“It changes every day. Don’t I have the right to change my mind?” Beth’s glare shifted to Kara. “Is this country under martial law? What’s the big deal if a girl isn’t skinny? Is being skinny one of the Ten Commandments?” Beth burst out. “Food will never judge me. Food loves me, and I love food.” She rose quickly and snatched the brownies from the coffee table.
“You don’t know what it’s like to have thunder thighs,” Beth continued, returning to the couch and glaring at Kara’s long, thin legs. “Do you know how difficult it is to get jeans that don’t make your legs look like fat sausages about to burst from their casings?”
“Or jeans that fit your legs but get stuck halfway up your butt,” I added helpfully.
“It’s a great thing,” Kara interrupted, glaring at us, “that your fat asses fill up the spaces in your jeans. It’s a great thing a dress doesn’t droop down your chest because you have no tits to hold it up. It’s a great thing—”
Beth cut off Kara’s speech, continuing enthusiastically as if Kara hadn’t spoken. “Or jeans that fit your fat thighs and huge butt perfectly, but hang really loose on the waist.”
“Absolutely,” I agreed.
“Screw it!” Kara burst out. “You know what? We’re all beautiful, badass bitches. Huge tits or no tits, huge ass or flat ass, we rule. We should be proud and loud about our bodies. They’re works of art.”
“Amen,” I agreed.
“Damn right. And if a dumb geek can’t see that, that’s his loss,” Beth added.
“Amen again,” I said.
“No matter how sweet or thoughtful he is. And how klutzy and cute and adorable he is whenever he spills his coffee. Or buttons his shirt wrong or… I’m totally not describing Theo. There are so many guys out there who are like that.”
“Sure, Betty,” Kara winked.
“Don’t call me Betty. Theo calls me Betty Boop.” She groaned, rolling her eyes. “Please, make me stop. Make my mouth stop.”
“Just keep stuffing it with food,” I suggested.
Kara reached for the pitcher of rum and Coke, but when she found it empty, she slumped back in her seat, deflated. “I’m too lazy to make more.” She turned to me, scrunching her face pitifully.
I sighed. “I’ll make more. Be right back.”
Kara smiled at me goofily. “I love you.”
“Ver, can you bring some cookies, please? Please? Please? And more chips too,” Beth drawled, her eyes half-closed. She was clearly drunk.
“Hey, sugar,” Kara teased. “Put on a movie.”
“Why do I have to get up? I’m comfortable. You’re the one who owns the apartment. I’m a visitor. You should serve me and—”
Shaking my head, I left them to argue. Five minutes later, I could hear the sounds of a movie playing from the living room. Kara drunkenly cheered, “Woop! Woop! Magic Mike, baby. Give Mama some love!”
Laughing, I finished making the rum and Coke. Pitcher in one hand, three bags of chips in the other, and a bag of cookies in the crook of my arm, I proceeded to the living room.
“I’m not getting up again after this…” I trailed off when my phone vibrated on the coffee table. Setting everything on the coffee table, I picked up my phone. It was a text from Caleb.
“Problem?” Kara asked, lifting her head from the couch to look at me.
I frowned. “Caleb says he forgot that he’d set up an appointment with the real estate agent tonight.” I checked the time. “And by tonight, I mean right now.”
“I thought he said the house hunting wasn’t till Friday. And what time is it?” Kara asked.
“That’s what he told me this morning,” I said. “And it’s half past six now. I’m going to call him.”
Kara rolled her eyes and turned back to the movie. I glanced at Beth as I dialed Caleb’s number. She was already snoring.
“He’s not answering. I think he’s there already. Probably talking to the agent.”
“Well, go. I bet you it’s a surprise something. Maybe this house has huge-ass counter space.” Kara cackled. “Is he picking you up?”
“He said he’s sending a taxi to pick me up—right now,” I answered as I texted him Kara’s street address to send to the driver.
Kara looked over her shoulder at me, winking. “I think Lockhart has something up his sleeve again.”
The taxi dropped me off at the address Caleb had texted. I looked up at the house, admiring it. It was Tudor style with big windows and a wraparound balcony on the second floor. Welcoming warm lights flooded the house inside.
I stood outside for a few moments, smiling. I could see us living here. Raising a family. Caleb talked about getting a dog. Maybe we’d have a couple of them running in the yard.
I could picture Caleb and me having breakfast on the balcony together, or sitting on the front porch at night talking about our day. An image of a little boy with copper-brown hair and green eyes flitted through my mind, and I felt something squeeze my heart.
“Daydreaming,” I muttered to myself, my lips splitting into a goofy smile. I realized I must have drank more of Kar’s rum and Coke than I thought.
The porch light flicked on as I stepped up to the front door and rang the doorbell. There was no answer. I looked at the house number again. It was the right address. Maybe they were somewhere in the house where they couldn’t hear the doorbell.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Caleb’s number. No answer again. I placed my hand on the doorknob and turned. It opened easily.
If Caleb had accidentally given me the wrong address and I was arrested for trespassing, I’d kick his butt to Timbuktu.
