Can't Find My Way Home

by Carlene Thompson

  ‘Not at all,’ Garrett said too quickly.

  ‘Sheriff, some people have told me that Mark Wilder came to town last week. Is it true?’ she asked.

  Garrett glanced at Tessa, whose hands had begun to tremble. ‘He’s gone,’ Garrett said firmly. He wasn’t going to discuss an ongoing case with them. He also wasn’t going to make Tessa more anxious. ‘He left on Saturday.’

  ‘He did?’ Tessa asked in a small voice.

  ‘No one’s seen him since then. The motel manager last saw him Saturday evening. His motel room hadn’t been used Saturday night. I guess he didn’t feel welcome here.’

  Tessa looked at Garrett doubtfully. ‘You’re sure he’s gone?’

  ‘I’ve looked for him,’ he said truthfully. ‘I can’t find a trace.’ Except for his car with bloodstains inside, Garrett thought, and I’m sure as hell not going to talk about that.

  ‘But Brynn’s here.’ Tessa wasn’t going to let the subject go. ‘Don’t you think she came with her brother or maybe to meet him?’

  ‘I know she didn’t come with her brother. Cassie Hutton’s been her friend all these years and she wanted Brynn to come to the festival. Brynn is staying with Cassie.’ He paused. ‘Mark left before Brynn even got here.’

  ‘Oh,’ Tessa murmured. Then she surprised him. ‘Do you know I used to have a crush on Mark?’

  ‘Uh … you did?’ Garrett was flummoxed. She was talking about once having a crush on a guy who now terrified her.

  ‘Yes. I think I made a fool of myself. I never knew how to act like the other girls – pretty, feminine girls.’

  ‘You were just young, Tessa,’ Garrett answered off-handedly. ‘All girls go through an awkward stage.’

  ‘Not Savannah.’

  ‘Oh, yes. She just never shows it in public.’ He winked at Tessa. ‘Very aware of her image and all that. But she’s not what she calls one of the “cool girls.”’ He paused. ‘I think she’d like to be Taylor Swift.’

  Tessa smiled at Garrett. He caught Nathan’s sharp, knowing glance that said he realized how uncomfortable Mark Wilder’s visit to Genessa Point made his sister and he was grateful for Garrett turning the subject light. Garrett focused on Tessa.’ ‘The festival’s bigger than ever this year. We’re having a carnival, fireworks displays over the bay every night, boat rides on the bay, an outdoor play—’

  ‘Tessa wrote the play and is directing it,’ Nathan interrupted with pride.

  ‘Oh, I know all about the play. Savannah’s in it. She’s rehearsed so much you’d think she was making her debut on Broadway.’ Garrett looked at the faded woman sitting on the grass like a little girl. ‘Tessa, you’ve been busy! Writing and directing.’ Garrett hoped he didn’t sound too amazed that reclusive Tessa Cavanaugh was so involved in the play. ‘I had no idea you were so talented,’ he added heartily, wishing he could shut up.

  Tessa didn’t seem to notice, though. ‘I have been busy. At least, busy in a different way than usual,’ she said diffidently. ‘I’ve always tended to all my outdoor flower gardens. Father loved my flower gardens.’

  Nathan gave her a disbelieving look before he said, ‘He griped about you always “messing with those damned flowers” as he put it. Remember that year he dug up all those pansies you’d planted and threw them all over the yard? You were so upset.’

  ‘Nathan, please!’ Tessa’s cheeks turned red as she looked at Garrett. ‘That was just two years ago. Father wasn’t well and resented the world for his illness,’ she said regretfully. ‘Also, he was annoyed with me about something – I don’t recall what it was now.’

  ‘So he tore up your pansies?’ Garrett asked. ‘Did you plant new ones?’

  ‘They were petunias and no, I didn’t plant anything in that garden. Nothing would have grown.’

  ‘Why not?’ Garrett asked.

  Tessa shrugged. ‘Because it was a graveyard.’ She looked at Garrett again. ‘Some people think I’m strange, but I know flowers have feelings. If I’d planted new ones, the sadness of that garden would have caused their death.’

  They’re right – you are strange, Garrett thought, but gave her a smile. ‘Maybe so.’

  ‘That was an unfortunate incident I don’t like to remember. It certainly wasn’t Father at his best,’ Tessa said gently. ‘In earlier years, he was always proud of how I maintained all of our home’s gardens and grounds.’

