He took a step back. “That’s not true.”
“You believed the worst when Mama told us she had an affair with your father.”
“So did you.”
“But she was my mama. I trusted her. And, besides, I didn’t have anybody else to ask. You got on a plane with your mother and never said a word about what happened. Why, Jonas? Why did you give up on us so easily?”
“Marlene made us promise to keep her secret. I was a kid, for God’s sake. What was I supposed to do? Break my mother’s heart?”
“No. You broke mine, instead,” she told him, her tone too flat and cold to be Remy. “And for fifteen years, I thought I loved you enough to overlook that. Maybe I could have…if you hadn’t assumed the worst about Thom. Suddenly it became clear to me that you have trust issues that don’t have anything to do with me—or with our mothers’ lies. I want what Mama was holding out for—someone who will love me no matter what.”
She touched her hand to his cheek. “Your daughter and her mother need you, Jonas. I’m a big girl. I can find my own way home.”
Then she took her suitcase and computer bag and walked to the closest SUV. The driver noticed and rushed to unlock the door for her.
Jonas stood without moving. His brain couldn’t make sense of what was happening. She blamed him for what her mother—and his—did fifteen years earlier? Remy was mad at him for drawing a faulty conclusion from facts that certainly would have raised suspicion about a man who was no perfect angel? If this was her idea of undying love, then who the hell needed it?
He stalked to the big table someone had dragged from inside the old store. He’d wrap up the paperwork, then take his daughter home. Screw love.
Remy watched Jonas storm to the command center. She knew he was mad. She didn’t blame him, but she also knew this was the best choice she could make at the moment. She pushed her bags over to give her room to sit. She’d just reached for her seat belt when she heard a high-pitched voice call her name.
“Remy!”
Birdie raced across the plaza, her bright red braids bobbing behind her. She reached the SUV, breathing hard. “You can’t go without saying goodbye. You found me.”
Remy got out and went down on one knee. “You were never lost, sweet girl. Just misplaced for a moment. You and your daddy have a special bond. He would never let you disappear for good.”
“When will I see you again?”
Remy gave her a squeeze. “I’m going to be working at Shadybrook, where your grandma Charlotte lives. Maybe we can see each other when you come to visit her.”
Birdie looked over her shoulder toward the big motor home. “My mommy doesn’t feel good.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s nobody’s fault. I wanted it to be Brother Thom’s fault, but Daddy says it isn’t.”
Remy was glad to hear that. “Nobody likes to be sick, Birdie. I hope your mother gets better soon.”
The two search-and-rescue volunteers returned. The driver got in, but the passenger held back, waiting for Remy and Birdie to finish their conversation. “I have to go, now, Birdie. It was wonderful getting to meet you. You’re a very special person.”
Acting on impulse, she quickly reached behind her neck and undid the clasp on the chain she always wore. “Here, Birdie,” she said, motioning for the little girl to turn around. “Your daddy gave this to me a long time ago. I want you to have it.”
“Why?”
“Because sometimes you need something tangible to remind you that even when you’re lost, someone who loves you will find you.”
She dropped a quick kiss on the top of Birdie’s head. “Take care, sweetheart, and be good for your daddy.”
Big shiny tears sparkled in Birdie’s eyes when she turned to look at Remy, but she didn’t weep. She touched the little St. Christopher medal, then she smiled and raced to where her father was standing, Thomas Goodson at his side.
Remy felt guilty about not telling her half brother goodbye, but his long-distance nod told her they’d talk again when the time was right. Jonas, on the other hand, didn’t acknowledge her leaving in any way. He picked up Birdie when she reached him and walked away.
Remy honestly couldn’t say that she blamed him. She wasn’t the same girl he thought he’d loved—either in high school or present day. But, finally, she knew who she was—Remy Bouchard. The Dream Girl. And she was done apologizing for being special.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“HOW DID REMY TAKE THE news that her half brother wasn’t a serial killer like you thought?”
