The Evil That Was Done (Secrets of Redemption Book 3)

by Michele PW (Pariza Wacek)

  “You still could have told me,” he said. “We could have gotten proof together.”

  I shook my head. “The emails said to come alone and not tell anyone. I didn’t want to risk the person getting cold feet and not showing.”

  “But the risk to yourself,” Daniel said. “Didn’t you consider what a dangerous game you were playing?”

  I explained how I thought it was Louise and CB behind everything. “Which is another reason I didn’t tell you,” I sighed. “Because if it was CB trying to help me, I didn’t want to get him in trouble any more than he already was.”

  “You know how crazy that sounds,” Daniel said, but his voice was gentle.

  I put my head in my hands. “I know. I know I shouldn’t want to defend him, but it’s still difficult for me to get my head around who he really was. I keep remembering the cousin who was always there for me, no matter how bad things got.”

  Daniel sighed and reached over to put his hand over mine. “I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me. After all, Chrissy is living here again, too.”

  I half-smiled. “I guess I’m a bleeding heart, eh?”

  He didn’t return the smile. “A bleeding heart that could get herself hurt. Or worse, if she’s not careful.”

  I took a deep breath. “You’re right. I should have told you. I should have done a lot.”

  “Yeah, you should have.” Daniel gave my hand a squeeze before removing it, leaving me feeling cold and alone. “You really got yourself into a mess this time.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Cooperate,” Daniel said simply. “And start looking for a good lawyer.”

  Oh no. I slumped over. Lawyers cost money. Money I didn’t have. Not to mention that I had a pretty lousy track record with lawyers. “You really think it’s going to come to that?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t think it will hurt to have a name to call in case all hell breaks loose.”

  I thought about the latest text from my mother. I had no choice. I was going to have to call her. “Is there anything you can tell me? Anything you know?”

  “I’m not on the case,” he said. “This is Detective Timmons’ show.”

  “What can you tell me about him?”

  “He’s a good cop,” Daniel said. “Fair. Tough. He’s definitely going to turn over every stone.”

  Which meant poking around in my history. Oh God.

  “Even though I’m not officially part of the investigation,” Daniel said. “I’d still like to know what exactly happened. Do you mind telling me? From the beginning.”

  “Of course,” I said. “Let me refill my coffee first. Want some?”

  “Sure.”

  I got us both more coffee before repeating pretty much everything I had told Mia that morning, only skipping over the part about thinking the figure may have been in the house.

  After all, I was changing the locks. And installing an alarm system. Even if there was someone out there following me, he wouldn’t be able to get in anymore. And if I told Daniel, all I would do is worry him even more than he already was.

  “So these emails,” he said when I finished. “They’re anonymous, right? What made you think they were from CB?”

  “Let me go get my computer and show you,” I said, pushing back from the table. “I need to get it anyway. Someone will be by shortly to take it.”

  I fetched my computer from The Studio and brought it down to the kitchen table. “I’m surprised they aren’t here yet,” I said as I opened it up and navigated to my email. “But it works out because now I can show you ...”

  My voice drifted off as I looked for the last email in my inbox. Where was it?

  Daniel leaned over my shoulder. “I don’t see it.”

  “Neither do I,” I said as I clicked around. “I didn’t think ... oh wait. Maybe I moved it.” I opened up my CB folder.

  Empty.

  Stupidly, I stared at my screen. “That can’t be,” I whispered.

  Daniel looked at my computer and then back at me. “What? What is it?”

  “The emails. They’re gone.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t delete them? Maybe check the trash.”

  I clicked over to the trash bin and searched. No trace.

  “Maybe they’re in a different folder,” Daniel suggested, but I was already clicking through them myself.

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “They were just here.”

  “Could someone have accidentally deleted them?” Daniel asked. “Maybe Mia or Chrissy? Without understanding their significance?”

  “Mia and Chrissy have their own computers,” I said. “There’s no reason to log onto mine. But even if they did, I can’t imagine why they would be looking through my email.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t accidentally delete them?”

  “Positive,” I said, but in my head, I was already questioning myself. Was it possible that I accidentally deleted them? I had had that terrible conversation with my mother with my email open. Could I have deleted the emails without thinking?

  The doorbell rang. “Oh God, that’s probably someone to pick up the computer,” I said, starting to feel frantic. “But the emails aren’t here. What do I do?”

  “Take a breath,” Daniel said. “Go answer the door. Let’s see who it is.”

  I took a breath. “But if it’s ...”

  Daniel gently put his hand on my shoulder. “Becca, it’s going to be okay,” he said. “Go answer the door.”

  I wanted to argue with him. Wasn’t he the one who had already told me I was in a lot of trouble? That no one believed my story? And now this? My one hard piece of evidence, the emails, were missing.

  I was going to end up in jail.

  As I suspected, a cop was at the front door. “Ma’am? I’m here for the computer.”

  God, he looked young, with his short, dark hair and clean-shaven face. Was the police force recruiting in high school these days or something? Yet another cop who didn’t look old enough to drive.

