Pine Lake
Page 14
She glanced down at the chain pooled in her hand. “What are we going to do? This is evidence. We can’t keep it to ourselves.”
“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Jack said. “This doesn’t change anything. We already know Anna was on the bridge the night she died. The killer dumped her body in the water. The discovery of her necklace between the floorboards doesn’t tell us anything about her death we didn’t already know.”
“Then there’s no reason for the killer to worry. There’s no reason why he would have been on the bridge last night.”
“No reason that we know of. But the necklace does tell us something about you. If you saw what happened that night—”
“Don’t.” Olive turned with shadowed eyes. “I don’t want to think about that. I don’t want to think that this could have ended years ago if only I’d remembered. Maybe Jamie Butaud would still be alive.”
“You can’t think like that. For all we know, Jamie’s murder is unrelated to Anna’s.”
“Do you really believe that?”
He thought about everything Nathan had told him the day before. Two young women murdered fifteen years apart, connected by the same tattoo that linked each of them to Tommy Driscoll. Jack didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but at the very least, he needed to find out the county sheriff’s whereabouts on the night of Jamie’s murder.
“Jack?”
He glanced at Olive. She reached across the table and took his hand, placing the necklace gently in his palm and then closing her fingers around his. “You loved her very much, didn’t you?”
“It was a long time ago. We were kids.”
“Some things you don’t get over.”
The haunted look was back in her eyes and Jack thought again about his conversation with Nathan Bolt. Olive’s dad had died in a terrible accident for which she blamed herself. Might still blame herself even after all these years. On the surface, she seemed like a happy woman, content and well adjusted. But deep down, she had secrets whether she remembered them or not.
She rose and went over to the railing to stare down at the dock. Jack hesitated for a moment and then got up to join her. The sun was up now, dappling the water lilies. The air was warm and redolent with the loamy scent of the lake.
Jack wished he had nothing more pressing than a day on the water with Olive, but a murderer was out there somewhere getting nervous and more dangerous by the minute.
“I should go,” she said as if sensing his disquiet. “The security people are coming this morning and then I have to get to work. There’s still so much to be done before school starts...” She trailed away into silence. “About that necklace...”
“What about it?”
She briefly touched the back of his hand. “I really don’t remember ever having seen it. I’m not lying about that.”
“I never thought you were.”
“I know how much you want to solve Anna’s murder. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”
He shrugged. “You’ve nothing to be sorry about. None of this is your fault. Not Anna’s murder, not Jamie’s, any of it.”
“Yes, but what if I do have hidden memories of that night? I can’t help but wonder how your life might have been changed if only I’d remembered what happened.”
“Maybe I like my life just fine the way it is.”
“You almost sound convincing.”
He straightened, gazing down at her with a pensive frown. “You carry a lot of guilt on your shoulders, don’t you?”
She smiled. “It’s kind of my thing. And yours is downplaying your feelings. I know how deeply you loved Anna. I could see it on your face every time you looked at her. I used to wonder what it would be like to have someone look at me like that. Sometimes I still wonder.” Her tone was self-deprecating but her smile turned wistful.
That smile did things to Jack. The dreaminess. The open yearning.
He scowled at the sparkling water as his restlessness edged into an unexpected longing. “I’ll always grieve for what might have been, but for Anna’s sake, not mine. She deserved a long and happy life. But I haven’t been carrying a torch for her all these years. I’m not still in love with a dead girl.” He turned. “Anna’s ghost doesn’t haunt me, Olive. And her memory has nothing to do with how I feel about you.”
He heard her breath catch. Her eyes were very blue as she stared up at him. Clear and yet somehow unfathomable. Earnest and yet deeply guarded. “How do you feel about me?” she asked on a near whisper.
He didn’t answer. Instead he reached out and smoothed back her hair, letting his fingers tangle in the russet strands as their gazes clung. If Jack had sensed even the slightest resistance, he would have let the moment slip away. But Olive didn’t contest, just the opposite. She leaned in, her lips slightly parted, her eyes hooded and sultry. He stared down at her for another moment before he cupped her neck and pulled her to him.
The kiss was slow and testing, without the spontaneity and adrenaline of their first. And yet the impact rocked Jack to his core. He drew back, searching her face before he bent and kissed her again, this time wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her so that they were face to face, mouth to mouth, heartbeat to heartbeat. She weighed nothing. So slight she could have easily slipped from his arms and so he tightened his embrace as he deepened the kiss.
Desire flared. Hot and quick. He wanted her then and there, on the deck, in the open, with the leaves whispering all around them and the songbirds looking down from the treetops. He wanted her writhing and ready as the swamp teemed with a primal awakening. But he held back because there was something else in that kiss, too. Deeper, darker, more complicated emotions.
Whether she sensed his hesitation or had her own reservations, he would never be certain, but she pulled away, staring into his eyes as she slid back to the deck. She lifted her fingers to her lips as if she could somehow capture their kiss.
