Daniel looked flabbergasted. “Margot, can’t this wait? We’re trying to find Brittany ...”
“I know who you’re trying to find,” Margot exploded. “Why do you think I’m here? Who do you think is responsible for all of this?”
It seemed like everyone in the room gasped. Daniel’s eyes got even wider. “Margot, are you saying Chrissy was involved in Brittany’s disappearance?”
“Of course I am!” Margot snapped. “What the hell is wrong with you, Daniel? Have you lost every decent brain cell the good Lord gave you? Or has that witch’s niece got you so under her spell that you can’t do your job anymore?”
“Witch’s niece”? She must mean me. I could feel my face growing hot. Next to me, Mia took a step closer. Someone protectively squeezed my other arm, and when I glanced over, Daphne’s pale but determined face met my eyes.
Daniel straightened, his surprised expression replaced by his professional, no-nonsense cop face. “Why do you think Chrissy has anything to do with Brittany’s disappearance?” he asked, his voice flat and business-like.
She waved her hand at Chrissy. “Because she was the last one to see Brittany.”
I closed my eyes. Oh God. Not again.
“How do you know that?”
“Because she and Brittany went out earlier but only she came back.”
“We know,” Daniel said. “We already talked to Chrissy. She and Brittany went shopping and had lunch. Brittany was looking for a new outfit for the party tonight while picking up a few things for her parents. She dropped Chrissy off and as far as Chrissy knows, she headed home to help get ready for the party.”
“And that’s precisely the point,” Margot said. “Clearly, Brittany didn’t make it home. So, what happened?”
“That’s what we’re looking into.”
Margot drew herself up to glare at Daniel. “Maybe look a little harder.”
“Stop that,” I said, my voice so loud I shocked myself. It shocked everyone else too and all of the heads in the room snapped around to look at me. Even Chrissy, who had stood huddled in front of Daniel looking simultaneously miserable and defiant, stared at me.
“Just stop it,” I said, stepping forward. “She’s sixteen years old. What precisely are you accusing her of?”
Margot stared at me like I had grown two heads. “YOU, of all people, should understand exactly what I’m saying. Look at what she did to you!”
“Yes, she hurt me. But, at the end of the day, she did the right thing,” I said. “She’s a good kid. She wouldn’t do anything to Brittany.”
Louise pushed forward then, her face twisting up like she had eaten a lemon. “Just like you, right? You were the last person to see Jessica alive! What happened to her? Why haven’t you said anything all these years?”
“This isn’t about Jessica,” I said. “This is about Brittany and making sure she’s safe. Blaming Chrissy isn’t going to help you find her.”
“How do you know?”
“I know,” I said grimly, sounding far surer than I felt. I took several steps forward, reaching out to take Chrissy’s arm. “Come on, Chrissy. You’re coming home with me.”
I don’t know who looked more surprised—Chrissy, Daniel or Daphne, who turned to me in horror. “Come on. Let’s go.” I pulled her toward the door.
Daniel strode forward and grabbed my arm. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea ...”
“It’s fine,” I said, not looking at him as I shook him off. The last thing either of us needed was more speculation after what Margot had said. “Mia is staying with us.”
I hurried Chrissy out the door, figuring the best thing I could do at that point was to simply get us both out of there as quickly as possible.
The humid air was like a wet slap to my face after the freezing air conditioning inside the restaurant, but it still felt fresh and clean in comparison to the toxic environment inside. I took a deep breath, already feeling better.
I glanced at Chrissy, who was peering out at me from behind her greasy hair. God, she needed a bath. And food. And probably a good night’s sleep.
For a moment, I debated bringing up the last thing she said to me about never wanting to see me again, if only to acknowledge what was said, and dismissed it just as quickly. Why on earth would I air all the nasty things Chrissy said to me out in public? If she meant what she said and didn’t want to come home with me, then I guess she was on her own. Still, I was going to try.
“Come on,” I said to her, and without waiting for her to answer, I strode forward to my car, holding my breath and hoping she would follow. After an agonizing heart-stopping moment, she did.
Chapter 23
Chrissy didn’t say a word the entire way home. I didn’t speak either. Instead, I spent the time trying to figure out what I could possibly say to finally reach her.
I waited until I was unlocking the front door to the house before I broke the silence. “Mia is staying in your room,” I said, as we entered the house. “We actually started cleaning out Aunt Char ... I mean, the master bedroom. I’ll move in there. Do you want to sleep in my old room, or should we move Mia ...?”
“Why did you do it?” Chrissy asked, dropping her two bags and turning to face me. “Why did you take me home?”
I shrugged. “Where else are you going to stay?”
“That doesn’t mean you needed to take me,” she said. “Everyone is right. You are a sucker.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I snapped, my patience starting to fray. “You planning on hurting me again?”
She glared at me “No. But that’s beside the point.”
“What do you mean, ‘That’s beside the point?’ That IS the point.”
“No, it’s not,” she shrieked.
“Chrissy, what the hell is wrong with you?” I shouted back. “Would you rather I kicked you out? Have you live on the streets? Or find you another home, assuming someone else would even take you in after this mess? Or maybe I should just call social services, like I should have done in the beginning, and let them deal with you? Is that what you want?”
