by Brenda Novak
“Couldn’t you have waited until I was gone? But...okay.” She began straightening her room, which was almost spotless. She’d always been a neat freak, usually cleaned his room, too.
“I feel terrible about it,” he admitted.
She hesitated. Then, to his relief, she seemed to soften. “Don’t feel bad. I was in the wrong to begin with.”
Wait. This wasn’t what he wanted to hear, either. How was she in the wrong? By accurately judging his interest and responding to it? Now she seemed to have convinced herself that she’d been crazy to ever believe he could want her. She was so used to disappointment that she was already trying to accept his rejection—despite the mixed signals she’d been receiving and how upset she’d been just this morning. “Seriously?”
“Of course. Feel free to call whoever it was you fucked last night and have her over again. This is your house, and I’m a guest in it. I’ll stay out of your way.”
He had no interest in Bella, wished he’d never touched her. “You’re not a guest in this house. That’s the problem. Why, did Grady say something to you?” That guest stuff sounded as though someone had taken her to task for misbehaving...
“No, I just figured out what you’ve been trying to tell me. Duh, right?”
Uncrossing his feet, he leaned forward. “And what is that?”
“I kept thinking that once I grew up, once I was ‘old enough,’ we could be together. But I was wrong. I’m not too young for you. I’m too old.”
Mack felt his eyebrows come together. “Can you explain that?”
“To fit into your life,” she said. “Now that I’m a woman, I’m sort of in this ‘no man’s land.’ You want to fuck me, but you feel like you can’t, so you don’t know what to do with me.”
That was true. As usual, she understood perfectly—too well. He wanted her beneath him, welcoming him inside her. But he couldn’t touch her in that way, refused to be the kind of lecher that would make him.
“So I’m backing off, like you asked,” she said. “And I hope it’s soon enough that you’re not sorry you met me. You’ve done so much for me.” Her throat worked as if she was fighting tears. “You’ve been there for me so many times when no one else was. Thank you.”
The chair creaked as he leaned forward again. It was hard not to get up and go to her. “Natasha, I could never regret knowing you.”
She offered him a sad smile. “Good. Then at least we’ll part friends.”
Finished with the few things she could put right in her room, she climbed into bed and slid beneath the covers.
She’d put an end to the conversation, but there was so much more Mack wished he could say. He wished he could tell her how beautiful she was, regardless of what those mean girls had posted on Facebook. How hard it was for him to let her go and how much he’d miss her. She’d been such a big part of his life for the past two years—the part he always looked forward to. It’d gotten to the point that he couldn’t wait to see her when he got up or got home from work, if she was at school and not at the shop with him.
But admitting any of that would only take them back to what they couldn’t have, and it wasn’t fair to give her false hope. He felt as though the sexual tension that had developed recently was his fault, because he hadn’t been able to mask his interest well enough.
“Good night,” he murmured, but he didn’t leave. He waited until she’d fallen asleep. Then, with a sigh, he walked out and closed the door behind him.
* * *
India sat across from Frank and June Siddell at a café several blocks from where they lived. They’d called first thing in the morning to let her know they had some information, so she’d arranged to meet them for lunch.
Rod wasn’t included. He’d asked to come, but as much as India liked and trusted the Siddells, she didn’t see why anyone had to know about Rod. If the Siddells weren’t aware of who he was or the fact that he was involved, they couldn’t give him away, even accidentally.
Rod said she was being too careful by keeping them in the dark, but he could tolerate a higher level of risk than she could. She’d told him to go eat on his own and drove to the café without him.
“It’s so nice of you to try to help me,” she told Sebastian’s neighbors. “The worst part of what I’ve been through is the helplessness. Waiting for the police to find Sebastian and arrest him. Feeling as if everyone’s blaming me, even though I’m telling the truth. Then watching the justice system fail—”
“I can’t believe he got off,” Frank interjected, sounding thoroughly disgusted.
“I wouldn’t be taking matters into my own hands if there was any other way,” she said.
June reached across the table to clasp her hand. “We know that. What you’re doing is scary, but we’d fight back, too, if we were in your shoes, so we’re happy to do our part.”
“Thank you.”
The waitress arrived with the coffee they’d requested when they sat down, so they ordered their meals. Then June opened her purse, put on her reading glasses and smoothed out a piece of paper. “I wrote down a few things for you, in case they come in handy.”
“Like what?” India asked.
“A list of all the neighbors, their addresses and phone numbers.”
“I approached a couple of people on our street last night,” Frank chimed in. “To see if I could find someone who knows Sebastian better than I do.”
“And? Did you find anyone?”
“Guy who lives on the right told me he’s partied with Sebastian a number of times, said Sebastian’s always hitting him up for drugs.”
“Why would he do that? Doesn’t Sebastian’s brother, Eddie, sell meth?”
“Sell is the key word there. Eddie’s strict about getting paid, and Sebastian usually doesn’t have money. This guy, Mike, said Sebastian’s always trying to mooch a freebie.”
