Where the Blame Lies

Home > Romance > Where the Blame Lies > Page 18
Where the Blame Lies Page 18

by Mia Sheridan


  She was even sadder for her mother than for herself, she found. Sad about the way Diana Stratton had chosen to live her life. Because it did come down to choice, didn’t it? Whether or not her mother had been dealt a terrible hand by life—and Josie could agree she had—she’d continued to hold tight to bitterness, to share her pain with the people she was supposed to love. Like Josie, her child. But Josie didn’t harbor resentment about that anymore. And despite her own poor hand, she’d never turn into her mother. She’d chosen not to let bitterness rule her. She’d never continue the cycle of pain and abuse. Never.

  The front door opened and closed and she turned when Zach entered the kitchen. “Morning,” he said, setting his phone down on the kitchen table.

  She leaned against the sink. “Morning.”

  “How are you?”

  She nodded. “I’m fine.” His eyes moved over her face, as though looking for something he thought might be in her eyes that wasn’t in her voiced answer. She looked away for a moment, taking a sip of coffee. “I think . . . I think I need to call my friends. The ones I was close with during the time I was attacked.” She looked down, not wanting to feel the small trace of shame that still rose within her when she thought back to that time. “The ones I was close with when I was seeing Professor Merrick.” The ones she’d been with that last night in the before. The ones she hadn’t been able to bear seeing in the after when she’d become a completely different person and they’d remained the same. Their lives had continued on a natural orbit, whereas hers had derailed so significantly. Irreversibly. But had theirs remained the same as she had initially thought? Reagan, God, Reagan. Her apartment had been broken into, her roommate had been taken from the bedroom on the opposite wall of hers. How did she live with that? Reagan had been drunk and hadn’t gone home with her. Had Reagan blamed herself for that, she wondered? Maybe their lives hadn’t been as unchanged as she’d thought.

  She brought her eyes up and Zach was studying her, a small frown creasing his brow. “You don’t have to, Josie. If you have questions you think they might be able to answer, I can interview them. Or Jimmy will.”

  She shook her head and turned, placing her empty mug in the sink. “No. I . . . I owe it to them, Zach. They tried to reach out to me so many times and I ignored their efforts. They might not remember anything that will be helpful as far as the recent abductions . . . murders. But maybe they knew something about the professor that I didn’t. Reagan was in his class with me. Even if it doesn’t amount to anything, I have to try.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. It’s something I can do.” She felt so helpless, so scared and confused, and calling her old friends was not only long overdue, it was a way she could assist in the case unfolding in horrifying ways right before her eyes.

  He was silent another moment before he nodded. “Call them.”

  Josie went to get her phone. She hoped their numbers were still the same. She hoped they were willing to talk to her.

  She hoped they could find it in their hearts to forgive her.

  **********

  Josie removed the sheet of cookies from her oven, setting it on the stovetop and inhaling the sweet scent of melted chocolate chips. She heard footsteps behind her as she began to scoop the cookies onto a plate. “You good?” he asked.

  She turned, handing him a warm cookie with a smile. He took it, taking a big bite. “Goth that’s gooth,” he said around a mouthful.

  Josie laughed, turning back toward the stove and using the spatula to place another cookie onto the plate. Zach took a few steps to the counter and leaned against it, facing her. Josie nodded, answering the question he’d asked a few moments before. “Yeah. I’m good.” She was nervous, but excited too. Both Cooper and Reagan had sounded so happy to hear from her and agreed immediately to come over. Thankfully it was Sunday and neither one had plans. Or if they had, they’d cancelled them for her.

  A vehicle sounded in the driveway and Josie turned, running her hands down her hips. Zach gave her an encouraging nod as she walked toward the front door and pulled it open. She stepped onto the porch and stood waiting as the man getting out of his car spotted her. Their eyes met across the distance and for a heartbeat neither moved. But then a wide smile spread over Cooper’s face and he began walking toward her. Josie descended the two steps and covered her mouth as her own smile erupted. She rushed toward Cooper and he took her in his arms, hugging her and spinning her around as she laughed.

  “My God,” he said, setting her on her feet and stepping back. “You look good.”

