Center Stage: Magnolia Steele Mystery #1

by Denise Grover Swank

  I grabbed the keys from my purse and handed them to him. He made a move to open my door, but I held up a hand, warning him off. He gave me a short nod and got into the car.

  We drove in silence until we got to the parking lot behind the office. Colt turned off the car and looked out the windshield, toward the back of the catering office.

  “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but that was messed up, Magnolia.”

  “Don’t,” I said. It came out harsher than I’d intended, but I was still too vulnerable to talk about it without totally losing it.

  “Okay,” he said softly, still not looking at me. “I’ll leave Tilly’s car keys in the office and then take you home.”

  “I still don’t have keys.” Maybe Momma didn’t want me to stick around either. If she did, wouldn’t she have made me a copy? Emily had a set.

  “I have the keys to the office. Lila can get you a set next week.”

  “No. My house.” I shook my head, a wave of grief rolling through me. “I guess it’s not my house. It’s my mother’s house. Roy’s right. I don’t belong here.”

  He grabbed the steering wheel so tightly I was surprised it didn’t snap in two. “That man is fucked in the head, Magnolia. Don’t listen to a word he says.”

  I remained silent, staring out the windshield.

  “Magnolia.” I pushed out a sigh and turned to face him. “He’s wrong. So wrong. Look at all the people who are happy you’re here. Your mother. Tilly. Belinda, even if she has to hide it from Roy. And me too.”

  “You?”

  He gave me a cocky grin. “I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun sparring with a woman. You keep me on my toes, Maggie Mae. I need you to stick around.”

  I was desperately close to losing it, and I didn’t want him to be around when it happened. “You don’t have to worry about taking me home. I’ll just stay here at the office.”

  He sat back, looking uncertain, then shot me a grin. “Okay . . . maybe we can have office chair races.”

  “You’re going home.”

  He shook his head. “No can do. I’m under strict orders to keep you in sight at all times.”

  “Colt, please.” My voice broke. “I just really need to be alone right now. Just lock me inside and I’ll text you updates or something until my mother picks me up.” I looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “Please.”

  “Magnolia.”

  “Please.”

  He got out of the car, mumbling something about women and tears.

  As soon as I climbed out of my seat, he pulled me into his arms. I made a feeble effort to push him away, but then lowered my forehead to his chest and snuggled against him. The need to be close to someone was overwhelming, but as fun as Colt was and as helpful as he’d been, he was not someone I could count on in the long term. And I was too confused about what I needed to figure him out.

  So I needed him to leave.

  “I can’t leave you like this, Maggie,” he whispered in my ear. “You’re too upset.”

  I looked up at him, his face blurry through the haze of my tears. “If you really want to be my friend, then you’ll understand that I need some time alone.” I took a step back, breaking his hold.

  Worry filled his eyes. “If I leave you here, what are you going to do?”

  I gave him a weak smile. “I’m going to lock myself in the upstairs office and watch Tilly’s TV, but only after I raid the fridge. I’m pretty sure I saw a cheesecake in there.”

  A wry grin twisted his lips. “Tilly will kill you.”

  “Good,” I said without thinking. “She can do the world a favor.”

  His eyes widened, but I quickly shook my head. “Stop. It was just a very bad attempt at a joke. Now unlock the door.”

  He looked torn, but he did as I’d requested. I walked over the threshold, breathing a sigh of relief.

  “Thank you for a wonderful evening, Mr. Austin,” I drawled in a voice an octave above my own. “You may call me in the morning.”

  “Magnolia,” he pleaded.

  I grabbed Tilly’s car keys and set them on the stainless steel island in the kitchen. “Your task has now been completed. You may go.”

  He let me push him out the door, but he stopped just outside. “Call me if you need anything, got it?”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  “We’re friends, remember?” He leaned forward and his lips brushed my temple, lingering a little longer than would be appropriate for a “friend.”

