Secrets of Redemption Box Set

by Michele Pariza Wacek

  I had a bath, a good cry and spent the night binging on wine, junk food and Grey’s Anatomy reruns on Netflix.

  At some point I must have fallen asleep–lost in a fog of alcohol, sugar, grease and fat. I didn’t even hear Chrissy or Mia come home. But as the rising sun crept over the horizon, I regained consciousness only to find myself surrounded by half-eaten pizza slices, crushed potato chips, congealed dip, a bowl of melted ice cream and a half glass of wine.

  Yikes. No wonder I felt like crap.

  I sipped my coffee and pondered making breakfast. I probably needed something that was at least somewhat healthy, although nothing sounded good. Coffee seemed to be all I could handle.

  “You’re up early,” Mia said, yawning as she came into the kitchen and headed for the coffee pot.

  “Could say the same to you,” I said.

  She poured herself a cup. “I’ve got the lunch shift today and I’m going in earlier to help cover for one of the waitresses.” She joined me at the table. “Feeling any better?”

  “Not really. But that’s probably more about all the crap I ate last night.”

  She studied me over the top of her mug. “I thought you went home because you weren’t feeling well. Why were you eating crap?”

  I raked my hand through my hair. “I wasn’t lying. I didn’t feel well. It seemed like everywhere I went, I kept running into people glaring at me. I started to feel like Louise was right. I was a distraction and it was better if I left.”

  “Oh honey,” Mia reached over to squeeze my hand. “I wish you had said something to me.”

  “You were busy. I didn’t want to bother you.”

  Mia shook her head. “This town sucks sometimes.”

  “Yeah, well. I saw Gwyn, too.”

  “God, that in itself could explain why you didn’t feel well.”

  I slouched further in my seat. “She was with Celia and Ellen. I didn’t realize they were all friends. If looks could kill …” I shook my head, not bothering to finish my statement.

  “They’ll get over it,” Mia said briskly. “Daniel is a big boy and is perfectly capable of making up his own mind. And besides, none of them saw you and Daniel together when we were teenagers. If they had, they would have known this was inevitable. Gwyn will have no trouble finding someone else.”

  I smiled slightly. “Thanks.”

  Mia sipped her coffee. “Anytime.”

  I took a sip of my coffee as well. “So what happened after I left?”

  Mia screwed up her face, thinking. “Nothing much,” she said at last. “Daphne showed up but she didn’t stay long. I think she just dropped off some sandwiches or cookies or something. Said she couldn’t stay but wanted to help. As far as I could tell, none of the searchers found anything. Jillian broke down sobbing. That was a mess.”

  “Poor Jillian.”

  “Yeah. It’s heartbreaking.” Mia paused, staring into her coffee. “You know, Rich was there, too. And acting strangely.”

  “How so?”

  “He just seemed ... really torn up about it. More than normal. You know?”

  “I’m not following.”

  “Well, there’s no question this is all upsetting. Not only is it upsetting to have a teenager disappear, but this whole thing is a huge reminder of what happened to Jessica fifteen years ago. I know Rich had a crush on Jessica and he took her disappearance hard, but still. I would bet good money he barely knew Brittany so why was he so emotional?”

  “You don’t think ... he couldn’t have had anything to do with Brittany?”

  Mia frantically shook her head. “No. I can’t believe Rich would have anything to do with Brittany’s disappearance. But it made me wonder again about what happened fifteen years ago. Especially since he won’t even speak to you and there’s that missing period of time.”

  I leaned forward slightly. “Mia, what are you saying?”

  She clapped her hands over her eyes. “God. I can’t believe I said that. Or even thought it. No. I can’t believe Rich had anything to do with Jessica’s disappearance. He loved her. Or at least had a major crush on her.”

  People kill for love all the time, I thought, but I kept my mouth shut. Mia didn’t need to hear that right now. Instead I said, “We know he’s still feeling guilty about that night. It’s probably just that.”