Jonas killed his shot of rum before answering. The bittersweet taste reminded him of sharing a drink in Remy’s kitchen. He missed her so much the ache turned physical some nights. But, hopefully, he’d see her soon. If she was done being mad at him for being the world’s biggest jerk.
“She accused me—quite accurately, I fear—of being a cockeyed pessimist. She said I was a reactionary who saw the world as half full of poison…or something like that,” he told the man sitting across from him.
The blues bar was Leonard Franey’s idea. He’d called Jonas the day before to set up the meeting. “I’ll be in town on business. Thought we could tie up a few loose ends.”
Leonard fiddled with his glass of beer, a smile working at the corners of his mouth. “Optimists are like that,” he said, his tone a great deal less businesslike than usual. It sounded a bit wistful, actually, Jonas thought. “But I prefer to think pessimists are actually realists in sheep’s clothing.”
Jonas smiled but he wasn’t sure he understood. Fortunately, the man went on without expecting a response. “The thing that’s key is balance. Ying and yang. When two extremes meet in the middle, you can create harmony and beauty.”
The markedly Eastern philosophy sounded strange coming from this man in black. “That’s very…Zen,” Jonas said.
“I speak from experience, Jonas. You are a good man. A well-trained logician. You like things to fit in nice tight boxes that can then be filed away Case Closed. So do I. But life isn’t like that, my friend. And people like us need people like Remy to keep from becoming completely jaded.”
Too late. He’d snatched a few meaningless facts from a file and immediately concluded an innocent man was a killer. Jonas did not like what that said about him. It was probably the main reason he presently sat on a fence, immobilized by fear. His dilemma was likely the main reason he’d agreed to hire a babysitter to stay with Birdie today. This was the first they’d been apart since her rescue three weeks ago.
“She told me I wasn’t the man she thought I was and left—right in the middle of everything. I heard later from one of the search-and-rescue guys that they hung around the rental-car place to make sure she got off safely and that she rented a bright red convertible and drove off, smiling like she didn’t have a care in the world.”
The image continued to haunt him. Especially at night. God, he missed her.
Leonard let out a big, heartfelt laugh. “I can picture it. That girl has spunk. And heart,” he added meaningfully. “Believe me, Jonas, my biggest regret in life is giving up too easily on my Remy. Her name was Belle, by the way, and she predicted that I would wind up rich and alone if I didn’t realign my priorities. ‘Realign your priorities.’ Who says things like that? I went back to work and she went away.”
“What happened to her?”
“She lives in South Beach, where she’s married with two kids. She teaches yoga and jogs on the beach. She seems very happy and content. I know this because I’m a highly sought after private investigator, who lacks any real life so I live vicariously through my friends. Even old friends who have moved on with their lives.”
Jonas was surprised by the man’s candor. Surprised and not sure what to make of his cautionary tale. “And you’re telling me this because…”
Leonard took a small, token sip of beer. “You remind me of me, Jonas. Except for the hair.” He rubbed his bald pate and grinned. “Plus, I was in the Black H
ills, visiting my pal Shane Reynard this past weekend and bumped into Remy’s sister, Jessie.”
Jonas inhaled sharply. “Really? Should I have checked to see if you’re armed?”
Leonard chuckled. “She told me about her threat to castrate you. She’s a feisty one, that Jessie. But, no, I’m not here to do you bodily harm. In fact, she asked me to give you this card.”
Like a magician, he suddenly produced a glossy business card, which he nudged across the table. Jonas picked it up and studied it a moment. “A web designer and marketing person? What do I need that for?”
“Jessie said to tell you the only way you were going to get back in her sister’s good graces was by giving her what you promised when you hired her.”
“What did I promise? Oh, wait. You mean, a glowing recommendation?”
Leonard shrugged. “She said you’d know.”
Jonas turned the card over and saw a handwritten note. Think testimonial. What the hell did that mean?
