She shifted as if uncomfortable again. “It was Mr. Whitaker. He and Charity were talking, apparently. It was heated.”
“Is everyone okay?”
What he really wanted to know was: Was Charity okay? He wasn’t sure why he was so concerned about a woman he barely knew. Maybe it was the trauma she’d endured as an adolescent or the way people had treated her in town today. Whatever the reason, he sensed she needed someone to be in her corner. He wasn’t saying that person should be him; he wasn’t saying it shouldn’t be, either.
Lynn nodded. “From what I understand.”
He didn’t want to waste any more time. “I’m going to go check on Charity, see what’s going on.”
He took off down the road. This should be interesting. Even for a small town, the amount of run-ins he and Charity had with each other was uncanny. And what kind of possible evidence could Charity have found in the time since he’d seen her at the pharmacy?
He pulled up to her house, and when she opened the door, he immediately noticed she was pale. Her hands trembled, and her eyes had that blank expression that only grief and shock could cause. He’d seen it too many times. It reflected how she’d looked yesterday when she’d gotten that message on her phone, as well.
“Thanks for coming,” she murmured, pushing the screen door open. “Come on in.”
He stepped into her home, instantly noting how stifling hot it was inside. A single box fan sat in the window, attempting to move air through the room. It didn’t help.
He turned back to the woman. “You had evidence of a crime that you wanted to report.”
She nodded, her arms pulled tightly over her chest. She nodded toward a plastic bag on the coffee table. “It’s right there.”
He picked up the bag and stared at the blue stocking hat inside. “A hat?”
“I need to sit down.” She fanned her face.
He caught her elbow, afraid she might pass out, and he kept his hand there until she reached the couch. He sat down in the chair near her and waited until she composed herself. Finally, she nodded to the hat again.
“It was my best friend Andrea’s,” she started. “I’m sure you’ve probably heard the whole lurid story by now. She wore it on the day she disappeared.”
“I’ve only heard bits and pieces. I know she disappeared and that the case went cold.” He wanted to hear Charity’s interpretation of everything.
She glanced his way, a fleeting emotion in her blue eyes, and finally nodded. “That’s right. Ten years ago.”
He studied the hat a moment as he gathered his thoughts. “What makes you think this is her hat?”
Charity kept her chin raised and her shoulders back. “Because it is. It’s blue, and it has the Eagleton logo on the front—the old logo. It changed the year after Andrea disappeared.”
As much as she seemed convinced, Joshua had to stay objective and think this through. “But still, there could be others just like that around here, right? Other people work for that company.”
“But Andrea’s had a tear on it, right below the logo. She got it caught on the swing out back one time, and it pulled the stitching out. If you examine that hat, you’ll see that the rip is still there. That hat is Andrea’s.”
He needed to buy some time as he processed that information. “I’m new in town, but I understand that no evidence has turned up for a very long time.”
“Believe me, I know how this sounds. But I had to report the hat, just in case there was any hope of finding her . . . I couldn’t hide what might be potential evidence.” Her voice broke under the strain of her words.
“I’d like to hear what happened that day, Charity. Would you mind talking about it?”
She sucked in a long breath. “A man snatched my friend as we walked home from school. That’s everything in a nutshell.”
“Did he try to grab you also?”
“He grabbed me first, but I got away.”
He softened his voice. “What happened after you ran, Charity?”
“I went to go get help. But when I reached the field, I tripped. I hit my head. I didn’t come to for another thirty minutes. By the time I called the police, Andrea was long gone.” Her words cracked with unspoken emotion. “Darkness had already fallen, both literally and symbolically.”
Joshua shifted, realizing the guilt Charity probably felt. “Charity, did something happen in the parking lot of the pharmacy after I saw you there?”
When her eyes widened with surprise, he had his answer. Yes, it did.
“Word travels quick around here,” she finally said. “Some things never change.”
“What happened?” It didn’t matter if she tried to brush the incident off; Joshua took matters like this seriously.
She raised a shoulder in a poor attempt to look nonchalant. “It was nothing I didn’t deserve.”
“I heard Ron Whitaker grabbed your arm, made you drop your groceries.”
Her eyes widened again. “And when word got around town, no details were spared.” She dropped her carefree act, and her shoulders slumped. “Yes, he did. He’s angry. He’s had ten years to be upset with me, so when he saw me after all this time, everything obviously boiled to the surface.”
“Do you want to press charges?”
“No, of course not. The last thing I want to do while I’m here is to stir up trouble.”
He stared at her another moment, trying to decide how hard to push. Finally, he stood. If she wanted his help or advice, she would ask. Besides, there’d been no crime or direct threat. “We’ll have this hat tested, see if there’s any of Andrea’s DNA on it. How’s that?”
She rubbed her hands on her dress, looking ill at ease. “Before you go, there’s more.”
He remained where he was, more curious than ever. “Okay.”
Her face grew even paler. She didn’t say anything for a moment, and instead just sat there looking incredibly uncomfortable. She didn’t want to say whatever it was, yet she seemed to feel obligated, he realized.
