Bella Luna

by Sharon Struth

  The jealousy over his upstairs guest returned, definitely an unwarranted reaction. Especially when she was just passing through like the migratory birds.

  Someday she’d leave this town. The mere idea opened a gap inside her chest that stung. At what point had she become so…so attached to this place?

  “Emma?”

  She snapped out of her thoughts and found Harry watching her. “I’m sorry? What?”

  “You okay?”

  She smiled and it helped ease some of the sadness inside her. “Oh, just thinking about how I’m glad I found a home at Blue Moon Lake. At least for a while.”

  “You don’t really know how long you’re staying then?”

  “No.” Rose slipped her fingers around the edge of Adirondack chair arm, wishing she could enjoy seeing this lake change through all the seasons. “Eventually I’ll need to deal with my ex. Escape doesn’t make our problems disappear.”

  “Wise words.” A bird chirped in a weeping willow tree near Leo’s yard. Harry picked up his binoculars and viewed the tree, but added, “With that attitude, you’ll get things worked out.”

  The irony in his statement wasn’t wasted on her. Her “do what I say, not what I do attitude” had reached a new low. Running from her problems had only given them more power.

  Two large geese landed on the lawn near the dip into the lake. Bella’s head lifted. She writhed in the grass like a worm until finally managing to get up on all fours. As she chased away the birds, they squawked loudly and ascended over the lake.

  The second she got good news from the PI, Rose would be running off. The problem: she wasn’t sure she wanted to leave.

  For once, she had an urge to lead an honest life, where secrets didn’t exist and she could simply be herself.

  Chapter 17

  Leo’s heart thrashed wildly in his chest as he ran, and yet…oh God, he grew harder by the minute. The slender model, with flaming red hair, the most perfect lips, and wearing silky lingerie topped off with a cowboy hat, swung a lasso. She nipped his heels. Run! Faster. Faster. The rope slipped around his chest and pulled tight. Using all his strength, he fought to free himself but a force stopped him when he slammed his skull into a hard surface…

  Leo’s head crashed into the attic eaves above his bed, fully waking him. “Ow! Damn it!”

  The piercing pain did little to ease a morning hard-on thanks to the bizarre erotic dream.

  Blinking into the morning sun streaming through the window, he considered the signals in his subconscious that kicked off the madness. His gaze drifted to the worktable, where he’d been working until midnight. Yesterday’s pair of panties now sat next to his story outline. He fell back onto the pillow and laughed. The cowboy hat must’ve been about the baggy overalls Emma owned, but the absurdity of everything else that played out somehow eased his pain.

  He wished Emma were as easy to figure out as the dream. She certainly hid her problems well. If not for overhearing her conversations, he might know very little about them and think she had it all together. Yet he couldn’t let go of the rope pulling him to her. He’d hand over a million bucks to know her endgame with the panty teasers.

  Leo rolled out of the twin bed, rubbing the sore spot on his temple. He picked up the latest silk offering and tossed them into the file cabinet with the others. A perfect line up of red, white, and blue. Very patriotic, and a twist considering his recent finding she was involved in politics.

  Plenty of people have been convicted for using straw donors.

  Answers, all Leo wanted, only led to more questions. Like who she’d spoken to on the phone, and what had John done to make him a “sick man?” A humbling thought struck him…had she ever left panties at this John person’s door?

  A clank sounded from the lower level. If he caught her at breakfast, maybe he could strike up a conversation, get her to talk about herself and separate fact from fiction. On the second floor, he made a quick stop in the bathroom then went to the kitchen in his wrinkled T-shirt and sweatpants.

  “Good morning.” A plate of unappetizing scrambled egg whites, plated with slices of apple, sat on the table. Leo noted Rose’s Hello Kitty flannels again, but he refrained from teasing this time. “Nice day.”

  “It is.” She poured coffee, meeting his gaze for a brief moment. “Want some?”

  “Please. Thanks.”

