Secrets of Redemption Box Set

by Michele Pariza Wacek

  “I told you, I don’t eat gluten-free anymore.”

  I caught up to her in the hallway. “Well, I can make something else then.”

  She shifted her backpack from one shoulder to the other, while lowering her head to avoid my eyes. She had the same clothes on as the day before—a wrinkled blue tee shirt and jean shorts. Her hair hung in a tangled mass around her face, clearly uncombed. “It’s okay. I gotta go.”

  “How are you leaving? Who is picking you up?”

  “Margot.” I heard a horn beep outside. “She’s here.”

  “But ...” I tried to protest, but Chrissy was already heading out the door. “Okay, bye, I guess.”

  Chrissy didn’t look back at me but waved haphazardly as she let the screen door slam shut.

  I started to head back into the kitchen, and my coffee, when I heard the door open again. Eagerly, I turned, hoping it was Chrissy. I wanted to have a more satisfying conversation with her, but instead, I watched CB ease his way inside.

  “There’s coffee,” I said, heading back to the kitchen.

  “Breakfast too?” CB asked. I sat at the table while he rummaged around the counter for a mug.

  “Sure, whatever you want to make.”

  CB looked around as he poured coffee. “What? You couldn’t be bothered to feed Chrissy before she left or something?”

  “She left before I could feed her.” I propped up my head with my hand and sighed.

  CB clucked sympathetically. “Guess girl’s night was a bust.”

  “You could say that,” I said glumly. “I’m going to be oh for two here on girl’s nights.”

  CB cocked his head. “How so?”

  “I was supposed to go out with Daphne and Mia for another girl’s night tonight, but with you here, I’ll have to cancel.”

  CB looked aghast. “Don’t cancel. I’ll come, too.”

  I stared at him. “You? What part of ‘girl’s night’ aren’t you understanding?”

  He waved his hand. “Details. Besides, I can be just as much a girl as you.”

  I laughed. “Okay, let me call Daphne. Did you see any of the old gang last night?”

  He shook his head. “See? Another reason for me to join you. How would it look if I went back to New York without seeing anyone?”

  I held my hands up. “Okay, okay. You win. Other than the fact that you didn’t see our friends, how was your night?”

  CB mimicked locking his lips with a key. “You know I’m never one to kiss and tell.” He smiled, but I could see the circles under his eyes and the puffiness in his face. It didn’t look like he had slept much more than I had, but I had little doubt he had had a much better time.

  “As fun as this has been, I’m getting hungry. My plan was to make gluten-free pancakes. Want some?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Mind if I jump in the shower while you’re cooking?”

  “Go ahead,” I said, rising to my feet as he carried his coffee out of the room.

  I found my phone and called Daphne while mixing the batter. She was all about me bringing CB. “Everyone would love to see him,” she gushed.

  I still wasn’t convinced CB was all that interested in seeing everyone else—he had chosen not to come back after he turned eighteen. Not even to visit Aunt Charlie when she had gotten sick. And unlike me, I was pretty sure his memory was intact. But, whatever.

  We agreed on a time and location to meet and then I went back to my pancakes, already excited to see everyone that night.

  Well, everyone but Daniel and Gwyn. With any luck, I wouldn’t run into them.

  I decided to stay positive. I was definitely due for some good luck. Right?

  Chapter 4

  “No effin’ way. I was sure you were dead,” Barry said, dramatically putting his hand to his heart.

  “Dead? Oh please,” CB rolled his eyes. “Just because I’m too fabulous for you doesn’t mean I’m dead.”

  Barry—the classic redhead, freckles dotting his pale face—grinned and shook CB’s hand.

  I sipped my wine and glanced nervously around the bar. Daphne had said it’d be just ‘us girls, plus CB,’ but along with Mia, Daphne, and Celia; Rich, Janey, and now Barry had joined us.

  In other words, the whole gang. Minus Daniel and Gwyn.

  Please don’t let them show up, I found myself silently praying. Just a little while longer. That’s all I’m asking.

