by T. L. Haddix
Stacy was relieved to hear those words. “If it wouldn’t be too inconvenient, I’d like to meet with you. Early tomorrow, if possible.”
“Of course. Will you come here, or do I need to come to Leroy?”
“I can come to you. How does nine o’clock work for you?”
“That’s fine. I’ll see you then.”
She ended the call and opened her desk drawer again, this time to grab a bottle of ibuprofen. Downing two tablets with the rest of the bottle of water, she stood and stretched, then headed down the hall to the conference room. It was time to start learning who Charity Vaughn was.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lauren stood at her mother’s sink, looking outside, her hip against the counter, as she talked to Beth on the phone. It had been a very long day. Her parents and Ava were in the backyard, and as she spoke, she saw Charlie walk over to Molly. They watched Winston pilot the new RC plane Molly’d given him for his birthday, and it took all Lauren’s concentration to pull her eyes away from her study of Charlie’s backside.
“Oh, my God. I’m in such trouble,” she said, feeling a flush cover her body from head to toe. She actually started tingling in places she had thought were dead. Especially not just from looking at a man.
Beth paused. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you? And why are you in trouble?”
Forcing herself to turn away from the distracting view, she apologized. “Because I’m in lust. In serious lust, maybe for the first time in my life. And no, I’m sorry. I completely missed what you were saying.”
There was shocked silence on the other end of the call. “Um, okay. Well, if you were anyone else, I’d probably be offended, but since I know you and how seriously you avoid men, I’ll let it go. This time. And I want details, so don’t think I’m forgetting about this. But what I was saying was, they found Charity Vaughn dead today in her apartment.”
Lauren felt guilty about her distraction when Beth’s words registered. “What? You’re kidding me! What happened?”
“Apparently she was murdered. I didn’t get the call, but from what Julius says, it was pretty bad.”
“Oh, my God. That poor woman. When did it happen, do you know?”
“Some time last night, I guess.”
Lauren felt chills run down her spine. Gooseflesh stood out on her arms, effectively quelling the warm flush she had gotten from looking at Charlie. “You don’t think her death is connected to the vandalism, do you?”
Beth hmmm’d a little before she answered. “Well, it’s an awfully big coincidence, don’t you think? I mean, we have practically no crime downtown, and then in the space of a few days, your shop is virtually destroyed and another business owner is murdered. My gut tells me there’s something connecting the two, I’m sorry to say.”
“Damn. Your gut’s usually right. Charity Vaughn—I hate to hear that, Beth.”
“I know. So do I. A lot of women here in town didn’t like her because she was, well, popular with the men, let’s say? But she was always nice to me, and I know my neighbor, Raven, adored her.” She sighed. “Anyhow, I won’t keep you much longer—even though I’m tempted to ferret out who you’re in lust with—but what are you doing tomorrow night? Do you have plans?”
“No, not really. My hands are pretty well tied until Friday when the contractors start, and I’m actually caught up on paperwork. Why, what do you have in mind?”
“Annie and I would like to kidnap you tomorrow evening for a girls’ night out. You could use a break, and so could we.”
She nervously tucked her hair behind her ears and glanced back outside. “I don’t know, Beth. It’s the middle of the week, and what about Ava?”
“Let your parents take her for the night. She’ll be fine, and they’ll love it. And yeah, it’s the middle of the week, but it isn’t like you have to get up at the crack of dawn on Wednesday, now, is it?”
“I guess not,” Lauren replied. “I’ll talk to Mom. That’s all I’m promising.”
Beth laughed. “Okay, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Smiling at her friend’s optimism, she hung up and went outside to join the others. Charlie watched her walk up, and held a hand out to her. She grasped it and squeezed, and he pulled her forward so that she was standing beside him. His arm brushed against her breast, and just like that, the heat was back.
“You look tired,” he said.
“Gee, thanks. That’s just what a girl loves to hear at the end of the day.” He opened his mouth to protest and she laughed. “I’m teasing.”