Finally she drew in a shaky breath. “I got a text message yesterday. It said: ‘Do you want to walk through the woods?’”
“I’m not sure I’m following.”
“That was what Andrea asked me on the day she disappeared. No one else besides Andrea would know that. It was never important to the investigation. I never told the police or anyone, for that matter. But I’ve never forgotten that conversation with Andrea. It’s burned into my mind.”
He sat down again, trying to let what she’d said sink in. “So, you think Andrea texted you and then left her hat at the door?”
She rubbed her hands on her dress again. “I know it sounds crazy. I don’t really have any idea what’s going on. I’m just reporting what happened.”
“Has there been any other contact through the years?”
“No, not really.” She looked at him again, her big eyes almost childlike in their innocence. “Look, I know how this looks. I come back into town, and all of this starts happening. Believe me, the last thing I want is to draw attention to myself. People already hate me enough without all this stuff coming to the surface again. I just wanted to be unseen while I was here.”
The weight of what she said pressed on his shoulders. It must be a terrible burden to carry. No wonder she acted like a nervous wreck. Being back here must be painful and intimidating at the same time. So why had she come?
That was a question for another time.
“Can I see your cell?” he asked.
She nodded, reached into her purse, and pulled out her phone. She hit a few buttons before handing him the device. “That’s the text.”
He read the words there, and the message was just like she’d said. Do you want to walk through the woods? Alone, the message might sound creepy. In context, the words were chilling.
Was someone trying to scare her? But it was like Charity said: Who would have known about their conversation besides Andrea?
Unless Andrea had told someone el
se. Her abductor, maybe?
The theories raced around in his mind, but without more research and investigating, nothing would really make sense.
He didn’t know what to make of everything Charity had told him. But he’d do his best to investigate this with an open mind. For Charity’s sake, as well as the rest of the town’s.
***
As soon as Joshua was gone, a sense of loneliness gripped Charity. It had felt good to talk to someone about what she’d discovered.
Charity closed her eyes, and visions of the hat filled her mind. What happened today would haunt her for a long time. Just as what had happened ten years ago still haunted her, like a ghost that wouldn’t leave her side.
As the day began flashing back in her mind, the phone rang, effectively saving her from reliving that awful day. Her heart skipped a beat, but when she looked at the number, her panic subsided. It was her best friend from Tennessee.
“Hey, Lucy.” Charity leaned back into the couch, trying to stay cool, both physically and mentally. She didn’t want her friend to know just how hard all of this had been. Lucy worried about her coming back here enough already. Her friend had seen the effects of her childhood on her adult life. That was the problem with having friends who were also counselors: they could see past the facades and lies.
“Charity! I haven’t heard from you, and I was starting to get worried.” Her friend’s warm voice always made her feel better.
“It’s been crazy since I’ve been here. I’ve thought many times about packing up and going back to Tennessee.” Take today for example . . .
“You’re always welcome to do that. It’s not the same around here without you.”
Charity’s heart longed to be back there, but she knew she couldn’t do that. Not yet. “I can’t even describe the internal urging I had to come back here to North Carolina. I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move on until I have peace with my past.”
Lucy’s voice changed from lighthearted to dead serious. “You making out okay?”
Everything that had happened raced through her mind. Charity shut her eyes, wishing it was that easy to shut out her memories. “I want to say yes, but . . .”
“What’s going on?” Concern and compassion etched her friend’s voice.
She told Lucy everything. There were few people she could talk to like Lucy. They’d met right after college when they both began to work as victim advocates. Their friendship had been slow to develop, but it had lasted through the years.
“Sounds scary, Charity. Even more reason for you to come back. Sometimes confronting our pasts isn’t the answer. Sometimes we just have to accept them and move on.” Her words sounded like the counselor she was: always perfectly measured and well thought out.
“I don’t know, Lucy.” Charity absently twirled a piece of her hair, her mind still racing. “Why is all of this happening now that I’m back? It can’t be a coincidence.”
“It’s almost like someone was just waiting for you to return.”
Charity shuddered at the thought. The idea had lingered in the back of her mind also, but she hadn’t dared voice it aloud. The notion seemed too crazy. Even more than that, it seemed frightfully scary, like something from her nightmares.
“I just don’t know what any of this proves,” Charity said, trying to sound logical. “Did the person who snatched Andrea wait for ten years to bring the case back into the spotlight? Why didn’t he just track me down in Tennessee and terrorize me there? Nothing makes sense.”
“I don’t know what to tell you except be careful. Is there anyone there who can watch out for you? If there is some kind of psycho out there, I’d hate for you to be alone. Someone needs to keep an eye on you.”
Charity frowned. “No, there’s no one. Not anymore.”
“You haven’t talked to anyone since you got back, you mean? What would you tell one of the clients on your caseload if she was in your shoes?”
