Secrets of Redemption Box Set

by Michele Pariza Wacek

“Now, it seems so stupid,” Barry said. “I mean, honestly. Even with the paranoia, I never saw you treat Jessica badly. And the way CB would follow Jessica around…” he rubbed his forehead. “It was so stupid.”

  “You didn’t tell the police,” I said.

  They both shook their heads.

  “CB could be very … persuasive,” Rich said. “But that still doesn’t excuse us.”

  “But, what about Brittany?” I asked. “Did you think I had something to do with her?”

  They glanced at each other. “Truthfully, I didn’t know what to think,” Barry said. “It didn’t make sense. Why would you do anything to her now, all these years later?”

  “Something wasn’t adding up,” Rich said. “I was starting to think maybe we had it all wrong with CB but he was back in New York. I asked Mia and Daphne and they both said he had gone back a couple of weeks ago. So, I tried to convince myself it was all a coincidence.”

  “We should have said something,” Barry said unhappily.

  Now it all made sense. Why they treated me the way they had. How upset they had been during Brittany’s search party. “I appreciate you telling me,” I said.

  “Thank you. And, yes, I know I wasn’t right back then and that CB can be persuasive, so I get it.”

  Barry nodded, glancing at Rich again. “There’s something else you should know,” he said hesitantly. His frown deepened, and he actually managed to look even more ashamed. “I helped him get between you and Daniel.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He sighed. “The day you and Daniel were supposed to meet? I helped CB make it look like you both stood each other up. My sister called and talked to his mother, pretending to be you, while Daniel was out of the house.

  “So, that’s what happened,” I breathed. Finally, it all made sense.

  “I’m just … so, so sorry,” Barry said. “I thought I was helping Daniel from … well … a bad relationship. That’s how CB talked me into it. But I should have known better. I think even at the time I knew what I was doing was wrong but … well, anyway. I’m sorry.”

  He looked so sad that I found I really didn’t have it in me to be angry. At either of them.

  How could either of them have known the darkness they were facing?

  I put my hand on Barry’s arm. “It’s okay,” I said. “Don’t beat yourself up. We were kids back then. And I’m sure you thought you were protecting your friend.”

  “That’s exactly what I thought I was doing,” he said. “But it still doesn’t make it right.”

  “Maybe not,” I said. “But our list of all the things we did wrong is getting awfully long. Maybe it’s time to tear it up.”

  ***

  Daniel found me on the porch later that night.

  I was sitting on the swing, still processing everything Rich and Barry had told me, when his car pulled up.

  I watched him walk toward me. God, he was hot, dressed in jeans and a grey Door County tee shirt that accentuated the muscles in his chest. It made my heart hurt.

  Too bad our relationship was likely never meant to be.

  “Is this an official or unofficial visit?” I asked when he got closer.

  “Not official, but I do have news.”

  I cocked my head. “Official news?”

  He nodded as he climbed the porch steps and leaned against the porch railing.

  “What is it?”

  “CB is refusing to tell us what he did with Jessica’s body,” he said. “I thought you should know.”

  I sat very still. Even though that wasn’t a surprise, I had still hoped for something different.

  “So, we’re not going to ever know how Jessica died,” I said. “At least not for sure.”

  “It doesn’t look that way,” he said. “Unless something changes, of course.”

  I looked away. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of blood. I did a double take but it was only a ladybug crawling on the wooden slats of the swing.

  “It probably was my fault then,” I said.

  “I don’t know why you would jump to that conclusion,” Daniel said. “The fact that CB refuses to cooperate kind of makes him look guiltier than you.”

  I did it to protect you. I winced. “Maybe you’re right,” I said. “But you didn’t hear him. He certainly sounded like he believed he was protecting me by keeping the body hidden.”

  “Just because he said it doesn’t mean it’s true,” Daniel said gently. “You’ve described an accident, Becca. It wasn’t anything intentional. It was a terrible accident.”

  The lady bug continued its quest across the wooden board, a walking drop of blood. “I hear you,” I said. “I really do. And I’m working on forgiving myself.”

  Daniel cocked his head. “Would you feel less at fault if you had left her alone and defenseless out there?”

  I sighed. “When you put it that way, I suppose not.”

  Daniel turned his head away from me. “If it makes you feel any better, I also feel like it’s my fault.”

  I gave him a sharp look. “How on earth is any of this your fault?”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment. I noticed his dark-blonde hair long and wavy against the back of his neck. It was probably time for a haircut.

  Finally, he turned and met my eyes. “I left you out there. Remember?”

  My eyes widened. “Yeah, but ... I wasn’t nearly as drunk as Jessica.”

  He shrugged. “What if I hadn’t listened and dragged you back? How would that night have changed?”

  I shook my head. “I think you’re taking too much on yourself.”

  “Maybe yes. Maybe no.” He sighed. “Have you spoken to Barry and Rich yet?”

  I nodded. “They were just here.”

  “So, you know, then.” He paused, looking over the yard. “We never talked about CB growing up, but I always felt like something was off with him too. The way he always wanted to be with Jessica. At the time, I told myself he was just like Rich, although I think a part of me knew it was something darker.”

