Secrets of Redemption Box Set

by Michele Pariza Wacek

  She gave me a funny look. “We can’t go inside. The police are still investigating.”

  “But I saw you in the house.”

  She looked at me incredulously. “No, you didn’t. I’ve been staying at my friend Gina’s.” She pointed to a pale-yellow house across the street. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What are you saying?”

  “I ...” What WAS I saying? All I saw was a curtain flutter in an upstairs window. And for that matter, could I even be sure I actually saw anything? I shook my head and tried to smile. “Never mind. I was probably just seeing things.”

  If anything, Barbara looked even more distrustful. “What did you see?”

  “Just ... look, I thought I saw a curtain flutter in the upstairs window. That’s all. I’m sure it was nothing.”

  She tried awkwardly to scramble to her feet. “Someone is in the house? What is going on? Who is in the house?”

  I put my hands out to placate her, but she shied away from me. “I don’t know if there’s anyone in the house. I might not have seen anything at all.”

  “Barb!” Another woman, her hair in tight grey curls, hurried across the street, waving her arms. She also wore a sweat suit, except hers was bright yellow, and it wasn’t stained. “Are you okay, Barb? I called the police.”

  “Wait. The police?” I stood up, holding my hands out in supplication. “There’s no reason to call the police.”

  Barb had managed to heave herself to her feet as she leaned against the banister, panting heavily and continuing to glare at me. “I’m okay, Gina. But someone is in the house.”

  “Someone is in the house?” Gina came closer and I was able to get a better look at her features. There was something familiar about her. “Who?”

  Barb pointed her chin at me. “She said she saw someone.”

  “No, I didn’t see someone,” I corrected. “I thought I saw a curtain move.”

  Gina peered at me from behind her wire-framed glasses. “You’re Charlie’s niece.” Her voice dripped with accusation and my heart sank as I finally recognized her. She was one of the women who had glared at me at Aunt May’s Diner when I first moved to town. I think she was wearing a yellow pantsuit then, too.

  Barb’s mouth dropped open. “You’re THAT Becca?”

  Coming here was clearly a big mistake. I started trying to back away from the porch. “Maybe I should go.” Unfortunately, Gina was blocking the route to my car.

  “You’re trying to cause trouble, aren’t you?” Gina shook her cell phone at me. “You and Charlie. A couple of troublemakers.”

  “No, I was trying to help ...”

  “Help,” Gina spat. “Your definition of ‘helping’ is the same as Charlie’s. It’s all about hurting good, decent people.”

  Barb took a step forward. “How did you even know I was here? You didn’t answer me.”

  “I ...”

  “And why were you with my mother anyway?” Barb demanded, not letting me finish my sentence.

  Gina’s eyes widened. “That was you? What did you do to Pat?”

  What did I get myself into? I had to get out of here. Maybe I could circle around and reach my car that way. I was a lot younger than both Gina and Barb, and I was guessing faster. With a little luck, I should be able to get out without making any more of a scene.

  Right then a police car swerved onto the street. A part of me sagged with relief while another tightened with anxiety. I was the last person to see Pat alive. Would the cops believe I was here because I too was trying to get to the bottom of what happened to Pat? Or would they see this as a sign of guilt?

  The cruiser parked on the side of the street and Daniel got out. Inwardly, I groaned. This couldn’t be good. Daniel was already suspicious of me—I couldn’t imagine this little incident would do anything but further convince him of my guilt.

  “Officer!” Both Gina and Barb descended on him like starving vultures. “Look who’s here! She must be guilty.”

  “Someone is in the house! We have to check!”

  “She’s always been a problem. Her whole family is a problem.”

  Daniel raised his hands. “One at a time. What’s going on?”

  Gina pointed at me. “There she is! She killed Pat.”

  Daniel squinted at me. “Becca? What are you doing here?”

  “Well, clearly, she’s visiting the scene of the crime,” Gina said before I could open my mouth. “That’s what they always do on Law and Order.”

  “I’d like to hear from Becca,” Daniel said mildly.

  “She said there’s someone in the house,” Barb jumped in.

  “Wait, what?” Daniel took a couple of steps closer, shushing the two women with his hands. “You saw someone in the house?”

  “No, I thought I saw a curtain move on the second floor,” I said. “But it may have been nothing. It was probably nothing.”

  “But maybe it wasn’t nothing,” Barb said. “Maybe the killer is in the house right now!”

  “Or, maybe the killer is right here,” Gina said, looking pointedly at me.

  “I’ll check it out,” Daniel said to Barb as he disentangled himself from both women and headed over to me. “I want to ask Becca a few questions first.” Over his shoulder, I saw Gina smirk at me.

  He took my arm and led me further away. My skin burned where his fingers touched me, and it was all I could do to not shake his hand off.

  He deliberately turned his back on the two nosy women and leaned in closer to me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I ...” Oh man. Now what do I do? Tell him I’ve decided to investigate because of a bad dream and an unlocked back door? If that didn’t sound bad enough, he was so close I could barely concentrate. I could smell the clean, woodsy scent of his soap mixed with his unique masculine scent—and combined with the feel of his warm skin against mine, I was totally distracted. I jerked my arm away, wanting to take back some control. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by and see how the investigation is going.”

