by Brenda Novak
“You’re going to let me ride this at least once before I go,” she’d murmured.
He wished he’d been appalled—or, better yet, repelled. Instead, her touch, her voice in his ear, brought him nothing but pleasure. That was why he’d set her to one side and stormed out. He’d had to. Otherwise, he would’ve dragged her into the bathroom and pulled up her skirt.
“You two are fine? Because she’s not talking much, either,” Dylan said. “And what she is saying doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.”
Shit, was she giving them away? Mack’s heart jumped into his throat. “What do you mean?”
“She’s planning to move to Utah next week, even though school doesn’t start for a couple more months. Says she needs to get a job before everyone arrives for fall semester. But there’s no guarantee it’ll be any easier to find work in June than in August. And she’s already working here. Doing a nice job, too. I’d rather not lose her before we have to.”
The prospect of her leaving town so soon filled Mack with relief. Whittling her two remaining months down to a few days or a week would help. But he also felt a measure of panic at the thought that she’d be out of reach...
He pulled over, didn’t see any point in continuing to drive aimlessly. Not when he had to go back and get that car painted. “Why’s she in such a hurry?” he asked, but only because it was expected. He knew the answer to that question. She was struggling with her wants and desires as much as he was. Living in the same house had become a problem for both of them, had gotten progressively harder as the months went by.
And now they were at the breaking point.
“She thinks it’ll be easier to adjust or something like that. If you ask me, she can adjust once she gets there. What’s the difference? Now or later?”
“If it makes the transition easier on her, we should support her decision,” Mack said, but he felt physically sick as he spoke. “She’s an adult, trying to assert her will. We should allow that.”
“You want her to leave early?” Dylan asked.
Mack let his head drop against the back of the seat. “If that’s what she wants.”
Dylan paused for a few seconds. Then he said, “Okay, I’ll get on the internet over lunch today and see if her apartment complex has an opening so she won’t have to move twice.”
“I bet she’ll appreciate that.”
“She’ll be pissed that I took over, like she was when I set up her housing to begin with. But it makes me feel better about letting her go. Maybe you can help arrange her airfare tonight. Aaron, Grady, Rod and I will pay for the first month, last month and security deposit on the apartment if you’ll handle her flight.”
Mack tapped his fingers on the wheel. “Sure. No problem.”
“She claims she’s going to pay for it all herself, that she’s saved up. But she barely has enough to cover the hard costs, and that won’t leave her with any money for food or laundry detergent or anything else. I don’t want her up there broke. Who can say how long it’ll be before she finds work? Even then it’ll take weeks to get a paycheck.”
“Thanks,” Mack said. Then he realized appreciation was an odd response, since Dylan wasn’t doing anything for him. “I mean, I’ll feel better knowing she’s taken care of, too.”
“She doesn’t like accepting any help. She’s so damn independent.”
Natasha was independent. But she also wanted Mack to see her as an equal. He understood that.
“She can pay us back when she becomes a rocket scientist or a doctor or a politician, what with all the schooling she’s going to have, right?” Dylan joked.
Mack had never been prouder of anything than the report cards Natasha had brought home. Something about the fact that she was going to get out of Whiskey Creek and have so many opportunities, despite her past, made his throat tighten and his eyes burn. He needed to let her explore those possibilities, needed to let her go.
“Right. Sounds good to me,” he said. Then he turned his truck around.
One more week. He could keep up the fight for one more week, couldn’t he?
* * *
Rod was glad he wasn’t working in the shop today. He knew his brothers would give him hell about having their neighbor over without ever letting on. And he didn’t want to hear it. Especially now that she’d put a stop to whatever had started between them. Rod told himself he didn’t care. He had trouble falling in love, not out of it. And he’d known India for only a few days.
He’d spent the whole drive to Bakersfield trying to convince himself that she’d broken it off because she was looking for someone with deeper pockets, more promise or more respect. And yet he still wanted to see her. That told him he might be in deeper than he thought.
He couldn’t be too mad at her, though. Not after what she’d been through. She’d had an ex-boyfriend come back and kill her husband, right in front of her, and it’d happened less than a year ago. Of course she’d have scars. He could understand why she might feel jittery about being with a man after something like that, but he couldn’t allow her to face the coming days and weeks alone. If Sebastian was going to seek revenge, he’d probably do it soon, while he was still angry and before he settled into whatever kind of life he was going to live.
When Rod stopped to get a bite to eat, he quit arguing with himself and texted her.
Tell me you weren’t serious this morning.
Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, came her response.
Stay over tonight, at least. I won’t even be there until late. And when I get home, I’ll sleep on the couch.
He’d tried to sleep on the couch last night; she was the one who’d stopped him. He would’ve pointed that out, except she hadn’t had to do much to convince him. And he didn’t want her to regret it any more than she already did.
He was filling up with gas by the time she wrote back.
I’ll be fine.
