“She didn’t leave anyone in a lurch,” Celia scoffed. “People are always covering for people last minute at the hospital.”
Daniel leaned forward, putting his hand out to stop me from asking a question. “Celia, what do you know about Ellen disappearing?”
Celia’s eyes widened before she quickly ducked her head. “No ... I mean ... nothing, really ...”
“Celia,” Daniel said.
“Celia, what are you hiding?” Barry asked.
“I’m not,” Celia said defensively, her lips pushed down into pout. “I ... alright, look, she may have said something ...”
Daniel slapped the back of his chair. “Are you kidding me? Celia, why didn’t you say something sooner? Or, better yet, tell her mother? Do you realize how worried she is?”
“I just ...” Celia sighed. “Last Saturday night, we went out for a few drinks, and she was ranting about how much she hated this town and wanted to get away. I ...” she went back to staring at her cosmo, carefully stirring it like her life depended on it. “I ... might have encouraged her to leave.”
Barry’s jaw dropped as he stared at his wife. “You did what?”
“Jesus, Celia,” Daniel said, digging out his phone. “You have to call her mother. Now!”
“It’s past ten,” Celia said.
“I don’t care.”
Celia looked wildly around the table, reminding me of a cornered rat. “I didn’t tell her to leave without telling anyone,” she said, a note of pleading in her voice. “I would never tell her to just ... vanish, without letting people know. You have to believe me.”
“But you know she’s prone to doing just that,” Daphne said. “She’s done it before. You know this.”
“She only did it that once,” Celia said. “Well, maybe twice if you count that other time, but she wasn’t even gone a day. I never dreamed ... she caught such hell disappearing the way she did. It never occurred to me she would do it again. I thought ... look, I told her if she wasn’t happy to just go. Quit her job, pack up her things, and move out of town. Her mother is here, but otherwise there’s nothing holding her here. So, why should she stay?”
“I still don’t understand why you didn’t say something earlier,” Barry said.
Celia’s shoulders slumped. “I guess ... I didn’t think it was related. What we were talking about was her telling people she was leaving. Giving notice at work, to her landlord. Packing her things. When I heard she was missing, I thought maybe something else had happened. Like she got into a fight with someone or something like that. I figured she just disappeared for a few hours to cool off, and then she’d be back.”
Daniel shook his head as he stood up, cell phone in hand. “I’m going to call her mother. She may be reaching out to you herself, so consider yourself warned.” He strode away from the table.
Barry eyed his wife as he reached for his beer.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped. “You know how difficult it can be to leave this town. Maybe she did just have enough.”
“Hold on,” JD drawled. “I thought you said before that people left here all the time. So, what do you mean, ‘It can it be difficult’?”
Celia didn’t answer, just pressed her lips together. Her lipstick had smeared, and she looked ... messy … unlike her “normal” self. Mia must have noticed, too, because she took it upon herself to answer.
“It’s like what you said you heard earlier, JD. This town, well, it has a way of deciding who it wants to keep and who it wants to leave,” Mia said. “Some people want to move here, but they can’t. Others want to leave, but they can’t.”
“What do you mean, they ‘can’t’?” JD asked.
“Like, if they’re trying to move here, all these weird things happen. Every house they want to buy or rent falls through. Or if they’re trying to leave, the same thing happens—deals fall through, and they just ... stay.”
JD looked around the table incredulously. “But, that’s just bad luck or something. You can’t really think it’s the town.”
Mia shrugged. “A lot of strange things have happened here over the years,” she said. “It goes way back—to the 1890s, when all the adults disappeared.”
JD stared at Mia like she had just sprouted a second head. “What?”
“It was the year of the terrible blizzards,” Barry said. “1888, I think. They called it “The Children’s Blizzard.” By the time all the snow melted, every adult who lived there had disappeared.”
“Disappeared? Where did they go?”
“No one knows,” Mia said.
“But that makes no sense,” JD said. “How could a whole town just vanish?”
“The whole town didn’t vanish,” Barry corrected. “Just the adults. The kids were still here.”
“So, what did they say?”
“They didn’t,” Mia said. “They claimed to have no idea what happened.”
JD gave Barry and Mia a hard look before picking up his beer. “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?”
“What are we talking about?” Daniel asked, sitting back down and picking up his beer.
“The legend of Redemption,” Barry said. “JD thinks we’re pulling his leg about all the adults disappearing.”
“Oh, that. Nope, it’s all on record. You can visit the public library if you don’t believe us. They have all the research on file.”
“I may have to do just that,” JD said. “So, how do you know if the town wants you or not?”
“You’ll know,” Daniel said. “Trust me. The town isn’t shy about telling you.”
JD still didn’t look convinced.
There was a bit of an awkward pause, and I thought again about leaving. Celia was staring into her empty cosmo glass, but I could see black streaks on her face from swiping at her eyes to keep from crying. I didn’t want to feel sorry for her. She certainly had never felt any empathy for me, with everything I’d been through in this town.
On the other hand, it was pretty clear how much she hated living here.
