Deeper Than Need: A Secrets & Shadows Novel

by Shiloh Walker

  * * *

  He looked back down at the floor.

  The look in his eyes was one she’d remember for the rest of her life. Sheer, broken misery.

  “What happened in my house, Noah?” she whispered when he just remained silent, staring at the floor like it held him mesmerized.

  He finally dragged his gaze away and looked up at her, his eyes half-wild. “I don’t know. Nobody knows.”

  “What…?”

  He shook his head. “Nobody knows.” His body shuddered and he pulled away, stumbled over to the couch and sank down. He rested his elbows on it and looked around the room like he’d never seen it before. “This place was empty then. It’s been empty most of my life. Judge Max never had much luck keeping renters, even before then. Couldn’t get a buyer. Everybody local knows about this place.” He slid her a look. “The Realtor has to tell you if you asked, but somebody from out of town? Would they think to ask? I guess you were the dream buyer.”

  With her heart in her throat she moved across the floor, settled her weight on the edge of the coffee table. “What happened?” she asked again, dread a heavy force inside her.

  “Hell. Death. Everything,” Noah murmured, looking away. “This house, it’s got history. Goes way back. Happened back in the fifties or sixties. That’s when it all started. A woman—her husband beat her to death after he caught her in bed with another man. It was the judge’s sister. The husband killed himself in jail and the house passed to Judge Max. He could never sell it. Small town … people talk.” Noah rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, shifting his gaze to the spot on the floor again before looking back out the window. “He’d rent it out off and on, but nobody stayed more than a month or two. They’d talk about weird noises, doors opening. Voices. He almost had it sold once—an out-of-state buyer, once. But it fell through. As time goes by, he started having a harder time even finding renters. Place gets a bad rep, and it’s starting to fall apart.”

  Noah shoved up from the couch, hands jammed in his pockets. “I grew up hearing stories about this place. How it was haunted. That if you stood out there, at the edge of the walk, on a cloudy night, you could hear a woman’s screams for help. It was raining the night Frampton murdered his wife. Lots of stories about this place … lots of them.” He swallowed, closing his eyes. “By the time I got to high school, it was getting pretty run-down—had been sitting empty a few years. That old guy couldn’t even rent it out. People would move in, then be gone in a few days, claiming all kinds of crazy stuff—thinking they heard people moving through the house at night. People talking. Doors opening. Crazy stuff. Nobody would stay here, and in a town this small once you start talking everybody knows. I guess he gave up. Kept the place up pretty good for the longest time … watched it like a hawk.” A weak grin crossed Noah’s face as he glanced her way. “I think he expected to find some of the kids from school were behind the problems. Called the cops if anybody so much as lingered on the street for more than five seconds.”

  Noah turned away and she watched as he crossed his arms over his chest, tilted his head back. Silence fell and she could practically see him bracing himself. Preparing himself.

  She tried to do the same, but she had no idea what to expect.

  Part of her wanted to just cover his mouth, tell him not to say anything else. What did it matter? It was twenty years ago.

  But whatever it was, it mattered to him.

  “It was October,” he murmured. “My senior year. Twenty years ago. That night, Judge Max heard something. Again. Typical complaint, from what everybody said. The cops took their time getting out here. I guess they didn’t expect to find anything.”

  Didn’t expect.

  Trinity’s knees went weak and blood roared in her head, her heart banging against her ribs in hard, heavy beats.

  “They get out there and all they find is blood.” Noah turned to look at her. “That’s it. Just blood. Nobody is here. No cars. No sign that anybody had broken in, although they can tell people have been inside. There’s the blood, you see. On the porch and then more of it. Inside the house. They found some fingerprints on the window, the doors. One set is hers. They identified that set and found another set they couldn’t ID, along with some partials, but that’s it.”

  “That’s it?”

  Dumbly, he said, “That’s it.”

  Silence fell, heavy and icy and cold as death, dragging by for long, miserable seconds until he finally shattered it. “She was here.” He closed his eyes and a harsh breath shuddered out of him. “We’d talked earlier that day. I asked her if we were going out, and she said she couldn’t. She had to do something. She didn’t tell me she was coming here, but somebody saw her on the road. Walking this way.”

