First Crush

by Ashley Ludwig

  At his back, heaven flared its glory.

  The beauty was mind-wrenching, awesome, indescribable. She had to go see for herself.

  “Please, I want to come with you!”

  “No.” His voice was sharp, and it startled her back inside of herself. Papa stroked her cheek. And she knew what she had to do.

  He smiled, and she felt it all the way down to her toes. The forgiveness, but most of all, the love.

  He looked as young as he was when he married Mee Maw. She had a picture of her grandparents on their wedding day on her mantle at home. Clinton laughed at it; he said Papa looked goofy on his wedding day. Valery saw them as excited and hopeful, another sixty years of loving in their future.

  “He’s not your match, darling.”

  Her eyes went wide and her knees buckled as he continued. “That rapscallion you’re biding time with, Fife? He’s not worthy of you.” Papa’s eyes were sorrowful as he touched her hair. With a flash, carrot orange shifted to red.

  Clinton liked it that bright, unnatural color.

  She’d given too much of her body and her soul away willingly, and it wasn’t all Clinton Fife’s fault. He wandered, traveled, searched for every extreme the world had to offer. He was always seeking the next thrill, confident she’d be waiting for him when he returned.

  Valery’s head ducked in shame.

  “You get what most don’t, my girl. A second chance.”

  Papa took her by the hand, and she inhaled the familiar scent of him. Her heart slowed and her panic receded. He smelled of peppermint. Tobacco. Sunlight. There was a strength in him that couldn’t be measured.

  “It’s not your time yet. Go on back, now. You’re the key.”

  Her dream faded as wakefulness found her.

  “Papa?” Her voice was a rasp of whisper.

  She trembled in the dark, struggling to make sense of where she was. She didn’t seem to be in the cave anymore.

  At last, Valery’s eyes adjusted to the darkness.

  A spider web of stars stretched across the sky above. Somewhere, a coyote bayed. Leaves rustled. The bright wash of stars overhead reflected their light across an inky black pool of water beside her.

  Her hands and feet were still bound. She clutched palms full of gritty sand and struggled to push her aching body into a kneeling position.

  Her mind reeled, memory foggy. How had she gotten here? Where was she?

  She dragged her feet around, evaluating her injuries. There was nothing that didn’t hurt. Bright flashes of pain shot through her at every breath. There was blood in her mouth, blood matting her hair. She tested the cut at her jaw and found it clogged and wet.

  Her breath came in tiny, rapid draws. Anything deeper and pain stabbed her side. Broken ribs? Her right hand was smashed, her foot hobbled. She remembered the look in his eye when he smashed both with a hammer.

  “Help.” Her quavering voice held no traction. It was raw from screaming, crying, and praying, really praying for the first time in years.

  “Please, Lord. Help me.”

  You have to get out of here.

  Figure out where you are.

  Now.

  Biting her bindings, she found an edge of the duct tape and unraveled the fibrous, sticky strand while her mind worked. There was only one place she could be––the lake. The lake where they’d found that girl a few weeks ago. Murdered.

  Valery’s mind snapped to the man responsible. He’d worn a ball cap, hiding his round face in shadow as he’d wrenched the truth from her in any way he pleased.

  He’d taken off a blue work shirt and hung it on a hook, revealing a torso and arms that were tight with muscle. His clenched hands had murderous intent.

  He was a demon on earth.

  He kept asking questions about the Valences. About Natalie.

  And she’d told him everything. It was her fault. Her fault and no one else’s if anything happened to that girl.

  Coward. I’m a coward for not keeping silent.

  But, no. He was the coward—unable to finish the grim task he’d started. She was still alive.

  And now, she knew his name.

  Good hand free, she tore the tape from around her ankles. She’d taken something from him. His name. And names were power.

  She limped along the shore, the starlight just enough to light her way, as her mind replayed the horrors of the torture chamber.

