The Stillwater Bay Collection (Books 1-4): Stillwater Bay Series Boxed Set

by Steena Holmes

  She forced herself to step close to him again and knelt down, but this time not out of concern.

  She waited until he looked in her eyes.

  “I don’t know what happened that day. I wasn’t there, but I’ve often thought about it. How broken he must have felt when you turned your back on him. What if he’d brought the gun out to kill himself and someone saw him? What if that first shot wasn’t calculated but rather a mistake? What if he’d been startled and he pulled the trigger by accident? What if he lost control by then and all the other deaths could have been prevented?” Her throat ached from holding in the emotions.

  “What if he’d been on his way to find you, to talk to you, to force you to talk, but by then it had been too late? You”—she jabbed him in the chest—“you could have prevented all those deaths if you’d just stayed and talked to him. If you’d brought him into your office and…” she stopped.

  Jordan’s eyes were full of something she didn’t understand.

  “What are you hiding from me? What haven’t you told me? What was she missing that was tearing him apart like so?

  “I saw the gun,” he admitted. “I saw it and knew that he was there to shoot me with it.” He said woodenly.

  Charlotte closed her eyes and let his words sink in.

  She hadn’t wanted to believe it. She’d thought about it, wondered if he’d known Gabe had the gun on him, but she’d always dismissed the thought because it sounded so ludicrous. He was a principal with hundreds of students in his care; of course he wouldn’t have allowed a gun in his school—especially with all the school shootings that had happened in the United States. The idea was ridiculous.

  Except that was exactly what he’d done.

  “It’s your fault. All those deaths…they are on you.”

  Jordan reeled back as if in shock at her words. He pushed himself up from the step and his body jerked toward her, but she stepped back, not wanting to be any closer to him than necessary.

  Charlotte’s lungs expanded with pressure and her body shook from the adrenaline rushing through her. “Bobby. Wes. Katie…it’s all your fault they are dead.” She held her hands up as a barrier between her and the man in front of her. They shook, and nothing she did would stop them.

  “I can’t…” She sucked in a breath and held it, knowing she needed to calm down before she lost it. “I can’t deal with this right now, Jordan.”

  “Now you understand, don’t you?” Jordan cried. “Why I need to do something to make it right? Why it’s tearing me up so much?”

  Understand? No, she didn’t understand. But what she did know was this…that same calmness that came in the middle of a storm now filled her heart.

  “Make it right? Do you honestly think telling the truth will make up for what happened? I will not let you tell the truth; do you understand me, Jordan Stone?” There was a force to her voice, behind her words, that she knew he heard.

  “I will not,” she continued, “allow you to destroy so many people in this town all because you can’t handle the truth. Man up. This isn’t about you anymore—“ her voice broke. “This is no longer about you.”

  He stumbled backward at the fury of her voice.

  “If you need time to wrap your head around what you did, around the devastation of your actions, then by all means…take that time. Go wherever it is you need to go and do whatever you need to do. Figure it out and come back.” She swallowed hard past the wad of emotions she almost couldn’t hold anymore. “Or don’t. If you can’t figure it out, don’t come back.”

  She couldn’t keep doing this.

  She was breaking apart inside. She needed someone to talk to, someone to pour her heart and soul out to, and there was only one person she could think of.

  13

  It was late but a light shone through the slit between the curtains as Charlotte knocked on the glass sliding door. Thank goodness her mother had a ground-level apartment. She really didn’t want to walk through the lobby and make an excuse to the night desk worker why she was there so late.

  “Charlotte? What on earth?” Doris clutched her dressing gown tight between her fist as she opened the door and stepped to the side.

  “I can’t do it anymore, Mom.” The words ripped out of Charlotte’s throat, leaving her raw.

  “Oh, honey.” Doris wrapped her arms around Charlotte and held her tight. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Charlotte sucked the air into her deflated lungs. “You don’t understand.”

