"My brother wouldn't have murdered a kid. You're crazy."
"Well, that kid ended up in the walls of your brother's very private garage. How on earth could he have not known about it? Donald was in there all the time." She paused, thinking maybe Evan wasn't such a long shot suspect. He was boiling over with anger, which didn't seem like the reaction of a completely innocent man. "You were in there with him quite a bit. Even Colin got in there, when none of the other kids could."
"You need to shut up." He waved a finger at her, as he moved forward.
Now she was sorry she'd invited him into the very small room. There was nowhere for her to run.
"I do not need this kind of shit," he yelled. "And don't go talking to the police about Colin, either. If you do, you're going to be sorry."
"Is that a threat?" She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, trying not let him intimidate her, but he was a very scary man at the moment.
"It's a fact." And with those final words, he left the room, slamming the door behind him.
She let out a breath and put a hand on the desk behind her to steady her nerves. She might not have thought Evan was capable of killing someone before, but she did now.
Was David right? Was she wrong about the Faulkners? Was it Donald's brother who was the evil one?
She pulled out her phone and called Hunter. It rang four times, then went to voicemail. He was probably in the shower or asleep. She really wanted to talk to him, but the man was no doubt exhausted, and as soon as she told him what had happened with Evan, he'd jump in his car and drive to Half Moon Bay.
But knowing if she didn't leave a message, he'd only worry more at the missed call, she said, "Call me later when you wake up. Evan—Donald's brother came by the nursery. We had an interesting conversation. I want to tell you about it." Hopefully, that would bring a call back but wouldn't send Hunter's blood pressure through the roof. She thought about calling Max next and telling him about Evan, but that would bring questions up about Molly.
She was tangled up in too many secrets, which was not where she wanted to be. Instead of calling Max, she tried Molly. Maybe she needed to let her know that everything was starting to unravel, so Molly could be prepared. Again, she ended up with voicemail. Again, she left a short message. "Call me back, Molly. There are some things you need to know. It's important."
The door opened, and she jumped, but thankfully it was just Felicia.
"Are you all right? Who was that man?" Felicia asked.
"Someone I knew a long time ago. And I'm fine. If he comes back, call the police."
"I will. But I'm wondering if I should call the police right now. Are you in some kind of trouble, Cassidy?"
"Nothing I can't handle," she said, wondering if that was even remotely close to being true.
"You're sure?"
"I'm positive."
"Okay, then. Pamela Baker is here for her wedding consult. Are you ready? Or do you need a minute?"
"I'm fine. Send her in." She'd talk about flowers for the next hour, which would calm her nerves, and then she'd drive up to the Holman Estate and work on her garden. Everything else could wait.
Twenty-One
Hunter woke up at two o'clock on Tuesday afternoon. He couldn't believe he'd slept for so long. Checking his phone, he realized he had a voicemail from Cassidy. It had come in several hours ago. In fact, she'd called him back shortly after he'd spoken to her. That didn't seem good.
Her voice came over the speaker, and her words made him feel even worse. Evan Faulkner—Donald's brother—had shown up at the nursery? How had he found her? And what the hell had he wanted? She'd referred to it as an interesting conversation, but there had been a note of concern in her voice.
He immediately called her back but was frustrated when she didn't answer. They were certainly missing each other today. When he got her voicemail, he said, "Call me as soon as you can. Let's meet up when you're done with work."
Setting down his phone, he wandered around his apartment for a half hour, eating a bowl of cereal, checking his email, changing his clothes, and then decided he was done waiting around. Cassidy had said she'd be working at the estate today. He'd go there first, and if she wasn't there, he'd drive to Half Moon Bay.
It had been too long since he'd seen her. He missed her, and he was worried about her. They had a lot to talk about, but mostly he just wanted to see her. He had never felt so connected to a woman as he did to her. She was constantly in his thoughts. He wanted her to be the first person he spoke to in the morning and the last person he spoke to before he went to sleep.
He just didn't know if she wanted that, too. He thought she did, but she was scared. She was afraid to go for everything she wanted, because she didn't want to fail. She didn't want to get hurt.
The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but she was going to have to find a way to trust him, or their relationship would never work.
Grabbing his keys, he headed out the door. When he got to the sidewalk, he saw a familiar figure walking toward him. It wasn't Cassidy; it was Lindsay.
He inwardly groaned. He'd thought he'd made his feelings clear to her.
"Hi, Hunter." She gave him a tentative smile.
"What are you doing here?"
"I have some information that I thought you might want."
He thought her information was just a ploy to see him again, but he couldn't take the chance that it wasn't. "What is it?"
"Can we go inside and talk?"
"I'm on my way out. I only have a minute, but if it's important, I'd like to hear it."
She stared back at him, disappointment in her eyes. "All right. I was at my mom's house earlier today, and we were talking about the fire. It's really strange living next to that burned-down house and knowing someone was killed like ten feet away from my bedroom window."
"I'm sure that is strange and uncomfortable."