  All the while he’d beaten her, tormented her, she could see it so clearly. It was an accident, at first. She saw a flash and focused on the bright object, needing a distraction. It turned out to be an oval name badge on his work shirt. It hung across the room, away from the spatter of her blood, but she could read it.

  Rudy.

  Then, she’d stared at the floor, the far corner of the earthen room, anywhere but the peg where his shirt hung. He couldn’t suspect she knew his name.

  Her quiet acquiescence eventually bored him. He’d slowed his onslaught and decided she was played out.

  He’d muscled her into a white van. Glassy-eyed, she’d added its license plate to her treasure trove of knowledge.

  After driving some distance, he’d tossed her out like garbage. He’d sent her tumbling into a ravine, bound and broken. Left for dead.

  Now, thin, tiny shards of breath came and went as she forced her way through the fog of memory.

  He’d backed the van in. That meant there was a road. She just had to get to the road. But every step was torture. Every breath agony.

  In the distance, there was light. The ranger’s station? Someone had to be there.

  The brush rustled with movement. Valery froze. Moments later, the rustling was followed by an animal’s low, guttural growl.

  It came again, and her blood chilled at the unmistakable snarl of a mountain lion. Valery followed the mountain lion’s approach with strained ears until it was close enough to see. The shadowy cat’s perked ears flattened on its head, teeth bared.

  No matter what Papa said, no matter how many more years he’d promised her before heaven, Valery sensed her time on earth was up.

  Chapter 26

  “Good night, Nick.”

  But the line was empty. He’d already hung up.

  Phone in hand, Natalie watched the clock tick as Corie made them a light dinner of brie rounds, crackers, and dried golden figs.

  Her heart wrenched for Nick. Philip had passed, at last. Nick’s lingering sorrow permeated the silence as her mind replayed the call.

  Did he want her to come?

  No. No point in it. Nick would stay with the mourners for a while longer.

  Of course he would.

  Marie was holding on, but Natalie should come out in the morning. Just in case.

  Absolutely.

  Dalton or another patrol would be by to check on them before midnight.

  Though he didn’t say so, she was sure Nick saw to that, as well.

  He would be back, but late. No need to leave out a key; he had a spare. Her breath hitched with a wave of sadness. Comfort, sorrow, and promises all laced his parting good night.

  Natalie thumbed through her mobile for the picture she’d taken of him out in the vines. Her heart surged with longing for him. She remembered wrapping her arms about his neck, how it felt to kiss that rugged warmth of his cheek, press her forehead to his, their souls intertwining with every breath. It was intimacy as she’d never experienced.

  She clutched the counter’s edge and looked over as Corie plucked two green bottles of mineral water from the cooler, concern in her eyes as she handed one over.

  “You okay?”

  Natalie took the water, twisted it open, and guzzled a long swig.

  “Just a little dizzy spell.” Natalie checked the kitchen door handle and then the deadbolt. Both locked, as promised. She’d checked three times already.

  The sudden need for Nick was as startling as being caught by a wave and dragged out by the undertow. He’d worked his way into her routines, even her nighttime ri
tuals. Her heart ached for Philip’s wife; she would never kiss her husband again.

  Natalie prayed for peace for the new widow. She couldn’t do much else tonight. Since she’d met Nick, Natalie had prayed more than she had in years.

  Night covered the dome of the sky with dark secrets. Cold, murky, it blacked the sheer-covered kitchen windows. A sliver of moon rose over Mount Paloma, its light not enough to brighten the grove.

  Natalie and Corie walked through the house checking locks and turning off lights. The house drew in, closing up like a lily at the end of the day.

  Ready for bed, the girls gathered in what was once Marie’s small living room. Natalie wondered if the room would ever really feel like hers. Maybe after they returned home for her clothes, her pictures, her favorite reading chair that would go perfectly by the small fireplace … It was time to give her notice at The Grand and put down permanent stakes here. The time for waffling was over.

  Too warm for a fire, they lit candles instead. In minutes, the bedroom glowed with flickering, waxy light.