For a moment, I hesitated in the doorway. And then I heard something inside the house. Letting out a sigh, I stepped inside.
“Hello?” I called out, my voice echoing.
The house was beautiful inside. There was no furniture, providing an uninterrupted view of the large, open space where I could appreciate the wide windows and modern light fixtures.
“Caleb?” I called out again. Again, there was no answer. Something didn’t feel right. Uneasiness suddenly flooded me, some instinct telling me to leave. Before I could even turn around, I felt a presence behind me.
The sound of a gun being cocked froze my blood.
“Turn around,” the familiar voice said.
I held my breath, slowly turning around. Beatrice-Rose stood a few feet from me, a smug grin on her bloodred lips.
“Hello, Veronica.” She pointed the gun at my head, then lowered it to my heart. “Did you miss me?”
Chapter Thirty-four
Caleb
Driving around the area close to where your fiancée was spending her day with her friends wasn’t a sign of an obsessed stalker.
Definitely not.
I had already booked a showing with my agent on Friday, but it wouldn’t hurt to look at houses where it felt more familiar to Red.
The neighborhood was pretty good, quiet. Well-kept lawns, couples walking their dogs, families having barbecues in their front yard. When a small, pretty girl riding a pink Barbie bike waved at me, I shot her a grin and waved back.
Someday Red and I would have a daughter.
The grin on my face widened when I spotted a For Sale sign outside a great stone house. I parked in front of it, climbed out of my car, and just stared. It had those fancy slopes and curves on the roof, two thick chimneys jutting up, and casings on the windows to deter thieves. Good condition, wraparound balcony on the second floor, amazing shade from the trees—
“Cal?”
My grin disappeared as I turned and spotted Beatrice-Rose standing by her car, which she had parked behind mine. She was wearing a tight red dress and red lipstick that made her look older. Or maybe it was the dark circles under her eyes.
“I was in the neighborhood when I thought I saw you
r car. I’m doing a photo shoot today with a client.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, looking unsure.
I should have stayed home today.
She smiled, gesturing at the house. “Your mom told me you’re looking to buy a house. Is this the one you want?”
When I didn’t answer, she took a step forward, but the look I shot her made her pause.
“Cal, can’t we be friends again?”
I opened my car door. “I don’t think so.”
“Wait!”
“What do you want, Beatrice-Rose?” I said coldly.
“Have coffee with me, Cal. I have some things to say. To apologize for. Please.” Her eyes were soft and pleading as they looked at me. “For old times’ sake?”
I hesitated, then realized there were things I had to say to her too. And what better time than now? I told her to meet me at the coffee shop down the street.
When I stepped inside, Beatrice-Rose was already seated in one of the booths, watching me as I took the seat across from her.
“I already ordered your favorite. Orange juice and burger and fries,” she started, twisting her hands on the table.
“Thanks, but you shouldn’t have. This shouldn’t take long.”
Her face crumpled, her hand closing around the pendant on her neck. Guilt wormed its way into me, but the memory of Red upset last night crushed it.
“Let me get to the point, Beatrice-Rose. I want you to stop.”
She blinked slowly. “Stop?”
“Don’t insult both of us by pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about. I know you. Or I thought I did.”
“Of course you know me, Cal! We grew up together. You know everything about me, like I know everything about you. I know Veronica told you so many lies about me. But, Cal, I would never do anything to hurt you. Don’t believe—”
“Stop.”
“—anything she says.”
“Stop,” I repeated, hearing the coldness in my voice. “If I hear you say another lie about her, I’ll leave now.”
“But, Cal—”
I narrowed my eyes at her, and she stopped midsentence. “I want you to leave Veronica alone. I want you to leave me alone. Do you think I don’t know about the drugs you planted in her purse last night? Did you plant the drugs in my car too?”
“No! Caleb! Please believe me. I didn’t! I didn’t!”
“I don’t believe anything you say anymore. I’m telling you now, if you don’t stop harassing Veronica and me, I’m going to file a restraining order against you. You’ve done enough.”
Tears started to pour down her face.
“But I need you,” she said quietly, brokenly.
I wasn’t sure if her tears were real or fake, but the sight of her sitting across from me, her thin shoulders curved forward and her hands covering her face as she cried, made me pity her.
“I need you, Cal.”
“I need her,” I said simply.
Her hands fell limply to her lap as she looked up at me.
“I need her,” I repeated more firmly.
“You don’t even know how much I love you. You have no idea, do you?” she asked.
“If you really love me, you’ll want me to be happy. And nothing makes me happier than being with Red. Nothing.”
She drew in a sharp breath.
“I know you’re sick. Ben told me about Paris.”
Before I could say anything more, my phone rang. I looked at the screen and cursed. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back,” I told her, walking outside to take the call from Clooney, the private investigator I hired. “Hello?”
“Caleb, we got him.”
“They’ve arrested Justin?”
“You bet. Bastard’s been hiding at his uncle’s place in Devil’s Lake,” he replied.
“The small town south of here?”
“Yep. Apparently, the uncle’s old as dirt and never leaves his house. He had no idea what his little nephew had been up to. That’s why he hasn’t reported Justin.”
