by Brenda Novak
“Have you been thinking about what Mr. Judd had to say? Do you believe him—about the unknown caller?”
She remembered how remorseful and sincere her kindergarten teacher had seemed. “Yeah, I do.”
“Who do you think made those calls?”
She hiked her bag up higher on her shoulder. “Who do you suppose?”
“It would be a smart move for your father to make,” he conceded. “Since Mr. Judd knew the extent of your parents’ marriage problems, it would be one way to make it seem as though your mother was still...” he glanced back at his son and, she knew, tempered his words for that reason “...capable of making calls.”
“Right.”
“Your father’s an expert at playing people, is all about neutralizing possible threats.”
“How do you know?” she asked in surprise.
“He’s been trying to neutralize me ever since you got back.”
“This is the first you’ve mentioned it.”
“I didn’t see any reason to upset you, but maybe you should be aware of how he works.”
She already was. She’d grown up with him, after all. The way he’d withhold his love if she ever said or did anything to displease him was just one of his manipulative tactics. He’d trained her and Randy like he trained his dogs—to believe the only thing that mattered in life was his approval.
It made her sad to think Randy was still an emotional slave to their father. So what if he’d inherited the dealership while she’d had to make her own money? The trade-off—the freedom—was worth it.
“What did he do?” she asked.
“We’ll talk about that later. Get some sleep, okay?”
She nodded, thanked him for dinner and stepped away from the vehicle so he could leave.
He cast her a final glance before putting the transmission into Reverse. Then she was looking at his taillights as he pulled out of the lot.
Who would’ve thought Micah would be the one to help her?
She shouldn’t be relying on him, she told herself. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t, even if she had the chance. But his profession made him invaluable to her investigation. What he’d done for her today had saved so much time and energy.
As she crossed the walkway to her room, she shook her head at how narrowly they’d missed being discovered by Paige. “That was close,” she muttered as she used her key card to unlock the door.
Although she was tired, she was filled with a strange sort of nervous energy, was planning on taking a hot shower to help her calm down and quit thinking about Micah. So many things kept swirling through her head, sending odd impulses to her body. The way he smelled. The amount of muscle he’d put on. The thickness of his hair and the dark beard growth on his face. She still had a thing for him, which was something she had to get over, especially because she could never stay in Millcreek, not with her father here, and he’d never leave Trevor.
The memory of his kiss, from when they were in high school, rose in her mind, making her wonder if he’d kiss the same way as a man, or if that had changed.
Stop thinking about him, she chastened herself. Shower and bed. That was what she needed to focus on. But as she went inside, she stepped on something, heard it crinkle.
Was it a bill? Did the front office think she was checking out?
When she snapped on the light, she discovered that someone had slipped an envelope with her name on it under the door, and it wasn’t on the motel stationery. It said McBride New & Used Autos in the upper-left corner.
* * *
After stopping by Paige’s house to get some overnight clothes for Trevor and settling him into bed at his place, Micah milled around the boxes in the living room. He was trying not to think about how great it had been to have Sloane in his house all day. He’d wanted her to stay the night, was glad that Trevor was over so he couldn’t ask her. It was crazy how quickly the past ten years could fade away when she was around. All the anger and resentment seemed to melt and disappear, and he just wanted her back, which was so insanely masochistic.
Quit obsessing about her! He should be thinking about his ex-wife instead. He still hadn’t heard from Paige, which was unusual. She’d never dropped Trevor off without making clearly defined plans, had never just left him, especially all night when he had school in the morning. Was this another attempt to manipulate him—one where she was intentionally trying to make him believe she might be in trouble to get him to show some concern?
If so, he didn’t want to reward that kind of behavior. He cared about her as a human being, as Trevor’s mother, but he wasn’t in love with her, and he knew if he caved in and did show that he was getting worried, she’d assume too much and would once again start to hope for more.
He decided to wait it out. Maybe she was having such a wonderful time that, for once, she’d forgotten about him. That would be a good thing. If she could get over him, maybe they’d have the chance to establish a healthier relationship, one in which he’d be given more time and freedom when it came to their son.
His phone rang. Assuming he was hearing from Paige at last, he checked the caller ID.
It wasn’t her; it was his mother. Surprised that she’d be up so late, since she and his father were both early risers, he hit the talk button. “Mom, what are you doing up this time of night?”
“It’s only eleven.”
“That’s late for you.”
“True. I’ve been on the phone.”
“Talking to...”
“My sister. Who else?”
He chuckled. She and his aunt June, who together with her husband and oldest son owned the breakfast café in town, were identical twins, and they talked to each other every day. “What was so important that you didn’t head to bed as soon as you hung up with her?”
“She said there was a lot of talk at the restaurant this morning.”
“About...”
“Sloane McBride.”