  Both sitting cross-legged on her bed, a nighttime picnic blanket beneath them, Natalie sampled Corie’s chocolate chip cookies with icy-cold milk. Comfort food in hand, she felt equally at peace knowing that all the doors of the huge estate were locked up tight.

  “You okay, Nat?”

  “I just can’t stop thinking about it. If that woman is … her. Amanda. How do you deal with that?”

  “I don’t know, but I do know what it’s like to have someone you love in jeopardy.” Corie rubbed cookie crumbs from her fingers on a napkin.

  After swallowing a mouthful of milk, Natalie sighed. She’d seen what the loss of one loved one did to the Hardaway family. Marie had lost a husband and a daughter. She’d merely existed here after their deaths. She’d placed all of her hopes on Natalie, a granddaughter she’d never met. And now look at them.

  Corie pushed the empty milk glasses across the nightstand.

  “You’re not alone in this. Mom, Dad, and Aaron are all praying.” Corie hugged her knees. “You know Mom’s got the touch.”

  Her mother had the power of prayer, and she had a circle of friends who prayed with her. All of those voices lifting Natalie up? No wonder fear stayed at bay.

  “If the Hardaway brothers are right? And there is some crazy person out there? He doesn’t know we’re on to him. Dalton’s plan is working.” Corie fist-smacked her palm in emphasis. “Let’s get it over with, once and for all, so that we can get on with our lives and lock that demon up for ten life sentences.”

  “What if we fail?”

  “At least we’ll go down together. As a family.” Corie lifted her chin, stilling a tide of emotion. “We have people on our side. Good people who’ve been hurt and broken by this monster. And those women deserve justice. Especially Rebecca.”

  The cozy room was suddenly bathed in light. Both girls looked out the window to the flood of white illuminating the olive trees and the hillside.

  “What’s that?” Corie’s eyes widened.

  “Motion sensor lights.” Natalie stood and looked out the balcony’s glass sliding doors at an approaching car. “It’s probably Dalton.”

  “Probably.”

  Their gazes met, nervous laughter bubbling like they were still little girls.

  Stepping to the balcony, they stared into the darkness and watched the cop car make a slow circuit around the front drive. Dalton stepped out of the passenger door while the driver circled around the back of the property.

  Spotlight off, Dalton walked the groves and then turned to the grass with his flashlight. His light hit the side of the house, spying each verandah and balcony. Judging it clear, he moved on.

  Dalton was nothing but thorough, just like his brother.

  After a few moments, he caught them in his spotlight.

  “Hey, there!” He gestured to the blinding motion sensor lights. “You’re gonna attract every mosquito in wine country with those.”

  “Your brother’s idea,” Natalie called down.

  He nodded, waving his Maglite. “I don’t even need this.”

  Corie leaned her elbows on the balcony rail and smiled. “Wanna come up?”

  “Working.” Dalton saluted. “We’ll keep watch.”

  The girls returned inside. Corie swept the dishes to the small kitchen sink and shot a sheepish grin to Natalie’s room.

  “I think I will sleep in here with you tonight, if you don’t mind.”

  “I hardly need a king-sized bed all to myself.”

  As they often had as children, the sisters climbed into bed and curled up together. Corie snored while Natalie returned her attention to the leatherbound book. A page she hadn’t noticed before stuck out. Upon further inspection, she discovered something glued to the binding, hidden from casual view.

  She unfolded the paper, revealing a hand-drawn map of the property. It was the same map Clinton Fife had showed her, with one small difference.

  This map had a structure on the west property line. It was circled and marked “Wine Cave.”

  Cave? That ought to be interesting.

  Why wouldn’t that be on the lawyer’s map? Maybe there was something hidden there. Like that wine from the comet year Nick had talked about.

  With a yawn, she folded the onionskin page back and returned it to the book. A guilty glance at her phone told her it was late.

  It would be better to share her discovery with Nick in the morning, she decided, succumbing to a cloud of dreams.

  From the safety of the olive groves, he watched.

