If At First (Crimson Cove Mysteries Book 1)

by Tara Brown

  The talking started the moment I was gone. I heaved a sob from my lips as I realized the terrible thing I had done. I had outed their parents for the worst things they had ever done. I had snooped into people’s private things.

  I was the worst person there.

  Blinding tears filled my eyes and I hugged myself and stumbled up the path. I got to the pool house and slipped inside, closing the door and sitting on the couch.

  I sat alone, in the dark and wished I could get back the feeling of safety and security.

  I wished I liked the dark and didn't need Vincent to be in it. I wished I were comfortable in my skin again and not constantly aching for his touch.

  He felt like all the wrong choices for me, though my heart begged me to let go of what he had said about my family. But all I thought about was that he knew the worst thing about us and had kept it secret.

  I sobbed silently, gripping myself.

  A shadow came over me as someone slipped past the window. It was a hooded figure. Their back was turned to me.

  My heart started to race and my mouth went dry as I slid along the huge couch to the side that was in the shadows.

  The dark silhouette of the person moved a little and then stopped. They turned abruptly, staring in the pool house window. I stayed frozen, hoping they couldn't see me. My hands shook as the person moved in the window to where the door was.

  I got up, just as the handle turned, and stepped into the shadows even more. I slid along the wall silently, stepping into the drapes and hiding myself with the thick dark fabric.

  The door opened. I heard the groan but no one made a sound.

  I couldn't see, but I knew I was hidden so long as they didn't turn on the light. My heart raced so loudly I assumed the person in the hood could hear me. I didn't dare swallow as saliva gathered in my parted lips.

  My whole body froze.

  The door creaked more into the dark space and someone else’s breath joined the silence. They breathed hard for a minute and closed the door.

  Somehow, miraculously, I didn't cry. I didn't scream or panic. I stayed perfectly still, not even blinking.

  I listened so hard I could hear my friends at the beach, but I couldn't hear someone else in the space with me.

  Had they left or were they inside, hiding in here?

  How would I get out if they were in here?

  “Linds!” Vincent shouted from outside. I parted my lips to call for him, but I couldn't. In the frozen state of horror, my mouth refused to make a sound. I wanted to warn him in case the killer was here and was going to get him. I wanted to be braver than I was, but I couldn't.

  My throat was so parched it started to hurt, needing the spit I had gathered in my mouth.

  A floorboard creaked as the handle turned again. I cringed with my eyes shut tight. The door opened and closed again, but I didn't dare breathe.

  I didn't know if they were still inside and waiting for me to make a move or what.

  The light flicked on and my throat tightened.

  Every inch of me stiffened.

  “Linds?” Vince said my name softly. “I saw you come in here, you okay?”

  I started to cry, clinging to the drapes and sobbing. Breaths tore from me as I swallowed and gasped. I pulled back the curtain, jumping when I saw him.

  I expected him and still jumped.

  “There you are.” He wrapped his arms around me. “You’re shaking? What’s wrong?”

  I glanced at the window, seeing the shadow there again. “Killer,” was all I could get out.

  His head snapped around and he caught the shadow crossing the window. “Holy shit!” He ran for the door, but the lights cut out and the handle wouldn't turn.

  I started to shake harder as I lowered myself to the floor, waiting for the moment the fire would start to crackle and burn us in there or I would hear the screams of our friends as he killed them all savagely.

  It was our turn.

  “The door is stuck. Is there another door?” Vincent shouted at me, but I sat perfectly still, gripping myself.

  I was never going to be the journalist I had wanted to be. I was never going to be the brave and wonderful girl my mother saw me as.

  I realized then and there that the letter, and the expectations she’d had for me, felt out of my reach. My mother was dead, and I would never make her proud of me.

  I was going to die in there.

  I closed my eyes and let the white noise of Vincent shouting at me, and the sound of the blood pounding in my head, fill my ears.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  He’s a killer of a kisser

  Warmth surrounded me. My eyes were still blurry, but if I blinked a lot I got clear flashes of what was before me.

  I was wrapped in a blanket and Vincent. He gripped me so hard that my skin was bruising, or at least felt like it was. His fingers dug in and his mouth moved fast. I caught words like shock and trauma and police. I smelled things like Louisa and my dad and the beach. As I scanned the room I realized there were many people still here. We weren’t alone. We were in the house. I was safe.

  My heart still raced, but I lifted my head and forced myself to look at Vincent. He stopped talking mid sentence and cupped my cheeks. “Linds?” His words sounded like he was in a tunnel, but I tried to nod my head.

  “You okay?”

  I shook my head. “The killer—”

  “You’re safe. There is no one on the property now.”

  My head jerked to the right, looking at the windows to see if the figure was searching for me. I wasn't safe even if I was in my living room surrounded by people.

  “He’s probably out there.” I blinked and gasped as if surfacing and breathing for the first time in hours. I swallowed and started to twitch my head in a no. “The killer is here still,” I whispered. “He’s here, I’m sure of it.”

  My dad’s eyes widened. “It’s a him?”

