The Summoning: A gripping psychological thriller (Secrets of Redemption Book 4)

by Michele PW (Pariza Wacek)

  “I just bought it,” I said quickly.

  “Did you get it checked out by a mechanic first?”

  Did people do that? “Ah ... no.”

  He frowned and shifted his stance. “Well, in the future, I advise you to. Having a trusted mechanic take a look at a car before you buy it is a smart move. Based on what I’m seeing, I hope you didn’t pay too much for it.”

  “I bought it from an old friend,” I said. “I know she didn’t drive it a lot, mostly to the store and back. So, what does all this mean?”

  Jonathan blew the air out of his cheeks. “Unfortunately, it means it’s going to take a little longer to repair it.”

  Uh oh. My dream flashed before my eyes. You must leave now.

  I pushed it aside. I was being paranoid. I was perfectly safe. My biggest problem was just making sure my money lasted. “How much longer?”

  He frowned again. “A week? It’s hard to say until we actually get in there.”

  A week. Oh boy. That was going to eat into my hotel and food budget. Thank God I had asked Annabelle to send more than I needed. And maybe there were other ways I could save, like actually eating the free breakfast in the morning instead of mauling it and skipping lunch.

  Then I remembered all the stories Claire and the others told me about Redemption choosing who stays and who goes, and I gave Jonathan a hard look. “Are you sure this is all necessary?”

  His eyes widened. “You think I’m trying to screw you?” His voice sounded upset, maybe even a little angry.

  My cheeks colored. “No, but after all that talk last night about the town summoning me, this feels just a little ... convenient.”

  His face relaxed as the corners of his mouth twitched. “I hate to disappoint you, but Redemption actually had nothing to do with this. Any halfway-decent mechanic would have seen these issues before you ever left New York. No, this was ... luck.”

  “Luck?” My voice was heavy with disbelief.

  “Well, luck that it happened in a town like Redemption in the middle of the day. Look, your car was going to break down at some point on your trip, and I’m sure you can imagine much worse places to be stuck in with car trouble. So, yeah. I would say you were lucky.”

  Well, when he put it like that, the situation didn’t seem so bad after all. My dream was probably just a byproduct of all the stress I had been under. Maybe it was time to focus on the positive and quit dwelling on the negative.

  It’s not like Alan could find me, I reminded myself. I had been careful. I had paid with cash. I was safe.

  Jonathan glanced down at the counter, his frown returning. “But I do have more bad news.”

  Oh no. I had just started to relax. Now, my stomach twisted itself into a knot, and I could taste bile at the back of my throat. “What?”

  “The additional repairs are going to cost more.”

  I briefly closed my eyes. “How much more?”

  He named a figure, explaining it was still an estimate until the work was complete, and I tried to keep myself from hyperventilating.

  At this point, I would barely have the money to cover all the expenses that were piling up, never mind enough to leave. I no longer had a choice; I had to find a way to safely access my trust fund before leaving Redemption.

  Jonathan was watching me closely. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I just ...” I tried to force a smile, but it felt fake. My facial muscles felt taunt and unnatural. “It’s more than I had budgeted.”

  “If you need to, we can work something out,” he said. “Just let me know.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll figure something out.”

  We stared at each other, the moment stretching out longer than what normal conversation dictated. “Well, I’ll let you get back to work,” I said, rubbing my suddenly sweaty hands on my jeans as I started to back away. “Thanks again.”

  “Charlie, hold on.”

  I paused, one hand on the door.

  His expression was serious as he looked directly into my eyes. “I meant what I said last night. I’m a good listener. If you need to talk.”

  “I appreciate that, but I’ll be fine.” I started to push the door open.

  “You know, it’s okay to ask for help. You don’t have to do everything alone.”

  I stopped, letting the door fall closed. “Why are you so interested? You don’t even know me.”

  He bit his lip, looking unsure. Something about his expression made my heart stutter. “You remind me of someone,” he said finally.

  Despite myself, I took a step closer. “I do? Who?”

  “My mother.”

  My eyes widened. I hadn’t expected that answer at all. Had I misread the signs? Maybe he wasn’t attracted to me after all.

  “She had the same look in her eyes as you do,” he continued.

  “What look is that?”

  He paused again. “Haunted.”

  “I look haunted?”

  He nodded. “Until the day she disappeared.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  He waved it off. “It happened a long time ago. I was a child.” His eyes narrowed, and I could see in their depths pain, despair, and a deep knowing. “My stepfather beat her, you know,” he said, his voice almost conversational.

  I froze.

  He held my gaze as he slowly nodded. “She was terrified of him. He was a total bastard. Everyone else knew it as well, but no one knew how to help.”

  “So, she left him?”

  He shrugged. “That’s what everyone thinks. But she wouldn’t have left me. Not voluntarily.”

  My mouth was dry. A part of me wanted to ask him what he thought happened to his mother, but another part didn’t want to hear the answer.

  “Is your stepfather still here?”

  He snorted. “As far as I know. Still living in that broken-down filthy trailer. If you can call spending his days drunk off his ass ‘living.’”