  “Here we thought you forgot all about us,” Barry said. “Just like your cousin there,” he nodded at me and I shifted uncomfortably, feeling a quick dart of shame. I still hadn’t forgiven myself for not making an effort to come back, or even reach out, these past fifteen years.

  Barry continued. “You go back to New York and forget all about the middle of the country.”

  “What middle?’ CB shrugged. “Aren’t New York and LA all there is?”

  “Don’t forget Chicago,” I piped in. “If you need a layover.”

  Barry groaned. “Now there’s a city I’d like to forget. Bunch of FIBS.” “FIBS” stood for “Frickin’ Illinois Bastards”–something tossed around a lot in these parts, especially in the middle of summer during tourist season, when everyone in Redemption contended with Chicago drivers.

  “FIBS are people too,” Mia said, narrowing her almond-shaped, liquid-brown eyes at Barry. “They deserve our compassion. It’s not their fault they’re stuck rooting for the Bears and the Cubs and all their other bad sports teams.” She gestured with her wine glass, the movement making her short, bobbed black hair swing around her face.

  CB gave a dramatic sigh. “Well, it’s difficult when you don’t have decent options to root for,” he said.

  “Oh, like the Jets? And the Giants?” Barry asked.

  I wasn’t sure if CB had ever watched a football game in his life. “I was thinking the Yankees,” I said smugly.

  “You want to get kicked out of this bar?” Barry asked.

  “Now, Becca, that’s not very nice,” CB said. “We shouldn’t be torturing the less fortunate.” He winked at me as Barry sputtered into his beer. “And speaking of fans of bad sports teams, we’re missing someone.” He made a point of looking around the table.

  “You really want Daniel in on this conversation? You know you’ll be outnumbered,” Barry said, gesturing for the waitress. “Oh, speak of the devil, here he comes.”

  Inwardly, I groaned. Great. Just great.

  Although, to be honest, I should have expected it. This was a small town. How long did I think I could avoid Daniel? Or his fiancé? Maybe I should focus my energy on feeling happy for Daniel for finding love with Gwyn. That would be a healthier reaction.

  I caught a glimpse of Gwyn smiling as she brushed her white-blonde, perfectly-styled asymmetrical bob from her eyes. Her smile lit up her pixie face, and she looked like a fairy princess.

  I dropped my eyes to my wine glass. Yes, it would definitely be healthier to wish them well, but not today.

  “Fashionably late, Officer,” CB said, as Daniel and Gwyn squeezed into the corner booth. “I was beginning to think you didn’t want to see me.”

  Daniel wore a navy blue, short-sleeved, button-down shirt. As always, he looked great—blue brought out the color in his eyes. His dark blonde hair curled around his collar, emphasizing his strong jaw and chiseled cheek bones. He gave CB a tight smile, before nodding to the rest of the group, his gaze sliding off of me almost as quickly as it landed. Like I didn’t even exist.

  Well. If he’s going to be that way about it, who needs him? I tossed back the rest of my wine and told myself I didn’t care.

  The waitress brought fresh glasses just then, and set down a pitcher of beer, too. I seized my new glass, knowing already that it was definitely going to come in handy.

  “Long night,” Daniel said, pouring a glass of beer. “I was on call.”<
br />
  “The Peeping Tom?” Mia asked sympathetically.

  Barry’s ears perked. “Peeping Tom? Daniel, are you holding out on us?”

  CB clucked his tongue. “And this used to be such a nice town.”

  Daniel shot CB an unreadable look, and it suddenly popped into my head how Daniel hadn’t seemed all that fond of CB when we were kids. Now that I thought about it, the feeling seemed mutual.

  I wondered why.

  “We got a few complaints about someone looking in a window,” Daniel said.

  “A few?’ Daphne asked. “How many are we talking?”

  Daniel drank his beer. “Hard to say.”

  “Hard to say? Are you kidding me?” Celia asked, her voice sounding a bit shrill. She had very dark-brown eyes, very dark, almost-black hair, and a sharp, pointed face like a fox. As usual, she had covered herself with cheap make-up and jewelry. “How can you not know?”