  He dropped his hand but stayed just as close to me as before. I gritted my teeth. Was he doing this on purpose? Trying to keep me off balance? I refused to give him the satisfaction of stepping away. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses and his piercing dark-blue eyes looked at me incredulously. “You thought you’d stop by a crime scene? Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Would you have answered my questions with the truth?”

  “Why would you think I wouldn’t?”

  “Because you’re investigating me too, aren’t you?” I said bitterly. “I’m, what’s it called? ‘A person of interest.’ Right?”

  He stared at me, his gaze growing even more intense if that was possible. I shifted my feet, wanting again to take a step back but refusing to show any weakness. “You’re doing your own investigating, aren’t you?” It wasn’t a question.

  I drew my chin up. “So what if I am? No crime in that.”

  He started shaking his head. “Becca, listen to me. Leave the investigation to the professionals. You could do more harm than good.”

  “Oh, like how the ‘professionals,’” I air quoted the phrase, “did such a good job when Jessica disappeared.”

  “That was before my time.”

  “Even so, can you blame me for wanting to look into things myself? You all but accused me of being responsible for Pat’s death when you mentioned how I was the last person to see her alive.”

  “I didn’t ...” He exhaled sharply, his eyes narrowing. Even though he wasn’t touching me, we were standing so close I could feel the energy sparking between us. He has a fiancé I reminded myself. Even if she wasn’t wearing a ring the other day. I wanted to move away from him—I knew I really ought to take a step back—but I didn’t move. It was like I was mesmerized by his intensity. I felt like a mouse hypnotized by a snake coiled and r
eady to pounce. “I never said you were being investigated.”

  “Just because you didn’t say it doesn’t mean I’m not,” I said. “I don’t suppose you’d answer if I asked you point blank.”

  He took a deep breath. “Look, I don’t blame you for wanting to take matters into your own hands but it’s really not a good idea. You could end up making things worse for yourself.”

  “Or I could clear myself.”

  “Can you trust me to take care of this?”

  He stared deeply into my eyes and I realized how much I wanted to trust him. I remembered how he had believed in me when I had barely believed in myself, having swallowed Stefan’s lies about me hook, line and sinker. I remembered being sixteen, sitting in the woods with him, feeling like I was finally understood.

  I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe what I saw in his eyes … that he cared about me and was sincere about helping me.

  But then I remembered how he had stood me up all those years ago.

  I remembered how suspicious he had been when I had stopped to look at Bear’s poster.

  I remembered him asking me where I had been the night Pat died.

  And it was like a bucket of cold water to my face.

  “Do you really want to hear the answer?” I asked.

  It was like a door slammed shut on his face. He straightened, backing away from me. The cop was back.

  “I think I just did,” he said, his voice clipped.

  I, too, took a step back. “Can I go now, Officer?”

  He shrugged. “You’re not under arrest, so you can do what you want.”

  The coldness hurt and I turned away before my face betrayed me. He called me back.

  “Keep in mind that obstructing justice is also a crime. One I take very seriously.”

  “Thanks for the tip,” I muttered and turned to head back to my car. I ignored Barb and Gina, who both immediately started pelting Daniel with questions and accusations. Gina, in particular, seemed to take it as a personal affront that I was leaving on my own accord, unhandcuffed.

  I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, my only thought being to get as far away as possible.

  Chapter 12

  I needed a place to regroup—preferably somewhere I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew. That meant Aunt May’s and The Tipsy Cow were out.

  Instead I went to Mario’s, a cute Italian restaurant on the outskirts of town. While there were no guarantees in a town the size of Redemption, this place felt safe. As I surveyed the red and white checkered tablecloths, the fat, wax-covered bottle centerpieces that held candles and the matching red curtains, I felt like a could finally breathe again. The unbearably tight pressure in my chest had finally eased.

  As it was too late for lunch and too early for dinner, there were only a handful of people scattered around various tables. At my request, the hostess seated me in a booth near the back.

  I ordered Fettuccine Alfredo. I was craving comfort food, and nothing was more comforting than pasta, butter, cream and cheese. I also ordered an iced tea, although I briefly considered a glass of wine. I knew that would be a bad idea as I was already operating on a serious lack of sleep and I wanted to keep a clear head as I went through my notes.

  Once the waitress left I pulled out my notebook and jotted down everything that had happened at Pat’s while it was still fresh in my mind. I was determined to do this right and I knew I couldn’t completely trust my traitorous memory. It had already failed me on more than one occasion, and I couldn’t rule out the possibility that I would wake up one morning with another black hole in my mind in place of a memory.

  When I got to the part about seeing the curtain fluttering I paused. Did I really see it move? I honestly didn’t know anymore. At this point it sure seemed like a figment of my imagination.

  But something had drawn my eye. Something had moved, I was sure of it now. And, when I had turned to scan the house, I saw the curtain shimmer and fall back like someone had released it to avoid being seen.

  And it had worked—I hadn’t seen anything.

  But I had been seen.