  ‘We only have three acres, Tess, and a couple of buildings for yard equipment and your gardening stuff.’ Nathan suddenly sounded irritable. ‘It’s not an estate, for God’s sake, and we have people to do most of the lawn work. You only planted a few flower gardens.’

  Tessa’s gaze dropped. ‘Five, Nate. Five large gardens. Last year I won the Good Gardener Award from the Garden Club.’ Her voice dipped to a mournful whisper. ‘I was so pleased and proud. I’d never won anything in my whole life before then.’

  Garrett thought she was going to burst into tears. His spirits plummeted. God, all he’d wanted was a peaceful lunch. Was he going to end up with a sobbing Tessa Cavanaugh? Then Nathan looked at his stricken sister. A mixture of pity and frustration crossed his face and he managed to rescue the moment. ‘I just think it’s time for men to be bringing you flowers instead of you raising them, sis.’

  Tessa sniffed, her eyes still downcast.

  ‘Savannah and I walk Henry every evening. We usually go down Oriole Lane, but after you won that award, Savannah insisted we see your flower gardens,’ Garrett said.

  ‘You did?’ Tessa asked.

  ‘Sure. You live near us. It was a nice change from our usual walking route and the gardens were beautiful. Savannah was dazzled. Well, we both were.’

  ‘How about Henry?’ Nathan asked seriously.

  ‘He barked three times then howled,’ Garrett returned just as seriously.

  ‘Oh, you two,’ Tessa said, finally almost smiling.

  ‘I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings about the flowers,’ Nathan said to Tessa, then looked at Garrett. ‘I have to leave next week and I’m taking Tessa with me. We’re going to Casablanca, Morocco.’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ Tessa uttered, as if afraid.

  ‘You haven’t been away from this town for so long, you’ve dug in roots deeper than your cherry trees,’ Nathan went on, undaunted. ‘But just wait until you see a completely different part of the world.’ Once again he looked at Garrett. ‘And she’s not just going for her two-week summer vacation. She’s taking a leave of absence from the library. We’re not sure for how long, yet, but I’m not going to let her leave Genessa Point just to come running back in fourteen days or less. After Casablanca, we’ll travel for a few weeks and have some fun.’ He leaned down and tilted his head at his sister, giving her that movie-star smile. ‘You promised me, didn’t you?’

  ‘Y-yes. It’s just that … well, it’s so far away and Dad hasn’t been gone for very long. There’s still estate business we must attend to and …’

  ‘And you’re just scared. I’m going to see that you have the best time of your life, though, Tess.’ Nathan nearly glowed as he talked to her. ‘Honest, cross my heart, Scout’s honor—’

  ‘All right.’ Tessa finally giggled like a little girl. ‘We’ll go and I’ll have a wonderful time!’

  ‘You sure will because I make every day a joy, Tess,’ Nathan joked. ‘You know I do. Garrett knows, too, from the old days when we were lighthearted teenage boys.’

  Garrett said dryly, ‘Yeah, sure. In the old days, we both caused trouble and I always got the blame.’

  ‘We weren’t the only troublemakers.’ Nathan grinned. ‘Mark Wilder was the worst,’ he said, then looked as if he could bite his tongue.

  The levity of the moment died again when Tessa quickly asked, ‘What did Mark do?’

  ‘Oh, just his fair share of troublemaking,’ Nathan answered with false easiness.

  Tessa seemed to know her brother too well. ‘You might as well tell me. I’ll keep pestering you until you do.’

 
Nathan sighed. ‘I guess letting Garrett take the blame for something fairly bad that he did was the worst.’ Tessa raised a pale eyebrow and Nathan went on. ‘Mark got a mannequin from the store where his mother worked and threw it on the highway late one night. A car ran over it and slammed to a halt. The wife and one of the kids in the car were hurt pretty bad. Anyway, Mark told Sheriff Dane that Garrett threw the mannequin on the highway and the sheriff gave Garrett worse than hell for it.’

  ‘My goodness, how awful!’ Tessa exclaimed.

  Scalding fury flashed through Garrett at the memory of his father’s belt hitting him until it drew blood. It hadn’t been the first time that belt had struck him – only one of many times – but it had been the worst. His back and legs had hurt so badly he couldn’t walk normally for over a week. After all these years, though, he was able to keep his outward expression benign no matter how vividly he remembered the pain.

