by Britney King
“Her family wasn’t even there,” Ashley says, incredulously.
I dump the coffee in the sink and toss the mug in with it. The noise startles everyone. “I’m going to bed.”
“Wait,” Davis says. “We want to talk to you. And not just about Julia.”
“Not about Julia alone,” Ashley corrects him.
“We think you need a break.” Davis tells me. He speaks slowly and calmly. Davis does not sound like himself. He doesn’t sound like anyone I know.
“Why don’t you take a trip?” Johnny says, and it’s not really a question. He makes that much clear with his sharp tone. “This house is taking its toll on you.”
“It makes sense you would say that, seeing as you’re just dying to sell it out from under me.”
“I’m not the bad guy, Ruth.” Johnny looks down at the table. “When’s the last time you took a day off?”
“People around town are starting to talk,” Davis says.
“How is that anything new? That’s all anyone around here ever does. They talk. And nothing changes. It’s called living in a small town. It’s a fishbowl.”
“A vacation might do you good,” Ashley says. “I know it has me. You never know. Getting out of the fishbowl could be cleansing for the soul.”
I glare at her for a quick beat. “Go fuck yourself.”
Both Johnny and Davis shake their heads. I know it isn’t exactly lady like to speak that way. I’ve tasted enough soap in my lifetime to know. People in this town gossip about my outbursts. But I don’t care. This woman walks into my house, walks in from nowhere, and thinks she knows what’s best for me. That’s cute.
“Don’t be rude,” Davis says. “Ashley’s just trying to help.”
“I said what I said. I have zero remorse.”
My gaze flits between Davis and Johnny. “And who came up with this grand idea, anyway? Her? It couldn’t have been you two, that’s for sure. It’s not like you’re going to step up to the plate and take care of things around here. Obviously, this place doesn’t just run itself. But you wouldn’t know that, given either of you hardly lift a finger.”
Johnny folds his hands and places them on the table. It looks like he’s praying and it reminds me of so many dinners we’ve had in years past. “We could always put selling back on the table.”
I sensed this coming, but that doesn’t mean it stings any less. They’ve been bringing the subject up more and more lately.
“Ashley thinks she might have found a buyer,” Davis says.
“Fuck Ashley. And fuck her buyer.”
“I won’t allow you to speak to my fiancée that way, Ruth.”
“Well then, fuck you, too.” Then, I turn to her. “You know, it’s funny. Everything you touch in this town ends up dead or worse.”
She looks at me and swallows hard. “What’s worse than dead?”
“If you’re not careful you might just find out.”
“Ruth, don’t threaten people. Ashley is a guest. Could you try to maybe be a little less offensive?” Johnny says. He seems almost serious. But I can tell he’s mocking the situation. My older brother always has loved a good cat fight. Even better if he’s the source. I can also tell that he’s envious of Davis, and that is doing me no favors.
“Is that what she is?” I ask. “A guest? No, it can’t be.”
Davis pushes away from the table.
“Because guests—” I say. “They pay their way. They bring something to the table. Her, she’s done nothing but cause trouble. And”—I motion around the kitchen— “all on the trust’s dime.”
“See?” She looks at Davis. “This is what I’m talking about. She’s abusive.”
“Ashley is right. We’ve planned sort of an intervention here,” Davis says. “I don’t think you should make things worse for yourself.”
I walk over to the door and hold it open. “Get out.”
“Ruth,” Johnny and Davis say at the same time. “Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!”
“This,” Ashley says, tossing up her hands. “This is what I’m talking about.”
The three of them study me curiously, like I’m on exhibit at the local zoo, like some kind of animal, and they’re both interested and terrified of what I might do.
“She told us what happened,” Davis informs me.
My brow furrows because there’s no telling what she said. It could literally be anything.
Ashley rolls one sleeve on her pajama top and pushes it above her elbow.
Davis sighs sorrowfully. “She showed us the scratches on her arms.”
“You attacked me,” she says. “I mean… I know you were upset, but it’s no excuse. Violence is never an excuse.”
My eyes widen, and a lump the size of a grapefruit forms in my throat. I’ve seen a lot of things. Nothing like this. “She’s lying.”
“You got my best friend arrested,” Johnny tells me. “Not to mention, almost killed.”
“First of all, someone was following me. They were ramming my car. I could have been killed. Cole showing up very well might’ve saved my life.”
“I don’t know, Ruth…” Davis chimes in. “Don’t you think it’s possible you’re overreacting?”
“What? You mean like last time? When my car got shot up?”
“This seems different.”
“Different how?”
Davis raises his brow. “My guess? It was probably just kids messing with you. Teenagers with nothing better to do…”
“Right,” I say with an eye roll. “And I’ve got oceanfront property in Arizona.”
Then I turn to Johnny. “And about Cole—if you cared about either of us, you would have shown up.”
“I was at work.”
“You’re literally a first responder.”
“You can’t expect someone to always come to your rescue, Ruth. It’s not like it would’ve made any difference. The damage was already done. It has been done for a long time.”
