by Landra Graf
“Thanks for getting me out of there,” she said as she walked into the living room.
He followed her, turning on the fan and main light. She’d wandered near the fireplace, still dazed, face swollen from crying.
“No thanks needed. That’s what I do. I rescue.”
She leaned against the mantel. “Yes, you do, but I think I’m good for now. If I need any additional rescuing, I’ll let you know.”
“I’ll have my white horse at the ready.”
He moved closer to her, the smell of her filling him up. Even with tear-stained cheeks, she looked beautiful in her black dress, her hair pulled back from her face. He was good for more than rescuing, especially in the comforting department. And, hell, he needed some comfort, too, after seeing his ex ripping into a pillar of the town as if his arm were a turkey leg.
“Do you think you could take me to Dr. Mason’s in the morning?”
“I guess I can, but why don’t you just call?”
“It’s more than a phone call can deliver. I need closure and to understand. I’ve got a degree that includes basic medical and biology training. We’ve got to know how those chemicals you’re fooling around with affect people. What happened tonight doesn’t make sense.” She stood tall now, arms crossed and green eyes sparkling with frustration. In many ways, she acted like Rose, determined to discover the solutions to their problems. Except the ones he wanted her to solve, like how they could expand on the feelings stirred up by their kiss.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
He didn’t want to, but she’d go alone without him. Something about the whole situation with Rose struck him as off. The horror film mentality aside, he wouldn’t mind learning more from the good doctor about Rose’s illness and death. He especially wanted to ask why his ex awoke from the dead and how she had removed herself from a body freezer in the doc’s basement.
“Emma?” Edy’s voice sounded in the main hallway, and, within seconds, Em’s father and mother charged into the living room. Jason took a step back, letting Mrs. Fay slide in and wrap her daughter in a hug. “I’m so sorry, honey.”
“Jason.” Herb gave him a respectful nod.
“Sir. I was just getting ready to say good night.”
“No worries there. I’m glad you brought our girl home safe. Your father did wonder where you were. I spoke with him and the sheriff. Doc’s patching Fowler up now. Peter, the deputy who lost the arm, died from blood loss.”
Em stepped out of her mom’s embrace with a worried expression at the mention of the sheriff. “That’s awful. Is the sheriff all right?
“All right, but shaken. He just shot the daughter of one of his closest friends, so I can’t say he’ll feel perfect anytime soon. And losing Peter won’t be easy, but we’ll see.”
Jason could understand the feeling of acting out of character and doing something you were compelled to do versus wanted to do. The memories of the pain, the pills, and the shakes assailed him. Deciding to leave without announcing his departure, he walked out of the room.
***
Emma tried to close her eyes for the twentieth time, but again came the image of Rose growling, her face contorted like some inhuman snarling animal, and Emma shivered in fear. She needed something, anything, to rid the visual from her mind. The only other thought she’d been able to conjure was Jason’s face, a flare of light in his deep, ocean-blue eyes, after the kiss they’d shared in Rose’s living room. Her heart began to race, guilt flooding her gut at her selfish desires. Either way, thanks to nightmares or sensual dreams, she wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.
Chapter Five
For the princess was so beautiful and well-behaved and amiable and wise that everyone who knew her loved her.
The smell of fresh-brewed coffee propelled Emma, exhausted and fresh from the shower, down the stairs. The hot water she’d emerged from minutes before had barely washed away the first layer of fogginess.
Her nightmarish dreams kept playing over and over; Rose attempting to eat her and ripping her arms to shreds. The images hadn’t looked pretty—her friend far worse for wear than the night before, her skin rotted from the bone, arms reaching out. She shook the final thought away as she rounded the corner and entered the kitchen.
“You okay, honey?” Her mom thrust a coffee cup toward her.
She latched onto the cup and inhaled deep. “Uh-huh, as soon as I get this coffee in me.” After a few sips, she took a seat at the table, and the synapses began to fire. “Any news on the sheriff?”
Her dad stood at the stove, flipping pancakes, the smell of warmed maple syrup wafting past her nose. Breakfast in the Fay house could energize a weary army. Her stomach let out a growl, reminding her that the cheese and crackers from the night before had been inadequate.
“I spoke with the mayor around seven this morning. Fowler is down with a fever at Mason’s.” Her dad placed a plate of pancakes in front of her. Their eyes met, and she could tell whatever he had to say next, she wouldn’t be happy about. “Emma…I— No, your mother and I think it’s best for you to stay away from the doc’s. He still doesn’t know what Rose had, but Doc swears she was already gone when you were at his house. There’s a bit of a medical mystery around how she could have been up and moving last night.”
She shook her head, pissed at them for trying to stop her and even more upset because she knew who’d told them about her plans. “Good reason for me to be there. I’m a biochemical engineer. What if this is something she got exposed to, a weird chemical from the plant or something else?”
“Then you can let someone else take care of it.” Her father slammed his hands on the counter. She understood the situation scared him, but, with the sheriff sick, perhaps Rose’s illness was catching. The fever and death rattle had obviously been a ruse, the illness forcing her into a state of hibernation. The theoretical possibilities were pinging around her brain by the dozen and at the speed of light.
