by Sofia Grey
The shop was just a few minutes drive from Jasper’s house, and it was with a spring in my step that I led Zack in through the back door. He carried the milk, while I had the eggs and a loaf of bread. Jas would be fine without me for one night. I’d tell him I’d come back for dinner and to walk the dogs, but would be out tonight with a friend. But was Zack a friend, or just a lover? A one-night random hookup?
Jas leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the garden when we walked in. He straightened and turned to us, a dazed look on his face that worried me. “Hol.” His voice trailed away when he saw Zack. Frowning, he stared at the man by my side. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
“Don’t think so.” Zack placed the milk carton on the table and held out a hand to Jasper. “Zack Winter.”
“Jas Clarke.” They shook hands, and Zack flashed me a puzzled glance.
“You have different surnames?”
“I didn’t change back after my divorce,” I said, volunteering no more than that. Eager for a diversion, I moved to the fridge and opened the door, ready to stash the groceries, but Jasper caught my arm.
“I got some bad news, sis.” He swallowed and then rubbed his eyes. He looked terrible, pale and shaken. Fear rattled around my stomach, and I stared at him. What could possibly have happened now? “A friend of mine has died. I can’t believe it. I only just picked up the text telling me about her. I’m trying to find out when the funeral is.”
A horrible sense of foreboding settled in my chest. Was he talking about Marnie? “Who?” I breathed. Please let it be someone else.
“Marguerite. She worked in the café by the station.”
My split second of relief was punctuated by Zack clearing his throat. “My sister’s funeral was earlier this morning.”
Jas stared directly at Zack and then nodded. “That’s where I know you from. She has your picture on the wall. She talks—talked—about you all the time.”
“My picture… D’you mean in the café?” Zack sounded puzzled, and I reached for his hand and held it tight.
“Naw, on the wall in her lounge.”
His fingers tightened in my grasp. “How well did you know my sister?”
“I helped her move house the other week. I borrowed a mate’s Ute and shifted all her gear.” Jas leaned forward and snagged a chair from the table, sinking into it with a heartfelt groan. “It took me months to get her to leave that bastard she was living with. And when she did, she moved just a few streets away. I told her she needed to get out of town, but she wouldn’t. Didn’t want to leave her job. It’s just a job, I kept telling her.” His words petered out. “Please tell me he didn’t have anything to do with it.”
To say I was confused would be an understatement. Zack’s brows tugged together into a dark V, suggesting he hadn’t followed Jasper’s long-winded ramble either. There was a thoughtful pause, and then Zack tugged a chair out for me and claimed one for himself. Our hands stayed linked. “Right. Tell me what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“How did she die?”
I felt Zack tense at Jasper’s bald question. “She fell down the cellar steps when she was collecting firewood. She broke her neck.”
“No. Who told you that?”
“That’s what the police told our mother.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Jas took a deep breath. “Holly, what’s the weather been like since you’ve been back?”
“It’s, ah, been warm. Sunny.” I gestured to the window with my free hand. “Like today.” I didn’t see the relevance, but Zack leaned forward and pinned Jas with a steely gaze.
“So why would she be collecting firewood? Why go in the cellar at all?”
“More to the point, there isn’t a cellar in her new place. I should know, I moved her stuff.”
Without taking his eyes off Jas, Zack dug into his pocket and retrieved his phone. He laid it on the table, on loudspeaker, and then tapped out a number. Five rings later, a sharp female voice answered. “Yes?” His mother. I heard the muffled hum of conversation in the background. The wake.
“It’s me. Where did Marnie die?”
Her shocked gasp was audible. “She fell down the steps—”
“No.” He took a quick breath and moderated his tone. “Where? Her new house or her old one?”
“What new house?”
Zack’s gaze flicked from the phone to me, to Jas, and back to me. “She moved out a few weeks ago.”
“With Barry?”
“No. She left him.” Zack took an unsteady breath as though bracing himself for something. “You told me Barry found her.”
