Mary Barlow. Her mouth was set in a grim line and she stood with her legs apart and arms folded across her ample chest.

  Then I realized: fuck her. I didn’t answer to her.

  “Mary!” Seth bellowed from somewhere upstairs. Shit.

  “She’s just come in now, Mr. Manning,” Mary the traitor called up.

  Shit and fuck. Mary had seen me leave yesterday. She knew I hadn’t come home and she knew I was wearing the same clothes. Seth bounded down the stairs and my heart sank. He hadn’t just come home. He was wearing his Under Armor track pants and a dry-fit t-shirt. He’d been home long enough to take a morning run.

  “Where have you been?” he said.

  I wouldn’t apologize. The minute I did I’d lose whatever chance I had to un-fuck this. Stupid. I’d been so stupid. I was so close to achieving my goal and everything could slip away because I spent the day with first the person I was risking everything for and later with Jack.

  “I went shopping,” I said. “You knew that. And I ran into an old friend from Northwestern. I hadn’t seen her since sophomore year. We got dinner. It was late. I had a couple of glasses of wine and it was just safer to crash on her couch. She has a loft apartment downtown.”

  Seth crossed the distance between us and grabbed me by the shoulders. He gave me a shake hard enough to rattle my teeth. My heart pounded into my throat. “Why didn’t you answer your phone, Tora? I didn’t know what the hell to think.”

  “What?” I said; the room started to spin as icy fingers of panic spread through my chest. I couldn’t do this. Not now. “Let me check it.”

  Somehow I kept my hands from shaking as I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone. I tried to click the ringer off without Seth seeing but he grabbed the phone from my hand before I could. He tried to turn it on as my mind raced. Had Jack called me? No. He didn’t have my number. But there was an outgoing call to Charlie. How would I explain that?

  Seth thrust the phone back into my hand, his eyes narrowed. “Keep the damn thing charged, Tora.”

  What? I looked down. Sure enough, the screen was black except for the red outlined symbol of a battery. I let a slow breath out as I tucked it back into my purse.

  “I will,” I said. “I promise. I didn’t mean to worry you. How was your trip?”

  “Never mind that now,” Seth said. He’d stepped away from me and paced near the foot of the stairs. Mary Barlow kept her judgmental vigil, leaning against the banister. Why was she here again?

  Seth shook a finger at me. “I have to leave again, Tora. Do you get that?”

  What?

  “Okay,” I said, drawing the vowels out.

  “I came home early so I could spend the morning with you. Now I need to take a shower and get to the airport. Jack’s set up a meeting for me with a few of the board members of the Legacy Foundation. It’s important.”

  What the what now? As far as I knew Jack had held his ground about not helping Seth unless he turned over his dad’s software rights.

  “When did that happen?” I asked; it was the first honest thing I’d said since I walked in the door.

  “About ten minutes ago,” Seth said. “Jack called and told me to book a flight.”

  I nodded. I didn’t know what to feel. I wanted to be very careful not to let any emotion show in my face. Not at the mention of Jack or my spinning head and what Jack’s motivation might be.

  “Should I pack a bag, too?” I said; my mouth wasn’t fully connected to my brain. A fiancé should ask this, right? Should I seem upset?

  “Not this time,” Seth said. “We’re too close to the wedding. You need to readjust the guest list. Mrs. Barlow’s going to help you with that. It’s important, Tora. If everything goes well, we’ll be adding some major campaign donors to it.”

  I nodded blankly and Seth stepped forward again. He put his hands up but didn’t touch me again. Did I flinch? I tried to keep a simple smile on my face. “I think I can handle it by myself, Seth.”

  “Tora,” he said again. “I can’t afford to have anything screwed up. Mrs. Barlow knows exactly what my mother would have done. There’s only two days left. Let her help you. In fact, I’d rather you just let her do it.”

  He said other words but the phrase that resonated was “two days.” Two days. In two days I was supposed to walk down the stairs right in front of me and say vows to the man who was now talking to me like an idiot.

  But he was still talking like he wanted to marry me. I hadn’t screwed that up. I still had more time. I shook my head and smiled wider.

  “Whatever you say, baby,” I said. “I want it to be perfect, too. I’m just sorry I missed you this morning. I really am. I’ll make it up to you when you get back. Will it be tonight?” God, please don’t let it be tonight.

  “Probably,” Seth said. “But will you hang on to your phone and actually answer it this time so I can let you know?”

  I nodded. “I promise, baby.”

  Seth set his mouth into a line. He leaned forward and kissed me. My mouth was dry and I hoped he didn’t notice. He turned then and bounded back up the stairs to shower, change and leave.

  Leave. Seth was leaving. Maybe for as long as twenty-four hours again. This time, I would stay right here. Let Mary Fucking Barlow bury herself in guest lists and wedding plans. I had rooms to search. I wanted to start in the attic. It was the most likely place and I think I had the keys.