“Did he mention where Sebastian likes to hang out?”
“Gave me a coupla places. After Hours, a bar that’s not far away, and Solids and Stripes.”
“A pool hall?”
He nodded.
“Does he take his wife out with him?”
“Hardly ever. He leaves her home with the kids,” Frank said. “I don’t get the impression he cares about her. Just uses her. Mike said Sebastian beats the shit out of her if he gets mad enough.”
Disturbed by this news, India set her coffee down without taking a sip. “And the kids?”
“Sheila wouldn’t be nominated for Mother of the Year,” June said. “I took some muffins over this morning. Thought it would be a nice gesture—and a way to see if her husband was around. But Sheila didn’t invite me in. And I couldn’t tell from the doorway if Sebastian was home. The kids were, though. They were running around half-dressed and filthy, like usual.”
“Did you feel Sheila might be open to your friendship?” India asked. “That you might be able to gain her trust?”
“She doesn’t seem particularly interested in me. Or anyone else, for that matter. I’d bet my bottom dollar she’s on drugs, too. All the signs are there.”
India finally took a sip of her coffee. Sebastian’s life was a mess, and it sounded as if his wife’s wasn’t any better. “If you could get her to admit that Sebastian wasn’t at home the night he killed my husband, that would help. She’s the one who provided his alibi.”
“I tried talking about the trial,” June said. “Told her I’m glad her husband’s out of jail. That’s when she clammed up.”
“Sure wish we’d been paying more attention that night,” Frank said. “But maybe we can make up for it. There’s an old shed out back. Sometime when they’re gone, I’m going to take a peek inside, see if I can’t find the gun he used to shoot your husband.”
“The police searched the house,” she said. “I’m sure they would’v
e included the shed.”
“That was before. Might be worth a second look.”
“I’m worried you’ll get yourself into a dangerous situation. Maybe if you see him drive off one evening, you could call me and I’ll have a look.”
“Forget that,” Frank said. “What if he came back unexpectedly? I’ll handle it. We owe it to ourselves, as well as his wife, those kids and everyone else in the neighborhood to get rid of this dude. We have to stop him from hurting people.”
When he stated it that way, as if seeing Sebastian put behind bars wasn’t just her responsibility, India felt better about involving him. “Okay. I appreciate the support.”
“I’ll check the bar and the pool hall tonight, see if he’s at either place.”
If Frank was willing to go that far, India couldn’t leave him feeling he was her only hope. So, without using Rod’s name, she explained that she had another friend who also planned to try to connect with Sebastian.
“A fellow in Sebastian’s age bracket would have a better chance of getting close to him than I would,” Frank admitted. “It’s brilliant.”
“We’ll see. Having two people will allow us to cover more ground. If you could go by the bar tonight and call me if you see Sebastian, that’d be enough. I’ll have my friend visit the pool hall.”
“Absolutely,” he said with satisfaction and sat back as the waitress brought their food.
* * *
“Let’s call Cassia.”
India looked up in surprise. She and Rod were in the motel room, sitting on the bed. They’d been on her computer, pulling up every piece of information they could find on Sebastian. Rod felt he’d have a better shot at befriending him if he had some concept of what Sebastian was like, what he might find appealing and how to approach him. But after several hours of research—which included reading the transcripts of the trial and India telling him everything she remembered about her old boyfriend—the suggestion that she call Cassia came out of nowhere.
“My daughter?” she said.
“Do you know another Cassia?”
“No, it’s just...”
“What?”
It was strange hearing her name on his lips. They hadn’t talked much about her child. India felt she had to keep that part of her life separate. “You know how possessive my in-laws are with her.”
“I do. But I also know that you’re missing her, and you have every right to talk to her. Maybe it’ll be easier to press the issue if we go over there to visit instead of call.”
“There’s no time for a visit.”
“Why not? They live in San Francisco. We can be there in twenty minutes, stay for half an hour and be back in plenty of time for me to go to Solids and Stripes. That place won’t even get going until well after Cassia’s in bed.”
“I realize that, but...I can’t show up with a man, Rod. My in-laws will never believe I loved Charlie if I’m with someone else so soon.”
He stretched out on the bed.
“What?” she said.
“Eleven months isn’t that soon.”
“It’s been a hard eleven months, which makes it feel like an eternity. I’m with you on that. But I can assure you that eleven months won’t be nearly long enough for them.”
“Shouldn’t they be more concerned with whether you’re recovering? Whether you’re happy?”
“To be honest, I don’t think they care about me. I’m beginning to wonder if they ever did.”
“Then who says they get to decide if and when you see your child?”
She pushed the laptop away. “I’m trying to respect their wishes.”
“Because you care so much about their opinion.”
She had cared at one time. She wasn’t so sure how she felt these days. Having them doubt her and judge her had hurt too badly. But they were Cassia’s grandparents. And she knew how sad Charlie would be if he could see what was happening. He’d always wanted his folks to embrace her, since she didn’t have parents of her own anymore. “There’s that—and then there’s the fear that they’ll sue me for custody of Cassia.”