"When I was leaving, I went into our side yard. There's a gate between our properties. I figured the police have finished their investigation, so I wasn't disturbing anything."
"And…" he prodded.
"I found something in the dirt. It was actually on our side of the gate. It made me think that the person who set the fire had gone through our backyard. They probably came over the back fence. That's why no one on the street saw them."
"What did you find?" he asked, impatient for her to get to the point.
She pulled something silver out of her pocket. "This."
He looked at the dangly silver earring, and his heart began to pound.
"Do you recognize it? Do you think it means anything?" Lindsay asked.
As he lifted his gaze to hers, he saw something in her eyes that made him wonder if she'd really found the earring in the yard or if it was just one of hers. "I don't know if it means anything. But the police need to see it. Why didn’t you call them?"
"Because I know you and Cassidy are working together, and, well, I didn't want to take it to the police on the off chance that it was hers."
"What?" he asked. "What are you trying to say? You think Cassidy set that fire? That she lost her earring in the process?"
"She told me once that Tommy had suggested they just burn the house down, so they could all go somewhere else. I'm not saying she killed Tommy. I know she didn't do that. But maybe she decided to put their old plan into action."
Now he was glad Lindsay hadn't gone to the police with that story. He also wished her words didn't echo what Cassidy had already told him. It gave her idea more weight. He took the earring out of her palm, before she could close her fingers. "I'll ask her if this is hers."
"She'd probably deny it if it is. Unless you don't tell her where it was found. That would make her less suspicious."
"I know what to tell her. And I can read her pretty well."
"Can you?" Lindsay challenged. "You didn't know she was going to leave you the day of the prom."
"I was younger then."
"I don't understand w
hy you're being so nice to her, Hunter. She hurt you. I was there. I listened to you practically cry about her. How do you just forgive her?"
"I now know more about her circumstances back then."
"And that gives her a pass on the pain?"
"Not a pass, but maybe some forgiveness."
"I don't get it," she said, shaking her head in bewilderment. "She treats you like dirt, and you take her back. And I was nothing but nice to you, and you act like I'm the enemy."
"You were a good friend to me, Lindsay. You were nice." He wanted to find a way to lessen her anger. "And I'm not trying to treat you like the enemy."
"We were more than friends, Hunter," she said, moisture appearing in her eyes. "I loved you. I think now that you're the reason I've never fallen for anyone else. You took my heart, and I never got it back."
"I cared about you, too, Lindsay. You helped me through a tough year." He paused. "But I wasn't in love with you in high school, and I'm not in love with you now. You deserve someone who will put you at the center of their world, and that person isn't me. I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you, but that's the truth."
"So, it's still Cassidy? She's the one?"
"I think so."
"She's not going to make you happy, Hunter. She can't. She's a broken person, and, ultimately, she'll always choose to protect herself first. Is that really what you want?"
"I don't know. It's not a choice between you and her. Even if she wasn't around, I still wouldn't be the right person for you. And I'm a little surprised you would think differently. What's going on with you, Lindsay? We've been living in the same city for years. Why the sudden rush now to get back into my life? I'm missing something. What is it? Why are you so unhappy and angry?" He paused. "These emotions aren't really about me, are they? What happened to you?"
She shifted her weight and wiped her eyes with her fingers. "I was engaged last year. It ended badly. He cheated on me. Everyone told me I was lucky to find out before the wedding, but it didn't feel like luck; it felt awful. When Mom said she saw you, I remembered what a good person you were, and I thought if you were still single, I should see if there was anything left between us. Maybe we could try again."
For the first time, he felt like he was seeing the real Lindsay again. "I'm sorry that happened to you. I wish it hadn't."
"Me, too."
"But I'm not the one who's going to make it all better."
She drew in a breath and let it out. "I know. I feel like a big idiot for pushing so hard to get you to see me again. You must feel like I'm stalking you. I've been going through a lot of depression the last few months, and I just haven't been handling my life very well."
"We all go through rough times."
"I'm sorry. Anyway, that's it. I won't bother you again."
"Did you really find this earring in the yard?"
"I really did. And I still think it's possible Cassidy burned the house down. I wouldn't actually blame her for that. I know she had a hard time there. But I'll let you two figure it out while I try to get back to my life."
"You're going to be okay, Lindsay."
"I hope so." She gave him a watery smile. "You're a good person, Hunter. But you're a one-woman man, and you found your woman a long time ago. Maybe you will have your happily ever after. Good-bye."
"Bye," he muttered, as she walked down the street to her car.
Closing his fingers around the earring, he headed toward his Jeep, mixed emotions running through him. It felt like he and Lindsay had finally come to an understanding, a place of truth, but he still wasn't sure about the earring, and he didn't think it belonged to Cassidy.
As he got in the car, he set the earring down on the console. The silver caught the light, reminding him of the jewelry he'd seen in Molly's studio.
His pulse leapt. Had Molly burned down the house? Was that the real reason why she'd begged Cassidy not to tell the police about her?
He started the engine and pulled into the street. He needed to find Cassidy. They had a lot to talk about.