  “I’m sorry,” I said again. It felt inadequate, but it was all I could think to say.

  “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” He gave me a wry smile. “So, when I say I understand, you know I understand.”

  I shifted uncomfortably. I had no idea how to respond. Was I that obvious? Did everyone know, or just him? Luckily, I was saved by the phone ringing. It startled us both, and before he could object, I was able to slip out the door.

  Clearly, I was going to have to work on my poker face.

  I kept walking, trying to shake off the anxiety and confusion I was drowning in. I had to pull myself together. Otherwise, I would make a mistake and Alan would find me.

  Walking helped. I started to feel calmer. Even better, Annabelle should have wired the money by that point, which also perked up my mood. As I headed toward Western Union, my stomach started grumbling, reminding me it was lunchtime. I decided to head over to Aunt May’s to treat myself to a meal after I picked up my cash.

  The good news was the money was waiting for me.

  The bad news was that Annabelle had sent less than I asked.

  “There should be more,” I told the girl behind the counter. She had spiky black hair, wore heavy black eye makeup, and was loudly smacking gum. The tiny, glassed-in room smelled sugary sweet.

  She sighed and rolled her eyes as she pulled out the paperwork and showed it to me. “No, this is what was sent.”

  “But this isn’t enough.” I couldn’t hide the note of desperation in my voice.

  The girl blew a bubble as she filed the paperwork away. “You’ll have to tell her to send more.”

  I wanted to scream, but I knew I wasn’t being logical. This girl could only give me what Annabelle sent. I shoved the envelope of cash into my purse and quickly walked out.

  I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate. How could Annabell
e do that to me? It wasn’t like she didn’t have access to what I had asked for.

  I needed to call her and find out what happened. And I needed to convince her to send the rest.

  I ducked into a drugstore and found a payphone booth in the back. I shut the accordion door firmly, angling my body so no one could see my face, picked up the phone, and dialed zero.

  “Please be home, please be home,” I whispered as the operator worked her magic to connect us.

  To my relief, Annabelle picked up and accepted the charges.

  “I wired the money. Did you get it?”

  I rubbed my free hand against my thigh, telling myself to remain calm and reasonable. If she thought I was lying to her about coming home right away, who knew what she would do. “I did, thank you. But I think you might have made a mistake. The amount wasn’t what I had asked for. Did you write it down wrong?”

  “I know what you asked for,” Annabelle said.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to breathe. “So, this wasn’t a mistake?”

  I heard her heels clicking across the granite floor. “I just don’t think you need that much cash.”

  “What? I told you, I have a huge car repair bill. It’s also turning out to be more than I thought. And I have to pay the hotel.”

  “Surely you can make up the difference with a credit card. You have one with you, right? Even a small town like Redemption, Wisconsin, should take credit cards.”

  I went still. “You know where I am?”

  “Of course I do. I just sent money to you. You don’t think I asked Western Union where the branch was?”

  I banged my head against the plexiglass, trying to keep myself from howling in despair. If Annabelle figured it out, would Alan, too? “Did you tell anyone? Did you tell Brad?”

  “No, I didn’t tell Brad. Why would I tell him?”

  “Did you tell anyone else?” I asked, my voice rising in panic.

  “No! I told you, I didn’t tell anyone. What’s that noise in the background?”

  I kept banging my head. “Promise me, Annabelle. Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

  “I won’t! I promise. Just as long as you come home as we agreed. Are you at a pay phone? Is someone knocking on the glass?”

  I stopped hitting my head and stared at the scratched and graffitied surface of the plexiglass trying not to despair. Someone had written “Tom and Tina” in red ink with a heart around it. Another message, written in black, said, “Denise is a slut.”

  I should have known Annabelle would do something like this. She must have sensed I wasn’t telling the full truth. That, or she just wasn’t taking any chances.

  “If I come home, Alan will kill me. Is that what you want?”

  “Charlotte!” Annabelle scolded. “Don’t be such a drama queen. Alan isn’t a killer.”

  “You saw the bruises.”

  “And he’s sorry. I told you that. He just wants to talk.”

  Tears of frustration gathered behind my eyelids. “I thought you said you wanted me to be happy.”

  “I do! Of course I want you to be happy. You’re my sister, and I love you.”

  “Then why are you trying to force me to go back to him?”

  “I’m not! Look, I just want you to talk to him. That’s all. We’re still going to have to see Alan even if you break up with him. So just hear him out. That’s all I’m asking. At least try and keep everything civil. If you don’t want to stay with him, then don’t. But you can end it amicably. Would that be so hard?”

  You can’t leave me. I won’t allow it.

  “He won’t let me leave,” I said.

  “Of course he will. He’s not a monster. He loves you and wants to talk. And, if after you do, you still want to end the engagement, he’ll be hurt, but I’m sure he’ll honor it.”

  “Annabelle, seriously?”

  “Well, he will be hurt,” Annabelle said, a little huffy. “But if it’s what you want, then that’s what will happen. Look, I know all of this is just a big misunderstanding. Come home, Charlotte. We’ll work it out.”

