“I was calling to see if you’d had a chance to look into Brad’s movements, but it sounds like that’s a bit on the back burner at the moment?” She knew she shouldn’t be too disappointed, Vivi was doing her a favor; but still, knowing what Vivi’s answer would likely be, a wave of frustration swept through her.
“I’m so sorry, Matty. I haven’t had a chance to look into it. I could give it to an intern, but I figured it would be better if I did it myself.”
Matty’s shoulders slumped, but she put on a brave face. “No, no need to be sorry, Vivi. You’re doing me a favor so whenever you have a chance. I just thought I would check in.”
“Thanks, Matty. I know you must be anxious and I think I should be able to get to it tomorrow. I’ll give you a call and let you know as soon as I know anything. Or,” she added, “if I’m going to be delayed.”
Matty thanked her and hung up. Not knowing what else to do, she closed Brad’s computer and slid it onto a shelf. Walking into the kitchen, she made herself a late lunch and tried to bring some calm to her frazzled thoughts. But eating alone and in the silence of the house wasn’t very comforting, so as soon as she finished, she decided to keep herself busy by searching the house.
She wasn’t sure what she was looking for or if she would find anything, but it gave her an excuse to keep moving and not make a decision about what she should, or would, tell the authorities. She scoured the books on all the shelves, opened cupboards and drawers, and even explored the heretofore never-entered basement. She had assumed it would be a standard, dank basement, but when she descended the stairs she found a lovely extra guest room and full bathroom, as well as a large, tidy storage area. The windows were small, but there was a charming, large arched doorway that led out, she assumed, onto the lawn on the side of the house facing the cows. Because the vegetable and flower gardens lay on either side of the house and she’d had no reason to make her way to where the door came out onto the yard, she hadn’t seen it before.
But as charmed as she was by the basement room, she focused her attention on the storage room, and after another hour, she’d found nothing more on the people or places she’d investigated that morning.
She had found pictures, though. And a lot of them. Most were of family and she had to admit, if only to herself, how odd it was to be sitting in her half brother’s basement looking through family pictures where her father, a man she’d met even fewer times than her half brother, looked back at her, smiling and comfortable. As if his actions thirty-some-odd years ago hadn’t shredded the fabric of a young woman’s life—Matty’s mother—or set the course for her own.
Looking at a photo of her father and his wife Sandra, Brad’s mother, Matty didn’t wish she’d been a part of that family. No, she was happy with who she was—and who she was, was a result of having lived through what she had. But still, she wished it had been easier on her mother.
As a child, she’d lived with the belief that her mother was bigger than life and would always protect her. But Carmen Viega had been a twenty-one-year-old immigrant from Puerto Rico when she’d moved to the Bronx and given birth to her only child. Now, as an adult, Matty comprehended how scary it must have been for her. Given where they’d lived, there were never any promises of life or death, and more often than not, there was little a parent could do to keep her child safe. But Carmen had always tried. And they were both the stronger for it.
With a sigh, she put Brad’s family pictures aside and started to go through another set. These were more like the photos Brad had left her. There were pictures of Japan after the tsunami, Rwanda, the Sudan, Afghanistan, and even some of tornado-ravaged towns in the US. The pictures were labeled with places and dates, but no names. Matty was just beginning to wonder if Brad had a little bit of a savior complex and was involved in rescuing more than just animals when the dogs started their collective barking, signaling the arrival of a visitor.
She checked the time on her phone, it was much later than she’d thought, closer to dinner than lunch, and though Dash hadn’t called, she assumed it was him making his way back. She smiled at the thought of having Dash nearby—her day had been filled with enough turmoil and his calming presence would do her good. But even as the awareness flowed through her, a hint of discomfort made itself known. She didn’t want to talk about what she’d been thinking or feeling or discovering the past day or two and she just hoped that maybe Dash would see that and let it slide, let her just escape it all for a short time. Again.
***
Dash pulled his truck up into Brad’s drive, put it in park, and killed the engine. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he walked in the door so he took a few seconds to prepare. He’d been thinking of little else all day—wondering just what Matty was up to and why she didn’t seem to want to talk to him about it. Though he didn’t like it, he could grudgingly admit that maybe it was because they were both in new territory when it came to dealing with one another. Maybe that explained her hesitancy. But maybe not.
Because he was at such a loss as to what was going on in her mind, he’d spent quite a bit of time thinking about what he wanted—from Matty and from and for himself. He knew with dead certainty that he wasn’t going to let her push him out completely and he was pretty sure that wasn’t what she really wanted either. But he also knew he needed more from her than just easy companionship and sex. He didn’t expect her to treat him like she’d known him her whole life, but he needed some indication from her that she was interested in building a real relationship—one with real give and take and compromise and work, if needed.
Sliding from his seat, he approached the screen door. She was standing in the kitchen, watching him with the same wary expression he probably held on his face.
“Matty,” he said as he walked toward her.
She said nothing but held out her arms to him. He came to her and she wrapped them around his waist and leaned against his chest. It felt good. Like she wanted his familiarity, his comfort.
