by Debra Webb
Did anyone get it all right? Of course not. No life was flawless. There were ups and downs and turnarounds in every life.
It was what you did with those deviations and bumps in the road that mattered.
Sasha climbed out of the rental car and walked straight up to him. “I’m not sure I can handle the truth anymore.”
He pulled her into his arms and hugged her. Sasha closed her eyes and lost herself in the scent and feel of the man. He ushered her inside and closed the world out.
“You need a drink.” He guided her to the sofa and left her there.
Her entire being felt bereft at the loss of contact with his. He was wrong. She didn’t need a drink. She needed his body wrapped around hers so thoroughly that it was impossible to tell where one of them began and the other one ended. She wanted to lose herself in him in that way. She didn’t want to think. She only wanted to feel.
He thrust a small glass of amber liquid in front of her. “Drink it. You’ll feel better.”
She didn’t believe him but she drank it anyway. Scotch. She shuddered with the burn of it sliding down her throat. “Thank you.”
Branch sat down in the chair across the coffee table from her and knocked back his own shot of Scotch. He placed his glass on the table and then settled his hat next to it. He ran his fingers through his hair and set his attention fully on her. “Tell me what happened.”
“The reason I don’t remember my mother’s best friend is because they never saw each other outside the occasional lunch. Leandra Brennan—Lenny—and my mother grew up together. They went to college together, got married the same summer. They were best friends—like sisters. Until something happened between my father and her. According to Arlene—”
“You talked to her today?”
Sasha nodded. “She said my grandmother never wanted me to know any of this, so they kept my mother’s secret. There was a big barbecue when my mother was pregnant with me. Lenny and her husband were fighting and everyone was drinking except my mother. Anyway, at some point that evening my mother caught Lenny and my dad kissing. Arlene said Mother would never elaborate if there was something more going on than just two drunk people doing something stupid. But she and Lenny stopped being friends for a long while. Apparently they had only recently started having the occasional lunch together right before my parents died.”
Branch shook his head. “It’s easy to forget that our parents are mere humans, too, and they’ve made mistakes.”
Sasha stared at the empty glass in her hands. “I was a child when they died. My every memory is of these perfect people who were above mere human mistakes. I don’t even remember ever being scolded. All the memories other than the night they were killed are sweet and cherished and perfect.”
“Just because you discovered a painful truth doesn’t mean all the happy truths are no longer real or relevant.”
She placed her glass on the table and wrung her hands. “I found Dr. Farr. He refuses, of course, to change his opinion of my story. He, apparently, was aware of my father’s infidelity, which makes me wonder if it was such common knowledge why I hadn’t heard of it before.”
“Maybe it came out in the investigation but wasn’t necessarily common knowledge.”
“Maybe.”
“Or,” Branch offered, “maybe your grandmother suggested that Luther look into Alexandra’s former best friend because of what had happened.”
Sasha nodded. “You’re probably right. G’ma would likely have considered the possibility. I know I certainly would have.” She looked to Branch. “Did you talk to Brennan today?”
“I did.” Branch stared at the floor a moment. “She came up with an even crazier story. In fact, she broke down into tears and blubbered her way through most of it. She explained how she and your father had been having an affair and your mother found out and intended to divorce him and take everything. She thinks your father intended to have her killed and things went terribly wrong.”
“Are you serious? She said those things?”
He met Sasha’s gaze. “She did. She claims she was trying to put her marriage back together but that he wouldn’t leave her alone. She and your mother were having secret lunches to discuss how to handle the situation.”
Sasha shook her head. “I don’t believe it. I would remember that kind of tension.”
“At one point you did say they were arguing more during those final weeks.”
She had said that. “It was about work. I remember distinctly that he thought she was working too much and she complained that he needed to find a new job.”
This—all of this—grew more confusing by the moment.
“Wait.” She had almost forgotten to tell him about Alfred Nelson. “I spoke to Mr. Nelson, the man who worked in the office with my mother. He was knocking on the door of my grandmother’s house when I drove past, so I stopped and talked to him. He urged me to stop digging around in the past. He said it would only hurt me the way it did my mother. He alluded to how Brennan betrayed my mother.”
“At least it sounds like everyone has gotten their story straight.”
He was right. Farr, Brennan and Nelson were all suddenly spouting basically the same story. “Seems rather convenient.”
Branch nodded. “It does. I think maybe we need to take today’s influx of information with a grain of salt.”
“Nelson also said something like there are some evils too big to stop. Do you think he was referring to Jarvis Packard?”
“Packard would certainly fit the description.”
Sasha shot to her feet. She couldn’t sit still any longer. “This is just too much. I don’t know why my grandmother didn’t simply explain the situation to me once I was an adult. I shouldn’t have to be doing this.” She crossed the room and stared out the window.
