SUCH A GOOD GIRL: An urgently timely gripping mystery with a heartbreaking twist (Eva Rae Thomas Mystery Book 9)

by Willow Rose

  I drove straight into the historic district with the beautiful old buildings from the late-eighteen-hundreds. Sykesville was one of the first railroad lines in the US, and the B&O train station one of the oldest buildings there. The town’s main street was cute enough to have been taken out of a movie. Signs telling me the farmer’s market would return later this spring welcomed me from the lampposts.

  I continued not much farther until I reached the yellow brick building that I recognized from the photo on Haley’s Instagram page. I stopped the car in front of it, then looked at the sign over the entrance, where I had seen Haley standing with her friends from the lacrosse team, wearing their uniforms, cheering after winning their very first game last year.

  I shut off the engine and looked at my watch. Now, all I had to do was wait. Feeling like an actual stalker, I sat by the entrance to the school and waited until the bell rang, and all the kids began rushing out. I stared at each and every face until finally, I saw the one I recognized—the girl from the photo with Tristan.

  I watched her walk to her car and get in. Then I started my engine and followed her.

  Chapter 43

  “Do you have any evidence, any witnesses that can confirm your story?”

  Crystal had read what Rachel had written down, or rather poured from her bleeding heart, she would rather call it.

  Crystal’s eyes were lingering on Rachel.

  “I…no, I don’t. And no one who would testify on my behalf, no.”

  Crystal exhaled. She looked briefly at the paper, then shook her head. “I… I am so sorry this happened to you. I truly am.”

  Crystal had tears in her eyes as she looked at Rachel, and now Rachel was tearing up as well.

  “And you were alone with him in the apartment?”

  “Well, not at first since, as I wrote, a colleague told me that they were all going to his apartment and that it was like a party. But then when I got there, it was only the two of them. And that’s when I realized this was planned. They knew I would never have gone up there if I thought I’d be alone with them or with Wanton. I believed there were going to be a lot of people. That’s what he told me, the guy who brought me there. That everyone was going.”

  “And then it was just those two, huh. That’s when they told you?”

  Rachel swallowed hard, then looked down at her fingers. Talking about this, saying it out loud was so much harder than writing everything down. When saying it out loud, it became so real.

  “One of them blocked the door, and then Wanton asked me if I had ever had a threesome,” she said with a sniffle. “I told them I hadn’t, and then they asked if I wanted to try it. I said no, and panic began to erupt inside me since I couldn’t get to the door where this other guy was standing. I told them I wasn’t interested, then began walking away. Wanton then asked me if I was serious about my career as a reporter, and I said that I was, but I didn’t want it this way.”

  Rachel stopped talking to catch her breath. Her throat was getting so narrow—it was like it was closing up the more of her story she let out of it. Like it was trying to stop the words from flowing.

  She drank water to calm herself, praying she didn’t have another anxiety attack. Her flushing cheeks were a warning sign.

  Please. Not now. Please.

  The more she thought about it, the more her heart began to race, and the sound of her rapid pulse was pounding in her ears.

  “What did they do?’

  Rachel focused on Crystal, trying to swallow the knot growing in her throat, pressing back the desire to scream, cry, and run. This was it. If she were ever to tell her story, if she was ever to get back at Wanton for what he did, then it was now. Either she spoke now, or she held her silence forever.

  Don’t let him get away with it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said and wiped away a tear. “It’s just…well…humiliating. I have been so angry at myself for what happened for many years…”

  Crystal reached out her hand and put it on top of Rachel’s. “Remember who you’re talking to. I have my own story, too, okay? You’re not alone. What happened wasn’t your fault. Do you hear me?”

  Rachel nodded. “Okay.”

  “Tell me what happened next; take your time.”

  “Then they…Wanton he…came closer and closer, and he grabbed me and started to…undress me. I cried and told him I didn’t want to.” Rachel trailed off, her heart bouncing so hard it hurt her chest. She gasped for air, and no more words left her lips for several minutes until she finally composed herself.