“That’s what the police said. He came home from work and found her.” Her voice rose as she spoke. “Oh my…why would she be there?”
Zack ripped his hand free of mine and flexed his fingers, his other hand forming a tight fist on the tabletop. “I don’t know. But I’m going to find that stinking son of a bitch and ask him.”
Chapter Sixteen
Zack frowned when he terminated the call, and then stared at my brother as though something had just occurred to him. “You said you’d spent months persuading her to leave. Why was that?”
Jasper sat back and tugged at his hair, a wary look on his face. “Man, I don’t know how to tell you.”
“Were you involved? With Marnie? Are you the reason she left him?” Zack’s knuckles showed white on his fists.
“No. Not at all. She was a solid friend to me when I broke up with Cindy.” Jas hesitated. “I don’t know for sure, she never said.” He spoke slowly, as though picking his words with care. Zack’s shoulders were rigid, and he sat silent and unmoving. What was this new horror Jas was about to release? “She had bruises, on her arms. A black eye once.”
Zack’s words rang in my head. My stepfather thought it was fun to push me around, and I swore I’d never behave like that, that I’d stop people like him.
Icy fingers walked down my spine, and I realized I was trembling. I wanted this to stop. Wanted Jas to stop before he made this whole situation a million times worse, but I couldn’t speak. I’m not sure if I even breathed.
Jas carried on, his voice low and unhappy. “She said she’d bumped into the cupboard, banged her head on the car door, but one day she pushed up her sleeve and you could see the finger marks. And I told her to leave. I’d help her. She could even move into the spare room here if she wanted it. She kept saying no, but she finally said yes.” He scrubbed at his face. “God. I wish I’d done it sooner.”
His words hung in the air.
Zack turned to look at me, his face a cold mask. The beautiful, affectionate man from earlier had vanished. This Zack I could imagine on the battlefield, and I shivered at the idea. “Holly, I need to use your car.” His jaw was so stiff, I’m surprised he could speak.
My brain jumped from one fear to another. He was going after Barry? He thought Barry had hurt Marnie? What would he do? He was trained to kill, after all.
“I want to go with you.” I forced the words out. If I went, too, I might be able to keep him calm.
Zack shook his head and held out his hand. “Keys.” I hesitated, and he sighed. “Let me have your keys, Holly, otherwise I’ll have to go and steal a car. And I will do that.” Tears pressed at the backs of my eyes. What could I do to stall him? I couldn’t just let him drive away.
Jas dug his fingers into my arm. “Hol. This is not a good idea.”
It wasn’t. But could I let Zack go alone? If I went with him, he might be more careful.
I fumbled in my shoulder bag and dragged out my small key ring. Zack reached for it, but I held firm. “I come with you.”
Jas let out a frustrated breath, as though he was going to speak, but I carried on. “I don’t want you to do this alone.”
Moments later, with Zack behind the wheel, we accelerated up the quiet road. “Where are we going?” I twisted my hands together, unable to keep still.
“Marnie’s house.” He sucked in a rapid breath. “
Her old place.”
“And if he’s not there?”
“I call in a few favors.”
Part of me wanted the police to stop us for speeding. Whatever Zack did, he couldn’t make this any better. I tried to untangle my knotted emotions as the trees and houses flew by. I couldn’t turn my back on him now. I had to see this through, even if my heart was shattered into a thousand pieces in the process. Was it really just an hour ago that he’d licked me into nirvana at the top of the hill? We’d been buying condoms and planning an afternoon of hot sex, and now we were on a witch-hunt. Seeking retribution. Out for blood.
“Your brother. I should have thanked him.” Dark eyes glanced at me for a moment. “I wouldn’t have known otherwise.”
What could I say? I just stared, another piece of my heart cracking.
The car pulled into a quiet tree-lined street of small clapboard houses, and Zack killed the engine, his hands dropping to his lap. His face was white and pinched, a muscle flicking in his stubbled cheek. He blew out a short breath. “Let’s go.”
