by Celia Ashley
“Is that—?”
“Blood?” said Liam. “I think so.”
Crimson had soaked into the card like porous litmus paper. Nothing was written on the surface. Paige’s stomach roiled again as she frowned at it. “Maybe you should ask the waitress for a box.”
“For what? There’s nothing—”
“For all of that. We’ll give it to Dan.”
Liam stepped away to see to the task. Paige sat slowly in her vacated chair. How had he known where they were? She’d been watching in the Jeep’s side view mirror the whole way. There had been only one or two cars behind them, and none had been with them from start to finish.
Paige pulled her purse and sweatshirt jacket from the back of the chair and set them in her lap. She reached into the front flap of her bag for a mint to calm her stomach, fingers encountering a slip of paper. She drew it out. Cold washed like an arctic wind through her soul.
WHOSE BLOOD IS IT?
Chapter 27
“I can’t get her on the phone.”
Liam glanced from the road to Paige’s panic-stricken features. She clutched the silent phone in her hand, her gaze glued to the windshield where the last of the evening sun made long shadows across the surface of the road in front of them. Instead of going for a box, he’d headed straight outside and had a look around the parking lot. When he’d returned, he’d found Paige pale and shaking, holding the note out to him. He’d recognized the bold printing right away. Fortunately, she didn’t.
After, he’d spent a few minutes questioning the patrons at the nearest tables. He’d received vague descriptions of the height and build of the man who’d delivered the vase—none of which could be said to exactly match Raleigh at all—all of the witnesses being more intrigued by the delivery itself. No one had seen the man approach Paige’s purse. Liam left them to speak further with the local police when they arrived, wanting only to get Paige out of there.
“Stauffer or one of the other officers is on his way to Felicia’s house,” Liam said. “Someone will call you soon and let you know she’s fine.”
Paige had been insistent the note referred to her mother’s old friend, and her reasoning was sound. Who else was Paige connected to in Alcina Cove? What other person did she care about? Besides him, of course. Coming home had been her first mistake. Caring about him had been her second.
“All those people who didn’t want to talk about my parents? Maybe it wasn’t Mom or Dad they were hesitant to talk about. Maybe it was Raleigh.”
“I don’t know, sweetheart.” Given what he knew, what he had done, and what he was prepared to carry out, the endearment rang false in his ears. It had never been his intent to care for Edwin Waters’ only child. Even less to hurt her. He’d made promises in a wicked hour. They’d become very hard to keep.
“Felicia opened up to me. And now she’s targeted. How the hell does this guy know?”
Liam’s jaw tensed. He let her ramble uninterrupted, his concentration on navigating the tight curves in the road in excess of the posted speed limit. So far, Paige hadn’t noticed, her hand coming up to clutch the dashboard or the door handle at intervals in unconscious response to twists and turns.
This had to come to an end. He’d known for a while the final outcome of his dealings with Raleigh might not be exactly as anticipated. Too many variables had always existed, even before the unexpected event of Paige’s return. If he’d maintained an emotional distance, only kept his eye on her as he’d been asked, they might have survived the tightrope walk between his daily existence and his nocturnal affairs. Everything would still have begun its inevitable unraveling, but now the stakes were higher than he’d ever imagined.
“Paige?”
She looked at him, eyes wide, the phone still gripped in her hand.
Liam sighed. “You need to start listening to me. You need to do whatever I say without question.”
She thought about what he said. He witnessed the process in her mobile expression. He didn’t want her to think. He wanted her compliance. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel.
“I’ll try,” she said, “but I’m not going home.”
When the road opened temporarily into two lanes, Liam took the left, passing a line of four slower vehicles in the right. For the first time, Paige asked him how fast he was traveling. He glanced at the speedometer. “Right now? Eighty-two.”
She made no further comment, dialing Felicia’s number again. His own phone rang. Liam checked the ID and snatched the cell close to his ear.
“Gray here.”
“Yeah, I know who it is. You’re going to be a dead man, Gray, if you do anything but what you’re told.”