  Bella sat looking out into backyard from the sliding door in the dining room. Leo paid his morning respects. When he reentered the kitchen, Emma glanced his way.

  “I heard a bang upstairs. Everything okay?”

  “Yup.” The sensation in his groin when waking briefly returned, but he ignored it and removed a thick bagel from the breadbox. After getting the butter from the refrigerator, he put both on the table.

  “Your commitment to poor eating is admirable.” She smiled and sat down. After taking a napkin, she placed it on her lap.

  He grabbed a knife from the drawer and joined her at the table. “Thank you.” He laid down a napkin and sliced the bagel on it, noting she winced when he did. “According to my doctor, my cholesterol is still under two hundred.”

  She shook her head. “Of course it is. You probably can drop five pounds in a day by just thinking about it, too.”

  He chuckled and buttered his bagel, selecting work as a good topic to start a discussion. “Since you’re a travel agent, mind if I ask you a work-related question?”

  “Shoot.”

  “I’m thinking about taking a trip. What do you recommend this time of year?”

  “It really depends on the type of travel you like.” She sipped her coffee and waited for an answer with raised brow.

  “A trip to Europe sounds nice.”

  “For someone single, or a romantic destination?”

  “Single, I’d say.”

  “Really?”

  He looked up. “Yes. Why?”

  “Just because there seems to be an array of women in your life.” Her cheeks turned pink as she pushed the eggs with her fork.

  “Oh? Care to tell me about them?”

  She lowered the fork and met his gaze. “There’s Susan. And then whoever stopped by yesterday.”

  “You mean my assistant?”

  She blinked. “Oh.”

  “You disappeared before I could introduce you.”

  She blushed again. “But you and Susan, you seemed—”

  “We used to date. We’re just friends. And my assistant and I worked upstairs instead of in here just in case you needed to use the kitchen.”

  She lifted a slice of apple and nibbled at one corner. Uncertainty showed in her eyes, and he wasn’t sure how to read it.

  “I see,” she finally said.

  “Is this about our kiss?” he asked softly, certain it was exactly the reason.

  “God no! Definitely not. I just…I was curious because you asked about travel plans.”

  They ate for a moment in silence. It unquestionably was about their kiss, but to probe crossed a line. He debated about where to go next with this poor attempt at conversation. Instead of helping him learn more about her, he’d only confessed the dire status of his romantic life.

  Before he could come up with anything, she said, “I was wondering what’s up with you and your brother? How is it he didn’t know you were at the house when he rented the place to me?”

  “We don’t talk much.”

  “If you both own this place, don’t you need to talk?”

  “Yes, my father thought so, too. Why he left us both ownership. Dad has probably spent a lot of time rolling over in his grave.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  Leo lifted his bagel to take a bite but paused. “How about we discuss the weather or world peace?”

  “Sometimes it takes one party reaching out.” She tucked a flyaway strand of her brassy red hair behind one ear. “I’m just saying…”

  “The reconciling email I sen
t to my brother has gone unanswered. Any other ideas, Dr. Freud?” He bit into the bagel and chewed hard.

  “Just offering some help.” She shrugged and finished off the apple slice.

  Here he’d hoped to get some information out of her, but she easily pried his most private thoughts from him. Next he’d be confessing how things weren’t always horrible with he and Everett, the way they’d escalated in their teenage years, and how his engagement to Camille shut off all communication between the brothers.

  His muscles twitched to regain control of this conversation. “Do you have any siblings?”

  “Me? No.” She shook her head. “An only child.”

  He pocketed the tidbit, one seeming true, not part of the persona she played.

  “Oh, yesterday I had a nice visit with Harry, from next door.”

  “Since when are you friends with him?” Did she have a whole life here he didn’t know about?

  “We met a few days ago. Bella’s doing, actually. He told me you two met on your first summer here.”