  With any luck, in two days I’d be long gone.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tora

  As soon as Seth left I showered and changed into a fresh t-shirt and pair of jeans. I ran a hand over my bare knee as I pulled them up. The skin was rough and peeled from the rug burn I got last night. A flash of heat coursed through me at the memory of what I was doing when it happened.

  Jack.

  The craziest thought popped into my head when I thought it. If I told Jack what I was doing, maybe he would help me. He said something to me when I left him that I only just now appreciated. I’ll be there when you do it. If you actually go through with it. He knew. He knew I was lying and didn’t care. He had his own reasons for hating Seth and Miranda. Was he an ally?

  No. I couldn’t risk it. Not if there was even the slightest chance Jack wouldn’t understand. Except I’d been trusting him all along, hadn’t I? Giving myself over to him had been the biggest risk of all and he’d kept the secret.

  Why had I done it? Why did I want to keep doing it? I knew the answer as soon as I thought it. Because the only time I felt like myself was with Jack. The only time I felt anything at all was when he touched me. I shivered at the memory of it.

  I went to Miranda’s room, back to her vanity and t
he pyramid of jewelry boxes she kept there. Where had I seen it? There. In the smallest box at the base, covered in shiny black enamel. I slid it out, careful not to topple the rest of the boxes. I opened it to reveal the set of keys nesting in red velvet.

  I took an elastic band out of my pocket and gathered my hair into a pony tail. As I looked at myself in the mirror I knew I was ready. I brought a flashlight along, just in case.

  “It’s almost over, Miranda,” I said into her mirror. “I know where you keep your secrets now. You can’t hide anything from me anymore.”

  I rose and stepped out into the hallway. “Mrs. Barlow,” I called out at the top of my voice. Only my echo down the marble staircase answered back. I walked over to the wall. Miranda had installed a whole house intercom. I pressed the call button.

  “Mrs. Barlow?” I said again. Silence. She was really gone. Thursday mornings were grocery day. She could be gone until later afternoon. Seth was really gone too. It was just me, alone with Miranda’s secrets.

  Straightening my back, I walked down the long second-floor hallway until I came to the end and the oak six-paneled door that led to the attic. There were three keys on Miranda’s ring. When I slid the first one into the lock and it turned, it felt like fate. My heart fluttered even as my nerves hardened. It was time.

  I left the door open a crack; I’d seen enough horror movies to know you don’t ever close the door behind you. I ascended the steps to the attic. I flipped the light switch on the wall to the right; a light bulb above me flared to life. Dust and mildew assaulted my nose and I took the first step. No boogie man came out, no rats, not even an errant moth. Hell, the steps didn’t even creak as I made my way up.

  When I reached the top of the steps, the light from the stairwell was too far down to be of much use. I switched on my flashlight and felt around for another light switch. After a few seconds of fumbling around, I found what I needed between the bare studs of the wall to my right. With one click, the entire attic brightened from three large rectangular fluorescent lamps above. They seemed out of place here. Too modern for the arching ceilings and high dormer windows facing the north side of the house. Still, their presence would make my job a hell of a lot easier.

  The floor of the attic itself was covered in bare hardwood. It might have been finished and beautiful at one time but was dull now, covered in a thin layer of dust. The contents of the attic lined each wall leaving the space in the center large enough to serve as a ballroom. I went to the wall on my right first. There I found furniture covered in sheets. Two sofas, floor lamps, a dining room table with chipped glass on top and two cedar trunks. I opened one of the trunks and nearly dropped my flashlight.

  It was filled with loose pictures and family albums, dozens of them. I picked up a 3 X 5 photograph. The image was yellowed, reminding me of ones I’d seen that came from Charlie’s ’70s-era Kodak Instamatic. I flipped it over and my hand went to my mouth. Smiling at me with crooked bangs and scraped knees was a sweet-faced boy. He held a fish up on the end of a pole; his father stood behind him, beaming with pride. Jack. It had to be. He had the same devilish dimples and cleft in his chin.

  I picked up another loose photograph, this one much larger. I laughed out loud when I flipped it over. A family photo. One of those awful ones from the ’80s with the family lined up against a wooden railing and an inexplicable plantation backdrop behind them. Jack again, though he was a bit older, maybe ten. His mother stood next to him.

  “There you are, Emily Manning,” I whispered to no one. No wonder Miranda tried to remove all trace of her. Emily Manning had been stunning, with Jack’s same chestnut hair. She wore hers short and feathered. Jack’s father had one arm around her and the other resting gently on the shoulder of his cherubic blonde daughter. Jenny. I knew her name was Jenny. She smiled wide to reveal the same dimples as her brother and an overbite.

  They looked happy. They looked normal. I envied them.

  I pulled an album from the side of the chest and my heart ached for Jack. It was his parents’ wedding album from 1972. Emily’s hair was long and straight then, parted down the middle. She wore a simple white dress with a scooped out neckline and high collar.

  No wonder Jack hated Miranda so much. He’d been sixteen years old when his mother and sister died. Plenty old enough to remember each of the photos in this chest. He must have questioned a thousand times what had happened to them. His father had maybe been too grief stricken to look at them. Then Miranda came along and made them go away for whatever sick, insecure reasons she had.

