by Sharon Sala
“No.”
“Paul said he thought he remembered seeing a body on the ground. Do you remember anything like that?”
She covered her face with both hands, remembering parts of her crazy dreams. “I don’t know? Maybe. I’m not sure.”
He shifted his line of questioning. “What do you know?”
“I’ve been keeping a journal of my dreams,” she said.
“May I see it?” he asked.
She hesitated. “It may mean nothing, and—”
“I can get a search warrant and confiscate it or—”
She lowered her hands and stared at her son as if he was a stranger, then pushed her chair away from the table and got up.
“I’ll be right back,” she said. She walked out of the kitchen with her head up, leaving Trey feeling like shit amid the tantalizing aroma of her cherry pie.
He heard footsteps and turned around just as Betsy dropped the journal onto the table, then sat back down without a word.
“Do I have your permission to take this as possible evidence in the murder of your two classmates?”
Her shoulders sagged. Put that way, her indignation seemed petty and out of place. “Yes, of course you may,” she said softly.
“Thank you,” Trey said. “Noted for the record, I’m taking a blue leather journal belonging to Betsy Jakes as evidence.”
Betsy was beginning to shake.
Trey feared she was on the verge of an emotional breakdown, but he couldn’t let his personal feelings get in the way.
“In a nutshell, could you explain for the record what the journal contains?”
“Right after Dick Phillips’ murder I began having dreams or nightmares or whatever you want to call them. I’ve been writing them down. Sometimes I think I’m about to remember, and then everything fades. I hope what I’ve written is helpful in some way.”
Trey felt sick to his stomach. This was his mother, and he would have stopped anyone else who was making her this miserable. He couldn’t believe this was even happening.
“I have another question. Has there been anyone lately who has given you cause to be afraid?”
“No.”
“Do you fear for your life?”
She hesitated again, and then looked straight at him. “Yes.”
“Why?”
She took a deep breath and then clasped her hands together in her lap. Tears were rolling down her face, and her voice was shaking when she answered.
“I think we witnessed something bad. I dreamed we saw a body. I think we might have been on our way to report it when we wrecked.”
“If that’s true, then why would someone wait this long to eliminate witnesses?”
“I don’t know. I swear to God, I don’t know. I wish I did, but I don’t.”
Trey glanced down at the notebook. There was one more question he had yet to ask, and he was debating with himself about voicing it. But when it came to doing his duty, he was a lawman first and a son second.
“I have one more question. Has it ever occurred to you that you four could be the ones responsible for the body you mention seeing in your journal?”
Betsy sobbed out loud. “Yes, it’s occurred to me.”
“Do you think yourself capable of murder?”
“Oh, my God, I don’t know, Trey. I don’t know! We were eighteen years old and drunk out of our minds. I don’t know.”
Trey stopped the recorder, circled the table and pulled his mother out of the chair and into his arms.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice thick with tears.
At that point Trina walked into the kitchen, her eyes red and swollen. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“I had to officially question Mom about the wreck in case it’s connected to Dick Phillips’ and Paul Jackson’s deaths.”
“Why would you do that?” Trina shrieked. “She didn’t have anything to do with their murders.”
Betsy pulled out of Trey’s arms and grabbed Trina by the shoulders, her tears still falling.
“Stop it, Trina! Stop it now! Trey was just doing his job.”
“You didn’t kill your friends!” Trina shot back.
“Not Dick and Paul, and not Connie. But I’m almost certain someone died before we had the wreck, and I have no idea if we only witnessed it or if we caused it, understand?”
Trina clapped a hand over her mouth, staring at her mother in disbelief, and then came to her senses and threw her arms around her mother’s neck.
“I know you didn’t cause anyone to die!” Trina cried. “I know you would never hurt a soul! I’m sorry, Mama, I’m sorry for not being more understanding about what you’ve been going through. I’m here for you. We’re all here for you.”
Trey walked up behind them, put his arms around both of them and pulled them close.
“We’ll get through this, and we’ll still be together. I’ll find a way to figure this out. I have to. I can’t lose either one of you.”
* * *
Pinky Parsons made a bed for herself on the living room sofa and sidestepped the dog, even though it kept nosing around her things.
Louis had eaten very little, claiming to be in too much pain, and gone to bed over an hour ago. She’d asked him when Reece usually woke up, but he’d answered her with a shrug, saying he had no way of knowing because he was asleep.
She’d bitten her tongue to keep from flying into a fit and was now awaiting Reece’s appearance. She glanced at the time and then rolled her eyes as the hour hand moved past 7:00 p.m. It made it past eight and was at less than twenty minutes before nine when she heard a door open down the hall. The dog jumped up from the rug and disappeared.
When she heard the familiar and forceful voice of her favorite son, she stood up, her hands clasped against her belly, ready to welcome him.
He walked into the room with a brash swagger and a smile, which momentarily made her forget she wasn’t exactly welcome here. She needed to get him to give her some money, then get out of Mystic before she became too entrenched in what Reece was doing and got arrested for aiding and abetting.