  “We did. I wouldn’t have started a writing journal if it weren’t for him. It was actually pretty good therapy for a kid like—well, anyway, he’s great with kids.”

  Her eyes pierced him. “What were you about to say?”

  “Harry treated me different than most adults, like he didn’t know my story.”

  “Your story?”

  “The early years of my life. My birth mother was a drug addict and died from an overdose.”

  “I’m sorry. That must’ve been difficult for you.”

  Leo shrugged, although it didn’t omit the weight of sharing such a personal detail with her. “Harry was great though. Treated me regular, a real novelty those days.”

  “I’ll bet it was. Sometimes well-intentioned adults forget what children are feeling.” She studied him for a few seconds. “But it sounded like you kids have some great memories from those days. At least Harry enjoyed sharing them.”

  “Yeah, we did. The first time we met—I was five at the time—I was drawn over to these enormous sunflowers near his garden. I asked if I could climb them—like Jack climbed the beanstalk. Instead, he showed me the tree-fort built for his kids. Suggested I climb up there. I think it was the start of a beautiful friendship,” Leo added, doing his best Bogart imitation with the classic movie line.

  She laughed, so sweet and tender his heart thumped a little faster.

  “So that was when the Drakes adopted you?”

  “Yup. Two summers after my mom died.” Leo suddenly felt as if someone had stripped him naked in a crowded room. He remembered his commitment to learn about her. “What about your childhood?”

  She looked down at her shirt and made a brushing motion with her hand, but he didn’t see anything there. “Oh, you know. Nothing too interesting.” She passed a feeble smile and stood, picking up her plate and mug. “I’d better get to work. Lots to get done.”

  She put her dirty plates in the dishwasher and disappeared down the hallway.

  The intimate talk reminded him of moments with Camille, where they’d lie together after making love and talk about the roadmap of their lives. Details bringing them closer. Turning their passion into the intimacy found in love. It made him yearn to be close to a woman again.

  More than ever, he didn’t simply want to know Emma’s story. He needed to know it.

  * * * *

  “Are you behind this mess?” Rose worked hard to sound stern.

  Bella lifted her bloodshot eyes in a pitiful display of innocence worthy of an Oscar.

  Rose scoured the half-emptied hamper bag on the floor. The clothes she’d put in there were pulled out, left in a mess. She stuffed clothing back into her makeshift hamper, a plastic garbage pail bag. Not quite the laundry chute going straight to the cellar in her bedroom back in North Carolina. And easy access for Bella.

  “I’m onto you.” Rose narrowed her eyes at the dog, who blinked back with the innocence of a bribe-taking politician.

  Rose lifted the bag and headed out the apartment door to the laundry room at the end of the hallway. Bella followed. Halfway down, she nearly stepped on a pair of underpants on the floor. She swiped them up, not certain how they’d fallen out of the bag.

  At the alcove area that held a washer and dryer, she dumped in her laundry and added some detergent. Just as she swiped the start button, a snort from Bella drew Rose’s attention to the corner near the machine.

  Bella lifted her paw and scratched at the wall.

  “Stop, Bella.”

  Bella ignored her and scratched again. This time, a section of the wall fell out.

  “Damn it.” Rose lowered herself to her hands and knees. She bumped against the dog, gently pushing her aside. A perfectly shaped rectangular piece of sheetrock lay on the linoleum laundry room floor, leaving a big gaping hole in the wall.

  “Thanks a lot. Leo will have a fit if he sees this. I’m throwing you under the bus for this one. He’s got a soft spot for you, anyway.”

  Bella pushed past Rose and sniffed at the opening.

  Rose lifted the piece, about a one-by-two-foot cut. She held the section up to the wall, hoping she could insert it back in place and Leo would be none the wiser. As she sized up the Sheetrock to refit it into the wall, the overhead light caught a glimmer of something inside the opening. Rose reluctantly stuck her hand inside, felt around, and removed a smooth metal object. A recorder. Black and silver, with a few buttons. She hit the “power” button and a little green light came on.

