Finding Bliss (Bliss #1)

by Cassie Strickland

  My eyes found the man again – he was giving me a wolfish smile, knowing what he was doing to me – and I flushed brighter, clearing my voice. “Hi. Uh, sorry. Clara Vincent.” I held out my hand for him to take.

  He shook it, but it felt like his thumb caressed the side of my hand almost intimately. My eyes grew round as he introduced himself to us. “Nice to meet you, Miss Vincent, Mr. Raiden. I’m Detective Wilde, Wesley Wilde. You can call me Wes if you’d like.” His smile never fell from his face, but it seemed like he wanted to eat me.

  I was highly uncomfortable.

  Wes Wilde – the name fit him perfectly – seemed to have caught onto that fact, and his expression morphed. He became serious, almost scary. The transformation was dramatic, changing him from sexy to lethal.

  Jeez.

  This guy was something.

  “The information I was given is a bit sketchy. Can you explain to me what’s going on exactly?” Detective Wilde questioned us.

  “Come on in,” Grey told him. “You can relax while you read.”

  The detective was obviously confused. “Read?”

  “Yeah. Once you read it, you’ll have a better understanding.” Grey linked our hands and led me down the hall, into the living room.

  When my eyes found Sam’s, I widened them a bit and tilted my head. She gave me a what the hell look and then saw Detective Wilde walking behind me. Her eyes bugged out, and then she quickly hid it, pasting on a grin.

  “Go on and take a seat,” I offered, pointing to an empty spot on the couch next to Sam. “This is Grey’s family. That’s his sister, Samantha, his mother and father, Emma and Brad, and his friend, Adam. Guys, this is Detective Wesley Wilde.”

  He gave them all a pleasant expression, seeming open and confident. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You’re not from around here,” Brad pointed out, eyeing the detective. “Haven’t seen you before.”

  “You’re right. I was just transferred to Bliss. I started last week.” He gave Sam a wink. “This has been my first real call since I got here, and it’s only because everyone else was out. Big change from Miami.”

  “Wow. That is a big change. I vacationed down there a couple of years ago,” Sam commented, intrigued. I could practically hear her panting after him.

  “Change is good sometimes. I’ve got a sister and a couple of nephews in Asheville. It’s nice to be close to them.” His face shut down a bit, losing a bit of its friendliness.

  There was more to that story, but I didn’t ask.

  “Well, welcome to town, Detective,” Emma chirped, glancing between Sam and Wesley. Her mind was working, her matchmaking skills wanting to come out and play.

  We had other matters to attend to first.

  “You were called because of a letter,” I informed him and grabbed it from the coffee table. I went to hand it to him, but he held up a hand to stop me.

  “Procedure first,” he murmured as he pulled some gloves from his jacket pocket.

  Once he had them on, I offered it again, sitting next to Grey. “I just found this. It was sent to me some time ago, but it’d been misplaced.”

  Detective Wilde’s eyes became guarded as he studied the letter. “How was it misplaced?”

  I gave him the specifics of the letter, explaining how I’d just moved here due to my brother’s death and how Paige brought me my things. I knew it was his job to investigate, but I could tell he was trying to probe me for guilt.

  He might be nice and cordial, but he wasn’t trusting.

  Detective Wilde sat back and got comfortable on the couch before he began. He showed nothing as he read. Nothing. I had no idea what he was thinking. He finished and placed the letter on the coffee table. He linked his hands together between his legs and rested his elbows on his knees, thinking.

  I was a bit on edge. I was hoping for a little bit more than that. Any reaction would have been nice.

  Something on his face shifted quickly. I didn’t know what, though. He pulled off the plastic gloves with a snap and tucked them back into his pocket. “I have some questions,” he finally stated.

  “I can imagine,” I replied, still feeling edgy.

  “Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?” His gaze bore into mine, intensely. “From this letter, it seems that you and your brother didn’t speak for some time.”

  I glanced at Grey quickly, my stomach plummeting. I didn’t realize I’d have to go into detail about that. I should have. All of this started with Jonathan and me.

  “Yes,” I answered, my voice wobbly.