“Matty, what’s bothering you? What’s going on?” he asked after a long moment. Although he felt her stiffen in his arms, what he felt the strongest was her pulling away—not physically, but mentally, emotionally. He took in a deep breath, let it go, and dropped his arms back to his sides.
“Nothing,” she said. “I’m fine,” she added, stepping away.
He frowned. “I never said you weren’t fine, but something is on your mind and talking about it might help.”
She eyed him for a moment. “I’d rather not talk about it, Dash. If you don’t mind.”
He did mind, and he decided to tell her so. “Look, don’t tell me it’s your writing, because I know it’s not. Some weird shit has been happening around you. Stuff that may or may not involve Brad, and even knowing you the short time I have, I’m pretty sure you’re not letting sleeping dogs lie. If you talk to me, if you tell me what you’re thinking, maybe I can help.” He tried to keep his words reasonable, but even he could hear the frustration he was trying to hide. Frustration with her, with Brad for putting her in this weird spot, for the situation in general.
She took a few more steps away from him and turned toward the big picture window. For a moment, she just stared out across the pasture below them, a picturesque scene of cows and wildflowers. Then she spoke.
“Look Dash, I appreciate the offer, but Brad left a trail for me to follow. I know it might sound crazy to you, but I need to do this. I need to follow it. And I need to do it before I can share it with anyone any more than I already have.”
It sounded reasonable. Only it wasn’t. “Did it ever occur to you that I might be part of that trail?” he asked.
Her head came around and her eyes shot to his. He could see the question she wouldn’t ask, because to ask it would bring her into the conversation he wanted to have. So he did her a favor and answered anyway.
“Brad called me the day before you came into town, the day, I believe, you finally agreed to come up here. He was very insistent that I come
at that specific time to vaccinate the cows.”
Matty crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe because he wanted it taken care of before he left and it was the day that worked best for him.”
Dash inclined his head. “It’s possible, but I don’t think so. The cows weren’t due for their shots for another month. Beth, my scheduler, thought it was a little unusual, since Brad has always been meticulous with his records, but he was insistent.”
She eyed him, clearly weighing this new information. Dash would have preferred that she talked to him because she wanted to, not because he might serve a purpose. But at this point, he opted to give her a reason that was more in line with the logic she seemed to be feeding him than what she may or may not want.
“It’s possible, Dash.” She let out a deep sigh. “But I’m just not sure, and until I’m sure, I want to do this on my own. I really feel like I need to do this on my own.”
“Why?” It was a simple question, but at the heart of the issue, and they both knew it.
She turned back to the window and waited several beats before answering. “Because for some reason he trusted me to do it. He didn’t ask you or Vivi or Ian. He left the trail for me.”
“And that means you have to do it alone?” he pressed.
Matty nodded. “It’s how I work. How I’ve always worked. I know this isn’t one of my books with fictional characters. This is a real person. I’m not sure what he wanted me to find and because I don’t know what he intended, I feel like I need to respect what I do know—that he left information for me, not for anyone else.”
Dash pressed his lips together. He couldn’t say he was surprised to hear this from her, but he was still disappointed. Intellectually, he understood what she was saying, but he also heard something deeper in her tone. Maybe it was pride or maybe it was a declaration of independence from him, but he was all but certain that there was something keeping her from talking to him other than the unknown wishes of a half brother she’d only talked to three times in her life—a man Dash probably knew better than she did.
So he had a choice to make: stay and hope he could get her to talk or go and give her what she wanted, time alone to work it out. Neither option gave him a good feeling, but he knew, for his own sense of self, which one he had to choose.
“Okay,” he said. She turned to face him as he came closer. “Do what you need to do and I’ll leave you to it.” Raising his hand to her face, he traced his thumb along her cheek before dipping his head and brushing a soft kiss there. “Let me know if you need me—call anytime,” he added before stepping away.
Judging by her furrowed brow and frown, his response wasn’t what she’d expected. “You’re leaving? You don’t have to leave,” she said, confirming his impression.
“Yeah, Matty, I kind of do.”
She drew back and her eyes narrowed. “So, you’re saying if you don’t get your way then you’re just going to leave?”
Dash’s stomach twisted at her words but he forced himself to stay focused. Reaching up again, he cupped her face in both his hands so she couldn’t look away. “I am not leaving you. You told me you needed to do whatever it is you’re doing on your own; I’m trying to respect that the best way I know how while still respecting myself.”
“And by staying with me you’ll lose respect for yourself?”
He hoped it was anger driving her derisive tone, but at this point he wasn’t sure. “As appealing as it can be at times to be used for sex, or as a distraction, now isn’t one of those times.”
She tried to turn away from him, but he held her still and continued. “You want to do this on your own, but you want me to stay and make you feel better. It sounds like something couples should do for each other, right? Only you don’t really want me to help you feel better, you don’t want me to help you deal with whatever it is you’re discovering, you don’t want me to comfort you because that would mean I would have to understand. And in order for me to understand, you’d have to talk to me, if only just a little bit. No, what you want is for me to distract you. To take you away from what you’re finding, what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling. But you don’t want me to be any part of it. I’m not willing to play that role, not right now, at this point in our relationship. I want to be your partner, Matty, not your doormat.”