Equally clear was that the town wasn’t going to let her go.
Still staring down at the table, she dabbed at her eyes with a cocktail napkin, trying unsuccessfully to wipe away the black mascara stains. I deliberately turned my attention to my own nearly empty wine glass.
I should just go home. On top of everything else that had happened, I was way too uncomfortable being at the same table with JD and Daniel. I could feel their energy prickling against my skin, and it was exhausting.
I failed to catch Mia’s eye (hoping I could wordlessly communicate that I was ready to head for home), so instead, I squeezed out of the booth on the pretext of using the restroom.
The bathroom was cool and quiet, a welcome respite from the overheated bar that stunk of smoke, beer, perfume, and fried food. The bar had stopped serving at least an hour before, but somehow, the smell of food lingered. I wet a paper towel and pressed it against my overheated forehead.
I looked as hot and unkempt as I felt. My face was flushed, my eyes glassy, and my hair was everywhere. I was wearing a sleeveless, emerald-green tunic, one of my favorite tops (it brought out the green in my hazel-and-gold eyes, and the red in my reddish-brownish-blondish hair), but at that moment, I looked frazzled and out of sorts.
I had always been envious of those women who seemed perfectly poised and pulled together no matter what. My mother was one of them, and despite her best efforts to get me to follow suit, I perpetually looked like I was one step away from utter chaos.
I fluffed my hair and repaired my blotchy lipstick. Not that it really mattered—I was just going home. But, at the very least, I could look somewhat presentable making my exit. I steadied myself, taking a deep breath before pushing open the bathroom door.
“Took you long enough,” said a deep, male voice.
&
nbsp; Daniel.
Great. Just great.
He leaned casually against the wall in front of the bathroom, arms crossed, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. But his demeanor—his energy—said something altogether different. I could feel it … he was a coiled spring, ready to pounce.
“What is it with you?” I asked crossly, trying to cover the fire I felt in every cell of my body with him so close. I could feel beads of sweat pop up on my forehead, even though I had just mopped my face with cold water. “Every time I go to the bathroom in this bar, you’re here waiting when I come out. Are you stalking me or something? Is this going to be a thing with you?”
His eyes narrowed and his gaze grew more intense. “Why are you here with JD?” he asked abruptly.
His bluntness took me by surprise. “First off, why do you care? You’re the one who canceled on me.”
“I told you, I had to work.”
“Yet here you are. You could have asked if we could meet later, but you didn’t.”
“I didn’t know how long I would be. I didn’t want to keep you waiting all night if I had to keep delaying. I wanted ...” his voice broke off. “Well, it doesn’t seem to matter what I wanted. It sure didn’t take you long to find my replacement.”
“Replacement? As in, JD?”
He leveled a look at me. “It’s pretty obvious. He’s sitting right next to you.”
“I’m also sitting next to Daphne,” I retorted. “Do you think I’m on a date with her, too?”
His jaw clenched. “It’s more than that, and you know it.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get going.”
“By yourself?”
“Maybe,” I said, exasperated. “Or maybe not. I’ll have to see.”
“Oh yeah? See about what?”
“Again, not really your business, Daniel.”
He stepped closer to me, and I caught the distinctive scent of his spicy soap and, well, “maleness.” While remaining completely in control on the surface, it was clear his emotions were boiling underneath. “What if I want it to be my business?”
I wanted to back up a step, to put some distance between us. My senses were overwhelmed, with him so close, and I struggled to keep my breath even. “Then maybe you shouldn’t be so vague when you cancel last minute.”
“I told you I might have to cancel plans at the last minute when we talked about being together. That’s just the way it is, dating a cop.”
I shook my head. “I’m not talking about the fact that you had to cancel. I’m talking about how you communicated it. You gave me a vague excuse, with no options. I would have waited up for you. But you ghosted me.”
He frowned. “I didn’t ghost you. I texted, too.”
For a cop, he could really be obtuse. “I know you texted, but the point is, it feels like ghosting when you’re so vague. You didn’t mention when we might see each other again, even. And then, to make it all even worse, you show up here, at the bar.”
He paused, mulling over what I had said. “Okay, so I see your point, about the ghosting. That doesn’t mean you should jump right into another date.”
“I love Daphne, but she’s not my type.”
He pressed his lips together, and I got the sense he was fighting the urge to reach out and shake me. A jolt of heat shot through my belly as memories of the last time I had pushed him rose up in my mind. “I’m not talking about Daphne,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, you mean JD?” I asked sweetly. “The person sitting on the other side of me? Daniel, just because I’m sitting with a group of people doesn’t mean I’m dating any of them.”
“So, you’re not on a date?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’d think a cop would be more perceptive. Do I actually need to spell it out?”
“This is cozy.” Startled, I glanced over Daniel’s shoulder to see JD lounging against the opposite wall. He grinned as he met my eyes. I wondered how much he had heard of our conversation.
I glanced over at Daniel, and I could tell he was thinking the same thing, but he kept his face composed. “Did you need something?”
