The Heart of Christmas

by Brenda Novak

  Maybe his brother would have understood, at least slightly, if Rex had ever bothered to fully describe the chain reaction that had been set in place so long ago. But he couldn’t even talk about it because he couldn’t talk about Logan—not to anybody—and that was where it all started.

  It was impossible to get close to his brothers without endangering their lives, anyway. So there was little point in putting any effort toward changing their opinion of him. He figured he served them best by staying away, and that was what he tried to do.

  That didn’t mean he didn’t miss Dennis and Mike, though—or that it was easy flying solo so much of the time, especially at Christmas when the memories of what once was crowded close and reminded him of all he’d lost. Eve had been such a welcome respite—a gift. He craved her touch, her warmth, her steadiness.

  If only he could lose himself in her one more time....

  But he couldn’t spend three weeks with her and remain a mystery. She was trying to figure out who he really was. And the more she pressed, the more dangerous things would become—for both of them.

  I’m not in trouble, he wrote to Dennis. But the reality was that he was beginning to think his “trouble” would never end.

  A noise in the living room alerted him to the fact that Mrs. Higgins was up, walking the floor. Apparently the sleeping pill hadn’t done its job.

  He felt for her. Some nights seemed to last forever. But he couldn’t keep her company.

  After closing his laptop, he got up to pack.

  18

  He was gone. He had to be. Eve had driven past Mrs. Higgins’s place a number of times—twice late at night—and had yet to find Brent’s Land Rover. She hadn’t heard from him, either, not in a whole week, which meant the past seven days had passed as slowly for her as any on record. He’d told her not to expect more than three weeks with him, but he hadn’t warned her that it might be much shorter than that.

  Had something terrible happened to his sister? Some altercation with her ex? Or had something else come up?

  Eve hoped it wasn’t the fact that she’d called Dennis and Dennis had alerted Brent. But that was what the timing suggested. If it was anything other than what she’d done, Brent would’ve called to say goodbye, wouldn’t he? The last time she’d seen him, he’d told her she was the first woman he’d wanted to be with, really be with, since Laurel. A guy didn’t go from that to nothing without some trigger.

  Maybe, since she’d approached their eventual parting so flippantly that day in her kitchen, he figured she wouldn’t care. But she’d only said those things because she’d thought she’d have more time to cope with his leaving, because she hadn’t wanted to face it right then.

  “This sucks,” she muttered as she sat alone at Just Like Mom’s. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing at the restaurant. It was nearly ten, which was when they closed on weeknights, and she’d had supper at home. She just knew that Brent liked this place. He’d said as much the day they’d had breakfast together in Jackson, had asked if she wanted to eat here instead. So Just Like Mom’s felt like somewhere he might go if he ever came back, and then she’d get to see him and possibly learn why she hadn’t heard from him.

  “This is crazy, Eve,” she told herself. “What do you think—that he’s going to come strolling through the door at any moment?”

  Maybe in a perfect world. But it didn’t happen. Her waitress didn’t appear, either, although Eve had been waiting to pay for her pie and herbal tea for at least ten minutes.

  She opened her wallet to see if she had enough to cover the bill so she could leave it on the table and scoot out. But she didn’t have the cash.

  “Damn it,” she grumbled—and wanted to swear with even more vigor when Noelle Arnold walked in. Noelle had a friend with her. They were both dressed in the skimpy uniforms they wore at Sexy Sadie’s, so Eve guessed their shift had just ended.

  The second Noelle spotted her, Eve wished she could slip under the table—or somehow disappear—but that was impossible, since her waitress hadn’t collected her credit card yet.

  “Hey!” Noelle came up with her friend lagging behind by half a step. “How’s it going?”

  Eve managed a smile. It was, no doubt, a frail imitation of her usual smile, but the best she could muster under the circumstances. She hadn’t been this depressed in ages. “Fine, thanks.”

  “You still seeing that guy you took home a couple of weeks ago? God, he was hot. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a better-looking guy in my life!”

  Eve gritted her teeth, trying to control her emotions so she could speak. “No. We were never together. He was just...passing through.” But she could be pregnant with his child. She hadn’t done the test yet. She’d been waiting until she felt she’d be able to rely on the results. But she’d driven halfway to Walnut Creek to purchase a pregnancy test where no one knew her. It was there, waiting, under her sink.

  “Bummer!” Noelle cried. “I’m so sorry! I could tell you were really into him. You’ve had such bad luck with men lately, haven’t you?”

  “I don’t mind being single,” Eve lied. “I’ve hardly missed him. You know how Christmas is at the inn. It’s my favorite time of year.”

  Noelle must’ve heard the tears in her voice, because she cocked her head to one side as if the sudden change in pitch surprised her. But before she could follow up, her friend grabbed her hand and started yanking her toward a booth. “Enough socializing. Come on! I’m starving!”

  “Okay! Okay!” Noelle allowed herself to be led away but turned back to make a parting remark. “At least you got to sleep with him while he was here. The rest of us could only dream about it!”