  “God.” I screwed up my face. “Was I the only one who had no clue? What does that say about me? He was my cousin. I knew he was attracted to Jessica, but really, who wasn’t? I didn’t give it a second thought. Now, looking back, I can see all the times he talked about her, even had a picture of her in his room. Granted, it wasn’t just her. It was actually a picture of the three of us—Jessica, me, and Mia. He even had it framed.” I shook my head, feeling the tears of shame and embarrassment well up in my eyes. “I’m such an idiot.”

  “Or, you’re the only one with a good excuse for not saying anything,” he countered. “We sensed something and still didn’t do anything to stop it. There’s a lot of blame to spread around. You’ve got to stop taking so much of this on yourself, Becca. We all played a part.”

  “Now you sound like Mia.”

  He cocked his head. “Yeah, well, Mia is right.” He gaze sharpened as he stared into my eyes. “All of us have to find a way to live with our choices and move on with our lives. So, what are we going to actually do to move forward?”

  The question felt much bigger than it seemed. “I’m trying.”

  His gaze was intense. “Are you?”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes stopped me. “You think I’m not?” The energy crackled between us.

  “If I asked you out, would you accept?”

  I could feel my mouth drop open. This, I didn’t expect. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “But, Daniel,” I sputtered, trying to stay focused as the image of our kiss instantly rose up in my head. I shifted uncomfortably on the swing. “Are you sure? You haven’t even seen me in a week. Plus, what will people say?”

  “Well, there are two answers,” he said. “T
he first has to do with you. I may have an erratic schedule. That’s life with a cop. Can you be okay with it?”

  He was staring at me so intensely, I was having trouble breathing. The electricity seemed to crackle between us. “Probably, but ...”

  “Which leads me to the second answer,” he interrupted. “You’re right. I did avoid you this week. I was trying to sort out how to do my job while being with someone involved in the case. I also thought about how the community might react. I’ve decided that, regardless, I’d like to try. If you’re willing, that is.”

  I bit my lip and went back to watching the ladybug. With all the emotions swirling around inside me, I couldn’t sort out how I felt about anything, really. “I don’t have a problem with either of your answers,” I said at last. “But, Daniel, I’m not so sure this is a good idea. Us dating. I mean, not just because of your job, but because of me. I’ve been divorced twice for God’s sake. My first husband cheated on me and my second tried to have me committed. I wasn’t able to see through CB all these years. I think all of that may be a sign that I’m not all that good at relationships.”

  Daniel shifted his weight and came over to sit next to me. He reached over and gently tugged my chin, so I was looking at him. I found myself struggling to breathe, my stomach a twisted mass of knots. “Maybe it’s a sign you’re human.”

  I tried not to snort. “Most humans aren’t nearly as gullible as I am.”

  He cocked his head. “You say ‘gullible,’ I say caring—always trying to see the good in people.” He took a deep, unsteady breath. “Look, maybe it’s not going to work out. You’ve made mistakes. I’ve made mistakes. But, is there any harm in just trying and seeing what happens?”

  I thought about it, at least as best as I could with him being so close. Every single nerve in my body felt like it was buzzing.

  Maybe he was right. What would be the harm?

  “I guess the worst that could happen is that it’s a complete and utter disaster,” I said.

  He smiled, a genuine smile that lit up his whole face and made my breath catch in my throat. “That’s the spirit.”

  Book 3

  The Evil That Was Done

  by Michele Pariza Wacek

  Chapter 1

  I was elbow-deep in rich Redemption soil when my mother called.

  I’d been spending a lot of time in my garden since CB, my cousin, was arrested a couple of weeks ago. There was something soothing and grounding about surrounding myself with plants, their quiet focus on simply growing … something comforting about burying my fingers deep in the earth, inhaling the sweet scents of flowers and cut grass, and listening to the buzzing of bees and chirping of songbirds.

  Oscar, my black cat, would often join me, lying stretched out on the ground, lazily enjoying the sun. Occasionally, he would pay a little too close attention to a songbird, and I would scold him. He would flick his tail at me in response, his green eyes fixed on mine.

  In the garden, I was at peace.

  Talking to my mother would not be peaceful.

  The phone kept playing its cheerful little song, joyfully letting me know my mom was still waiting for me to pick up.

  I’d only talked to her once since CB was taken into custody, and that was a pretty short call. She’d asked me when I was moving back to New York. I told her I had another call and would talk to her later.

  I sat back on my heels and wiped the sweat from my forehead. Honestly, would there ever be a good time for this conversation? I figured I might as well bite the bullet and get it over with. I picked up the phone and answered it.

  “Hi, mom.”

  “Rebecca? What has been going on out there? I’ve been calling and calling.”

  I got to my feet, rubbing the slight ache in my lower back. “I know. Sorry. I’ve been busy.”

  “Too busy to talk to your mother?”

  I winced slightly at the reproachful tone. “It’s not just you,” I said as I headed over to the wrought iron table to retrieve my lemonade. “I haven’t wanted to talk to anyone.”