“That was...unexpected.”
“Was it?”
She shivered. “Maybe not. Jack?”
“Yes?”
“You never answered my question.”
“I think I did. Eloquently, I would hope.”
She laughed softly as she turned to stare out over the lake, squinting as a shaft of sunlight bounced off the water. “This—whatever this is...” She made a gesture between them, connecting them. “It isn’t going to end well, is it?”
“Probably not.”
“But that’s not going to stop us.”
“No.”
She tracked an egret skimming the water before turning back to him with a nod. “Okay,” she said. “But just so you know, my eyes are wide open.”
Chapter Ten
Olive propped an elbow on her desk and cradled her chin in her palm. Worry and caffeine had given her a headache and she felt apathetic about the million and one things left to do on her agenda. A week ago, all she could think about was excelling in her new position and proving herself to a seemingly dubious school board, but her priorities had suddenly shifted.
It wasn’t just her attraction to Jack King that occupied her thoughts. In fact, she was trying her best not to think about those feelings or that kiss. There would be time enough later to overanalyze every nuance. Right now, however, Olive had more pressing problems. In the space of one short night, she’d been shot at by an unknown gunman and had recovered Anna Grayson’s long-lost necklace. A necklace Anna had been wearing on the night of her murder.
That Olive had apparently witnessed something didn’t bode well for her peace of mind or her physical safety. Jack had promised to do everything in his power to protect her, but could she trust him to have her best interests at heart? He also had an agenda. He had come back to Pine Lake to solve Anna’s murder and now that he knew Olive was a material witness,
how far would he go to try and recover her memories?
Ever since Jamie Butaud’s body had been found, Olive had worried that she might have seen something from the top of the lake bridge, that the identity of Jamie’s killer might be hidden somewhere in her subconscious, waiting for a trigger to release it. But she’d never considered the possibility that she had witnessed Anna Grayson’s murder. In fifteen years, not a single clue had surfaced until last night.
But Jack was right. How else could she have known where to look for that necklace? Why else would she have gone in search of it in her sleep?
What else might be locked in her subconscious?
On the surface, it seemed like too much of a coincidence that she could have been an unwitting witness to two brutal slayings, but her presence on the bridge on the night of Anna’s murder hadn’t been happenstance. After her family’s move to Pine Lake, Olive had gone to the bridge to wallow in her guilt and to grieve for her dad. The place had become a haven for her and eventually a habit. From everything she knew about her disorder, a sleepwalker often repeated everyday behavior. Going to the bathroom. Getting a drink of water. Climbing to the top of the old lake bridge.
Her fixation on the structure could explain her presence fifteen years ago, but what about on Monday night? What had brought back the falling dreams and her sleepwalking trip to that bridge?
At first, Olive had chalked up her restless slumber to the anxiety and uncertainty of a new job, but now she wondered if she had been picking up on subtle clues and vibes from the people around her. The people on Jack’s list. Mona and Nathan and Tommy Driscoll.
After all, her first close call had come before Jamie’s death, before Jack’s arrival in Pine Lake. A dark sedan had come out of nowhere last Friday night to send Olive scrambling for the curb. She’d been certain that one or more malicious students had wanted to intimidate her, but in light of recent events, the intent was undoubtedly darker.
Nathan had suggested that Marc Waller was targeting Olive as a means to get to him, but had Marc really been that resentful of Nathan’s relationship with Jamie or was there another reason for the bad blood between them? It didn’t make sense to Olive and yet she could think of no other reason why she had ended up in Marc Waller’s crosshairs. She barely knew him and had had little contact with Jamie since the troubled girl had dropped out of high school.
It pained Olive to think that the power to bring a killer to justice had been within her grasp all along if only she could remember. She could have ended Jack’s misery years ago and given closure to Anna’s family. The whole town could have healed. And Jamie Butaud might still be alive.
Pointless to blame herself, of course, but Jack was right about that, too. Olive was a master at taking on irrational guilt. She wasn’t culpable for what had happened to Anna Grayson or Jamie Butaud any more than she was responsible for her dad’s accident. But that hadn’t stopped her from agonizing over what might have been. Olive had begged her dad to drive home that night even though she knew the roads were treacherous. She’d been selfish and thoughtless and petulant, but she had also been a kid. She’d eventually forgiven herself, but every now and then, the what-ifs caught up with her. Like now.
She swiveled her chair around to stare out the window, using the slow drift of cumulous clouds against the vivid blue sky to lull her into a meditative state. It was hot and steamy outside, but Olive sat shivering in her air-conditioned office. Maybe if she could conjure up one memory, the rest would fall like dominos. But was that even a good idea? Anna’s killer had gone free all these years and if Olive was the only one who could identify him—
She whirled as a noise outside her office startled her. The school was old and full of strange sounds. She told herself to relax. She was hardly alone. In these final weeks, teachers were in and out of the building as they prepared their classrooms and curriculum. The custodial workers and support staff were also hard at work. There was nothing at all to be concerned about. Except...
