Broken Places
Page 29
“We found Karen’s jewelry with Meredith’s things at the McClure place,” Tom said. “What did you do with her other belongings? Her laptop, her luggage?”
“Threw them in the river.”
“And after that you decided to get rid of the witnesses? Rachel Goddard, Holly Turner, Lloyd Wilson.”
“I had to try. They saw me. They could put me at both places. I couldn’t understand why you kept waiting to arrest me. I figured if they weren’t around to testify—I was just trying to protect myself. You can’t tell me you don’t understand that. Anybody would do the same thing, wouldn’t they?”
Tom didn’t trust himself to attempt an answer.
***
Tom hurtled down the farm road in the dusk of early evening, mentally rehearsing his speech to Rachel. This would be the first time they’d had a chance to talk privately since he’d found her at the McClure house.
I love you, he’d say. I want a life with you, and I hope that’s what you want too. But we have to be honest with each other. If you don’t trust me enough to—
He passed the stable and Rachel’s cottage came into view. Oh, Christ. Ben Hern’s black Jaguar sat in Rachel’s driveway.
Tom slammed on the brakes and idled in the road, debating whether to turn around and leave. Hern was probably having dinner with Rachel and Holly. He might be planning to stay for hours. Tom would be an intruder, unwelcome.
But no, he wouldn’t leave. He was here because he loved Rachel and he wasn’t going to stand by and let her walk out of his life without trying to win her trust. And if being with her meant accepting Ben Hern as her friend, so be it. He might have to go out of his way to overcome Hern’s resentment—being accused of murder was hard for most people to forgive—but he would make the effort. Hell, they might end up liking each other. Maybe they could play basketball together. Go fishing.
Yeah, right. Maybe he’d get lucky and Hern would go back where he came from.
He parked his Sheriff’s Department car on the road in front of the cottage instead of pulling into the driveway. Wouldn’t want to block Hern in and keep him from leaving.
From the passenger seat he grabbed a paper bag containing some things he’d brought for Rachel. As he climbed out, Hern emerged from the house with Rachel behind him. They spotted Tom and stood on the porch watching him approach.
Rachel was a slender silhouette with light spilling across her back from the open front door, her face in shadow. Tom couldn’t tell whether she welcomed or dreaded his presence.
Hern surprised him by sticking out a hand as Tom mounted the steps. “Tom,” Hern said. “Good to see you.”
First names, huh? Okay. “Ben.” Tom shook his hand. “How are things going? I know it can’t be easy right now.”
Hern broke the contact, stuck both hands into his pants pockets. “I’m leaving for New Jersey in the morning. That’s where most of my mother’s family is. We’re having a memorial service up there in a couple of days.”
Tom wanted to ask if Hern’s plans for the future included leaving Mason County permanently, but he kept silent.
“Are there any new developments you can tell us about?” Rachel asked. “Have you been able to question Ragsdale yet?”
“Yeah,” Tom said, glad to slip back into professional mode. “I can’t go into detail about it, but he intends to plead guilty.”
“That’s good to hear,” Hern said, nodding. He added with a little laugh, “I’d say the Taylors’ dog is the only one who’s profited from all this. She seems to like living with Joanna.”
“It’s Joanna’s dog she likes,” Rachel said. “I think Cricket and Nan have a best friends forever thing going on.”
“Yeah, that’s good,” Tom said. Was Hern ever going to leave and let him talk to Rachel?
A brief awkward silence followed. Then Hern said, “Well, I guess I’ll see you both when I get back.”
Rachel hadn’t yet looked directly at Tom. She stood with her arms folded, watching Hern leave, and Tom felt the way he always did when she withdrew into herself—shut out and frustrated. For once he refused to dwell on that frustration, and he countered it with all the good memories she had given him. Her rich, warm laughter, her gentle way with sick and frightened animals, the bond she had formed with his nephew Simon. The passion of their lovemaking.
“I brought you something,” Tom said, holding out the paper bag.
Rachel took it and looked inside. “Oh, my gosh.” She pulled her cell phone from the bag and turned it on. “How did you find them in that jungle?”
“I didn’t. I gave Brandon and the Blackwoods the day off yesterday, and they spent it searching the woods at the McClure place. They found the binoculars without much trouble, but it took them a few hours to spot the phone.”