  Natalie was Amanda Valence’s daughter. She’d come for the money, the house, and the land.

  He’d stood here before. A finger of memory brushed his skin as he picked his way across tree roots and irrigation lines. All was black and dark below. Above, the trees were clothed in starlight.

  This was the place he’d waited for Amanda to join him in secret. He trailed a hand across tree bark. It was rough—like the memory of her heartbeat against his, their bodies clothed in nothing but young lust and moonlight.

  He pushed through the olive grove. The dripping limbs were heavy with black fruit, and their waxy scent filled his nose while his heart throbbed with the bitterness of Amanda’s deceit.

  She’d disappeared for almost four years, leaving him heartbroken and alone. He’d spent those dark years imagining the other lovers she would take, and it only proved to him that he meant nothing to her. Now, with Valery’s confession, he knew it to be the truth. Her child had come here. It nearly destroyed him to think of it.

  The castle grew as he approached. It watched over the landscape where they had cherished each other, loved, and wept.

  In memory, her eyes were the gray-green of olive tree leaves, her words like a bird’s morning song. They were supposed to run away together, start a life together. But she hadn’t shown. She’d vanished, leaving him with nothing but her memory.

  He was just eighteen when Amanda destroyed him for love, left him ruined for all others.

  Threading through the grove and around the castle proper to the back lawn, he froze. The arbor, the windows … they were all fixed. The locks had probably been changed as well. His hand tightened around the old key set and then flung it to the dirt with a useless jangle.

  Natalie was changing things. Making it hers.

  The skeletal arbor stood for the first time in twenty years. It looked like it had before he’d kicked it down the night Amanda’s father got in his way. It was an accident. Justified. The man had refused to admit he was wrong. Mr. Valence wouldn’t tell him where Amanda was; for that, he’d knocked him out, covered him with alcohol, and lit the match.

  Even as the life left the man’s eyes, they remained defiant while fire consumed his skin.

  Pulling himself back to the present, he noticed how the wisteria hooked into place on the lattice and embraced the pillars of the arbor, stubbornly clinging to life in spite of neglect.

  His father planted
that vine here, an age ago, and still the flowers bloomed. Each feathery blossom was a work of art, of patience, endurance, longing, and memory. The wisteria’s honey scent filled his head. This place ached with Amanda’s presence.

  Between him and the house stood the tree. The last time he’d held her was in the shelter of its weeping limbs. It was where they had made love. It was where they both should have died, together.

  There was no replacement for Amanda. His soul was forever shredded by her loss.

  A sudden light halted his approach and pushed him back into the sheltering arms of the willow. He crouched, hidden from view by its long branches, and dragged his hands across his scalp as if he could rip the memory of Amanda and her goodness free. The tree still lived. Its roots were tangled and thick like her arms reaching for him from the grave.

  She’d drunk his poison here, while he’d splashed his toxic drink to the earth. Dumped out his death in a moment of weakness.

  While Amanda choked and gasped for her last breath, he held her, watched the light leave her eyes, her body empty. He was alone. Amanda paid the ultimate price—and so had her mother, tortured by the thought that her only daughter had run away.

  He’d buried her body by the lake. For years she’d rested, but now they’d found her. It was all over the news. They had the body, they just didn’t know it was Amanda. Yet.

  An engine rumbled. Rudy heard the police car before it rolled past. He remained stock-still on his belly as it swept past at a slow crawl.

  There would be no peace tonight. The motion lights and police car saw to that. For now, Natalie was safe.

  But tomorrow …

  Every year on the anniversary of Amanda’s death, he’d tried to join her. And each year he was too vain. Too weak to see it through.

  All that remained for his pitiful soul was hell on earth. A dark, cold prison, separated from his true love. Amanda had cursed him.

  He waited. Still as a snake. Once the police cruiser left, sweeping its spotlight down the main road, he went back to that yellow car of Natalie’s. Made a few alterations. A slow leak. Just enough. He’d waited this long, he could wait a bit longer.