Chapter Three
Brooke
Brooke was not a "take ’em as they come" kind of woman. She liked to approach each new day with a thoroughly detailed to-do list scrawled onto her favorite rose-scented stationary with her initials emblazoned across the top. BFF. Brooke Frances Fischer. The one—the only—BFF to the entire town of Herald Springs. Well, at least as far as they knew.
Everyone in the town—heck, in the state—loved Brooke and her tiny fur companion, Tiara. After all, what wasn’t to love? In her prime, she’d been crowned Miss Herald Springs Teen Queen, and her beauty hadn’t faded one lick over the years. Like the imported Chianti she kept plentifully stocked in her home’s private cellar—and also, by special request, always on hand at the Book Cellar—Brooke had only gotten better with age.
At twenty-nine, she had her pageant title, a husband who was both handsome and wealthy, an adorable Pomeranian of blue ribbon blood...and then there was her business. While she only worked a few hours each week, her party-planning business was always in high demand. The Herald Chronicle had even named her Business Woman of the Year for three years running. Not that it was hard in this tiny Podunk town, but still—she loved seeing the look on Mitsy Grazier’s face year after year as Parties by Brooke beat out her muffin bakery yet again.
Yes, Brooke had quite the glamorous life, one for which she preferred to hold the reins. Which is why it was so upsetting that Vi had invited a certain frizzy-haired stranger to their book club that evening.
Vi, her little Violeta, of all people should have known better. And there she was now, waving spastically at Brooke as she entered in her new D&G cocktail dress and Hermes sandals. Nobody dared tell her she was overdressed for a trip to the local bookstore. In fact, they’d probably all soon be buying cheap knock-offs at the local Target, but by then Brooke would have moved on to a bold, new fashion statement that was all her own.
Always keep them guessing what you’ll do next, she thought to herself as Jesse pulled out a chair for her at the head of their table.
“Sorry, ladies and Jess.” She settled Tiara on her lap, then shot an ingratiating smile toward the group. Indeed, it took work to stay at the top, even where your closest friends were concerned. “I didn’t have time to read the book.”
That much was true. She’d lost interest after the first few pages failed to grab her attention. Besides, she’d spent the better part of that morning lying in bed and Googling up a storm on her iPad.
Annabeth King had appeared in their neighborhood with no notice, seemingly out of nowhere, and Brooke knew better than to trust anyone without first doing her research. Hers had failed miserably when she couldn’t so much as find a Facebook account for one Ms. King. There were a billion others, but not the red-haired ball of frizz she was looking for.
Vi chortled and took a bite from her giant chocolate chip muffin.
The new girl—the one with seemingly no digital footprint—rolled her eyes. Well, one way or another she’d dig up a bit of intel, especially since Vi seemed to insist on making the she-devil a part of their regular entourage. Everyone thought they were best friends with Brooke Fischer, but few actually were. Could she really trust this walking fashion disaster with such an important responsibility? Frankly, she doubted it, but she’d at least wait to see what she could find out before making any official decisions on the matter.
“That’s okay, Queen B. We know you’re very busy and important,” Jesse picked up his eReader and pulled up his notes and highlights for Gone Girl. “We’re happy to catch you up.”
“Actually, I figured we’d use this opportunity to get to know a little bit about this stranger in our midst. Annie, is it?” She put on her biggest and brightest smile.
“It’s Annabeth, and this is a book club, right? Let’s talk about the book. Personally, I loved how Flynn didn’t—”
“Yeah, we call ourselves a book club, because we meet here at the Cellar and occasionally will read a book or two.” She let out a low giggle. “But really we’re just a group of friends taking a quick break here and there to relax and knock back a few drinks. Isn’t that right, Vi?” She turned to her best friend who was mid-bite.
Vi nodded vigorously and covered her mouth with her hand as she spoke. “Oh, yes. Like I told you, Annabeth, we’re the drink and gossip club.”
