He stopped talking, gazing off in the direction of my rose bushes. They were in full bloom, their scent sweet on the humid breeze.
“What does your gut say?” I gently asked.
He turned his head to look at me, staring straight into my eyes. I felt a jolt of electricity run through me, so strong it was like a caress. “To give you the file,” he said simply.
I picked up the file but didn’t open it. “Thank you,” I said softly.
He nodded toward the file. “You’ll tell me, right? If you remember anything?”
“Of course.”
“Day or night?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good.” He fished his cell phone out of his pocket and glanced at it. “I have to go but Mia is still staying with you, right? You’re not alone?”
“Yes, she’s still here.” I didn’t add that I wouldn’t be alone regardless since Chrissy was also staying with me. He was under enough stress. I didn’t need to bring up any other sore subjects. Hopefully Chrissy would stay put in the kitchen and out of Daniel’s sight.
He tucked his phone away and pulled out his keys, jingling them in his hand while he cleared his throat. “I really do have to go. I wish I didn’t.”
“I know. Go. You have a missing teenager to find.”
He didn’t move. “Maybe once things have calmed down, we can talk. Clear a few things up.”
That sounded ominous. What did he want to clear up? That he only wanted to be friends? That our kiss didn’t mean anything? That what Margot said in the diner about being under my spell wasn’t true, and his profession would keep him from being seen with me?
If so, maybe he would actually be doing me a favor. Was I even ready to date? Was I ready to trust myself when it came to relationships?
“Of course,” I said. “Brittany is the priority here. Once you find her, we can definitely talk.”
We stared at each other over what felt like miles and miles between us. Despite the exhaustion etched in his face, his dark-blue eyes were full of life and electricity. The energy hummed between us, making me hyperaware of the sweat dripping between my breasts, the small of my back and along the inside of my thighs. Why did everything have to be so complicated between us? Why couldn’t we just give in to the chemistry?
Maybe I was just cursed when it came to relationships.
A ghost of a smile touched his lips before he swiftly turned on his heel and strode away, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he disappeared, leaving me alone in the backyard.
Actually, I wasn’t alone. Oscar was still curled up next to me, watching me with his huge green eyes.
And of course, I now had the file.
Chapter 30
I ran my fingernail over the unlabeled, plain manila file folder. It wasn’t very thick.
There was nothing to indicate the bombshell that may be inside it, just waiting for me to set it off.
A part of me wanted to flip open the file and devour the contents, but I hesitated. It felt important to do it right.
I grabbed my cell and went into the house. Oscar immediately uncurled himself and hopped off the porch swing, padding quietly behind me.
Chrissy had her headphones on and was bobbing to the music as she alternated between stirring something on the stove and chopping an onion. She smiled when she saw me. I smiled back and poured myself a glass of lemonade. I refilled Oscar’s water dish with fresh water and collected my notes from the table. I decided to review everything in the living room where I’d be out of Chrissy’s way.
I made myself comfortable on the couch, spreading all my notes across the coffee table. A quick glance through the file revealed that Daniel had given me copies, not originals. I wondered if he had been selective in what had chosen to share with me but I pushed that thought away almost as quickly as it surfaced.
He didn’t have to give me anything. And, even if he had given me the original file, he still could have easily removed some of the pages, and I wouldn’t have been any the wiser.
I pulled the first page toward me and began to read.
By the time Mia poked her head through the doorway, I was busily scribbling notes and had completely lost track of time. It could have been hours, or it could have been ten minutes.
“Anything good?”
I straightened, wincing as I rubbed a cramp in my lower back. I must have been hunched over the coffee table longer than I had thought. “Maybe. Daniel brought me Jessica’s file.”
“Really? Wait, I think this calls for wine.” She disappeared back into the kitchen.
I stood up and stretched the kink in my back, before sweeping up my notes and joining Mia.
She was busy opening a bottle, three glasses in front of her. “Wait, let me pour the wine first. And what are we doing about dinner? Daphne will be here in a couple of hours and we should probably eat before we get into everything. Especially since I’m starving. Should we order a pizza?”
“Chrissy made us something. It’s probably in the fridge.”
“Wait? You’re throwing too much at me at once. Chrissy made us something?” Mia rummaged around the refrigerator, frowning as she pulled out a covered pan to examine it.
“Yes, she did.”
“And it even comes with instructions,” Mia said, pulling a sticky note off the top and reading it. “I’m supposed to put it in the oven. A Mexican casserole. What’s gotten into her?”
I shrugged. I wasn’t ready to tell Mia about my financial issues and how I would likely be selling the house and moving in a few months. “Not sure. I’m hoping it’s a sign that she’s ready to be serious about staying here.”
Mia popped the casserole into the oven. “Well, this is a great start if that’s the case. Will she be joining us?”
“Nope. She decided she didn’t want to spend the evening with her stepmom and her stepmom’s friends. She’s off to a candlelight vigil for Brittany.”
