Gone by Dark (Carolina Moon Book 2)

by Christy Barritt

  Joshua stole a glance at Charity, and she offered a slight shrug. He’d talk to her about it more later. “Can you give some examples?”

  “Andrea was her father’s princess. Sure, he was hard on her. But not nearly as hard as he was on her brothers. Lawrence especially seemed bitter about it. I heard the way he talked to his sister. They argued quite a bit, but I’m not sure about what.”

  “And your assumptions are all based on some conversations you’ve overheard?”

  “There were rumors around school. Lawrence was dating a teacher there at the time. He struck me as someone I didn’t want to cross.” Austin paused and glanced at Charity. “And my second suspect was Will Redmere.”

  Joshua glanced at Charity and saw her cheeks had reddened. “Who’s Will?”

  “He was my mom’s boyfriend,” Charity said softly. “One of them, at least.”

  “Whenever Will came to pick up Charity, his eyes stayed on Andrea just a little too long. It made me uncomfortable.”

  “Did you tell the police this?”

  “Of course. Do you think I wanted them looking at me? They were wasting time and energy if they investigated me.”

  Joshua glanced at Charity, who suddenly looked very pale. What wasn’t she telling him? He wanted to find out. But he had a feeling she was the one who’d need to raise the subject.

  CHAPTER 20

  Charity shivered when she got back into the truck. She couldn’t wait to close the door and lock it. She hadn’t felt that way until Mr. Johansson had mentioned Will.

  She shivered whenever she heard Will’s name. She wished she could permanently forget about him. She knew the questions were going to come from Joshua about the man, but Charity really didn’t want to replay that time in her life.

  Instead, she thought about her old teacher. Mr. Johansson seemed basically the same, only a bit older. He was still tall and thin and had some of that charisma that actors seemed to have. At times, he could be brooding. Other times, he seemed exuberant. There had been a lot of girls at the school who had a crush on the young teacher.

  Was Andrea one of them? Charity tried to search her memories for something to indicate that she had been. Nothing came to mind, though.

  Joshua climbed inside, and the scent of his leathery cologne filled the vehicle. For some reason, the aroma brought a measure of comfort to Charity.

  He cranked the engine, and a chilly breeze flooded through the vents. The air outside was sticky hot, so Charity welcomed the AC. She glanced once more at her former teacher’s house. The man’s wife, Heidi, he’d called her, stood on the porch, still watching them.

  “I want to hear your opinion on all of that in a minute.” Joshua pulled away from the curb. “But first, let me ask you this. While we’re in the area, I’d love to eat at my favorite restaurant. Do you mind? It’s my treat.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Great. You’ll love it. Best fish on the East Coast.”

  She figured they’d talk more about Mr. Johansson, but they waited until they got to the restaurant. The place was on the ocean with a huge deck overlooking the water. Jimmy Buffett played in the background, and the place’s mascot was apparently a gigantic boogying mackerel.

  “The Dancing Mackerel. Best seafood ever, huh?” Charity questioned, looking around at the gaudy decorations, which mostly consisted of cartoonish murals of sea life on the walls.

  He grinned. “I promise you. Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

  He put a hand on her back and guided her inside. As soon as he touched her, fire rushed through her blood. It had been a long time since any man had that effect on her. Maybe even never.

  “I think we got here at just the right time; after lunch but before all the tourists come in for dinner.”

  “Excellent.”

  Charity inhaled the scent of fish and French fries and Old Bay seasoning. At once, the smells brought back memories to her. She and her mom had never come to the Outer Banks together, but Andrea’s family had invited Charity to come with them once.

  It had been a glorious weekend. Charity was probably twelve. They’d stayed in a beach house only a block away from the ocean. During the day they’d gone to the beach. At night the family had fish fries and shrimp boils and had climbed Jockey’s Ridge or flown kites and gone fishing. She smiled at the memories. She had so few good recollections of her childhood that she held on to whatever good ones she could.

  The waitress seated them outside at a table by the water. Charity didn’t miss how the woman openly admired Joshua. It wasn’t surprising. The man was strikingly handsome.

  And divorced.

  Charity wondered what had happened. Had he instigated it? Had he cheated?

  No, she had to stop thinking like that. It was the influence of her mom. According to her mom, every man cheated. Every man was disposable. Relationships were meant to be as temporary as a bad cold.

  As she snapped back to reality, she saw Joshua studying her across the table. “You look distracted.”

  She shook her head. “Just a lot to think about.”

  “I’d love to talk about all those things. Let’s order first, though. I highly recommend the boatman’s stew and the flounder.”

  “That sounds good.”

  When the waitress reappeared, Joshua ordered for both of them, glancing back at Charity several times to get an approving nod before moving forward. Finally, they both settled back to talk.

  “What did you think of that conversation?” Joshua started.

  Charity sighed and leaned back in her seat. “I don’t know. Which probably isn’t very helpful. I always liked Mr. Johansson. I thought he was a good teacher. I thought he really cared about his students.”

  “That could all be true.”