Branch moved up behind her. Her body reacted instantly. How she would love to turn around and fall into his arms.
“You don’t have to do this, Sasha. Knowing the truth—whatever it might be—won’t bring your parents back. It won’t make you feel any better about the fact that your grandmother didn’t want to talk about it. It won’t change anything unless it helps to put a killer behind bars.”
“And clears my father’s name,” she reminded him.
“If you want to clear your father’s name and find justice for your parents, then you have to do this. Otherwise, you don’t have to go down this path. No one will fault you if you decide you’ve had enough.”
He made it seem like such an easy decision.
“It’s not that simple,” she argued.
“It’s never that simple,” he agreed.
She turned around, her body so close to his she could feel the heat of his skin beneath his clothes. “Why are you helping me?”
It wasn’t what she’d intended to ask when she opened her mouth but it was what came out.
He frowned down at her. “Why wouldn’t I help you?”
“That’s not an answer.”
He searched her eyes as if the motive for her demand might show itself, but she couldn’t let him see that what she wanted was to push him away. To stop this thing before it was completely out of control. While they could still look back and call what they’d shared the past few days nice, a friend helping a friend.
“I told you I’ve always wanted a do-over. I’ve wished more times than I can count for an opportunity to spend time with you again.”
Sasha thought of all the lies she had discovered...all the confusing things that didn’t add up. Was that the legacy she wanted to leave her daughter? A box of untruths and a trail of uncertainties.
She grabbed Branch and pulled his face down to hers. She kissed him with all the hunger and desire strumming through her. A minute from now he would never look at her the same. A minute from now he would know the one truth that mattered more than all the others.
/> His arms went around her and he pulled her against him, deepened the kiss, taking control, and she wept with the knowledge that this would be the only time.
When she could bear the sweet tenderness no longer, she pushed him away. When he released her, his eyes glazed with need, she crossed the room, found her bag and pulled out her cell phone.
“What’s going on, Sasha?” He watched her, worry in his eyes now. He understood something was very, very wrong.
Something besides her murdered parents and their secrets. Besides her dead grandmother and the truths she chose to take with her to her grave. Besides the urgent need still roaring through her body.
“I’ve never wanted a do-over of that night, Branch.”
He stared at her, confusion clouding his face. “I don’t understand.”
“That night was amazing.” She smiled, swiped at an errant tear that escaped her iron hold. “It was the night I had waited for since I was thirteen years old and first fell madly in love with you.”
He smiled, his own eyes suspiciously bright. “I remember thinking that if you would have me I would be the happiest guy in the world, but I always thought you had other plans.”
His confession hurt more than she wanted to admit. How could they not have known? Had they been too busy running away from their lives here that they couldn’t see each other clearly?
“I did and that was my mistake. I couldn’t stop running toward the future long enough to see what was right here in my present. I had all these big plans. I was going to make my mark, make a name for myself. I was never again going to be the orphaned girl who lost her whole world. I was going to be someone who mattered.”
“First—” he took a step in her direction “—you were always someone who mattered. To your grandmother. To my family. To me.”
More of those damned tears flowed down her cheeks. “But I couldn’t see that. I allowed the need to prove myself to rule my life and I made a terrible, terrible mistake. One I’m certain you won’t be able to forgive me for.”
He reached up and tugged a wisp of hair from her damp cheek. “I’m fairly certain you have nothing to worry about on that score. Whatever you did or didn’t do when you left, you don’t owe me an explanation. I’m here for you now and I’ll be here for you tomorrow. I want to be a part of your life—a part of your daughter’s life.”
Sasha stared at him, her entire being aching. Her fingers tightened around the phone full of pictures of her precious daughter. “She’s your daughter, too.”
The kaleidoscope of evolving emotions on his face took her breath. He went from shock to amazement and then to anger.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, the one time we were together Brianne was conceived. I didn’t know until weeks later and...”
And what?
She made the decision not to tell him. She chose to go on with her life and to not look back.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
His voice was hollow. That, too, would change in a moment. “My grandmother said you had accepted a big promotion in Chicago. I had that job offer in New York. The timing was just wrong.”
“Timing?”
Now the fire was in his tone. He was angry. She didn’t blame him. She deserved whatever he decided to throw her way.
“I should have told you.” She took a breath. “I promised myself I would a thousand times, but it never felt like the right time, so I never did.”
The entire scene had taken on a dreamlike quality. Sasha felt uncertain of herself and at the same time completely at peace with the decision she had made.
She had told him. At long last. Regardless of what happened next, she had done the right thing.
He looked away, shook his head. “I need some air and to think.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
He walked out of the room. Moments later she heard the back door close.
She tapped her contacts list and put through a call to Rey. “I need to talk to you.”
Five minutes later Sasha had left a note for Branch, telling him that she would spend the night with Rey, and then she left to give him the space he needed to come to terms with her announcement. Her soul ached as if she were driving away from that night all those years ago all over again.
