by Kait Nolan
Lana is dead.
The words haunted her.
They kept playing in her head, coming back to her when she grew quiet. They pounded her brain in a dull thumping cadence. Striking her heart in the same brutal manner.
Mile after mile passed in silence. Dallas reached over and placed his hand on top of hers. She turned her grip so their palms were together.
Connected like that, they drove the rest of the way to Suwannee Grove.
~*~
Damn. Dallas hated seeing Shelby hurting like this. Hated knowing the reason she came back to Florida wasn’t for him or because she’d decided to move home, but to lay her only sister to rest. Right now though, standing on her parents’ porch, he wanted to ask her to stay with him. This wasn’t going to be an easy reunion for her.
He watched as she lifted her finger to ring the doorbell. “Really? You’re going to ring the bell to a place where you grew up?”
She made a face. “I didn’t leave here under the best circumstances and haven’t been back since. Thirteen years is a long time to be gone.” Shelby leaned into him and lowered her voice. “Besides, I’m not sure how welcome I’ll be. Just barging in seems an invasion of privacy.”
His guts twisted for the pain this family had gone through—but mostly for Shelby. Finding out at sixteen the woman who raised her wasn’t her biological mother had devastated her. The news had been so shocking she’d jumped out of the car in traffic and ran to Dallas’s house, where his mother had given both love and comfort. Dallas had sat there reeling from the madness. Though Shelby had never spoken of the particulars of the fight she’d had with Emma Steele that prompted dropping such a huge bomb in a teen Shelby’s lap, Dallas had gone into a rage over it. To this day, if he saw either Mr. or Mrs. Steele coming his way, he avoided them.
Now, he stood next to Shelby, ready to give her support or a place to stay if she needed it.
Dallas lifted his hand, indicating the doorbell. “Go ahead then.”
Shelby rang the bell. A few minutes passed before the sound of feet came from the back of the house. The door opened to reveal Max, standing there with a confused look on his face.
“What are you doing ringing the bell?”
Shelby gave a shrug. “Didn’t know what kind of reception I’d get.”
“Weirdo.” Even as he said the words, he opened his arms and enveloped her in a strong hug. His gaze found Dallas’s. “Thanks for picking her up. I had to go to the funeral home with mama and dad.”
Shelby pulled away and looked around. “Are they here?”
“No. They’ve gone to Lana’s apartment to get a few things. They wanted to be alone for that.”
Strange ass people. Why would they shut their own son out of that? Dallas shook his head. People mourned in different ways. Maybe they just wanted privacy to feel close to their daughter one last time. Who the hell knew? He was glad he didn’t have to see them. The viewing and the funeral would be soon enough. He’d have to brace himself for that and hopefully get lost in the crowd. He’d be there mostly to support Shelby and Max anyhow.
“You tired or hungry after your flight?” Max slid his arm around Shelby and guided her through the house into the kitchen.
Dallas followed with her suitcase. “Where do you want me to put this?”
“Shelby’s old room. You remember where that’s at?”
Dallas gave a nod and moved off to the left and down the hallway to the end. Shelby’s room had been converted from an old walk-in closet. However, Shelby had filled it with posters from cities all over the world. Books, movies, music. Escape.
He opened the door and wasn’t surprised to find the room redecorated and frilly. Not at all Shelby-like. The bed was gone, replaced by a small sofa—probably a sleeper kind. Really? They were going to make her sleep on a sofa in a closet when there were at least two other bedrooms.
Dallas put the case down and headed back into the kitchen. He gave Max a penetrating stare. “Shelby, you might want to check out your old room and see if it’s going to work for you. If not, I can either set you up at my place or at my parents’.”
Shelby turned and set the glass of iced tea on the table as she brushed by him. “What’s wrong with my room?”
“Let’s just say it’s not how you remember it.”
“Well, you didn’t expect it to stay the same, did you?” Max called after them.
Shelby stopped dead in front of Dallas as she looked around the tiny room. “I’m hoping that sofa converts.”
“Yes.” Max’s tone showed his irritation.
“I suppose I could always tiptoe into Lana’s old room after everyone goes to sleep.”
Max made a face. “Mama locked the door. Doesn’t want anyone in there.”
Shelby exchanged looks with Dallas before she turned to her brother. “I’ll make it work for me for one night. If I don’t or can’t sleep, I’ll find a hotel. I don’t want to put anyone out.”
“Fair enough.” Dallas leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Call if you need anything.”
“I don’t have your number.”
He reached into his wallet and pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “It’s got my cell phone on there.”
“Thanks.” She looked down at the card and ran her thumb over the embossed letters.
Dallas gave a small wave. “See you, Max.”
“Bye. And thanks again for picking her up.”
Dallas gave a nod and left before any of the rant he felt building came out of his mouth. Thirteen years and he still bled for Shelby. Still ached with a hurt that threatened to lay him up for days.
He walked out to his truck and got in.
It had been all he could do to not tell her the truth—both of them. He started the engine and pulled out of the drive, heading toward the police station where Asa was on duty.
He pulled up into the parking lot just as Asa was getting out of a squad car and heading into the building. Asa stopped when he saw Dallas’s truck and waited for him to catch up.