Winston shot her a happy grin. “Lauren, don’t torture the poor boy. He’s been on pins and needles waiting for you to get out here.”
Charlie’s flush deepened. “Yeah, well…” He shrugged. “Didn’t somebody mention ice cream?”
Ava jumped up and down with enthusiasm. “Yes! Grandma and Grandpa want to go to the Widow’s Walk,” she said, referring to the ice cream stand housed in a Victorian-era house on the river. She leaned against Lauren’s leg and looking up at her with wide eyes. “Doesn’t that sound yummy?”
“It does, Ava-bear. But I think I’ll stay here and let you all go without me, if it’s all the same.” She directed the statement at her mother, who was watching her closely.
“Are you okay, honey?”
She smiled. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”
“But, Mommy, don’t you want any ice cream?”
“They have fresh, homemade strawberry this time of year,” her father reminded her as he brought his new plane in and packed it up.
“I’ll keep your mom company while you all go, Ava,” Charlie told her with a gentle tug on the little girl’s ponytail. “You can always bring us back something.”
With a look entirely too calculating for a seven-year-old, she pondered his words, looking back and forth between him and her mother. “Okay, Charlie.” She turned to her grandmother. “I’m ready to go.”
Molly laughed, picking her up for a hug. “Just like that, huh?”
“Yep, just like that.”
“I know what flavor Lauren wants, but what about you, Charlie? And how much?” Molly asked.
He grinned. “I could go for a little chocolate ice cream, I suppose. Maybe three scoops?”
Winston tsked them. “Chocolate and strawberry. You people are Puritans. What’s wrong with double chocolate macadamia with caramel? Toffee and cream?”
“Not a thing, Daddy.” Lauren shook her head. “Sometimes less is more, though.”
“And sometimes more is more.”
“Great comeback, honey.” Molly rolled her eyes at Winston as they headed into the house. “We’ll probably eat ours down there. Is that okay?” she asked over her shoulder.
Lauren couldn’t look at Charlie. “That’s fine.”
Her mother’s look was filled with mischief. “I figured it might be.”
When they disappeared into the house, Charlie laughed. “She doesn’t miss a thing, does she?”
“No. And believe me, my brother found that out the hard way when we were growing up. So, what’s the plan here?”
“I thought we might make use of that comfortable-looking swing in the backyard. Does that sound okay?”
“Sounds good. Lead on.” They walked across the grass to the arbor. As Lauren sat, she tucked her feet up under the skirt of her long sundress. The swing had a spectacular view of the city below, and the river that wound around the bluffs. Feeling some of the stress of the day start to fade, she rested her arms on her knees, and leaned against him slightly. He tucked his arm around her shoulders.
“How are you?”
“I’m okay, I guess. I didn’t want to say anything in front of Ava, but I talked to Beth a few minutes ago. She told me that Charity Vaughn has been murdered.”
He frowned, trying to place the name. “The lady who owns the gallery? What happened?”
“Apparently they found her body this afternoon, up in her apartment above the gall
ery. Did you know her?”
Charlie moved his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable. “Not really.”
She studied him in the fading light. “What? Something’s bothering you.”
“Nothing, really. Just—she expressed interest in dating me when I came back to town.” When he saw her raised eyebrows, he winced. “I probably shouldn’t have mentioned that.”
Lauren tried to be nonchalant. “Why not? She was a very pretty, sensual woman. You’re attractive and straight. It’s a fairly simple boy-meets-girl equation.”
He disagreed. “Not that she wasn’t attractive, but she was way too aggressive for my liking.” He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “I know a lot of people have a casual view of sex these days, but I’m not one of them. I saw how much that attitude hurt my parents, and I guess it made an impression.”
“Oh.” She turned her attention back to the view, surprised by his words.
“How well did you know her?” He moved his arm so that he could play with the ends of her hair.
