Secrets of Redemption Box Set

by Michele Pariza Wacek

  I made another face at him, but his words rattled around in my head. It WAS true—Jessica had her moments. I could definitely remember more than a few occasions where she acted like a spoiled brat. Somehow, that part of her personality seemed to have been forgotten since her disappearance.

  “Is that why Rich was fighting with her?”

  He sighed. “Poor Rich. There was no way someone like Jessica was ever going to end up with him. But that didn’t stop him from following her around like a sad puppy.”

  “Is that what they fought about?”

  His expression flattened as his guard went up again. “You’d have to ask him.”

  A non-answer. What wasn’t he telling me? This whole conversation was like pulling teeth. “What about when I collapsed? Were you there?”

  “Of course I was there. We all were.”

  “Do you remember what I was doing before that happened?”

  He screwed up his face. “You were in the woods, I think. I’m not really sure. I wasn’t paying that much attention.”

  “What were you paying attention to?”

  He finally met my eyes, a slight smile on his lips. “Oh, is it my turn for interrogation? Do you think I had something to do with this? Officer, I’m innocent! I swear.”

  On the surface his voice was teasing, but underneath there was an unmistakable thread of coldness. I again found myself wondering what he was hiding.

  “Of course not. But, like I said, I’m asking everyone to tell me what they remember. One of you just might have the detail that unlocks my memory.”

  “I wish I could help but I really don’t remember.”

  Liar. He also didn’t sound very sorry. But it was clear he was done with the conversation.

  ***

  The late-day sun was beginning to set as I pulled into my driveway. I turned the car off and just sat there, staring at my house. The sun rays slanted across it, reminding me of the first glimpse I had of it when we arrived from New York a few weeks ago. Something about it had a sinister feel. The windows had resembled dark eyes … the door, a gaping mouth ...

  I blinked. I was being ridiculous. It was a house, not a monster. Just a house. One I had been living in for a couple of months now. And, setting aside what Stefan and Chrissy did, the house itself hadn’t caused me any problems. Other than those terrible dreams ...

  And the kitchen door being unlocked.

  And the trail of dirt on the floor.

  And the sound of a door closing in the stillness of the house.

  The sun went behind a cloud, temporarily plunging the house into darkness. I sucked in my breath sharply.

  There was no way I was going inside right now.

  Maybe it would help if I found a friend to come over and help me do a thorough search of the house. Maybe then I could put all of this ridiculousness behind me.

  Except, sitting there staring at the house, wondering if someone was inside waiting for me didn’t feel all that ridiculous.

  It felt like it would be smart to have backup while I checked the house. Especially since the longer I sat here, the more vulnerable I felt.

  I was so alone.

  No close neighbors. No one to hear me scream.

  Okay, this line of thought wasn’t getting me anywhere. I had to get myself under control. The chances there was someone waiting for me in the house were pretty small. Practically zero.

  This was my home, not some malevolent force out to get me. It was a place of love and support. At least for the time being.

  Nevertheless, I knew I couldn’t bring myself to step inside quite yet. I got out of the car and headed for the backyard. Maybe I just needed to spend a little time in the garden.

  But the garden made me think of the footprint. I found myself obsessively scanning the ground, seeing if there were any signs that someone else had been here last night.

  There wasn’t much. A few broken twigs, a few bent flowers. Were they new? Or was it something I had done? I racked my brain but I couldn’t remember.

  Of course, this was an exercise in futility. Even if it wasn’t me, an animal could have done that damage. It didn’t mean it was another person skulking around.

  I was about to sit down on the porch swing when I caught a glimpse of movement in Chrissy’s room. I jerked my head around and quickly scanned the second floor. Had I seen the curtains flutter?

  There was no sign of any movement now. Everything was quiet and still.

  I’m imagining things. There’s no one in the house.

  I was losing it. First Pat’s house and now mine. Did I really think there was a rash of people breaking into houses and peeking out of curtains?

  Maybe just one person.

  Despite the heat of the day, I shivered. Either I was losing my mind or there was something more insidious going on.

  Worse, I wasn’t sure which option frightened me more.

  I forced myself to turn toward the porch swing, although the idea of having my back to the house was making my skin crawl, when I caught a whiff of something … something that shouldn’t be there.

  The scent of death.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I turned and slowly scanned the yard. There. By the woods. What was that? I couldn’t tell.

  For a moment, I was back in my dream, following the trail of dead Oscar. No! I had to stop that train of thought. All I wanted to do was get out of there, but something compelled me to move forward to see what it was.

  It wasn’t Oscar. Or Bear, either. It was a rabbit.

  I stared at it, the scent of decay and death in my nose. It had been half-eaten, but enough of it remained to indicate it hadn’t been dead for long.

  The devil got him.

  Nonsense. It was probably a fox. Or a cat. Or some other predator.

  Predator, yes. A fox or a cat, no.

  This was silly. Of course it was an animal. It had been eaten.

  HALF-eaten. A fox or a cat would have finished it off.