  Record, play, rewind. A timer. Huh? Was Leo’s house under surveillance? Or…wait. Was he listening to her? She studied the device more closely. She’d never seen anything quite like this before.

  She hit play.

  Static-sounding voices—a little like white noise—started to play, going on for a good twenty seconds. She nearly jumped when a creepy, low moan started. A voice. Yet not a voice. Muted, as if someone covered the microphone and made the sound.

  She sat on the floor and pondered the facts. Her bedroom, on the other side of this wall, would certainly hear sounds from this area. The night she’d sworn she heard ghostly sounds, they had been similar to what she’d just replayed.

  She stuck the device back inside the hole and replaced the fallen Sheetrock. A rather strange puzzle of facts sat before her. It started with Leo’s insistence that she understand the prior tenant believed the house was haunted. The second piece was Harry’s comment that Leo moved right in immediately after the tenant fled.

  Did Leo scare out the first tenant? Had he tried to do the same to her? Their kiss, so tender, so loving, wasn’t the touch of a man who wanted her to leave. But desperation made people do bizarre things. But this recorder—and even the moved photographs—all pointed to the possible notion Leo might have tried to pull the same prank on her that he’d played on the last tenant.

  She smiled. Leo wasn’t the only one who could pull pranks. He needed to put his haunting days behind him for good. Or at least he should learn he couldn’t pull those stunts on everyone. The question was what could she do?

  * * * *

  Rose approached the turn to the vineyard for her Friday night shift. Her cell phone rang. She pulled over. Dan Montgomery’s number flashed across the display, so she answered.

  “Rose. I’m glad I caught you.”

  Dan always sounded in control and businesslike, so this semi-panicked tone made her gut tighten with worry.

  “Two things. My guy following your husband said he left DC and pulled into the driveway at your house in North Carolina five minutes ago.”

  Rose closed her eyes and imagined him walking in to find the message she’d left behind.

  “Did you write what we discussed on the note?”

  “Yes. I told him how I knew what he’d done and if he reported me, I would tell the authorities about his involvement.”

  “Perfect.” Dan exhaled. “I suspect he went home
because he knows something is up. Maybe he’s tried to reach you.”

  “It’s possible. I left my cell phone right next to the note on the kitchen counter. So he doesn’t try.”

  “Good. There’s one more thing you should know. One of my sources heard the Department of Justice and FBI are one step from a full-scale investigation of John’s campaign accounts. If the authorities go public with the news, John’s face will be all over the TV and internet.” Dan paused, and more quietly added, “Possibly yours, too.”

  Rose rested her forehead on the top of the steering wheel as her body went cold.

  “Has anybody recognized you yet?” Dan asked.

  “I don’t think so,” she mumbled, feeling as if she were drowning from her worst fears closing in on her.

  “Then just stay put. We’re close to finding enough evidence to prove you didn’t do this, but we need a few days. Maybe until the end of next week. I’ll call you if I learn anything more.”

  She said goodbye and hung up. Her job at the vineyard waited, a public place she’d enjoyed the other day now carrying the threat of an approaching storm. The FBI inched closer. How much time did that give her? If even one person made the connection, the gig here in Northbridge could be over.

  The urge to run owned her. This time, however, it abated quickly. She was tired of running. Besides, she didn’t have any money to make another getaway.

  Her money. Where the heck could it have gone? She’d searched the whole house and tore apart her own belongings. One place she hadn’t checked was Leo’s locked file cabinet. After their kiss, and how they seemed to be growing closer, she wanted to believe he hadn’t taken it. If someone submitted this question to Dr. Rose, she’d tell them to open the channels, learn to trust. So why couldn’t she?

  Therapy during her psychologist training had shown Rose how she’d lost all ability to trust people the day her parents died. Their problems and drama overshadowed their love for her. At least, she’d spent a good portion of her life feeling that way.