She and Branch had made love and then they’d walked away from each other without ever looking back.
They had both made a mistake, but hers was the far more egregious one.
* * *
REY MET HER at the Lenoir house.
As much as Sasha would love to lose herself to a bottle of wine, a buzz would not help. She needed to keep her mind busy—to focus on something until she could bear to properly consider what she had done.
Branch knew he had a daughter now.
Now she had to tell Brianne. Maybe it would be better to bring her here and to do the introductions in person.
“What’s the plan?” Rey glanced around the dusty old house. “I’ve got pizza and wine ordered. We have about half an hour before it arrives.”
“Pizza and wine?” Since when did the two pizza places in Winchester deliver wine?
“Brian is bringing us dinner. Don’t worry—he’s not staying. He and his love have plans. He’s just dropping off the food and a few other things we might need.”
Brian Peterson worked with Rey at the newspaper. He and Rey had been best friends in school and later it had been the three of them. As close as Sasha and Rey always were, there had been a special bond between Rey and Brian.
“I’m afraid to ask what kinds of things.”
Rey shrugged. “Nightshirts, sleeping bags, toothbrushes. Just a few necessities.”
Sasha was really grateful for good friends like Rey and Brian.
She instantly chastised herself for leaving Branch out. He was a good friend, too. She hoped they would be able to be friends again.
“So.” Rey turned to her. “What’s the plan?”
Sasha started to say that she had no plan, but then she realized she had a very important plan. “I want to take this place apart.”
Rey made a face. “Define take apart.”
“I want to look inside and under everything. If it’s here, I want to find it.”
Another of those strange expressions twisted Rey’s face. “It?”
Sasha nodded. “I have no idea what it is, but we’re going to look until we find it—unless you have objections.”
Rey shook her head. “None. Except maybe I’ll text Brian and add gloves to the needs list.”
“Good idea.” Sasha smiled. She didn’t have to see it to know it was sad; it felt sad. She felt sad. But this was the first step toward moving forward. She did not want to leave this painful black cloud hanging over her daughter’s life.
Her daughter deserved happiness.
Her daughter deserved to know her father.
Branch deserved to know his daughter.
And Sasha intended to have the truth—whatever it turned out to be—and justice for her parents.
Chapter Sixteen
Branch knocked on the door of his grandmother’s home and waited for her to answer. He usually called before showing up just to make sure she was home, but this time he couldn’t bring himself to make the call. He needed to see her in person. He needed to see her face when she answered his question.
Eighty-five-year-old Arlene Holloway opened the door. Branch reminded himself of her age and her station in his family. He reached for calm. Upsetting this woman was the last thing he wanted to do and in his current state he didn’t completely trust himself to make good decisions.
“Branch, is something wrong?”
He hadn’t called and he always did. “Yes, ma’am. I’m a little upset. May I come in?”
“Well, of course.” She drew the door open wid
e and shuffled back out of his way. “Is Sasha all right? Where is she?”
The sweet little old lady craned her neck to see through the darkness beyond the door.
“She’s with Rey Anderson.”
Arlene nodded. “Rey’s doing a fine job with the newspaper. Far better than her uncle Phillip ever did. He was too busy chasing the widows around town.”
Branch smiled in spite of the circumstances. His grandmother always knew how to put a smile on his face, even when she wasn’t trying. “I hear he went down to Florida for spring break.”
“Spring break?” she grumbled as she locked the door. “He looks like a spring break. The man needs to find a hobby that doesn’t involve chasing skirts.”
Branch knew better than to encourage her. “I have some questions I need to ask you, Gran.”
She stared at him from behind the thick lenses of her glasses. She blinked. “Do we need a stiff drink to make them go down easier?”
“Possibly.” No point pretending.
“Have a seat over there.” She gestured toward the living room. “I’ll round up Walker’s bourbon.”
His grandfather had been dead for ten years and his grandmother still called the stash of bourbon she kept his. Branch knew for a fact she’d purchased a new fifth of bourbon at least twice in those ten years. Most of the time she had Branch’s father pick it up. It wouldn’t be proper for her to be seen in the liquor store, much less buying something. She shuffled over to the sofa, two sipping glasses and the fifth of bourbon clasped in her gnarled hands. She poured, passed a glass to him and lifted the other to her lips.
When they’d downed a swallow, she looked him square in the eye and asked, “What happened?”
“Did you know Sasha’s daughter was my child?”
Since Sasha left, she had sent him a dozen photos of Brianne via text, some going back to when the girl was a baby in diapers. The younger photos were like looking at candid shots of himself as a kid.
Every time he looked at the photos he felt a punch to his gut. How the hell had this happened? Why would Sasha have kept a secret like this from him? For a dozen years no less.