  Doris searched her eyes and it took everything within Charlotte not to look away.

  “I was about to make myself a cup of peppermint tea before bed. Here, sit. You’re shaking like a leaf.” Her mother grabbed her hands and led her to the kitchen table.

  Startled, Charlotte glanced down to confirm.

  Her mom didn’t attempt any type of small talk while she poured the boiling kettle into the waiting pot. For that, Charlotte was thankful.

  Coming here had been her first and only option.

  She also came to tell her mother the truth. She needed to tell someone, someone who would understand, someone who wouldn’t doubt her.

  “What happened?” Doris asked.

  “I…I told Jordan to leave.” At the shocked look in her mother’s eyes, Charlotte shook her head. “Not permanently. At least…I don’t think it will be,” she clarified. “Something…something’s happened and I asked… Well, he needs to make a decision.” She knew that didn’t make sense, could see it in the way her mother’s cocked her head, but she didn’t know how else to describe it without spilling the whole story.

  “I think it’s time you explained. And I want the truth this time, Charlotte. You don’t need to spare me or anyone else whatever pain you think you’re about to cause.” Doris straightened her shoulders, making the decision final with the look she gave Charlotte. The look that said, Don’t argue with me; I’m your mother.

  “I know.” Charlotte wasn’t going to argue. Doris was right. As usual. And as usual her mother saw right through her, as only a mother could.

  “Okay, then.” Doris took a sip of her tea. “What did he do?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “It’s more like what didn’t he do. So much, Mom.” Her voice broke. “So much.”

  She could feel the tears rise, so she squeezed her eyes closed, forcing them to recede.

  “I’m going to tell you a story. I think I’ve put it all together now.” She reached out and lightly touched her mother’s hand. “Just let me tell it before you interrupt with questions or start swearing up a storm, all right?”

  Doris’s lips thinned. “I’ll stay quiet.”

  Charlotte wrapped her shaking hands back around her mug and forced herself to calm down. She took a sip of her tea.

  “Just before Jordan and I met, he’d been in a…relationship.” She didn’t like calling it that, but she wasn’t sure how else to label it. “They broke up; he met me and then apparently found out she was pregnant.” She looked her mother in the eye, caught a flash of emotion, but her mother remained silent.

  Charlotte cleared her throat. “Fast forward to when the mother and child move to Stillwater Bay because she realizes her son needs his father and hopes that by moving here a relationship can build.”

  “I can understand that. A child needs their parent, especially young Gabriel. That boy needed a father figure in his life like no other.” Doris took a sip of her tea.

  “You knew?” Shocked, Charlotte was at a loss for words.

  Doris’s shoulder lifted slightly. “I always suspected.”

  Charlotte was in shock. “You never said anything.”

  “Why would I? At first I thought you knew and assumed you’d talk to me when you were ready.”

  Charlotte’s brow rose. “I guess you were wrong then, because I only recently found out. A little hint would have been nice.”

  “Oh, seriously, Charlotte. Since when did you ever stop to listen to anything I had to say? You’ve spent yo
ur whole adult life trying to prove something to me. Besides, once you started being friends with Julia, I figured I might be wrong. I didn’t want to stir anything up.”

  Charlotte frowned. She wanted to argue with her mom, she really did, but it would be futile to do so. Doris was right, but now really wasn’t the time to get into that.

  “I’m not sure what hurts most, you know? That Jordan never told me the truth or that Julia…” She shook her head and didn’t finish the thought.

  “Julia was doing what she needed to do to protect her son. You can’t fault her for that. She’s a good woman, Charlotte. You know that. And correct me if I’m wrong, but she wasn’t all that friendly with you in the beginning, was she?”

  Charlotte leaned her head back and sighed. No, Julia hadn’t been friendly. She’d kept her distance, never wanting to get too close, always too busy for any coffee dates Charlotte attempted to invite her to. She’d made it very clear she wanted nothing to do with Charlotte, and yet…Charlotte saw something in the woman that drew her in. She liked her and wanted to get to know her.