  I felt a stir in my chest, but I knew from experience it was not desire. It was different, more desperate. This was loneliness. I’d lived alone for ten years, but after everything—the play, Griff, my uncertain welcome back to Franklin, the strange messages, and Max Goodwin’s death—I needed to connect with someone on a deeper level than my usual superficial attachments. Maybe that was why Griff had cheated on me. Because I wouldn’t let him in.

  No, Griff was just an asshole looking for his next lay.

  But so was Colt. I needed to remember that. If I was going to sleep with someone in this state, it had to be someone who didn’t have a habit of fucking and running.

  I gave him a soft push. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

  His grin wavered. “Not too early. I like to sleep in.”

  Liar. I had no doubt he liked to sleep late, but he’d come running if I needed him. At least I liked to think so.

  A strange look crossed his face as he stood on the stoop. Something like guilt. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this . . .” His voice trailed off, indicating he might already be having second thoughts. “You didn’t hear this from me, okay?”

  I nodded.

  “Powell’s security guard left his post about fifteen minutes before you showed up. He wasn’t gone long, but long enough for someone to sneak in and kill Max.”

  Then, just as I was about to ask why he wouldn’t go to the police with that information, he turned around and bolted to his truck.

  I shut the door and locked it. Somehow I managed to wait until I heard his truck start and pull away before I leaned the back of my head against the door and let the dam to my tears break loose.

  Chapter 17

  I cried for a good twenty minutes, sitting on my mother’s kitchen floor with my back to the door, releasing years of pain and fear.

  My limited memories of that night flooded back with a vengeance, tumbling one on top of the other until it was a jumbled mix of rain and mud, blood and terror. I hadn’t remembered anything new, but I knew without a doubt that the house was key.

  What had happened there?

  When I’d calmed down enough to stop hyperventilating, I climbed to my feet, found a glass in one of the cabinets, and filled it with water. After I drained the entire cup, I filled it again. Then I dragged out the previously discovered cheesecake. I didn’t even bother to put it on a separate plate. I just grabbed a fork and stabbed into it, not stopping until I’d devoured two full slices.

  Good call on wearing this dress today. If I kept eating cheesecake and burgers, I wouldn’t fit in it by the middle of the week.

  My mind jumped back to the restaurant, and my eyes started to tear up again at the thought of Belinda. Did Roy hurt her? I couldn’t bear the thought, but I had no idea what to do about it. Besides, I wasn’t sure she’d even speak to me again after tonight.

  This was why I didn’t let myself cry. Because once I started, I couldn’t stop. Every little thing would set me off for hours. It was a lesson I’d learned the hard way in the first years after my panicked escape from Franklin.

  What was I going to do? I took deep breaths, inhaling for a count of three and exhaling for a count of three, over and over until I felt calmer and ready to deal with the nightmare that had become my life. Or, more accurately, the nightmare that had steadily gotten worse.

  The truth was that I was tired of it all. Of the running especially, since I didn’t even know what I was running from.

  I needed to rem
ember.

  At least that’s what I told myself as I ran upstairs to the office and started digging around in my mother’s desk. She’d left her purse in her drawer, which made it easy to find her car and house keys.

  With everything else going on in my life, this seemed like the worst idea ever, but I had to know. I would never be able to find any happiness in my screwed-up life until I came to terms with whatever had happened that night. Once I accepted it, maybe I could fix everything else in my personal life.

  As I drove to my mother’s house, it occurred to me that it might be a more gainful use of my time to figure out what had happened to the security guard at Luke’s party. Why had he left? How long had he been gone? Why was Colt making it such a big secret? But it was highly unlikely that Luke Powell would let me into his house to ask, and the police sure didn’t seem disposed to help me.

  Once I got home, I found a flashlight in the junk drawer in the kitchen, then started out the back door. But before I got very far, I stopped in my tracks, feeling an overwhelming need to protect myself.