“So how did it go?” Asa asked by way of greeting.
“Like I want to go and take my frustration out in the batting cages.” Dallas ran a hand through his hair. “They have her sleeping on a sofa in her old room. Can you believe that shit? Emma locked Lana’s door so no one could get in.”
Asa made a face and looked down at his shoes. “How’s Shelby holding up?”
“Better than I expected, but not good.”
Asa raised a brow. “How you holding up?”
“I’ll make it.”
Truth of the matter, making it was the last thing he was going to do. He’d kept something from both Asa and Shelby. Oh, it was innocent enough, but it still made him feel dirty as hell. Only because of his requited feelings for Shelby. She had been and still was the love of his life. The one he measured all others by. She’d moved up to New York and hardly spoke to him after. Now she was back for her sister’s funeral, and he felt as if he’d been raked through the coals again.
Dallas sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. “On second thought, ask me that again once she goes back. I might have a different answer for you.”
Chapter Two
Gardenias. The entire funeral home smelled like god-damned gardenias.
Shelby took in the sweet, cloying scent and curled her lip. She understood her family wanted to pretend everything in their world was as it should be, but for fuck’s sake, they could have forgone the gardenias. Why in the hell hadn’t anyone thought to fill the funeral home with roses? Yellow roses. The delicate blooms had always been Lana’s favorite. But, family history had gardenias at Steele family funerals—the Steele women in particular.
The truth of the matter was, nothing was ever going to be the same again and pretending it otherwise wouldn’t change the fact Lana was gone.
Suicide. That hateful, gut-wrenching word.
Every time she thought about it, a gorge rose in the back of her throat and made her want to h
eave into one of the overstuffed planters. Not that anyone in this place would notice. The interior was truly god-awful. The décor was something out of a Vegas wedding chapel nightmare. Red crushed velvet furniture and curtains were a counterpoint to deep teak paneling. The overall effect made the atmosphere depressing and oppressive.
She took a place in a quiet corner and searched the crowd for Dallas. He had a way of making her feel at ease when the entire world was out of step. He’d yet to arrive.
Was it wrong to want to skip this part of the mourning process? To only want to figure out how Lana took such a drastic last step and why no one had seen the warning signs?
Someone had to have known something about the circumstances. Not everyone who knew and loved Lana could have turned a blind eye to her struggles.
Knowing the reason might not make the pain go away, but it might shed some light on the situation and Shelby was in need of a little enlightening.
Hell, Shelby was as guilty as any of them. Their last few phone calls had been cordial, stilted, as if they were two strangers who had connected through happenstance and not two sisters catching up. Odd for two people who had always been so close, even long distance. At the time, Shelby had thought the phone calls weird, but now she regretted not asking, or delving deeper into what was bothering Lana. She’d carry the guilt of inaction for the rest of her life. It sat there now, a wide gaping hole about the size of the Lincoln Tunnel, directly in the center of her chest.
Lana lay in the casket, as beautiful as she had been in life. She might have been Sleeping Beauty waiting for her prince to kiss her. Lana had loved that story when they were children.
Mourners paid their respects then moved along to speak in low tones to family members and friends who stood in little knots around the viewing room. Shelby watched the scene as if detached from the action—seeing them as actors in a play she had no desire to attend. Participating would make it all real and that wasn’t something she could handle at the moment.
As soon as she managed to get to a florist, she would order several dozen yellow roses. Fill the room if she had to. A last tribute to the one person in the family who always had her back and shared her triumphs.
She sat in the chair unmoving, hoping to go unnoticed by most in attendance. In a room full of people she knew, she felt a complete and utter stranger. A few mourners had wandered over to give condolences, but her isolationist attitude had soon sent them on their way with a few whispered words meant to comfort.
She didn’t wish to be rude or even curt. Her attitude stemmed more from not knowing what to say. A product of having no excuses other than fear that kept her from returning to Suwannee Grove since she’d left over a decade ago. The fact it took her sister’s death to bring her back said a lot more than she was willing to admit.
Yep, she might be a successful bistro owner in one of the largest cities on the planet, but when it came to facing those she left behind when she struck out on her own, she was plain old chickenshit. And that little bit of self knowledge pissed her off.
Too many hurt feelings and unsettled grievances were tied to this town. Problems best left in the past stirred like free floating ghosts every time the door opened and a mourner entered.
She caught movement from the corner of her eye and turned as her father and Emma approached the casket. Her father, Sam, looked older than his years. Emma, small and delicate, had her hair pulled back in a bun so tight it defied both physics and plastic surgery.
Shelby turned away to allow them some privacy while they stood at the casket. Damn, but if she didn’t feel like an intruder within her own family.
Someone sat down on the chair next to her and reached over to touch her hands that were folded in her lap. Female hands complete with a perfect manicure.
“You okay, Shelby?”
Shelby glanced over into the round, worried face of Lana’s best friend since elementary school, Whitney Dove. Shelby lifted one of her hands from underneath to pat Whitney’s. “Not really. How are you holding up?”
“I don’t know. I’m too numb to tell.” Whitney’s bright blue eyes were ringed in red and slightly swollen where she’d been crying.
