Abandon the Dark

by Marta Perry

“I’m sorry.” There didn’t seem anything else to say.

  “My fault. I should have figured out we weren’t suited before we got engaged, not afterward.”

  He was trying to treat it lightly, but she could see past the mask. The incident had hurt him, probably mainly because he’d been forced to hurt someone else.

  “The alternative would have been worse, don’t you think?” What if she’d never realized what Phillip was really like? Would she have gone on loving him?

  “I hope so. I’d hate to think I acted like a jerk for no good reason.” He glanced at the scrapbook. “By all accounts, Aaron and Laura were happy together for a few months. Does that make up for all the grief that came after?”

  “I don’t know.” Her fairy-tale version of their love had certainly taken a beating since she’d come back to Deer Run.

  The cat skittered back through the door from the living room, batting a crumpled ball of paper in front of him. It was one of the few times Lainey had seen him play, and she stared at him with an amused smile until she realized what the paper was. The anonymous letter—she made a dive for it, but the cat had batted it to Jake’s feet, and he picked it up, smoothing it out with his hand.

  “What—” He stopped, seeming to absorb the contents of the letter.

  Lainey couldn’t move, and her mouth went dry. How was she going to explain this? Anything she said would lead to the whole sordid story tumbling out, and...

  “Here’s the proof someone’s trying to scare you out of town.” The anger in Jake’s eyes wasn’t aimed at her. “Why didn’t you tell me? If you’re getting threatening notes, Burkhalter will have to pay attention. Have you received many of these?”

  She shook her head numbly. Jake didn’t seem to imagine that there might be something else in her life that would cause people to send her abusive letters. He thought it was all part of what had been going on since she’d come to Deer Run.

  And maybe he was right. Maybe she’d been jumping to conclusions, thinking that someone here knew about St. Louis.

  “I don’t think it would make any difference to what Chief Burkhalter thinks.” And the last thing she wanted was someone like him looking into her life.

  “You may be right.” He was frowning at the sheet of paper. Cat, deprived of his toy, wove circles around Jake’s ankles. “Granted that Zeb would be glad to see the last of you, this doesn’t seem like something he would do. As for Thomas—”

  “I can’t see Thomas writing an anonymous letter.”

  His gaze questioned her. “He did plant the witch signs.”

  “I know. But this...it just seems too sophisticated an idea for him.”

  “If we eliminate Zeb and Thomas, we’re back to my initial idea. Someone fears you know something about Aaron’s death.”

  “But I don’t!” She wanted to shout her protest.

  Her vehemence clearly startled him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Lainey shook her head, her throat tight. “It’s just so frustrating.” Her voice sounded strained even to herself.

  Carefully, as if afraid she was breakable, Jake put his arms around her and drew her close. Half-ashamed of her weakness, she shut her eyes, focusing on the warmth of his embrace and the steady beating of his heart against her cheek.

  His lips moved against her hair. “I wish I could see the way out of this mess. You don’t deserve any of this.”

  But she did. And letting herself lean on Jake was simply compounding her wrongs. She eased herself out of the protective circle of his arms.

  “I’m all right.” She tried to smile. “A momentary weakness, that’s all.”

  He studied her face. “I think I should stay tonight.”

  Lainey shook her head. She was afraid of what would happen if he stayed. She couldn’t let this go any further without telling him the truth. And if she did tell him, he’d walk away.

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll lock all the doors, keep the cat inside, and sleep with my cell phone in my hand. Nothing’s going to happen.”

  She hoped.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  THE RAIN HAD been streaking the windows all afternoon, but inside the rehab facility everything was bright and cheerful. Obviously the designers had felt that the surroundings had an effect on the patients’ recovery. Whether that was true or not Lainey didn’t know, but she found it lifted her spirits despite all the worrying she’d been doing.

  How could she help it? She’d effectively lied to Jake by not telling him the whole story about the abusive letters she’d received. He’d made it clear that he valued the truth at all costs. She hadn’t told it. But if she did, he’d never look at her the same anyway.