Jesse tucked his eReader back into his shoulder bag and drummed his fingers against his half-empty glass of beer. “Drinking and gossiping, my two favorite things. And tonight’s topic of conversation is definitely you, my dear. Help us fill in the blanks, lest we should be forced to fill them in ourselves. And, believe me, you don’t want that.”
Brooke and Jesse laughed. Whereas Vi tended to be clueless about, well, pretty much everything, Brooke could always count on Jesse to have her back. She often thought of him as her gay best friend, even though he actually had a wife and two kids. But Jesse’s knack for fashion, gossip, and blogging would have been too much to bear if she thought of him as a virile, manly man. At least gay was safe, right?
Vi stared at the surface of the table.
The bartender delivered a glass of Brooke’s signature Chianti along with an almond biscotti for her pooch. He gave Tiara a quick scratch behind the ears before running back to the counter to help the waiting line of customers.
Annabeth turned red, whether from nerves or from indignation it was difficult to tell. “Not really much to tell. I’m Annabeth King, and I came to…”
“No need to be so nervous. We’re all friends here.” Brooke fixed her gaze on the newcomer, daring her to suggest otherwise.
“Thanks, but I’m not nervous. Like I said before, there isn't much to tell. My husband Marcus and I moved here from Detroit so I could go back to school to get my Ph.D. in Comparative Literature—"
“At U of A,” Vi interjected with a look of pride on her beautiful but unkempt face.
“Yes, thank you, Vi. I'm going back to college for my Ph.D. I got a full scholarship and a TA job in the English Department teaching Freshman English Composition. Marcus was lucky enough to get a job at the university as a manager in the records department.”
“Living here makes for quite the commute. Why aren't you living on campus?” Jesse asked.
“We've had enough big city living to last us a lifetime, and Austin seems like it might be a bit too weird for my tastes, especially if we were to live on campus with all the crazy undergrads. We heard about how Herald Springs was voted one of the best small cities to live in. So we thought, sure why not?”
“You just went for it, moving to some small town cross country, without doing your research, huh?”
“Research?” Annabeth laughed. “You make it sound like buying the best vacuum or something. It’s just a place to live.”
Jesse gasped. “Take it back, take it back now. HS is so much more than that. You’ll see.” He sipped at his beer, his eyes crinkled in a mischievous smile.
“Jesse’s right. How could you suggest buying a vacuum is more important than buying a house? Unless you didn’t buy it outright. You’re not…” She paused to let the disgusting revelation sink in amongst the group. “Renters, are you?”
Jesse shuddered while Vi rolled her eyes.
“No, we bought. And that’s not at all what I meant. I—”
Brooke held up a hand. She’d heard enough. “It’s fine if you are. I mean, who are we to judge? On behalf of Herald Springs, we welcome you, regardless of the circumstances that brought you here.”
“Yes, welcome to the town,” Vi gushed.
“You done good choosing HS as home. You’ll see,” Jesse added.
“Umm, thanks, I guess. Would it be okay if we talked about the book now maybe?”
Brooke leaned back in her chair and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She wasn’t exactly sure she liked Annabeth. Not yet anyway. But at least she knew this woman was no threat to her long-held position of Herald Springs’s social ruler.
; Still, something was definitely off about Annabeth King, and Brooke fully intended to find out what that something was. Oh, how she loved a fun new side project.
Chapter Four
Annabeth
Vi hugged Annabeth goodnight on the narrow strip of grass that divided their two properties. They’d stayed late after Jesse and Brooke had gone home. The Cellar’s funky blues band paired well with their beers.
Vi had told her all about her mentally disabled sister, her work at a domestic violence shelter, and how she hadn't been on a date in years. Unlike the nosy busybody, Brooke, Vi had never once asked any personal questions or pried in any way into Annabeth’s past.
“Goodnight, Annabeth. Don’t forget next Saturday you’re coming with us to the rodeo,” Vi said with a teasing smile.
