Secrets of Redemption Box Set

by Michele Pariza Wacek

  “Call Redemption Lock and Key,” Mia said. “It’s a father-and-son shop. They’ve lived here for years. They may be able to help with recommendations for the alarm system, too.”

  “Done,” I said, reaching for my phone as I heard a text notification.

  It was my mother. When can we expect you?

  My hands went from cold to hot. Sweaty, actually. I wiped them off on my yoga pants.

  I was going to have to tell my mother what was going on.

  The doorbell rang. Both of us froze, and I knew Mia was thinking the same thing I was—what if it’s Ellen’s killer? Had he followed me home after all?

  Mia stared at me, her eyes wide. “Expecting someone?”

  “I ... ah ...” Then I remembered. “It’s probably the cops,” I said. “They said they’d be by today to pick up my computer.”

  Mia briefly closed her eyes, letting her breath out in a huff. I decided to prioritize the alarm system installation and lock change. I’d figure out how to pay Mia back for it later, especially if I ended up selling the house.

  Maybe, I mused as I went to answer the door, I could simply let Mia live here, rent free, until she graduated. After all, if I went home to New York, I wouldn’t need the money right away. I’d have an already-paid-for apartment and a job. With an alarm system and new locks, Mia would feel safe. Plus, without me there, she was bound to feel even safer.

  One thing at a time, I told myself, as the doorbell rang again. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” I muttered to myself. I’d deal with the cops first. Then my mother.

  I opened the door.

  “Took you long enough,” Daniel said.

  Chapter 16

  “I ... uh,” I stammered. “You’re not the cop I was expecting.”

  He smiled, but there was no humor behind it. “And which one were you expecting?” He wore the same outfit he had on the night before—faded jeans and a white tee shirt. His hair was mussed, and his face was dark with stubble. I wondered if he had slept at all.

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “Are you here to pick up my computer?”

  He shot me a look. “I’m here because we need to talk. Are you going to let me in?”

  “Oh, sure,” I said, backing away from the door. “Coffee?”

  “God, yes,” he said, following me to the kitchen. “Oh, hey, Mia.”

  “Morning, Daniel,” she said. “Nice to see a friendly face.”

  “Maybe not so friendly,” he said darkly, staring at me.

  Uh oh. “I’ll get your coffee,” I said quickly, as Mia grabbed her cup and stood up. “I’m going to go ... get ready,” she said. “Becca, let me know about the alarm system.”

  Daniel raised his eyebrow at me as I handed him his coffee. “Alarm system?”

  “As Mia has correctly pointed out, someone who is at least involved with Ellen’s death is following me around. I think it’s prudent to get an alarm system installed and the locks changed.”

  Daniel sipped his coffee. “‘Prudent,’ you say. Well, I guess it’s better late than never to be prudent about your safety.”

  I sighed. “You’re angry with me.”

  “Now why on earth would you think that?” he asked. “Being blindsided by the woman you thought was becoming your girlfriend in the middle of the night is certainly nothing to get angry about.”

  I blinked stupidly at him. “You want me to be your girlfriend?”

  Daniel’s eyes went wide. “Are you kidding me? That’s what you took away from what I just said?”

  “Well, uh, it’s just I didn’t think we’d progressed that far,” I mumbled.

  Daniel put his coffee down on the table and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Becca, do you understand how much trouble you’re in right now? You found a dead body. In the middle of the night. In the middle of nowhere. And you have this, this uncorroborated, bizarre story about how you ended up there!”

  “But the story is true.”

  “But it doesn’t sound true,” Daniel said. “It sounds crazy.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said slowly. “Are you saying I’m seriously suspected of killing Ellen?”

  “Right now, what I’m saying is you’re the only suspect,” Daniel said.

  “Oh my God.” My knees started shaking and I jerkily lowered myself into a chair. “Oh my God. Seriously?”

  Daniel ran his hands roughly through his hair and sat down as well. “Seriously.”

  “But ... what do I do?”

  “We need to find some proof to corroborate your story,” he said grimly. “Did anyone else see this figure following you ever? Like Mia or Daphne? Or even Chrissy?”

  I shook my head.

  “What about the truck?”

  “No.”

  “Did you tell anyone about what you were seeing? Before last night?”

  I slumped in my chair. “No.”

  “How about the emails? Did you tell anyone about the emails?”

  “No.”

  “Did you get out of the car at all last night? Walk over to the trunk?”

  “No! I told you, I drove away and called you.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Becca, if they find any of your DNA or fingerprints by that trunk ...”

  “I already told you, I didn’t go near it,” I said, struggling to keep the ragged edges of my temper in check. I forced myself to take a deep breath. He has a right to be miffed, I told myself. “There was no way I was getting out of my car by then.”

  “Okay,” he said, but it didn’t sound like he completely believed me. “Is there anything else you aren’t telling me?”

  I stared into my coffee. “You don’t trust me.”

  “I could say the same to you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly at the end. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “No, it wasn’t like that,” I said. “I just told you, I didn’t tell anyone.”