His grin widened. “Nope. Just hitting the head, but I didn’t want to interrupt.” He lazily straightened himself, pushing off the wall, and ambled toward the bathroom. He made a point of brushing against me as he walked past. I hurriedly took a step back, shaking my arm, as if I could shake off the feel of him.
He smirked at me over his shoulder. “Good seeing you again, Becca. Daniel.” He pushed open the bathroom door and disappeared inside.
Next to me, Daniel clenched his fists. If I thought he looked angry before, it was nothing compared to how he looked now, which was about ready to explode. “I have to go,” I said. Suddenly, I wanted out, before JD reappeared.
“Becca,” Daniel called out before I had barely taken a step. He reached out to touch my arm, freezing me in place. I was somehow hot and cold all at once, and it was all I could do to face him.
“I meant it about rescheduling our date. Are you willing?” He had taken a step closer, and I could feel his breath hot against my neck, smelling of beer and desire.
I paused to center myself, sucking in the thick, humid, alcohol-laced, perfumed air from the bar, trying to get my senses under control. “If you really mean it,” I said, forcing myself to focus on what I had to say, instead of on the emotions swirling underneath. “If you feel like it’s not going to compromise your position in this town to be seen with me, then yes, I’m willing. But, make sure you really want to do this, Daniel. Don’t start something you have no intention of finishing.”
With that, I walked away.
I didn’t look back, and he didn’t call me back.
Chapter 3
I was in the kitchen.
It was dark, but the light of the moon shone through the window, turning everything a slivery grey. Something sparkled on the table, winking and glittering in the moonlight.
“Becca,” said a voice, and I realized I wasn’t alone. Aunt Charlie, the one I had inherited my house from, was with me. “Sit,” she said, shifting so I could see her face across from me.
“Did you know?” I demanded. “What happened to Jessica?”
This was the first time I dreamed about Aunt Charlie since finding out the truth.
She sighed, and seemed to age in front of me. “You had to remember yourself. It was the only way.”
“No.” I shook my head. “You could have told me.”
“I know it seems like it ...”
“Did you know when you were alive?” I asked. “Did you know and not tell me?”
She gave me a look. “How could I have told you? You refused to have any contact with me after that night.”
She had a point. But still.
“You could have done something,” I said. “Written me a letter or ...”
She raised her hands. “Becca, this really isn’t helpful.”
I stood up quickly, so quickly I caused the table to jump, including whatever was on it that had been catching the light of the moon. “Did you know? Answer me.” Why was it so hard to get a straight answer?
She paused. “I didn’t know,” she said softly. “Not for certain. I had my suspicions, but ... they were just suspicions.” She leaned across the table, her hazel-and-gold eyes meeting mine. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life,” she continued, her voice so low I had to strain to hear her. “A lot of mistakes. I have a lot of regrets. But maybe the biggest one is that you’re going to pay the price for my mistakes.”
“What are you talking about?”
She sighed again. She appeared to be even older than she was just a few minutes before, now nearly ancient. She reached out a crooked, wrinkled hand to stroke the glittering thing sitting in the
middle of the table, which I could finally make out as a polished, green stone.
“You, Becca. You’re going to have to deal with the fallout of ...” she paused, her voice so quiet, it was nearly a whisper, “… the evil that was done.”
The temperature in the room dropped. It was so cold, I could see the white puffs of my breath in the air. I tried to inhale deeply, but it felt like sharp little knives cutting and slicing and dicing my lungs.
“What did you say?” I tried to form the words, but they came out in a gasp. I could feel liquid dripping down my chin. Was it blood?
“You’re in danger,” Aunt Charlie said. “You need to protect yourself.”
“Danger?” I rasped, barely able to speak. “What ...?”
She pushed the stone over, her hand so curled up with age, it was practically useless. “It’s already started. I wish ... I wish I could stop it, but if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.” She reached out to grab my hand with one, wrinkled claw. “The evil that was done is here. It’s watching you. It wants you. You must be careful.”
“I don’t ....”
She squeezed my arm painfully, her fingers so icy cold, they burned. “Promise me, Becca.”
“I ...” I had so many questions. What did she do? What was the evil? Why am I in danger? And from what?
What was happening?
Yet I couldn’t utter a word. My tongue felt thick and numb, frozen in my mouth.
With her other hand, she pushed the polished stone toward me. Her eyes glittered in the moonlight, just like the stone. “Take this. For protection.”
I looked down as she gave it a nudge, causing it to roll into my hand. “It’s a crystal,” Aunt Charlie said. “Jade.”
It, too, was freezing. I could feel the cold leeching through it into my body. I wondered if I would ever be warm again.
“Promise me, Becca,” Aunt Charlie’s voice rose, sounding almost like a scream. “Promise me!”
I awoke in bed, tangled in sweaty sheets. Oscar was curled up on the pillow next to me. For a moment, I was completely disoriented, my overloaded senses unable to discern between hot and cold. The curtain billowed out as a cool breeze filled the room. From the distance, I could hear the low rumble of approaching thunder.
The Evil That Was Done (Secrets of Redemption Book 3) Page 3