The sound had seemed furtive somehow. Clandestine footsteps retreating through the reception area.
Olive rose silently and crossed her office to peer through the glass panel. No one was in the outer office. The administrative assistant had gone out for an early lunch and then a doctor’s appointment. She wouldn’t be back until midafternoon, but others were surely about. All Olive had to do was step into the hallway and she would undoubtedly find someone working in one of the other offices.
She crossed the reception area and once again paused to stare through the window. Then she opened the door and slipped into the corridor glancing both ways in apprehension. Nothing was amiss. No one stirred. And yet Olive had the discomfiting feeling that something was wrong.
Hugging the wall, she made her way down the hallway, checking for signs of life. The empty classrooms seemed to mock her and more than once, she paused to glance over her shoulder. Olive had spent most of her life in academic settings of one level or another. She found comfort in the musty mingle of textbooks, chalkboards and lockers. But there had always been something spooky about a deserted school building. Lingering emotions seemed to echo through the hallways and down the stairwells.
She’d dressed for comfort that morning in slim black pants and a blue knit top. The soft soles of her ballet flats hushed her footfalls on the tile floor as she approached the stairs and glanced over the railing. She took a deep breath and called out in what she hoped was a nonchalant voice. “Hello? Anyone down there?”
The question bounced off the walls and came right back to her. She waited for a response, hoping to hear a good-natured rejoinder from one of the teachers. Instead she was greeted by a weighty silence.
“Hello?” she called down again. The word ricocheted back to her. Hello. Hello. Hello.
She turned and retraced her footsteps down the hallway, pausing to peek inside the teachers’ lounge. Empty. As were all the nearby classrooms. This was very unusual. Almost as if it had been planned. Olive didn’t want to give in to the crazy notion of a conspiracy, but where was everyone?
Mona Sutton’s office was located across the corridor and up a short flight of stairs. Olive had never thought about it before, but the elevation of the guidance counselor’s office had the effect of isolating Mona from the student body. Olive had an image of the cool blonde hovering on her private landing, observing the students from afar, taking in things that no one else would notice. I saw the way you looked at him when you passed in the hallway. And all those shy glances from your locker.
The door was closed and Olive couldn’t see a light or any movement behind the frosted glass panel. She started to retreat to her own office when she heard a metallic clank followed by a muted oath.
Nothing to worry about. Mona was undoubtedly busy with her own preparations for the coming school year. Perhaps she was going through her file cabinets, which would explain the noise. It did not explain the voices, however, one deep and angry and unmistakably male.
Another teacher, perhaps. Or someone from the cleaning staff.
Olive tried to remain calm, reminding herself sternly that there was likely an innocent explanation for the muffled commotion and yet everything inside her stilled as her instincts screamed another warning. She wavered indecisively. She could climb the stairs and barge through the door to confront whoever was inside. Or she could go in search of a teacher or custodian to accompany her. She could even call the police. The school was located well within the city limits so she wouldn’t have to deal with Tommy Driscoll. But if Mona was inside the office and Olive had panicked for no reason, word would get out about her irrational behavior. Her credibility—never mind her authority—would be undermined. If she overreacted at the slightest noise, how would she handle a real crisis?
To be fair, she had every right to be cautious. Considering the events of the previous evening, she would be crazy not to be careful.
Even a week ago, Olive wouldn’t have hesitated to bound up the stairs and knock on the door or even to call out to Mona. But Jack’s suspicions had rubbed off on her and she found herself conjuring an unwanted image. Mona’s fingers sliding around Anna Grayson’s neck, squeezing and squeezing until—
Olive’s gaze remained fixed on the frosted glance panel as she moved up the steps. A shadow hovered on the other side of the door. Not her imagination. She put a hand on the latch, still unsure what to do when the door was yanked back and she found herself face to face with Mona Sutton. It was the first time Olive had seen Mona since Jack had sown those seeds of doubt and now Olive found herself jumping at the sudden confrontation, her hand flying to her heart in alarm.
The guidance counselor looked uncharacteristically disheveled with tendrils frizzing from her normally sleek bun and her signature ruby lipstick worn thin. She recovered so quickly Olive almost wondered if she had imagined the high color in the woman’s cheeks and the feverish gleam in her eyes.
“Olive? What on earth...?”
“You startled me,” she said on a breath. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“Wasn’t expecting to see me? This is my office last time I checked.” In one fluid motion, Mona smoothed back her hair as she planted herself in front of the door, blocking Olive’s view inside the office. Again, those insidious seeds took root and Olive found herself trying to catch a glimpse over Mona’s shoulder.
“I didn’t think you were in today,” Olive said lamely. “I heard a noise—voices, actually—and I half convinced myself that someone had broken into your office. I couldn’t see a light and so I thought...” She gave an awkward laugh. “I know that sounds crazy.”