“Why are you being so secretive?”
“Why are you pushing so hard?” I asked, exasperated. “There’s no rush, is there? I’ll get to New York when I can.”
“We’re holding a job for you,” she said reproachfully. “Your brother needs that position filled.”
“I get it. If he can’t wait, I’m sure I can find another job. I’m working as fast as I can here.”
“I also don’t think being there is good for you,” she continued.
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Bad things happen to you in Redemption. The sooner you leave, the better.”
I was about to repeat that I was moving as fast as I could when my mother’s words sunk in. “What bad things?”
My mother paused. “What?”
“Things. You said ‘things.’ What other bad things happened to me here?”
“Do I need to remind you that you almost died in Redemption?”
“Yes, that’s one thing,” I said. “What else?”
“Well,” my mother said, clearly flustered. “Isn’t that enough?”
Something shifted in my head, and I found myself looking at everything my mother said to me in a new light. “Why are you pushing me so hard to leave Redemption?”
“Because it’s not good for you! Why is that so hard to understand?”
“How do you know it’s not good for me?”
“You know why!” Her voice was getting louder, shriller. “You almost died!”
“No, actually I don’t know,” I said slowly. “What do you know about that night? What are you hiding from me?”
“I’m not ... how can you think that? I’m your mother. I’m worried about you.”
“Then tell me about that night,” I said. “What did Aunt Charlie tell you? What did the cops?”
“Rebecca, stop. Just stop. Right now. Stop this nonsense.” Was there a trace of hysteria in her voice or was I imagining it? “There’s no reason to be digging all this up. Don’t you see why I want you to come home? This is why! It’s not healthy for you.”
“You keep saying that,” I said. “But why isn’t it healthy? What’s going on?”
“Rebecca, I think you need to leave Redemption immediately. Don’t worry about these so-called ‘loose ends.’ Just book a flight and get here. We’ll worry about getting the rest of your things later.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said. “But right now, I have to go. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Rebecca ...”
“Bye, mom.”
I hung up and just sat there, holding the phone.
What was really going on here? What didn’t my mother want me to know?
“You’re moving?”
Startled for yet a second time that day, I jumped in my seat before whirling around to see Chrissy standing there. “You scared me.”
Her gaze didn’t waver. “You’re moving?” Her hair was still damp from her shower, and she was wearing Mia’s electric-blue shirt and black shorts, since I had finally managed to snag her clothes and throw them into the washer. She was still way too thin and way too pale, but I could see some color starting to come back into her cheeks.
“How much did you hear?”
She had the grace to look ashamed. “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I was in the kitchen and, well, your voices carried.” She folded her arms across her chest and I braced myself for a screaming fit. To my surprise, she kept her voice level. “I take it since you’re not answering the question that the answer is yes.”
I sighed and looked away. “It’s complicated.” There was no sense keeping the truth from her. She was old enough to hear it.
“Yeah, well, that didn’t take long.”
I looked back at her, surprised by her response. “What are you talking about?”
“Your promise. It didn’t long for you to break your promise.”
I cocked my head and studied her, still surprised that she hadn’t yet thrown a fit. We were actually having a relatively civilized conversation. Definite progress.
Chrissy didn’t meet my eyes. Instead, her gaze was fixed on a point past me. Every line of her, from the way she was standing to the setting of her jaw, screamed pure teenager ‘I-don’t-care.’ But, underneath the teenager bravado, I could see the hurt and pain of betrayal. “You mean my promise that you could stay with me? Why do you think I’m breaking that promise?”
Her expression changed to ‘duh.’ “I can’t stay here if you’re moving.”
“That’s true,” I said thoughtfully. “But there’s no reason you can’t move back to New York with me.”
Her eyes flitted to me and away again but, in that second, I saw it—hope. “Where would I stay?”
“With me, of course. It’s not a huge apartment, but there’s room for two.”
She paused, taking it all in. I could see her swallow. “You’d do that for me?” I could hear the fear, the hope and the pain all rolled into that statement and yet again, I felt my heart constrict for this broken child.
“Come sit next to me,” I said, sliding closer to Oscar and patting the swing next to me. After a moment’s hesitation, she moved to sit down.
“So first off, if you want to stay with me and you keep following the rules, you can stay with me as long as you want. That’s never changing. It doesn’t matter if we stay here or move back to New York. Okay?”
She didn’t look at me, instead studying her hands in her lap. I waited until I saw her nod.
“Second, I don’t know if we’re moving or not. The truth is,” here I paused. I didn’t really want to throw her father under the bus again but I didn’t see any way around it. She deserved the truth. “Your father did succeed in draining a good chunk of my trust fund and the authorities haven’t been able to recover it. At least, not yet.” I could see her eyes narrow but she stayed quiet. “And, well, we’re broke. Or, almost broke. I have enough to pay the living expenses for a few months, but that’s it, unless I’m able to find a job or restart my aunt’s business. Or maybe sell my art but that’s really a long shot considering I haven’t painted in years.”
