Secrets of Redemption Box Set

by Michele Pariza Wacek

  “Jonathan didn’t. He married a girl he met shortly after he graduated from high school, and they ended up having a couple of kids. A boy and a girl. It was clear Jonathan wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Then, your aunt walked into his life. And everything changed.”

  Daphne paused to take a long drink of wine. I watched her, a big part of me dreading where this story was going, but knowing I had to hear it.

  “Anyway, according to local rumor, Charlie and Jonathan took one look at each other, and that was that. Their affair was the worst-kept secret around. Everyone assumed it was just a matter of time before Jonathan left his wife for Charlie. But, somewhere in the middle of all that, Jesse and Louise had their huge, blow-up fight, during which I guess Louise told Jesse if he wanted to leave so badly, maybe he should. He stormed out, and that was the last time Louise saw him.

  “Everyone assumed he left after that. It wasn’t until Jonathan disappeared a couple weeks later that the rumors started.”

  The sun disappeared behind a cloud, plunging the backyard into darkness. The birds paused their chirping and singing, so for a few moments, the only sound was the wind rustling through the trees. I tried to swallow, my mouth dry, despite the fact that I had finished the glass of wine in front of me. I reached for the bottle to refill both of our glasses. “Rumors?”

  Daphne didn’t immediately answer as she watched me pour. I got the distinct feeling she was gathering herself for what she was about to say next. “Truly, even for Redemption standards, it just sounds crazy. There was talk that Jesse hadn’t disappeared. That he had been seen drinking with Jonathan that night at The Lone Man Standing, which was a dive bar that had a really ... sketchy reputation. It had been linked to everything from organized crime to gangs to murder. So, along with Jesse disappearing, a waitress who worked there also disappeared around the same time. Then Jonathan. But before the police could properly investigate the whole matter, the bar burned down.”

  My eyes widened. “What?”

  “I know. It’s nuts, isn’t it? You should have heard the talk swirling around. Like Jesse hadn’t left after all—he had been murdered. And maybe Jonathan was the one who murdered him, because he was under Charlie’s “evil” influence. Or maybe it was Charlie who murdered them all herself before burning the bar down.”

  “What ... but ...” I stuttered. “Why would Aunt Charlie have killed Jesse? Or Jonathan? That doesn’t even make sense.”

  Daphne shrugged. “Who knows. I think it was because she was a stranger at that time, mixing up her “concoctions” … so it was easier to blame her than someone who had lived his or her entire life in Redemption.”

  “But it doesn’t make sense. Aunt Charlie couldn’t have done all of that.” I was still having trouble wrapping my head around the affair, much less arson and murder.

  “I agree,” Daphne said. “The whole thing was ridiculous. Clearly, nothing ever came of it, but that didn’t stopped Louise from getting dragged down by all the rumors.”

  “So, what happened to Jonathan? The waitress?”

  “No one knows. I suspect Jesse finally did leave that night. He went to an ATM and withdrew the maximum amount of cash that he could. His neighbors saw him packing up his car, and his landlord said there was a note pushed under the door giving his notice. Whether he stopped for a drink at The Lone Man Standing or not is neither here nor there.”

  My head was whirling. “Wait, Jesse was seen leaving? And Louise still thinks it’s my aunt’s fault?”

  Daphne shrugged. “It’s true he never got in touch with her again after that night. It’s also true no one else in this town ever heard from him again either. Louise even hired a private investigator who couldn’t find anything. No credit card charges, no job records, no new driver’s license. Nothing. So, it’s certainly possible something happened to him that night. But it’s also possible he just ... disappeared. Started a new life, that sort of thing.”

  “You think he wanted to do that? Start a new life?”

  “I have no idea. But it certainly seems more possible than him being murdered at The Lone Man Standing.”

  “Wow.” I thought about that. “If that’s true, I wonder what Louise could have possibly said to him that night to cause him to take off.”

  “Whatever it was, it must have been ugly. As for the waitress disappearing, apparently waitressing wasn’t her only source of income. She was also a prostitute.”

  “A prostitute?”