  She forced her attention back to the present and smiled at her aunt. The flowered curtains and colored posters were a far cry from Aunt Rebecca’s usual decor, but that didn’t seem to be bothering her. She leaned back onto her pillows after an excursion with the walker that Lainey suspected had tired her. It certainly had Lainey. She kept holding her breath at each halting step, ready to reach out a supporting arm but not wanting to interfere.

  “Great work, Mrs. Stoltzfus.” The therapist was young, cheerful and apparently untiring. She patted Aunt Rebecca’s hand. “We’ll have you doing laps around the building before long.”

  “Go home?” Aunt Rebecca formed the question with deliberate concentration.

  “It won’t be too long until you’re ready,” the therapist said. “Rest up, now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She flashed a smile at Lainey and made a quick escape before Aunt Rebecca could press the issue of going home.

  Lainey had to smile at her great-aunt’s expression. “You remember how you used to tell me that I had to learn patience when I pestered you about something? Well, I think maybe it’s your turn to practice that.”

  Aunt Rebecca’s smile was a little lopsided, but it was a smile, nonetheless, and it warmed Lainey’s heart.

  She reached for the jacket she’d hung over the bottom of the bed. “I should be going. Just hold on to the thought that we’ll be taking you home soon.”

  Aunt Rebecca’s hand closed over hers. “D-don’t go.”

  Lainey couldn’t help taking a quick glance at the clock. She’d stayed later than usual, but after all, there was no one waiting for her but the cat. She sat on the edge of the bed. “Of course I’ll stay if you want.”

  Aunt Rebecca shook her head, her mouth working in an attempt to form the words she wanted. “No. Go home now. Supper.” She frowned. “J-just don’t go away again.”

  Understanding was like a blow to the heart. Aunt Rebecca wasn’t talking about staying at the rehab facility today. She was talking about Lainey staying in Deer Run.

  I never wanted to leave. That was what she wanted to say, but it would be foolish and hurtful. Aunt Rebecca hadn’t had the power to keep her, no matter how much Lainey wanted to stay. And she was a grown woman now, not a ten-year-old.

  “I’ll stay as long as you need me,” she said, leaning over the bed. “I promise.”

  Her great-aunt patted Lainey’s cheek. “Gut.” She leaned back, looking tired but satisfied.

  Feeling ridiculously like bursting into tears, Lainey kissed her cheek and hurried out into the hallway.

  The aroma of chicken cooking wafted through the air, and from the dining room came the clink of plates as someone got the tables ready. Several patients were already moving in that direction, talking to each other as they went. There seemed to be an atmosphere of comradeship here that had been missing in the hospital, maybe because people here were all working on similar goals. Lainey skirted a pair of women using walkers with a smile and ducked out the front door, to be greeted with a chill, damp gust of air.

  Out here, everything was gray, it seemed. The pole lights made a feeble effort to disperse the gloom—unsuccessfully, it seemed to Lainey. She zipped her jacket, wished she’d thought to pack a raincoat when she left St. Louis, and opened the umbrella.

  She’d parked a
t the farthest point, apparently, in the parking lot the rehab facility shared with the hospital, but the lot had been crowded when she’d arrived. Holding the umbrella slanted against the wind-driven rain, she trudged along wet pavement.

  Aunt Rebecca had taken her by surprise when she’d asked her to stay, and yet she couldn’t deny that the thought had drifted through her mind several times in the last weeks. Stay in the place that had always felt like the only home she’d known—what could be wrong with that? Except that she feared she couldn’t go back to being the kind of person who belonged here.

  A gust of wind nearly turned her umbrella inside out. She tilted it, trying to use it as a shield against the wind that seemed to come sideways, sweeping along the lot and sending sodden leaves into her path.

  Lainey groped in her bag with one hand for her keys. Nearly there now, and—

  Someone darted from between two parked cars, almost colliding with her. Lainey stepped back a step, catching her breath. “What are you—” The furious question broke off when she saw who it was. “Laura.”