  “Come in,” I said. “The computer is in the kitchen.”

  I led the way back, trying to figure out how I was going to explain the missing emails.

  Daniel stood up and introduced himself to the cop, shaking his hand. “We discovered something this morning,” he said.

  “The emails are missing,” I blurted out. “I don’t know what happened to them.”

  “Where did they go?” the cop asked.

  Didn’t I just explain that? Probably not a good tactic to make this cop angry, I realized. Even if he does look like he’s twelve. “I don’t know,” I said. “That’s the problem. They were here yesterday, but now they’re not.”

  Daniel closed my laptop and shot me a hard look. “Have the techs check for tampering,” he said, handing the laptop to the cop (kid). “If Detective Timmons has any questions, he can call me or Becca.”

  The cop glanced at both of us before taking the computer and handing me a receipt. I walked him back to the front door.

  “In a lot of cases, technicians can recover deleted files,” Daniel said when I returned to the kitchen. “The fact that those emails have been deleted may actually help your case. It may prove you do have a stalker.”

  “But, how could he have deleted my emails?” I asked. “I saw him last night. Twenty minutes away. Wait a minute.” The enormity of what was happening me. “He has been in the house! He must have broken in sometime last night and deleted those emails.”

  “Hold on,” Daniel said. “First off, there are ways you can access people’s computers without physically touching them. He didn’t have to break in to delete them, if it truly was him.”

  But I wasn’t hearing Daniel. All I heard in my head was the click of the door. Oscar hissing. “But what if he was in the house?”

  “Do you hav
e any other reason to think that was the case?”

  “I didn’t,” I said. “At least, not at first. Mia has been hearing footsteps, but I hadn’t. And there was one night where I thought I heard a door close, and Oscar hissed, but all the doors were locked. Oh my God, what if he really was in the house?!”

  “Slow down,” Daniel ordered, putting his hands on my shoulders and guiding me to a chair as I fought to control my breathing. I couldn’t think. Everything was racing inside me. “What are you talking about?”

  His hands were warm, gentle, and comforting on my shoulders. I was shivering so hard, I didn’t think I could form any words. He kept his hands on me, steadying me. I breathed in his musky, masculine scent, willing my pulse to slow.

  Daniel patiently watched me, waiting for me to get myself under control. “Now tell me,” he said gently but firmly. “What is going on?”

  I managed to get the story out. About how I thought I heard the click of a downstairs door and Oscar hissing. How Mia and I searched the house but found nothing. How all the doors were locked. How I thought I saw a shadow, but dismissed it as being a figment of my imagination. How, since then, Mia has heard footsteps at night, even though neither Chrissy nor I have.

  He was in the house. A killer was in my house.

  How would I ever feel safe again?

  The more I talked, the darker Daniel’s face became. “You didn’t think to tell me this either?”

  “I ... I didn’t think it was related,” I said.

  “You just said you thought you saw a shadow outside. That’s very relevant.”

  “I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination or not,” I started to explain, but then I stopped myself. It was time to come clean. No more lying. “That’s not completely true,” I sighed. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

  He briefly closed his eyes. “Becca, part of being in a relationship means being honest with each other.”

  I squirmed. “I know. It’s just ... I thought I could handle it. I didn’t think he was actually in the house. Everything was locked. And I thought Mia was just hearing things. Plus, we’re going to get the locks changed and an alarm system put in.”

  “That’s the smartest thing you’ve said yet,” Daniel said. “Who did you call?”

  “I haven’t called anyone yet,” I said, but the words were hardly out of my mouth before Daniel was pulling his phone out of his pocket. “We’re getting this taken care of today,” he said. “At the very least, the locks. And if they can’t come today, I’m sleeping here on the couch until they do.” I opened my mouth to tell him that wasn’t necessary, but the set look on his face made me close it. Besides, a part of me felt a little better, with how protective he was being.

  He paused, meeting my eyes. “We’re going to get through this, Becca. We’re going to get to the bottom of it.”

  God, I hoped he was right.

  Chapter 17

  There was something I was missing. Something I had forgotten about.

  But what?

  I padded through the darkened house, trying to remember. What was teasing my memory? What had I missed? It was right there at the tip of my tongue.

  Maybe a cup of tea would help. A cup of tea helps everything, or at least, that’s what my Aunt Charlie would say.

  “Tea won’t help you now.”

  I blinked. I was in the kitchen with Aunt Charlie. We were both sitting at the table. “You always said a cup of tea cures everything.”

  She smiled, but it was a tired, worn-out smile. “That was before.”

  The kitchen was dark and full of shadows, but somehow, I could see Aunt Charlie clearly, lit up from the light of the full moon. Her skin was grey, and her wrinkles stood out in stark contrast.

  “Took you long enough,” another voice said. I turned and saw Jessica, also sitting at the table, examining her nails.

  “Jessica, you’re here.”

  She shrugged. “Where else would I be?” She looked exactly the same as she did the night of the party, right down to her frilly pink top. Forever sixteen.