  He didn’t miss it. Hell, no one missed it.

  “Why? There’s a lot of insinuation in this letter, but no hard facts other than it was a suicide note addressed to you.”

  I sighed and leaned against the back of the couch, breaking our stare. I looked up at the ceiling, praying for some guidance. I didn’t want this man to know. He was a stranger.

  “Does she need to go into all that with you?” Grey asked, protecting me.

  “I believe it would do a load of good if Miss Vincent did. It will help shed some light on this situation…fill in some major blanks.” The detective might’ve been talking to Grey, but he was watching me.

  “I think it’s best if we go,” Emma murmured, ill at ease.

  “I agree. Come on, Sam, Adam,” Brad said while standing, holding out a hand for Emma.

  “I need to speak to you, as well,” Wesley informed them, slightly surprised.

  Emma shook her head, not budging. “No, if Clara needs to go through this with you, we won’t be here for it. She’s already-”

  “Stay.”

  The world silenced the room. Tension built, making the air thick, strained.

  I licked my lips and explained, “It’s fine. I trust you, all of you. I know that what’s said here will stay here.”

  They were a bit hesitant to sit back down, but they did.

  “You’ve never spoken of this with them?” Detective Wilde questioned, surprised yet again.

  “We’ve figured out the important parts, but no,” Brad enlightened him. “Clara’s only told Grey.”

  “How well did you know Jon Vincent?” he asked everyone.

  Grey cleared his voice. “I was his best friend.”

  Detective Wilde’s brows rose. “And now you’re dating his sister. One, from this letter, looks a lot like his wife?”

  “Hey, now,” Grey warned.

  Detective Wilde held up his hands. “I’m just asking questions. I don’t know who Jon was or what all this is fully about, but it’s my job to figure it out. By this letter, there is a lot of seriously messed up stuff that went on around Jon’s life. I want to get to the bottom of it.”

  I stopped him from objecting any more. “It’s fine, Grey. As he said, this is his job. Let him do it.” I took his hand in mine and held it tightly, needing him to get through this. I’d never openly talked about this in a room full of people, so I was terrified.

  I gave the detective my attention. “I didn’t know Grey until he called to tell me that Jonathan had died. I’d never even heard his name. This,” I pointed a finger at Grey and me, “happened after I arrived. It doesn’t factor into anything from my past. Jonathan duped everyone in this town, Grey and his family included. He was really good at hiding his true nature.”

  “Can you elaborate on that?” the detective pressed.

  Grey wrapped an arm around my back and hauled me closer as encouragement, to let me know that he was there.

  Feeling a bit better, I went on. “It all started when my parents died.” I gave him the details about their death and what Jonathan told me later.

  Detective Wilde ran a finger along his bottom lip as he listened, but then stopped me, suspicious. “Not only did your mother commit a murder-suicide, but your sister-in-law did, too.”

  I blinked a couple of times at that. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, Detective, but yes, that’s right.”

  “Hmm… Go on.”

>   I looked at everyone in the room. They gave me reassuring, kind looks, but they were going to know the truth about me now. I just hoped I wouldn’t lose them.

  I blew out a breath and continued my story. I told him everything. He didn’t interrupt me again and listened intently to each word. Small shifts of his eyes and mouth were his only tell, showing that he wasn’t as unaffected as he tried to play off.

  Sam and Adam looked like they were ready to commit murder as I got close to the end. Emma openly wept against Brad’s chest, and Brad seemed to be on board with Sam and Adam, his face red with rage.

  “And that was the last we heard from him. Up until Grey called me that is,” I finished, proud of myself. I was able to go through everything without crying. Not even once did I get close to breaking down.

  “You could have reported him. The doctors at the hospital should have called the cops. He would have gone to jail for a long time,” Detective Wilde pointed out, confused.

  If only I had done that. It would have probably saved many girls a lot of heartache.

  Bella’s little squeal from the swing interrupted my thoughts, directing them to a new path. I wouldn’t have had her if I’d spoken up. She wouldn’t have existed.