Closer than sisters, Whitney and Lana had been through all of life’s stages together, though they couldn’t have been more different in goals and temperament. Where Lana was strict and humorless, Whitney was a free spirit. Lana only dated casually. Whitney had been married for years and had twin sons. Lana worked in the corporate structure as an accountant at a pharmaceutical company. Whitney sometimes dabbled in art.
“I know the feeling. I don’t think it’s quite sunk in yet, and I’m not sure I want it to.” Shelby gripped Lana’s hands tightly. This might not be the time or place, but she really wanted some answers. “Did you notice anything odd about Lana’s behavior recently? Anything that might have seemed small at the time but made you think twice?”
Whitney made a face. “I didn’t see anything that wasn’t like Lana, except for maybe the new guy she’s seeing.”
“New guy? What about him?”
“Well, other than knowing his name, me and her other friends know nothing about him. It’s been very hush-hush.”
“Just because you’ve never met him doesn’t mean there was anything untoward going on.”
“I know, but it’s still odd. She usually introduces us pretty quickly—me at least.” Whitney gave a shrug. “I’ll tell you this much, she was always texting him.”
Shelby thought about it for a moment. Lana having a new boyfriend wasn’t a revelation. She was more likely to have a new boyfriend than to keep one for longer than a few months. Lana just wasn’t into any one person, and that was fine. She enjoyed a lot of people for different reasons.
“Did she give you any information at all?”
“Not really. I don’t even know if he’s a local. Maybe she met him at a convention or something. I don’t know and not knowing bugs the piss out of me.” Whitney gave a worried tear-filled glance to the coffin. “What if he killed her?”
Shelby ground her back teeth together and silently asked for strength or deliverance. “He didn’t kill her.”
“How do you know? He might have fled the scene after the accident. She never went off script when she did talk about him. Which isn’t saying much. It’s just all so odd.”
“Off script?”
“I’ve been doing community theater.”
“Oh.” She didn’t like having to keep information from Lana’s oldest friend, but the family had decided to keep the true cause of death private, and no matter her problems with her father and Emma, she’d honor their request.
However, that did not preclude her from finding Lana’s boyfriend and discovering if he had any information or insight into Lana’s state of mind. No matter how unlikely, Lana might have found it easier to discuss her feelings with a near stranger than someone she’d known her entire life. Who knew? But it was worth a shot.
“Maybe she didn’t talk about him because he was married, or she worked with him,” Shelby offered. “It might have been awkward if her company has a policy against dating coworkers.”
Whitney made a face. “Lana wouldn’t help some guy cheat. It wasn’t like her. And she wasn’t a rule breaker either.”
No she wasn’t, but then people couldn’t help who they fell in love with, as Shelby’s life was daily proof.
“I’m sorry, then. I don’t know what to say. But rest assured, this guy—what’s his name?”
“Rhys,” Whitney supplied.
“Rhys was not the cause of Lana’s death.”
Only Lana was the cause, though it was hard as hell not to blame herself or others for not stepping in to prevent it.
But no matter the reasons for Lana’s secrecy over her boyfriend, at the very least he needed to know about Lana’s passing, if in fact he didn’t already.
“Can you excuse me?” Shelby stood, not waiting for permission from Whitney and hurried into the lobby where the g
uestbook was located.
Half the people there she didn’t even recognize which made searching for a person no one knew all the harder. She’d been away from Suwannee Grove so long and the town had expanded considerably. The company where Lana had worked had a large payroll. They weren’t the only large company who had pulled up stakes in some of the Mid-Atlantic States and fled to the land of sunshine and lower taxes. Suwannee Grove had definitely undergone a recent boom. Businesses of all sorts had come to town, opened their doors and hung out a shingle. City limits which were once well defined by wilderness had given way to outward expansion.
If she knew a handful of people in the room, she was doing well.
Great, she’d have to use the process of elimination. Just because Whitney didn’t think Lana had been seeing a married man, didn’t mean she wasn’t. Shelby would hate like hell to know something like that about her sister, but worse things had happened. Lana’s death for one.
Christ! What a sickening mess.
She braced both hands on the edges of the podium where the guestbook sat, and bent her head forward, closing her eyes to the sick emotions swirling inside her. Canned music of the mournful variety played softly in the background from hidden speakers.
Damn it, couldn’t they play something happy like Uptown Funk?
Friends and colleagues came and went as Shelby stood there trying to gather her thoughts. Her father left to pick up Jacintha—his mother. Frankly, Shelby had no desire to still be standing around welcoming visitors when Jacintha arrived. A stern lecture of past behaviors was bound to occur.
She leafed through the guestbook to keep her mind off any possible upcoming confrontations. Signatures filled up four pages. Not one of them started with Rhys. There were two Richards, one Raymond, a Ryan, a Robert, and an R.J. who turned out to be Riley-Jean Sloane, a friend of Lana’s from college.
Pretty shitty for a guy to be dating a woman and not even bother to attend her viewing.
“What are you doing out here?” Emma stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips and thunder on her brow. If she wasn’t careful she’d call up a hurricane with that scowl.