“Could I have your attention?” Reverend Baker said in a voice that carried over the hushed discussions of the mourners, “We’ll begin the service in five minutes, so you all might want to wrap up your discussions and find your seats.”
He stepped away from the podium, rejoining the funeral director, who stood near the door, greeting people as they arrived.
Beth drew a breath. “I’m going to freshen up before things get underway. Be right back.”
Josh got up when she did and watched her go.
“Thank God,” Bryan said when she was out of earshot. “Dad, I’ve got to talk to you. Something’s going on.”
“I picked up on that. Look, I screwed up our cover. Maude assured me that there were very few people who knew her well enough to have known she never had kids. I didn’t realize one of them would be the police chief. But it’s okay. I gave Frankie a little of the truth and Art’s number to verify it, and I convinced her to keep quiet. I think I covered it with Beth, too—told her Maude was more like an honorary grandmother, and we—”
“It’s not about that. It’s about Beth.”
Josh stopped speaking, frowning down at his son. “What about her?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“There are some nasty rumors going around about her. They’re saying she was busted for dealing drugs to students in her old school district. Some of the bigger imaginations in town even think her house blowing up was part of some kind of organized crime retaliation thing.”
Josh felt his jaw go slack. “That’s…you’re kidding me. God, where the hell did you hear this garbage?”
“The kids in the park today. They were just repeating what they’d heard their parents saying. One kid even mentioned that maybe Maude found out and Beth or one of her criminal cohorts had her murdered.”
“Jesus.”
“One of the girls there, Shelly, is one of the kids Beth tutors. But she says her mother is going to make her stop going, and that she’ll be surprised if Beth has any students left by the end of the week.”
“Hell. That’s all she needs.”
“I just don’t get it. It’s got to be that cult leader, who’s been after her all this time, doing this, right?”
“I can only assume,” Josh said. “I can’t imagine anyone else wanting to ruin Beth’s reputation.”
“But why would he? Why would Mordecai Young want to start stories like that about Beth? What could he gain from it?”
“I don’t know.” Josh lowered his head, then raised it again. “I’ll tell you one thing, son, you’re damn good at this game.”
Bryan looked away.
“I’m serious. You’re doing better than I am. She’s getting more suspicious of me by the day.”
“Maybe that’s because all you do is lie to her.”
Josh felt his jaw firm. “It’s my job to lie to her.”
“That doesn’t make it the right thing to do, Dad.”
Josh looked up, saw Beth coming back across the crowded room. “Here she comes. Good work, Bry. Keep it up.”
Bryan sighed, but he didn’t touch on the subject again. The minister returned to the podium, then spoke long and eloquently about Maude, all her contributions to the community, how loved and respected she was. Then he made room for the locals to come up and talk about her themselves. Many did. Beth declined, and it was understandable. The words of the others had reduced her to tears, and speaking was probably beyond her by then. Josh felt too phony to get up there and wax on about a woman he had barely known, so he shook his head when the minister looked his way, and the man nodded as if he understood perfectly, then returned his attention to the crowd.
“There will be a graveside service tomorrow at two at Brookside Cemetery. And next Sunday at 8:00 p.m., as per Maude’s wishes, there will be a gathering at her home, to which all are invited. In the old days, Maudie told me, when Sam was alive, they always threw the place open at holiday time. Most of the town would gather, and there would be food, music, laughter. She wanted that one last time. For the town, she said, and for the house.” He smiled, shook his head. “She wants it to be a celebration and a send-off, not a time of mourning. And I hope to see you all there.”
Things wrapped up and people filed out. When the last of them had left, Josh got up, but Beth remained seated, staring at nothing, lost in her thoughts. He touched her arm. “Time to go, hon.” The endearment slid out before he could stop it, drawing a look from Bryan that conveyed something between surprise and disapproval.
But by then Beth was gripping Josh’s forearm, letting him help her to her feet. He put an arm around her, resting his hand at her waist as he led her to the exit, pausing only long enough to thank the minister and funeral director on the way out.
Dawn was at the house alone, and she didn’t much like it. At first it had been nice, not having to hide, being free to get snacks, watch TV, wander around the place. But once darkness fell, it became creepy. She had to keep all the lights turned off, because Beth and Joshua would be back soon, and if they saw a light on they would know someone was there.
So she left them off. And she sat in the living room, because it seemed less scary than being upstairs alone. She would hear them pull in. There would be time to slip up the stairs and into Bryan’s bedroom.
She sighed, flipping channels on the TV and hoping the light from the screen wasn’t visible from outside. Every nerve in her body was prickling and jumping. She got to thinking maybe it wasn’t entirely because she was sitting alone in the dark, or because she was in the house of a dead woman, or because she knew her lunatic father was probably in this same town or on his way there.
It was something more.
Dawn got feelings sometimes. Hints of things that were going to happen just before they did. And she hated it. It terrified her. She didn’t want to be like her birth father. She didn’t want any part of him inside her, and she secretly hoped it would just go away.
But right now, it—whatever it was—was quivering, and she knew that he was close.