I followed him out of the car and grabbed at his hand, tugging him to a stop.
Be careful. Don’t do this. Don’t wreck your career. He’s not worth it.
I didn’t know which platitude to spit out, so I just squeezed his hand and tangled our fingers together. He nodded, and we turned together and walked up a short gravel path to a bright yellow front door. The paint looked fresh and cheerful. Well cared for.
Zack banged on the door with his fist. Once, twice, and paused, then a third time. I peered at the windows, but the blinds were down. There was no answer. “Round the back,” he muttered, and led me down a narrow path. The side garden was as tidy as the front, with neat lavender bushes and a rambling rose that scrambled over a wooden trellis. We rounded the back of the house, past more windows with the blinds drawn, to another yellow door at the end of a raised wooden deck.
Beside me, Zack paused, his fingers tightening to the point of pain. He swallowed hard, his breathing suddenly ragged. “There,” he whispered, nodding to a small door set into the side of the house. “That’s the cellar.” Where she died.
I didn’t know if I felt hot or cold, and my stomach felt all quivery inside. How must he be feeling now? I twisted to wrap my arms around him, standing between him and the door.
“I have to go in there.” He buried his face in my hair, his agonized whisper hot against my ear. “I have to see it for myself.”
Chapter Seventeen
Zack grasped the door handle, flicked up the old-fashioned latch, and pulled. It opened easily onto a dark space, and I squinted, trying to see more clearly. He fastened the door against the wall and then fumbled around on the inside. Seconds later, light flooded the cellar. He took my hand again. His palm was damp, or maybe that was just mine.
Six or seven broad wooden steps led down, with a sturdy handrail attached to the wall. It looked safe and clean, and as well tended as the rest of the property. Zack made a strange noise in his throat and lifted his eyes to the blue sky above. “I’ve walked into live firefights, had bullets whizzing over my head, and survived a fucking ambush, but I’ve never been freaked out like this before. What kind of a fucking coward am I, Holly?”
“You’re no coward.” The cellar held no anguished memories for me. I slipped my hand free and, clutching the handrail tight, walked down the stairs to a flagstone floor. It was the size of a small garage, dry and tidy, with a stack of dusty logs against one wall and a pungent smell of ammonia. Cat piss. A small high window, the glass thick with dust, lay open on the opposite wall.
The hand on my shoulder made me leap almost out of my skin. I hadn’t heard Zack creep up behind me. “Holy mother of God, you startled me.” I pressed a hand against my racing heart as I spoke. “I’m going to put a bell on you if you do that again.”
“Nobody’s mentioned her cat. She wouldn’t have left Tabitha behind.”
“Would your mother have taken her?” As soon as I’d said it, I guessed it was unlikely.
Zack gave a short, wry laugh. “You’re joking, aye. Nurturing has never been her strong point.” I thought of my own mum with a pang. She gave the most amazing hugs that could cure everything from a scraped knee to a case of the blues. All these years later I still missed my parents. Poor Zack had never known that kind of love.
He stood very still, and I looked up to see him blinking hard. “Let’s check out the house. I want to find that bastard.”
The sunlight outside was a welcome contrast to the cellar, and Zack strode to the back door, banging on it with his fist. No answer, and I could hear nothing from inside the house. On an impulse, I tried the handle and the door swung open. Zack went ahead of me and stopped dead.
There was a different smell in the kitchen. A shallow bowl of fruit sat on the counter, blackened bananas oozing through split skins. The remnants of an abandoned breakfast spoke of someone leaving in a hurry, as did the open bottle of milk on the table. The sour stink turned my already churning stomach. Zack stared at the half eaten bowl of cereal and voiced my thoughts. “Nobody’s been here for days.”
I trailed behind him as he looked through the rest of the house, but there was no sign of Marnie’s boyfriend, or anyone. “Did he have a car here?”
Zack paused and thought. “Dunno. There was a silver truck last time I came.” He shrugged. The only vehicle there at the moment was my Honda.