  “Why was she out here? If this place was that much trouble…?”

  He didn’t answer at first and she wondered if maybe he’d decided to just not finish this. Whatever it was, Trinity wasn’t sure she wanted to know now. Later, if curiosity got the better of her—

  “There was this kid,” Noah murmured, his voice thick and rusty. He went back to the couch, sinking down like every bone in his body ached. “A guy from school.”

  He paused, and in that brief moment her heart slammed hard against her ribs and she knew. She’d heard this. Softly she said, “David Sutter.”

  Noah blinked, his lids drooping low over his eyes, and then slowly he nodded. “You’ve heard his name.”

  Trinity moved across the living room and settled her weight gingerly on the coffee table, her knees just inches from his. “Yeah. People usually stop whispering when I walk by, but I’ve got good ears. Who was David?”

  “A boy we went to school with.” Noah reached out and laid his hands on her knees, fingers splayed wide, like he desperately needed the contact. “People started talking crazy after they all disappeared—Lana and David wanted to run away together, so they teamed up and killed his folks, crazy shit like that. It’s just crazy. Lana wouldn’t have done anything like that.”

  Trinity reached up and brushed Noah’s hair back.

  “She made me promise I wouldn’t tell,” he said again, and there was something so lost, so broken, about those words.

  “Why were they meeting, Noah?”

  He looked down. “I can’t say for certain.…” His shoulders rose and fell on a heavy sigh. “The Sutter family was big here. Influential, important. You probably know what I mean. David was a jock. Seemed nice enough, but he was quiet. Kept to himself, even though he always had a bunch of people following him around. He played football, baseball. I knew him, barely. I played basketball, but that was it. We saw each other some because of church—we didn’t go to the same place, but our dads had mutual acquaintances.” He paused, swallowed. “She told me he was in trouble. That’s all she’d say. She wouldn’t tell me what kind, but sometimes…”

  A sick feeling spread through Trinity’s gut as he looked away, a muscle jerking in his jaw. “Once a kid called him a faggot. It was in the locker rooms at school. David … it was like he snapped. He wasn’t a mean kid. Mouthy at times. Arrogant in the way rich kids can be sometimes. But he wasn’t a mean guy. He wouldn’t snap over things like that, but this kid went up behind him and slapped him on the butt and called him a pretty-boy faggot—the second that kid touched him, David just snapped. Beat that boy so bad, they had to take him to the hospital. I was in there … when it happened. Tried to haul him off.”

  * * *

  Noah’s mind spun back to that day and he could remember that moment, so clear and bright. Regret ripped at him all over again. Flexing his hands, he looked down at them. “I was big even then. Strong, fast. Knew how to fight, but I couldn’t stop him. I was a few inches taller than him and a lot faster. But it took the coach and another teacher to get him off.”

  Noah looked over at Trinity, saw the stark, sad expression on her face. “It was like he didn’t even know what he was doing … like he couldn’t stop it. I don’t think he even knew where he wa
s or who he was. A few days after that was when he started talking with Lana. They’d both gotten suspended, David for the fight. Lana for mouthing off to the science teacher over dissecting something. One of the things the principal did was make kids do ‘community’ work when they got in trouble. Lana was always doing something.” Noah realized he was smiling. “None of the teachers ever did figure out she didn’t mind the community service stuff. This was like her fourth time getting in trouble, though, so he slapped her with a big project—they were helping with the work that needed to be done on the property around school, landscaping and all that. All the kids who did community service work had to get their parents’ okay, but if they didn’t do it the suspension lasted longer. It usually worked … once a kid had to go through a few of Hewitt’s community ‘give-back’ sessions, they tended to stay out of trouble, at least in school. David and Lana started talking then. She…”

  Noah lapsed into silence, unable to figure out where to go from there, because he didn’t know what happened. He remembered going back to the locker room once, because he’d left his wallet. Nobody but David had been in there. David had all these bruises—and a weird scar that hadn’t made sense at the time. Thinking back later, and even now, Noah realized it made him think of a brand … sort of.