“I wouldn’t miss meeting Joy for the world.” Annabeth felt a little tipsy as she stumbled over the prickly grass to her front door.
It took Annabeth a minute to steady her hand and unlock the door. Once inside, she kicked off her boots and tiptoed down the hall to her room. As her eyes adjusted to the dark she noticed a familiar form lying on her bed. Marcus.
Drunk and tired, she was caught off guard when he pulled her down onto the bed with him.
What the heck?
“Why are you in my bed?”
“Mmm…” He hummed as he drew her up against his bare chest.
“Marcus—” she warned, but he cut her off.
“No funny stuff. I promise. The couch is killing my back. Have pity on a man.”
“Fine, I'll sleep on the couch then.” She tried to sit up, but Marcus’s strong forearm hooked around her waist and held firm. A game of tug of war broke out between her head and heart.
“Stay.” His husky voice weakened her defenses.
“Marcus...” She wet her lips with a quick sweep of her tongue. She knew her disheartened protest wasn't going to sway him.
Her heart’s plea won her over at last. For the first time in months, she dropped down her guard. He seemed to notice the shift in her attitude and became bolder. His finger traced lazy circles on her bare arm, making gooseflesh break out next to the freckles on her upper body.
“Anna,” he said, his breath tickling her neck. “I miss you.”
Annabeth felt her chest tighten as a swell of emotions washed over her tired body. “I miss you too.”
She wasn't sure if it was the darkness or the alcohol in her system but she felt uninhibited enough to voice the question she had wanted to ask him dozens of times over the last few months. “Do you ever dream about it?”
She felt his body tense against her. “Yeah, all the time. Even when I'm awake.”
His words struck a chord in her and she soon found herself twisting her body until they were nose to nose. The close proximity made her breathless. She had to fight with herself to stop from further closing the gap between them. Forget about the past and lose herself in him.
Marcus looped his arm around where her shirt had started to ride up.
“Do you? Dream about it?” His bowed lips pursed and his brow furrowed.
Annabeth swallowed hard to keep herself from crying. “Yeah, sometimes,” she said, her voice just above a whisper.
Marcus tucked the loose strands of her hair behind her ear. “Morgan called while you were out.”
Her chest prickled with fear. “Oh?”
“The appeal was rejected. We’re still in the clear.”
Annabeth let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
Marcus regarded her with a look of surprise. “Did you think their appeal was going to be accepted?”
“Shouldn't it have?” she asked, looking directly at him.
“No, Anna. They were right in rejecting it.”
“But a girl died because we—” Annabeth said, choking on her words until Marcus cut her off by putting a finger on her lips.
“We did not kill that girl. Get that straight in your head. You can't keep carrying around the guilt for a crime you didn't commit.”
Annabeth sighed. “If we had been paying attention, she might not have died.”
Marcus tightened his hold on her so that she rested her head on his bicep.
“We don't know that, and if she hadn't died we wouldn't be here now.” He soothed the back of her neck where a knot the size of Texas had been building over the last year.
His words sounded more like a justification to get them off the hook. Even in the dark she could sense him looking at her, trying to read her.
His firm hand slid up and down the leg of her jeans, sending a shiver down her spine. When his nose touched hers he pulled back. “Why don't you go get cleaned up. Brush your teeth. You smell like beer.”
Embarrassed, she felt a shy smile creep across her face. “Sorry.”
“Wait. Did you have a good time?” He loosened his hold on her.
“Yeah, actually. I met another neighbor, Jesse.”
“Oh and what’s she like? Same as that uppity Brooke?”
“Well, he is a very handsome and intriguing man. Not uppity at all.”
Annabeth smiled knowing she had his full attention now. He had never acted jealous before, but the precarious nature of their current relationship changed everything.
“Tell me more. Should I be worried?”
Annabeth giggled as she fished her phone out of her pocket and pulled up Jesse’s blog.