  Laura Hammond stood inches from her, rain soaking through a thin sweater and plastering her hair against her skull. If she usually looked like a carefully tended doll, now she more closely resembled one left out in a muddy yard. Her eyes were wide, staring unblinkingly at Lainey.

  A jolt of apprehension went through her. If Jake were right...

  Even if he was, she had no cause to be afraid. She was younger and stronger than Laura.

  “I’ve been waiting for you forever.” Laura made it sound as if they’d had an appointment here. “Where are the other two? Why aren’t they with you?”

  Maybe being younger and stronger had nothing to do with it. Anyone would be afraid when confronted by the irrational.

  “You mean Rachel and Meredith?” Lainey tried to keep her tone calm as she mentally measured the distance to her car.

  “They should be here. You’re always together.”

  “Not always.” Lainey tried to ease a step back.

  Laura grabbed her wrist and the umbrella blew free, slapping against a car hood before falling, twisted, to the pavement.

  “We have to end this. You understand, don’t you?” Laura thrust her face toward Lainey’s.

  Lainey yanked at her wrist without success. Laura was stronger than she looked. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.” Lainey groped for something the woman might respond to. “You’re soaking wet. Let me help you to your car. Then we can talk about anything you want.”

  “I don’t have a car. I walked. I knew you’d be here.”

  Laura’s single-mindedness was frightening. Her fingers tightened on Lainey’s wrist, digging into the skin.

  “Let me call someone for you, then.” Lainey fished in her bag with her free hand and came out with her cell phone. “Do you want me to call your friend Jeannette?”

  “No!” Laura swatted at the phone, and it flew from Lainey’s hand to skitter across the wet pavement.

  Lainey’s fear ratcheted upward. She darted a quick look around. No one in sight—they were alone in a forest of parked cars, isolated by the gloom and the pelting rain.

  If she offered to drive Laura home...but her mind shrank from the thought of being alone in a moving car with her.

  “We’ll talk all you want,” she said, willing her voice to sound calm. “Let’s just get in out of the rain.”

  Laura shook her head. “We have to talk about that night. You know what happened.”

  Fear scraped along her nerves. This was exactly what Jake had been worried about—that someone would assume she knew something she didn’t.

  “No. No, I don’t.” This had gone on long enough. No one was coming along to interrupt them. She’d have to wrench herself free and make a run for the car. If she could get in and lock the doors—

  “You have to know.” Laura’s face contorted with emotion. Fear? Anger? “You have to know. You were there.” Laura grabbed her, shaking her.

  Lainey brought her fists up as hard as she could, knocking Laura’s hands away. She didn’t want to hurt an obviously sick woman, but she might not have a choice.

  She pivoted, meaning to run for the car, but a vehicle shrieked to a stop beside them. In an instant Jeannette was out, grasping Laura’s arms.

  “Laura! Stop that this instant. What would the doctor say about this behavior? Do you want him to send you back to the hospital?”

  Apparently those were the magic words. Laura subsided, sobbing now, and Lainey could breathe again.

  “Help me with her,” Jeannette murmured. Together, wordlessly, they bundled Laura into the back of Jeannette’s car.

  Jeannette closed the door and glanced at Lainey. “Sorry.”

  “Not your fault.” Though clearly Laura needed more supervision than she was getting. “How did you find her?”

  “Someone saw her walking up the hill. I thought she might have decided to try and see your aunt.”

  That sounded unlikely, but Lainey was too relieved to have the woman off her hands to worry about it.

  “Well, I’d better get her home.” Jeannette looked for a moment as if she’d say something else, but what was there to say? It had been a messy experience, and talking about it wouldn’t help.

  Lainey nodded, bending to rescue her cell phone. It seemed to have survived, which was more than she could say for the umbrella. Or her nerves. She was shaking, though that might be partly attributed to the fact that she was soaked.

  Jeannette got into the driver’s seat without another glance at Lainey. As she pulled away, Laura’s face was pressed against the glass, her eyes staring at Lainey.