  “Probably,” she said. “This is all just bringing up a lot of emotional crap. I’m not thinking straight.” She picked up her mug and took a long swallow.

  “What about Barry?” I asked. “Was he there?”

  She sighed. “Yes, he was there, too. Celia left early, probably shortly after you saw her, but he stayed.”

  “How was he?”

  “He was more aloof. Not at all like himself. No cracking jokes or any of that. He seemed sort of stone-faced, almost. Which isn’t like him at all. Every time I saw either Barry or Rich, I kept thinking about that missing chunk of time and how neither of them would tell you where they were or what they were doing. It was also weird watching them together. Barry kept pulling Rich aside, almost like he was trying to help Rich get a hold of himself. It was all so ... odd.”

  “Do you think they’d be more open with you than me?”

  She blew the air out of her lungs. “I don’t know. Maybe. I still can’t believe they were involved. But there was definitely something funny about how they were acting. I wanted to talk to Daniel about it but he had already left.”

  “Where did Daniel go?”

  “To take Maude home. Well, not ‘home,’ I guess, but back to the area where she normally hangs out.”

  I blinked. “Maude? Homeless Maude?”

  Mia nodded. “Yeah, that’s her.”

  “She was there? At the church?”

  “She was there. Weird, isn’t it? Although there’s been lots of things going on that have been weird so why should this be any different? But yeah, it’s a mystery how she even got way out by the church. No one knows.”

  Something tickled at the back of my head, and I remembered my dream about Maude pushing her shopping cart in the woods. No, it couldn’t be related. Nevertheless, I found myself sitting up in my chair. “So, what happened? Why was she out there?”

  Mia stirred her coffee. “That’s the thing. She wanted to help. That’s what she said at least. Although, I’m not sure she even knows who Brittany is, much less that she’s missing. And she kept talking about the devil.”

  I gasped as I sloshed hot coffee all over my hand. The tickle at the back of my head transformed into icy knives dragging across my neck.

  Mia glanced at me, saw the coffee. “Are you okay?” She dashed over to grab a wet washcloth.

  “I’m fine,” I said, as she mopped my hand and the table. “What did Maude say exactly?”

  “I don’t know. It didn’t make a lot of sense. Seeing the devil. Something like that. Whatever it was, she was pretty worked up about it. Daniel ended up taking her away.” Mia leaned back from mopping up the coffee and looked me directly in the eyes. “So, clearly this means something to you. What do you know?”

  I reached over to scoop up my investigation notes. “It was what Pat said. The day she died. I thought I told you. She was sure she saw the devil in her backyard.”

  Mia’s mouth made a little O. “Maybe I do remember, now that you say it. So, are you saying you think Pat did see the devil? And Maude saw it, too?” She didn’t sound all that convinced.

  I shook my head, the other pieces of what happened yesterday tumbling back into place. I had almost forgotten them after last night’s pity party. “No, I don’t think it’s the actual devil. But I think they both may have seen someone.” I quickly filled Mia in about Bear and my Peeping Tom theory.

  Mia stared at me. “Oh my God, I think you’re on to something. I never put all of that together. Did you tell Daniel?”
/>   “Of course. So maybe he wanted to try and question Maude.”

  “That would make sense,” Mia said. “He led her away pretty quickly once she started babbling about the devil.”

  “I have to get my memory back,” I mused. “This proves it.”

  Mia gave me a confused look. “Um. Maybe I just haven’t had enough coffee yet but I don’t see how what you told me has anything to do with what happened to Jessica.”

  “Because if there is a Peeping Tom, he was here too. The rabbit. The footprint. Why would he be watching me if there wasn’t some connection between Jessica and Brittany?”

  Mia frowned, pondering. “Maybe. But you weren’t convinced there was one person behind all of this before.”

  “That was before I realized Pat, Bear and Brittany were all neighbors. And now Maude shows up talking about the devil. Do you see what it all might mean?”