She closed her eyes, tried to calm her fears, told herself it was her imagination—just before she heard the soft footsteps crossing the front porch. Reflexively, she snatched the remote and hit the power button, shutting the TV off and plunging the room into blackness. She swallowed hard, rose slowly to her feet, her eyes glued to the front door. The knob wiggled, twisted.
Her heart leaped into her throat. She fought the instinct to run and instead squinted through the darkness at the lock, managing to verify that it was engaged. Then she backed slowly toward the kitchen, her throat bone dry, determined to make double sure that door was locked, as well. She moved silently, unable to see, chills racing up her spine as the fine hairs on her nape stood erect. Feeling her way, scuffing her feet, terrified she would make some noise and give herself away, she managed to get through the pitch-black dining room and, finally, into the kitchen.
Trembling, she scuffed across the linoleum floor, her heart pounding faster and harder with every step. She reached out both hands, feeling for the knob, searching for the lock, eyes staring so hard at the curtained glass window in the top half of the door that they watered. She felt the lock. It was engaged.
Her pent-up breath escaped in a sigh—just as a silhouette, a head and shoulders, appeared beyond the curtain.
The sigh became a scream. Dawn clapped a hand over her mouth, then turned and raced through the house, banging into things, tripping, careening. She found the stairway and rushed up it, then dived into Bryan’s bedroom, closed and locked the door, and crouched in a corner, trembling….
And waiting.
Joshua drove the three of them back to the old Bickham place. It looked like a typical haunted house tonight, its paint dull and peeling, the porch slightly sagging in the middle, the lawn unkept. The only hint of color came from the vivid foliage of the trees beyond the back lawn, and already those leaves were starting to fall. Patches of brown were tiny scars on a rapidly fading masterpiece.
The porch light was on. The rest of the house was dark.
Beth sighed. “It’s good to be home.” Then she shook her head slowly from side to side. “Hell, I lived in the cottage for a year and never thought of it as home. That’s odd, isn’t it?”
Josh nodded. “Maude’s house is like that.”
“Yeah. She said it had a soul.”
He nodded, and she opened her door to get out of the car. He got out, as well, and the three of them walked to the porch, up the steps to the door.
“I’m going straight to bed,” Beth told him as he unlocked the place, and turned on the lights.
Josh said, “I know you’ve been through hell today, Beth, but I need to talk to you about something. Can you stay awake a few more minutes?”
“Sure.”
“I’m heading up to my room,” Bryan said. “Good night.”
“Night, Bry. Call if you need us,” Beth told him.
He nodded at her and hurried up the stairs.
As soon as Bryan opened his bedroom door and flipped on the light, Dawn lunged at him, snapped her arms around his neck and hugged him so hard he almost fell back out into the hallway again. “Thank God you’re back!”
“Whoa, hey, what’s this about?” He hugged her in return. Hell, this was like the opening scene from the fantasy he’d been having about her all afternoon. Of course he hugged her.
She stepped back a little, staring up at him. “While you were gone, someone tried to get into the house.”
“What?” He took his arms from around her waist and crossed the room to the window, tugged the curtain open and looked out onto the back lawn. There was nothing there. “Who? When?”
“It—it was too dark to see his face.” She moved behind him to peer over his shoulder out the window. “I got bored, went downstairs to watch some TV. I heard someone at the front door, not knocking, just rattling the knob, you know? I shut off the TV and felt my way to the kitchen to be sure that door was locked, and then there was this dark shape right on the other side of the window.” She pressed her hands to her chest. “God, I almost died. I didn’t mean to scream, it just sort of jumped out of me.”
“What did he do?”
“I don’t know. I ran up here and hid. Kept the door locked until I heard you guys pull in. I guess I scared him off.”
Bryan was riveted, watching her, and he put his hands on her shoulders, thinking how scared she must have been. “Are you okay?”
She nodded rapidly. “I didn’t see him, but I think…no, I know. I know it was him, Bryan.”
“Who?”
“Mordecai Young,” she told him. Then she looked him in the eye. “My father.”
Josh took Beth into the kitchen and put on a kettle of water as she sank tiredly into a chair. “Maude’s tea is great,” he said, “but I’m in the mood for cocoa.”
“Sounds good,” she said. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”
He licked his lips. “Well, this is your house. You’ve been gracious enough not to ask Bryan and me to leave, so far, and—”
“I don’t want you to leave.” She blurted the words as if on impulse, and the silence that followed them confirmed his guess that they hadn’t been preplanned. She seemed to gather her thoughts; then she started over. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want. Maude would have wanted it that way.”
“She would also have wanted me to return your hospitality with good manners. At the very least.”
“Your manners are fine, Josh.” She tipped her head to one side, studying him as he emptied packets of hot cocoa mix into a pair of coffee mugs with roosters on them. “But you’re getting at something, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. How do you feel about guns, Beth?”
She lifted her eyebrows. “Guns?” Clearly, it was not the topic she had thought he was working up to. “I don’t like them. I don’t think anyone should be allowed to have them. And I own one.”