  I nodded. I was certain it was a man. “He was big, too big to be a girl. He was broad. His face—it was hard to see but it was a guy.”

  He turned and talked to the guys in suits. The stiffs who should have seen it all coming. Why weren’t they guarding the property? Why did they nap so much? Why weren’t they taking this seriously?

  Louisa gave me a worried smile. “You okay, Linds?”

  My eyes narrowed on her and I immediately started to seethe. Vincent lifted me from the couch. “She seems better, I’ll take her to her room.” He walked around the sofa and carried me out of the room as everything came rushing back in.

  “Put me down.”

  He shook his head, not meeting my gaze.

  “PUT ME DOWN!”

  He walked faster and headed to the games room and then outside.

  The cool breeze coming off the ocean made my skin crawl as my breath hitched on the ocean air. I went numb as soon as I saw the pool house across the yard. I clung to him, shaking my head as tears filled my eyes. “VINCE!” I wriggled, but I couldn't get free of him. “PLEASE DON’T DO THIS!”

  But he ignored me. As if he was on autopilot or completely shut off, he walked straight to the pool house and opened the door. He stepped inside as tears and panic suddenly blinded me. He closed the door, trapping us both inside.

  He slid down the door, sitting on the floor, cradling me by force. I fought him, but he slipped a hand up over my lips and held me so tight I couldn't move at all except to flutter my feet.

  It was then I had a dark and terrible thought. One that had points and clues and moments of clarity that seemed to fit perfectly.

  I started shake and went quiet so I could think of a way to escape him—the one I had let touch me and kiss me, and the one I had let read my mother’s letter.

  All of the moments that proved my greatest fears became loud inside my head, listing off:

  · Of course he had been the person calling me outside the window as the dark figure had appeared and then disappeared.

  · He knew to go to Lainey’s house
after she taunted the killer. Maybe he had done it to make himself look really innocent or to make me take him off my list. He had to know he was on it. Of course he was.

  · He was drunk at the party but it could have been an act. I never asked where he had gone after I left him cupping his balls on the docks.

  · He texted me while he watched me sleep.

  · He had access to my house at all times.

  · His liking me was an act to get close to me to use me. His feelings weren’t real. I was a pawn somehow in this.

  · Vincent was the killer.

  Silent tears and soft whimpers slipped from me as he started to speak in a hushed tone, “When I was fourteen I learned how to drive. The first few months were fun, learning how to predict what a vehicle does in all types of weather. I loved driving and I loved pushing the limits. But the real training didn't start until I was closer to fifteen.”

  I shuddered, shaking my head, uncertain of where this was going. Uncertain of how to survive this moment.

  “One night, we were doing a course through a city. I got to go on a movie set in Chicago and drive a cool set car. It was a Lamborghini and I thought I could handle it. I sped through the raceway like a maniac, maybe showing off a little ‘cause I was too young to actually be driving so I wanted them all to see how good I really was.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “It had been raining, and I wasn't as good of a driver as I pretended I to be. I skidded, lost control, and crashed into a building.” He sucked his breath. “I don't remember what happened; I know the car caught fire. I was stuck. I couldn't get out and there were flames all around me. I screamed and screamed and then everything was black, and when I woke I was in the hospital. Somehow someone had gotten me out, and I had a broken wrist to show for the entire thing.” He laughed softly.

  His soft story made attempts at calming me down, but I swallowed them and continued to remind myself he was dangerous and I was in trouble. I had to find a way to knock him out or stab him with something. I didn't even think I could stab someone. I needed to scream but his hand was still over my mouth. I could bite him.

  His eyes fell on me, glinting in the dark. “The next day my instructor made me get behind the wheel of another Lamborghini. I fought it, I even cried at one point. I tried everything I could to not drive that car but he made me. I flashed my wrist and said it was impossible to drive. He laughed and made me do it. And the next day he made me drive again. And it went like this for a week before I was comfortable with the car and was driving it just how I used to. I learned about my limitations, but I also learned to conquer my fears.”

  He scanned the dark room. “This is just a building. It isn’t anything you need to fear. You need to come in here every day and take back your power.”

  I started to cry softly, making sounds and breathing raggedly. He wasn't the killer, just crazy. Relief filled me as maybe a little pee left me. I shook my head, breathing through his fingers as he removed them.

  He stood up, sliding back up the door and lifting me with him, setting me on my feet. I trembled as I clung to him. “This is nothing but a dark room, Linds. You have to get back behind the wheel or you will never drive again.”

  He flicked on the lights and I flinched, shying away from the room I had once been completely comfortable with. When I was little it was my dollhouse. When I was twelve it was my slumber party house. Recently, it had become the place people went to make out during pool parties.

  “Whoever is doing this to us is trying to strip us of things, strengths. I see that now. This is a game for them. We cannot let that happen. If they wanted us dead, I think we would be dead. Because up to this point we haven’t been prepared for them. They are playing with us. But now that we see that, we can take back some of the power.” He flicked the lights off again and I nodded weakly. It would take me some time to get back to hiding in the dark and feeling safe, but Vincent was right. I couldn't give up.