  “I just gave in,” she said. “I didn’t scream; I didn’t kick or hit. I just…gave up. And I hate myself for that. I kept blaming myself, telling myself it was my own fault all these years because I went there willingly—because I didn’t put up a fight. I’m not that kind of girl. You must understand. I don’t do things like that. Yet I couldn’t seem to stop it from happening, and now I can’t stop wondering if I put this on myself somehow. If I made him believe that I was into something like that—if I somehow led him on? I have been feeling so shameful about this that I never told anyone.”

  Crystal nodded, tears springing to her eyes. “He was your boss. He is the one to blame. He’s the one who is responsible. I’m so sorry, sweetie. But as I told you, you’re not alone. If only you knew how many girls I have talked to who can tell pretty much the same story. We’ll get him. Together, all of us will take him down for what he has done.”

  Chapter 44

  Haley stopped her old Toyota Camry in front of a small farmhouse outside of town. I watched her park on the long newly-paved driveway, then walk up to the porch and enter. I then parked across the street from her and sat there for a few minutes, scanning the area. We were out in the country now, and the houses were far apart, with lots of land surrounding them. I looked at the neighboring houses, wondering if Tristan was inside any of them.

  How did he end up out here? Was he with relatives? Maybe some distant cousin? And why on earth was Isabella so secretive about it?

  I sat there for about fifteen minutes until I spotted Haley leaving her house again on foot. She walked across the driveway and into the yard next door, then disappeared behind the small house.

  “Where are you going?” I mumbled, then got out of the car. I walked up to the neighboring house and snuck up its side until I reached the corner. I peeked around it, then held my breath.

  It was Haley. She was sitting on the back porch with someone—a boy.

  Tristan.

  I pulled back, so they wouldn’t see me, then stood there for a few minutes, listening to them talk. I was thrilled to have found him and could hardly believe it, but at the same time, I had no idea exactly what to do next. Could I approach him? I hadn’t thought this through, I realized. I just wanted to make sure he was okay and not in any danger. As he sat there with the girl, he seemed fine. But who was he living with? Who were these people who wouldn’t let him go to school or go outside, or even have a phone? I had to make sure he was okay.

  I wasn’t leaving until I knew.

  I started to wonder how to talk to him, to get him alone so he could speak freely, then thought, now is as good a time as ever. I was about to turn around the corner and just face him, ask him if he was okay or if he needed my help when I heard another voice come from inside and pulled back again. I held my breath while listening. Someone had come out to them. The voice was telling Tristan to come back inside.

  “You know they don’t want you out here, Tristan,” it said. “It’s too dangerous. And don’t let them see you with her either. You’ll get us all in trouble.”

  “But…” Tristan complained. “Haley is my friend. She’s the only one keeping me from going insane out here. I have no phone, no social life; all we have is that damn old TV in there to keep me entertained.”

  “I know it’s a lot to ask of you,” the voice continued. “But for now, it has to be this way. You can see Haley all you want once this is over.”

  I st
ared down at my hands. They were shaking as I listened to this woman’s voice. I couldn’t believe my own ears. I knew this voice. I knew this voice very well. But it couldn’t be. I had to be wrong.

  I took in a deep breath, then peeked around the corner once again to see who she was with my own eyes. As I laid my eyes on her, my heart stopped.

  What the heck was going on?

  Chapter 45

  THEN:

  “Who’s ‘W?’”

  Natasha looked at Samantha’s display just as she picked the phone up from the table. Their eyes met, and Nat could immediately sense something was off. Samantha had saved his number under W for Wanton. Just in case anyone peeked through her contacts or—like now—he called when she was with someone.

  “I…I have to take this,” Sam said as she got up and walked into the living room of Nat’s apartment, phone clutched tightly to her ear, hoping that her friend couldn’t hear her speak.

  “H-hello?”