Rod scowled at her. “No judge in his right mind would take Cassia away from you.”
“Whether the police have really crossed me off their suspect list remains to be seen. And even if they have, it doesn’t mean the Sommerses believe I’m innocent, Rod. They could make me look like a woman who killed her child’s father. Once they convince the judge that I might’ve gotten away with murder, they’ll show him what a stable and loving home they can provide, and...and who knows what he’ll do? They raised Charlie, after all, and look how well he turned out.”
“That has no bearing—”
“It could,” she broke in. “Once I go to court, there’ll be no guarantees. Judges have so much power. You can’t begin to guess what will sway the man or woman who presides over the hearing. Maybe we’ll get a male judge who hates his ex-wife, a woman who happens to look or act like me. Or a judge who was rescued from neglect or poverty by a set of loving grandparents. Or a judge who followed the trial and felt I was to blame. Trust me, once Claudia and Steve decide to go for this, they’ll stop at nothing. They’ll dig up every stupid decision I’ve ever made and use it to characterize me as an unfit mother. And even if they can’t get any traction at first, they’ve got the money and the time to hang in there for the long haul. I can’t let my life go in that direction. Cassia’s all I’ve got left.”
“Then visit her without me,” Rod said. “That shouldn’t piss them off too much. Tell them you really missed her, so you thought you’d drive over.”
“I don’t even know if they’ll be home.”
“So call first.”
“I can’t. Then they’ll be gone for sure.”
He sat up. “Are you hearing yourself right now?”
“It’s a bad situation.” Although she longed to see Cassia, she didn’t know if she could tolerate being treated as an unwelcome guest by Charlie’s parents. She wasn’t ready to return to San Francisco, either. The city was so much a part of her life with her late husband...
“It doesn’t have to be tonight,” Rod said. “Just think about it. You can see her if you want to. I’ll make sure of it.”
She smiled as she nodded. His words empowered her, but she couldn’t let him make sure of anything where her daughter and her in-laws were concerned. “I’ll have enough on my mind tonight worrying about you. Maybe tomorrow. Or the next day.”
He looked as if something in her response troubled him, made him realize that they wouldn’t always be cloistered away like this, that the rest of the world would eventually intrude. “What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said.
She didn’t push. “One day at a time, huh?”
“Yeah.” He got off the bed. “I guess I should go.”
She followed him to the door. “I’m not sure we should do this.”
“Quit worrying.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll text you. Let you know if I make contact.”
She caught his arm. “No. Don’t try to text me. If Sebastian happens to see my name or number, he’ll link the two of us. Delete all my contact information before you spend any time with him.”
“My phone is password protected. Besides, I’m not going to give him any reason to get hold of it,” he said and left.
India walked over to the veranda and watched him pull out of the lot.
* * *
Solids and Stripes was a decent pool hall—not nearly as seedy as Rod had expected. He arrived at ten, bought a beer and hung out around a big-screen TV that was showing NASCAR reruns. Then he played some darts and moved over to the pool tables, where he hoped to scrounge up a game to help whittle away the hours. None of the men he’d seen so far resembled the pictures India had shown him of Se
bastian; he wasn’t there.
Rod got in on two games, both of which he lost because he wasn’t concentrating. More interested in watching the door to see who came and went, he regularly checked the flow of people. Then he’d check his phone to see if Frank was having any better luck at the bar.
At midnight, when he was well into his third game, he finally heard from India regarding Frank.
Frank says he’s been at After Hours since nine. Doesn’t think Sebastian’s going to show. He’ll be heading home soon.
In Rod’s opinion, it was too early to give up. But Frank was in his sixties. Rod could see why he might call it a night.
“Do you mind?”
Rod moved aside so his opponent, a guy named Dave, could take the shot he wanted and perched on a bar stool to text India back.
No sign of him here, either. I’ll stay until one thirty, then swing by the bar on my way back to the motel. Make a last pass before closing time.
Okay. I have to admit I’m kind of relieved.
He wasn’t relieved. They needed Sebastian to show up so Rod could bump into him. They couldn’t let this thing drag on forever.
Have Frank call his wife to see if Sebastian’s car is back at home.
“Your turn.”
Rod pressed Send and looked up to find his partner waiting for him. “Sorry. Wife doesn’t like me going places without her,” he mumbled.
“That’s why I don’t have a wife,” the guy responded with a laugh. “So I can go where I damn well please.”
Rod sank two solids but missed his next shot. So while he waited for another turn, he went back to the stool and checked his phone.
Frank says both cars are still gone.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“So you’re paying attention, after all?” Dave asked.
Rod focused on the game. The guy had nearly cleared the table. Only the eight ball remained. “Yeah,” he said, but he didn’t care if he lost. He was angry that he’d mishandled the night. He and Frank shouldn’t have gone to places Sebastian could appear. The bar and the pool hall were supposed to be Sebastian’s favorite hangouts, but he could have others. They could waste days, weeks like this.