  She sighed, shaking her head at the state of her manicure.

  “But ... aren’t you upset with me?”

  Her lashes flickered up at me. “Why would I be upset with you?”

  “Well, uh,” I wasn’t sure if I could say it, if I could say the words, because it’s my fault you’re here. Instead, I said, “The last time you showed up in my dreams, you were a corpse telling me more would die unless I remembered.”

  She gave me a “duh” look. “And you did remember. So what’s the problem?”

  “But ...”

  Jessica stopped picking at her nails and stared at me. “But, what?” she asked impatiently.

  “But ...” oh God, she was going to make me say it. “But it’s my fault you’re here.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Becca, stop feeling sorry for yourself. And stop being so melodramatic. We’ve got work to do. You’ve managed to get yourself into one hell of a mess.” She glanced at my aunt. “The living. How can you stand it?”

  “She’s doing her best,” Aunt Charlie said to Jessica.

  Jessica shook her head and went back to her nails. “Whatever.”

  I still didn’t feel right. “But ...” I tried to say, but Jessica interrupted me.

  “Becca, really. There’re other things you need to focus on. Like protecting yourself from the evil that was done.”

  I felt a cold draft trickle down my back.

  “It’s here,” Aunt Charlie said gravely. “The evil. You must protect yourself.” She reached out and pushed a green stone closer to me. The jade. It glistened in the grey moonbeams. “The stone. It will protect you. Did you find it yet?”

  I remembered my previous dream, when Aunt Charlie held the same stone. “What are you talking about? Was I supposed to look for one?”

  Aunt Charlie leaned forward, the light shifting on her face, illuminating the skull beneath her grey skin. “Find it.”

  “Don’t be an idiot like I was,” Jessica said. “Listen to your aunt.”

  “Wait,” I said to Jessica. “We know what happened to you. There was no evil involved. What are you talking about?”

  Jessica’s lips stretched into an empty grin. “Are you sure you know what happened to me?”

  “But ... I ...”

  “What happened to my body?” Her lips continued stretching, opening, until, with a shock, I realized she too looked like a hollow skull. I recoiled from both of them.

  “I don’t know. CB won’t tell me,” I said. “He won’t tell anyone.”

  Her mouth seemed to widen. “Maybe he isn’t telling because he doesn’t know.”

  CB doesn’t know? “But, he helped cover up what happened. How could he not know?”

  Jessica shrugged. “Sometimes things aren’t what they seem.” She clicked her jaw together, looking more and more like a grinning skeleton.

  My mind was reeling. “I don’t understand. What happened to you?”

  “Never mind that,” Aunt Charlie said, now a skeleton herself. “All will be revealed in time. Right now, you need to find the jade. Protect yourself. Before it’s too late.”

  I awoke with a jerk, finding myself back in my bed, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon, filling the sky with oranges and pinks. Next to me, Oscar yawned, displaying an impressive mouthful of razor-sharp teeth.

  I was shocked I had slept at all, much less as long as I had. As exhausted as I was when I had finally fallen into bed last night, I had been sure I would be up tossing and turning, unable to sleep, haunted by all that had been happening to me. Instead, I fell asleep almost immediately, and slept deeply.

  Daniel had spent most of the day with me, helping me get the locks changed, insisting the locksmith add additional security features to all our doors and windows, and si
tting in on my meeting with the alarm system people. He also did a careful search of the house inside and out, checked my windows, the basement, garage, and more.

  There were no obvious signs that anyone had been in the house.

  “Keep in mind that it’s possible,” Daniel had said early in the evening, as the three of us sat outside, Mia and I with wine and Daniel with a beer. Chrissy had volunteered to make dinner and was busy in the kitchen. “It’s possible it was all done remotely.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Well, it’s possible your computer was infected with a virus at some point. You clicked on a file you shouldn’t have, and now your computer is infected. That virus could have deleted the emails.”

  “So, the good news in that case would be that no one has been inside the house,” Mia said. “The bad news though, is that whoever sent the virus could have accessed anything on your computer.”

  I shivered even though the day was warm and humid. “Not particularly reassuring.”

  I thought about how Mia was hearing footsteps. Clearly, she was already having difficulty sleeping. I struggled to find the words, not wanting to make light of her worries about her personal safety.

  “I still don’t understand how that could happen though,” I said. “I don’t click on spam.”

  “It may not have looked like spam,” Daniel said. “It could have been disguised to look like something from someone you know.”

  “This is just getting worse and worse,” I said. “Someone has been watching me that closely to know what I would click on?”

  “It doesn’t have to be that close,” Daniel said. “Take a look at your social media networks. What you’re posting. Who your friends are. It wouldn’t be that difficult.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “I’m never posting on social media again.”

  Daniel half-smiled. “Too late.”

  “God.”

  A yellow chickadee flew into the bird bath, splashing around and causing Oscar to sit up and take notice. A monarch butterfly perched on a marigold. The beauty and peace surrounding me was so at odds with my life that I felt almost disoriented, as if I were observing past events through a hall of mirrors.