Secrets We Keep

by Barbara Freethy

  "Then how do you explain Tommy's body ending up in the wall of the garage?"

  "I don't know. Maybe one of the other kids did it, or Dad's brother, Evan. He was hanging around that spring. I never liked him, and I don't think he liked Tommy, either."

  "None of the kids could have done it. For one thing, they couldn't have gotten into the garage without Donald knowing, and planting a dead body there—no way. Donald had to have known."

  "Maybe he was protecting his brother. But I am sure that Geralyn didn't know anything about it. She's a kind, gentle person."

  "Oh, come on, David. She might have been that way to you, but she certainly wasn't that way to me or to the others."

  "I know she was nicer to me than to you, but I was there the longest. It made sense."

  "Have you seen Geralyn?"

  "I tried. The doctor wouldn't let me in. He said the only people getting in would be the police, when she was ready, but I could see her through the glass in the door, and she was just staring into space, like she wasn't even there. Her skin was white. It felt like she was a ghost."

  "She's faking it, David. She doesn't want to talk to the cops."

  "There's no way she's faking it. You didn't see her. I think she had a breakdown when they told her about Tommy."

  "Because she knows someone in her family, if not her, killed Tommy."

  "I really don't want to believe it was Donald."

  "He's the most likely suspect. And it's not like he didn't make other kids disappear."

  David cleared his throat. "We don't need to talk about that again, do we?"

  "We both know you lied about Molly."

  "No one else but you and Tommy said you saw her there."

  "You saw her, too. And if you're going to stick to that old story, then we don't have anything to talk about. I don't even know why you called me."

  "Hang on. I don't agree with your feelings about Geralyn, but I think we both cared about Tommy. He was my friend, too. And he didn't deserve what happened to him."

  "Fine, you feel bad. What do you want from me?"

  "Maybe a little understanding. I'm worried. It feels like someone is out for revenge. The police said the fire was arson."

  "I can believe that any number of people would have wanted to burn that house down, but I don't get why you're worried." There was something in his words she didn't understand.

  "Five months ago, Dad—Donald, was killed in a car crash. He was driving down the coast highway, and his car just went off the road. It was raining that night, and everyone chalked it up to an accident, but now I'm not so sure."

  "Where on the coast did this happen?" she asked, her gut clenching at the thought of Donald having been so close to her home.

  "Just south of Pacifica."

  Pacifica was north of Half Moon Bay, but it still made her feel odd to know that Donald had been driving down the same highway she'd traveled a thousand times in the last ten years.

  "I'm concerned that the car accident and the fire are connected, that someone is out to hurt the Faulkners, and that I might be a target, too, because they adopted me."

  She was starting to see where he was coming from. "Now, I understand. How long did you live with the Faulkners after I left?"

  "I was there off and on through college. I got my own place after I graduated, when I was in my early twenties."

  "But you've kept in touch with them?"

  "They were the only family I had after my mom died; of course, I kept in touch."

  "When did you last see Geralyn?"

  "Three weeks ago. I've been out of town on business. Before that, I was seeing her fairly often. She's been devastated since Dad died. Her sister came to stay with her for a while. Evan has been around, too. We've all been worried about her very deep depression. We thought she might be suicidal, which is why I can totally believe that she had a nervous breakdown when the fire destroyed her house and the police told her about Tommy. She was already fragile."

  "Fragile?" That word didn't describe the woman she remembered at all. "Geralyn has never been a victim, David. Don't try to turn her into one."

  "You don't know the woman she is now."

  "Well, I knew the woman she used to be, and she was not warm and loving. She was cold and distant. She and Donald took in kids for cash. They didn't care about us."

  "That's not true."

  "Well, maybe they cared about you, but they certainly didn't care about me. Geralyn lied about Molly's disappearance. She made the social worker think I was crazy. And God knows what Donald was doing out in that garage—what he—or they did to Molly."

  "I don't want to talk about her."

  "So, now you acknowledge that she existed?"

  "I want to concentrate on what's happening now. We need to figure out who set the fire, who might have killed Donald if it wasn't an accident, and what happened to Tommy."

  "But Molly could be part of it." A sudden thought occurred to her. "Maybe she set the fire. Maybe she didn't die. She could have run away. She could have come back and torched the house."

  "Or you could have done the same thing. Your hatred for the Faulkners was well-documented, and it's obvious you feel the same way now."

  "Is that why you called me—to see if I'd confess?"

  "No. I called you because you were Tommy's best friend in the world, and aside from everything else, the kid deserves a memorial service."

  She hadn't even thought about that, and another wave of guilt ran through her. "You're right. Tommy does deserve a funeral."

  "We should do something."

  "I can take care of it."

  "You weren't the only one who cared about him, Cassidy."

  "If you cared about him, why didn't you try to find him?"

  "Because I thought the two of you were together. All this time, I thought you and Tommy were just living your lives. I thought you were both happy. Anyway, we might be on different sides when it comes to Geralyn, but this isn't about her. Can we meet later today?"

  "Meet?" she stuttered, surprised by the request. Their conversation hadn't been great so far and he wanted to keep it going? "Why?"