  “Yeah, there was even talk that the waitressing was just a front for the prostitution. So, it is possible that she picked up the wrong man, and the timing of it was just coincidental ...”

  “Wait, are you saying the bar was a cover for the prostitution?”

  “Maybe. I told you, that bar was super shady. So, again, it being burned down wasn’t a big surprise.”

  I drummed my fingers on the table, watching a fat, yellow bumblebee crawl around a nearby coneflower. “It still seems a little too coincidental, all of that happening at once.”

  “That’s exactly why all the conspiracy theories started. But, as far as I know, no one ever came forward to say they actually saw Jesse at the bar that night. There were lots of people who said they had heard he was there, or that they knew someone who said it, but no one actually admitted to seeing him personally. It’s also possible all the stuff with Rosie and the bar burning down was related, and this thing with Jesse wasn’t, but the timing fit so perfectly, it just became part of the urban legend.”

  People disappearing. Bar burning down. And it all happened right after my aunt moved to town. No wonder Louise thought Aunt Charlie had something to do with it.

  But that didn’t change the fact that Jesse’s actions that final day seemed to indicate his leaving by choice. Or that the bar was shady, and Rosie was a prostitute. Coincidences do happen. The most logical deduction, in my opinion, is that Aunt Charlie had nothing to do with any of it.

  But what about Jonathan? Did I even want to ask? A part of me didn’t. I didn’t want to think of my aunt as a homewrecker. What was she doing having an affair with a married man, anyhow? One who had kids, at that? I definitely didn’t want to think about her sex life.

  On the other hand, Louise still carried a grudge about our family based at least in part on what Aunt Charlie had done.

  I had to know.

  “How does Jonathan fit in?”

  Daphne sighed. “God, I wish I didn’t have to tell you all of this. Apparently, Jonathan asked his wife for a divorce, and she refused. She wanted to stay married for the kids’ sake. According to rumor, Charlie found that out and ended it. Said she finally came to her senses. She wanted him to go home and be a father to his kids. He got mad, and next thing you know, he disappeared.”

  “So, he just ... left?”

  “So it seems.”

  “What about his family?”

  “A year or so later, they moved. I guess they went back to live with her family.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Are we sure they actually moved? Or did they disappear too?”

  Daphne half-smiled. “No, it’s pretty clear they moved. There was a realtor involved, a moving van, the works.”

  “Wow.” It was such an incredible story. I was struggling to wrap my head around it. “Is this why some people don’t like Aunt Charlie?”

  Daphne nodded. “That’s it.”

  “Well, at least that’s one mystery solved.” I rubbed my eyes with both hands, feeling a wave of sadness and defeat wash over me. “Daphne, what am I going to do?”

  Daphne reached over to squeeze my leg. “What does Daniel say?”

  “Hire a lawyer.”

  “Sounds like good advice.”

  “Sure. But like I said, hiring a lawyer requires money.”

  “Can you borrow from someone? Maybe your parents?”

 
I let out a bark of laughter that was devoid of humor. “My parents are blackmailing me into leaving.”

  “What?”

  I hadn’t intended on telling her, or anyone, for that matter, but it was such a relief to finally share the truth with someone that I kept talking. “They gave me an ultimatum. I have until this weekend to get back to New York, or they’ll disown me.”

  Daphne looked bewildered. “But you can’t go. Legally, the cops won’t let you.”

  “I know.”

  “Well, what did they say?

  “She seemed to ... accept it, I guess. But I also told her I’d call her in a few days, when everything will hopefully be cleared up.”

  “So they don’t know about Gwyn.”

  I shook my head. “And I’m dreading telling them.”

  “Yeah, I would be, too. Unfortunately, I think your hands are tied.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  Daphne played with the stem of her wine glass. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you want to stay here? I mean, really stay here? If money wasn’t an issue, would you stay? Or go back to New York? Or somewhere else?”

  Did I want to stay? I rarely considered that question, because it depressed me. It wasn’t my reality. My reality was making choices based on money.

  But Daphne deserved an answer. A truthful answer.