“How did they find him?”
He scoffed. “Idiot got roaring drunk and vandalized a resident’s property. He’s in a holding cell. I’m here now, and if you want to talk to him, I can arrange something with the constable. I go way back with the guy.”
“Yeah, I want to talk to him. Be right there.”
“Just hurry up before he starts squealing for a lawyer.”
Beatrice-Rose was just taking a seat as I went inside. The food she’d ordered was on the table. I stood in front of her, noticing that she looked more composed.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go. Don’t worry about this. I’ll pay for it,” I said, holding my phone tighter in my hand as she shook her head, her eyes filling with tears again.
“Caleb, please. At least stay to finish your meal. I promise I won’t bother you anymore after this.”
“Hi, guys! How’s the food so far?” The server appeared, looking confused about why the food was sitting on the table untouched.
“I’d like to pay for this now, please,” I told her.
“Of course. I’ll be right back with the swipe machine.”
I nodded and sat back in my seat.
“Ben is right. He saw me in Paris. I do need help, Cal. After the last time I saw you, at the parking lot in school, I-I fell apart. I had a nervous breakdown.” She paused, watching me.
Was she trying to send me on a guilt trip?
“My mom sent me to Paris. She doesn’t want anyone finding out that her only daughter has mental issues. All this time, whenever I go to Paris, I’ve been…staying at a clinic there. I tried to call you, but you never answered.” She reached for her glass of water and sipped. Her hands shook. “My therapist said that I need to solve my issues by talking to the people I’ve wronged, to ask for their forgiveness. But he said I’m in denial. I know that. My head is just too clouded, Cal. I can’t…function when Dad…when Dad is dying. I don’t have anyone else. You know that. I only have you and Benjamin.”
The server returned with the pocket-sized credit-card machine. “I can come back later if you guys need more time.”
“No,” I replied. “I’ll pay now please.”
Placing my phone on the table, I pulled out my card and handed it to her. She ran my card and gave me the machine to put in my code, but it only beeped. She ran it again, and it beeped again.
“I’m sorry. We were having issues with the machine this morning. Is it all right if I meet you at the front? I’ll take your payment there.”
I nodded and followed her. When I finished paying, I was surprised to see Beatrice-Rose behind me.
“I understand you don’t want to be with me right now, Cal. She’s your rabbit,” she murmured quietly. A chill raced up my spine at the look in her eyes. “She’s your rabbit, just like Atlas was mine.”
“What are you talking about?”
She smiled. “Nothing. Just memories. I’ll see you soon, Cal.”
It wasn’t until I was on my way to the station in Devil’s Lake that I realized something about Beatrice-Rose’s smile, something about her voice, disturbed me. But once I saw Clooney at the station, the thought left my mind.
He was waiting for me outside, having a smoke with an older officer with a very distinguishable bushy beard and kind, brown eyes.
“We’re holding Justin Dumont in a cell at the back,” Constable Penner informed me after he introduced himself. “Kid’s looking for trouble. Small town like this, you’re bound to know everybody’s business. Makes my job easier, if you ask me.” He took a long drag of his cigarette before putting it out and throwing it in the trash. “Follow me.”
Clooney and I followed Constable Penner inside the small building. “Now I heard this fellow’s been staying at his uncle’s for a while. I just got back from a vacation
in the Philippines with my wife when I got a phone call from Jim. He’s the owner of the White Beaver Farm you passed on your way here,” the constable explained.
I nodded.
“Anyway, Jim calls me screaming bloody murder. He was going to blow this kid’s brains out if I didn’t arrest him right that minute. He would have gone and done it if I didn’t get there on time. Wake up, son.”
Justin was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall and his chin on his chest as he slept like the dead. His blond hair was greasy, his clothes filthy. The sight of him made me more disgusted than angry.
“Son, wake up!”
Justin woke with a start, his limbs twitching as he struggled to open his eyes. “What do you want?” he spat out. When his eyes met mine, they cleared from sleep and filled with hate. “The fuck you doing here, asshole?”
“You have guts, calling me an asshole after you planted those drugs in my car.”
Justin got unsteadily to his feet, his dirty hands grabbing the bars of his cell as he pushed his face close to me. “Don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“I want you to clean up your language now, boy,” Constable Penner interrupted. “No one curses in my station.”
“I’ll say whatever the fuck I want, old man. This bumfucking town is good for nothing. Was just passing through.”
“You don’t want to insult my town. You’re being charged with trespassing, destruction of property, breaking and entering, vandalism, and disturbing the peace. What’s wrong with you? Pissing your life away for nothing. Do you know how much time you’ll be doing for this, son?”
“I’m not your fucking son.”
“And thank the Lord Jesus for that.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Listen here, punk,” Clooney barged in. “We have footage of you sneaking inside Mr. Lockhart’s building, down to the basement parking. Sound familiar?”
“I don’t know dick about nothing.”
“Tell me, where’d you get the drugs?”
At Justin’s blank stare, Clooney shook his head mockingly. “Don’t make this hard for yourself. They’ll put you away for twenty years if you don’t cooperate.”
Always Red Page 26