He heaved a sigh and tucked the card in his shirt pocket. “Too late,” he said. “Remy already has a job. I got an email newsletter from the rest home where my mother lives. It included a big spread about welcoming back Remy to a full-time position, blah, blah, blah. She doesn’t need my reference.”
Leonard didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Jonas polished off his shot, nearly gagging on the harsh sweetness. The bitter truth was Remy didn’t need a thing from him. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t tempted to intrude in her life and beg her to give him a second—or was it a third—chance?
“They’re closing my department at work,” he said. “I can stay in Memphis if I want a desk job or I can transfer to a bigger market. Say…New Orleans.”
Leonard’s poker face betrayed nothing.
“And I put my condo on the market—just to see if there was a market and it sold the next day.”
“So…what are you waiting for? A neon arrow telling you where you need to be—and who you’re supposed to be with?”
“She’s beautiful. Single. Good. I have enough baggage for three people. What could I possibly bring to the table to make up for that?”
Leonard shook his head indulgently but his grin was kind—hopeful, even. “People like Remy—and my Belle—aren’t blind to the bad stuff that you and I see, Jonas. They simply choose to look beyond it. And, as to what you bring…well, check out that card.” He shrugged and reached for his phone that was sitting to one side like a gun. “Or you could sleep on it. Some people get their answers from dreams, I’m told.”
He rose, then leaned across the table to shake Jonas’s hand. “It was good meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you at the engagement party.”
Jonas stood, too. “What engagement party?”
“Jessie and her rancher fiancé. Gonna be a big affair in Sentinel Pass. All the stars of the show will be there. I’m handling security. In fact, Shane booked a private plane for me and my crew. N’Awlins isn’t too far out of the way if you need a lift.” He winked. “Just saying. First, you gotta convince Miss Remy that you’re the man to provide her heart’s desire. Better get hopping, son. The party’s in three weeks.”
“I’M SORRY, JESS,” Remy repeated for the fourteenth time. “I want to be there, but I can’t afford to come. I don’t start back to work until next week and I spent my disposable stash on paint and other stuff because I wanted to have the house done before I start working full-time.”
She shifted her recyclable bag from her right shoulder to her left so she could pick up the mail on her way into the house. A large manila envelop that didn’t quite fit in the funky black mailbox was sticking up. Her heart rate sped up when she spotted the return address.
The paternity test. She’d forgotten all about it.
She grabbed the mail and hurried inside, telling her sister, “I need to pinch pennies so I can come to your wedding. What’s more important? An engagement party or being your maid of honor?”
Jessie huffed and muttered on the other end of the line. Not surprising. She was living the fairy tale. She’d come to expect things to work out the way she wanted them to—right down to a glamorous, star-studded street party in Sentinel Pass to celebrate her engagement to Cade.
“Hey, guess what?” Remy asked. “The results from that test Jonas and I took are back. Wanna know what it says?”
“I already know. So do you, obviously. What’s the big deal? The real test comes when you talk Brother Thom into donating a swab of DNA. When’s that going to happen?”
Remy didn’t know. “I’ve left a couple of messages on his cell phone, but he hasn’t called back. Not surprising, I guess, given the fact he was in the middle of losing his land. He might be homeless, for all I know.”
“At least, he isn’t a homeless serial killer.”
Remy groaned and shook her head. She’d told her sister everything, of course. To Remy’s surprise, Jessie had been more sympathetic toward Jonas than Remy would have expected. “I could see myself jumping to the same conclusion,” she said. “People aren’t all sweet and charitable like you, Rem. Jonas was prepared for the worst. That’s a good thing in my book. It shows he cares.”
They’d argued for miles—Remy behind the wheel of her bright red convertible—Bluetooth in place, Jessie kicking back in her pool, exercising her ankle in preparation for her surgery.
“How’s your foot?”
“Ugly. I don’t want to talk about it. Tell me what the paternity test says.”