“Yes, but not for the reason you think. He’s this town’s local gossip columnist. Here’s his latest blog. He already knew our names and where we came from.” She worried her lip and handed her phone over to him.
Marcus read out loud portions of the blog post.
Speaking of things that go great with chili, seems we’ve got a couple of new arrivals in Herald Springs this week. Make sure to stop and say hello to Marcus and Annabeth King. They just moved here from Detroit. He’s taken a job in the records department at the college while she’s doing the whole grad school thing. Think they’ll be much competition for Brooke this spring at the neighborhood cook-off, or will her chili once again reign supreme? Let’s hope for their own sakes, they’re not too good in the kitchen...
Sighing he handed her back her phone. “What do you think?”
Annabeth stretched her leg so that it brushed up against his. She had been thinking about the Jesse situation all night.
“It would be wrong to just disregard him as small potatoes. We’ll need to be careful, but it’s too late for that conversation tonight. I’m going to go freshen up.” She slipped out of bed and went to the master bath to get ready for bed.
The emptiness of the room greeted her when she stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later. Down the hall she could hear the faint sounds of his snoring coming from the living room.
Disappointment and loneliness shared the room with her in his absence. But she’d ruined any chance at a light-hearted romp when she brought up their horrible past.
That night she dreamed of it. She awoke soaking wet and gasping for air. She wondered if, after everything was said and done, she would ever be able to let it all go—or if it would stay with her for the rest of her life. A small price to pay for the life that was taken.
Chapter Five
Vi
Vi loved her job as an advocate at the Lighthouse Crisis Center, but the hours sometimes wore on her. That night she had the overnight on-call shift. At 3 a.m. a call came in from the hotline that a woman had requested help. When she worked late hours she would sleep in street clothes. This allowed her to be out the door five minutes after the call came in.
When Vi found the young woman waiting on the side of the road, her heart broke. Dressed only in a man’s white T-shirt and light cotton shorts, she looked like a little girl wearing her parents' clothing. As it turned out, she hadn’t been too far off. The girl was only eighteen and three months pregnant to boot.
It was after eight by the time Vi got her situated in the shelter.
She had
just enough time to shower and get dressed to be on time for the 9:30 Mass at St. Paul's. If she didn’t go today she would have to try and sneak in a weekday service, which never worked out. And skipping it altogether was out of the question. Even in her rebellious teen years she’d never missed church. Ricky liked to tease her about her strict adherence to the Catholic attendance code. As a traveling bull rider he was almost never in town to attend church.
But even if she wanted to, she couldn’t bail. Father Horatio was depending on her to take him after the service to visit with her Abuela Rose, who was in a memory care nursing home. Every Sunday after the service, Vi would take him to visit with her and give her Communion.
Before she walked inside the church, she shot off a text request to Mitsy Grazier to order a last minute batch of her famous chocolate muffins with the sugar sprinkled on top. She hadn’t had enough time to make some for the group home’s annual fundraiser bake sale. Brooke would flip her lid if she knew that Vi was giving business to her archrival, but desperate times, desperate measures, and all that.
“Ms. Vi, don’t you look lovely this morning?” a familiar voice called out, causing her to turn on her heels.
Ricky.
Just the sight of him gave her unholy thoughts. He had on a cream-colored hat and a blue button-down dress shirt that looked freshly pressed. His green twill dress pants hugged him in all the right places. Shoot!
“We seem to be running into each other a lot lately. When did you start going to the early service?”
Vi tried her best to avoid his heated gaze, but she was no match for Ricky. Never had been.
Ricky’s hand bumped against the back of hers. One of his fingers hooked her hand and brought it up to his lips for a quick kiss. “Since I found out the most beautiful woman in town went to this service.”
“Ricky...” Vi pulled her hand away from him in a half-hearted admonishment.
Dipping his head down until it was level with hers, he whispered, “I also know you can't run away from me here. You sure force a man to get creative in his wooing.”
Walker Texas Wife (The Book Cellar Mysteries 1) Page 3