  “No, she wasn’t. You’re right. But that’s not why I’m here.” Dealing with her feelings about Julia, their complicated relationship and where it left them…that wasn’t something she could fix right now.

  “Then tell me.” Doris leaned back in her chair and waited.

  Charlotte bit her lip, suddenly very uncomfortable with sharing. The words caught in her throat.

  “Gabriel went to the school to confront Jordan. He found out somehow that Jordan was his father.” Charlotte voice broke.

  “He brought a gun to the school because of Jordan, Mom,” she continued after catching her breath. “My husband tore that boy apart, hurt him so much that Gabriel felt the need to bring a gun to his first confrontation with the man who should have loved him.” She shook her aching head as images of the devastation from that day flashing through her memory.

  She leaned forward and tried to find the words to continue.

  “Jordan lied. He didn’t try to talk Gabriel down, didn’t try to reason with him—he ran.” Her throat ached, as if physically trying to stop the words from spilling out. “He saw the boy come into the school, noticed the gun at his side, and rather than call the police or stop him from entering the building…my husband ran and hid.” She fought against the tears, staring up to the ceiling and blinking fast. She pushed the pain aside, forcing herself to tell the rest.

  “He knew, Mom. He knew why Gabriel was there and rather than man up and admit his mistakes, rather than listen to his son, he turned his back and hid while Gabriel lost control and killed all those children.” She couldn’t hold it back any longer, couldn’t stop the tears that fell.

  She wasn’t crying for Jordan. She was mourning Gabriel, the lost boy who only wanted a father, who probably only took the gun as false bravado and would never have used it…if only Jordan had been the man she’d always thought him to be.

  So much heartache. So much destruction. So much death and it was all—

  “Don’t you dare put this on yourself.” Doris was at her side, arms wrapped around her while Charlotte sobbed.

  “I should have seen. I should have known.” The words tore out of Charlotte’s body, the burden so heavy she wasn’t sure how she could carry it.

  “This isn’t on you, Charlotte. It’s not on you.” Doris rubbed her back as Charlotte tried to pull herself together.

  She wished she could believe her mom; she really did. But it was on her. She knew it was. This was her town. These were her families. They trusted her to look out for them, to do what was right for them, and she hadn’t. For whatever reason, she hadn’t been aware of the hidden threat affecting their town—her husband.

  “How long have you known about this?” Doris’s voice was soft, careful almost. As if she already knew the answer.

  “Since the statue unveiling. He…Jordan told me the truth in my office afterward. He couldn’t handle being called a hero…he still can’t.” Not that she blamed him. “But I need him to be. This town…they need him to be their hero. Those kids…” She wiped the tears streaming down her face with the back of her hand.

  “Those kids need to feel safe when they go back to school.” Doris finished for her. “So of course you asked him to continue playing the hero, didn’t you?” Doris said with affection, as if she knew and agreed with what Charlotte had asked of her husband.

  Charlotte nodded.

  “Oh, Charlotte-mine, what have you done to that man?”

  Charlotte hadn’t heard her mother use that name for her in a very long time. Charlotte-mine was something her mother used to call her when she was little and had made a poor decision.

  “We both know he’s not as strong as you. Plus he has a heart of gold when it comes to children. No wonder this is eating him up.”

  Doris’s gaze was full of sympathy, and that broke the walls within Charlotte.

  Tears flowed down her face as she thought back to all those conversations with her husband. The conversations she’d led. The ones where she’d assumed his actions and he never denied.

  Not once. Why?

  “I imagine his self-loathing is more powerful than yours for him,” Doris answered.

  Charlotte buried her face in her hands.

  “Poor Julia,” Doris said. “How is she handling all this?”

  Charlotte huffed through her tears. “I don’t know what to do when it comes to Julia. She told Jordan she didn’t want him in Gabriel’s life. She…betrayed me. She kept this from me—her relationship with Jordan, their son…. She should have told me…trusted me. I’m not sure I can get past that.”