* * * *
Dan found Felicia Woodward. He stood a moment, waiting for his heart rate to slow, remembering, oddly, a trip to the hospital a couple of years past. This didn’t feel the same. Not at all. But it made him remember. He didn’t like fear. Tried to avoid it when he could. He didn’t like uncertainty, didn’t like the anticipation of bad things, didn’t like finding them. And yet his job made all of those things inescapable.
“You okay, Stauffer?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
Because this time he was.
Striding across the parking lot, he left Higgens waiting by the car. The woman standing in the open garage bay with her son turned at his approach. “Ms. Woodward, where’s your cell phone?”
Felicia patted her pockets. “Goodness, I don’t know. Did I leave it at home again? What’s wrong, officer? Oh, God…Paige?”
Dan planted his feet apart on the concrete floor of the garage. He nodded at young Billy, wondering if he’d mentioned his visit to the station to his mother. “Paige is fine. Something spooked her and she thought you might have been hurt. She’s been calling you, as has the switchboard. Glad to see you upright and animate.”
“What happened?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, but I believe she discussed something of what she’s experienced lately with you?” He shot another look at Billy, who remained stone-faced. Nope, hadn’t mentioned it to his mom. Probably because the incident had also involved being underage and drunk. Dan had warned him about the behavior. He hadn’t cited Billy despite his admission, mostly because Woodward was sober when they talked, but also because Dan had been that age and up on that hill once or twice. Billy hadn’t been much help with a description, either, since he’d been inebriated when the man approached him in the dark. Didn’t matter now, though. They knew for sure it was Raleigh.
“Yes,” Felicia said. “Paige and I talked about it.”
“Good. I’m going to have an officer escort you home when you go.” The woman’s eyes widened, deer in the headlights. “Just as a precaution,” he added. “Is there anyone who could stay with you or, as a better choice, somewhere else you might stay for a little while?”
Felicia’s expression changed, hardened. She lifted her chin. “It’s my home. That Raleigh’s not going to scare me out of it. Because that’s who we’re talking about, right? He’s back.”
“He’s back,” Dan said. Billy’s hand lifted and dropped gently onto his mother’s shoulder. She patted his fingers. Dan recognized stubbornness in the set of both jaws, both pairs of eyes. It was no wonder Paige liked the woman.
“I’ll stay with my mom,” Billy said. “I have a late job to finish and then I’ll pack a few things and we can go.”
“We’ll stop for groceries on the way,” Felicia informed her son in an aside. “You finished off the cookies last time you were there. I had nothing to offer Paige.”
Yes, thought Dan, nothing to absorb all that whiskey. Cookies, though, would not have been his first choice. With a nod at the two of them, Dan started back across the lot. He spoke into the radio on his shoulder loop to inform dispatch the search was over. He called Gray next, wanting a little more information out of him.
“Hey, tell Paige Felicia’s fine. She’d forgotten her
cell phone at home. Her son’s going to stay with her for a while.” Dan listened while Liam relayed the news to Paige. Although he couldn’t hear her response clearly, the relief in her voice was plain. Dan went on. “I’m damned glad the blood wasn’t Felicia’s, but if not hers, then whose? We don’t even know for sure it is blood. That hasn’t been determined.”
“I know that,” Liam stated in a flat tone.
Dan frowned. “What’s up?”
“We need to talk.”
“The two of us?”
“Yeah. We’re ten minutes outside of town.”
“I’ll meet you at the station.”
* * * *
Paige paced the interview room, skirting behind the chairs. Dan had taken Liam somewhere else, somewhere they hadn’t wanted her to join them. Did they think she wasn’t frightened enough already without them discussing in secrecy some dire conclusions they’d both drawn?
A policeman came in, offering her a cup of coffee. She took it out of politeness.
“I put in two creams, two sugars. That okay?”
Paige nodded. “Perfect. Thank you.”