  I raced back up to my room and removed the gun from the nightstand drawer with shaking fingers. It was probably more likely to land me in trouble than to help me, but I still found myself stuffing it into a small messenger bag from the closet. I looped the strap over my head and raced down the stairs and out the back door before I could change my mind.

  I’d barely left the backyard and entered the woods before I realized this had indeed been a terrible idea. I hadn’t even changed out of my dress. But while I desperately wanted to go inside and change, I knew I might chicken out if I did that. It was time to face the truth, however ugly it might be.

  I had no idea where I was going, but my feet chose my course. I shined the flashlight beam in front of me, trying to find something familiar to tell me I was on the right path. But that was laughable. I had rarely ventured out here when I was a kid, preferring to stay indoors and view nature out a window, but Roy had spent hours and hours in the woods. Especially during summer break. He and his friend Tyler had built a fort from discarded scraps of lumber.

  After ten minutes of hiking, I was about ready to go back, relieved that I hadn’t found anything. The Nashville metropolitan area wasn’t known for its vast forest system, and the Steele family home was located on prime horse farmland. Despite all the hills that made this wooded area ill-equipped for horses, it stood to figure the woods couldn’t be that deep. Besides, Roy had never mentioned seeing an abandoned house in the woods when we were kids.

  I’d imagined it all.

  But then I reached the top of one more hill, deciding it was time to turn back, and my heart slammed into my rib cage.

  There—thirty feet in front of me—was the house. Just like I’d seen it in my dreams.

  It was obvious it was abandoned. Almost all the windows were busted out, and the landscaping was either dead or overgrown.

  Terror washed through me. I knew deep in my gut there was nothing to be afraid of tonight, but that night had been another story. Here. It had happened here. The memories tumbled back, clearer and deeper than ever before.

  * * *

  “Magnolia, you piece of shit, come back here!”

  I ran through the woods, the rain coming down in sheets, drenching me from head to toe. My dress clung to my body and my legs, the heavy fabric making it difficult to run. A tree branch snagged my hair, jerking me to a halt. I stopped and fumbled with the strands, ripping out a chunk and nearly dropping the camera in the process.

  “Magnolia. Come on. Can we just talk?” Blake paused. “I’m sorry, Maggie. Let’s just go back.”

  I took off again, running until my bare feet slipped on a patch of mud. I fell face forward, landing on my hands and knees, but I quickly scrambled to my feet. Part of me wanted to find Tanner and tell him to beat the crap out of Blake. But Blake stood between me and home, and he was driving me deeper and deeper into the woods.

  I wasn’t sure he’d let me past him.

  There were rumors that Delaney Farcus had stood up to him and regretted it. At least that was how some of the girls at school explained the bruises on her face.

  Rape.

  I hadn’t believed the talk. Blake was a hothead, but would he really rape and beat a girl? No way. Despite my best efforts to shield Maddie, she’d heard the whispers too. She’d had doubts, but I’d assured her not to worry. Until I suspected him of cheating.

  Now I wondered if it had all been true.

  “Goddammit, Magnolia!” Blake shouted, sounding madder than before. He was closer too.

  I started to run diagonally and then down a hill. My foot slid sideways, and I ended up tumbling down the embankment on my butt and landing in a stream.

  If I stayed in the water, he couldn’t follow my tracks, but the sharp stones that covered the creek bed would slow me down, not to mention shred my feet. The rain was coming down so hard and the woods were so dark that I could barely see where I was going. Could he really find my footprints?

  I crawled up the hill, pushing on. Blake’s voice had grown distant by the time I topped a hill and saw a dark building ahead. If someone was home, I could use their phone to call Tanner to come get me. Momma was out of the question. She’d lock me up for the rest of the summer.

  As I came closer, I saw it was an old house. The overgrown weeds and broken windows suggested it hadn’t been lived in for years. Maybe I could sit inside and rest, regroup, and figure out how to get home from here.