  Was that what she’d been reduced to? Being glad she’d had sex with some guy who didn’t care enough to even let her know he was leaving town?

  “Pathetic,” she whispered, and that pertained to her and Noelle. She was about to get up and track down her waitress, who was probably cleaning up in the back instead of taking care of her final table, when the bell rang over the door a second time—all the more noticeable since the restaurant was almost empty.

  When Eve realized it was Ted and his wife, she nearly groaned aloud. If there was anyone she’d rather not see, other than Noelle, it was Ted. Ted with Sophia only made matters worse.

  I can’t catch a break.

  “There you are!” he said as he led her replacement in his life over to the table.

  “You’ve been looking for me?” Eve pretended as if she hadn’t been ducking his calls. She’d been avoiding all her friends, except for Cheyenne. She couldn’t avoid someone she worked with. Cheyenne had definitely tried to question her about Brent, but Eve had managed to skim over his sudden absence as if they were still in touch by phone, and she hadn’t given anyone else the chance to discuss it with her. For the second week in a row, she hadn’t attended coffee on Friday and, although she’d received several texts asking where she was, she’d responded to everyone with the same few lines. She was so busy this time of year, just couldn’t make it—that sort of thing.

  No one knew she was walking the floor night after night, waiting and hoping Brent would call.

  Texting was a godsend when it came to these situations; it allowed her to reassure everyone without having to confront them face-to-face. But she hadn’t sent off the same pat message to Ted. In the text he’d left her, he’d said he had news to share about Little Mary and wanted to talk to her. That suggested he had more to say than he was willing to type into a phone. So she’d put off responding. She’d had to. She was afraid he’d call the second she texted him, because then he’d know she had her phone with her and that it was turned on.

  “Have you checked your messages lately?” He gave her a disgruntled look. “I’ve been trying to get hold of you.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been meaning to call. Just been so busy.”

  “Good thing I saw your car out front.”

  Yeah. Good thing, she thought sarcastically. Sh
e was interested to hear what he’d learned about Little Mary. But even a conversation that started out on another subject would eventually turn into questions about Brent, and she didn’t want to talk about him, didn’t want to acknowledge that he was already gone and she’d been a fool to get involved with him—just like Ted and everyone else had told her.

  “What’s up?”

  Sophia gave her a sympathetic look, as if she could see right through her, which didn’t help. Eve didn’t want them feeling sorry for her, any more than she wanted them feeling smug about so clearly being right.

  “I got in touch with Mabel Cummings’s great-granddaughter,” Ted announced, obviously proud and excited. He gestured for his wife to slide into the booth so he could, too. “Her name is Emma Wright, and she lives in Virginia.”

  Eve sent another glance toward the kitchen, once again cursing her waitress. She was pretty sure she’d been forgotten; no one had come out to greet Noelle and her friend, either, let alone take their food order. The women were getting so impatient and vocal that Eve guessed the noise would bring someone out soon—but not soon enough for her to escape this get-together with Ted and Sophia.

  Eve turned her water glass in a circle. “Nice! It’s wonderful that you were able to track her down. What did she have to say?”

  “That her great-grandmother’s sister—Harriett—never claimed it was John.”

  “So she spoke again?”

  “Apparently so. Once she returned to her family in South Carolina, at least. She told her sister that he was innocent and one of the most ‘misunderstood’ people she’d ever met.”

  “Then...why did she burn his train set?”

  “Who knows? Mable couldn’t answer that, didn’t even remember hearing about a train set. But she said her great-aunt told her grandmother that John wasn’t to blame.”

  This captured Eve’s attention in spite of everything else that was going on in her head and her heart. “Then who was?”

  “She had no idea.”

  “And she claimed John was misunderstood? That’s an interesting way to characterize someone who was so disliked by the people in his community.”

  “It certainly doesn’t lead me to believe she blamed him for her daughter’s death.”

  “No, but it sounds like she didn’t suggest any other possible culprits. And, blame or no blame, that could be her opinion. Doesn’t mean he was innocent. Maybe she loved him so much she couldn’t bear to consider the possibility that he’d murder their child.”

  “I could see that kind of blindness on the part of a wife,” Sophia chimed in.

  Because of her great love for Ted, of course. Eve barely resisted making a face. “Did Emma know her great-grandmother’s sister turned into a recluse after Mary’s death?” Eve asked, to distract herself as much as anything else.

  “I gather she did,” Ted replied. “She told me that Harriett remained very withdrawn until the day she died.”

  “In South Carolina?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you mention the neighbor theory?”

  “I did. Mable liked the idea. She’d rather not think Harriett’s husband did the deed. But she’s never heard anything about the neighbors being involved, so if one of them was to blame, Harriett probably didn’t know it.”

  “Are you going to try and track down the names of the boys? Follow up with their families?”

  He pursed his lips. “Eventually. But I’m going to look in what I think is a more fertile area first. I still have so many of Harriett’s relatives to approach. Emma gave me a whole list, including another of Harriett’s nieces who’s almost a hundred years old. I think my time is better spent finding out what she might know.”