  I reached over and took his hand in the dark, squeezing. “Thank you.” He had scared me straight, proving his point. I was scared of the boogeyman suddenly. Something I had laughed at as a little girl.

  I let him pull me from the room and we walked back into the house. When we got inside the games room I paused. “Louisa—I have to tell my dad it’s okay for him to kick her out.”

  Vincent’s eyes lowered. “I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

  I shook my head. “No. I understand. I never told anyone any of the secrets I knew. I didn't want to hurt them.”

  He lifted my jaw, brushing his lips lightly on mine and whispering, “I would die before I hurt you on purpose.”

  I believed him.

  He was a joker and a pervert and so many other bad things, but the good traits in him were beyond amazing and they might have even outweighed the bad.

  He remembered what my mom smelled like. He risked himself to save people from fires, even though he had nearly burned to death once. He made me get behind the wheel again.

  I was finished with doubting him. So I leaned into him, melding until it felt like we were one. “I love you, Vince. I think deep down I always knew I had feelings for you, but I think because you were Sage’s and I believed I could never get a guy who was so—”

  “Rude, arrogant, destructive—”

  “Intense.” I lifted my eyes to meet his and nodded. “You are intense and I think I always saw myself as a different kind of mess, not the kind that would match you. You match Sage with your stylish ways and how you do all the right things when people are looking, but do all the wrongs when they’re not. And you’re confident and cocky so when you do get caught for something bad you shrug it off. I’m not like that.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but I pressed my finger over his soft lips. “I liked that we played cat and mouse and we mocked each other, and I loved the level of comfort I had with you. I just never realized what those feelings were ultimately attached to.” I blinked and said it because my mother’s voice inside my head made me, “They were always attached to my heart. I remember my mother loving you. She always said what a sin it was that your parents didn't see what a great little boy you were. I thought she was crazy. But now I think she was adept at seeing people.”

  He sighed and nodded. “We don't have to conquer the world, Linds. But we have to be together. You see that, right?”

  “I do. I hate that you and Sage have so much baggage and that’s always going to be a thing. I am the girl who broke the best-friend code. I love Sage and I would never hurt her.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I wish you could see inside my heart and know how little you are breaking the code.”

  I stood on my tiptoes, lifting my other hand to his face and pulled him down to me. “I think I see you for the first time.” I closed my eyes and kissed him with everything I had. He scooped me up and set me on the barstool. His arms wrapped around me as he pressed himself against me.

  “Linds!” my dad called to me.

  Vincent pulled back, separating us and yet still heaving his breath and looking at me like he might eat me whole.

  Dad hurried into the room, giving us both a look. “Oh, sorry. I didn't know you were in here. I thought you were in your room, but you weren’t there and I was worried.” He gave me a look and I saw so many things in it.

  Vincent leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll wait out there.” He walked from the room, nodding at my father respectfully as he left.

  My dad rushed to me, hugging me until all my breath whooshed from me and my back cracked a little. “I don't know what the hell is going on, but I was so scared.”

  I nodded, hardly able to move and muttered into his chest, “Me too.”

  He pulled back, gripping my arms. “What happened?”

  “I came up from the beach and went into the pool house. I was sitting there and I saw a figure outside—a guy’s face—but I couldn't make out details. He was looking in the windows, like he had seen me come in there. I hid in the shadows and then i
n the drapes, and he came inside I think. I heard the door and then I heard Vince calling me. Vince came inside, and he turned on the light and the killer wasn't there, but we were locked in and the lights cut out.” I frowned, realizing that was the last of my clear memories. “I think I blacked out.”

  “You went into shock, Lindsey Marie. You were pale and your pulse dropped and Vincent wouldn't let go of you.”

  I sighed and shook my head. “I don't remember that. What happened after I blacked out?”

  He sighed and ran his hands through his thick hair. “Vince was screaming and the lights had cut out and there was a pool chair under the handle on the outside of the door. The security guys searched the property but they didn't find anything. The breaker on the pool house had been switched off, but other than that and the pool chair, we didn't find a single thing out of place.”

  “We need to get cameras in the house.”

  He shook his head. “Louisa doesn’t like them, dear. And I’m not fond either.”

  “I don't care what she likes. I suspect she might be behind some of this.” I couldn't stop the rest of it from falling out, “Do you love Louisa, Dad?”

  He winced and shrugged. “She’s—well, I mean one day you’re going to be gone to college and it’ll just be me here alone.”

  I gave him a look and I muttered, “There’s nothing wrong with being alone.” I hopped off the barstool and walked to the hallway. “Did you call the police?” When he didn't answer me I glanced back at him. “Dad?”

  “We have a situation. It’s delicate and being handled.”

  “Let’s agree not to lie to each other anymore. You don't love Louisa and I can read your face like a book.” My insides tightened. “What happened?”

  “Henning was murdered right after Gerry and I found out it was him who told the Blacks everything. He was getting revenge on us for cutting him out of the business recently. He had tried to work with us but we didn't like his ethics. He was bankrupt and desperate so he went for the Black family fortune and connections to pull himself out. He’s the one who found the land deal in South Carolina for the Van Harkers.”