  I reached out a finger and started tracing the words graffitied in front of me. I wondered what Denise looked like. Was she pretty? Pretty enough for other girls to be jealous of her? Maybe she had just dared to stand up for herself, or had gotten out of a relationship that was bad for her. I wondered if she felt misunderstood and was angry about it, too.

  “The repairs are more extensive than the mechanic thought,” I said. “Apparently, Nana didn’t take very good care of the car.”

  “So, what does that mean?”

  “Well, one thing it means is that I don’t have enough to cover the bill,” I snapped.

  Annabelle sighed. “I told you, I’m sure you can use a credit card.”

  “I forgot my card,” I lied. It was actually tucked away in my wallet, in case of dire emergency. But I wasn’t there yet.

  “You did what? Charlotte, this is what I’m talking about. How did you expect to get very far without a credit card?”

  “Why do you think I asked you to wire me cash?”

  “Oh God. Charlotte, I swear. Look, I’ll pay the difference. Just have them call me when it’s done, and I’ll handle it. You can pay me back when you get here.”

  “It’s going to take longer as well,” I said. “At least a week.”

  “A week?”

  “They have to order parts and I don’t know what else. I told you, the car is a mess. Jonathan basically told me I shouldn’t have bought it.”

  “Who’s Jonathan?”

  I switched from tracing Denise’s name to running my finger over the heart. “The mechanic.”

  “You’re on a first-name basis with your mechanic?”

  “What am I supposed to call him, if not his first name?”

  “How do you even know what it is?”

  “Because he told me. Why is that so strange?”

  “Just ... I know how you can be, Charlotte.”

  My hand balled into a fist. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know how ... impulsive you can be. I mean, just look at the situation you’re in now. You talk Nana out of her car and drive halfway across the country because of a misunderstanding.”

  “I was pushed down a flight of stairs. That’s not a misunderstanding.”

  “Alright, then an accident. But rather than stay and work it out, you run. And now you’re in a town in the middle of God knows where, making friends and who knows what else, and I’m the one who has to bail you out. Again.”

  “That’s not fair,” I protested, even though she had a point. Over the years, I had gotten myself into messes more than once, and Annabelle had been the one to rescue me.

  “Is it?” she asked. “Look, does Alan have his faults? Of course. But he’s stable. And responsible. And you need that in your life. You need someone to ground you and keep you safe. I can’t be that for you.”

  I was quiet. Was I the one who had been misunderstanding Alan all this time? When I thought he was stifling me, was he actually protecting me? Did I really need someone like that to balance me out?

  “And, like I said,” Annabelle continued. “If you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. But give him a chance to explain. And maybe a chance to change. Maybe he did go too far, but that doesn’t mean he can’t learn from his mistakes and do better.”

  “I have to go,” I lied. “People are waiting for the phone. Remember, it’s going to be at least a week before the car is ready.”

  “Call me when it’s done,” she said. “We’ll work this out. Okay?”

  I murmured an answer and hung up the phone.

  I pressed both hands against my stomach, trying to slow the churning. I thought I was going to be sick.

  What was I going to do now?
<
br />   I didn’t have enough to pay the repair bill, much less my hotel and food costs. Never mind gas and travel expenses even if I did decide to drive back to New York.

  And if I didn’t go back? What then? Annabelle would certainly tell Alan where I was. I could always lie, of course, and tell her I was on my way. That would buy me at least two days of a head start … maybe three if I was lucky.

  The big unknown was whether I could access my trust fund without alerting Alan of my whereabouts.

  How could I have been so stupid? I wanted to tear my hair out in frustration. If I hadn’t encouraged Mr. Farley to hire him, none of this would be an issue.

  After we got engaged, Mr. Farley was looking for an associate who could eventually work his way up to partner. I, in my naive stupidity, recommended Alan.

  At the time, it made so much sense. Alan explained how this way, we could keep the trust “all in the family,” and he would have a vested interest in making sure everything was handled correctly. It seemed smart. Everyone liked him, including my father, so why not have someone we already trusted in that role versus a stranger we knew nothing about?

  But now ... God, I was such an idiot. I never should have trusted him. And he had easy access to all my financial transactions.

  Well, there wasn’t anything I could do about it now. I just had to figure out a way to deal with it.

  A sudden pounding on the plexiglass door startled me, causing me to jump and knock my head yet again against the glass. Two teenage girls stood on the outside, both dressed like Madonna in lace, fishnet stockings, and miniskirts. “Dude! What are you doing in there?”

  “Sorry,” I said, opening the door. They both glared at me.

  “As if,” one of them huffed as she pushed past me. Her black eyeliner was smeared around her red-rimmed eyes. I wondered if one of them was named Denise. They both crammed themselves into the booth, shutting the door with a bang behind them.

  I made my way out of the drugstore, my mind spinning around uselessly.

  What was I going to do?

  Chapter 8

  As I stepped onto the sidewalk, my stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten.

  Even though I felt like I had no business buying myself lunch at Aunt May’s, I headed there anyway. I had to eat. It wasn’t like I was going to fast for the next week. And, at this point, the amount of money I needed to make up the difference was so big, tacking on a few meals wasn’t going to make that much of a difference one way or another.