“So what happens now?”
“I call in some favors.”
…
Neither of us wanted to stay in the house, so we sat on a low wall outside, pleasantly cool in dappled shade. While Zack sent texts and made calls, I rang Jas and updated him. Zack eventually put down his phone and scooted up next to me. “We may as well wait here. It won’t take long before my mates get back to me.” He draped his arm across my shoulders, and I snuggled in to his side. It felt strangely peaceful here after the horrors of the morning. Birds cheeped and sang. Small children’s voices drifted from a nearby garden.
“Talk to me, Holly.” His voice was hollow, as though he clung to his composure by the narrowest of threads.
“What do you want to know?”
His fingers beat a restless tattoo on my upper arm. I waited. “Your husband. Start there.”
Jesus. He made it sound easy. It was anything but. “I met Davey at school. His family had just moved to the area, and he didn’t know anyone. He was, uh, being picked on and I stepped in to help.” He followed me around like a lost puppy after that. “We became best friends, and I guess I fell in love with him.”
“You beat off the bullies, huh? Well done, you. How long were you together?”
“As in married? Not long. Only two years.”
The insistent rhythm on my arm slowed a little. “What happened?”
“I guess I didn’t love him as much as I thought.” His neediness suffocated me. Every time I tried to break up he begged me to stay.
“What did you do after that?”
“I went traveling around Europe for a year and then got a job in London. I was born in England, just before my parents emigrated to New Zealand, so I hold a European passport.” I tried to reinvent myself. Didn’t do a very good job of it.
“How long were you there?”
“Right up until two weeks ago. I only came back when Jas had his accident.”
“Oh, right. What do you do at work?”
“I’m part of the marketing team for a major advertising company.”
“You going back?”
“Of course, I’m just not sure when. As soon as Jas can manage without me.”
I was just about to get promoted into a management position and represent the team at a New York conference. If I could get back within the month, I might be able to salvage the promotion, but the New York trip would be long gone.
Zack went quiet, and I mused some more on the bad choices I’d made. Marrying Davey because I couldn’t bear to break his heart by refusing his very publ
ic proposal. Falling in love with Paolo as we backpacked across Italy. He’d had his wallet and passport stolen, and had been pathetically grateful to me for helping. Once he made it home, I was forgotten. Next one to shred my heart had been Luthor. He’d played the stereotypical role of starving artist to perfection. He even had a tiny top-floor apartment in Paris. Someone had beaten and robbed him, and I’d taken him to the hospital, and then back to his place. That affair lasted until his next sale and the emaciated beauty who modeled for him.
Arriving in London, I dropped my old personality like a pair of dirty shoes. I dated suave, confident men. I only slept with Fabian, and that was just a handful of times. I couldn’t handle casual sex.
And now here I was, wrapping up my heart, ready to hand it over to a man I felt sorry for, in the full knowledge that he was only using me as a distraction. I hadn’t changed at all.
Chapter Eighteen
Zack’s voice sharpened when he took the next call. He paced up and down, phone pressed to his ear, speaking in clipped phrases, before returning to me.
“Barry’s not been at work this week, so there’s no point going there, but apparently he hangs out at The Pines.” I must have looked blank. “The pub in the next village.”
I glanced at my watch. “It’s early afternoon. Do you think he’ll be there?”
Zack shrugged. “It’s the best lead I’ve got.”
We drove in silence, anxiety gnawing a hole in my chest with every kilometer we traveled. The journey took less than fifteen minutes but felt like hours. In my head I’d run through every scenario I could imagine, but each one ended up the same. Zack beating Barry to a bloody pulp. Zack being arrested.
The pub car park was quiet, and we went silently, hand in hand, into the shabby building. I’d never been there before. From the outside, it looked like a quiet bar on the end of a row of shops. I swallowed, trying to ease my dry throat. Ever since we’d walked into Marnie’s house, a heavy weight had taken residence in my chest, and I didn’t know how much more of this I could take.