  Suddenly, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I couldn’t bear to spend another minute in the yard OR in the house. I whirled around and headed back to my car.

  Chapter 13

  The bartender deposited a glass of white wine in front of me. He was young, so young I actually wondered if he was old enough to drink. He had piercings in his lip and chin, and lanky, light-brown hair that hung in his eyes. A red and black tattoo snaked around one bicep.

  He asked if I wanted to run a tab. Why not? I figured I might be here for a while. I handed over my credit card.

  After seeing the dead rabbit, I had immediately gotten into my car and started driving. Before I did anything, I had to find someone to help me search the house.

  My first stop was Aunt May’s. I had been hoping to find Mia but she was off for the day. I called and left her a message and as I waited for her to get back to me, I ordered a salad to nibble on.

  Mia finally called me back as I was finishing my salad. She was willing to help but said it might be awhile. “I’m helping a friend right now and I’m not sure how long I’ll be. Plus, I’m not even in Redemption. But, if you’re willing to wait until later tonight, I can do it.”

  My heart sank. Who else could I call? I still hadn’t figured out what to do about Daphne, and thus had been avoiding her texts. Who else? Daniel? While there was no question it would be reassuring to have a cop search the house, that just felt too ... strange.

  Instead, I agreed to meet Mia at The Tipsy Cow when she was done.

  I took a sip of my wine and wished I had brought my kindle with me. But that would have meant going into the house, which just wasn’t an option until I had backup.

  I decided to attempt reading my book on my iPhone. Not ideal.

  I had placed myself in the corner of the bar so I was not only facing the
door, but also had a good view of the bar itself. My intention was to be the first person to see Mia when she walked in. The last thing I wanted was to have one of her other friends see her, buy her a drink and suck her into their conversation. I might never leave if that happened.

  I went back to my book, trying to ignore the cigarette smoke that wafted toward me as it mixed with the yeasty scent of beer and a rather strong floral perfume.

  The door to the bar opened and a man wearing a black cowboy hat strode in. He paused and surveyed the bar, like he was searching for someone. His gaze landed on me, his eyes locking on mine. He winked. I hurriedly looked back down to my phone, feeling a flush creep up my cheeks.

  Oh God, I hope he didn’t think I was staring at him because I wanted him to pick me up.

  When I peeked at him again, he was by the bar talking to the bartender. If he had been looking for someone, he hadn’t found him or her yet.

  The place wasn’t packed by any means but there was a decent number of after-hour workers washing away their day with a couple of drinks. A part of me couldn’t help but shudder watching them. That had once been me. And, if I went back to New York and took that job in Randall’s firm, it might be me again. Is that what I really wanted?

  “Can I buy you a drink?” It was the cowboy. Without asking me if I was waiting for someone, he pulled out the bar stool next to mine and sat down.

  “That seat is taken,” I said.

  He made a show of looking around. “Are you sure? I don’t see anyone here.”

  I made a face at him. “I’m waiting for someone.”

  “Well, when he or she shows up, I’ll leave.” The cowboy gave me a lazy smile as his gaze slid over me, causing my stomach to unexpectedly flip flop. It felt like a long time since a man had looked at me like that. “So, about that drink.”

  I gestured to my nearly full glass. “I’m good. Thanks.”

  He nodded. A hunk of dark brown hair fell into his equally dark eyes, the dim lighting and black cowboy hat hiding their true color. With high cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass, a perfectly angled nose and beautifully shaped mouth, he was so good looking he was almost pretty.

  I was instantly on guard.

  Stefan, too, had been one of these pretty boys, so handsome he was almost beautiful. When he set his sights on me, I could hardly believe someone as good looking as him would be interested in me.

  And, as it turned out, he wasn’t.

  I shifted slightly, putting my back to the cowboy, attempting to make it clear with my body language that I was done with the conversation.

  He didn’t get the hint. “Why don’t you tell me about this mysterious person you’re meeting?”

  “It’s not that big of a mystery,” I answered before I could stop myself. Just ignore him and he’ll go away.

  “Boyfriend?”

  “None of your business,” I snapped.

  He nodded. “Ah. Just what I suspected.”

  God, he was infuriating. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  He shrugged, watching me intently over the rim of his beer mug. I tried to ignore him, focusing my attention back on my book instead, but his presence, his energy, hovered over me, demanding my attention. Finally, I looked up and met his gaze.

  “Fine, you win. I’m meeting my boyfriend. Now, can you go somewhere else?” I made a ‘swooshing’ movement with my hands.

  “Liar.”

  “What do you mean, ‘liar’? How do you know?”

  His beautiful mouth curled slightly upward in a self-satisfied smile. “What’s his name?”

  I lifted my chin higher. “None of your business.”

  His eyebrows lifted again. “Oh, we’re back to that game.”

  God, I was bad at this. “Okay, fine. You got me. I’m meeting a friend. But that doesn’t mean I want to talk to you.”

  “But you are.”

  “I am what?”

  “Talking to me.”

