“I know you are, and he seems to feel the same way about you.”
“Yes, I think he does.”
She waved a hand. “Go on your trip and have a wonderful time. And don’t worry—when your mom starts pumping my mom for information, I’ll be sure and drill it in that it’s nothing more than a simple work trip.” She made air quotes.
Guilt pummeled over Chloe. “Thank you. I know I should’ve told my mom the truth.”
A feigned look of horror came over Darbie’s face. “Yikes! If you had, she would’ve been on the first plane out here.”
Chloe chuckled. “You’re right about that.”
“I figure what your mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Hank is your boss … and I’m sure you’ll manage to somehow squeeze in the topic of work during the trip.”
Chloe gave her an appreciative smile. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She winked. “I’ve got your back.”
23
Chapter 23
Chloe was going with him to Bodega Bay! That was one bright spot in the midst of the tragedy—something he could hold onto. Hank willed himself to concentrate on the trip and all of the things he would show Chloe once they arrived. That lasted about five minutes, and then his mind was drawn right back to the thing he was trying to avoid—the brutal guilt he felt over Garrett’s death! It bubbled up like acid in his throat, and no matter how hard he tried to swallow the pain, it kept plaguing him over and over. He kept asking himself if there was anything he could’ve done to avoid it.
The accident report showed that Garrett was not only speeding but also driving recklessly up the canyon. The officers investigating the accident had brought up the possibility of suicide, but that was so far fetched and out of the question that he didn’t give it a second thought. Garrett’s instinct for survival was stronger than anyone’s he knew—including his own. In Hank’s mind, he could think of only two logical scenarios that would’ve led to Garrett’s erratic behavior—either he was drunk out of his mind, or he was being chased. His gut told him it was the latter, especially considering the fact that V had swallowed her pride and come to him, asking for help on Garrett’s behalf. Garrett was a compulsive gambler and was always getting in over his head. If a person gave Garrett $20, he’d owe $40 by the end of the week. Hank had bailed him out too many times to count. He’d bailed him out until he couldn’t do it any longer. Finally, when Garrett’s debts were starting to put the business in jeopardy, he cut him off. It was around that same time when Garrett had started his “real estate company.” Even though Hank hoped with all of his heart that Garrett was on the straight and narrow, a part of him had known the truth. For some time, he’d suspected that Garrett might be the copycat Ghost Thief. The thefts had all been relatively simply as far as thefts went—a walk in the park for Garrett who knew almost as much about the business as he did—with the exception of cracking safes. Garrett had not possessed the patience needed to learn that. Even as methodical as Hank was, it had stretched him to the limit—taking him years to become an expert. Like him, Garrett was agile enough to climb anything, and loved the thrill of extreme sports. A personality such as his would thrive in the intoxicating world of theft. Unfortunately, Garrett had not learned that the victory was hollow. The thirst for the thrill of the chase could never be sated, for there would always be a more exciting or lucrative job, looming on the horizon.
Oh, he’d convinced himself that Garrett was clean, but that was mostly because he didn’t want to have to face the fact that his brother was getting in deeper and deeper over his head. Hank was so desperate to separate himself from his past that he’d turned a blind eye to what Garrett was really doing. Every time Detective Flores came sniffing around, asking questions about the reoccurring Ghost Thefts, it lay on Hank’s tongue to drop some hint that would lead him in Garrett’s direction. After all, it was his time in prison—and the grief over Guy’s death—that had prompted him to go on the straight and narrow. But prison had been hell, and he didn’t wish that on anybody, especially not his own brother. A part of him wondered why the detective never thought to investigate Garrett. Then again, Jared was so determined to pin the thefts on him that he couldn’t see past the end of his nose. And he didn’t know Garrett like Hank did.
At the funeral home, he about lost it when V leaned in and whispered that Sam needed to talk to him about Garrett’s debts. It was all Hank could do to keep his composure. In that instant, any lingering sentiments that he felt for V vanished. He saw her for what she was—manipulative and dangerous. His thoughts went to Sam as a burning anger pulsed through him. He tightened his hands on the steering wheel. If Sam had anything to do with Garrett’s death, so help him …”
He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to get a handle on his emotions. In the old days, he would’ve hunted Sam down and made him pay for what he’d done, but Hank was a changed man. He’d promised himself that he would never go down that path again. A part of him realized that if he were to open up that part of himself again, it might destroy him this time. And there was Chloe to consider. There was no doubt that he was falling in love with her. She and Glory were the only two things he had left, and he wasn’t about to do anything that would put them in harm’s way. If Sam were somehow responsible for Garrett’s death then he was going to have to trust that the investigators would come to that conclusion and the law would take its course. Even as he thought the words, he knew there was no hope of that ever happening. Still, he couldn’t allow himself to get dragged into some sordid game of revenge. Had he not been afraid that Detective Flores would think he was an accessory to the thefts, he would’ve called him up and told him that he suspected that Garrett was the thief.
He stepped out of his car and heard something in the parking garage. His muscles went tense as he looked over his shoulder. When he realized there was no one there, his pulse returned to normal. He chuckled inwardly. Old habits died hard. He wondered if he would ever stop looking over his shoulder.