She waited until the officer had gone before setting the cup down on the tabletop. Her third time past, she picked it up again, warming her nerve-chilled hands on the thick paper surface. A few minutes later, she heard a commotion outside the partially open door. Carrying the coffee with her, she went and peered into the hall.
“Chief, thanks for coming back in. Sorry to disturb you. This office.”
Dan touched the arm of a man in a police chief’s uniform at the same moment he found Paige watching. He reached for the door and pulled it shut, leaving Paige standing on the other side with the coffee cup clutched to her chest. She decided to drink it. The night might be another long one.
Half an hour later, the door opened again. She rose from the seat she’d taken, expecting to find Liam there. Instead, the officer who’d brought her coffee stood in the hall. “I’m Officer Jonathan Green and I’m…I’m supposed to take you home.”
“To Nashville?” Based on her earlier conversation with Liam, her southern home was the first thing to pop into her mind. The officer appeared temporarily thrown. He recovered with a small laugh, as if he thought she’d made a joke.
“No, to the Timeless in town. Once I see you safely inside, I’ll station myself outside for the night. Overtime, miss. Glad of it.”
“All-righty then,” Paige muttered to herself as she dropped the empty cup into the trash can. “May I speak to Liam before I leave? Liam Gray,” she appended, in case this man had no idea.
Green inhaled, expanding the vest under his shirt. “I don’t believe he’s available right now. I’m sure you’ll see him soon.”
And that was that. The officer had positioned himself in the hallway in such a way as to block her from turning in the direction Dan and the Chief had been heading earlier. She strode toward the front door. Officer Green came behind. Outside, she climbed into the back seat of a patrol unit. Like a criminal. She supposed insurance didn’t allow passengers up front. Even so, as soon as the door shut and she found herself separated by a presumably bullet-proof, or perhaps fluid-proof, panel from the officer sliding behind the wheel, she began to envision not ever getting out. She’d heard the rear doors of police cars didn’t open from the inside, like a family vehicle with childproof locks. Willing herself calm, she slumped against the seat, holding her purse on her lap.
A few minutes later, the unit pulled up in front of the bed and breakfast. The inn’s owners were waiting out front to hasten her inside. Green preceded them to the room and entered to check the space before allowing Paige to cross the threshold. After ascertaining she was safely locked inside, the officer announced from the other side of the door that he would be stationed on the street. Resolved to imprisonment and lack of answers, Paige changed into comfortable clothes and turned off the lamp. She dragged the chair up to the window to watch the road outside, her phone on the sill beside her elbow.
She couldn’t imagine what was taking Liam so long with Dan. She hoped Dan didn’t still suspect him of something—what, she really couldn’t imagine. He hadn’t broken into the cottage, he had no connection with Raleigh, he certainly hadn’t soaked his own blood onto the paper in the few minutes she’d been in the bathroom. However, he had been found in the cottage, she had no clue who he knew or didn’t know, and whatever was on that paper—blood or food coloring—the card had been dry so had been prepared in advance.
Appalled at the split-second shift from confidence to suspicion, she left the chair and strode across the room, where she retrieved the box of photos from the dresser. Resuming her seat, she held the box on her lap in the dark. For sixteen years her father had thought about her, wondered, perhaps even continued to love her. What hold did Raleigh have over him that he maintained silence for all that time? Was it only fear for his daughter and his wife, despite what she’d done? Somewhere inside, Paige held the key to Raleigh’s downfall, or so that man believed. There had to be a way to play that card, draw him out.
Closing her eyes, she tried to bring the elusive scene of childhood to the forefront of her consciousness. When she’d been young, her mother had always soothed away her nightmares, told her to forget them, focus on the wonders new to each day. Had this been one of those horrors prone to rear their heads during slumber, relegated to the subconscious by the mind’s self-protective functioning, and then urged to remain there by her mother’s nurturing ways?
She thought of her father then, and wished with an ache in her chest for the time back. True, she might not have liked the man he’d become, but at least she would have been able to make up her mind for herself.
