by Dana Moss
Taffy stared at her.
Cara perched on one of the counter stools and picked up a half-empty glass of ice tea and held it to her lips. The ice clinked against the cylinder of glass. She didn’t offer Taffy a drink.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Cara, why did you lie about where you were on Memorial Day weekend?”
She set her glass down on the marble countertop. “I didn’t. I told you I was at the spa in San Diego. Then I came home early. After Noel called me.”
Taffy leaned against the counter. “You came home early, yes. You said you changed your ticket to come home Monday, after Noel called you with the news about Tyler, but you weren’t on that plane. You’d already bought a one-way ticket home on Sunday afternoon the day before. Before Tyler died.”
Cara blinked. She drummed her fingers on the marble countertop. Then she stood and started pacing. “You don’t know what kind of pressure I’d been under, Taffy. I just needed time to think. To be by myself.”
“You’d just spent a week at a health spa.”
“You don’t get it. My career has dried up. I’m stuck in this small town now. I go to that spa and see all my old friends getting new endorsements, having fabulous affairs, trips around the world. The women who’ve chosen to leave and get married all have babies now, and they laugh together…” She wrung her hands and gave Taffy a pleading look. “What have I got? A husband who runs a small business in a small town. A husband still infatuated with his ex-wife. Oh, don’t think I don’t know about that. I got in touch with Annabelle Peach, too. Hired her to look into Noel’s comings and goings, on your suggestion.”
“My suggestion? But I never said—”
“You asked the other day in the coffee shop, and it got me wondering. She agreed to look into things for me because she said she had another client in the area. I assumed it was you.”
Taffy bit her lip. “It was a mistake for me to hire her. I called it off.”
Cara shrugged. “I suppose what we don’t know can’t hurt us. Or someone else.”
Taffy felt the truth of her words.
“So you know about Shannon now?”
“Annabelle confirmed this morning. She sent a nice tidy report complete with photos.” Cara grimaced and then sighed. But Taffy was perplexed.
“Does Noel know you know?”
She shook her head. “Honestly, I’d suspected for awhile. But I thought if we had our own family, all that would go away. I thought if Noel just had our child to love and protect, he’d love me the way he loved Shannon.”
“So you got pregnant thinking that would solve everything?”
“Not everything, but a lot. It would take us in a new direction, make Noel get his priorities straight.”
“It won’t, Cara. Stop fooling yourself.”
Cara clenched her jaw. “I know we’re supposed to be friends and all, but this is really none of your business, Taffy.”
“I have been trying to be your friend, Cara, truly.” Taffy sighed. “And as your friend, I need to tell you that if you really are pregnant and not just making it up—”
“I’m not making it up! How dare you?!”
“Then it can’t be Noel’s baby, Cara. He’s shooting blanks. He had a vasectomy years before he met you.”
Cara’s mouth hung open. She looked stricken. Color drained from her face. She whispered. “It’s not true…”
“When you tell him the news tonight, that’s what he’ll tell you.”
Cara, slightly dazed, set her glass on the counter. “I think you should go now….”
“Did Tyler find out about the baby, Cara? Is that why he was upset the night he died?”
She blinked. “I don’t know anything about that.”
“But you saw him that night, didn’t you? Were you at the cabin? Did something happen there? Is that why—”
“I don’t want to talk anymore, Taffy.”
She started to usher Taffy to the door.
“Who’s the baby’s father, Cara?”
She opened the front door. Taffy stood at the threshold.
“If you won’t tell me the truth, I’m going to have to tell Maria everything.”
Cara then focused on Taffy and gave her a cold, hard look. “And what exactly are you going to tell her? That you think I had something to do with Tyler’s death?” She laughed. “You have no proof.”
“I have proof that you weren’t where you said you were the night he died.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Tyler committed suicide, like Detective Salinas said. There was a journal, and a note, and—”
“It was faked, Cara.”
Her brow scrunched with confusion. “Faked?”
“I think you faked it.”
Cara looked close to tears.
“Who’s the baby’s father, Cara?”
Cara just shook her head. Then she slammed the door in Taffy’s face.
~
Taffy stood outside the Bradford house. She stared up at the dusky sky. The moon was just rising. Maria was right: it would be full this weekend.
Taffy got in her car and placed a call to Maria to tell her what had happened with Cara, to voice her suspicions, to tell her she might have been right about Cara all along, but there was no answer. Then she remembered that Finn and Maria had had plans to go out for dinner. She was finally going to talk to him about her concerns about the wedding.
As Taffy pulled away from Cara’s house and turned at the corner to head home, Noel’s Lexus passed her going the other direction, heading toward home, his wife, and her news.
Taffy assessed their situation: Lying and cheating husband returning home to lying and cheating wife. This already-broken family was only going to end up more broken. Implicating Cara was only going to add to that. And nothing would bring Tyler back. Taffy thought about her talk with Maria earlier and her promise to herself. To not keep secrets. To tell the truth. She left a voicemail for Maria. She could deal with Cara in the morning.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Taffy hurried home to meet Ethan. He would no doubt have all kinds of news about Melanie and then be keen to talk about this weekend’s camping plans. She wondered how she could get out of that.