  I breathed deeply through my nose and let all my unsettled feelings flow out of me. “You have to understand, Detective-”

  “Wes, please,” he interjected.

  “Wes.” I nodded. “I wasn’t in a very good place, Wes. Not only had I lost my parents, but I had lost my innocence, my child, my ability to conceive again, and what I thought was my best friend and brother. I was a mess. And I was for a long time after that.

  “I knew that if I’d pressed charges – and believe me, the detectives tried to get a name out of me – I would have had to tell a room full of people what he did to me. What started out as consensual-“

  Wes interjected again. “Clara, if what you said is true, none of that was consensual. You were being brainwashed from an early age.”

  “I understand that, Wes, but feelings have a mind of their own. I was ashamed. Completely. I felt dirty, worthless. I couldn’t tell people what happened, only to see them look at me with the same revulsion I’d already felt for myself. I wouldn’t have come back from that, emotionally, at the time. I was too fragile.”

  “I can see that,” Wes replied softly.

  “I ended up in a psychiatric facility for three years. No one knew about Jonathan for two of those years. It’d taken a lot of intense therapy before I opened up about that night. I’m just now able to speak about it in front of people. It was too much to take at the time.”

  Wes’s eyes gentled. “It’s okay, Clara. I’m not judging you.”

  “I need another drink,” Sam growled and grabbed the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. She poured herself a bit and then shot it back, then poured some more. She relaxed into the couch again, her glass in hand and her eyes on fire with fury.

  Grey let go of me and handed me my forgotten glass. I gave him a small, thankful smile as he wrapped his arms around me again. I took a little sip and glanced back at Wes.

  Wes cleared his voice and snapped himself out of whatever he’d been thinking. “Why did you come here? After all that, what made you come to Bliss? Was it the baby? Your niece?”

  “No, actually. It was Galen.” He already knew who Galen was from my story. “He convinced me to.” I told him the rest of the story. Meeting Grey, finding out Jonathan was a pastor, seeing Stacy’s picture, and finally the room (I might have left out how we’d initially found it).

  He sat up straight when he heard this. “You already knew about the room? The pictures and windows?”

  “That’s what happened that day?” Adam questioned quietly, staring at the floor.

  Ignoring Adam, it was Grey’s turn to speak. “Yes, we did. Clara didn’t see the hall of windows, but I told her about them later.”

  “That’s right,” Brad chimed in. “A friend of mine is closin’ them up in his free time. Grey and I are debatin’ sealin’ up the hidden room entirely.”

  “I wish I could’ve seen that before you did all that.” Wes appeared troubled by the news. “I’d like to see the room, though.”

  “That’s fine. We’ll let you in. I’d taken pictures of everything before I tore it down, though. I figured we’d need it eventually. I can get you copies.”

  I had no idea Brad did that. I shuddered a bit and took a big swallow to still my frazzled nerves.

  Grey, feeling this, rubbed his hand up and down my arm for comfort, though he kept his gaze on the detective, saying, “Nothin’ else has happened since then. We figured it was in the past now. We would’ve kept it intact if we knew this was gonna happen.”

  Wes ran his finger over his bottom lip again. He seemed to do this when he was deep in thought. “Do you have any records of Jonathan’s? I’d like to see if he kept a list of children that came to his home over the years. I know that he’s dead, but there might be girls out there that need help after what he supposedly did to them.”

  “Do you think she’s lyin’?” Emma asked, her motherly instincts ready to come out to defend me.

  Poor Wes reared back at her hostility. “No, not at all. Right now the only proof we have is in a letter from a dead woman and what happened to Clara.” Quickly, he swung his head toward me. “And I do believe you, Clara.”

  “I understand, Wes. No one has come forward to say Jonathan did anything wrong. Yes, the windows are creepy, but he could’ve been a peeping tom and never once touched a girl. Am I right?”

  “That’s correct, Clara. It’s sad to say, but that’s exactly it. These kinds of cases are tricky.”

  “All the records for anythin’ involvin’ the church or their program are at the church office,” Grey told him. “Jon and Stacy left their assets to Clara and me, one being the church. Without a pastor, we closed the doors. Everythin’ should still be there.”