He stopped moving. He’d been wondering when his parents would learn of Sloane’s return. He’d decided he wouldn’t be the one to tell them. He was too transparent where Sloane was concerned, didn’t want his mother to start offering advice on his love life. “What about her?”
“She’s here. In Millcreek.”
When he didn’t respond, she added, “Hello?”
“I haven’t gone anywhere.”
“Well? Are you surprised? Excited? What?”
He couldn’t lie to her and say he didn’t know Sloane was back. She’d see through that instantly. And Trevor could accidentally say something about having dinner with Sloane that would give him away. Then the fact that he’d lied would be more telling than the truth. “I know. I bumped into her at Paige’s last Friday.”
“She’s staying with your ex-wife?”
“They used to be friends, remember? Best friends.”
“Until Paige fell in love with you.”
He scratched his neck. “Yeah. That definitely complicated things.” Paige’s behavior had to have been hard on Sloane, in addition to everything else she was going through, but he hadn’t thought much about it at the time. He’d been young, self-absorbed and so confident he’d have Sloane forever he’d simply ignored Paige’s overtures, didn’t let them bother him.
“So was it good to see her? Are you glad she’s back?”
He dropped his hand. “Mom, don’t start playing matchmaker. She’s not a viable option for me.”
“Why not?” she asked. “You’ve been in love with her since you were sixteen. She was the girl you should’ve married.”
“Are you forgetting that she ran out on me?”
“What did you expect her to do? Marry you at eighteen?”
It didn’t escape his notice that Sloane had said something similar. “She’s the reason I got involved with Paige.”
&nb
sp; “You’re the one who slept with Paige. You have no one to blame but yourself for that.”
“You’re suggesting I should’ve known she’d be back eventually, should’ve waited ten years? Do you understand how long ten years is to an eighteen-year-old?”
“Maybe she would’ve come back sooner if...if things had gone differently.”
“She wouldn’t have. That’s what I’m telling you.”
“Well, she must regret leaving. She’s here now, isn’t she?”
“She’s only back to look for her mother.”
“She told you that?”
“Yes. I helped her today, found some people she needed to talk to.”
“How nice of you!”
“Thank you,” he said in exasperation. “Are you finally back on my side?”
“I’ve always been on your side, Micah. You know that. But what are the chances she’ll find her mother after so long?”
“Not good, which was why I was trying to help.”
“Will her father get behind this search? Really make something happen?”
“Are you kidding? He’s up for reelection next year. He doesn’t want people starting to speculate on whether he killed her. Think of what his enemies could do with that.”
“Killed her! Don’t tell me Sloane believes that’s a possibility.”
“I’m afraid so. Her parents were the only two people there that night—except her.”
“What does she remember?”
“Nothing definitive,” he said, because he didn’t want his mother telling her sister, who might tell God-only-knew-who-else that Sloane remembered her father getting physical with her mother. Ed was leery of Sloane’s return as it was. If rumors like that started to circulate, he’d be livid, even more determined to silence her.
“I bet she looks good...”
Micah bit back a sigh. “She’s a model. Of course she looks good.”
“You didn’t feel anything when you were with her? You’re over her?”
God, he wished he could say that. Instead, he’d spent most of the day trying to stop himself from imagining what it would be like to take her back to bed. He felt he could provide her with a much better experience now that he wasn’t a virgin himself.
But he couldn’t sleep with her, even if she was willing. He’d be asking for more of the same kind of hurt she’d dished out before. He wasn’t going to be stupid enough to walk off another emotional cliff. “Mom, stop.”
“I’m just asking!”
“I won’t talk about it.”
“Because you’d like to get her back.”
He dropped onto the couch and stared at the ceiling above him. “I’m about to hang up...”
“Just give me a little hint! Then I’ll know what to do.”
“You shouldn’t do anything. This isn’t any of your business.”
“But I can’t stand seeing you so unhappy.”
“I’m not unhappy. I’m a big boy, coping well with being a single dad until I’m ready to start dating again.”
“Which will be when?”
He heard the challenge in her voice. “Soon.”
“You’re just trying to mollify me.”
“Desperately,” he admitted.
He heard her make a sound of irritation. “If you won’t let me get involved, you’ll have to fight for her yourself. Do you hear? This is your chance. If you want her, make sure you give it all you’ve got.”
Micah hated how those words made his heart pound. Part of him wanted nothing more than to fight for Sloane. But besides all the crap he’d have to deal with when it came to Paige, and some legitimate concerns for what another woman entering the picture at this juncture would do to his son, especially this woman, they’d been apart for ten years. Did he even really know her?
It was possible the woman he remembered, the woman he wanted, didn’t even exist anymore...
