“You should stay,” he said.
“No, I’m really tired …”
“I didn’t mean at the bar,” he said. “I meant stay here. In Redemption.”
I looked at him in surprise. “Why do you say that?”
He gave me a slanted smile. “Because you’re considering not staying, aren’t you?”
“I ...” Was I that easy to read? “I do have a house here, so I’d rather not go ...”
“But,” he interrupted with a knowing look. “There’s always a ‘but.’”
I spread my hands out. “It’s safer if I leave.”
He cocked his head. “Are you sure about that?”
“Well, yeah. If he can’t find me, then there’s no reason for him to stick around here.”
“Well, as you pointed out, you have a house here. So, he could just find a place to say and wait it out until you return.”
I started to feel a cold pit of anxiety in my stomach. “What if I sell it? Then there’s nothing tying me here.”
He jammed his hands in his pockets. “Sure, you could try and sell it while you’re on the road, and maybe there’s even a way you can do that so there’s no contact from you, but then what? You’re going to run forever? You really think he’d never figure out a way to find you?”
“Eventually, he’ll move on,” I said, even though I wasn’t all that sure. “He’s not going to waste the rest of his life looking for me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “But you’re going to waste yours running away from him?”
Good point. I bit my lip and looked away. A collection of moths dive-bombed the lights near me. I could hear the thuds as their soft bodies hit the glass over and over, until there was nothing left.
“What other choice do I have?” I asked, my voice low.
Jonathan took two steps toward me. “It’s like I said before,” he murmured. “You stay. You fight. You take a stand right here.”
His face was so, so close. If I just leaned forward slightly, I could kiss him. His dark-brown eyes were locked intently on mine. His warm breath tickled my face, smelling of beer.
“But what if someone I care about gets hurt?” I asked. “How could I live with myself?”
“People can make their own choices. You can’t be responsible for their actions. And if they want to help you, let them.”
“Yes, but ...”
“You don’t even know if he’s still alive,” he said. “Are you really thinking about abandoning your home, your job, everything you have going for you here because of a few loose ends?”
I arched my eyebrow. “It’s more than a ‘few loose ends.’”
“Not really. The detective thinks the case is closed. Bill isn’t convinced. Alan’s family thinks he’s dead. If it was that obvious he faked it, there would probably be more people questioning it than just you.”
“Does that mean you don’t believe me, either?”
“I didn’t say that.”
His eyes never left mine. Nervously, I licked my lips, and watched his eyes darken with desire.
“Jonathan, there you are.”
Jonathan and I immediately jumped apart. Claire was standing behind him, her face expressionless.
“Yeah, I’m coming right back in,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Did you need something?”
She had a hand on her hip as she watched us both. “Jesse wasn’t sure if you were leaving or not. Should he get another pitcher?”
“I’ll go back in,” he said, striding back to the door. “See you, Charlie,” he said over his shoulder to me.
“Bye,” I said.
Claire started to follow him inside. “I can be over around 5 tomorrow. Would that work?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Sure,” I said.
She nodded, and for a moment I thought she was going to say something else, but she turned and disappeared into the bar, leaving me alone in the parking lot with only the suicidal moths for company.
Chapter 26
“Wow, the house smells incredible,” Claire said as she walked into the kitchen. “Have you been cooking all day?”
“Pretty much,” I said, wiping my suddenly sweaty hands on my apron. “I hope you like lasagna.”
“I didn’t mean for you to make me dinner,” Claire said. “I was thinking we could order a pizza or something.”
I waved my hand and gave her a crooked smile. “It’s fine. It gave me something to do.”
Which was true. I had barely slept, tossing and turning in a fitful sleep, waking up with a start to every creak and groan the house made, sure Alan was prowling around. I got up as soon as it was light out, intending on gardening, but the light was a weird, yellow color, and the air was muggy and still. It felt like something was pausing, waiting for what happened next … maybe even holding its breath.
Something was about to break. I could feel it. I just wasn’t sure what it was.
It was too uncomfortable for me to be outside, so I decided to clean instead. Somewhere in the middle of cleaning, I got the bright idea that I should serve snacks that evening, and if I was going to make snacks, I might as well make dinner for Claire and I, too. Before I knew it, I was stirring homemade tomato sauce and boiling noodles to make lasagna from scratch.
“Want something to drink? I’ve got White Zin, beer, wine coolers ...”
“White Zin is fine,” Claire said. She looked like she had slept about as well as I had, with dark, puffy circles under her eyes.
I bustled around, pouring a glass for both of us and bringing it to her as she roamed around the kitchen.
“Garlic bread, and are those cookies? I can’t believe all this food,” she said.
“There’s more,” I said. “There’s a salad and a cheese-and-sausage tray in the fridge. Obviously, some of it is for later when Lou and whoever else gets here.”
Claire took a sip of wine, eying me over the glass. “You really didn’t have to do all of this.”
I shrugged. “I enjoyed it. So, did you want to eat now, or give me the lowdown on what to expect?”
She moved toward the table, gesturing with her head. “Can we sit for a minute?”