  "To make plans. To talk things through. There are not many people in my life I can talk to about any of this, and I'm betting you feel the same. I'll be at Jack's in the Marina at five thirty tonight. Come by. Have a drink."

  "Can we talk about Molly?"

  "We can talk about whatever you want."

  "I'll think about it." She ended the call on that note, feeling even more unsettled by their conversation.

  David thought someone was out to get revenge, and if he was right, he might be the next target. But it wasn't up to her to protect him, or even to try to help him get through anything. He had never been that nice to her. They had never been friends. Even now, he couldn't admit that Molly had lived in the house. Despite what he'd just said, she doubted he would talk about Molly if she went to the bar, so why go?

  She did want to do something for Tommy, but she didn't need David's help to do that, although it was nice of him to offer. Maybe he wasn't a horrible person. Could she really blame him for being the Faulkners' favorite kid? David probably had the most information about the Faulkners. If they kept talking, he might inadvertently reveal something.

  Was it worth the risk?

  David might be trying to lure her out of the shadows, so he could pin everything on her.

  Tapping her fingers restlessly on the table, she thought about calling Hunter. He wanted to work with her. He wanted to be partners. She'd tentatively said yes the day before, but she'd certainly had second thoughts since then.

  Picking up her phone, she opened a text, then hesitated. How many mistakes was she going to make when it came to Hunter?

  She'd already hurt him once, entangled him in her problems. Even though he felt a duty to get justice for Tommy, wouldn't it be better for Hunter if he went on with his life and didn't get sucked into the darkness that surrounded the Faulkners and her?r />
  Nine

  His parents' house was filled to the rafters with Callaways. It took Hunter almost an hour to make his way through the living room as he stopped to chat with his Uncle Jack and Aunt Lynda, his cousin Nicole and her husband, Ryan, and their two kids Brandon and Amanda. He was happy to get a small smile out of Brandon whose communication skills and behavioral problems had definitely improved since he'd been reunited with his twin brother Kyle.

  He also spent a few minutes with Aiden and Sara, marveling at how their two kids were now active toddlers, and how happy the two of them were. Their love story had started when they were kids, growing up next door to each other, although they both said it had been more of a hate story back then and the love had taken a long time to come. They'd had to grow up before they could see what they had.

  He wondered if that could possibly be true for him and Cassidy. Although, they had the reverse story: love first—then hate. Not that he really hated her anymore. Truth be told, he didn't know how he felt.

  Making his way into the combined family room and kitchen, he saw his grandmother Eleanor sitting on the couch with his brother Ian and Ian's wife Grace. Eleanor suffered from Alzheimer's but seemed to be alert today as she listened to Grace, although he wondered if she really had any idea who Grace was. There were so many people in the room, his head was spinning.

  Squeezing past his cousin Sean and Sean's wife, Jessica, with a friendly nod, he grabbed a beer out of the fridge. When he turned around, the guest of honor, his sister Annie, gave him a smile.

  "It's about time you got here, Hunter."

  "I've been here for an hour. It took me that long to get through the house." Looking at his sister he saw nothing but pure joy on her face. Annie was glowing with love.

  "I know. It's crazy in here." She laughed as she jumped out of the way to avoid being run over by four-year-old Chloe, Aiden's daughter, who was chasing the family dog. "Mom said only family, but surely we must have half the neighborhood in here."

  "This is all family, and we're all here for you."

  "I told Mom not to make a big deal. We're going to see each other for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding next weekend."

  "She takes any opportunity she can get to bring the family together." He pulled off the top of his beer and took a swig. "Where's Griffin?"

  "He's coming up on Tuesday. He wanted me to have time on my own with my family and friends. Plus, the bar is super busy these days. Since he reopened the Depot, it has been packed every night."

  "I suspect you've had a hand in that, or have you been too busy developing your action movie?"

  "I've been busy with it all," she said, delight in her eyes. "So much has changed in the last six months; sometimes I have to pinch myself to believe it's all real."

  "It's real. Just look around."

  She laughed. "Last year, I was feeling lonely and restless and not sure what I wanted to do, where I wanted to live, and then I decided to go into the ocean and face an old fear, and I met Griffin. He saved my life, literally and figuratively."

  "I still can't believe you got into the water, much less got attacked by a shark. You do attract trouble, Annie."

  "I don't always have the best luck, but that shark brought Griffin into my life, so I can't complain. He didn't like me at all at first, but I slowly worked my way into his heart."

  "You're a force of nature."

  "Just like you. How does it feel to be back fighting fire?"

  "My first shift was fairly eventful, so I can't answer that question yet."

  "I heard. Do you want to talk about it?"

  "I really don't."

  "Can we talk about Cassidy then?"

  He groaned. "Dylan told you about Cassidy?"

  "Well, actually, Mom did. Any lingering sparks from the old days?"

  "There's too much going on to think about sparks."

  "You don't think about sparks; they're just there. And I remember Cassidy. I saw how looney tunes you were about her. And then after she left, you got crazy and did all kinds of stupid stuff."

  He put up a warning hand. "We don't need to rehash any of that."

  "Well, just be careful. First loves are hard to shake off."