  ‘You must have resented Mark so much!’ Tessa said, looking at Garrett with deep understanding.

  ‘Oh, I was mad back then, but it was nearly a lifetime ago. Besides, Mark was a year younger than me and terrified,’ Garrett said calmly. ‘I didn’t suffer any permanent damage, so it’s all water under the bridge.’

  ‘But what he did later … what people said he did, helping his father murder those kids. How did you feel then?’

  Garrett paused. ‘I don’t remember how I felt except that maybe he was being blamed for something he didn’t do.’

  ‘You don’t think he was his father’s accomplice?’ Tessa asked in surprise.

  ‘The police never found any evidence that he was, which doesn’t mean it didn’t exist.’ He could feel himself beginning to sweat. ‘It’s a beautiful day. Let’s appreciate it and not talk about the past.’ He flashed a smile at Tessa. ‘Hey, do you happen to have an extra Twinkie for a hungry sheriff in that bag?’

  NINE

  Brynn waited a few minutes after Rhonda left Cassie’s office before she walked out of the store at a leisurely pace. Brynn didn’t want any of the other saleswomen to tell Rhonda that she’d seemed flustered or upset. Nevertheless, she merely gave Cassie a casual wave, which looked natural considering that Cassie was helping a customer.

  Once in the car, though, Brynn sat drawing deep breaths until her heart slowed. That insufferable bitch! How could Garrett have been her boyfriend? No, correct that. ‘Lover,’ she’d said aloud. Who referred to someone as their lover? Someone wanting to make a point. Someone who didn’t know that Savannah had already confided that her dad no longer wanted Rhonda’s company. Not that I care, of course, Brynn reminded herself. She didn’t care how many girlfriends Garrett had. It was only the term lover that had—

  That had what? Annoyed her? Embarrassed her?

  Made her jealous?

  Brynn felt color rush to her cheeks. Jealous! Jealous of a boy she’d found mildly intriguing when she was twelve? Jealous over a man she wasn’t even sure she liked? How ridiculous!

  She threw the car into reverse and zoomed out of her parking space, narrowly missing a passing car. The other driver hit the horn, glaring at her. I deserved that, Brynn thought, glad she was wearing her sunglasses. She took two more deep breaths and crept from the parking lot, a model of careful driving.

  Back on the highway, Brynn couldn’t decide where to go next. She berated herself for not having a plan, then eased up. How could she have a plan of action when she had no idea where to look for Mark? She didn’t even know exactly where his car had been found other than behind a cluster of trees about ten miles south of town. About ten miles. And how far off the road? Why hadn’t she asked Garrett for more details when she’d been at headquarters this morning? Because she’d been too busy ranting about her mother’s compact being left on Cassie’s porch. And after that scene, she certainly couldn’t return to Garrett’s office now.

  Disheartened, Brynn turned on the CD player and the car filled with the discordant sounds of a jazz number. Jazz? Cassie hated jazz. Then Brynn remembered – this had been Ray’s car that he’d lost in the divorce. Brynn quickly turned off the music. She didn’t like most jazz any better than Cassie did. Besides, it reminded her of Ray O’Hara, whom she also didn’t like. What had Cassie ever seen in him besides his good looks?

  Over Fifty Years of Service

  Fenney Realty

  The billboard words stood out in bold red against the blues, greens, tans and yellows of the Chesapeake Bay. Beneath them in slightly smaller letters was the address of the company and beside them beamed the face of Sam Fenney as it must have been at least fifteen years ago. In his dreams. Brynn couldn’t help laughing. Who would have thought Sam Fenney would stoop to photoshopping? But the sign had been exactly that – a sign of what she needed to do next.

  Twenty minutes later, Brynn parked, fed the meter and began walking. The sun felt softly warm on her neck exposed by the heavy hair she’d pulled up in a ponytail. She liked the rustic look of the new brick sidewalks and tree borders, and the old-fashioned globe street lights that gave this section the look of a quaint, picture postcard town. If Genessa Point had no history for her, she would like it, she mused. She would find it picturesque, the atmosphere slow and peaceful. Experience had taught her, though, that Genessa Point was not peaceful. Brick sidewalks and old-fashioned lampposts could not hide the ugliness bubbling beneath the pretty surface.