“Sure.” I picked up my wine glass to join her, wondering what she wanted to talk to me about. Whatever it was, it seemed serious.
I sat down across from her. She wasn’t looking at me, instead draining half her wine. I got up to fetch the bottle to put in the middle of the table.
She gave me a sheepish smile. “Thanks,” she said, reaching for it to top off her glass. “I guess there’s no good way to start this, so I’ll just jump in.” She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and looked up at me. “You shouldn’t get involved with Jonathan.”
I put my wine down, deliberately taking time to figure out my response. I’m not involved. None of your business. “What makes you think I’m involved with Jonathan?”
She gave me a look. “Oh, come on, Charlie. I saw you two in the parking lot last night.”
“So? Nothing happened.”
“Yet,” she said. “If anyone could believe it, with the way you two look at each other.”
“What, like you and Jesse?” As soon as it was out of my mouth, I regretted it. Claire’s eyes flew open like I had slapped her. A red flush crept up her neck and onto her cheeks as her mouth worked for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” I said, afraid she might get up and walk out, never to talk to me again. But she held her hand out to stop me.
“No,” she said quietly. “I deserved that. I’m accusing you ... but nothing has happened between Jesse and I.”
“Yet,” I said, and we both chuckled.
I reached over to top off my wine glass, feeling like the conversation may require a little more alcohol. “Look, I have no intention of having an affair with J
onathan. I’m not that kind of woman to sleep with a married man.”
She sighed. “I know you’re not. And I know he isn’t. But ... the marriage isn’t happy. I’m not sure if it was ever happy.”
“Then why don’t they get divorced?”
She shook her head. “Nothing is ever that simple. I don’t know all the details, but Felicity, that’s Jonathan’s wife, she came from an abusive family.”
Seriously? I could feel all the air leaving my body, deflating me. Was that what was going on? Jonathan was only attracted to women who were trying to escape an abusive relationship? I felt like such a fool.
“His stepdad, Frank, abused his mother until she got so fed up, she left. I’m not sure why she couldn’t take Jonathan with her. Maybe she didn’t know how to support them both, but unfortunately, the end result was leaving him with that bastard.”
“He thinks she was killed,” I said, feeling more stupid by the minute. How had I not seen the signs? It was all right there in front of me. “He thinks Frank killed her.”
Claire gave me a sharp look, then her face relaxed. “Oh, that’s right. He did say that last night at the Tipsy Cow. Have you heard about Felicity, too?”
I shook my head and reached for my wine. “No one has told me anything about his marriage.”
“Well, it’s pretty clear the whole thing was a mistake.” She sighed as she cupped her glass in her hands. “He met her when he went to tech college. I’m not really sure about all the details, but it was something like she was going to have to return home to her abusive father. Jonathan married her instead and brought her here.”
“So, he’s got a savior complex,” I said. “Especially when it comes to women in abusive situations.”
Claire looked at me unhappily. “Yeah. And, well, don’t be offended, but even before we knew your story, it was pretty clear you were running from something or someone. And after I saw how he looked at you ...” she held up her hands, palms up. “I wasn’t sure how much of that was factoring in.”
“What a mess,” I said, brooding into my wine glass.
She rolled her wine glass between her hands, watching me. “Look, I like Jonathan. He’s a good friend. I’ve known him all my life.”
“I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming,” I said drily.
She gave me a half-smile. “Having to live with that bastard Frank and his mom disappearing or being killed or whatever happened to her really messed him up. He’s not ... I don’t know how to describe it, but there’s a darkness in him. Even if he wasn’t married, I still would tell you to be careful.”
I sat up a little straighter. “Has he ever done anything ...”
“No, no, no.” She quickly waved me off. “I don’t want to give you that impression. He’s not violent, not really. He would never hit a woman. But, I don’t know, it’s hard to describe. There’s just something inside him, something that feels ... dark, I guess. And I just don’t know if it’s ... healthy. I don’t know. That’s probably too harsh. I do like him.”
“You said that,” I said.
Claire took a gulp of wine. “I feel terrible for him with everything he went through. I don’t want to speak badly of him. But I also feel like I should say something to you, as well. You don’t know him the way I do.”
I held my hand up. “You don’t have to keep justifying yourself. I understand. And it’s not like it matters anyway. He is married.”
“That’s true.”
I studied her as she picked up the wine to top off her glass again. She wasn’t wearing her normal waitressing uniform. She had taken a shower and was wearing pale-pink lipstick with a matching blouse. “Speaking of people who are married, what is the story with you and Jesse?” I asked.
She blushed. “I guess I deserve that, too.” She wet her lips and started twisting a piece of hair. “Jesse and I were ... well, the timing never was right for us. There was always this crazy chemistry, but either he was with someone or I was. We were briefly together, but even then, the timing wasn’t great. Lou was no help.”
“What do you mean?”
Claire rubbed her forehead, like she was in pain. “She never wanted us to date. She didn’t want to be in the middle if we had a fight, or lose one of us, probably me, if we broke up. She wanted to keep all her relationships clean.”
“Ah, well I guess I can understand that.”