She pulled into her driveway. Ethan hadn’t arrived yet. She was glad to have a few minutes to freshen up first.
Midnight was perched on the porch railing, washing his whiskered face with one silky black paw. His pink tongue flicked over his jaws and rubbed against his paw, which then massaged his jowls and nose. He watched her through narrow eyes as she trotted up the steps to the front door. And then she stopped short.
An upturned nest lay in her path. Pale-blue broken shells had scattered like crumbs around the woven mound of twigs, bits of paper, and lengths of string. She looked up at the rafters, where only a twig or two remained.
Then she looked over at Midnight. “How could you!?” She lunged for him, though she had no idea what she’d do if she’d managed to grab hold of him, so it was a good thing he evaded her grasp. He leapt from the porch railing and tore across the front lawn.
Taffy kneeled down by the nest and turned it right side up. Part of a shoelace lined one edge of the nest. She gathered up the shells and tucked them back in the nest. A lump formed in her throat.
She left the nest on the porch and went inside.
A few minutes later, she heard Ethan arrive.
“Did the robins fledge?” He walked into the house carrying a wad of variously sized envelopes. “I see the nest is down.”
“Midnight murdered them.”
Ethan looked confused. “But he couldn’t have reached them all the way up there.”
“Then the nest fell down and then he ate them.”
“But how did it fall? Did another bird knock it down? One of those aggressive Steller’s jays maybe?”
“What does it matter? Midnight was licking his chops when I got home. I’m going to glue the cat door shut.”
Ethan smirked. “You can’t really blame a cat for being a cat. But you also don’t know for sure he did anything to those robins, and maybe they just flew away.”
Taffy narrowed her eyes. “Since when did you and Midnight become allies?”
Ethan laughed. “By all means, seal up the cat door. Maybe then I could finally get a good night’s sleep when I stay here.”
Speaking of a good night’s sleep, what do you think about not going camping this weekend?” She offered an impish smile.
Ethan’s face fell. “But I’ve got all our gear ready for tomorrow night. It’s just the local campsite. Maria said she’s up for it.”
Taffy pouted. “Okay, fine.”
Ethan smiled. “It won’t be as bad as you imagine. I promise.” He stepped forward to give her a hug and then seemed to remember the envelopes he was holding. He held them up.
“I picked up your mail from the box… Hey, what’s this?”
He singled out a large manila envelope. “The return address says Annabelle Peach, PI. As in ‘private investigator’?”
Taffy froze. Hadn’t Miss Peach received her message? She tried to cover. “Must be advertising?”
Ethan shook his head, turning the envelope over in his hands. “No. I’ve seen these kinds of envelopes before. And the name seems familiar…” He hefted the envelope. “This is a report of some sort. Who have you been investigating?”
A feeling of guilt crept through her like an itch. “No one?”
“Is it something to do with the case? Does Maria know you called in outside help?”
Taffy shook her head. Her mind was racing to come up with something plausible to tell him. There had to be something. It could relate to Cara in some way. Maybe she redirected her mail here so Noel wouldn’t see something. Taffy caught herself trying to cast a web of lies to uphold another lie, and she realized that if she really was ready to put all this silly jealousy and secret keeping behind her, it was probably time to tell the truth. Especially to Ethan.
She sighed. “Okay. If you really want to know…” She sighed again, wanting to put off this embarrassing admission, but Ethan waited patiently. “Well….I just did some looking into, um … It’s Melanie, okay?”
Ethan’s furrowed brow stayed all crunched up as he asked, “Why in the world would you do that?”
“Well…” Taffy cleared her throat and tugged at her hair. “She just came out of nowhere and … well… I had a bad feeling about her, and…”
“A ‘bad feeling’?”
A wave of emotion crested in her gut. “I was afraid I was going to lose you!”
“Lose me?”
“I was afraid she was more your type and she was going to steal you away from me. I just didn’t want to lose you, Ethan!”
Ethan blinked a few times. “Lose me?” He repeated. He seemed to be trying to grasp the situation. His confusion sharpened to irritation. “I’m not your purse or your phone, Taffy. I’m not something you own.”
“I know that. That’s not what I meant. You don’t need to talk to me like I’m a child.”
“But you’re acting like a child! You’re acting like a bully on the playground or a mean girl in the cafeteria. The only way you can lose me is by doing something like this.”
He threw the envelope on the coffee table. “Mel has a right to keep her past private. She’s come here to start a new life.”
“But she wants to start that new life with you. She wants to steal you away from me.”
“Why in the world would you say that?”
“She’s everything you’re looking for in a girlfriend—cute, outdoorsy, smart, friendly, and she even drives a Jeep!”
Ethan’s face had contorted into abject confusion. “I can’t begin to tell you how many wrong things just came out of your mouth.”
“Just so you know,” Taffy said triumphantly, “starting next week, I will be driving a Jeep, too!”
Ethan looked at her as if she had three heads. He shook his head and sighed. “Has your PI told you anything? Have you even looked in that envelope?”