  Doris ran her finger along the rim of her teacup. “A mother will do anything to protect her child, Charlotte. Even if it means keeping a secret that she think may hurt him in the end.”

  Charlotte didn’t agree. “How could I hurt him? I would have loved Gabe. I would have been enough, even if Jordan wasn’t.”

  The smile Doris gave her reminded her of the look she’d get as a child when she said something ridiculous.

  “What?”

  Doris leaned forward. “This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with Julia and Jordan. Don’t blame the woman.”

  “If they’d been honest, if they’d told me about this past and present…no one would have had to die,” Charlotte explained.

  “So you’re God now?” Doris’s brows rose in surprise. “That must make me the Virgin Mary, except both you and I know there’s not much in common between me and Mary.” The sarcasm in her mother’s voice dripped like honey.

  “I don’t need your sarcasm, thank you.” Charlotte grabbed a napkin to wipe her face.

  “No, you need my honesty. That’s why you came here and didn’t run to Jenn or Anne Marie or even Lacie, women you call your best friends. You needed someone to be honest with you, to knock you off that stool you like to sit on as mayor and force you to be real.” With a heavy sigh, Doris stood and headed into the kitchen.

  Charlotte watched as her mother brought out a bottle of whiskey, along with two shot glasses, and set them down on the table.

  “You need a plan. That’s why you’re here. There’s more to the story than what Jordan has told you; I’m sure of it. I also know I’m the only one who can help you to figure all this out without being torn apart inside.” Doris poured the whiskey into the glasses, nudged one toward Charlotte, and then raised hers to her lips and downed it.

  She waited for Charlotte to do the same.

  Charlotte hated whiskey. Hated the burn that always came afterward, but she indulged her mother and shot it back like the woman she was.

  “You can’t tell Lacie or Jenn. Leave them alone in their grief. Let them heal in their own time without adding on your own problems. Jordan needs to man up and admit the truth himself. It’s not your responsibility.”

  “But I know the truth!” She knew the truth and it was eating her up inside.

  “Do you?”
Doris asked. “Somehow, I don’t think you do.” She raised her hand, stopping Charlotte from interrupting. “I hate that he paid that sweet woman off believing it absolved him from all responsibilities. But”—she winced—“there’s something about his story I don’t like. He told you he saw the gun and still ran? What kind of person does that? And how would he have seen the gun but no one else did? Didn’t Jenn talk to Gabe moments before he walked into the school? There were others about as well, right? How come no one else saw the gun then? There’s no way that boy could have walked from his home to the school without someone seeing something and stopping him.”

  Charlotte sat back in her chair, her mother’s words making sense.

  “You didn’t think about that, did you?”

  Charlotte numbly shook her head. Why hadn’t she?

  “Don’t beat yourself up.”

  “But why?” Charlotte needed to know. If it were true that he hadn’t seen the gun, then why lie to her about it? What could he possibly gain by that? Didn’t he realize how bad it made him look to admit he knew about the gun and yet did nothing?

  Charlotte leaned forward, elbows on the table, head buried in her hands. She ran her fingers through her hair, messing up her ponytail in the process. The only thing she could think of was that the guilt was too much for him to handle and he found himself mired in lies. Did he think if she pitied him, she might then try to save him?

  “I need to talk to Jordan. To find out for sure.” Charlotte pushed back in her seat, her anxiety level higher than she’d expected. She didn’t like the unknown, and not knowing what was going on with Jordan…it was too much. “Samantha wants to do an article on the two of us, labeling us the town heroes. Jordan wants to confess his sins, to clear the slate—”

  “So let him.” Doris’s words halted her.

  Like trying to walk through ankle-high mud in nothing but socks, Charlotte tried really hard to wrap the words around her tongue that would convince her mother why letting him talk to Sam was such a bad idea, but she couldn’t.