He frowned at his phone. How could he persuade her?
Your safety has to come before any loyalty you feel to Charlie. Think about what he’d want.
We could be worried for nothing. Maybe the cops are watching Sebastian.
You don’t know?
No. They won’t tell me that. They can’t. What if I’m the guilty one?
I’m guessing they’re not watching him. Anyway, are you willing to stake your life on that?
I bought a security system today. That won’t help if he follows me from the house, of course. But I might be able to sleep at night. That’s worth something.
Unless Sebastian was a particularly sophisticated criminal, she’d know if someone was trying to break in before he was standing at the foot of her bed.
Good. When will it be installed?
They’re coming on Saturday.
And until then?
I can get by.
Stay at my place, India.
If I don’t put down my phone and finish shaping this bowl, it’ll be ruined.
Does that mean you’ll be in my bed tonight, where I know you’ll be safe?
I’m thinking about it.
I’ll stay at your place, if you prefer.
No! If it isn’t safe for me, why would it be safe for you?
Then quit giving me so much trouble and be at my place, waiting for me.
He didn’t think she was going to text back. He assumed she’d returned to her work. But when he stopped at the light before entering the freeway, he saw his phone screen light up in the seat beside him and pulled over.
Okay. But let me sleep on the couch. I’d feel bad taking your bed.
Trust me, you’ll want the privacy. Just go to sleep where you did last night. I don’t know when I’ll get back, anyway.
Are you sure?
Positive. Then I won’t hav
e to worry about you.
I’m sorry.
For what?
For everything.
It’s going to be fine, he keyed in—and hoped that was true.
15
After texting with Rod, India managed to build a new vase. She also fired it, as well as the wind chimes she’d created over the past week. The kiln required so much electricity she had to wait until she had enough pieces to fill it. Ceramics could be a very imperfect process. Although various glazes did unexpected things in the kiln, these had come out great. She felt good about what she’d accomplished. She was improving as an artist, could see it in her work.
After she was done, she called her in-laws to check on Cassia. Claudia, who answered, treated her coolly. And at the end of their conversation, when India finally asked to speak to Cassia, she received the same old runaround; Claudia said Cassia was outside in the swimming pool with Papa and tomorrow would be better.
India was so frustrated it was harder than ever to bite her tongue. She quickly got off the phone, but she was afraid that if she stayed home, she’d call them back and resume the argument that’d been brewing since the trial. Sitting around brooding on all the complaints she had against them wasn’t going to improve her mood. So she showered, put on a summer dress and left to enjoy the idyllic town she’d chosen to live in.
Fortunately, the weather had improved. A cool wind stirred the trees as the sun slid down behind the distinctive buildings on Sutter Street. Just walking through the center of town and seeing the nineteenth-century architecture of the old Victorian homes and the many quaint shops helped her relax. She liked imagining which building she might rent for her shop—or where she might build, since there weren’t too many options.
She spent a whole hour becoming more familiar with Whiskey Creek, but when she decided to eat, there didn’t seem to be a lot of choices. A burger joint off the main drag, a small sandwich shop not far from the park and a diner called Just Like Mom’s. The diner was almost insufferably tacky, but it was busy, which suggested the food was good. India got the impression that the purple paint and “visiting grandma’s house” feel were part of its charm—or the owner did such a brisk business he or she didn’t need to update.
When India entered and approached the hostess station, she was feeling significantly better than she had at home and was glad she’d opted for a change of scenery.
“Just one?” The hostess looked behind her as if she expected to see someone else come in.
“Just one,” India echoed. After being part of a couple, and then a family of three for so long, she found it difficult to be alone all the time. But the Sommerses didn’t seem to think that deserved any consideration.
“We’re clearing off a table,” the hostess told her. “Give us a minute.”
India surreptitiously watched her fellow citizens as she waited. Would she fit in here in Whiskey Creek? Would she even have the chance? A security system could provide some warning if Sebastian tried to break in, but it wouldn’t stop him. She’d have to do that.
“Right this way.” With a pleasant smile, the hostess led her across the restaurant to a small table.
India was so intent on getting seated that she almost didn’t recognize the man in a nearby booth, eating with a woman. If not for the brace on his nose, India wouldn’t particularly have noticed him. But someone with a broken nose wasn’t a common sight. That brace caught her eye as she sat down. Then she realized who he was—the guy who’d been lying unconscious on the side of the road Friday night!
So he was out of the hospital...
“We have to do something.” The woman who was with him leaned close, obviously intent on convincing him. “We can’t let him get away with what he did.”
Him? India would’ve focused on her menu and let them eat in peace. But that snippet of conversation grabbed her attention.
“We’re not letting him get away with it. I’m pressing charges, aren’t I?”
They were talking about Rod; they had to be.
“He should serve time, Liam.”
“He won’t serve time, Sharon. There are rapists and murderers who go to trial and get off with a slap on the wrist. Why would they put Rod Amos behind bars?”