“Not well, really. She was in the LBL, and I went in The Gallery a time or two. She came in the shop pretty frequently. She and Ava had a good rapport. It always surprised me, because Charity was so sophisticated and polished, but she had a really wicked sense of humor, and she never acted like she was better than anyone else. For all that friendliness, though, I don’t think she was close to anyone, really.” Charlie grunted.
“What?”
“Just that she had a lot of dates with different men. I’d see her in the Lighthouse often. It doesn’t surprise me that she didn’t seem close to anyone. Women like her usually don’t have intimate friends. They tend to see other women as competition.”
“Now hang on a second. Didn’t you accuse me once of being one of ‘those women’?” She drew back so she could meet his gaze. Not sure whether to be offended or amused, she watched as, flustered, he tried to figure out what to say next.
“The kind of woman you are and the kind of woman she was—they’re not even close to being the same thing.”
“Excuse me?”
“Crap.” With a groan, he laid his head back on the padded swing and rubbed his eyes. “She was a player. You aren’t.” He cleared his throat. “I’m just digging deeper here, aren’t I?”
Taking pity on him, she patted his cheek. “I know what you’re trying to say.” She laid her head on his shoulder and snuggled a little closer. “Not all women are cut out for the family life and commitment, you know. I’ve often wondered if I wasn’t one of them.”
Charlie stared at her, incredulous. “You’re kidding, right?” When she looked away from him and shook her head, he gently turned her face back to his. “Lady, you’ve got ‘white picket fence’ written all over you. You nurture everyone around you, and from what I’ve seen, kids think you’re the bomb. Why in the world would you think you’re not cut out to be a wife and mother?”
Lauren was very quiet as she sat there, arms crossed, and looked out over the darkening vista in front of them. “When I married David, I had some Pollyanna picture in my head about what married life was going to be like. It was nothing like what I’d imagined, what I’d seen with my own parents. Instead, it was little more than a three-year-long argument. I tried to be the perfect wife, and the harder I tried, the worse it got. By the time Ava was born, we were barely speaking.” She swallowed. “The fact that she was even conceived was something of a miracle. We’d decided to give our marriage one last shot, and I got pregnant. She wasn’t planned, and becoming parents was something neither of us wanted at that point in our lives, especially since we realized the marriage wasn’t salvageable. I filed for divorce two days before I found out I was pregnant. Can you imagine?”
“You could have chosen another route,” he said quietly.
“Abortion? No, that was never an option for me. Look, I believe women have the right to manage our own bodies, but I also believe that when we choose to have sex, we’re signing up for whatever happens as a result. Pregnancy is always a risk, and if it occurs, then you deal with it. Ava didn’t ask to be conceived. It just happened. I wasn’t thrilled with the knowledge that I’d soon be a divorced, single parent, but I dealt with it. The first few months after she was born were some of the hardest times I’ve ever known, but from the moment I first saw her image on the ultrasound screen, I knew she’d be worth the stress. Every day I thank God for her,” she continued, “because if I hadn’t had her? Knowing that little girl has made me a better person.” She stopped for a minute to gather her thoughts.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that, while I love being her mother, I just don’t think I’m cut out to be a wife.”
“Do you say that because your first marriage didn’t work out?”
She could feel her cheeks flaming in the darkness, and hoped Charlie couldn’t see them. “No. Not because of that. God, this is embarrassing. I don’t enjoy intimacy, if you must know. That was part of the problem between me and David. I have issues with physical intimacy.” She stood up and walked over to lean against the fence, humiliated by what she had just admitted.
After a minute, he walked over to stand beside her. “Have you had any counseling? About the assault, I mean?”
She nodded. “After Ava was born.”
“Did your therapist tell you that it wasn’t unusual for women who’ve been assaulted to have issues with physical contact? That even in perfect relationships, it sometimes takes work to get past those?”
Lauren looked at him. “How do you know that?”