A surge of grief rose up in me and I paused to get myself under control. Chrissy still hadn’t moved. A few strands of her black hair blew softly around her face.
“Anyway, my mother has arranged an apartment for me, for us, back in New York and a job. So, that may be our only option.”
Her mouth worked silently for a moment. “How can you stand to look at me?”
I blinked. “What?”
“After what my father did to you. Is still doing to you. Why don’t you hate me?”
“Because you had nothing to do with it. I told you that but if you need me to keep telling you that I will, as many times as you need to hear it. Nothing your father does or doesn’t do is your fault.”
She shifted her head but not before I saw a sheen of wetness at the corner of her eyes. “Do you want to move back to New York?” she asked.
I looked around the backyard, taking in the thriving garden, the chirping songbirds, the squirrels playing in the trees. “I’m not sure,” I said. “There’s pros and cons to both. And, to be honest, I haven’t asked myself what I want. It doesn’t really matter.”
She didn’t answer, gnawing her lip as she thought it through.
“But what about you?” I asked. “Would you prefer to move back? Or do you want to stay here?”
That made Chrissy look up, her expression surprised. “Me? You’re asking me?”
I shrugged. “It’s your life, too. Which do you prefer? Now, I can’t promise that you’ll get what you want, as some things are out of my control, but I’d like to know which you’d choose.”
I expected her to say “New York,” and I was surprised how depressing the thought was to me. Regardless, I thought it was important
to hear her. She was sixteen. She deserved a say.
She didn’t answer right away. I was about to prompt her, wondering if I just missed her answer, when she finally spoke. “I ... I’m not sure,” she said slowly. “I feel like I should be jumping up and down and screaming ‘Yes, let’s go back to New York!’ But ... I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” I said, feeling a surge of hope at her words even as I tried to tamp it down. The odds of us being able to stay were slim and seemed to be getting slimmer. “You can think about it. And, like I said before, what you want and what we do may be two different things.”
“No, I get it,” she said. “I’m not a child.”
For some reason, that made me want to cry. No, she wasn’t a child. Not anymore. Not since the day her dad talked her into making my life a living hell.
And it absolutely wasn’t fair.
But there were a lot of things that weren’t fair and the sooner Chrissy learned that lesson, the better.
“Daphne and Mia are both going to be here for dinner,” I said, changing the subject. “Do you want to join us?” I secretly hoped she wouldn’t. If she said yes I was going to be stuck trying to explain to her the whole candle-lighting ceremony, which I really didn’t feel like doing. The fewer people participating, the better. Not to mention if I ended up having some sort of breakdown during it, I didn’t think it would be all that healthy for Chrissy to witness it.
To my relief, she shook her head. “A couple of Brittany’s friends are organizing a candlelight vigil for her.”
“Oh.” I tried to hide my surprise. After yesterday’s reception at the search party, I didn’t think Brittany’s friends would invite Chrissy to anything. Of course, maybe it was just me everyone in this town objected to. Now that I thought about it, she had stayed and joined the search with a few other teenagers. “That’s nice.”
“Yeah,” she smiled shyly. “They thought Brittany had run away too.”
That made sense based on what Chrissy had said earlier. It didn’t sound like Brittany was keeping her unhappiness at home much of a secret.
“I can make dinner for you before I go,” she offered.
“You don’t have to do that,” I said, but I was touched.
She stood, brushing her hands against her shorts. “I’d like to. Besides, isn’t one of the rules for me to help out?” She smiled at me, a real smile.
“Yeah,” I said, giving her a crooked smile in return. “You’re right. That is one of the rules.”
“Well, okay then.” She turned to head to the house.
“Chrissy,” I called out. She turned. “Thank you.”
She smiled her dazzling smile again, so like her father’s it made my heart hurt, and went into the house.
Chapter 29
Once Chrissy was safely in the house, I got up to take a quiet stroll closer to the woods. I still needed to call CB and I didn’t want Chrissy overhearing me. I clicked on CB’s number and listened to the phone ring and ring. Was I going to have to leave a message? What sort should I leave? Maybe I should just text him to call me. But at the last moment, he picked up.
“What?” He sounded out of breath, like I had caught him running in the door.
“It’s me. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No, no, of course not.” His voice sounded more normal. “Sorry, just left Marguerite. One of those visits, you know? Anyway, what’s up?”
I took a deep breath. “I was hoping you could do something for me.”
“What?? Be still my beating heart! Becs is asking for help?”
“Very funny. Could you tell me what you remember from the night Jessica disappeared?”
Silence. Not even background noise. CB must still be in Marguerite’s apartment building for it to be that quiet. “Why on earth do you want to know that?” He sounded suspicious but at least he wasn’t lecturing me.
“You remember Brittany, right? Jessica’s niece? Well, she disappeared. And I thought maybe if I remembered that night, I may be able to help find her.”
“Why would you think there’s a connection between Brittany and Jessica?”