  She grinned, taking him in, his thick head of dark hair, deep brown eyes crinkled slightly at the corners as he smiled back at her. Cooper. My God. He was so beautiful, he almost stopped her breath. “So do you, Cooper. Thank you so much for coming. How are you?”

  “Are you kidding? I was so happy to hear from you after all this time. I’ve . . . thought about you so often, Josie. Wondered how you are. Worried about you . . .” Concern etched itself into his features. Her gaze fluttered to his lips as they turned down. Cooper had always been beautiful. But he’d also always been kind.

  “I’m sorry it took me so long to get in touch,” she said. “I . . . it’s been hard for me.” She took a deep breath, mustered a smile. “But, I’m doing a lot better now.”

  “Good,” he said, his voice soft. He squinted behind her at the farmhouse. “This place looks like a slice of heaven.”

  She looked back at her home, seeing it with new eyes—not ones that saw every repair and fix she still had to tackle, but ones that noticed the true peace of the place, the quiet charm. Or maybe it was that she was seeing it with old eyes for a moment—the ones that had held the golden vision she’d kept highlighted in her mind through the dark, lonely days of her captivity. “It’s getting there.” She smiled. “Come inside,” she said, turning and leading the way.

  Zach stepped into the doorway, one hip leaning on the frame as he watched them approach. He looked so right there, and for a moment Josie’s heart stalled.

  He stepped back so they could enter, and Josie closed the door, pushing the feeling that had just swept over her aside. “Cooper Hart, this is Zach Copeland. He’s a detective for the Cincinnati Police Department. He’s working on the cases we talked about on the phone, the ones that involve me and . . . Marshall Landish.”

  Cooper nodded, shaking Zach’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” Zach tilted his chin, a strange look on his face as he eyed her good-looking friend. Was that . . . jealousy? She shook the thought off. Surely not. Anyway, Cooper was gay . . . not that Zach knew that.

  They moved into the living room and sat down, Cooper putting his elbows on his knees and leaning toward Josie. He met her eyes, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her. “This must be really hard for you.”

  “It is. But Zach . . . Detective Copeland and his whole department have been wonderful.” She looked at Zach and then looked down shyly for a moment, and when she looked up, Cooper had a small, knowing smile on his face, his eyes slightly narrowed as he glanced at Zach and then at Josie. He winked at her and she blushed, but an awkward laugh bubbled up her throat. God, she really didn’t know how to take friendly teasing anymore, how to be . . . light and . . . casual. Maybe she’d lost the ability completely. She wiped her palms on her jeans, feeling nervous and fidgety despite her happiness at seeing Cooper. “How are you, Cooper?” she asked. “Tell me what’s going on in your life.”

  He sighed, sitting back. “Nothing too exciting. I’ve been in a few relationships recently but they were all short-term.” He gave her a small smile, and then glanced at Zach. “I’ve been working at an architectural firm downtown.”

  “That’s great.” So he’d gotten his degree, the job he wanted. It was another reminder of how she’d remained in one place while everyone else had moved on. But she wasn’t in the mood for a pity party. She was making strides, and now that she’d started, she knew she wouldn’t stop.

  Another car c
ould be heard crunching over gravel in the driveway and Zach stood. “I’ll get it,” he said, glancing at Josie.

  A minute later, Josie heard voices at the door and a second after that, Reagan and a man Josie didn’t know walked into the living room. Josie stood and Reagan let out a small gasp, moving quickly toward her on a small squeal. Josie felt a tidal wave of emotion slam into her as she hugged the woman who had been her best friend. She clung to her, some form of relief gripping her tightly. “Oh my gosh, Reagan,” she said, standing back and wiping a tear from her eye. “You look amazing.” And she did. It hardly seemed as though nine years had passed. She looked like the same bright-eyed college girl she’d been when Josie had met her.

  “So do you. Wow,” Reagan said, wiping her own tears away. She turned, holding out her hand to the man who’d entered the room. Josie wobbled, feeling slightly off balance as she watched him approach. She knew him. How did she know him? “This is my husband, Evan,” Reagan said.