* * *
"That's it," Cassidy said, brushing the dirt off her hands, as she surveyed the plants that her coworker Freddie had just delivered. They now covered almost half of the massive back deck. By the end of the week, she'd have them in the ground, and the garden would really come to life. She could picture the beauty in her mind, and she was impatient to get to the end, but at the same time, she wanted to enjoy the journey.
"You have a lot to do," Freddie commented.
"I'll start on these tomorrow." She'd already finished one area of the garden, and she needed to do some prep work on the next plot of land, but it had been a stressful day, and she wasn't feeling like doing all that now.
"I can help you in the morning. We can't do any more at the Engletons until their water feature is placed," he added, referring to another property that they were landscaping.
"That would be perfect, thanks."
"Great. You need anything else?"
"No, I'm good. I'll be right behind you."
"Then I'll see you back at the nursery."
After Freddie left, she moved some plants into the shade of the deck, then grabbed her purse off the table. Pulling out her phone, she realized she'd missed a call from Hunter while she'd been helping Freddie unload plants.
As his husky voice came over the speaker, her heart twisted with both pleasure and a yearning ache to be with him. It was the way she'd always felt about him, and it didn't look like her feelings would ever change.
So why was she so afraid of something going wrong? Why couldn't she just trust in the relationship they were building? Why did she have to keep pulling back?
Was she testing him in some way? Wanting to see how far back she could pull before he'd give up on her?
Frowning, she thought that definitely sounded like self-sabotage. Maybe she needed to just stop being afraid of feeling happy, being in love. She needed to stop worrying about how things might end and just enjoy them while she had them.
Feeling better about that idea, she put her phone back in her bag and slung it over her shoulder. Then she picked up a box filled with tools that she didn't want to leave in the yard overnight and walked down the driveway to her van. She'd call Hunter from the van, or maybe she'd just drive to his apartment and surprise him.
She opened the back of the van and put the tools inside. As she leaned over, she thought she heard a step behind her.
"Hunter?" she murmured.
Before she could turn around, something hard came down on the back of her head.
She felt a screaming pain that knocked her to her knees and then she fell forward as oblivion claimed her.
* * *
Hunter pulled up in front of the Pacific Heights mansion, happy to see Cassidy's van in the drive. She was here, and he couldn't wait to see her. He jogged down the drive and saw the back of the van was open, and Cassidy's bag and water bottle were on the ground. That didn't seem right.
A terrible fear raced through him.
He ran through the open gate and into the backyard. "Cassidy? Cassidy?" he yelled.
He didn't see her anywhere. It was quiet, eerily quiet. He checked every corner of the yard, wanting to make sure she wasn't in the shed or in the crawlspace by the deck, but she was nowhere to be found.
He pulled out his phone as he headed back toward her van and punched in her number.
A buzzing sound took him to her bag. Her phone was inside. But she was gone.
There was no way she would leave her bag and phone out here. Unless she'd gone in the house? He went up the steps to the front door and rang the bell several times. There was no sign of life. Going around the back again, he tried to find another way in, but all the doors and windows were locked.
He didn't want to jump to the worst possible conclusion, but he couldn't stop himself. Something had happened to Cassidy.
But she'd said she wasn't going to be alone today. She was working with a coworker. Where the h
ell was that person?
He got on his phone and called the nursery. The woman who answered said that Cassidy wasn't there, she was working off site, but she couldn't give him any more information. Since that woman didn't know him, he asked for George. Cassidy would probably kill him for upsetting the older man, but he needed information.
"Hello?" George said a moment later.
"This is Hunter Callaway. I'm at the house where Cassidy is supposed to be working, but while her van is here, she's not. Her bag was on the ground by the back of the van, and her phone was inside."
"What? What are you saying?" George asked with alarm.
"Cassidy might be in trouble. She said she was supposed to be working with someone else here at the house. Who was that?"
"Freddie was with her for most of the day. He just got in. Hold on."
He tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for George to come back on the line.
"Freddie said she told him she was leaving right after him," George said. "That was about forty-five minutes ago."
"So, she was alone after he left?"
"Yes. What's going on?"
"I don't know yet, but I'm going to call the police."
"The police?" George echoed. "This has something to do with her past?"
"I'm afraid it does. If you hear from Cassidy—"
"I'll call you, and you do the same. I—I love that girl, Hunter. Bring her back to me."
"I will," he promised, feeling more terrified than he'd ever felt in his life.
His next call was to Max, where he repeated the same information.
"I'll be there in ten minutes," Max said. "I'm walking out the door."
"Hurry," he said, barely getting out the word. The idea of standing around and waiting for Max to arrive drove him crazy. Cassidy's life was on the line. Someone could be hurting her right now.
He paced around in a circle, trying to breathe, to calm down, to tell himself that Cassidy could have been killed on the spot, but she hadn't been. That probably meant she was still alive.
But why had they taken her? To shut her up? That didn't ring true. She didn't know that much, unless there was something they thought she knew?
Secrets We Keep GO PL Page 22