“I don’t know how I’ll be able to thank them, but I’ll think of something.” Rachel looked up at Tom, the light from the doorway exposing the purple bruise on one cheek. “Have you heard a prognosis? For Meredith, I mean.”
Tom hesitated, wishing he didn’t have to answer the question. She would hear it from somebody, though. Might as well be him. “She’s lost the sight in one eye, but she’ll have some left in the other. The doctors aren’t sure how much.”
Rachel pressed a hand to her mouth. Tom wondered how many times the image of Meredith’s bleeding eyes had risen up in her mind, the same way it had in his.
“You acted in self-defense. You did the right thing.”
Her humorless little smile came and went in an instant. “You might have to repeat that several hundred times before I start believing it.”
“As many times as it takes.” Tom brushed his fingertips across her bruised cheek. The brief contact pierced him with longing. He wanted to hold her. He needed to hold her.
Rachel lowered her head so that her hair fell forward, obscuring her face. “Will you tell me something? Was Lindsay with you the night of the meeting? Was she at your house?”
“She showed up there, yeah. We had it out, I told her there was no chance of us ever getting back together. And I made her leave.” Tom tilted Rachel’s chin so he could look into her face. “What have you been thinking? That I was sleeping with her again? I thought you knew me better than that.”
Rachel’s solemn eyes searched his face. “I was beginning to feel as if I didn’t know you at all.” She added in a near-whisper, “You probably feel the same way about me.”
Tom hooked his thumbs in his pockets to keep himself from pulling her into an embrace and telling her he knew all he needed to know, nothing else mattered. It did matter. It always would. “I think something happened in your life that you want to keep hidden. Something that’s caused you a lot of grief.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “It’s not the secret itself that bothers me, because whatever it is, you’re still the same person. What kills me is that you don’t trust me enough to confide in me.”
The silence that followed was broken only by the chirping of crickets. Tom looked out into the gathering darkness and wondered if he’d just sealed his fate, destroyed any chance of rebuilding their relationship and having a future with Rachel. He’d spoken the truth and he didn’t regret that. How could love ever be enough if they didn’t trust each other too?
At last Rachel spoke, her words halting. “I’m not protecting myself. I haven’t done anything wrong. Something happened to my sister and me when we were small children, and we didn’t learn the truth until a few years ago. There are others involved—innocent people who don’t deserve to be hurt. If it all came out, it’s the kind of thing that might get a lot of attention, and it would turn their lives upside down. I promised my sister I would never let that happen.”
“Hey,” Tom said, forcing a grin, “I wasn’t planning to put out a press release. Regardless of what you tell me, I won’t betray your confidence. I love you, Rachel. I want you to trust me.”
Rachel placed the bag containing the phone
and binoculars on the floor. She reached out and pulled one of his hands from his pocket. Twining her fingers in his, she moved closer and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you, Tom,” she said. “I’ve missed you so much.”
He wrapped his arms around her and drew her tight against him. “Oh, God, Rachel, it’s so good to hold you. I feel like it’s been a lifetime.”
“It might take me a while,” she said. “Telling you about my life. I didn’t find out the truth about my family until a few years ago, and I’ve gotten used to keeping it all a secret. Talking about it is going to feel very strange, and it might take a long time to tell you everything.”
“I’ve got all the time in the world.”
Rachel ran a finger over his lips. “Can you stay with me tonight? Holly’s spending the night with her grandmother. We have the house to ourselves. We can—”
A hoarse meow cut her off. Rachel and Tom both looked toward the doorway, where Frank sat inside the screen door. When the cat had their attention, he meowed again, turning up the volume, giving it the urgency of a command. Somewhere behind him in the living room, Cicero squawked, “Hello, come in. Hello, come in.”
“Well,” Rachel said, “not entirely to ourselves.”
Tom laughed, and his laughter seemed to erase the last traces of doubt from Rachel’s eyes. She smiled up at him, that intimate, sexy smile he hadn’t seen since this nightmare began.
A few days ago, happiness had shimmered in the distance like a mirage, an unreachable fantasy. But in the end, it was as simple and real as this—a bossy cat, a noisy bird, and Rachel in his arms, smiling.
Author’s Note
Readers unfamiliar with Rachel’s background will find the entire story, told in her own voice, in The Heat of the Moon.
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