  Evan approached, his eyes darting over her once before he met her gaze. “Hi, Josie.”

  “I know you,” she murmured. “I’ve . . . met you before.”

  Reagan bobbed her head. “I met him in geology class at UC,” she said. “We started dating right before . . .” She cleared her throat, looked away.

  Right before you disappeared.

  She stared at Evan. “Yes,” she murmured. “You were there that night too.”

  Reagan nodded again. “Yes,” she said. “That’s the reason I wanted him here.” She smiled. “I mean, other than for you to meet the man I love.” Her smile grew as she gripped his arm. Josie looked back and forth between them, and then to Cooper who was watching them all closely.

  Why did Josie feel so faint? As though she’d suddenly been shoved back through a time tunnel and she didn’t have a good grasp on the present? “I . . . ah, cookies.” She shook her head to clear her brain, giving them a small, embarrassed smile. “I mean, I made cookies. I’ll—”

  “I’ll grab them,” Zach said. Her eyes met his, locking, and she suddenly felt more grounded. More . . . real. Present.

  “Thank you.” Her muscles relaxed. “Let’s sit. Thank you all again, so much, for being here.”

  Reagan and her husband, Evan, sat on the couch and Reagan smiled at Cooper. “Hey, Coop.”

  “Reagan. Evan.”

  Josie sat back. “Have you two seen each other much over the years?” she asked.

  Cooper shook his head. “Not enough.” He shrugged. “Life, you know.”

  Josie nodded. “Yes.” Zach put the plate of cookies in the middle of the table. “I know you guys reached out to me in the beginning, and I want to let you know how much I appreciate it.” Tears burned the backs of her eyes. “I just wasn’t in a place to reach back. And I hope . . . I hope you can forgive me.”

  “Oh, Josie,” Reagan said, standing and taking the few steps to her, leaning over and hugging her. “There’s nothing to apologize for.” She stood back, taking her hand and squeezing it before letting go.

  “We’re the ones who should be sorry, Josie,” Cooper said. “We gave up too quickly.”

  Josie shook her head. “No. No. You tried for a long time. Too long considering I gave you no indication I wanted you to keep trying.”

  “We’re just glad you reached out at all, Jos,” Reagan said, sitting back down. Josie felt an unexpected release of tension at the warm forgiveness extended to her. The understanding. It was as if she wasn’t . . . so alone. These people had known her, were from before. It somehow tethered her to both times. Before and after. “And we’re all here now.” She glanced at Cooper who grabbed a cookie and took a bite.

  Josie looked back to Reagan. “Ah, so I told you guys on the phone the reason I hoped you’d be able to come here today. The case . . .”

  They nodded. They’d both seen the news, knew about the copycat. Cooper had told her he’d wanted to call her, but had hesitated in doing so after all the time that had passed. She understood. “The police”—she glanced at Zach—“believe the abductions, both mine and the recent ones, might have something to do with Professor Merrick.”

  Cooper sat back, chewing slowly, and Reagan’s eyes widened. “Professor Merrick?” she whispered.

  Josie nodded. “You do remember him, right?”

  Reagan swallowed. “Of . . . of course.” Reagan glanced at Evan.

  “The guy you were seeing, right?” Cooper asked, glancing at Zach as though he might have just shared a secret Josie hadn’t wanted shared.

  But she nodded quickly. “Yes. The man I had an affair with. The police believe the other two women found murdered had a relationship with him as well.” She looked between all of them. Reagan’s eyes widened as she seemed to still completely. Cooper’s lips parted in surprise. “I’m just wondering if you might be able to think back, remember anything about him that might help.” She shrugged sort of helplessly. “I don’t know, but . . . some small thing might be helpful.”

  She looked first at Cooper, who shook his head slightly as though shaking off the shock. “I didn’t know the guy,” he said. “I only knew his name through you. I knew you were upset about things ending.”