  Mia squished her face up. “I feel like it may be a good time to point out that Maude isn’t the most ... reliable witness. She may have seen ‘the devil’ any number of times around town, and it’s just a coincidence she’s talking about it now.”

  “But I dreamed about her too,” I said, before I could stop myself.

  Mia blinked. “Dreamed about who?”

  God, I wished I could pluck those words right back out of the air and stuff them down my throat. “Maude. I dreamed about her.”

  Mia opened her mouth and closed it a few times as if she was struggling to choose her words. “Becca,” she began carefully. “You do realize ...”

  “I’m not an idiot,” I interrupted. “Look, I know it’s just a dream. I know it’s not rooted in reality. But look at all the things that have happened.” I ticked them off with my fingers. “There’s a Peeping Tom who apparently also kills animals. Pat must have seen this Peeping Tom and called him ‘the devil.’ Pat lives right next to Brittany, so was the Peeping Tom watching Brittany, too? Stalking her? Before he took her? And, there’s evidence that the Peeping Tom was watching me too. So, what does this Peeping Tom have to do with me?”

  “Brittany looks exactly like Jessica, and you were the last one to see Jessica alive,” Mia finished for me.

  “I may have seen something that I don’t remember. And this Peeping Tom may not want me to remember,” I said. “Especially if he knows I’m trying to get my memory back.”

  “So, in this scenario,” Mia said slowly, like she was starting to put the pieces together and didn’t like the picture. “the Peeping Tom was obsessed with Jessica.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” I said.

  We were both silent. Although neither of us said his name, I know we were both thinking it.

  Rich.

  “But, why would this Peeping Tom suddenly strike now?” Mia asked. “I mean, Brittany lives here. If the Peeping Tom also lives here, what do you think set him off?”

  “Maybe it was my moving here,” I said. “With me gone, he didn’t have to worry about anyone remembering what happened to Jessica. Maybe he was just watching Brittany and biding his time. Or maybe he would have never taken her, being content just to watch her, especially if she never planned to leave Redemption. But when I moved back, maybe he was afraid I would say something, and that’s what started this whole chain of events.”

  Mia frowned as she stared into her coffee cup. “Maybe.” She picked up her cup, but instead of taking a drink, she just held it in her hands to soak in the warmth. “What you’re saying makes sense but it still feels like a long shot. Regardless, I think you’re right. The biggest priority right now is getting your memory back.”

  “I agree,” I said.

  “So, what’s the best way to do that? Have you seen a doctor?”

  My mind flashed back to Dr. Ellison and my stay in the psychiatric hospital. “Ah, no.”

  Mia shot me a look. “Do you think that might be a smart place to begin?”

  “Well, maybe,” I said hesitantly. “I haven’t had good experiences with psychologists or therapists though.”

  “I get it. But what you’re doing doesn’t seem to be working,” she gently pointed out.

  “Yeah, but won’t it take a long time? Doing this with a doctor? That’s what we don’t have. Brittany is missing and every minute counts.”

  “So, what else is there?” Mia asked. “You could light the candles.”

  My eyes dropped to the candles as I felt that familiar sense of dread fill me. “Yes, let’s do that. Today. What time do you get off work?”

  “Four. I can call Daphne, too. I think she should be here.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  “Perfect.” Mia got up and started rummaging around the kitchen. “I’m going to have to leave here pretty soon. Is there anything else you can do today? Anyone else you haven’t talked to about that night?”

  I opened my mouth to say, “No, I’ve talked to everyone who would talk to me.”

  But then I realized that wasn’t true.

  I hadn’t talked to CB yet.

  Mia glanced over at me. “Becca?”

  I swallowed. “CB,” I said. “I haven’t talked to CB yet.”

  “Oh, well that works out then,” Mia said. “You can call him today and report back when we’re all together.”