  “Wow! A centenarian? Does she still have her memory?”

  “According to Emma, she’s as sharp as ever.”

  “That’s fabulous!” Eve felt some genuine excitement. This was more information than anyone else had dug up. Ted was actually talking to people who’d been alive when Harriett was! “Now I can see why you’re happy. When will you get to talk to her?”

  “She’s in assisted living. Emma’s going to set up an appointment for me to see her.”

  “Where does she live?”

  “Alabama.”

  “You’re really going to fly clear across the country? Can’t you...Skype or something?”

  “She doesn’t own a computer. It’ll be easier for me to communicate in person. That way I’ll get to see any memorabilia she still has, too.”

  Eve nodded.

  “Would you like to go with me?”

  “Yes, except I can’t leave the inn right now. Not at Christmas. And I’m sure you don’t want to put it off until after.”

  “I’d rather not wait.”

  “Then go. You’re doing a thorough job. You can update me when you get back.”

  “If you’ll answer your phone.”

  When she offered him a sheepish smile, he winked at her. “That wasn’t so painful, was it?”

  “Ted, stop,” Sophia chided him, but Ted had known Eve his whole life and wasn’t about to let his wife dictate how he interacted with her.

  “It wasn’t too painful,” Eve said, “as long as it ends there.”

  His eyebrows rose. “So you don’t want me to tell you what I know about Brent?”

  The waitress finally appeared, looking flustered. “I’m sorry,” she said. Then she lifted a finger to indicate she’d be right over and hurried to take Noelle’s order first, a wise decision given that Noelle was ready to storm out.

  “You don’t know anything about Brent,” Eve said.

  “Then maybe that was someone else I followed out of town.”

  This took her aback. “You followed him? Why?”

  “Because it was three in the morning, and I found it strange that he’d be out and about.”

  Eve folded her arms. “No stranger than you being out and about.”

  “Except that I have a stepdaughter who was having such painful cramps she was in tears and needed some ibuprofen.”

  “Yet you took the time to follow Brent.”

  “I thought you might thank me.”

  She couldn’t deny that she was curious. “What night was this?”

  “Last Monday.”

  “Where’d he go?”

  “I tailed him to Jackson. Had to drive that far to find a store that was open, anyway.”

  “And then?”

  “It looked as if he got a room at that B and B on the edge of town. I can’t remember the name.” He looked to Sophia for help.

  “You said it was the one that’s painted blue,” she reminded him.

  Eve broke in so they wouldn’t belabor that small detail. “I know which one it is,” she said. How could she not? It was the place they’d stayed when they went to Jackson together.

  “Right. Anyway, his car was there when I headed past on my way back about fifteen minutes later, so I can only guess that he stayed the night,” Ted said.

  Was he still there? Eve wondered. So close?

  But she knew chances of that were slim. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  At the impatient tone of her voice, Ted brought a hand to his chest. “You’re kidding, right? How many of my messages have you ignored?”

  Seeing that the waitress was on her way over, Eve grabbed her purse and stood before handing her the credit card. “You know where I work.”

  “I wasn’t all that eager for you to have the information, to be honest,” he admitted.

  “Then why tell me now?”

  “Because Cheyenne feels you two have unfinished business. She mentioned that he didn’t say goodbye. As far as I’m concerned, you deserve the chance to confront him about that, especially if he’s going to act all possessive while I’m at your kitchen table, as if I have no right, as one of your best friends, to warn you about him.”

  “So this is a pissing contest?”

  “I’m trying to hold him accountable for his
words and his actions.” He got to his feet, too, and so did Sophia, but something—probably Eve’s sense of purpose—made him narrow his eyes. “Where are you going?”

  “Home,” she said. But it was a lie and she was sure they knew it. She was heading to Jackson. It was a long shot that Brent would be there after a whole week, but if he was, she had to know if his sister was okay—or if she’d chased him away by calling his brother.

  19

  Thunder rumbled across the sky, loud enough to shake the walls. Rex had been home for a week, but his house didn’t feel like the same place he’d left. Maybe that was because his approach to furniture and decor suddenly seemed less calculated in its practicality and more devoid of the things that brought comfort and reassurance, especially when he compared it to the coziness of Eve’s bungalow, her B and B, even the rest of Whiskey Creek. It was also nerve-racking to have to watch his back much more carefully now that he was back where The Crew might expect to find him. It felt like the old days.

  “When will this end?” he muttered to himself as he stood to one side of the window and peered out through a crack in the blinds at the storm lashing his small backyard. If The Crew had somehow managed to learn his address, this would be the perfect night to strike. Provided they came in sufficient numbers, they could swarm his house, break in from more than one point of entry—and his neighbors wouldn’t even hear any shots that were fired.

  He wondered how long it would take for Marilyn or someone else to find his body. A day? Two? He hated the idea of her coming upon such a gruesome scene. She wouldn’t know how to get hold of his family, he realized, and pulled his phone out of his pocket so he could leave her a message.