“On top of all that, Jesse was always hellbent on leaving Redemption, which Lou was vehemently opposed to. So, all of this came to a head after graduation. Jesse decided he was leaving to go to school, and Lou was furious. She was even more furious when she would catch us alone together. She did everything in her power to keep us from ever going out. Jesse told me he was done. He was leaving for college, and he wasn’t coming back … that I should find someone else.”
She gave me a self-deprecating smile. “So, I did.”
“You married Doug.”
She nodded. “I mean, I liked Doug. He was a good guy. He treated me well. And he had had a crush on me forever.” She paused, lost in her memories. “I was so furious when Jesse told me that. I went straight to Doug and persuaded him to propose. We ended up eloping in Vegas.
“Jesse only lasted a couple of years. He and Jonathan left together and they both came back. Jesse was single, but Jonathan had gotten married, as well. At first, I was still so angry with Jesse. Plus, I was sure he would leave again anyway, so it didn’t even matter. But the longer he stayed, the more I came to realize that my marriage was a mistake. I never should have married Doug. It wasn’t fair to either of us. That made it harder than ever to, well ...”
“Not do the deed?”
She blushed again, even deeper. “Yeah. Pretty pathetic.”
“I’m hardly one to judge,” I said.
She laughed. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”
“That’s for sure.” I glanced at the clock. “Oh, I need to get the lasagna out. Do you want to eat now?”
“Sure,” she said. “Do you want some help?”
“No, I’ve got it.” I dug through a drawer to find the oven mitts. “Can I ask a question that’s none of my business?”
Claire shrugged. “Why stop now?”
“If you’re not happy, why don’t you get a divorce?”
She sighed. “That’s something I ask myself every day. I guess ... well, do you want the truth?”
“Only if that’s what you want to share.”
She laughed, but it was bitter. “Get me drunk, and it never stops.” She took another swig of wine. There was a smudge of pale-pink lipstick on the rim. “I’m a coward.”
“In what way?”
She grimaced. “All ways. Doug would be crushed. He’s a good guy. I can’t do that to him. But let’s say I do. Let’s say I leave Doug and break his heart. Can I trust Jesse to not break mine? He’s let me down so many times in the past; would he truly be there for me now? Or would I go through all the heartache just to end up alone?”
I paused, leaning against the oven, bright-yellow oven mitts on my hands courtesy of Helen. “If you’re that unhappy, is it really the right decision to stay?”
Claire covered her eyes. “Yes. No. I don’t know.” She took a deep breath and dropped her hands revealing smudged mascara under her eyes. “A part of me agrees with you. Jesse really shouldn’t be a factor. I need to decide for myself what I want and just do it. But then I start to think about what would happen if I put that into motion and ... I’m just a coward.”
I opened up the oven to remove the lasagna and garlic bread, placing both on the stove. “You’re human,” I said, pulling off the oven mitts. “And you don’t have to make that decision anytime soon.”
“You were brave,” she said sadly. “When you realized your fiancé wasn’t good for you, you left.”
“My fiancé tried to kill me. I was in f
ear for my life,” I said calmly. “If Alan had been a good man, I would have married him even though he wasn’t right for me. And I’d be in an unhappy marriage right now, just like you. Trust me, I’m not all that brave.”
“I don’t believe that,” she said. “I think you’re braver than you think.”
I thought about how badly I wanted to run away. Somehow, I didn’t think that was a sign of bravery.
“Let’s eat,” I said briskly. “And you can tell me what to expect tonight with this séance.”
Chapter 27
We ate off heavy plates made of brownish-grey pottery and a design of blue flowers. Helen had left them, along with the rest of the pots, pans, and other kitchen utensils. She had even left her mother’s china.
“This is really good,” Claire said between bites. A piece of cheese hung on her chin. I gestured to it, and Claire picked up her blue-and-yellow checkered napkin to wipe it off.
“Thanks. I’d forgotten how much I love to cook.” I played with my own lasagna, having lost some of my appetite after Claire’s revelations. “So, what am I in for tonight?”
“Oh, it’s not much,” Claire assured me. “Basically, we light some candles and sit in a circle. Then, we ask the town questions.”
“And ... this works?”
“It’s worked before.”
“How does the town answer?”
Claire swallowed a bite. “It depends. Sometimes writing appears.”
I sat back in my chair. “Okay, you’re going to have to convince me a little more. This is sounding completely nutty. What exactly did you guys do? And what happened?”
Claire put her fork down and pushed her plate away so she could fold her arms across the table. “I figured you’d have questions. It was one summer when we were kids, like eight or nine. Maybe we were closer to ten. I can’t remember exactly, but I do remember how it started. Our friend Gina was getting harassed by this boy who was visiting for the summer. I think his name was Butch, or something like that. It was annoying, but it wasn’t a big deal, because everyone thought he would be leaving in a few weeks. Well, then he announced his parents had decided they love it here, and they were planning to move. Gina’s face. I can still remember it. It was like all the blood drained out. She was chalk white.
The Summoning: A gripping psychological thriller (Secrets of Redemption Book 4) Page 22