He took another deep breath and intentionally softened his tone. “And just to be very clear again—I’m not leaving you. This is what I assume will be the first of many bumps in our relationship. We’ll hit them, like everyone else, get jostled around a bit, and then find our footing again.”
He rested his forehead against hers and looked into her eyes. “Now, go do what you think you need to do. I’ll call you to check in, and when you feel like you want to talk, call me. Anytime.” He didn’t want to let go and walk away, but he knew he had to if he wanted his relationship with Matty to stay on solid ground. So he brushed one kiss across her lips, then another across her cheek, turned, and walked out.
CHAPTER 12
IT WAS LATE THE NEXT MORNING, maybe even early afternoon, when Matty watched the sun crawl through the window and spread into the bedroom. She hadn’t slept at all during the night so, after tossing and turning for ages, she’d gotten up to give the dogs an early breakfast and then gone back to bed and tried again. Judging by the light now, she’d at least been able to grab a little bit of sleep, even if it hadn’t been restful.
The conversation with Dash the evening before kept ringing in her ears, and like cycles of grief, she’d gone through what felt like every emotion possible—from anger and righteousness to loneliness and fear.
Her cell rang, bringing her out of what was promising to be another first-rate spiral into either self-pity or rationalization. Grabbing the phone, she hit the answer button before looking at the number—at this point, she wasn’t too picky about distractions.
“Hello?”
“Were you asleep?” Charlotte asked from the other end of the line.
Matty sat up and rubbed a hand over her eyes. “You’re back from Greece?” Charlotte was an independent financial consultant who worked mostly with the IMF and the World Bank. Lately, she’d been spending a lot of time in Europe.
“Yes, just now. What were you doing asleep? You never sleep this late unless you’re sick or, well, I don’t know what else.”
For a second, Matty thought about telling her best friend that she was fine. But the truth was that she wasn’t—for more reasons than one—and if anyone would understand, Charlotte would. And so she spilled the beans, about everything. It took longer than it should have; Charlotte interrupted more than once to point out that she’d thought the trip to Windsor was a bad idea from the get-go. And she threw in a few choice curse words for good measure, especially when Matty told her about the body in the truck and Bob’s toe. But by the end of the saga, when she relayed her last conversation with Dash, much to her dismay, Charlotte was laughing.
“It’s not funny,” Matty pointed out.
Charlotte cleared her throat but couldn’t quite stop chuckling altogether. “You’re right, it’s not funny that your estranged brother brought you into some weird-ass shit, and it’s really not funny that some poor guy got killed and landed in your truck. And maybe the worst part is knowing someone mutilated one of the poor dogs. But I take it back, maybe going to Windsor was the best thing you’ve done recently. After all, this Dash guy sounds like an interesting catch.”
“He’s not a fish, Char.”
“No, he definitely has more backbone than a fish. I just would have loved to have been a fly on the wall last night.”
“So you could bug me even more than my last conversation with Dash has?”
Charlotte laughed again. “No, so I could actually see what it’s like when you’re confused by someone.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” Matty retorted, even though she kind of did. And leave it to Charlotte to point that out.
“You know exactly what I mean. B
elieve me, honey, no one knows better than I do what our childhoods did to us. We learned early and well what it might cost to be involved with the wrong person. And so we spent a great deal of our time not getting involved at all. And now you’ve met someone who makes your instinct to protect yourself war with some other, more primitive, instinct.”
“You make me sounds like a character in Clan of the Cave Bear,” Matty said.
Suddenly, all the teasing left Charlotte’s voice. “You’re not a character in anything, Matty. This isn’t fiction, and all joking aside, you need to figure out this thing with Dash; but also, don’t be a jerk about the Brad thing. I’m with Dash on that one. Whatever trail Brad left you—who gives a rat’s ass if he left it for you? You don’t owe him anything and you certainly don’t owe him anything that might put you in danger. Tell Dash, tell Vivi, tell Ian. At this point, I think the more people who know about it, the safer you’ll be.
“And I also agree with Dash that it’s possible Brad orchestrated the two of you meeting for a reason. Seriously, I don’t know where this misplaced sense of pride has come from, because you’ve got to be crazy to think you can sort all this out on your own. And even if you could, to what end?”
Matty pursed her lips, wanting to deny the reality of what Charlotte was saying; there was nothing like a best friend to ruin your day. When she heard Charlotte parrot the situation back to her, it did sound ridiculous that she was keeping it to herself. Charlotte was right that she didn’t owe Brad anything. Maybe it was a misplaced twinge of familial duty that was driving her to find the answers, but that didn’t mean she had to do it on her own.
She sighed. “You’re right. I don’t—” she paused. “I don’t really know what’s gotten into me. When I hear you say it, it makes perfect sense why you think I’m crazy—why Dash must think I’m crazy.”
“I can tell you what’s gotten into you. Dash. And in more ways than one, from the sound of it. But you’re trying to protect yourself by keeping him out of everything, except your bed, whether it’s rational or not.”
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