  I knocked on the broken screen door, but it didn’t surprise me when no one answered. The hinges squeaked when I pulled it open, making me wish for a flashlight. But a phone would have been more helpful. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see that I was in a mudroom—hooks and cubbies lined the right wall. A door stood ajar at the end of the small room, and I took a step toward it. The swooshing of blood from my increased pulse filled my ears.

  * * *

  Ten years later I stood at the same door, hesitantly reaching for the handle. I’d finished the walk in a daze, but I knew one thing. I needed to go inside. I needed to remember it all.

  * * *

  It’s just an abandoned house, Magnolia. What was I afraid of? Ghosts?

  I wasn’t easily scared, but the house had an eerie vibe that was urging me to get out.

  Lightning streaked outside the windows, lighting up a large empty room at the end of the hall, its tattered white curtains blowing madly in the gusting wind.

  Thunder boomed outside, and I could have sworn I heard a faint scream, just low enough for me to question my sanity. At first I credited it to an overactive imagination, but then I heard it again, fainter and longer this time, blending with the roar of the wind. My hands shook as I sorted through the list of reasonable explanations, finally deciding it was probably a feral cat scared of the storm.

  But I still needed to get the hell out of here.

  I was about to turn around and run outside when another flash of lightning lit up the sky, quickly followed by a boom and the sound of a tree cracking. My already goose-bumped skin prickled as I realized it was too dangerous to leave until the storm calmed down.

  I passed several empty bedrooms and a bathroom before I found myself in the living room, the kitchen to my right. The place was completely empty, and the open cabinet doors and drawers made it even creepier. That’s when I heard it again.

  The scream.

  There was no denying it this time. It was a woman’s scream, and it sounded like it was coming from the floor. I’d never believed ghost stories, but I was suddenly having second thoughts.

  Lightning flashed again, lighting up the trees, and a dark SUV parked about ten feet from the house.

  I dropped my camera as I clasped a hand over my mouth to hold back a scream.

  Oh, my God. There was somebody in here with me.

  * * *

  Now, I stood in the same spot. Looking out the empty picture windows at the vacant drive. My breath came in ragged pant
s, and my cheeks were numb. I reached up to pat one, surprised to find it wet with tears.

  Every part of me screamed to go back. Go home. But I had no idea where home was anymore. That night had stolen my entire life, and I refused to give it one more ounce of power over me.

  I pulled the gun out of my bag and took off the safety. There’d be no need for it tonight, but if this was the security blanket I needed to face the truth, then so be it.

  * * *

  I ran for the kitchen door, deciding I’d rather take my chances in the storm, but I tripped on an open drawer and fell against the counter, accidentally slamming a cabinet door shut.

  Oh, God. Oh, God.

  I righted myself and made it to the door. My hand was on the doorknob when an arm snaked around my waist, jerking me back into something hard.

  I screamed, but a hand slapped over my mouth and nose, blocking my airway.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  Panicked, I kicked my assailant’s legs and dug my nails into his hand, trying to pry it off. But it clamped down like a vise. Terror flooded every cell in my body.

  “If you don’t stop, I will kill you now,” a menacing voice commanded in my ear.

  But that was easier said than done. Every part of me screamed to fight, fight, fight. Fight to live. Fight to escape.

  I sucked in a foul breath tasting of copper and dirt.

  Tears streaming down my face, I tried to fight him again, but my head was growing fuzzy from the lack of oxygen.

  This was how I was going to die.

  My body sagged into his, and he began to drag me backward. But a new surge of energy shot through me, and I bit his hand and pushed his arm with all my strength.

  The moment his hold faltered, I shot forward. I moved so fast I ended up almost face-planting on the floor, but my hands broke my fall and I scrambled to get to my feet. Make it to the door, Magnolia. Make it to the door.

  But he captured me before I even got close to the doorknob, his fist smashing down on my back.