Mia joined me at the table, handing me a glass of wine. “Well dinner was easy, so now on to the important stuff. What’s in that police report?”
“Ah.” I shifted the papers around to unearth the report. “Here’s the file if you want to look at it. The short version is that it is what we thought—Rich was the one who saw me with Jessica.”
“Figures,” Mia said, leaning forward to flip through the pages. “Does it give details?”
“I guess Jessica and I were standing in the woods talking when Rich found us. Jessica was distraught, and I was saying something like ‘Just forget him.’ ‘Him’ meaning Rich.”
“That’s it?”
I could feel my face grow warm. “Ah, well. I guess I said a few other ... choice words, as well. Like ‘Screw him. Why do you care what he says? You’re leaving, right?’ That sort of thing.”
Mia made a face as she skimmed through the pages. “Ah, teenage angst.”
“So, I’m wondering if he thought I had talked Jessica out of coming back to him, or, at the very least, back to Aunt Charlie’s house. Then, after convincing her to stay away, I got sick and distracted everyone. I guess I can see why he blames me.”
Mia chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Yeah, when you say it like that, I see his point.”
“Also, it doesn’t look like the investigators noticed the period of time that Rich was ‘missing.’ He mentions seeing Daphne, and then says he ran off to ‘clear his head.’ But he must not have gone far, because he said the screams drew him back to Aunt Charlie’s backyard in time to see me on the ground.”
“So, we still don’t know where he went after he left Daphne?”
I shook my head. “It’s also not clear where Barry was, either. He claims he went back into the house after everyone separated to drink some water and go to the bathroom. Says he wanted to make sure he was good to drive. But you were in the bathroom.”
“Downstairs bathroom,” Mia said. “There IS more than one bathroom in this house.”
“Do you think he went upstairs?”
Mia shrugged. “It’s possible. We’d have to ask Daphne. I don’t remember seeing him but I was pretty sick.”
“Wasn’t CB in the house, too? Would CB be able to vouch for him?”
“Maybe. Speaking of CB, did you have a chance to talk to him?”
I paused, turning my head to look out the window. The sun was starting to set, turning the sky vibrant orange and red. The porch chair I had spent much of the afternoon in swayed gently, indicating a good breeze outside. Yet the trees and bushes were still. Had the wind just stopped?
“Becca. Earth to Becca,” Mia said, snapping her fingers in front of me. “Did you hear me?”
The kitchen was full of the warm, delicious scents of the casserole. In that moment, I wished more than anything that we could just be a couple of friends hanging out and having fun over dinner and wine—our only worries being our love life and work drama … our only experience with kidnapped teenagers being movies we watched on Lifetime. “Sorry, yes. You know, that casserole is probably done. Do you want me to get it?” I started to get up but Mia beat me to it.
“Enough with the distractions. Did you talk to him or not?” Mia said impatiently, scraping her chair back and heading to the kitchen.
“I did. It just ... wasn’t a pleasant conversation.”
“Why? What happened?” Mia asked as she whipped around the space, pulling out the food and organizing plates and forks on the counter. It was clear she knew her way around a kitchen.
I sighed. “I don’t think I told you this but CB and I fought before we came out here. Probably the first time in our lives that we really fought. He didn’t want me to move back. Neither did my mother. First thing they ever agreed on, I think.”
“Why didn’t he want you to come back?”
“Quite honestly, he never really told me until today. I guess it was really painful for him watching me almost die. He doesn’t like to think about it.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
I paused, wondering if I should bring up the conversation with my mother—I still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something they weren’t telling me.
“Anyway, needless to say, we didn’t talk about what he remembered.”
Mia scooped up some casserole before offering me the spatula. “What reason did your mother give for not wanting you to come here?”
“Same as CB, basically. Remember, she was glad I lost my memory and did everything in her power to keep it that way. She thought it was a blessing. And she forbade everyone from talking to me about it.”
“Hmm,” Mia said, forking up some casserole and taking a bite. “Hey, this is really good. Chrissy has some talent in the kitchen, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, she’s definitely got a knack for cooking.” It was really tasty—seasoned rice, ground beef, black beans, tomatoes, peppers, onions and black olives, topped with cheese.
“So, what else is in the file?”
I shook my head, reaching for my wine. “Nothing really.” I took a long swallow, avoiding Mia’s eyes, hoping she wouldn’t sense I was lying.
“Really?” Mia asked, surprised. She reached over to start flipping through it.
I shrugged and focused on my meal. She wasn’t going to find anything. I had already removed the notes from my interview.
The interview I still didn’t remember.
“But,” Mia started to say, her brow furrowed, but she was interrupted by a loud knocking. “Oh, that must be Daphne. Come on in,” she shouted. I heard the sound of the front door opening and closing before Daphne appeared in the kitchen, her red hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, her freckles standing out more than normal on her pale, tired face.