He got on the elevator and punched the button to go up to his floor. As the door opened, and he walked down the hall toward his condo, he felt the eerie sensation of being watched. He quickened his steps in order to reach his condo but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the white envelope, leaning against the door. He picked it up and turned it over. It was blank. He looked back in the direction from which he’d come. No one was there. He unlocked the door, stepped inside, and locked it behind him. He placed his keys on the counter and opened it. His breath caught as he began to read:
I was sorry to hear about Garrett’s passing. Unfortunately, he left some unsettled debts. We need to talk! I always collect … one way or another.
S---
Hank swore and crumbled up the note in his fist. Then, he tossed it across the room. Tears stung his eyes as rage boiled inside him. Now he knew for sure that Sam was responsible for Garrett’s death.
* * *
Chloe would later remember it as a soft flutter against her lips. She sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. She’d been in a deep sleep—thankfully, a dreamless sleep—when something had awoken her. She touched her lips. It almost felt like someone had kissed her. That was odd. Had someone been in her room? She frowned as the familiar panic raced through her veins. Not this again! Things had been going so well that she thought Dan had finally disappeared from her life. Tears gathered in her eyes as she looked around the dark room. Her gaze went to the open suitcase on the floor and the clothes that she’d neatly folded and placed inside it. Then her eyes fell on Beasty, who was sitting in the chair that Glory had given her—watching her intently. She had the impression that his keen eyes were trying to tell her something as he glanced at the window. She looked in the direction Beasty was looking and rocked back in horror. For there, in the window was a face. A scream tore through her throat before she could silence it.
* * *
Darbie came rushing into the room. Her hair was all over the place, her eyes wild.
“What’s wrong?”
Chloe was sitting in the bed, clutching the covers in her fists. There was a stricken look on her face.
Darbie went to her side. “Are you okay?”
“I saw him,” she managed to squeak.
Concern filled Darbie’s eyes. “You saw Dan?”
Chloe began shaking her head back and forth. “No! It wasn’t Dan!”
“Then who?”
“Garrett!” A new dread filled her eyes as she spoke. “I saw Garrett.”
* * *
“Okay, start at the beginning and tell me what happened.”
Darbie’s voice was controlled and practical, sounding very much like the cop she one day hoped to become. She and Chloe were sitting in the kitchen. The morning sun was streaming in through the window and splashing onto the floor, making the events from the night before seem less ominous. More than anything, Chloe regretted screaming and bringing everything to Darbie’s attention. If she had it her way, she would’ve dubbed the incident a nightmare and never mentioned it again, but it was obvious that Darbie had no intention of letting it go.
“I was sound asleep, and I felt something touch my lips.”
“Felt something? What? Beasty?”
“No, it was soft and light.” Her face colored slightly. “The only way I can describe it is like a butterfly landed on my lips. Like a soft kiss.”
“Are you sure you didn’t dream the whole thing?”
She shrugged. “It could’ve been a dream,” she added quickly, even though she didn’t think it was. It had felt so real. But she didn’t want Darbie to think she was losing it, so she had to appear rational.
“You’ve been pretty distraught over Garrett’s death.”
“Yes, I have.”
“Okay, so you’re sleeping, and you feel something touch your lips. Then what happened?”
“I looked around the room to see if anyone was there. Of course, no one was. My suitcase was open, and my clothes were in it. Everything was exactly the same as it had been when I fell asleep.” She stopped, her heart picking up a notch. No, everything wasn’t the same—not exactly. That’s what had been bothering her the night before.
Darbie picked up on her body language. “What?”
Chloe cocked her head. “Did you come into my room and move my laptop from the chair?”
“Really?” Darbie made a face. “Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know.” She paused. “When I went to bed last night, I left my laptop on the chair.” She motioned. “You know that crazy chair that my client gave me.”
“Yeah, the one you keep talking about recovering.”
“When I woke up, Beasty was curled up in the chair, and my laptop was on the desk.”
Darbie looked skeptical. “Are you sure? Could you have moved it from the chair to the desk before you went to bed?”
Chloe searched her brain, trying to remember. “Yeah, it’s possible.” She shook her head. “But I could’ve sworn I left it on the chair. I was reading about Bodega Bay before I went to bed, and I didn’t want to have to get out of bed and put it on the desk, so I left it on the chair.”
Darbie tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Why would anyone move your laptop from the chair to the desk?”
The skeptical tone in Darbie’s voice was irritating. “I don’t know.” She raked her hair out of her face. “Look, I know this all sounds crazy, and I probably did dream the whole thing.” She paused.
“But?” Darbie prompted.
“But, it felt so real. Something woke me up, and then Beasty was looking at the window. He sensed something was off too. I looked at the window because Beasty was looking in that direction.” As the words trailed off, she knew how ridiculous she sounded. She hated the uncertainty that crept into Darbie’s eyes. The look that said, You’re crazy! How many times had she seen her mother give that same look?