  “I found his laptop,” Brad added, “but I haven’t been able to gain access to it.”

  “If you can give me that, I can see if one of our techs can hack into it,” Wes explained, intrigued by the idea.

  “I’ll bring it to the station in the mornin’.”

  “And what of Stacy’s parents?” I asked, not wanting to get involved with any further investigation into Jonathan’s activities. I was hoping never to know.

  “I have their name. I’ll look them up and give them a call.” It wasn’t a call he was looking forward to – I could tell.

  “Can you give them my number? For Bella?”

  “I can do that,” he agreed, smiling kindly.

  “And after that? What’s gonna happen now?” Grey asked, uneasily.

  Wes’s expression turned grim. “I’ll let you know once I know.”

  Chapter 22

  Clara

  I watched as the first glimmers of sunrise slowly made its way across my bedroom wall. At first, they were barely there, just a small bit of light coming through the windows. Then, as the sun rose higher, they started expanding, brightening the room. I wanted to get up and watch it crest over the mountain tops.

  Then again, I didn’t.

  Grey held me close to him, his body surrounding mine in a cocoon that provided safety, trust…love. I wouldn’t have moved for anything.

  The shock of yesterday was still with me. My heart hurt for the girls out there that Jonathan abused. I knew it was a possibility when I first found out about his position in Bliss. I had hoped that I was wrong, though.

  Even though my reasoning, in my mind, were just and pivotal for my wellbeing, my guilt was getting the better of me. It was a wretched, nasty feeling that sinks its talons into you. It didn’t give up easily, either. Guilt wanted to bring you down, no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

  And I was fighting mine.

  Nightmares plagued the few hours of sleep I’d gotten. Images of Jonathan with nameless, faceless girls tormented my sleep. Over and over again, I saw him
hurt them in despicable ways.

  My guilt seemed to be winning the battle.

  What have I done?

  Silent tears trickled out of the corner of my eyes, wetting my hair, as the questions assaulted me.

  Was I so self-absorbed that I didn’t realize what I was doing?

  Was I so trapped in my grief that I couldn’t see the real danger behind Jonathan?

  Did I let this happen?

  But I honestly thought Jonathan’s obsession was only with me. It never crossed my mind that I’d be putting others in harm’s way if I didn’t tell. Still, I felt like it all came down on my shoulders, and I did nothing.

  Not a thing.

  Even the wonderful, protective arms holding me did nothing to help fight my guilt.

  It was all my fault.

  If I had told, if I would have had the courage to say something, Stacy would be alive, maybe better and with her parents. Those young girls wouldn’t have that horrible, dirty man torturing their dreams like he did mine. No matter how messed up I was, I should have known he would do it to someone else. He was too sick not to.

  Why couldn’t I have realized that?

  I felt vile, undeserving in a different way than I’d ever felt. Jonathan made me feel that with so much in life, but this was on me. This time it was me that was the monster. I didn’t deserve the comfort Grey was offering me. I didn’t.

  Slowly, I eased his arms off of me, choking on my sobs. I stayed as quiet as I could so that I wouldn’t wake him. I knew that if I did, he’d try to talk to me about this. He’d want to know what was wrong. I couldn’t let him have that. It was my burden to bear. It was mine. And he needed someone worthy of his affection, of his kindness, even if I didn’t want to let him go.

  I rushed to the bathroom and closed the door softly. My sobs threatened to tear me apart, but I swallowed them back over and over again. I couldn’t let Grey hear me. I stumbled to the shower, turning it on as hot as I could. I hoped that the water would take away the shame I felt.

  I was already naked from the night before. Grey and I didn’t make love, but I wanted his skin against mine as he held me. Before the shower could heat all the way, I stepped under the spray. The cool water caused me to gasp in shock, but the shock was better than the misery I was feeling. I sat in the middle of my large shower, crossing my legs in an Indian style and hanging my head, as the water beat down on my scalp and back. It warmed and then got hot. Really hot. It scalded my skin, though it was a welcoming pain.