  “If money wasn’t an issue, I definitely wouldn’t go back to New York,” I said. “Honestly, I was never happy there. Ever. But I always felt like I had to be there. Would I stay here or go somewhere else, though?” I paused as I looked around the yard, taking in the quiet breeze gently playing over the colorful blooms and the sound of birds chirping, inhaling the scents of roses and lavender, and watching butterflies flit from flower to flower.

  “This is my home,” I said. “This is where I belong.”

  Daphne’s smile lit up her face, transforming her homey features, and in that moment, she was beautiful. “Then let’s see what we can do to keep you here.”

  Chapter 24

  “You’re running out of time.”

  I was in the kitchen, but there was something wrong. There was no color. It was like being in the middle of a black-and-white picture. Actually, it wasn’t even black and white, but more of a pale, flat grey. It was as if all the brightness and hues had been drained from the room, leaving everything a dirty dishwater shade.

  “You’re running out of time,” Aunt Charlie said again. She, too, was grey, her energy and vitality leached out of her. She was a pile of dry, dusty bones, covered in a brittle, ashen skin.

  “Did you really have an affair with a married man?” I asked her.

  “Not only are you running out of time, but you’re wasting the little time you have,” she said.

  “I want an answer,” I said. “Did you have an affair with a married man? With Jonathan?”

  Aunt Charlie pressed her lips tightly together, the movement causing her skin to flake off like powder. “Now is not the time.”

  “Yes, it is,” I said. “I want to know the truth.”

  “The truth isn’t going to help you, unless you find the jade,” she hissed. “ If you don’t find it, and find it fast, you’re going to lose everything.”

  I could feel my stomach turn over. “How is finding a rock going to help my legal issues?”

  “It’s not a rock,” Aunt Charlie said, her voice rising. More skin flaked off her face. I could see the gleam of her skull. “It’s a crystal.”

  “Crystal, rock, whatever,” I said irritably. “How is that going to help me convince Detective Timmons I’m innocent?”

  “Detective Timmons isn’t looking in the right place,” she said. “Find the jade; solve the crime.”

  I studied her suspiciously. “Are you really trying to tell me that finding something of yours in your house will reveal Gwyn and Ellen’s murderer?”

  Aunt Charlie’s face seemed to crumble, revealing even more of the bones beneath the thin, papery skin. “I did what I had to do,” she said. “I’m not proud of my choices. But I would do it again if I had to.”

  “So, you would choose to sleep with a married man again?” I said disgustedly. “You would choose to break up his marriage again?”

  Aunt Charlie let out a huff, causing more of her skin to disintegrate. Her face was now more skull than human. “Just find the jade, Becca. Then we can talk.”

  “Seriously? You expect me to believe that?”

  “Find the jade. I’ll tell you everything then.”

  “Why don’t you tell me everything now?”

  Aunt Charlie shook her head, her spine snapping and creaking. “First the jade. And don’t wait. You’re running out of time.”

  I sighed loudly, exasperated. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Have I ever lied to you?”

  I stared at her. “All the time. You didn’t tell me about Stefan. Or CB.”

  “I didn’t lie,” she said calmly. “You had to figure out the truth for yourself.”

  “Just like I have to find the jade now?” I snapped back. “What, is there something else I’m going to suddenly ‘remember’ once I’ve found it?”

  Aunt Charlie became very still. “No,” she said softly. “There’s nothing for you to remember. But you need proof.”

  A cold breeze seemed to blow through the room. Goosebumps rose on my arms and back of my neck. “Proof?” I asked, my voice as quiet as hers.

  “The legal system is built on proof,” she said. “That’s why you have to find the jade. Or the only proof that is found will point to your guilt.”

  I swallowed hard. My lips and tongue were numb from the cold. “Where do I find this jade?”

  “Where haven’t you looked?”

  “Nowhere! I’ve been everywhere in this house.”

  She chuckled, a wheezy, groaning type of noise. “If that were true, you would have found it by now.” She reached over, her hand a skeleton, the finger bones clenched into a fist, and touched my forearm. I jerked back, the cold so icy, it felt like I had been burned. “Look where you haven’t. That’s where it is.”