  Barry opened his eyes wide, feigning horror. “Are you saying that Redemption has been taken over by hordes of Peeping Toms? Whatever will we do?”

  Celia punched her husband in the bicep. Barry winced and rubbed his arm. “I’m serious. Daniel,” Celia said. “Is this something we should be worried about?”

  Unbidden, the image of the footprint just under my kitchen window rose up in my mind. I shivered as I tried to force it back.

  Barry noticed. “See, you’re frightening the newcomers.” He nodded in my direction.

  “No one should be worried,” Daniel said, setting his beer firmly down on the table. “Should you be vigilant? Absolutely, but I believe you should always be vigilant. We’re pretty early in the investigation process, but I certainly wouldn’t lose any sleep over this.”

  “It’s probably just a bunch of kids playing a practical joke,” Mia said.

  Celia pressed her lips together and stared down into her Cosmo. I could almost hear her thoughts—I hate this town.

  “Speaking of kids,” CB said. “Did you ask?” He directed his question to me, staring at me meaningfully.

  Of course, he was talking about Brittany. I was just as curious as he was, but I wasn’t sure this was the best time to bring it up. My plan had been to wait until I had a moment alone with Daphne, but that hadn’t happened yet.

  “Ask what?” Mia asked.

  I frowned at CB. “Do you guys know a Brittany? I don’t know her last name.”

  “Brittany Nelson,” Mia said immediately. “Yes, of course. I think we all know her. What about her?”

  I swallowed and glared at CB. God, I really didn’t want to bring up Jessica right now, knowing all the accompanying hard feelings. CB, you always do this to me. “Is she related to … Jessica?”

  Mia’s face seemed to close down. I wished I was closer to CB, so I could kick him under the table. Next to me, Daphne answered. “She’s Jessica’s niece.”

  “Niece? She seems a little old to be her niece.”

  “You probably never met Jessica’s sister. She’s ten years older than us. Brittany was a baby when Jessica disappeared.”

  “Ah,” I said. I shot another look at CB. Are you happy? CB simply smiled back.

  Just so typical of CB. Doesn’t ever think about how his actions impact other people.

  Celia was looking around the table with a bewildered expression on her face. “I don’t understand. Why does it matter if Jessica is related to Brittany?”

  “Because Brittany looks just like Jessica,” Mia said.

  Everyone fell silent. A woman next to us burst into hysterical, high-pitched laughter. Another table over, a group of college-aged guys started chanting as one of their friends, wearing a Wisconsin Badgers cap, guzzled a pitcher of beer. Glasses clanked as they were plunked onto tables.

  “Not this again,” Celia breathed out, picking up her Cosmo and draining it.

  “What do you mean, ‘not this again’?” Mia asked, her voice quiet, but with a dangerous edge.

  Barry put a hand on Celia’s arm. “Nothing. She means nothing.” He glared at his wife. Celia kept her mouth shut, but her sour expression spoke volumes.

  “Barry, let her talk,” Mia said. “What do you mean, ‘not this again’?”

  “You know what I mean,” Celia said. “It’s been fifteen years. It’s time to let it go.”

  “Let it go?” Mia said, her voice sounding even more quiet and dangerous. “Let it go? Our friend disappeared! And we don’t know what happened to her!”

  “First off, I’m sure Jessica left on her own. Her stuff was gone ...”

  “But it wasn’t the right ...” Mia tried to interrupt, but Celia kept going.

  “And even if something did happen, she’s gone. Gone!” Celia leaned forward. “I know this is difficult for you to hear, but you’re not going to heal unless you, all of you …” here she looked around the table, “… accept it. She’s gone. She’s been gone for fifteen years. She’s not coming back. And no amount of rehashing or talking about it is going to change that.”

  “She was our friend,” Mia said. “Don’t you get that? How heartless can you be?”