She shook her head. Of course she hadn’t opened it yet. It had only just arrived. He had walked in with it. Unfortunately, she’d left her voicemail for Annabelle too late, and clearly she hadn’t received it before posting her contentious envelope. All this time, up until her realization in Finn’s office, she’d been afraid Miss Peach would send her upsetting material. She’d imagined opening an envelope full of photos of Melanie and Ethan together. Notes full of details of their clandestine encounters. Proof that she’d been cast aside. She’d imagined making herself sick looking at whatever Peach’s private eyes had captured in her telephoto. But that was before she’d realized how foolish she’d been. That was before, when Mel had seemed like the devil incarnate. Now Taffy really was feeling sick, sick at the thought of how she’d pried into someone else’s life not just to satisfy her own curiosity but potentially to exact some sort of vengeance. And she felt sick, too, at being caught out. Especially by Ethan. That shame groove she’d carried around in her heart widened to a river’s width and threatened to drown her.
She whispered, “I’m sorry.”
But Ethan was still mad. “You know, Ted told me you were at the bar the other night with another guy. He heard from Julie that—”
“That was Mr. Ainsley! The high school principal.” Taffy rolled her eyes.
“The point is, whoever he was, you don’t see me breathing down your neck, do you? I trusted we had a good thing. And I thought you trusted me.”
He pointed at the envelope. “Whatever you thought you were trying to dig up on her meant you were also trying to dig up dirt on me.”
“I wasn’t! At least I didn’t mean too… But you’re always texting her, talking about her, getting coffees, driving her here and there. She’s everywhere in this town! Making friends with everyone I know and —”
“She just moved here, Taffy! She needs friends. You of all people should understand how hard it can be to move to a small town, to fit in. I was trying to be her friend, like I tried to be your friend when you first moved here.”
“Exactly!” Taffy wailed.
He looked confused again. And then some sort of realization dawned on him. “Ah, you think that’s my technique? Make friends with the new girl in town, fall in love, start a relationship, maybe one day get—”
As if three heads hadn’t been bad enough, he suddenly looked at her as if those three heads had all been sniffing glue. “Is that what you really think?”
Taffy had crossed her arms tightly and was looking away, unable to meet his eyes, because when he put it that way, it did sound pretty ridiculous.
He took a deep breath. His voice softened as he stepped forward.
“You know, Taffy, I think you’re beautiful. Not just cute, but beautiful. And you’re beyond smart—you’re brilliant—about some things.” He stood in front of her, slowly uncrossing her arms. “And you’re friendly—most of the time—when your emotional insecurities aren’t sabotaging your intelligence, which has clearly been happening lately.” Her arms dropped to her sides. “And I think it’s kind of cute that you’re a little afraid of the outdoors, of nature, because you haven’t learned yet to trust that it’s a calming place to be.”
“Not to me.” Taffy pouted and crossed her arms again.
“But I have faith you’ll see the light one day even if it involves air mattresses and LED lanterns and multiroom tents.”
“They have those?”
“I know we’re different, Taff. I appreciate those differences, and I’m willing to meet you halfway.” He touched her hand. “Are you willing to meet me?”
Taffy sighed heavily. “I guess I’m a little less afraid of the outdoors than I used to be. I mean, at least I’m not afraid of spiders anymore. Unlike Melanie. And to think I picked up that hairy beast with almost my bare hands and threw it into—”
Taffy bit her lip. Uh oh.
Ethan blinked. “T
hat was you?”
He stepped back from her.
“I admit it wasn’t my best moment, but—”
He held up his hand. He looked so disappointed. “I suggest you have a look in that envelope. Then give me a call when you’re ready to grow up.”
Taffy stared at the back of the door that closed so firmly behind him. Through the window, she watched him drive away. When he was gone, she noticed the empty nest full of broken shells still sitting on the porch. She felt irrationally enraged at Midnight all over again.
She went to the kitchen intending to block the cat door, at least for one night, but right in front of it, she found a limp, blue-feathered lump. A dead Steller’s jay offering from Midnight that had probably lain there all day. She peered at it closely. In its beak she saw two tiny robin feathers.
Maybe Ethan was right. Maybe Midnight hadn’t attacked the nest but instead had tried to defend it.
Taffy went back to the living room and curled up on the couch. Fetal position. She thought about all the “wrong things” that seemed to be coming out of her head these days.
A few minutes later, Midnight trotted in from the kitchen, meowing curiously when he saw Taffy curled up on the couch. He climbed up the armrest and then gingerly touched down on Taffy’s hip. He curled up there, purring victoriously.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
The next morning, Maria was waiting for Taffy in a back booth at the Magpie Brewing Company.
As Taffy slid moodily onto the bench across from her, Maria gave her the once over.
“You’re wearing sweat pants.”
Taffy reached over and stole a sip of Maria’s latte. Kyle, the barista, had started making one for Taffy as soon as she walked in. She must have really looked like she needed one.
Maria added, “I’ve never seen you wear sweat pants. What happened?”
She told Maria about the night before with Ethan. Maria chuckled.