  “But I’m not anyone,” he burst out. “I thought ... well it doesn’t matter what I thought, I guess.”

  He picked up his cup and angled his face away from me, but not before I saw the hurt etched there. My anger dissolved, leaving me feeling sick.

  “It wasn’t ... I didn’t ...” I stopped and tried again. “It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you,” I said.

  “Then why wouldn’t you tell me? I’m a cop, for God’s sake.”

  “And that’s why!”

  He shook his head, refusing to meet my eyes. “I don’t understand.”

  “Look, I knew you were talking to Gwyn,” I said. “Or Gwyn was talking to you.”

  He glanced up, surprised. “Are you saying you were jealous?”

  I squirmed. “Not ... well, maybe a little,” I admitted. “I saw you two talking at the memorial service.”

  He looked puzzled. “Talking to Gwyn? I don’t remember that.”

  “It was after the service,” I said. “I was in line to leave the church. You were in the lobby.”

  Daniel’s face cleared. “Oh, yeah I guess we did talk then.”

  “And, after all that happened with Louise, and her clearly wanting me to leave Redemption, I don’t know.” I rubbed my face with my hands. “I guess I was worried you might start to believe I was actually capable of stalking Gwyn.”

  He started shaking his head. “You really think so little of me.”

  “It’s not that,” I blurted out. “I thought they would wear you down.”

  “Wear me down?”

  I raised my hands helplessly. “Just ... everything. Louise. Gwyn. Other people who didn’t want me here. I thought they would just keep at you and at you until,” my voice dropped as I struggled to keep my tears from falling, “until it was easier to believe them than me.”

  Daniel ran his hands through his hair roughly. “Oh God, Becca. You’re focus
ing too much on a few negative people. There are a lot of people here who don’t want you to leave, who think Louise is just stuck in the past. That has made her bitter and vengeful.”

  I raised a hand to stop him. “That may be true,” I said. “But I’m trying to explain why I didn’t tell you. I thought if I could just get proof, then all of this would be fine.”

  “You still could have told me,” he said. “We could have gotten proof together.”

  I shook my head. “The emails said to come alone and not tell anyone. I didn’t want to risk the person getting cold feet and not showing.”

  “But the risk to yourself,” Daniel said. “Didn’t you consider what a dangerous game you were playing?”

  I explained how I thought it was Louise and CB behind everything. “Which is another reason I didn’t tell you,” I sighed. “Because if it was CB trying to help me, I didn’t want to get him in trouble any more than he already was.”

  “You know how crazy that sounds,” Daniel said, but his voice was gentle.

  I put my head in my hands. “I know. I know I shouldn’t want to defend him, but it’s still difficult for me to get my head around who he really was. I keep remembering the cousin who was always there for me, no matter how bad things got.”

  Daniel sighed and reached over to put his hand over mine. “I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me. After all, Chrissy is living here again, too.”

  I half-smiled. “I guess I’m a bleeding heart, eh?”

  He didn’t return the smile. “A bleeding heart that could get herself hurt. Or worse, if she’s not careful.”

  I took a deep breath. “You’re right. I should have told you. I should have done a lot.”

  “Yeah, you should have.” Daniel gave my hand a squeeze before removing it, leaving me feeling cold and alone. “You really got yourself into a mess this time.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Cooperate,” Daniel said simply. “And start looking for a good lawyer.”

  Oh no. I slumped over. Lawyers cost money. Money I didn’t have. Not to mention that I had a pretty lousy track record with lawyers. “You really think it’s going to come to that?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t think it will hurt to have a name to call in case all hell breaks loose.”

  I thought about the latest text from my mother. I had no choice. I was going to have to call her. “Is there anything you can tell me? Anything you know?”

  “I’m not on the case,” he said. “This is Detective Timmons’ show.”

  “What can you tell me about him?”

  “He’s a good cop,” Daniel said. “Fair. Tough. He’s definitely going to turn over every stone.”

  Which meant poking around in my history. Oh God.

  “Even though I’m not officially part of the investigation,” Daniel said. “I’d still like to know what exactly happened. Do you mind telling me? From the beginning.”

  “Of course,” I said. “Let me refill my coffee first. Want some?”

  “Sure.”

  I got us both more coffee before repeating pretty much everything I had told Mia that morning, only skipping over the part about thinking the figure may have been in the house.

  After all, I was changing the locks. And installing an alarm system. Even if there was someone out there following me, he wouldn’t be able to get in anymore. And if I told Daniel, all I would do is worry him even more than he already was.

  “So these emails,” he said when I finished. “They’re anonymous, right? What made you think they were from CB?”

  “Let me go get my computer and show you,” I said, pushing back from the table. “I need to get it anyway. Someone will be by shortly to take it.”

  I fetched my computer from The Studio and brought it down to the kitchen table. “I’m surprised they aren’t here yet,” I said as I opened it up and navigated to my email. “But it works out because now I can show you ...”

  My voice drifted off as I looked for the last email in my inbox. Where was it?