  “He was being abused.”

  Cutting his gaze back to her, he nodded. “Yeah.” He blew out a breath and nodded, resting his elbows on his knees. “I think so. Back then, I didn’t really know what to look for, but I knew something was wrong. I felt it in my gut. It’s one of the worst parts. All these unanswered questions. If somebody was hurting that kid, we’ll never know. Nobody will ever pay for it. Not on this side of the earth.”

  “You think she…” Trinity stopped, a hesitant look on her face.

  That edgy, angry energy burned inside him and he eased off the couch, unable to sit still, barely able to handle all the guilt and grief rising to the fore. Moving to the window that faced out over the river, he stared out over the slow-moving water.

  It was growing dark and the water reflected the deep blue of the sky. Staring at it, he shook his head. “I don’t know what to think. I almost drove myself insane trying to figure it all out. If I had to guess, I’d say Lana either knew or she’d figured out most of it and she had some idea in her head that she’d do something to stop it all—get him out of there. Knowing David’s family, if they were involved the only way to help David was to get him out of town.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Noah turned around and met her eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest as some of the ugly, dark anger he’d fought with most of his life came boiling out. “I mean just that … if I’m right about this, then nobody would have believed Lana or David. David’s daddy was a good ol’ boy, Trinity. Pastor at the biggest church in town. Old family. Plenty of people in town still talk about him like he walked on water.” No matter how hard Noah tried, the disgust he felt over that colored his voice. “His wife was the same way … the picture-perfect wife for the picture-perfect pastor. Everybody saw the picture-perfect family.”

  “I get the feeling that wasn’t the case.”

  Noah looked past her, staring into the night as memories flashed through his mind. “David never showered around anybody. He used to get teased about it, but he never let that stop him. I figured he was modest. Some kids who are raised in the church are like that. I never saw the problem. I mean, I was in there with a bunch of guys, right? But David would either wait until everybody was done, or he’d just head home, wearing sweaty gear. Once, though … I’d forgotten my wallet in my locker, went back. I came back in; he was there.” Noah closed his eyes. “He had these bruises. I walked in right when he was yanking his shirt on, and when I asked him he said he’d been wrestling with some friends … but the bruises were all wrong.” He swallowed and closed his eyes. “There was something else. A weird scar. I’d never seen anything like it, but … it looked like somebody had branded him.”

  Noah scraped his nails down his jaw and leaned against the wall at his back, staring up at the ceiling. “I said something to Lana. Told her I was going to tell my dad. That wasn’t too long before they disappeared. Before everything happened up here. I should have said something. But she talked me out of it. Said if I told it was going to make things worse for David and he’d finally figured out a way to make it all stop. I listened to her. I was a stupid fool and I listened to her, instead of listening to my gut.”

  Moments of silence passed and then he heard the soft brush of a footstep on the floor. Lowering his head, he opened his eyes and met Trinity’s gaze. “You were a kid,” she said, shaking her head. “You can’t blame yourself.”

  “I was seventeen. That’s not exactly a preschooler who didn’t know any better.”

  “No. You were seventeen—and you weren’t acting alone. There were a couple of you involved and you probably knew what was what. What would your dad have done? Gone to his folks? Called the cops?”

  “Both.” Noah clenched his jaw and looked away.

  “If it was the kid’s dad doing it and most of the town looked up to him that much…” She sighed and tucked her hands into her pockets. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t have told your dad. But you were probably thinking that going to this kid’s dad would just make things worse.”

  Noah didn’t bother answering that. There was no point. Yes, he’d thought just that. If Peter Sutter had been the abuser Noah believed him to be, saying anything wouldn’t do any good unless there was proof. The bruises on David wouldn’t be the proof the kid needed if the boy didn’t speak up. Now, maybe. But twenty years ago?

  Noah just didn’t know.

  Even now trying to get people moving when something was wrong almost took an act of God, it seemed. Like CTaz—

  Closing his eyes, he turned away.