  “I know she was your friend and I know it’s painful. No, Barry, stop it. Let me talk. This isn’t healthy. It’s not healthy to live in the past and that’s precisely what everyone here is doing. Someone has to speak the truth and I guess that has to be me. I didn’t know Jessica but I very much doubt she would want all of you still obsessing over what happened to her fifteen years later. Besides, this has all gotten worse since she,” she nodded toward me, “came back. We don’t need to keep living in the past. Jessica is gone.”

  “I agree,” Rich said, his deep voice cutting across the table. His voice was quiet, but there was something about it that caused everyone to pay attention. Maybe it was because he so seldom talked that when he finally did, people took notice. “If we’re not going to be honest about what happened that night, then it makes no sense to keep talking about it.”

  “What aren’t we being honest about?” Mia asked.

  Rich stared at me, his dark eyes glittering. “If we’re honest, we know exactly who to blame for that night.”

  Did he mean me? I stared at Rich, dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

  His gaze didn’t flinch. “You know exactly what I mean.”

  You were the last person to see Jessica that night. Daniel and Daphne had both told me that. With the loss of my memory, I had no way of verifying what they said, but even if it were true it didn’t mean anything.

  So why was Rich glaring at me? He couldn’t possibly be suggesting I had anything to do with Jessica’s disappearance.

  Could he?

  “Rich, what are you talking about?” Mia asked, clearly befuddled and trying to defuse the tension. Even Celia seemed a little taken aback at the conversation turn. Rich opened his mouth but seemed to rethink what he wanted to say. “I have to go.”

  “What?” Mia asked, as he started working his way out of the booth. “Why?”

  “Hey man,” Barry said. “No one wants you to leave.”

  Rich paused and stared at me, his gaze hostile. “I think it would be better if I did.”

  He slid out of the booth, his puzzled girlfriend Janey following after him. “Rich, wait,” Daniel said. “Let me walk you out.” Rich barely glanced at Daniel as he threw a few bills on the table before heading for the exit.

  The rest of us looked uncomfortably at each other. “Nice going Celia,” Mia finally said, breaking the silence.

  Celia looked startled. “Me? What did I do?”

  Mia leaned forward. “What you always do—refuse to acknowledge that there are questions, big questions, about Jessica’s disappearance.”

  “Is that what you think?”

  “Easy now,” Barry said. “Let’s have another round.” He gestured to the waitress.

  Daniel
appeared a few minutes later, looking subdued. Gwyn looked at him questioningly, but he shook his head.

  The evening was ruined for me. I brooded into my wine, still feeling the hostility of Rich’s gaze. What on earth did I do to deserve that? I racked my brain. Had I done something to him that summer when I was sixteen? Something I couldn’t remember? Rich had always been the quiet one, the one in the background. Daniel had been the rebel, and Barry, the life of the party, always cracking jokes and the center of attention. I could barely remember talking to Rich fifteen years ago, much less saying something that would warrant this much anger all these years later.

  But Rich was only part of why I wanted to leave. I was also sick of watching the polished and perfect Gwyn reach out to stroke Daniel’s arm or nudge him in that intimate-couple way.

  Eventually, I was sure it would stop bothering me. Eventually.

  But not tonight.

  I caught CB’s eye, and flicked my head toward the door. He nodded slightly and picked up his mostly full drink.

  Inwardly, I sighed. But I also realized it probably wouldn’t take him that long to finish and waiting for him was better than going home alone.

  In the meantime, I decided to escape to the bathroom. I took one last swallow of wine and made my way out of the booth.

  A couple of women exited as I walked in, talking and laughing loudly. It reminded me of the time I had been accosted by Nurse Ellen, in this same bathroom. Oh man, I really hoped history wasn’t going to repeat itself. If I wanted to be the target of people’s ire, I could have just stayed in my seat.

  I was in luck—only one person was in a stall, and she left before I even saw her. I finished up and took a few extra moments to fix my hair—not because I was all that interested in what my hair looked like, but to give myself an excuse to stay in there longer.

  Finally, I pushed open the bathroom door, and there he was—standing there scowling, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. Daniel.

  Déjà vu. Exactly like the last time we were in this bar together.