“Because he’s dangerous!”
There was a brief pause during which India held her breath. Rod wasn’t dangerous. How unfair that they were talking about him as if he was a criminal. He’d reacted as most people would react, if they were capable of it, given the situation.
“So...what are you saying?” Liam asked.
Sharon lowered her voice so much that India had to slide over to hear. “I’m saying he must’ve had a weapon. Look what he did to your face. Broke your nose and your jaw.”
A weapon? Shock and outrage made India clench her teeth.
“At least I didn’t need to have my jaw wired shut.” Liam spoke with his mouth full, which he certainly wouldn’t have been able to do if the doctor had wired his jaw.
“Does that mean we should thank him?” Sharon said. “Think of the hospital bill, if you’re not pissed off enough about your injuries. You have a $3,500 deductible! How will you ever pay it?”
India couldn’t hear what Liam muttered next. Then Sharon started in again. “He and his brothers own a business here in Whiskey Creek. He’s got money. I’ve looked into it.”
Although it wasn’t easy, India stopped herself from shooting to her feet and saying something to them.
“I’m going to try to make him pay,” Liam responded. “But it isn’t up to me—”
“Yes, it is!” she broke in. “It’ll depend on what you tell Chief Bennett when you give him your statement tomorrow morning. If Rod Amos had a weapon, that would change things. He must’ve used something besides his fists to do that much damage. You’re just not remembering it right. No wonder after you got beaten up so badly. You’ve got to take some time and think about it, get your story straight before you go in there.”
The tone of Liam’s voice changed, grew speculative. “What kind of weapon do you think it was?”
India could tell Liam knew there’d been no weapon. He was asking what he should say in order to get Rod in the greatest trouble. But Sharon noticed India at that moment and must’ve realized she was eavesdropping, because she whispered to her companion, then asked what he thought of his dinner instead of answering the question.
India sat through her own meal, trying to pretend she hadn’t been listening and didn’t have any idea what they were talking about. She hoped they’d relax and return to the subject, so she could learn more about their plans. But they didn’t. They visited other topics, paid their bill soon after and walked out, leaving her with a sense of foreboding.
She would’ve been upset if she’d overheard two people planning to lie about anyone. She especially didn’t want to see Rod hurt.
When she was finished, she drove over to the police station. She was nervous about drawing attention to herself. She preferred to lie low, so she could adjust to her new life and move on. But she couldn’t let Liam and Sharon purposely misrepresent what’d happened Friday night.
At first she was glad she’d gathered up the nerve to go see Chief Bennett. He recognized her and treated her kindly—until he wrote down her name. Although she’d mentioned it the night of the accident, this time he connected it to all the press coverage about her husband’s death. Once he confirmed that she was, indeed, the woman who’d been married to the murdered doctor, his manner changed. From that point on, he acted as if he couldn’t take her quite as seriously now that he knew she’d been involved in two police situations in such a short time.
“Thanks for stopping by,” he said after he’d made a few notes. “I’ll keep your statement on file in case this goes anywhere and be in touch if I need to speak to you again.”
“Okay.” She stood and smoothed her dress. “I appreciate you hearing me out. I just... I felt you should know. Rod didn’t have a weapon.”
“You sure about that?” he asked before she could step out of his office.
Hearing the challenge in his voice, she threw back her shoulders. “I am.”
“You were there when the two men were fighting? You saw what happened?”
“No, I...I came on the scene after, like I told you. But he wasn’t holding anything. And I have no reason to lie.”
“Why couldn’t he have put down any weapon he might’ve used before you arrived, Ms. Sommers?”
She blinked at him. “Because he never had one. I’m telling you, the conversation I overheard at Just Like Mom’s was upsetting. Sharon, the woman who was speaking to Liam, was clearly suggesting that he lie.”
He checked his notes. “When she said he couldn’t be remembering the fight correctly. That the damage to his face suggested Rod must’ve used a weapon.”
“Yes!”
“To be honest, I’m not sure those sound like entirely unreasonable statements, Ms. Sommers. Rod has a history in this town, after all.”
“For using weapons?”
“Not necessarily. But for finding trouble.”
“It wasn’t what Sharon said as much as the way she said it,” India told him.
“I see. Well, I’ve got it all right here.” He tapped the file on his desk. “Thanks for coming in.”
She’d been dismissed. She had no choice but to nod and take her leave.
As she walked to her car, she was afraid she hadn’t helped Rod at all. And she knew she’d have even less credibility if it ever came out that she’d been in his bed.
* * *
Natasha would barely speak to him while he arranged her airfare. Mack asked her several questions. How she’d get from the airport to the apartment complex. Whether she’d checked the surrounding area to see if there was a store nearby. Whether or not she really wanted to leave so early. But she just sat on his bed while he used the laptop he typically lent her and scowled at him whenever he turned around.