“You should, yes! Because that’s what I deserve,” she screamed before bursting into tears.
For a moment I could only stare at her, trying to process what I had just heard. “Chrissy, you can’t ... you don’t think you deserve to be treated like garbage? To be thrown away?”
“Just leave me alone,” she shrieked. “I don’t want to talk to you.” She whirled around and ran up the stairs before slamming to a halt in the middle of the hallway. She stood there, her head bouncing back and forth between the two rooms, her hands clenching and unclenching as she tried to work out which room to run into.
Silently I picked up her bags and carried them up the stairs, depositing them in my old room. I then went and collected clean sheets and tossed them on the bed before going to the closet and bureau and collecting an armload of clothes. “I’ll get the rest of my stuff out later,” I said. “And, if you don’t like this room, we can talk about it tomorrow when Mia is here.”
Chrissy hadn’t moved. She watched me, her face red and blotchy and streaked with tears. She opened her mouth like she was going to yell at me some more, but she brushed past me instead, entering the room. I thought she’d slam the door shut, but she closed it softly instead.
Maybe I should have put a towel on the bed along with the sheets, I mused as I headed to the master bedroom. Would that have been enough of a hint for her to take a shower before crawling into those nice, clean sheets?
Well, I guess I can always wash them again.
I left my door open, in case Chrissy wanted to talk as I finished cleaning and organizing. The house remained silent, Chrissy’s door firmly closed.
***
The sun woke me. At first I didn’t know where I was but then I remembered.
I was in the master bedroom. My aunt’s bedroom was officially mine.
I sat up and stretched, amazed at how well and late I had slept, and by my realization that there had been no incidents in the night.
I threw the covers back and pulled on a pair of old shorts and a tank top before heading down the stairs. I heard the water running, so I knew either Mia or Chrissy was in the shower. I wasn’t sure which, as both bedroom doors were still closed.
As much as I wanted to check on Chrissy, I restrained myself, and continued my journey to the kitchen for some much-needed coffee.
It was late before I had finally gotten to bed. I had to go back to Aunt May’s to pick up Mia after her shift. As she slid into the car, she had looked as exhausted as I felt. Deep lines had etched around her eyes.
“Any word on Brittany?” I asked.
“Not a thing,” she said, shaking her head. “At least, as far as I know.”
“Let’s hope you just haven’t heard.”
“Yeah, let’s hope.” Her tone didn’t sound terribly optimistic. “How’s Chrissy?”
“She’s ok. She’s in my old room.”
“So, it went well?”
I eyed her. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly. She apparently thinks she should be punished or something because of what she did.”
Mia looked surprised. “What? But she was the reason you were saved.”
“Yeah, I’m not precisely sure what her thought process is. She’s pretty emotional, and she just sort of lost it on me.”
“Well, she’s sixteen and a walking hormonal mess.”
“Yeah, and her friend has just disappeared and, she was just publicly blamed for it. So, yeah. I’m leaving her alone for the night. I’m hoping she’ll get some sleep. Maybe get a shower in there, too. And a midnight snack.”
Mia smiled as she looked down at her phone. “You sound like a mother.”
A mother. I pondered that as I made coffee. Had I somehow turned into an actual mother throughout the entire mess that began with my return to Redemption? It was difficult to believe, especially to Chrissy, of all people, yet ... I was feeling it.
“Becca?”
I turned. Chrissy stood at the door, her face pale and her eyes puffy, wearing the same filthy clothes as yesterday. I wondered if I could sneak into her room at some point and throw everything into the washer.
She didn’t meet my eyes. “I ... Thank you,” she said. “For last night. For getting me out of there.”
“You’re welcome,” I said. I turned to the fridge and started pulling eggs and bacon out. “Want some breakfast?”
She didn’t answer, as she kept her eyes on the floor. I continued pulling food out of the fridge, wondering if maybe breakfast was a waste of my time. I wondered if what I really ought to be doing was bundling her into the car and taking her to the hospital.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said softly.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, deliberately misunderstanding her. “It’s breakfast time. It’s customary to eat.”
“You ... you don’t have to take me in. Make me breakfast,” she gestured in a half-hearted wave. “All of it.”
“Well, someone has to make breakfast and I don’t see you volunteering,” I said.
She turned her head to stare out the window, but I wondered if she was really seeing anything at all. “I just wanted to tell you, I’ll be getting out of your hair today,” she said.
I pulled out a frying pan for the bacon. “You’re not in my hair,” I said. “You’re welcome to stay.”
“Why?”
I shot her a quick glance. She looked miserable, hunched over like a beaten and abused cat. “Believe it or not, I’m still legally your stepmother. This is your home, too. For as long as you want it.” The smell of frying bacon was heavenly. I suddenly realized how hungry I was. I dug out some bread for toast. “There will be rules, though. We can talk about that after breakfast.” I wrinkled my nose. “And maybe after you take a shower.” And burn those clothes I thought to myself, but decided not to say it out loud.