Remy set her purse and computer bag on the table. She’d spent the afternoon at the library, doing research into opening a small business. She wasn’t sure she was brave enough to actually hang out a shingle, so to speak, but if she decided to start offering lucid dream consultations, while working on her master’s degree in psychology, she needed to be prepared.
She skimmed down the cover letter. “Blah, blah, blah, cover my ass so you don’t sue me— Hey, I could use this format to protect myself if I decide to go into the dream business.”
Jessie didn’t say anything. A first. Her sisters had been supportive of Remy’s decision to return to college, but, surprisingly, Jessie had been lukewarm about the idea of turning Remy’s penchant for lucid dreaming into a business.
“Okay. Here it is. There is a ninety-nine-point-nine percent chance that Jonas is not my brother. Which, of course, means there is zero chance that his father is our father. Pretty anticlimactic, right?” She skimmed to the bottom of the page. “I wonder if they sent a copy to Jonas. Probably, huh?”
“You’re dying to call him, aren’t you?”
“No,” Remy lied.
Jonas was probably busily fitting all the loose and wobbly pieces of his life back into the perfect, white-carpet image he thought he wanted. She missed him. There was no denying that. And Birdie. She would have loved to get to know that beautiful child better, but she hadn’t heard from him since that fateful day at the GoodFriends’s compound. And she wasn’t about to call. “Men suck.”
Jessie’s laugh didn’t sound the least bit sympathetic. And she immediately changed the subject. “What did you dream about last night?”
Remy walked into her living room—with its newly painted butter-yellow walls and sat on the love seat she’d picked up at that new consignment store in town. “My dreams? Seriously? Why do you want to know?”
“Just tell me.”
Remy let her head fall against the cushion. She stared at the ceiling a moment, thinking. “I was planting a garden. Pepper plants. You were there. You laughed and said there were better ways to get some spice in my life.” She smiled. “I ignored you. As usual. And when I looked up, you were gone and Birdie was there, instead.”
“You were planting a garden.” Jessie sounded speculative. “Hmm…really. That’s interesting.”
Remy’s radar went on high alert. “What’s going on, Jess? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Cade gave me an iPad for an engagement present. I’m looking at that online dream encyclope
dia you told me about. According to it, planting a garden can mean you are open and receptive to new things. You are preparing to reap the bounty of your earlier investments. You are ripe with—”
Remy shot to her feet. “Stop. I know what it means. My job starts next week. I’ve filled out an application for grad school and picked up the paperwork I need to open my own business. I’m looking ahead and trying to get on with my life, Jess. What more do you want from me?”
Her sister didn’t answer right away. When she did, Remy’s inner twin sense went on high alert. Jessie was planning something—something that had to do with Remy. “Listen, Rem, no matter what happens, you know I love you, right? And I want you to be as happy as I am. Are we clear on that?”
Clear as mud, she almost said. One of her mother’s favorite sayings. But, she didn’t have time to formulate an answer, because there was a loud, firm knock on her door, followed by an excited, little girl voice calling her name.
“Remy. Remy, are you home? It’s me, Birdie.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
BIRDIE WAS SO EXCITED she nearly wet her pants. Her brand-new Hannah Montana panties. Her daddy had taken her shopping a few days after they got home and bought her more clothes than she had before her mommy took her away. She’d picked out her prettiest dress to wear today. To see Remy.
She pressed her face to the old screen door and called Remy’s name again. “What if she isn’t here, Daddy?”
“Her car is here. Call again.”
He was standing a few steps back, the yard sign they’d picked up that morning after visiting Grandma balanced on the porch beside him—the front pressed against his leg so it would be a surprise for Remy.
Daddy had been planning this surprise ever since the day he quit his job and sold their condo. He’d sat beside her on the big leather sofa and explained everything. “I have a job opportunity in New Orleans, which is driving distance from Baylorville. That’s where Grandma lives, remember?”
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