I closed my eyes. “Just ... humor me. It’s too long to get into right now but please, if you could just tell me what you remember.”
“What’s the point? What’s done is done. Everyone knows she ran away. How could her running away have anything to do with Brittany?”
“We don’t know that she ran away,” I said. “Mia doesn’t believe it. The clothes ...”
“Mia is just pissed that Jessica left her. Of course she left. What else could have happened to her?”
“That’s the point. We don’t know. And maybe, if I can get my memory back, I can help shed some light on what really happened.”
“I thought you wanted to remember because you wanted to find Brittany. Now you’re telling me you want to solve a fifteen-year-old case? That’s ridiculous. Who’s putting you up to this? Mia? Daniel?”
“Nobody is putting me up to it. I’m the one who wants to know.”
“No, I don’t believe it. Someone is behind this. You were never interested before.”
“Honestly, this is my idea,” I said, feeling like I was losing control of the conversation quickly and not sure how to get it back. “And yes, you’re right. I wasn’t interested in getting my memory back when I was in New York. But now that I’m here in Redemption, I see how much Jessica’s disappearance affected everyone and ...”
“See,” CB interrupted. “That’s why your being there is such a mistake. When are you moving back?”
“I’m not sure but that’s not the point right now ...”
“Of course that’s the point! The sooner you get out of there, the better. Redemption isn’t doing you any good.”
He sounded so much like my mother, it gave me pause. Why were they both so hell-bent on getting me out of Redemption?
“CB, here’s the thing,” I said, trying a different tact. “I know you don’t like talking about the past, but the reality is that I need closure with this. Our friends need closure. This town needs closure. I’m not leaving until I remember. So, if you want me to leave sooner, then help me remember. Tell me what you know.”
“Why are you being so unreasonable?”
“What?” I couldn’t believe I had heard him right. “Why am I ‘being so unreasonable’? CB, for God’s sake, just tell me what you know. Why is that so difficult?”
“Has it occurred to you that there’s a reason why I don’t want to remember that day? Or talk about it?”
“I know it was pretty stressful ...”
“Stressful? I watched you almost die. Yeah, I guess you could call that stressful.”
I closed my eyes. “CB, I ... okay. Sorry. Point taken. Don’t you think it would help you to talk about it? Instead of burying it?”
“I’m not the one having a problem. You’re the one who wants to dig everything back up.”
I rubbed my forehead. Clearly, this was a dead end. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
“It’s okay,” his voice softened. “I’m sure it probably feels frustrating not to remember. But, honestly, I think you’re the lucky one. Why would you possibly want to remember the night you almost died?”
“You’re probably right,” I said, more to appease him than anything else.
“I gotta go,” he said. “But cos, really, you got to get out of there. Go figure out when you’re going to leave and then let me know. Okay?”
“As soon as I know, you’ll know,” I said.
“Good girl,” he said. “Trust me, you’ll thank me once you’re back in New York.”
I hung up, unable to shake the feeling that neither my mother nor CB were telling me the whole truth.
***
&nb
sp; I was still outside, having returned to my porch swing so I could mull about my conversations with CB and my mother, wondering how I could possibly get to the bottom of what they were hiding from me when both of them refused to talk about it, when Daniel appeared.
It was so sudden that I jumped, rattling the wooden seat and causing Oscar to shoot me a dirty look. “Oh my God. Daniel, you scared me.” I felt like I had spent the entire day in a state of perpetual startle.
“Sorry,” he said, heading toward me. He was wearing his uniform, so he must still be on duty. Actually, the closer he got, the more it appeared to be the same uniform he had on yesterday. It was wrinkled and stained with sweat. Daniel looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His face was puffy, his eyes bruised with huge circles and he definitely needed a shave.
“Any news?” I asked, praying he wasn’t going to tell me he found a body.
He shook his head, his expression flat.
I sighed.
“Yeah, pretty much sums up how I feel.” He handed me a file folder. I gave him a questioning look as I took it.
“It’s Jessica’s case file,” he said.
My fingers loosened in shock and the file slid to my lap. “You’re giving this to me? Why?”
He made a gesture to one of the outdoor chairs.
“Of course, sit down,” I said quickly, embarrassed that I had forgotten my manners. “Can I get you something to drink? I have fresh lemonade.”
“I would love a glass of lemonade, but unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of time.” He adjusted the chair so it was facing me and nearly collapsed into it. He must be dead on his feet. I wondered if he would be able to get back up.
“Let me get you a glass. You can take it with you,” I said. I started to get up, but he waved me back.
“I really don’t have a lot of time. I probably shouldn’t be here at all but ... I’m desperate.”
I fingered the file. “Out of leads?”
He heaved a deep sigh. “There’s just no trace of her. The clock is ticking and with every second, the trail is getting colder. My brain tells me there couldn’t possibly be any connection between Jessica and Brittany, and even if there was, how possible is it that you might remember something helpful?”
Secrets of Redemption Box Set Page 58