“I mean, why are you being so nice to me?” She asked, her voice louder. “After what I did to you? I don’t understand. What do you want from me?”
I paused for a moment, before putting down the spatula and staring Chrissy straight in the eye. “What you did is save me,” I said quietly. “What I want is for you to grow up and become the good person I know you are. You have a good heart. I want to see you become the amazing adult I know you have it in you to be.”
Tears were streaming down Chrissy’s face. “I don’t believe you,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper. “Look what I did to you. And what my father did to you. How can I be good? I have his blood running through my veins.”
My heart broke. I wanted to hug her but I was afraid she would run away if I tried. “You were just as much your father’s victim as I was. Besides, you have a choice now. This is your life. You can choose to follow in your father’s footsteps or follow your heart. It’s up to you.” I picked up the spatula and went back to my bacon, which was starting to burn. “If you choose to become the person that I know you can be, you’ll always have a place here.”
I concentrated on cooking to give her a moment to pull herself together. I could still hear her crying.
“Hey, is that bacon I smell? And coffee?” Mia’s voice chirped through the kitchen. “Oh man, if I knew I’d be waking up to this, I’d have moved in weeks ago!” She looked at Chrissy. “Are you okay?”
I heard Chrissy mutter something as she left the room. Mia watched her go before joining me in the kitchen to help herself to some coffee. She raised one eyebrow at me. I shook my head, not wanting Chrissy to overhear and mouthed “Will tell you later.” She nodded.
Mia and I had already started eating when Chrissy slunk back into the kitchen. “There you are,” I said brightly, patting the empty chair beside me. “Sit down. As you can see, there’s plenty for all.”
Chrissy paused, and I found myself holding my breath. What would I do if she refused? If she decided to leave after all? Could I keep her here against her will? Was that even a good thing?
The pause seemed to last for hours. I even found myself wondering if the food would still be warm at this point but, to my great relief, she sat down awkwardly and began to help herself.
Thank God.
After a moment, Mia started to make some small talk about work. I shot her a grateful smile.
We had just about finished when a phone beeped from the other room. Mia popped up. “Oh, that’s probably mine. I’ll go check.”
“I’m going to do a load of laundry after breakfast,” I said to Chrissy, trying to sound casual. “I’m happy to wash your clothes, if you’d like. Just toss them in the hallway.”
She muttered something I couldn’t hear, staring down at her food.
Well. This was like old times. The sullen teenager. It was definitely better than the screaming teenager. Baby steps.
More beeping came from the next room. “What the ...” I said, putting my fork down to go see what was going on when Mia walked back in.
The horror on her face instantly made me wish I hadn’t eaten such a huge breakfast after all. I could feel the eggs and bacon forming a greasy lump in my stomach, and I couldn’t swallow.
She handed me my phone. “You got the same text. Brittany’s car was found.”
There was the sound of breaking glass next to me. I turned to see Chrissy’s face, deathly white. She had knocked her orange juice glass on to the floor leaving a sticky mess of orange broken glass. We all ignored it.
“And Brittany ...?” Chrissy asked, her voice nearly inaudible.
Mia shook her head. “There’s no sign of her.”
Chapter 24
It’s happening again.
I was having t
rouble breathing. Not another missing sixteen-year-old. Please God, no.
Next to me, Chrissy was trembling all over as she kept repeating “No, no, no,” under her breath.
I reached over to put my hand on her arm, saying her name, but she jerked away so violently she almost fell out of her chair. “No, don’t touch me.”
“Chrissy, I ...”
“You blame me! I know you do. You think this is my fault.”
I stared at her, astonished. “I do not think this is your fault.”
She jumped out of her seat with such force she tipped the chair over. “You do. You think everything is my fault.”
“Watch the glass,” Mia said.
“Chrissy, hold on ...” I said, but I might as well have been talking to a wall. She ran out of the kitchen, pounding up the stairs and slamming the door shut in her room.
“Well, that went well,” Mia said.
I shook my head, getting up to fetch the cleaning supplies. “Welcome to my world. Vintage Chrissy.”
“It’s got to be tough for her. Everything that’s happened to her in these past couple of weeks? And now this?”
“I better go talk to her,” I said as I scooped up the glass. “She needs therapy. After all,” I paused, a dripping rag in one hand, glass in the other. “She did seem a bit defensive. Don’t you think?”
Mia raised an eyebrow at me. “Did you miss the part yesterday where her foster mom kicked her out for being the last person to see Brittany?”
“But, still … This is exactly how she used to overreact before, when I was being gaslighted.” I frowned as I finished my cleaning. “Do you think she knows something else?”
“The only way you’ll know is if you ask,” Mia said. “Oh. They’re organizing a search party later this morning if you want to go.”
“Of course,” I said, throwing the glass away and washing my hands. “I’ll tell Chrissy.” I was about to leave the kitchen when something occurred to me. I had meant to ask Mia earlier, but it had gone out of my head. “Yesterday at Aunt May’s. Why was everyone so upset with me? And with Aunt Charlie? What did Charlie do?”
Secrets of Redemption Box Set Page 54