  The person behind the curtain had seen me.

  I shivered.

  Who could be in the house? Pat’s killer? But why? The whole thing seemed preposterous, like the stuff of a Lifetime movie.

  The devil got him.

  There was no such thing as the devil.

  Of course, until a few weeks ago, I didn’t believe in ghosts either.

  Suddenly that glass of wine seemed like a really good idea.

  ***

  I rubbed my suddenly sweaty hands on my jean shorts before pushing open the doors to the car dealership Barry’s father owned.

  As luck would have it, Mario’s was only a few blocks away from the dealership, which seemed like a clear sign to talk to Barry next.

  Inside, amongst all the understated elegance—rich, dark blue carpeting, potted plants, black leather chairs and unobtrusive music, the receptionist sat waiting to assist. She pointed out Barry’s office while letting me know I was in luck—he was not only in, but he could see me right away.

  “Becca! Are you looking for a new car? I’ve got some great deals I can show you,” he winked at me as he closed the door and offered me the chair in front of his desk. “And, of course, you’ll qualify for the ‘friends-and-family discount’.”

  I couldn’t help but smile even though my insides were all knotted up. Barry’s enthusiasm was infectious.

  “Actually, this is more of a ... personal matter.”

  Barry’s eyebrows went up. “Oh? Do tell.” He settled himself behind his desk.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind? I know you’re working.”

  He wagged his eyebrows at me. “Are you kidding me? Besides, I have a pretty good relationship with the boss. I should be fine.” He scooted closer to his desk, leaning in to whisper in a conspiratorial manner. “So, spill it. What’s the dirt?”

  “I ...” Oh no. I suddenly realized I hadn’t thought this through. How was I supposed to ask him about the night Jessica disappeared without telling him I had lost my memory of that night? Then again, maybe now that I had told Daniel it didn’t matter anymore. Come to think about it, Barry might even already know. Rumor traveled fast, in Redemption.

  “I wanted to ask you about the night Jessica disappeared.”

  Barry’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why do you want to talk about that?” While his voice still sounded friendly, his whole demeanor had shifted—he was instantly guarded.

  I sighed. It was now or never. “I actually don’t remember that night. I lost my memory.” I watched him closely for a reaction but he just seemed puzzled.

  “Really? Even now? I mean, you were pretty messed up at the time so it wouldn’t surprise me if you didn’t remember right away but it’s been years.”

  “Yeah, I know. The doctors said that can happen sometimes.”

  Barry sighed. “This is because of Rich, isn’t it?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Because Rich was such an ass the other day. That’s why you’re asking now. Am I right?”

  Rich being an ass was a much better reason than nightmares about dead people. I gave him a small smile. “Well, that may have had something to do with it.”

  He shook his head. “Just ignore him. He’ll get over it. I’ll talk to him.”

  I hesitated. Did that mean he was finished with the conversation? “Thanks. I do appreciate that. It would be nice if Rich wasn’t so angry.”

  “Leave it to me. So, is there anything else I can help you with? Are you sure you don’t want to take a quick peek at a car while you’re here?” He grinned at me.

  “Well, I would still like to try and remember,” I said carefully. “That night … well, I jus
t think it’s time for some closure. Do you mind telling me what you recall?”

  Barry’s grin disappeared. He straightened, running his hand down his blue-and-black striped tie, his gaze no longer meeting mine. His pressed, white short-sleeved shirt made his hair look even more red in contrast. “Honestly, I don’t know how much of a help I can be. I really don’t remember much from that night either.”

  Although he sounded sincere, he refused to meet my eyes. What was he hiding?

  “Well, what do you remember? Let’s start there.”

  He picked up a pen from his desk and started to fiddle with it. “I remember it seemed like a pretty normal party. Until you collapsed. THAT was pretty memorable.”

  I found myself almost chuckling. “Well, when you put it that way.”

  “You do have a way of turning the unremarkable into the unforgettable.”

  Surprised, I made a face at him. “What the hell are you talking about? I don’t do that.”

  “Right. Like that time you swore you had never played poker and then proceeded to take all our money?”

  Oh man. I had forgotten about that. “Beginner’s luck.”

  “Or that time you talked all of us into sneaking into that dance club in Milwaukee, and Mia got caught, but you somehow managed to talk the bouncer out of tossing her out.”

  “Like it was difficult talking all of you into that,” I retorted. “As for the bouncer, I just promised him I’d put in a good word for him with Jessica.”

  He laughed. “You New York girls.”

  “Well, I never,” I said in mock exasperation. He grinned at me, and although a part of me was having fun, another part of me was starting to get the feeling that he was trying to distract me. But why?

  “Anyway, so back to that night. What about Jessica? I heard she was upset.”

  He rolled his eyes. “When was Jessica not upset? Like I said, a normal party.”

  “Jessica was often upset?”

  Barry shot me a look. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember that either?” He sighed. “Look, Jessica was my friend, too. I liked her. But she was definitely high-maintenance. I can’t say that’s any surprise—girls who are 10’s like that usually are. Along with lots of girls from New York, too.” He gave me a sly look.