“Mama! It’s good to see you.”
Pinky knew that was an outright lie, but she managed a smile anyway. “It’s good to see you, too, son.”
Reece frowned. “Damn, what happened to your teeth?”
She clenched her lips together, but it was too late. “I fell on some ice. They got knocked out.”
He frowned. “You need to get them fixed. Makes you look old.”
She rolled her eyes. “If I had money for dental work, I would also have money for rent, but I have neither, which is why I’m temporarily on your sofa.”
“Yeah, right,” Reece said. Then he grinned at Bobo, who was dancing around his feet. “Sorry, Mama. I gotta go let the dog out.”
She watched him walk away and then followed him into the kitchen, ready to cater to his needs.
“I made some dinner from what I found in your fridge,” she said.
Reece pointed to the pad by the refrigerator. “Louis left me a note.”
“Oh, yes. Well...would you like me to heat it up for you? It won’t take a minute.”
“No, I’m good. My jaw is a little sore right now. Got into a little dustup the other night, but it’s nothing serious.”
“Louis told me,” she said.
He paused, looked at her and then quickly looked away.
“Exactly what did he tell you?” he asked, as he got a bottle of Coke from the refrigerator.
“That you’re stalking a woman and might have killed a man.”
The Coke slipped from his hands and hit the floor with a bounce. Good thing for plastic bottles. Not a good idea to open it right now. He set it back in the refrigerator and then turned around. “He said all that, did he?”
She nodded. “He also said you had lots of money and would help me get an apartment someplace so I wouldn’t be in your way.”
A muscle jerked at the side of Reece�
�s right eye as he started walking toward her. If this was anyone but his mother, he would have sworn that she’d mentioned the stalking and the killing so that asking for money next would be a reminder to him of what she knew—and could tell—if he didn’t come through. He wanted to wring Louis’s neck and break hers, but she was blood, and that kept her breathing.
Pinky wasn’t sure whether she should scream or run as he approached because he looked seriously pissed off, and then he took her by the shoulders and pulled her into his arms in a big hug.
“Damn old Louis, but he’s right. I do have money, and I’ll be thrilled to help you past this rough spot.”
Pinky sighed. “Oh, thank you, son.”
Reece was still smiling as he cupped her face, but when he began increasing the pressure, she thought her head was going to pop.
“Stop, Reece! You’re hurting me.”
“It’s a reminder, Mother. A reminder to keep your damn toothless mouth shut, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, and pushed away, refusing to let him know how much he’d scared her.
“Just so we understand each other,” he said. “I’m going to eat a bite, and then I’ll give you a check. Maybe Louis can take you to the bank tomorrow to cash it. After that, you’re free to go wherever you choose.”
“Thank you, Reece.”
“You’re welcome, Mama.”
The dog was scratching at the door to come in.
Reece turned away from her as if she’d just disappeared, and Pinky took advantage of the moment to do just that. She went back into the living room and sat down in the shadows with an eye on the kitchen. She wished Louis would wake up because something had happened to Reece since the last time she’d seen him. She didn’t know what it was, but he scared the crap out of her.
Twelve
Pinky sat without moving, listening to Reece talking to the dog and digging through the refrigerator, as normal sounding as anyone, but he had not denied trying to kill a man.
The longer she sat, the tighter the band of muscles across her chest became. She needed to cry but was afraid to show weakness. In an effort to shift focus from her fear, she turned on the television and then lowered the volume. Over time, she became fixated on the screen while purposefully ignoring his presence in the house.
When he walked back through the room a short while later and paused to hand her a check, she quickly muted the volume and stood up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. When she saw the amount, she was stunned.
“Thank you, son. This is very generous. I’ll cash it tomorrow and be out of your way as soon as possible.”
“Get your teeth fixed, too,” he said.
“I will, oh, I will,” she said. She folded the check and put it in her pocket, then sat back down and resumed her program.
It was time to log some time on the computer, Reece thought, so he left her alone, glad this drama was over. As soon as she had money and a ticket, she would be gone and one less thing for him to worry about. However, he was going to have to talk to Louis. He couldn’t have him telling anyone their business. Not even Mama.
* * *
Lissa had waited to reveal her surprise until it was close to bedtime. The nurses had already made rounds, and it was quieting down as she turned off the television and closed the door to Mack’s room.
He was still finding it hard to believe that she was back in his life, and when she closed the door, he grinned. “Am I about to get lucky?”
“Yes, you are, Mister Man.”
He wanted to get turned on. She was so damn cute, but his shoulder hurt like a big dog. He couldn’t do anything but watch her curls bounce and appreciate the flash of sexy that came and went without reason.
Lissa was flirting on purpose. It was funny how being loved could make a woman feel.
She straightened his covers, made sure there was a pillow behind his head that would take the pressure off the wound on his back, and then slowly raised the head of his bed just enough so he could swallow without choking.