Davis and Johnny and Ashley, they’re coming at me from all sides. I’m running out of fight, so I turn away. I need a second to think. Outside, the sun is starting to peek through the trees. Already, the steady drone of a lawn mower hums in the distance. The sound reminds me of something, something I hadn’t thought of. “I can’t leave now.”
They all wait for me to say whatever it is I’m going to say next. I stall for maximum effect. “If I left now, I’d miss the engagement party.”
“But after,” Davis replies, his tone hopeful. “You’ll go somewhere after? Just a little vacation.”
“Sure, why not.” I shrug. “A road trip sounds fun.”
“Good,” Ashley says, rubbing her forearm. “You really need it.”
I flip on the faucet and glance over my shoulder. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll even come home with a new fiancé.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ruth
There’s good news and there’s bad news. And some middle of the road kind in between. The way I see it, I have a few options. There’s a lot up in the air. But the good news is, I have a deep sense of knowing what it is I have to do.
The first thing: after I make sure breakfast is handled for guests, I need to catch a few hours of sleep.
This is the easy part. I set my alarm, close my eyes, and fall into a fitful sleep. When my alarm goes off a little before noon, I wake with cotton mouth and a foggy mind.
A cold shower helps, and afterward, I feel like a million bucks. At least, this is what I tell myself, anyway. Mind over matter.
Forty-eight hours is all that stands between now and the engagement party. This means I have a lot to do in a short amount of time.
Second thing, I call Roy. I need his help. Not only with the situation with Cole. But there’s something else, something I hadn’t thought of. I ask him to stop by because I know it’ll be easier in person.
While I’m waiting for him to arrive, I keep myself busy by doing some digging. It’s stormy o
ut, which fits my mood. I try Cole.
Gina answers his phone. And nothing surprises me anymore. He’s pissed at me, and this is his way of passively aggressively showing me. He recalls last night very differently than I do. In his mind, we had a fight, the usual one, about commitment. He was drunk, so he remembers things a little differently. In his mind, I took off, and he followed. The details of how and why he ended up on that farm to market road are rather hazy.
I’ve been a friend of the bottle myself. So, I suppose I understand, even though I don’t. Not really. I guess we all run out of good favor sometime. Still, it hurts that Cole would turn his back on me. That he would blame me. He could have been the hero, but instead, he’s taking the victim route. It doesn’t make any sense. But then, his hangover hasn’t even had time to wear off fully. Anything can still happen.
The situation with Cole bothers me enough that it motivates me to become a keyboard warrior. After all, the rage has to go somewhere.
Finally, it seems to pay off when I find a forum online that mentions the name Caitlyn Jepson. When I click on the thumbnail, I am not expecting much. I do not actually believe that the name on the driver’s license—Caitlyn Jepson — is anymore her real name than Ashley is.
Jackpot. The image loads and chills creep up my spine. It’s a picture of Ashley a.k.a Caitlyn, only with darker hair. She looks a little younger in the photo, which could be a result of the hair color, although the photo can’t be that old. Because whoever she is, the woman my brother is engaged to, Ashley—she isn’t that old.
The OP as many of the comments reference, or the original poster “Chris” writes: Beware if you see this woman. She stole from me. She’s a scam artist. DM for more info.
Within ninety seconds, I’ve created an account, clicked on his username, and hit send on a direct message. I keep it short and simple. I think a friend might be involved with this woman. Would you be willing to chat?
Two hours go by. I check my inbox at least a dozen times. Nothing. The post was written six months ago, so who knows. People write a lot of things on the internet in the heat of the moment. Maybe he’s put the situation behind him. Maybe he has no intention of digging up the past.
I’m sitting in one of the wingback chairs in the library, with my laptop teetering on my lap when Ashley comes strolling in. Davis follows at her heel, which I’m grateful for. I don’t want to be alone with her.
I don’t trust her. But more than that, I don’t trust myself.
It’s also a double-edged sword. I need to talk to her alone. Risky as that may be.
The worst of the storm has passed but the rain remains.
“There you are,” Davis says. His hair is windblown and he’s soaked from head to toe. But my attention is on Ashley. She’s beaming. She’s grinning from ear to ear and she looks absolutely radiant, even wet. I’ve seen this same twinkle in the eyes of brides-to-be many, many times. It’s the look of someone getting everything they’ve ever wanted. I didn’t think it was possible to hate her anymore, but sometimes I surprise even myself. “We’ve just been in town finalizing the floral arrangements for Saturday night,” Davis tells me. “Wait till you see them. Mrs. Adkins has really outdone herself.”
My brow furrows. “Since when do you care about flowers?”
“He doesn’t,” Ashley quips. “Afterward we dropped by the caterers to taste test the menu.”
“It was the food for me,” he confesses.
“But that’s not all,” Ashley says. She gives my brother the side eye. “Do you want to tell her? Or should I?”
“It’s your news. You tell her.”
Ashley claps her hands giddily and then rubs her palms together. “I’m starting a business!”
Davis nods. “Ashley is incredible. She’s already landed three clients.”
My lips press into a tight smile. I should have seen this coming. She is never going to leave.