  “Not by choice.”

  “Then whose choice is it?”

  I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. This was going nowhere. “Look, I’m not interested. I’m married.” Which was true, unfortunately. Until Stefan signed the divorce papers, I was stuck.

  He glanced down at my hands. “I don’t see a ring.”

  I curled my left hand into a fist, wishing I had left the ring on. “It’s complicated.” I said. I could hear warning bells sounding in the back of my head. Be careful. Don’t trust him.

  Was that a legit warning from my intuition? Or a knee-jerk reaction because of what Stefan had done to me? Suddenly, I was furious with Stefan. Would I ever be able to trust my instincts with a man again? Or was I destined to be alone for the rest of my life? God, I hated him.

  As I sat there fuming, wondering how to answer, I saw Daniel walk through the door. Oh great. Could this night get any worse? I found myself hunching over. Maybe he wouldn’t see me.

  The cowboy did though. “I take it he’s not the friend.” He nodded in the direction of Daniel, who was heading toward the other end of the bar.

  I let my hair fall into my face as I picked up my wine. “It’s really not your concern.”

  “But what if I want it to be?”

  Startled, my head jerked up and I found myself staring into his deep eyes. Somehow, without my knowledge, he had moved closer to me, so close I could smell the spicy scent of his aftershave.

  Despite the sexual energy he radiated, there was something about him that made me uncomfortable—like predator and prey.

  I shifted as far away from him as I could get without falling off my barstool. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you want it to be your concern?

  A smile touched his lips. “Why wouldn’t I want it be my concern?”

  “Well, for one, you barely know me. You don’t even know my name. So, why would you possibly want to take on my concerns?”

  “Maybe I want to get to know you.”

  I snorted and reached for my wine. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daniel leaning against the bar, watching us. Wonderful.

  He raised an eyebrow. “What? You don’t believe me?”

  “Not in the least.”

  “How can I prove it to you? I know,” he snapped his fingers. “Why don’t you start by telling me your name?”

  I almost choked on my wine. “Why are we starting there? What about your name?”

  “Well, because you said I didn’t care because I didn’t know your name. So, prove me wrong. Tell me.”

  Daniel still hadn’t moved. He wore a red shirt that complimented both his blonde hair and the deep blue of his eyes. Dressed like that, he was clearly meeting someone. Gwyn.

  I felt something like a knife twist in my chest. God, I hoped I wasn’t going to have to watch those two together while I waited for Mia.

  “Well?” The cowboy asked, interrupting my thoughts.

  I glanced at him. “Well, what?”

  “You were going to tell me your name.”

  I shook my head. “Nice try. Look, it’s been fun, but really. I’m waiting for my friend, and I’m really not interested.” Mia, where are you? Can you please hurry it up? I thought about texting her again. Anything to get out of this bar.

  The cowboy grinned at me, making my heart skip a beat at the exact same moment every instinct inside me screamed a warning. “Okay.” He slid off the bar stool, moving with a lazy, sexy grace. He took one last swig of beer and sauntered to the door.

  I turned back to my book. Maybe if I focused hard enough on my phone, other people would take the hint and ...

  “Is this seat taken?” Daniel asked, standing next to the barstool the cowboy just vacated.

  Just my luck.

  Chapter 14

  “I’m waiting fo
r someone,” I said, my voice cool. I was still a little miffed at how he treated me earlier in front of Pat’s house, and I didn’t feel like enduring a repeat performance.

  He grinned. “Want some company while you wait?”

  Why was he being so nice? I was even more suspicious.

  “That depends,” I said.

  He cocked his head. “On what?”

  “On you. Is this going to be a friendly conversation, or is it going to turn into another ‘official’ interview?”

  He smiled. “I’m looking for a friendly conversation. What are you looking for?”

  “Definitely not an interview.” I paused, gave him a hard look, then gestured with my head that the he was welcome to the seat. Hopefully, he would take the hint and not bring up the day’s earlier events. He took a moment to settle in. I tried to ignore the jolt of electricity shooting through me from his closeness.

  “Who’s your friend?”

  I gave him a puzzled look. “Friend?”

  He jerked his head toward the door. “The guy who was just sitting here.”

  “He absolutely isn’t a friend,” I said.

  “Oh.” Daniel sipped his beer, an innocent expression on his face.

  I eyed him suspiciously. “That’s what you wanted to talk about?”

  He widened his eyes. “No, I was just curious. That’s all.”

  “Curiosity killed the cat.”

  “I never did understand that saying,” Daniel mused. “Curiosity is one of the most powerful tools a cop has.”

  “But still the killer of many a cat.”

  “Does this mean you don’t want me asking any questions?”

  I put my wine glass down with a thunk. “I knew it. This is an official interview.”

  He held both hands up. “Whoa. Hold on. I thought we were having a friendly conversation.”

  “You and I have a very different definition of ‘friendly’.”

  He laughed. “Touché. Okay, look, I am curious about something. But I’m asking as a friend, not as a cop. Okay?”