“First surprise!” she said, and dug a large bag of Peanut M&M’s out of the tote bag, tore open the top and put it on the covers where he could easily reach inside.
“Hey, my favorite candy!” he said. He popped a couple into his mouth, enjoying the crunch of the hard candy shell and then the savory taste of the peanut. Meanwhile she poured a glass of water and set it on the table where he could reach it.
She cupped the side of his cheek and then swept a wayward lock of dark hair from his forehead. “Are you comfy, sugar?”
“Yes, I am,” he said.
Next she pulled a book out of the tote bag, climbed up onto the bed beside his knee and cleared her throat. Then, with all the ceremony she could muster, she opened it to the first page.
“The Velveteen Rabbit,” she announced, just as she would have to her students. Then she began to read.
A wave of emotion swept through Mack so fast that there were tears in his eyes before he knew it. This book was one of the few things he remembered from when his mother was still alive, and the fact that Lissa remembered him telling her that and was reading it now touched his heart.
As a child, he’d been obsessed with it, and his mom had read it to him nightly without complaint. After she died, he’d thought he would never want to hear it again, and now here sat Lissa with the same attention to detail and emotion, telling him the story all over again, and he knew he had been wrong. It was, without doubt, the most thoughtful and loving thing anyone had ever done for him.
So he sat, listening to the story and watching the expressions on her face as she read, thinking about the last thing his father had written to him.
Make peace with Melissa.
This was peace, and also love, and the first step in healing the secrets and lies her parents had used to destroy them.
Lissa looked up, saw him watching her and smiled. She paused long enough to shake another candy out of the package for him, waited until he put it in his mouth and then resumed the story.
It occurred to him as she read that if their child had lived, she would already have read this book countless times. But that hadn’t happened, so she was reading it to him.
He took a sip of water to stifle unshed tears, and then leaned back and closed his eyes as her voice pulled him back into the story. For the length of the book, time stilled.
It wasn’t until he heard her say something about being his own bunny that he opened his eyes. It was over. As her voice faded, a sense of peace washed over him. She’d taken the ugliness out of what had happened and for the space of a few minutes brought his mother to his bedside in the only way she could. He reached for her hand.
“I’ll bet you’re a remarkable teacher. I can only imagine how much your children love you.”
Lissa smiled. “I do love my job. I like watching their faces when they ‘get’ something new.”
“Thank you for the story.”
She nodded. “I remembered you telling me once that your mother used to read it to you before you went to bed. I hope—”
“She used to kiss my forehead every night, too,” he said, and tugged her closer.
She laid the book aside, and leaned over and kissed him squarely on the lips.
“Just a reminder that I am not your mother.”
Mack groaned. “Truth is, most of the time I can’t remember what she looked like. I just remember things about her. However, you, my love, have haunted me for years. I remember everything about you, from how you always lick the salt off your fingers when you eat fries to the fact that you like cake hot out of the oven with butter melting on it better than cake with icing. I know kissing the back of your neck turns you on, and that your eyelids flutter when you come. I loved you when I was a boy. I cannot wait for you to let me love you as a man does. All I can do is promise that I will never disappoint you again.”
Lissa was in tears. “We’re really going to do this, aren’t we? We’re going to be together and—”
It was all she could do to not throw herself into his arms.
“Oh, Mack.”
“If we’re going to pick up where we left off and fill in the blanks later, that’s where we left off.”
She started laughing through her tears. “You are a crazy man.”
“Not too crazy to marry?”
She sighed. “I will marry you because you’ve seen me without a stitch of clothes or any makeup and weren’t turned off...and because I’ve seen you without a stitch of clothes and was so turned on.”
His eyes darkened. Just the thought of coming home to her every day for the rest of his life seemed surreal. He kissed the palm of her hand and ached to take her to bed. That, however, would have to wait.
“At least something good is coming out of this chaos, and that’s you and me.”
A frown darkened her face as she thought about both the murderer and her stalker.
“What if they don’t figure out who killed your dad? What if they don’t identify my stalker?”
He shook his head. “They will. When I get back to the house tomorrow, I’m calling a security company. I’ve used them several times before. You aren’t going to be unprotected anywhere again.”
Her shoulders slumped as she absently rubbed her thumb across the old scar on the back of his hand.
“I was worrying about what a mess my house is in. Last I knew they were dusting for prints. Broken glass and your blood were all over the kitchen floor. A window is out in the back door. Everything is torn up in my bedroom, and the floor was wet from rain getting in...and then my friend Margaret told me she and the other teachers want to help me. They’ve offered to clean up the house for me, so I won’t have to go home to that.”
“That’s wonderful, darling, but remember, from now on there’s nothing we can’t do if we’re doing it together.”
* * *
Saturday morning an email went out to the elementary school personnel about the cleanup at Lissa’s house. Subsequent messages flew between the teachers as to when they would meet and what they needed to bring. Louis received the email along with everyone else, but he didn’t see it first. Reece did.