“I know you want me safe, but I can’t stand by and not discover the cause of my friend’s death. I need closure. Do you understand that?”
Her dad turned away, shoulders tensed and fists still clenched. She wished he understood her desire to know for the sake of moving on and the sake of forgiving herself for wanting Jason, except she’d never admitted the last little bit to anyone. Plus the need to know operated like some strange curiosity niggling at her brain the same way a complicated chemistry problem would. This whole situation may have been karma for her carrying a secret torch for her friend’s ex. Shoving another bite of pancakes into her mouth, she hoped to silence the argument by stuffing her face. A glance at her mom told her she’d get no support from that corner since she’d already edged her way out of the kitchen. Most likely, Edy Fay had initiated the topic of this debate.
“No, I don’t understand.” No such luck.
He turned off the stove and moved to place the skillet in the sink. “I don’t see how you justify putting yourself on the line without thinking about what the other people who care about you are feeling. It’s selfish.”
“I don’t think it’s selfish.” Recognizing her white knight’s voice, she shifted in her seat. Jason stood at the entrance to the kitchen. He looked as exhausted as she did but still gave her a small smile. “Sorry, sir, but I believe your daughter is the exact opposite. I also know the desire for closure and the need to come to terms with the cause of your pain.”
Her face flushed. He’d heard every word she said. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been here for an hour or so, sipping coffee in the living room. You said you needed me to take you to Doc’s this morning, and your mom said you were almost done with breakfast.”
Her own personal polo-and-jean hero, dressed every bit the modern warrior, stood in her doorway, sipping the last of his caffeine and defending her from her father. She wanted to either drool or thank him. Of course, her inner smartass beat all good intentions to the ground. “I didn’t mea
n you had to show up at the crack of dawn.”
“True.” He took another mouthful of coffee and swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement. Clean shaved and everything. Damn. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Her father stayed quiet and scrubbed the pan in the sink. Frustration still lined his face, and a fresh wave of guilt, an ever constant companion these days, washed over Emma. She shoved it aside, resolved to openly defy her father again. The same argument from years ago popped into her head….
“I’m an adult now, Daddy. I can make my own choices.”
“Yes, but your choice is wrong.”
“I don’t think being over five hundred miles away from you is wrong.”
She couldn’t live in the past, and, in times like these, she trusted her gut. Hiding behind pain and remaining ignorant about the truth didn’t fit her nature either. Gut instinct told her solving the mystery remained the best possible choice. A few more fork-loads of pancake, and she’d finished her small stack. “I’m ready.”
Putting her plate on the counter next to the sink, she gathered her strength, leaned up on her tiptoes, and kissed her dad on the cheek. “I know you think I make all the wrong decisions, that I do things just for me, but something tells me stepping up to the plate this time is different. This is about all of us. I feel it. Regardless, I love you no matter what.”
She turned away and headed for the door. There was no reason to look back and see the effect her words had wrought no reason to dwell. “I’ll be in the car,” she said, passing Jason and exiting the room. Maybe her dad could forgive her at some point for taking her own path.
“She’s the most stubborn creature I’ve ever met,” Herb said with a shake of his head as Jason set his empty coffee cup on top of Emma’s plate. “You’ll keep her safe for me?”
Jason lifted his head from the Charmed in Charming coffee cup to stare Herb in the eye. How do I convey the word’s ‘with my life’ to a father? He could’ve said them, but such a declaration meant admitting to a depth of feeling that might not be reciprocated. So, instead, he swallowed the last of the coffee in his mouth and replied, “To the best of my ability, sir.”
“Respectful and straightforward. I like this grown-up version of you, prince.” Em’s dad slapped his shoulder with a soapy hand. “Don’t let her give you any grief. I’ll let you get going.”
Grief…. Let’s hope we don’t experience any more.
Jason walked out of the house, dragging his sunglasses into place from their perch on the top of his head. Emma sat in the passenger seat of his car. The sun gave a glow to her hair, a fine contrast to her creamy, flawless skin. Though her puffy eyes remained, he found them part of her allure, part of her character. The image stunned him, and he silently wished he could bottle up the momentarily peaceful look on her face as their eyes met. She seemed equally appreciative of his appearance, giving him a shy smile.
“Are you smiling for someone special, or is that a natural reaction to seeing me?” he asked.
Her eyebrows scrunched down. The beaming look disappeared. “Ooh, why do you have to do that?”
“Do what?” he asked, sliding into the driver’s seat.
“The thing where you make some arrogant comment or cheesy pick-up line. Really? I thought you were better than that.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she tried to change the mood, to avoid the moment…again.
He whirled on her, removing his sunglasses and running his eyes over the course of her entire body. Delectable. The only word to describe what he saw. Except they didn’t have time for him to give her a detailed account of how she affected him since they needed to get a move on. She shivered. His scrutiny was causing a reaction.
“Then let’s get real.” He ran a single finger down her cheek and across her lips. “I’ve wanted to be close to you for longer than you can imagine. Seeing you again has been my goal this entire trip. Is that better?”