“I have a friend whose wife went through something similar to your assault. They hit a rough spot a few years ago, and he talked to me about it. He was terrified of doing the wrong thing, of hurting her more, but they went to counseling and learned how to handle her issues when they came up.”
She didn’t know what to say. That was the last response she had been expecting. “Oh.”
“How supportive was David about what had happened to you?”
She went back to the swing. Sitting in the corner, she tucked her feet up under her skirt again. “He was aware of it, certainly, but we were young and ignorant, and neither of us really knew how to handle it. We mostly ignored it. The topic was the elephant in the room no one wanted to talk about.”
“Have you ever tried being intimate with anyone else?” He sat back down, his gaze on his feet.
Lauren felt her entire body flush. “This is so embarrassing. I’m a grown woman, and I can’t even talk to a man about sex, for cripes sake. To answer your question, no. I’ve not. Until recently, I’d never met anyone who made me want to try.”
He drew in a sharp breath at the confession. “Anyone I know?”
“You know I’m talking about you. At least, I hope you know that.”
Charlie was perfectly still for what seemed like the longest time, then he slowly reached his hand out to hers. “Come here. Just come sit beside me, please. Let me hold you.”
She watched him carefully before she moved over and let him draw her close. Resting her head against his shoulder, she closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath. His warmth seemed to surround her, even though she only touched him along one side of her body. Her heart pounded in her chest.
“I’ve never wanted to be touched by a man before, not really, even David. It always felt unclean, somehow. But I don’t feel that way with you, and that scares me to death. With you, I want more touching, not less.”
“God, Lauren, you kill me.” His voice choked and, catching her other hand, he brought it up to his chest and held it, kissing her knuckles. Holding her close, he leaned back and pushed the swing gently with his foot. For a while, they just held each other, and then he spoke.
“You know I’m attracted to you, right?”
She nodded jerkily. She’d started down this road tonight, and she’d see it through to wherever it ended even if it killed her. “Yes, I know. So what do we do with the attraction?”
He made a
comfortable sound. “What do you want to do?”
Lauren moved her head against his shoulder. “Honestly? I want to stay right here in this swing and not move for the next week. That’s not an option, though, and that doesn’t answer your question.” Pulling her hand from his, she drew back far enough to see his face. She gently touched his cheek, moving her fingers over his lips with a feather-light caress. At her touch, he went still, barely breathing.
As she explored the contours of his face, she answered. “I guess I want this to be easy, to not scare me. I want to be able to kiss you, or be kissed by you, and not feel ashamed or inadequate. I know the difference intellectually between what happened back then and what would be taking place between us, but intellectually and emotionally are two different things. You understand?”
He swallowed, and kissed her fingertips. “I do understand. The last thing I want to do is scare you. You tell me what you’re comfortable with, and if I do something that makes you uneasy, or that you don’t want me to do, tell me to stop and I will. I won’t get mad, I won’t punish you. Okay?”
The solemnity of his expression brought tears to her eyes. “Okay.”
“Would it make you more comfortable if I told you that I’m not exactly the most experienced guy in the world?”
“What do you mean?”
His smile flashed in the dark. “It’s my turn for embarrassing confessions. I’m not a virgin. But I haven’t been with very many women, and I’ve never treated sex casually.” He pushed her hair away from her face. “It comes back to that whole thing with my parents. It left its own scars.”
She touched his cheek. “It does help to hear that. Thank you for telling me.”
“You are very welcome.” He turned his face to nuzzle her hand. “I’d like very much to kiss you right now, but only if you want me to.”
“Just a kiss?”
“Just a kiss,” he promised. “A very good kiss, hopefully, but just a kiss.” When she nodded ‘yes,’ he closed his eyes and swallowed hard.
“Okay, then.” Making a production of his movements, he stretched his arms out to the sides and rotated his shoulders as though loosening up for exercise. He pretended to roll his sleeves up, even though he wore a t-shirt, and cracked his knuckles, making her smile.