  I put them back in the chest and closed the lid. As much as I felt for Jack, these were his battle. Miranda had taken just as much of my family away from me and I needed to find a way to get it back. I stood and peeled back a sheet from a lump next to the chests. It was an old computer desk with a clunky Commodore personal computer on top of it. Had this been the one Jack’s father had used to write his million-dollar software? I let the sheet fall back. I couldn’t let myself get sucked into Jack’s nostalgia, no matter how much I found myself caring for him. I had my own demons to slay.

  I moved to the other side of the attic and my heart started to thump. Three tall metal file cabinets lined the back wall. With shaking fingers, I went to the one in the middle and pulled the top drawer. It didn’t budge and I knew I’d take a crowbar or other blunt instrument to it if that’s what it took. It didn’t end up being necessary as I noticed the lowest drawer stood slightly open. I kicked it closed with my foot and the top drawer slid open with ease.

  It was here. It had to be.

  The first file I pulled out at random had a Crane Law Firm logo on the front. Jackpot. Miranda was nothing if not organized. The second cabinet started with client last names beginning with K. I stooped down to open the bottom drawer and found the Q files. My heart hammered in my chest as I closed that drawer and went for the middle.

  Malik, Martin, MacAvoy, McClellen, McLain ...

  My palms were sweating. With shaky fingers I slid out the thick manila folder. I tucked my flashlight under my chin. The file was so large it was a two-handed job. I set it on top of the cabinet and looked again to make sure I didn’t miss a second volume. The next file in the sequence read Michaelson.

  I took the file off the cabinet and that’s when my knees gave out. I sank down in a heap and clutched it to my breast, letting the flashlight roll to the floor.

  I opened it. My vision clouded both from the pounding in my temples and stinging tears that started to form at the corner of my eyes. A faded color Xerox of his mug shot stared back at me, stapled to the right front flap above a police report.

  I ran a finger across the image. Those green eyes stared back at me with menace. So many more lines creased them now and I hated Miranda even more for putting them there. I read the first line of the report.

  McLain, Declan

  Charge: Aggravated Assault

  “Nobody calls you Declan unless they want to eat a fist do they?”

  I pulled up some of the pages of the file, letting them fall down. Witness statements, an intake sheet, billing statements. It would take time to go through every page. Study every statement. I had all day. Seth said he wouldn’t be home until after dinner. I could take all the time I needed. I pulled myself up and turned back to the file cabinet. I shut the drawer. I started walking back toward the steps but something made me stop.

  On a hunch, I went back to the files and pulled out the second drawer of the cabinet furthest left.

  Franklin, French.

  I closed the drawer and opened the next one down.

  Gantry, Garrett, Glover, Great Wolves ...

  Smiling, I pulled that file out and tucked it under my arm with the first.

  “You aren’t supposed to be up here!”

  My shoulders tensed and I straightened my back. When I turned, Mary Barlow and her judgmental grimace stood at the top of the stairs.

  “Can I help you, Mary?” I said, hugging the files to me.

&n
bsp; She didn’t move other than to cross her arms in front of her.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Mary, go clean something. Go over the rehearsal dinner guest list again. I don’t care. Just quit lurking around and stay the hell out of my way.”

  “What do you have there?” she asked, pointing at the files I clutched under my arm.

  Would a lie serve me best or something else?

  “Mary,” I said. My exasperation wasn’t a lie so I used it. “This is about to be my house as much as it is Seth’s. I don’t answer to you and I don’t appreciate you sneaking up on me.”

  “You don’t have permission to be up here. These are Judge Manning’s belongings and she wouldn’t ...”

  I crossed the floor and stood a few feet away from her. “Mary. I’ll speak slowly. Miranda is dead. She doesn’t have things anymore. You don’t work for her anymore. You work for Seth, which means you work for me. If you want to keep doing that, I suggest you go downstairs and do some of the things we’re actually paying you for.”

  “I’m going to speak to Mr. Manning.” Red menace shot from Mary’s eyes and I had an urge to give her a shove. From this angle, she would have toppled backward down the stairs.

  “I don’t care what you do,” I bluffed. “As long as it’s part of your job description. Following me around isn’t. Like I said, Miranda’s dead and I’m still here. Get it? Game over.”

  I kept moving, daring Mary to stop me. She flinched as I brushed past her, jamming my shoulder hard into her arm to move her out of the way. My heart raced but I put a hand out on the railing and kept on going. I half expected her to shove me from behind or do something to stop me. I heard sputtering behind me but she didn’t move. I don’t think she actually believed I’d stand my ground. If she went to Seth, so be it.

  When I reached the landing I thought about locking the goddamn door behind me and letting her rot up there. I almost laughed when she bounded down the steps behind me. Apparently she worried I might do it too.

  She brushed past me on squeaky shoes and hustled down the hallway. I had no idea what her next move would be and for now I didn’t care. I had the files I needed. The answers were inside.