  “And just because he sent me some emails, that doesn’t mean he crossed any lines. There was nothing inappropriate. Besides, there were other people at that school earlier that day. The principal was there, the janitor, the lawn guy, and maybe even a few other students.”

  “I had no idea there were that many people there,” Joshua said.

  Charity nodded. “I assumed you knew that. I assumed it was all in the reports.”

  He grimaced. “I think some information may be missing. I just can’t figure out what might have happened to it or why.”

  “Maybe the FBI kept it?”

  Joshua shook his head. “We should still have copies.”

  “The mystery deepens . . . yet again. Maybe me being here isn’t the best way to find answers.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  She shook her head. “As long as the Whitakers are in town, I’m a target.”

  “I’m sorry that things turned so sour between all of you. It sounds like the family meant a lot to you at one time.”

  “At first, I think Ron and his family were angry with me because I left Andrea in the woods to get help.” She shrugged, guilt pressing in on her again. “Honestly, I was angry at myself.”

  Joshua reached across the table and put his hand over her wrist and gave it a little squeeze. “Nothing would have probably changed if you stayed in the woods, Charity, except that maybe you’d be either dead or missing also.”

  She nodded. “I know. I tell myself that, too, but the guilt just doesn’t seem to go away. Anyway, I think after their initial anger at me passed, it grew into a different kind of anger because I couldn’t remember enough about the man so that we could locate him.”

  “That’s a lot of pressure to put on a sixteen-year-old.”

  She nodded again. “I know. Believe me, I know. But at the time, I thought I deserved any anger they had for me.” She pulled her hand back and leaned toward him, her throat tightening. “Anyway, on a purely logical level, I wouldn’t have had time to kill her and bury her body.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I called the police at five thirty. We left school around four, and a witness placed Andrea and me walking near the bridge at four fif
teen. That must have been right before we decided to cut through the woods. I wouldn’t have had time to kill her and bury her.”

  “Even if you did, there was only a limited area where you could have buried her. I know the police searched that entire stretch of woods.”

  Relief welled in her. He understood. “Exactly. I had dirt on me and even some blood. But that was only because we did struggle. I fell on the ground. I was the first one the man grabbed. If Andrea hadn’t helped me, I wouldn’t have gotten away.”

  “And that’s where the survivor’s guilt comes in.”

  She swallowed hard, not sure her saliva was going to go down. “Exactly.”

  Just then their food came. It was a relief, actually, because maybe now she wouldn’t have to talk about this anymore. It had been harder than she expected it to be.

  CHAPTER 21

  Joshua marveled at how easily their conversation came as they ate. They turned the subject from anything heavy and instead chatted about the beach, dream vacations, and favorite foods.

  Man, Charity is beautiful. Did she even realize how gorgeous she was? Her blonde hair blew in the breeze, wild and free. Her smile, when she gave it, could stop someone in his or her tracks. She was a sight to behold, for sure. The best part about it was that she didn’t even realize it.

  She tucked her hand under her chin and looked at him a moment. “Do I have part of my lunch stuck somewhere on my face?”

  Great, he’d been staring. He looked away before she saw the truth in his eyes, and shook his head. “No, not at all. Are you ready to head back?”

  She nodded. “That would be great. Thank you.”

  He dropped some money on the table and headed back to his truck. The name Will Redmere lingered in his mind. He wished that Charity would open up to him. But he tried to give her space, sensing that she needed it.

  When Charity was tucked safely inside, he climbed in also, catching a quick whiff of fruit. Her shampoo, maybe? Whatever it was, he felt like he could inhale the scent all day and never grow tired of it.

  “Thank you for lunch. It was lovely.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She stared out the window for a few minutes in silence. Finally, she cleared her throat and looked down at her hands for a moment. “So, as you know, Andrea saved my life that day in the woods when she was abducted. But there’s more.”

  “What’s that?”

  “As you probably know by now, my mom went through men like dirty tissues. She always had to have someone in her life after my dad died. Some of them ignored me, some of them flirted with me. But there was one who . . . attacked me.” Her voice cracked.

  Joshua held his breath, waiting to hear what she said next. Part of him didn’t want to know, but only because it was hard to think about what Charity might have gone through.

  Her hand went to the scar at her collarbone. “A man named Will always looked at me funny, made me really uncomfortable. I tried to tell my mom, but she blew me off and said I just wanted attention. One day when I was home after school, someone knocked at the door. It was Will.”

  Joshua heard the emotion in her voice and wished more than anything he could fix things. But there was no way of fixing the past. Instead, he reached over and squeezed her hand. When she didn’t protest, he held on, not wanting to let go.

  “He forced his way inside, even though I told him my mom wasn’t home. He cornered me, grabbed my hands, and pinned them. I fought him, but he pulled out a knife and held it at my throat.”

  “You don’t have to finish if this is too hard, Charity.”

  “No, I want to. I want you to understand.” She stared out the window a moment. “When he pulled out the knife, Andrea burst into my house. She’d heard me scream. She told Will that she’d called her dad and he was on his way and that he better get his hands off me. Her sudden arrival made his hand slip, and he left me with this nasty reminder of what happened.” She touched her scar and frowned. “But thankfully that’s where it ended. Things could have turned out a lot differently if Andrea hadn’t shown up.”