  That wasn’t totally accurate. She’d been upset about finding out he was married, and had a difficult time letting go. She’d latched on to him, her dysfunctional emotions making it hard to walk away. But she nodded anyway. When she looked over at Reagan, Reagan was looking down, her hands fidgeting in her lap. She glanced at Evan again and sighed. “Maybe it doesn’t even matter, but”—she cast her eyes downward again—“after you went missing, we were all beside ourselves. We spent so many hours printing flyers, making calls to news stations, just trying to get the word out and then to keep the story alive.”

  A knot of guilt twisted in Josie’s stomach. They’d done so much for her when she’d disappeared, and she’d repaid them by ignoring their calls when she’d escaped.

  Reagan sighed. “It was an emotional time. Professor Merrick came over a couple of times, asked what he could do to help . . .” She looked up at Josie, her eyes filled with shame. “One night . . . it was late, I’d been crying, he comforted me and . . .”

  “One thing led to another,” Josie finished dully, even as her muscles tensed. She wasn’t angry . . . exactly. Just . . . God, that’s what Reagan had been doing while she sat terrified and alone in a warehouse room?

  Reagan looked up, nodded. “Yes. It only happened once and I . . .” She glanced at Evan again whose expression was blank. “I confessed to Evan. We’d only been seeing each other for a short time then.” She grabbed his hand, squeezed, and he offered her a thin smile. “He forgave me and we moved on. I told Vau . . . Professor Merrick that it wasn’t going to happen again. He stayed away after that. I haven’t seen him since.” She glanced at her husband once more. “In the end, everything that happened, that terrible time, brought Evan and me closer.” She smiled but it seemed shaky.

  Josie let out a long, slow breath, letting go of the bitterness that had gripped her. She’d made bad choices too, hoped for grace. How honorable would it be if she now withheld it from others? Josie glanced around. Cooper had picked up another cookie and had a mouthful, and Zach was looking at Reagan, his expression a mixture of surprise and suspicion. He glanced at Josie, his gaze lingering as though he was wondering how the news that her friend had slept with the man she’d been involved with in the aftermath of her disappearance affected her. Her muscles loosened as she relaxed back in the chair. Emotionally, she was long over Professor Merrick. “He was, probably is, extremely charming when he wants to be,” Josie said.

  “I hope you don’t hate me for it,” Reagan said. “If I could go back . . .” Her eyes filled with tears and again, she glanced at her husband.

  “I could never hate you, Reagan,” Josie said. “And that was a long time ago.” She leaned forward, reaching across the coffee table. Reagan reached back and Josie squeezed her hand. Reagan gave her a grateful smile. “Thank
you for being honest about that.” Josie looked over at Zach. “That might help in some way.”

  They talked for a little while longer, the conversation moving on to less heavy subject matter. She told them about fixing up the farmhouse, and when they asked if she’d met any neighbors, she told them about the woman named Rain, thinking to herself that she was going to make a point to visit her as she’d offered. Friends, she’d been reminded, were a vital part of a full life. Zach disappeared back onto the porch where Josie heard him on the phone again as she caught up with her friends, all of them chuckling at remembered shared jokes. When they got up to leave, Josie’s heart felt lighter, and she was glad she’d reconnected with them. Perhaps they’d do it regularly once life returned to normal for her, whatever that might mean.

  The picture of the farmhouse wavered before her, the grass swaying in the peaceful breeze, Zach stepping out onto the porch, a smile on his face . . . Again, she pushed that thought away.

  At the door, Reagan hugged her tightly, telling her to call her soon, and Evan took her hand in his, offering her what looked like a sincere smile. “Be well, Josie.”

  Reagan gave Cooper a hug too, wishing him well and stepping away. “I hope to see a lot more of you, Reagan,” he said on a smile.

  Cooper stood with Josie, watching Reagan and Evan walk to their car. “Must have been hard for Evan to listen to his wife admit she’d cheated on him to a roomful of people.” He paused, a glint coming in to his eye. “Sort of put him between a rock and a hard place.”

  Josie laughed, her chest warming as she remembered the joke they’d once found amusement in. The reminder of simpler times when she could laugh without the still-present stab of guilt. She wrapped her arms around Cooper. He kissed her on her cheek and then stepped away, the sun glinting off the caramel highlights of his hair as he walked to his car, waved, and drove away.

 

‹ Prev