  I nodded, already dreading that phone call. CB hated talking about the past. It would be bad enough, listening to him tell me to ‘just let it go already.’ (He had said that more than once after my first divorce.) But even worse, he’d likely start grilling me about when I would be selling the house and moving back to New York too.

  I so didn’t feel like having that conversation today. The more I thought about moving back to New York, the more it depressed me, but I honestly didn’t see any other alternative.

  However, Mia was right. If I was going to get to the bottom of what happened to Jessica, I had to call him.

  “I likely won’t get much from him,” I warned. “He’s not a big fan of reliving the past.”

  “Yeah, well, neither is Rich or Barry. At least you’ll have tried. Hopefully, this candle-lighting ceremony will help, too.”

  “Hopefully,” I said. Because if it doesn’t, I won’t know what else to do.

  And Brittany may run out of time.

  Chapter 28

  I had run out of excuses.

  Breakfast had long been eaten. Kitchen was scrubbed and shiny. Dishes removed from my room, crumbs vacuumed and bed made. A load of laundry was in the washing machine.

  Even I was clean and shiny, freshly showered, and wearing a green sundress.

  There was nothing left to do. Nothing to stop me from calling CB.

  I could hear his voice in my head—“Cos, why are you wasting my time with this? Jessica is long gone. Don’t you have packing to do?”

  I rubbed my forehead, feeling the edges of a headache creep in. Maybe I didn’t even need to have this conversation with him since I already knew what he was going to say.

  But even as I thought it, I knew I was just delaying the inevitable. I needed to call. I needed to finish this.

  I blew the air out of my lungs and looked around the backyard. It wasn’t quite as humid as yesterday, but it was still hot, sitting in the sun. I could feel the sweat bead up at the back of my neck.

  Next to me, Oscar gazed up at me, his dark-green eyes unblinking. He had followed me outside and made himself comfortable on the porch swing next to me.

  He had never done that before but I was glad he did. It was soothing having him there. It was like he was giving me moral support.

  You’ve got this, I could almost hear him saying. I’m here for you.

  I hoped he was right.

  My phone rang. I nearly fell off the bench, the sound startled me so much. Maybe it was CB, which would be ideal. It would be much easier for me to work my questio
ns into a conversation he initiated.

  But it wasn’t. It was my mother.

  I stared at the phone, feeling the sweat drip down my back. Did I really want to take her call? She had been texting me, asking me when she could expect me home. Was this the conversation I really wanted to have right now?

  Not particularly. I picked up the phone to dismiss the call but found myself answering it instead.

  “Oh, I’m so glad I caught you,” my mother said. She sounded slightly out of breath. “We just lined up the painters for next week, and I want to get your opinion on this perfect silvery-grey color I found. The last tenant actually painted the walls pink. Pink! Can you believe it?”

  I closed my eyes. “Whatever you think is best.”

  “I’d rather get your opinion since you’re going to be the one living there,” my mother said. “Let me text you a picture. And if you can, get back to me no later than tomorrow, okay? I want to get the painters in there soon so we’re all set for you. Although, you can always just stay with us until the apartment is done, so don’t let that stop you.”

  “There’s no rush,” I said. “I’m still … tying up loose ends.”

  “Still? How many loose ends can there possibly be? You haven’t lived there very long. Are you sure these aren’t things you can take care of from New York?”

  Next to me, Oscar’s eyes narrowed to slits.

  “No, these are things I need to take care of in person,” I said.

  “Well, what are these loose ends? Maybe I can help.”

  “Just ... things I have to do,” I said vaguely. “Packing. Sorting. Things like that.”

  “You can hire people to do that.”

  “Well, those aren’t the only things.”

  “So, what are the other things?”

  “Just ... stuff I have to do,” I said. I had zero intention of telling her the truth— that I was trying to get my memory back of that night. After all the blood, sweat, and tears she poured into making sure my memory stayed lost, I didn’t even want to imagine her reaction.