  Which was true. Technically. If you didn’t count my friends Mia and Daphne, or my stepdaughter, Chrissy, in the “anyone” category. I had yet to leave the house since it had all happened, other than a single visit to CB in jail.

  Mia and Chrissy, now my roommates, had settled in nicely. They took care of errands and shopping while I focused on the garden and the house. Chrissy handled much of the cooking (thank God). Neither were around much, really. They both worked at Aunt May’s, and when they weren’t working, Mia focused on getting herself ready to attend an online college in the fall, and Chrissy balanced therapy with her friendships.

  Still, even though I spent much of my time alone in the house, I wasn’t lonely. Just knowing I was living with people who cared about me made a huge difference. And, besides, Daphne came over nearly every day.

  My mother sniffed. “I would hope I’m not just ‘anyone.’ But never mind all of that. I assume you’ve been busy packing and getting the house ready to sell. When can we expect you back?”

  And there it was—the moment I was dreading. I took a long drink of lemonade and wiped my mouth. Might as well get it over with.

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “Excuse me? I think we have a bad connection. When did you say you’re leaving?”

  “I’m not.”

  “What do you mean, you’re ‘not’? You’re not what?”

  “Leaving. I’m not leaving.” I clearly and loudly punctuated each word.

  “Rebecca, don’t be ridiculous. Of course, you’re leaving. Why would you stay? There’s nothing for you there.”

  “I have a house.”

  “Which you can sell.”

  “And a stepdaughter,” I continued as if she hadn’t interrupted.

  “Who loves New York! And her real mother is here. I’m sure she misses Chrissy and would love to have her back.”

  I gritted my teeth. Chrissy’s mother most certainly did not miss Chrissy or want her back. The last time I tried to talk to her about her daughter, she basically hung up on me. I wasn’t even sure when Chrissy had last spoken to her.

  “I made a promise to Chrissy that she could stay with me as long as she wanted.”

  “Well, of course you did. That’s what good stepmothers do. And once both of you are back in New York, she won’t need to stay with you any longer. I’m sure she would love to move back home with her mother.”

  No, Chrissy would not love to move back home with her mother. I bit back my response as I could tell the conversation was going nowhere, fast. I took a breath and plowed ahead. “And I have another roommate, Mia, who needs a place to stay while she goes back to school.”

  “A roommate? That’s what’s keeping you in Redemption? I’m sure she could find somewhere else to live.”

  “She just moved in, so I doubt it.”

  “Well, Rebecca, that was pretty irresponsible. Why would you let her move in knowing you were going to leave? Why would you do that to her?”

  “Because, as I just told you, I decided not to leave.”

  “I don’t understand. Why would you make that decision? Don’t you want to come home? Don’t you want your life back?”

  I took a deep breath. “I am home. This is my home. This is my life.”

  “But, but,” my mother sputtered. “You can’t be serious. You grew up in New York. Your family is here. We’re your family. You can’t possibly be putting a ... a roommate before your family? You must come home.”

  “I’m not putting anyone in front of you. New York isn’t that far away. I can come visit.” That was true, even though I had no plans to do so any time soon.

  “You’re not making sense, Rebecca. Why would you choose to stay there? I don’t understand.”

  “This is my home now.” Maybe if I said
it enough times, it would finally sink in, or at the very least, keep her from repeating the same question over and over again. I didn’t know how else to explain the feeling of belonging I now experienced in this house, this town. I had never felt that in New York, despite living there my entire life. This was where I was meant to be.

  Even if that meant finally taking a stand for myself.

  “But we have an apartment waiting for you here. A job.” My mother’s voice sounded genuinely bewildered. I hated that my words brought her pain, but I didn’t know any other way to tell her my truth. “Your brother has been holding that job open for you at his firm. You know that. Why would you give all that up?”

  “I’m ...” Dare I tell her about my desire to start my own business? Would she just belittle my dreams like Stefan, my second (and unfortunately current) husband had? It was still so new, so fragile, I didn’t think I could bear it if she started lecturing me on what a bad idea it was. I decided to keep it simple.

  “They have jobs here, too.”

  “I’m talking about a good job, Rebecca.”

  I felt my spine straighten. “They have those here, too.”

  “Now you sound just like my sister.” Aunt Charlie, my mom’s sister, was the one who had willed both her home and money to me. I still had the house, but the money was nearly gone, courtesy of Stefan.

  “I’m not trying to hurt you or dad,” I said, trying a different tact. “I appreciate what you’re offering me. More than you know. Truly. But it feels like I need to learn to stand on my own two feet. That’s all this is.”

  “Is there a boy?” My mother’s voice grew sharp. “Is that what this is about?”

  “A boy?” I asked in disbelief. Did she not hear a word I had said? “Mom, you do realize I’m over thirty.”

  “Are you dating someone?” My mother continued like I hadn’t interrupted. “Do you think that’s wise? Is your divorce even official?”

  “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later,” I said, hanging up before she could protest any further.

  I knew that wouldn’t be the last conversation we’d have about my living situation, but it was all I could take at the moment.