  The voice on the other end was cheerful. “Hello, Samantha?”

  She slightly trembled when hearing his voice. “Y-yes?”

  “It’s the big bad CEO.”

  Samantha stood with the phone pressed against her ear, staring at a window in front of her. A bird was pecking at something on the small balcony. She didn’t know what to respond.

  “Hi,” she simply said, trying to sound like she wasn’t about to cry. What did he want? Why was he calling her on her cell?

  “What are you doing? Are you sitting all alone in your small apartment?”

  “N-no.”

  “I was thinking about stopping by.”

  “But I’m not…I am at a friend’s place across town.”

  Silence. She could hear Wanton breathing on the other end. “Really? Because I could come by.”

  Samantha narrowed her eyes. Wasn’t he hearing her? Was he expecting her simply to sit and wait for him? Or to throw everything she had in her hands to be ready for him to stop by?

  “I’m not…I can’t.”

  Another silence.

  “Where are you? I can pick you up.”

  Samantha heard steps coming up behind her and saw Nat approaching. Her eyes were worried. Sam signaled for her to be quiet as she looked like she was about to speak.

  “I can’t do that. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, you’re sorry, are you?” he sounded agitated now. She could hear he was smoking a cigarette and knew exactly how aggressively he was blowing out smoke.

  Her eyes met Nat’s. “Yes, I’m…I can’t do this. I’m visiting a friend.”

  “Really? I think you should come back now.”

  The way he said now made Sam jump. In the beginning, she had been flattered by his attention, the stolen glances, the warm smiles, but now?

  It was beginning to take a turn she wasn’t comfortable with.

  “Listen, I told you I’m at a friend’s place, and I can’t just…”

  Click.

  The line went dead.

  “Hello?”

  Samantha stared at the phone, her cheeks blushing. Nat approached her, her head slightly tilted, a deep furrow growing between her eyebrows.

  “Who was that?”

  Samantha took in a deep breath to calm herself. Her hand holding the phone was trembling. She pressed back tears and looked at her friend.

  “It was no one. Just some work. They wanted me to come in, but…”

  Nat placed a hand on her arm. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  Samantha sniffled, then shook her head. “No. Not at all. I got it under control.”

  “Are you sure? Look at me, Sam. You can tell me if you’re in trouble.”

  She lifted her gaze and looked into her friend’s eyes, then nodded. “I’m positive. It’s nothing.”

  Chapter 46

  “Stop sulking.”

  Kimmie groaned and rolled her eyes at her son. Tristan grumbled something and followed her back inside while the girl living next door, Haley, left. Kimmie saw how her son looked after her as she walked across the lawn back to her home, and she felt awful. It was the first time she had seen her son in love, and he wasn’t even able to be with her. It broke her heart.

  Kimmie hated herself for putting him in this situation.

  “It’s for our own good; you know this.”

  She closed the door behind him, and they went back inside where the two FBI agents were sitting by the door. The big guy to the left was the one who had told her to get her son back inside. He risked being seen. Kimmie had asked him who the heck would see Tristan all the way out in the boonies and recognize him? But there was no way to make them bend the rules.

  “I know. I know,” Tristan said and threw himself on the old brown leather couch with a deep sigh. “They tried to kill us, and if they know you’re still alive, they might try again. I know. It’s just…so…”

  She sat next to him, wincing in pain as she did. The wound in her chest where she was shot still hurt, and she became easily very tired during the day.

  Kimmie placed a hand on his knee. “I know, sweetie. This isn’t my choice either. You know this.”

  Tristan looked at her. “I know you’re doing something big and important, Mom. And I am proud of you for standing up to someone like Wanton and testifying against him. I really am. I just wish that it would be over soon, so we could have a life again.”

  Kimmie felt herself tear up. It was the first time Tristan had acknowledged what she was doing and told her he was proud of her. That was a big deal for her.