  Daniel leaned over my shoulder. “I don’t see it.”

  “Neither do I,” I said as I clicked around. “I didn’t think ... oh wait. Maybe I moved it.” I opened up my CB folder.

  Empty.

  Stupidly, I stared at my screen. “That can’t be,” I whispered.

  Daniel looked at my computer and then back at me. “What? What is it?”

  “The emails. They’re gone.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t delete them? Maybe check the trash.”

  I clicked over to the trash bin and searched. No trace.

  “Maybe they’re in a different folder,” Daniel suggested, but I was already clicking through them myself.

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “They were just here.”

  “Could someone have accidentally deleted them?” Daniel asked. “Maybe Mia or Chrissy? Without understanding their significance?”

  “Mia and Chrissy have their own computers,” I said. “There’s no reason to log onto mine. But even if they did, I can’t imagine why they would be looking through my email.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t accidentally delete them?”

  “Positive,” I said, but in my head, I was already questioning myself. Was it possible that I accidentally deleted them? I had had that terrible conversation with my mother with my email open. Could I have deleted the emails without thinking?

  The doorbell rang. “Oh God, that’s probably someone to pick up the computer,” I said, starting to feel frantic. “But the emails aren’t here. What do I do?”

  “Take a breath,” Daniel said. “Go answer the door. Let’s see who it is.”

  I took a breath. “But if it’s ...”

  Daniel gently put his hand on my shoulder. “Becca, it’s going to be okay,” he said. “Go answer the door.”

  I wanted to argue with him. Wasn’t he the one who had already told me I was in a lot of trouble? That no one believed my story? And now this? My one hard piece of evidence, the emails, were missing.

  I was going to end up in jail.

  As I suspected, a cop was at the front door. “Ma’am? I’m here for the computer.”

  God, he looked young, with his short, dark hair and clean-shaven face. Was the police force recruiting in high school these days or something? Yet another cop who didn’t look old enough to drive.

  “Come in,” I said. “The computer is in the kitchen.”

  I led the way back, trying to figure out how I was going to explain the missing emails.

  Daniel stood up and introduced himself to the cop, shaking his hand. “We discovered something this morning,” he said.

  “The emails are missing,” I blurted out. “I don’t know what happened to them.”

  “Where did they go?” the cop asked.

  Didn’t I just explain that? Probably not a good tactic to make this cop angry, I realized. Even if he does look like he’s twelve. “I don’t know,” I said. “That’s the problem. They were here yesterday, but now they’re not.”

  Daniel closed my laptop and shot me a hard look. “Have the techs check for tampering,” he said, handing the laptop to the cop (kid). “If Detective Timmons has any questions, he can call me or Becca.”

  The cop glanced at both of us before taking the computer and handing me a receipt. I walked him back to the front door.

  “In a lot of cases, technicians can recover deleted files,” Daniel said when I returned to the kitchen. “The fact that those emails have been deleted may actually help your case. It may prove you do have a stalker.”

  “But, how could he have deleted my emails?” I asked. “I saw him last night. Twenty minutes away. Wait a minute.” The enormity of what was happening me. “He has been in the house! He must have broken in sometime last night and deleted those emails.”

&
nbsp; “Hold on,” Daniel said. “First off, there are ways you can access people’s computers without physically touching them. He didn’t have to break in to delete them, if it truly was him.”

  But I wasn’t hearing Daniel. All I heard in my head was the click of the door. Oscar hissing. “But what if he was in the house?”

  “Do you have any other reason to think that was the case?”

  “I didn’t,” I said. “At least, not at first. Mia has been hearing footsteps, but I hadn’t. And there was one night where I thought I heard a door close, and Oscar hissed, but all the doors were locked. Oh my God, what if he really was in the house?!”

  “Slow down,” Daniel ordered, putting his hands on my shoulders and guiding me to a chair as I fought to control my breathing. I couldn’t think. Everything was racing inside me. “What are you talking about?”

  His hands were warm, gentle, and comforting on my shoulders. I was shivering so hard, I didn’t think I could form any words. He kept his hands on me, steadying me. I breathed in his musky, masculine scent, willing my pulse to slow.

  Daniel patiently watched me, waiting for me to get myself under control. “Now tell me,” he said gently but firmly. “What is going on?”

  I managed to get the story out. About how I thought I heard the click of a downstairs door and Oscar hissing. How Mia and I searched the house but found nothing. How all the doors were locked. How I thought I saw a shadow, but dismissed it as being a figment of my imagination. How, since then, Mia has heard footsteps at night, even though neither Chrissy nor I have.

  He was in the house. A killer was in my house.

  How would I ever feel safe again?

  The more I talked, the darker Daniel’s face became. “You didn’t think to tell me this either?”

  “I ... I didn’t think it was related,” I said.

  “You just said you thought you saw a shadow outside. That’s very relevant.”

  “I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination or not,” I started to explain, but then I stopped myself. It was time to come clean. No more lying. “That’s not completely true,” I sighed. “I didn’t want to worry you.”