  Shivering, Lainey ran to her car.

  * * *

  LAINEY FINALLY FELT warm after spending enough time in the shower to use up all the hot water. She pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt, thankful that the gas-powered furnace came on at the touch of a button. Cousin Katie had laughed at her when she’d expressed her fear of the monster lurking in the cellar.

  Amish don’t connect with the power grid, because that would make us depend on the outside world too much, and the Bible says we should live separate. We still have heat and light and food to eat. What more does anyone need?

  Most people would insist they needed much more. Lainey went downstairs, to be greeted by Cat, who’d been curled up in Lainey’s favorite rocker. Need was an elastic term.

  She sat down, letting the cat make himself comfortable on her lap, and stared out the window at the lights in Rachel’s house next door. Should she tell Rachel and Meredith about that troubling encounter with Laura Hammond? It would be a relief to talk about it with someone, but that was just shifting the burden of worry to them.

  No, it was better to wait. The next time she spoke with them she could bring it up casually, without the fear of overreacting when talking about Laura’s irrational behavior.

  Unfortunately, one thing the woman had said couldn’t really be classed as delusional and dismissed accordingly. You have to know. You were there.

  That was what Jake feared, with his emphasis on her sleepwalking and his concerns about her nightmares. That she had been there. That she had seen what happened when Aaron died.

  She hadn’t. If she had, she’d remember. Lainey rubbed the back of her neck, where tension seemed to be building. Did a person’s mind record the things that happened when she was sleepwalking? She had no idea. She’d never looked into the mechanics of the thing, simply relieved that it had stopped.

  Jake had implied that whether she remembered or not, she could be in danger from someone who feared she might. But surely that was only an issue if his suspicions were true, and it was Laura, not Victor, who’d killed Aaron Mast.

  The cat arched under her hand, demanding to be stroked. Smoothing her hand down the cat’s glossy back, she frowned, reminded of the conversation with Thomas. It seemed to have taken place ages ago, not yesterday.

  “Black cats,” she said aloud, and Cat lif
ted his head in response. “No wonder Thomas thinks I’m a witch.”

  Still, she couldn’t quite buy the idea that Thomas had come up with that on his own, no matter how many black cats were involved. Something must have prompted his belief—just the coincidence of her coming to town around Halloween, when English teens might have been talking about the occult? Her appearance? She smoothed back unruly hair, still damp from her shower. Granted she didn’t look much like the Amish women Thomas was used to, but surely that wouldn’t be enough to put the idea in his head.

  She couldn’t escape the notion that it had been done deliberately, by someone Thomas would believe. Zeb was the obvious choice for the role. Even if Jake’s suspicions were correct and Laura had been involved in Aaron’s death, that could have nothing to do with Thomas setting witch traps.

  The wind sent a spray of rain whipping against the windows. The cat lifted his head, staring fixedly at the window, or maybe at the blackness beyond.

  “It’s nothing,” she said, soothing him. “Just be glad you’ve found a comfortable berth and aren’t outside.”

  He rose, arching in a stretch and kneading his paws against her thighs. Then he leaped to the floor and paced toward the window, tail high.

  “You’re making me nervous,” she complained. If she had a television, she’d turn it on for the company. Maybe that was why the Amish didn’t have them. It was too tempting to let the outside world into your living room at the slightest excuse.

  Wind howled around the house, and she rose and went to the front window to peer out. Rain whipped down the street, making the pavement gleam in the reflected glow of the streetlights. Across the street, the windows of Jeannette’s bed-and-breakfast emitted a gentle glow. Would Jeannette have taken Laura there or back to her own house? Surely she shouldn’t be left alone.

  Something moved on the front porch, sending her pulse into overdrive. But it was only the rocking chair, swinging back and forth as the wind hit it. Beyond the porch, the bushes moved like so many black figures, waving their branches in a wild dance.

  Lainey pulled the shade down, shutting out the sight. Enough. Her imagination ran riot too easily without the prompting of such a wild night.