Except...he’d spent the day with her, and she didn’t seem to have changed a great deal, despite all of her success. That was the weird thing. Being with her had been exciting, easy, natural. But it was possible he just wanted to believe she was the same because of some testosterone-driven compulsion to conquer her at last.
“Good night, Mom. I’ll call you later,” he said and went to charge his phone so he could go to bed. He had to be careful or he’d screw up his life again—and the stakes were a lot higher nowadays.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sloane sat on the bed, staring at the envelope she’d found. She hoped it was from her brother. She wanted it to contain an apology for how he’d treated her on Friday or at least an honest admission that he had his own suspicions and uncertainties about what had gone on twenty-three years ago. Being the only defector in the family made her feel terrible. Even if Randy refused to delve into the past under any circumstances, she wished they could at least have a heart-to-heart, that she could gain a little understanding for why she had to handle the situation differently. She missed him, missed their father, too, in a weird, crazy way.
Or maybe she didn’t miss her father exactly. She just wished for things to be different between them. The bond that tied a child to his or her parent, even if that parent was difficult, wasn’t easily broken. So as much as she’d tried, at times, to forget him and move on, there seemed to be no escape from the feelings of guilt and inadequacy, the desire to please him despite her misgivings and the temptation to give him what he wanted and remain silent, pretend that night had been no different than what he said so she could return to the family.
But she couldn’t give in, not without feeling even worse for ignoring her intuition and abandoning her mother, who hadn’t had a champion in all the years she’d been gone. Clara deserved more.
“You’re just destined to be conflicted,” she said to herself and braced for whatever she was about to find as she ripped open the envelope. It wasn’t that Randy believed in their father’s innocence. That was what bothered her most. It was that he was determined not to believe anything that could threaten his own well-being. There was a difference between not believing and refusing to believe.
Sloane unfolded the letter and checked the signature at the bottom. It wasn’t from Randy; it was from Hadley, his wife, or so she thought. There was no official signature, just an H, but with the letterhead, that assumption stood to reason. Hadley had had something to say when she stopped by earlier, something she hadn’t had the chance to put into words before Randy had called and sent her scrambling to get Misty back in the Land Rover.
Sloane propped the pillows behind her and leaned back while she read.
Sloane,
Sorry I had to rush off. That wasn’t the first meeting I’d hoped it would be. But I came to tell you that I think you’re doing the right thing. I can’t say why, but keep looking. You’ll find what you want eventually.
—H
Sloane read the letter again, more carefully. Hadley knew something, something she didn’t want to say. But...what? And how might that impact the investigation?
Carefully folding the sheet of paper, she put it back in the envelope and then into her purse. While encouragement was good, she needed details, which meant she’d have to approach her sister-in-law, gain her trust and get her to talk.
She picked up her phone to text Micah, only to put it down before she could. She’d tell him tomorrow or the next day, whenever she had the chance. She couldn’t turn to him every few minutes.
But her resolve lasted all of eight minutes.
You still awake?
When he didn’t answer right away, she assumed he was asleep and went to wash her face and brush her teeth. But his response was waiting for her when she was done.
Yeah. I’m here. What’s up?
She nibbled at her bottom lip. Apparently she hadn’t stayed away from Millcreek long enough becau
se he still held the same power over her he had before. Hadley left a note under my door.
Your brother’s wife? What kind of note?
One that tells me I’m on the right track, to keep looking.
You’re kidding.
No.
Her phone rang.
Sloane pulled her knees into her chest as she answered Micah’s call. “Did I wake you?”
“Not really. I was just starting to doze off.” His voice had a slight rasp, as if he was half-asleep. She liked the sound of it, liked that the harshness that’d been there before, when she first returned, was gone. “What did she say exactly?”
“You were sleeping. We can talk about this tomorrow.”
“No, read it to me.”
“Okay.” She reached for her purse and did as he asked.
“Wow. I’m shocked,” he said when she was done.
“Me, too.”
“I can’t believe she’d put her name on that, knowing she’d probably get into a lot of trouble if Randy found out.”
“Trouble? You make it sound like she’s a child.”
“Hadley is completely cowed, Sloane. She lets your brother make every decision.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve seen them together at various functions. He treats her like a doormat.”
“So you know her?”
“Only peripherally.”
“Is there any chance you have her cell number or some other way to get hold of her?”
“I can get her cell phone and address. Just make sure you don’t go to the house when Randy might be there.”
“The more you talk about him the more I realize he’s turned out a lot like our father.”
“He’s definitely a chip off the old block.”
That wasn’t something Sloane was pleased to hear, but the way Hadley had scrambled off the second Randy had called lent the claim some credibility.
She skimmed the note again. “So what do you suppose she’s talking about? ‘I can’t say why.’”
“She has something specific in mind. She’s seen or heard something over the years, or she wouldn’t leave you a note like that.”