“Uh….” Emma’s eyes darted back and forth, desperate to avoid him, but unable to. That jade green gaze finally settled on him.
“That feeling you have right now, the desire, the guilt. I feel all those things, too. But not in the same way. It’s like I’m pushing you, grappling against an unseen force for the smallest bit of acknowledgement or affection when I want to give you so. Much. More.”
He leaned in to place a feather-light kiss on her lips, and she moaned. The pull to rush, head first, into kissing her with all the intensity he wanted to stood a hair’s breadth from being released. Her face flushed red, eyes closed, as her body leaned into him. She would’ve been joy in his arms, and the urge to throw caution to the wind and claim more of her, right there in front of her parents’ house, proved damn tempting until he saw the flutter of white lace curtains at the living room window. Instead, he started the car and pulled his sunglasses back in place.
“Who are you?” Em asked. She leaned back in the seat and secured her seatbelt, confusion etched on her face and her cheeks still in high color. An attractive look on her. A smug grin overtook him along with a sense of pride in knowing he could fluster her thoughts.
He carefully backed the car out of her parents’ driveway, checking the mirrors multiple times. “Just a Prince,” he replied, smiling big.
***
Emma knocked on Mason’s door and waited. Jason stood beside her, looking around at the windows, the sheriff’s car in the driveway, and at generally everything except her.
She felt a bit awkward and giddy. Jason Prince wanted her. The idea seemed unreal, but the way he’d phrased the whole ordeal was unlike any other guy who’d taken an interest in her. If he’d kissed her again, she would’ve given in like a kitten, weak and desperate for someone to stroke it.
Damn him for wanting more. He cared for Rose, but not in the way he wanted her. Was he guilty of a bigger sin? Could she really convict him when his confession hadn’t solely involved lust or sex?
“What’s wrong?” he asked with a frown. He pounded on the door with a closed fist.
“Nothing. Just thinking things.”
“Like?” The look in his eyes said he didn’t want her to regret his words. She wanted to be involved, be close, which gave her equal hot and horrible emotions all over.
She leaned up to peek through the glass, but couldn’t really see anything. “I wonder where everyone is.” The other strange thing she didn’t want to mention was that the grass was dead; a browned, shriveled-up dead. In fact, all the flowers in front of the Mason’s place were decaying, too.
“Don’t know, but the clinic should be open. So—” He turned the knob and opened the door. “Let’s go in and see if we can get an appointment. After you.”
He bowed at the waist and extended his arm. She stepped into the building, and a pang of heartache hit hard as she remembered the millions of times his deferring mannerisms had gone to Rose and not her. They both entered the waiting room, which was empty. No Doc, no sheriff, no Gladys.
“Doc?” she called out, taking slow, measured steps through the room. If the doctor had left, there would’ve been a sign on the front door, so where were they?
She switched on the light in the examination room. As the fluorescent tubes emerged from slumber, she expected to see a sleeping Sheriff Fowler in bed, but nothing. In fact, no evidence of a patient existed in the room. The little refrigerator on the counter caught her eye, though. Especially the vials of blood labeled “Rose Briar”; the next best thing to the autopsy report. “Jason, where are you?”
“I’m right here,” he said from behind her. “It’s too quiet. I’m going to see if anyone is at the back of the house. Maybe eating breakfast or something.”
“Okay. I’ll see if I can find the notes on Rose.” She moved further into the room, glancing over the contents and hoping to locate the file cabinet.
“Shouldn’t you wait and talk to him?”
“Think about it. Why would he tell me anything? He already thinks I wasn’t much
help anyway. It won’t hurt to look either. I mean he won’t have me locked up for looking at a file. Bingo.” A tan-colored, two-door cabinet sat on the other side of the bed behind the curtain.
“Fine. I’ll be back, but if you hear me talking to him, I’d put whatever you’re into away and get out to the waiting room fast.”
“Sure thing.” She opened the top drawer and started skimming the folder names. Everything filed away in alphabetical order. Thank you, Gladys. Not to be down on the dear doctor, but she’d seen his handwriting before and his office. Gladys kept everything organized from the house to the examination rooms. Halfway through the drawer, she located the folder she needed. She hefted the monstrosity out. All the files were that large since most of the high school alumnae had been born in this very room. Emma set the file on the counter and flipped to the back half of the paperwork, eyes skimming over each page.
Finally, she found examination notes from the day before. The fever was listed as ‘cause unknown.’ Blood work and initial tests had come back negative for common flu, viral infections, and drugs. The other tests were inconclusive. And no sign of the autopsy report.
“Damn.” They probably kept those files in the basement morgue, and no amount of curiosity could get her down into that dark, dank room. Nope. Knowing somebody died and wanting to find the cause was one thing. Signing up to glimpse her dead body cut open rested firmly in the category of things Emma wanted to avoid. She moved to the refrigerator and stared down at the vials of blood. No time to do any digging, nor did she have the proper equipment, but if she took a vial for later, it couldn’t hurt.
But it’s stealing.
Her options were slim, and, ethically, glancing over files equated to an invasion of privacy. Now she wanted to add stealing vials of blood, which could warrant a call to the sheriff’s office. Screw it.