  Just another dark tangle in his gut.

  “So what happened?” she asked, sliding a hand around his waist.

  He wanted to turn back to her and lose himself. Forget the darkness, forget the pain, the misery. Forget everything but her.

  Trinity rested a hand on his shoulder and he locked his limbs to keep from giving in to that urge. It all but consumed him. He knew the oblivion he could find in a woman’s arms. It had given him comfort for a long, long time. And this need went so much deeper. The need for Trinity all but consumed him.

  “What happened that day?” she asked quietly.

  “Like I said … nobody knows.” Woodenly he kept his gaze locked on the Ohio. He’d done this a lot. Stared out at the river like it held the answer to everything. Sadly, those slow-moving waters had yet to offer him even a single answer. Not a one. “I know Lana was planning on meeting him. Somebody reported seeing her on the road that night. There was blood that matched her blood type, a lot of it. But there wasn’t any—”

  The word caught in his throat and he closed his eyes as he forced it out. “They found no bodies. Not one. The car the Sutter family … David’s family owned was found abandoned a few miles away. Around midnight, the owner of the house, old Judge Max—you bought the house from him—called, reported a disturbance, but by the time the cops got there? Nothing. Just the blood, some inside. Some outside the house. The car they found a little later. Nothing else. Not a damn thing since.”

  Trinity leaned in and pressed a kiss to his back, right between his shoulder blades.

  He shuddered and clenched his hands into fists to keep from grabbing her, so desperate for the comfort, the warmth, she seemed willing to offer.

  * * *

  A shudder wracked his body. All she wanted to do was stroke all the pain away, all the misery.

  Because she couldn’t not do anything, she slowly slid her arms around his waist and rested her face against his back. He stood there, rigid and unyielding.

  “I’m sorry, Noah.”

  He didn’t even seem to hear her.

  “I waited. A few days.” Another shudder gripped him, from hea
d to toe. “I thought she was just out somewhere with David. They’d done something, I figured, something bad, and she had to stay with him until he was safe. But she’d come back. That was all I cared about—I didn’t even care what they’d done, because if she’d done something awful, it was because she had to stop something bad. I knew that, in my gut. But the days just kept passing, one after another. She never came back.”

  He dropped a hand down, rested it on Trinity’s wrist. “A week after it happened, I was out at this guy’s house—my dad was helping them repair some storm damage. He had a liquor cabinet. I saw a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and I just took it. I didn’t even think about it, really. It helped. A few sips at first. Then I needed more. Eventually, I couldn’t stop, even when I didn’t want to keep drinking. I had to have it.”

  She smoothed a hand down his side. “You know, you don’t have to keep telling me this.”

  “Yeah. I do.” His fingers closed around her wrist, gripping it now. “I need to get this out.”

  “Okay.” She closed her eyes and waited, hurting for him.

  “My parents didn’t see it at first … I mean, they knew I was depressed, but I’d always been a good kid. They thought I’d be okay, as long as they stood by me. Let me know they were there for me. By the end of high school, though, they knew there was a problem. I barely graduated. College rolled around and I was really running wild. I went to Hanover and I was working on sleeping with as many girls as I could, drinking as much as I could without killing myself.

  “After a while, I didn’t even know myself.” He paused, then shook his head. “I still can’t remember who I used to be back then. That kid, I guess he died along with Lana and David.”

  “You’re sure they’re…”

  As she struggled to find the words, he sucked in a deep breath. She felt it, the expansion of his chest, the erratic movement as he blew it back out. “They’re gone. Lana, she wouldn’t have stayed away, left her dad alone and wondering all this time. He’s in a nursing home now—spent years searching for her, and he still looks for answers. Had a major stroke a few years ago. Lana adored him. If she could come back to him, she would. I don’t think she’d have just walked away from me, but I know she wouldn’t have left her dad just because she wanted to take off with David. A bunch of people said that’s what it was—said she tricked him into taking off with her, maybe the two of them killed his folks and everything, but that’s not what happened.”