He almost gaped at her. Man, she could turn the tables on him faster than anyone he’d ever met. He’d known, of course. He just hadn’t expected her to admit it. “You do?”
She nodded. “A nearly useless little derringer. I had a bigger one, but it was in the house and I guess it’s gone. Don’t worry about it being where Bryan can get at it. I’m very careful about that.”
He nodded. “I suppose it’s logical you’d have one, given your situation. Do you think you could use it?”
“I’ve already proven I could.”
He blinked, recalling what he knew about her past, realizing she was right. “So why did you bring up the subject of guns, Josh? You thinking of getting one?”
“I already have one. Two, actually. I thought you should know that.”
She lifted her brows. “Now why would a guy like you feel the need to keep a gun?”
He sighed. “A lot of reasons. Living in the city, I saw a lot. Makes a guy want a little added security.”
She pursed her lips.
“Like you I’m careful. There are trigger locks on them when they’re not on me, and I have the only keys. I just thought you ought to know they were in the house.”
She nodded slowly. “Think you could shoot someone, if it ever came down to it?” She watched his face as he thought about how to answer.
“Yeah, I think I could.”
Her eyes narrowed, head tilted just slightly to one side. “Have you?” He frowned at her, and she said, “Have you ever shot anyone, Joshua?”
The question hit hard, virtually knocking the wind out of him. He had shot someone. He’d shot her.
“You have, haven’t you?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why did you take so long to answer?”
“I was surprised by the question.” He was saved by the teakettle’s whistling, so he got up to get it, then brought it to the table and poured the bubbling water into both mugs. “Do you mind my having guns in the house?” He sat down in his chair, stirring his cocoa with a spoon.
“Depends on whose side you’re on, I guess.”
Josh stopped stirring, smelling an opportunity. He reached across the table, covered her hand with his. “Yours, Beth. No matter who the enemy is, I’m on your side. Understand?”
Her gaze glued to their joined hands, she shook her head slowly from side to side. “No. I don’t think I understand you at all.”
Josh got to his feet, and went around the table. He saw her tremble, saw her tongue dart out to moisten her lips in anticipation. He still had her hand in his, and he used it now to tug her to her feet. When she was standing, he slid his arms around her waist, tugged her gently to him, found she didn’t resist. Sliding one hand up her back, over her nape, until it cupped the back of her head, he lowered his own head slowly and kissed her. And when he lifted his head again, he said, “Now do you understand?”
“Even less,” she whispered. “What do you want with me, Joshua?”
He let his lips pull into a gentle smile. “I like you. Maybe…more than like you. I think I’m starting to fall for you, Beth.”
Her brows came together. “You don’t even know me.”
He did, he thought. He knew her. She’d been living inside his mind for almost twenty years, a ghost he could never touch. Being here with her, being able to touch her, to feel her living warm skin and taste her breath, just added to that knowing. He thought he knew her on a level far deeper than he’d ever known anyone. He thought he knew her soul.
Joshua blinked suddenly, reminding himself that this, what he was doing with her right now, tonight, was an act. A confidence scheme, designed to win her trust. He needed her to stop mistrusting everything he did or said, so that he could protect her and keep her alive.
She was staring up at him now, waiting for him to explain. He stared into her eyes, and something twisted in the pit of his stomach. Genuine attraction—because he wasn’t a monk or a dead man, after all—and guilt so big it nearly choked him. He managed to force the words out
all the same. Maybe he would burn in hell for this, but if he could save her life, it would be worth it.
“Is it really so confusing, Beth? I’m falling in love with you.”
She stared up at him for a moment, her eyes stunned, then suddenly brimming with moisture. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound emerged, and then finally she pulled free of his embrace, turned and hurried from the room.
Josh was still standing there when Bryan said, “You’re colder than ice, you know that?”
Josh looked up fast, saw that Bryan had come into the kitchen. “Don’t start on me, Bry, not now.”
“How the hell could you do that to her? Especially after what she’s been through today?”
He shook his head. “I’m not discussing this with you. It’s my job. If I don’t win her trust, she could end up dead.”
“And if you do, she’s going to end up finding out the truth, and having her heart broken and her entire world torn apart all over again. Jesus, Dad, there has to be a better way.”
“You think I want to mess with her head this way? You think I’m enjoying this or something?”
“Hell, I don’t know. You looked to be enjoying it plenty a few seconds ago when I started to walk in here and saw you kissing her.”
“Watch yourself, Bryan. You’re walking on thin ice.”
Bryan lowered his head, sighed.
“Did she see you when she went tearing out of here?” Josh asked, tempering his tone a little.
“I doubt it. She looked pretty upset.” He searched his father’s face. “You sure this whole thing isn’t going to backfire? You’re not going to wake up tomorrow to find all our stuff sitting on the porch?”
“It won’t backfire.”
Bryan pursed his lips and was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “I have to tell you something. And I can’t tell you how I know, so don’t ask.”
Josh frowned, finally tugging his attention away from the kiss and Beth’s reaction to it, not to mention his own unexpected reactions, to focus on his son. “What is it?”
Colder Than Ice Page 18