I didn’t think I had ever been so glad to see her.
“Hey. Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner,” Daphne said.
“You’re not,” I said. “Grab a plate. There’s plenty.”
“It’s really good, too,” Mia piped in.
“I believe it. It smells divine. I just ate though. But I will have some of that wine.”
“Be my guest. There’s a glass out for you already,” I said. Daphne fetched it and joined us at the table, blowing a few strands of hair out of her eyes.
“Any news?”
“Nothing about Brittany, unfortunately,” Mia said. “But Daniel brought Becca Jessica’s police file.”
Daphne’s mouth dropped open. “Really? Didn’t see that coming. So, what did it say?”
Mia filled Daphne in not only about the police report, but also about what happened at the search party while I finished eating. I couldn’t help but hope Mia had forgotten whatever it was she was going to ask me about the file.
“You don’t think ... you can’t think Rich and Barry had something to do with it?” Daphne looked aghast.
Mia shook her head unhappily. “No, I don’t believe it. But I also don’t know what to think anymore. Yesterday was just so weird. And, Becca is right—there are holes in the timeline when we don’t know what they were doing. The police report doesn’t shed any light on that.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean they did something.”
“I agree. They couldn’t have done anything,” Mia returned.
“Maybe they didn’t do anything,” I said. “Maybe it was something they saw. Like, what if they saw her getting into a strange car and never reported it or something?”
“No way,” Mia said at the same time Daphne said, “No, they would have said something. “
“Are you sure?” I asked. “What if it would have somehow made them look bad? Or, maybe it wasn’t something that obvious. Maybe it was something subtle and they didn’t even realize that it could have been important. And now, because they never said anything, they’re too embarrassed or ashamed to talk.”
Daphne looked doubtful but Mia’s expression was more thoughtful.
“That would explain yesterday,” Mia said.
“I don’t know,” Daphne said. “It still sounds like a long shot. Did the cops talk to anyone else we didn’t know about? Like, any neighbors or someone driving by?”
“No one who saw anything,” I said.
“Hmm,” Daphne said, tapping her fingers against her wine. “It really is strange how she disappeared without a trace. How is that possible? It seems like someone, somewhere, would have seen something. Anything. Don’t you think?”
“Are you saying she did leave on her own?” Mia asked.
Daphne hesitated. “Noooo. But, if she was sneaking out on her own, it would explain why no one saw anything.”
“But it wouldn’t explain why she didn’t pack right,” Mia argued.
“We’re just going around in circles,” I said. “We need more information. And the way I see it, we have two sources. We can go find Rich and Barry and see if they’ll be more open with one of you. Or, we can work on getting my memory back.”
“God, both of those seem like long shots,” Daphne sighed, rubbing her eyes. “I’m sure if Rich or Barry had information, they would have told the cops, even if they hadn’t told us. As for your memory, we have no idea if you’ll ever regain it, and even if you do, there’s no guarantee we’ll get our answers.”
“You’re right,” I said. “But I don’t know what else to do. And personally, I’d like nothing more than to remember what happened that night.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I found myself wondering. Was that true? Did I really want to remember?
Maybe I should be asking myself if I was ready to remember.
You know.
I thought about the police report. It detailed how, when the police tried to question me the day after Jessica disappeared, all I d
id was scream at them.
Go away. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t remember. You can’t make me remember!
My stomach instantly turned heavy and queasy, the casserole a greasy lump as I thought of the words in the report. I swallowed hard to keep from throwing up.
Why would I say that—you can’t make me remember?
Was there something buried in my subconscious so terrible that I was refusing to remember?
Or was it just the ramblings of a teenage girl who had barely escaped death and didn’t know what she was saying?
Or maybe my mother had whispered something into my ear, something I didn’t want to be true, something I had blocked out and that was the seed of my meltdown?
Until I finally remembered, I wouldn’t know the truth. About anything.
No matter what nightmare was lurking in my subconscious, I needed to know. My self-trust, my self-confidence, even my sanity depended on it.
Knowing couldn’t be worse than not knowing. Could it?
You can’t make me remember.
Outside, the tree branches brushed against the window, and I could practically hear Jessica’s dead corpse laughing at me.
You have no idea what you’re getting into.
Maybe not. Another part of me argued. But, forget my own healing. Even Daphne and Mia’s. What about Brittany?
At that moment, it hit me. There was no more putting it off. I didn’t have a choice.
I never had.
I forced a smile on my face. “Let’s light some candles.”
Chapter 31
Daphne pitched in to help Mia clear the table and put the food away. I carefully stowed my notes on the shelf built into the back of the counter, taking a little more time than necessary to stack them, placing my pen on top.
Daphne wiped off the table as Mia briskly rinsed plates and stacked the dishes. I was still amazed at how quickly and efficiently she moved in the kitchen. Every time I felt like I should help, by the time I opened my mouth to ask, she was already done.
Secrets of Redemption Box Set Page 59