“I’d tell her it was important to have people in her life she could depend on.” Charity sighed as Joshua’s face flashed through her mind. “I have made contact with a police officer, who just happens to be my neighbor. We’ve run into each other several times.”
“Well, at least you’ve interacted with one other person while you’re there. Don’t be a hermit. Remember, there comes a time when we all need other people. Sometimes our survival depends on it.”
Lucy knew her all too well. Charity had a tendency to draw into herself and become secluded from other people. It was a by-product of everything that had happened in her life. Her trust in other people had been shattered. It took her a long time to allow herself to open up to anyone now.
“Girl, as much as I’d like to talk more, I have to run. I have a counseling session coming up,” Lucy said. “But I will be calling often to check on you. Maybe I am a mother hen, but I won’t sleep at night if I’m wondering if you’re okay.”
After they hung up, Charity paced over to the back door and stepped outside onto the deck, hoping some fresh air might calm her down. The old wooden structure was dilapidated and green, and the land stretching behind it was a tangled mess. Random trees—oak, pine, and apple—were scattered here and there, surrounded by both patches of dirt and layers of weeds.
An old swing was almost impossible to see through the unkempt nature between the house and the woods that started about an acre beyond that. There was also a shed that had been painted a lovely shade of red at one time. She and Andrea had taken to fixing it up once for a summer project. Today, the paint was peeling and faded, a grim reminder of the fact that time could heal or it could bring further destruction.
This piece of property really could be lovely with some TLC. So many people craved this kind of peace and solitude.
If only Charity didn’t have so many bad memories here.
Charity’s gaze traveled to the woods at the back of the property.
What she saw there between the trees stopped her cold.
Someone stood at the edge of the woods.
Andrea.
CHAPTER 4
Charity blinked, certain her eyes were deceiving her.
That couldn’t be Andrea.
Yet her friend stood there, by a tree, staring right at her. She was taller now and just as slender as ever. Her hair was longer, and she wore jeans and a plaid shirt. Her hands were tucked into her pockets, and a blank expression remained on her face.
“Andrea,” she whispered. Charity took a step closer, her knees close to buckling.
It couldn’t be . . .
But . . . that really was her. It was Andrea.
She was alive. She was okay. She was here!
Charity’s heart leaped with joy, with surprise, with relief.
How could this be? After all these years? Andrea was here now.
Charity took another tentative step forward.
Andrea continued standing at the edge of the woods staring at her. Was she silently asking Charity to come? Why wasn’t her friend making an effort to approach her, to come any closer herself? Why was she here now after ten years?
Charity didn’t care. She had to talk to her friend, to know for sure that she was okay. She’d dreamed about something like this happening, but it didn’t seem possible.
Her mind swirled as she started across the grass, her steps quickening.
When Charity was halfway across the yard, Andrea moved for the first time. At first, she shifted. The action was so subtle that Charity almost thought she’d imagined it. But then, in the next second, her friend darted into the woods as if running for her life.
Charity started to rush toward her, to try and catch her before she got away. But just as Charity reached the edge of the woods, she stopped.
Panic kicked in. Her heart raced. Her throat tightened. Her lungs squeezed.
She couldn’t go into those woods. She couldn’t go back to the place where Andrea had been lost.
But now her friend had been l
ost again to those very woods.
Tears rushed to Charity’s eyes. What was she supposed to do? Why had her friend run? What was going on?
She hated herself for doing it, but she took a step back. Then another. And another.
Finally, her heels hit the last step of the deck. She fell backward, cascading into the wood planks behind her.
Then she began sobbing for everything she’d lost—then and now.
***
Joshua didn’t know what to make of the information Charity had shared with him about the text and the Eagleton hat. He turned it over in his mind as he drove back to the station. Was someone trying to shake Charity up by leaving a hat similar to Andrea’s on her porch? What effect would the perpetrator be shooting for—maybe trying to run Charity out of town? Or was there more going on here than met the eye?
By the time he reached the station, he had even more questions: How would someone have known about Andrea and Charity’s conversation? Was Charity really just back here to sell her mom’s old house, or was there more to the story? Why exactly did people feel so much animosity toward her?
She’d only been sixteen when the crime occurred. In some ways, she was just as much a victim as Andrea.
He nearly collided with the chief as he started toward his desk.
“Everything okay?” Chief Rollins asked, arching one of her thin eyebrows. “Did you just get back from talking to Ms. White?”
He nodded. “Yeah, something strange is going on.”
“Come on into my office and give me the rundown. I’m intrigued.”
He plopped down into the seat across from her, hoping that if he voiced some of his thoughts out loud, they’d start to make sense.
When Joshua finished sharing the facts of the case with her, Chief Rollins leaned back in her chair, laced her hands across her thin midsection, and grunted pensively. “Interesting that all of this is coming to light after so many years and right when Ms. Charity White comes into town.”
Something about the way she said the words got his attention—and not in a good way. “What are you implying?”
She shrugged. “I wonder if this Charity woman is trying to stir up trouble?”
Gone by Dark (Carolina Moon Book 2) Page 4