  He squeezed her hand again. “This was the Will that Austin mentioned?”

  She nodded. “After that point in time, Will always gave Andrea dirty looks when she was near.”

  “You mean your mom didn’t break up with him?”

  “She didn’t even believe me.” Charity let out a bitter laugh. “She told me I couldn’t have all her attention and that I should stop making up stories. Truth was, I didn’t have any of her attention.”

  Disgust churned in his stomach. “Did you call the police, or did Andrea call her dad? Ron Whitaker should have pressed charges—after he took you to the hospital.”

  Charity shook her head. “My mom talked to Ron, but nothing ever came of it. I don’t know. My mom put some butterfly bandages over my cut, and she and I never spoke about it again.”

  “Did you ever consider that maybe Will was behind Andrea’s abduction? Maybe it was some kind of twisted revenge or something.”

  “He had a heart attack and died about a month before she was abducted. Andrea had always been my protector. I let her down when she needed me the most, though. I should have done more.”

  “It was unfortunate that you fell. But none of this was your fault.”

  “She would have never left me . . .”

  He let that information settle in. Charity had definitely been through the wringer during her formative years. Her no-good dad died in a boating accident, along with the only woman who acted like she loved Charity—her grandmother. Her mother turned to drugs and men. The men mistreated Charity. Then Andrea was abducted.

  Why hadn’t Ron Whitaker done anything? He was the police chief at the time. He was obligated as an officer of the law to step in.

  But that didn’t help Joshua to know what to say at the moment. He finally settled with “I’m sorry, Charity. I can’t imagine. It makes me mad to hear what you went through, to be honest.”

  “Thank you. I’ve had a lot of years to try and come to terms with everything.”

  “Have you?”

  “Maybe that’s another reason why I came back here. I’ve got to put all of this behind me. For good this time.”

  He knew what that meant. She had to leave Hertford; she wasn’t here to stay. Joshua also knew that he couldn’t move away from his son, that even if something came of this attraction he had to Charity, the likelihood a relationship would work out was slim to nothing.

  He was better off to keep his distance . . . if only that wasn’t proving to be so difficult.

  CHAPTER 22

  Andrea had always been her protector. Yet when Andrea had needed her the most, Charity had failed her. That was the resounding thought floating around in Charity’s mind for the rest of the drive home.

  She’d lived with guilt for so long that it felt normal, like something that wasn’t supposed to go away.

  She stared out the window, ideas turning over in her head. Had Andrea come back from the grave to exact revenge? Had she set her house on fire to show her grave disappointment with Charity? To make her pay for her failures?

  That just didn’t seem like the Andrea she remembered.

  But what if Andrea was in trouble now, and she was reaching out to Charity for help? Charity couldn’t turn her back on her again.

  She let out a sigh, not sure what to think.

  There was one thing she knew, though: having her hand in Joshua’s felt good.

  And that thought scared her as well. Even though she was working to overcome her fears, some of them seemed ingrained in her. Ron Whitaker was a cop and had let her down. Bradley was a cop, and he’d only used her to advance his own career. So what was in all of this for Joshua?

  Maybe he was just trying to make a name for himself here in Hertford. Wouldn’t everyone in town be impressed if he solved the crime that had turned the whole place upside down? He’d probably make police chief over something like that.

  Maybe a position
like that would even help him get back custody of his son.

  Charity shook her head. She had to stop thinking like this. There was a good chance that Joshua was just a genuinely good guy.

  Maybe overcoming her trust issues would be the first step in reclaiming her life.

  She squeezed Joshua’s hand and offered him a smile.

  ***

  “You mind if we stop by my house real quick?” Joshua asked. “I just need to grab something to take over to Ryan. It would save me a trip later.”

  “Of course.”

  He pulled off the highway onto the road leading toward his place.

  A few minutes later, they rumbled down the driveway. He noticed Charity averted her gaze from the remains of her old house, as if she didn’t want to face the memories. He couldn’t blame her.

  “I’m just going to get out and stretch my legs,” Charity said.

  “Sure thing.” He stepped closer to the house and froze.

  His front door was open.

  Something was wrong.

  “Charity, I need you to get back in the truck and lock the doors.”

  She looked up at him in surprise. “Okay . . .”

  He tossed her his keys. “Take these, just in case you need them.”

  “Joshua, you’re scaring me.”

  He pulled his gun from the ankle holster. He’d worn it today, just in case. “Just do what I ask. Please. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Finally, she nodded. With trembling hands, she climbed inside the truck door and hit the locks. Her wide, doe-like eyes stared back at him from the other side of the windshield.

  With Charity safe, Joshua approached the house. Carefully, he nudged the front door open and stepped inside. He remained against the wall, keeping an eye out for any sign that something had been disturbed.

  He’d locked his door when he left. He always did. Coming from the big city, it was second nature to him.

  A quick scan of his living room indicated that nothing was out of place. Remaining on the perimeter of the room, he made his way to the kitchen. He checked behind the refrigerator, under the table, and in the pantry, but there was no one. That only left the bedrooms.