“Well, maybe we should ask Beasty,” Darbie said, an exasperated look on her face. “Or better yet—maybe Beasty moved it.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “No need to get smart about it!” The conversation was taking a turn for the worse. She had to try and salvage things the best she could. She forced a light tone into her voice as she continued. “I’m sure it was a dream. That’s the only logical explanation.”
Darbie studied her with sharp eyes. “Yes,” she said, looking relieved. “You’ve been super stressed over Garrett’s death. It’s not uncommon to have a nightmare about it.”
“Exactly,” Chloe agreed.
Darbie gave her a suspicious look. “Are you just saying this to try and minimize the situation?”
“Goodness no,” Chloe said with a shaky laugh.
Darbie was unconvinced. “Maybe you should get help. Talk to a therapist. You’ve been through so much … what could it hurt?”
A shiver of horror ran down Chloe’s spine as her lips formed a hard line. It was bad enough that she’d been seeing Dan … but Garrett too? She couldn’t think about it too much or the horror would overtake her, and she’d never get back to normal. “I tell you, I’m fine.” She looked Darbie in the eye, daring her to disagree.
“Okay.” Darbie held up her hands. “But you have to promise me that if anything else strange happens that you’ll get help.”
Silence.
“Promise me,” Darbie said, eyeing her.
“You have my word.” She paused. “Hey, this is changing the subject, but don’t you have a hot date this weekend with your professor?”
A look of pleasure came over Darbie’s face. “Yes, Logan and I are going out.”
“Oh, I see you’re on a first name basis now,” Chloe teased, relieved that she’d managed to steer the conversation away from her. “What about Steve? Aren’t the two of you still dating?”
Darbie made a sour face. “I don’t know what we’re doing half the time. One thing I do know is that we’re not married, so if I decide to go on a date with someone else then that’s my business. Steve can just get over it.”
Chloe chuckled. “Alridy then. I guess that solves that. I’m sorry I won’t be here to meet the professor.”
Darbie wrinkled her nose. “Me too. But if I have anything to say about it, this will be the first of many dates to come. You can meet him next time.”
“Sounds great.”
They looked over as Beasty strode into the room.
“Hey, boy, come here,” Darbie said.
Chloe was about to remind her that Beasty never followed orders when he walked over and forcefully rubbed his head against Darbie’s leg. She gathered him in her arms and began stroking his fur. He began purring like a loud motor.
Chloe made a face. “You really are a traitor, Beasty! Whether you realize it or not, you belong to me—not Darbie.”
Darbie chuckled. “Hey, don’t be a spoiled sport. Beasty knows a good thing when he sees it. We’re big buds, aren’t we, Beasty?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s because you keep feeding him those cans of tuna.”
“That’s not the only reason,” Darbie cooed. “It’s also because of my magnetic personality and killer good looks, right Beasty?”
A pout formed on Chloe’s lips, even though she wasn’t nearly as upset about Beasty’s transfer of affection as she was when she first moved in with Darbie. “Fickle cat,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.
“Don’t listen to her, Beasty.”
The conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence until Darbie looked her in the eye. “I’m glad you’re going on this trip. It’ll be good for you and Hank to get away. He’s a good guy, and he’s good for you.”
The meaning of her words were clear—You need to get away before you completely flip your lid.
“Yeah, I’m glad too.”
24
Chapter 24
Darbie scowled when they pulled into the parking lot of In-N-Out Burger. She liked burgers as much as the next person, but it was hardly where she wanted to be taken for a date.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” she said curtly.
After they’d placed their orders, they sat down in a booth. Logan gave her a courtesy smile and then began drumming his fingers on the table like he couldn’t wait to leave. That left her, trying to figure out something to talk about. When he wasn’t blabbering on about a case in a lecture setting, he didn’t have much to say. Big disappointment! Professor McDreamy wasn’t so dreamy after all. He was a dud! It was going to be a long night. She suddenly wished she’d not been so quick to throw Steve under the bus.
“So, is this one of your favorite restaurants?”
“It’s okay,” he said casually.
Her eyes narrowed as she sat up taller in her seat. “So, is this where you take all of your dates?”
A look of surprise flickered over him. “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess this isn’t the greatest place to take a date. Would you like to go somewhere else?”
Yes, she wanted to go somewhere else! She wanted to be swept off her feet—romanced! She wanted a Hank Singleton like Chloe had. That’s what she wanted, not some stiff-shirt that was acting like it was a chore to go out with her. “No, you’ve already paid for the food, we might as well eat it.”
“I’m sorry.” He gave her a placating smile. “I’m afraid I’m not much for dating, and it shows.”
This mollified her a little. Before she could think of a reply, their number was called, and he went to get their food.
They ate in silence, except for the couple of times when Darbie could think up some inane thing to say. Finally, she grew tired of trying. There was no point in making conversation. Hopefully, after this, he would take her home, and then she could forget all about this disastrous night. How could she have ever found this man attractive? Well, he was still attractive—to look at—she conceded, but he was a real bore! Certainly no Tommy Lee Jones!
When Darkness Falls Page 25