  I opened my eyes. My room was filled with a pale-grey light, but unlike the dirty, lifeless grey in my dreams, it was pearly and shimmering, filled with hope and possibility.

  Oscar stretched next to me, his dark-green eyes blinking. The color of jade.

  God. Is that really what I was going to spend my day doing? Hunting for some rock?

  I could almost hear Aunt Charlie’s voice correcting me—“Not a rock, a crystal.”

  Fine. Whatever. It was still a waste of time—time I didn’t have. I needed to start calling attorneys. Plus, the people were coming to install the new house alarm, and I should maybe even think about hiring a private investigator. Every time I thought of Detective Timmons and his smug face, I couldn’t breathe. It was like a noose tightening around my neck.

  I was running out of time. Aunt Charlie was right. I could feel it.

  I also needed to call my mother and give her an update, as much as I dreaded that. And maybe I needed to do what Daphne suggested, and ask for a loan. Between the lawyer and the investigator, I was going to need some cash ...

  Oscar purred deep in his chest as he rubbed his face against mine, his dark- green eyes staring at me.

  Proof. Aunt Charlie said if I found the jade, I would find the proof I needed to clear myself.

  I sat up, realizing my decision was made. Despite how ridiculous it sounded, I was going to spend the day looking for that jade.

  And praying it really would deliver what Aunt Charlie had promised.

  ***

  I dressed in my last clean pair of yoga pants, which I almost never wore because they were old and stained, and an equally old and stained tee shirt. I pulled
my hair back in a tight ponytail. I had a feeling it was going to be a dirty, dusty day. I headed down to the kitchen to make a plan and a pot of coffee—not necessarily in that order.

  Aunt Charlie said the jade was somewhere I hadn’t searched yet. I immediately thought of the many boxes I had shoved in the basement and garage. I wasn’t looking forward to digging through them, but I had already been through everything else. Other than those boxes, I couldn’t think of a single place I could have missed.

  I decided to start with the basement, as most of the boxes in the garage were from New York, or contained things I had already gone through and determined to be trash. Even if there were a couple of things I missed in the garage, I knew the bulk of what I had yet to go through was stashed in the basement.

  Well, it seemed that today was the day to face those boxes.

  I put my coffee in a to-go cup with a lid, squared my shoulders, and headed down.

  It didn’t take me long to remember why I had been avoiding this task. There was something about the basement that bothered me. Maybe it was the spiderwebs, maybe it was how dark it was even with all the lights on, maybe it was the damp, mildewy smell, maybe it was because I had never lived in a place with a basement before (as I grew up in high rises), or maybe it was a combination of all of those things … but being in Aunt Charlie’s basement always gave me the willies.

  I SO didn’t want to be down there. Even just standing in the room made me feel creepy and disgusting. I could feel my skin aching to crawl off me and curl up in a corner whimpering.

  Stop. I had to get ahold of myself. I was being ridiculous. It was only a basement.

  I opened the first box, only to have a beetle scuttle out. I nearly threw in the towel right then and there, until it occurred to me that prison would be at least this nasty, and probably much worse. I wouldn’t have the option of scurrying away, back into my warm and comforting kitchen.

  Gritting my teeth, I soldiered on.

  Most of the stuff was just junk. Old, musty clothes faintly smelling of mold, water-stained books with bent spines, worn-out stuffed animals with missing eyes and stitches, cheap, discolored costume jewelry that at first filled me with excitement (maybe the jade was here!), but quickly faded upon realizing it was just crap. Most of it, like the box filled with old VHS tapes and a vacuum cleaner that looked older than me (it had to be broken, as the one upstairs wasn’t much newer, so why on earth would Aunt Charlie have kept it? Because she wanted the parts?), I piled in a corner for the trash. Some of it, like a collection of truly hideous, mismatched china, I put in a smaller pile to either donate or sell if, by the grace of God, it was actually worth anything. I placed boxes of things like Christmas decorations that appeared to be in fairly good shape in a different, even smaller pile, to go through at a later date.