  Brynn was so lost in thought she almost walked past Fenney Realty. She backed up two steps and entered a cool room decorated in tones of lime green and beige. A pretty young blonde sat behind a large desk scattered with at least a dozen folders and a flourishing philodendron. ‘Hi!’ Bright tone, and an even brighter smile accented with sheer red lip gloss. ‘Can I help you on this beautiful day?’

  ‘I hope so. I’m Brynn Wilder and—’

  ‘Oh! Brynn Wilder!’ Her lovely blue eyes lit up. ‘I heard you were in town. I read your books. I helped my niece do a report on you. What an honor!’

  ‘Thank you,’ Brynn said, slightly embarrassed by the gushing, although the waiting room was empty. ‘I hope the teacher liked your niece’s report.’

  ‘Oh, yes! She got an A!’ By now the young woman had risen and was partially leaning across the desk to shake hands. ‘Could I get your autograph? Oh, that would just make my niece’s whole year!’

  ‘Lexa, what’s all the fuss out here?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Mr Fenney but Brynn Wilder is here! She’s an author! Her books are published all over the world—’

  ‘I know who Brynn is.’ Brynn turned to see Sam smiling. ‘I’ve known Brynn most of her life. Do you think we could get Miss Wilder some coffee or a soft drink?’

  ‘Oh, sure. I didn’t even think to ask. Miss Wilder?’

  ‘Call me Brynn, and I’d like some black coffee.’

  ‘I’m with a client right now,’ Sam told her as Lexa hurried to the coffee maker, ‘but we should be finished very soon. Mind waiting?’

  ‘Not at all. I’ll stay with Lexa until you’re finished.’

  Lexa returned, beaming. ‘It’s a good thing I put on a fresh pot of coffee ten minutes ago. Is it all right?’

  Brynn took a sip. ‘Perfect.’

  She and Lexa were laughing over some of the off-the-wall comments people wrote to Brynn about her books when Sam ushered out Edmund Ellis. Brynn’s eyes widened in surprise but Sam had obviously told Edmund that Brynn was in the waiting room.

  ‘Hello, Brynn,’ he said easily with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He looked slightly wary. ‘Stopping in to see Sam for a tour of your old house?’

  ‘I’ve heard it’s on the market again but I don’t have any particular desire to see it. How about you?’

  Edmund flushed. ‘Do I want to see it? No. I’m here on business. I’ve decided to sell my house.’

  ‘Really?’ Brynn was surprised. ‘But it’s been in your family for what – two generations?’

  ‘My grandfather built it back in the twenties.’ Some of the guardednes
s left Edmund’s tired eyes. ‘Frankly, I’ve never really liked it. He’s probably turning over in his grave right now, but it’s the truth. Aside from not liking it, my wife died in it three years ago and my darling Joy less than two weeks ago and—’ His voice thickened. ‘I’ve been offered a partnership with an old friend who’s opening a clinic in San Francisco and I think it’s the perfect opportunity for me to move on. I need a complete change of scene.’

  Although Brynn had harbored a resentment of Edmund for eighteen years, her throat tightened. This man had been her father’s best friend. Long ago, the families had enjoyed picnics together and occasional birthday dinners. They’d been fun, Edmund usually the life and soul of the party, his wife amusing and pleasantly gregarious until the stillbirth of their second child had turned her somber and remote.

  ‘This town will miss you,’ Brynn said quietly.

  ‘Maybe. I hope I touched a few lives for the good.’ He gave her another one of his empty smiles. ‘I wish you all the best, Brynn. You and Mark.’

  Then he was out the door.

  A few minutes later in Sam’s office, she said, ‘I can’t believe he’s selling his house.’

  ‘It’s just a house now that he has no family. An empty house. It won’t be easy to get rid of – it’s big and dated – but the market’s picking up. Besides, I don’t think Edmund is in immediate need of money.’ He gave her a warm look. ‘What can I do for you, Brynn?’

  ‘Maybe the same thing Mark asked you to do. Give me information about our old house.’

  Sam’s smile faded as he walked behind his desk and sat down. ‘I’ve told you it’s for sale. Been sitting empty for six months. Mark wanted a tour of the inside. Do you want to see it?’