  “I know, son, and we will. But we must be patient.” She paused to swallow the knot in her throat. She had felt so guilty for so long about what she was doing; it had been painful. She hated that she had destroyed Tristan’s life by doing this. She loathed the fact that he was hurt. Hearing him say those words hit her hard.

  “So…that girl…you really like her, huh?”

  He shrugged. “I guess. She’s okay.”

  Kimmie chuckled. “I’ve seen you with her. And I’ve seen the way she looks at you. A mother notices little things like that.”

  He smiled, then rolled his eyes. “Mo-om, you’re so cringy right now. You have no idea; I can’t even…”

  She shrugged. “Well, I’m a mother. I’m supposed to be.”

  Kimmie smiled and looked at her handsome son. She had noticed him sneaking out late at night, crawling out the bedroom window, and knew he went to see Haley but pretended like she didn’t know the next morning. She wanted him to have a life, at least as much as possible with their situation. And she really didn’t see any harm in him meeting with this girl out in the country. It wasn’t like anyone would know who he was out here. Besides, it was Kimmie they were looking for, and if she stayed inside, then she’d be good. Plus, they all thought she was dead. The FBI had arranged it this way to keep her safe.

  Who would go looking for a dead woman anyway?

  Chapter 47

  “She’s alive? Kimmie’s alive?”

  I was almost screaming the words inside my rental car. I had run back to it and got in, barely breathing after seeing her.

  Isabella had lied to me? She had told me Kimmie died? She had let me believe that Kimmie died on my watch, that I had failed her!

  “I’m gonna kill her,” I screamed out in the car. I grabbed for my phone in my pocket, then found her number and pressed call.

  No answer.

  I tried again, but still, she didn’t pick up.

  “Because you don’t want to talk to me,” I yelled at the phone, “I wouldn’t talk to me either if I were you. But you can’t avoid me forever, and then I’ll tell you what I think about you. Boy, am I gonna let you know.”

  I threw the phone on the passenger seat with an annoyed groan. I slammed my hands into the steering wheel over and over again, imagining it was Isabella. I couldn’t believe she’d do this to me. She knew how much I suffered. She knew how badly I took Kimmie’s death.

  And she’d been alive all this time
?

  “Oh, I am gonna kill you, Isabella. I’m gonna…”

  I grabbed my soda and drank from it, but it had gone flat, so it tasted awful. I put it back down, checked my phone again, texted Isabella to call me asap, and put it away. I closed my eyes, rubbed them, annoyed, then wondered what to do next.

  There really wasn’t anything more for me to do here, was there? I had found out who Tristan was with. I knew he was with his mother, protected by the FBI. They had probably decided to fake her death so Wanton’s people wouldn’t look for her anymore, to protect both of them. It was a smart enough move, one I would have made too had it been up to me.

  Except I would have told myself the truth and not lied. It puzzled me that Isabella didn’t think she could trust me enough to tell me. It didn’t make much sense to me right at this moment.

  We had known each other for years. She knew me better than most. Plus, she trusted me enough to pull me in to help on the case when Kimmie asked for me. They wanted me to interview Kimmie. Why didn’t they want me to know she was alive?

  It didn’t make sense to me. And I didn’t like it. Something wasn’t right about this, even though I couldn’t put my finger on precisely what it was that mystified me.

  I started the car back up, thinking if I got back to the airport, I could maybe catch a late flight out and be home by midnight with a little luck. Or perhaps I could find a small hotel, stay there the night, and then fly out in the morning. I let the car roll down the street, then turned right at the intersection and drove onto a wider road when a silver-gray car passed me on the way, and for some reason, I got a glimpse of the driver.

  He didn’t see me, but I most certainly saw him.

  And his red New York Yankees baseball cap.

  Chapter 48

  It can’t be!

  I stared at the silver-gray car in the rearview mirror as it disappeared down the road. My heart was throbbing violently in my chest as I watched it take the turn, driving back where I had just come from. I could barely breathe.