  "Are you two talking about Cassidy?" Emma asked, as she joined them, her blue eyes as inquisitive as ever.

  "I'm glad you're here, Emma. Is Max with you?" he asked, avoiding her question.

  "No, Max is working the case. He's interviewing kids from the foster home and still hoping to speak with Mrs. Faulkner at some point. By the way, I got an interesting call this morning from someone I have not talked to in a very long time."

  "Who's that?"

  "Lindsay Grayson. I didn't realize she lived next door to the Faulkners."

  "And she just called you out of the blue?"

  "So she could ask me for your number. Apparently, you spoke to her mom yesterday. She wants to catch up with you. I didn't want to just hand out your number, so I got hers." Emma reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "It's up to you if you want to call her back. I tried to find out if she knew anything relevant to the fire, but she said she spends little time in that neighborhood and hasn't spoken to anyone at the Faulkner house in years."

  Knowing that Lindsay probably had no information to give, he really didn't want to talk to her. They hadn't parted on the best of terms. Lindsay had always wanted more from him than he had to give. Although, she might know something about Tommy's murder that she didn't realize she knew. She had lived next door to the Faulkners until she went to college. She might even remember Molly, which would certainly make Cassidy happy. Not that he needed to be thinking about making her happy.

  In fact, he suspected that calling Lindsay would make Cassidy quite unhappy. He smiled to himself, remembering how jealous she'd looked when she'd discovered that he'd gone out with Lindsay. Her reaction had been like a salve to his wounded heart. But it had probably just been a momentary reaction. She couldn't possibly care that much. She'd obviously put him out of her mind all these years.

  Although, those kisses they'd shared in the car yesterday had showed the attraction between them was still very strong. But even so, he shouldn't go down that road again.

  "Hunter?"

  He realized both Emma and Annie were staring at him with speculative expressions. "Thanks for this." He shoved the paper into his pocket. "I'll let you guys talk about your trip." Moving away from Annie and Emma, he spotted Kate coming through the kitchen door and immediately cut her off. "Hey," he said, giving her a hug.

  "Hey yourself. How are you?"

  "I'm great and not interested in talking about Cassidy," he said preemptively.

  Kate laughed. "I swear that was not going to be the first thing I asked—maybe the second."

  "Where's your better half?"

  "Devin is in DC. He'll fly out on Thursday for all the wedding hoopla."

  "Are you sorry you didn't have any of this hoopla?"

  "Not even for a second. I just don't go crazy over wedding stuff, but I am thrilled to help Annie do her thing."

  "I get it. Listen, I need a favor."

  "That sounds intriguing."

  He pulled her into the hallway where they could get a little privacy. "I know you've heard about the body I found."

  "Yes. I'm really sorry you had to discover that."

  "Well, the police are looking into the boy's murder, and Emma's team is working on the arson, but I'm also interested in the disappearance of another girl at that foster home. Cassidy swears a girl named Molly went missing years ago, but everyone claimed that the girl didn't exist, and that Cassidy made her up."

  "How does an entire family agree on the non-existence of an individual while your ex-girlfriend does not?" Kate asked suspiciously.

  "That's a good question, but what I'd like your help on is tracking down this girl. Her name is Molly Bennett. She has black hair, brown eyes, might be of Native American heritage, and was fourteen years old when she dis
appeared fourteen years ago. Cassidy said she was at the Faulkners for about three weeks, but social services had no record of her ever being there."

  Kate's expression turned serious. "I'm happy to use my resources to look into this, but I might need more to go on, like where she was born, parents' names, and schools she attended."

  "I'll talk to Cassidy and see what else I can find out."

  "The two of you are friends now?"

  "I don't know what we are, but I do want to know what happened to the kid who died and also to this girl."

  "Well, we're leaving for Napa in a few hours, but text me whatever you can get from Cassidy, and I will have a friend of mine start working on it while I'm away, and then as soon as I get back, I'll jump on it, too."

  "I really appreciate it."

  She shrugged. "I'm happy to help. I just hope you know what you're doing, Hunter."

  "I know what I'm doing. I've been taking care of myself for a long time. Everyone in this family needs to chill."

  "That would be easier if you were a bit more open. You got hurt in that fire and then you went on the road. It just feels like something is off with you. You haven't been yourself for a long time."

  "And I'm working some things out, so give me some space. It's not like you tell us everything you do. In fact, you rarely tell us anything."

  "Point taken."

  "It's up to me to figure out my own life."

  "Will that life include Cassidy?"

  He didn't answer her question, distracted by the buzzing of his phone. His pulse jumped at the message from Cassidy. Can we talk today? Call me or come by my job site. Here's the address.

  "Hunter? Earth to Hunter?"

  He looked up at Kate. "What?"

  "It's her, isn't it? It's Cassidy." She gave him a knowing smile. "You have the same look on your face now you had in high school."

  "It is from Cassidy, and I have to go. Have fun on your trip. I'll catch up with you when you're back. And if your friend finds anything out before then—"

  "I'll let you know. Be careful."

  He gave a careless shrug. "Not really in my nature."

  "I know. That's why I said it."