“Tell her,” Davis urges.
“Well, after spending so much time in town, I realized how much easier it would be if I had the option to search online before spending the time to drive in.”
“Such hard work shopping is.”
“Right?” Her eyes widen. She feels happy to be understood. “That and with all the tourists, if they had an online presence, I have no doubt they’d get a lot of repeat business.”
I almost laugh. Thankfully, I mange to refrain. The joke is on her and I can’t wait to get to the punchline. Residents of Jester Falls are people, people. They aren’t tech savvy. They’re relationship savvy.
“Ashley is helping Georgia Adkins and Ms. Anita get set up online.”
She nods. “I think with them on board, I can get the rest of the town behind the idea. It could really do a lot for the local economy.”
A notification flashes across my laptop screen. I agree. “It’s amazing the things you can find online.”
Ashley grins proudly, the way people do when they think they’ve won.
“You see,” Davis says, nudging her with his elbow. “I told you my sister could be nice when she wants to be.”
He glares at me, and then he places his hand on the small of Ashley’s back. “It just takes her a little time to warm up is all.”
I watch as he leads her out of the room.
Ashley turns and glances over her shoulder. Behind her back she tosses up her middle finger. I don’t even care. Chris from the internet has just messaged me back.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ruth
It takes several hours, but Roy does finally show up. The storms left downed trees and debris strewn about, which left several residents stranded. Needless to say, when he arrives he isn’t in the best mood, but most things can be fixed, and thankfully Roy is one of them.
He leans against his cruiser, his arms folded across his chest. He waits for me to come to him, which is an interesting maneuver on his part. Roy is aware he has something I need, and he has decided he isn’t going to make it easy.
I offer a friendly wave from the porch. I will make myself small for him, because the situation calls for it, and ultimately that’s what he wants.
Roy has always reminded me, and the rest of the town, of Barney Fife from The Andy Griffith show. We used to call him that growing up, and sometimes I wonder if he actually wanted to be a police officer, or if everyone’s teasing sent him on that track. I don’t know what makes me think of those days, of taunting him on the playground. Maybe it’s seeing him here, knowing that he has the upper hand and wondering if perhaps he always did. I guess you don’t know what you don’t know. Certainly, no one is teasing him now, and no one below the age of thirty has any recollection of that show, something I think Roy is grateful for.
“You called?” he says, as I reach the edge of the drive. I stop there, with my hands on my hips like there’s an invisible line drawn in the sand. He looks at me with thinly veiled disdain. “I take it this has something to do with last night?”
I have to admit, I have a lot on my mind. It had not occurred to me that Roy would be angry with me about the situation with Cole. But he is, and the storms and downed trees have nothing on that anger.
“No,” I say. “Actually it doesn’t.”
“What can I do for you, Ruth?”
I look away. “There’s someone out there… someone who wants me dead. And I think I might know who it is.”
His expression tells me he thinks I’m being dramatic. “Who’s that?”
“I don’t want to name names. I mean… I shouldn’t. Not unless I’m sure. Right?”
“Well, the way I see it…” His gaze follows mine. “You can start naming names or you could wait until it’s too late. It’s your call.”
“I know you’re angry with me,” I say, because sometimes it’s better to call out the proverbial elephant in the room straightaway. “And you have a right to be.”
“You have terrible taste in men.”
Our eyes meet. “I’ve seen worse.”
&
nbsp; “You used to be different.”
“Maybe you just didn’t know me.”
“Impossible.”
It’s not. When Roy looks at me, he sees what he wants to see. “You think?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think.” He looks away. “Why’d you call?”
“I was wondering if you might arrest Davis.”
“For what?”
I’m trying to be funny, but he’s not taking the bait. There were two ways this could go, and luckily for my brother, the internet came through. That’s not to say I am above having him put in jail; anything to save him and our business from that woman. Still, that would be a low blow. Even for me. “To keep him from marrying that woman.”
“Apparently not even the prospect of jail can keep true love away. But you know that, don’t you, Ruth?”
“I do. But I know something else.”
“Pray tell.”
“I know fresh starts are possible.”
“Bless your heart,” he tells me, which in the south sounds a whole lot like fuck you. “I’ve been in this business a long time…”
I don’t know what business he’s talking about, but I know that I’m about to find out. “People don’t really change.”
“They can’t,” I say. “Not if you refuse them the chance. Which is why I called—” I flash a devilish grin. “I need a date for Saturday night.”
Roy looks at me in disbelief. He narrows his eyes. I don’t know if there’s hope hidden in those eyes, only that I need there to be. I think for his sake, he does too. “What’s the catch?”
“There’s no catch.”
“Let me guess. You want me to make Cole Wheeler jealous.”
“Of course not. Jesus, Roy. I’m not that petty.”
“Who then? Ryan?”
“It hurts that you think so little of me.”
“It’s a terrible plan, Ruth. And it won’t work.”
“I should hope not.” I get the sense he wants me to say more. More than anything, he wants to be right. He wants me to give just a little, and so I do. “And why is that? Why won’t it work?”