Paige observed the activity in the street dwindle to nearly nothing and realized with a start that almost two hours had passed. A car door opened and slammed shut, out of sight around the front of the bed and breakfast. Paige got up to turn the television on, pausing when she sighted a shadow moving across the thin strip of light that showed beneath the door. With a gasp, she hopped toward the handle to test the lock. Finding it secure, she leaned her ear against the wood to listen.
Muffled footsteps fell on the runner as someone strode to the end of the hall and returned, pausing outside her door. She lifted the phone in her hand, preparing to dial the police. Abruptly, the wood beneath her ear vibrated. She jerked her head back as the knock repeated.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Dan, Paige. Let me in.”
Paige switched on the nearby lamp and unlocked the knob. Before she could turn it, Dan had done so and stepped inside. Paige glanced into the hallway, looking for Liam.
“Where is he?”
“He’s not with me, Paige. Liam Gray has been arrested.”
Chapter 28
“No.” Even though the room was empty now, she kept saying the word into the quiet, over and over. Liam hadn’t done those things. He hadn’t been involved. Her ability to judge a man’s character was not so fucking impaired by the upheaval of her childhood that she couldn’t recognize the fundamental qualities of a criminal.
Paige punched the pillow with her damaged hand and gave a little cry. Then she proceeded to swear profusely.
Liam had been charged and brought for arraignment before the district magistrate. Dan had made sure to tell her the conditions of his bail. No contact with her at all.
“You’ll have to stay here for now,” he’d said. “You can’t return to the cottage with him right next door, at least not before the hearing. To be honest, I’d like you to head back home tomorrow bright and early. There probably will be no need for you to testify. He confessed to everything. It was Liam in your cottage, like I thought. Not Raleigh.”
“But Raleigh—”
“They were working together, Paige. Whether to frighten you off or to find out what you remembered, I don’t know.”
“Raleigh broke into Liam’s place. What about that?”
> “A ruse? Retaliation of some sort? I don’t know. Raleigh’s always been a loose cannon. When he went away years ago, the town thought they were well rid of him. Apparently not.”
“And you’ve known more all along than you’ve ever told me.”
“I’m sorry, Paige. I’m…I’m sorry.”
Hours later, sleep eluding her, Paige threw herself face first onto the bed, still too angry, too shocked and disbelieving, for tears. “Fuck,” she said for the hundredth time. Poor Liam, his hair would stand on end at the words coming out of her mouth. But he wouldn’t hear them. Not ever again. In a sane world, she should be relieved by that knowledge, but all she discovered was an extraordinary, deep sorrow. After only a handful of days of knowing Liam, the thought she’d never speak with or see him—a man who’d been charged with having a hand in terrorizing her—left her empty and hollow. The world wasn’t sane. No, it was not. But the idea of Liam doing this thing ventured into a realm she couldn’t recognize.
“Or maybe it’s just a case of ‘like mother, like daughter,’” she said, tossing the pillow to the foot of the bed. But though Debra Waters hadn’t been a good wife, she’d been a loving mother. Paige belittled her mother’s memory with her lack of understanding. As Liam had said, she needed to forgive. Did that sound like the words of someone intent on harm?
Paige rolled over and sat up, reaching for her vibrating phone. She stared at the text from Liam with her heart sinking into her stomach, and then it split in two.
* * * *
Liam threw items of clothing from his dresser into a duffel bag on the bed. He’d opened the windows and lifted the shades to let the cool, moisture-laden air circulate through the house. Anyone in the dark outside could see him, but he didn’t care. In fact, that was the point.
Every few minutes, he paused to listen. The house was quiet tonight. He used to believe the spirit inhabiting the house was Alice, but recently he’d begun to realize guilt fostered that belief. Alice wouldn’t follow him here, to a place she’d never known, and she certainly wouldn’t be separated from their daughter. Whoever it was had gone silent, as if waiting. It shouldn’t be long. If spirits could be disturbed by changes in a home, like renovation, how much more disruptive would the reckoning of a sudden, heartbreaking truth be?
