Forever (17 page)

“Patricia is going to partner with Eddie and open a larger office.”

“That seems premature. I thought she just met the guy.”

“Not exactly. He’s been around for a couple of months.”

“That’s not long, Julie. And isn’t a small real estate business quite a comedown for Eddie the big wheeler dealer?”

Julie shot him a look but said nothing.

“Patricia has checked him out, I presume.”

“Oh . . . I’m sure she has.”

From the hesitation in that answer, Tom doubted Patricia had. So be it. Her business failure would be no loss to
his
net worth.

“Tom?”

Though his stomach tightened in warning, he took another bite of his lasagna. Julie damned well better not be about to tell him she wanted to invest in the Patricia-Eddie vanity venture.

Her next words came in a rush. “I’ve been thinking about working full time.”

He put down his fork, more out of surprise than readiness to comment. He didn’t know what to say. Not that it mattered; she was still speaking.

“. . . not exactly true. Actually, I’ve already made the commitment to manage Patricia and Eddie’s new office. That’s why I’ve been going over there so much, lately.”

“I wish you’d told me the truth.”

(Like you told her the truth about
your
secret activities?)

“I know.” She averted her eyes for a moment. “So what do you think about the idea?”

“Well, I . . . is this
your
idea, Julie?”

“You mean did I let Patricia talk me into it?”

He shook his head, though that was exactly what he’d meant. “I’ve just never heard you mention wanting to work full time. That’s all.”

“I know we don’t need the money, and I know you’ve always worked hard so I could stay at home.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “But now that Lindsay’s going away to school. I think I’d like to have something more to occupy my time.”

Tom wanted to remind her that she still had a husband to occupy her time. Instead, he said, “This will give you something constructive to do, especially since Patricia will be working more hours expanding the business, and the two of you won’t be able to take the craft classes and . . . other things you do together. You’d be bored sitting around the house, and you’ve enjoyed doing the part-time office work—all that organizing and filing and data entry. Running the office sounds perfect for you.”

“I do think it will be perfect for me. Thank you for understanding.”

He only nodded. What he understood was that this was Julie’s plan to take care of herself if need be. If the construction business bottomed out. If he keeled over with a heart attack. If she decided she’d be better off not married to him.

* * *

After dinner, Julie asked Tom to drop her off at Patricia’s house. He’d offered to drive home and let her take the car, but she insisted that Patricia wouldn’t mind giving her a ride home. So he did as she asked and headed toward home alone. Less than a minute later, his phone rang. Assuming Julie had changed her mind, he answered without bothering to check the caller I.D.

The voice on the other end spoke only three words—“
plaaay, tom, plaaay
”

Tom laid down his phone and kept driving, but he changed direction. Minutes later, from his car in the Coach House parking lot, he dialed Annie’s number.

“I’m really sorry about what happened tonight,” he said when the call went to voicemail. “I need to talk to you, so I guess I’ll call you later.”

He went inside, ordered a Scotch at the bar, and downed it. A flash of red hair caught his eye. Heady with relief, he recognized the redhead immediately, and with a flick of his eyes to the left he confirmed the woman sitting across from her had long, dark hair.

The two women had been sharing a joke, but as he slid into the booth beside the redhead, their laughter died. Annie’s eyes flashed with anger.

“Go home to your wife, Tom.”

“No.” He turned to the redhead beside him and held out his hand. “Hello. I’m Tom.”

Kate smiled and shook his hand. “I’m Kate, Annie’s sister.”

“Don’t smile at him, Kate.” Annie glared at Tom. “You are
not
welcome here. Leave.”

“Annie—”

“Do you know how
humiliated
I felt at the restaurant?”

“I’m here with you now.”

He took her hand in his. A sensation like low-voltage electricity flowed through his hand. When the steeliness in her eyes melted away, he knew she felt it too. He stood and pulled her up and away from the table, toward the door.

Tom stopped outside the entrance, momentarily confused. Out of habit, he’d looked for his truck. Now, he remembered he’d driven the car, and he was glad the only parking spot he’d found was in the darker back lot. As they walked toward it in the soft, summer breeze, he slipped an arm around Annie’s waist and leaned down to kiss her. Before he could get his keys out of his pocket, she swung around to lean back against the side of the car and pulled him to her. He grasped her by the waist and felt her body trembling. Her pulse-warmed scent maddened him more with each deep, shuddering breath he took.

He was no longer aware of anything but this burning, urgent need to touch her, feel her, possess her. His hands slid up to her breasts and, through the thin cotton of her dress, he teased the hard nubs of her nipples with his thumbs, forcing soft moans from her. In frantic response, her hungry mouth sought his, and she darted the tip of her tongue between his lips and teeth. He took a step backwards pulling her with him. His hands slid down, cupping her ass, and he lifted her onto the hood of the car with no effort. Her skirt slid up around her waist as she wrapped her legs around him. He stroked the length of her thighs. He crushed her to him, and her gasp told him she felt his erection pressed against her. As he patterned kisses down her throat, she arched her back, raising her breasts to his mouth. He took them eagerly, sucking and nibbling through the taut fabric. She moaned again, louder this time, as she rocked her hips against him slowly.

He responded with a groan from deep within, and she quickened her pace, her fingers entwined in his hair and her breath coming in fast little pants close to his ear. He wanted the barrier of their clothing gone, he wanted to reach down and feel her slick warmth, he wanted to taste her, but the movement of her body against his now seemed involuntary, impelled by her own need. He felt the urgency of his own desire fast reaching the critical point and tried to pull away, but she held him tight. Then she stiffened, a cry of ecstasy rose from her, and he held back no longer.

They stayed entwined, touching and kissing until the heat of the moment faded away. With the cooling of their passion, they parted. Annie slid off the car and began to straighten her clothing. Tom busied himself lighting a cigarette. As she stood wiping her hands down her skirt, he had the bizarre impression she was wiping off his
cooties
.

“I’m sorry,” he said and laughed nervously. “I . . . don’t normally do things like that in public.”

No response.

He smoked his cigarette, glancing at her every few seconds, hoping she’d stopped staring at the ground and wiping at her skirt. Just as the silence approached the unbearable level, she lifted her head and looked at him.

“Yes,” she said with a smile, “I think we should try for a bit more privacy next time when we
almost
have sex.”

He grinned in relief. “Nothing happened when I touched you.”

“
Nothing happened
?” She flipped her hair behind her shoulders. “I don’t know what
you
expected, but something sure happened to me.”

“I wasn’t talking about
that
. I meant, when we touched, there was no
blast from the past
.”

“Oh. You’re right. It was just you and me.” She sounded distracted. “I need to tell you something. Can we sit in the car?”

While Annie told Tom about her visit to the psychic he sat facing her and holding her hand. He listened without comment. Then he lit a cigarette and sat silently smoking, looking straight ahead. She’d been unable to read anything from his face as she talked. In spite of the fact that he’d experienced the visions himself, she feared he thought she was out of her mind.

“Will you say something . . . please?”

“Well,” he said, “I guess you’ve already started verifying some of this like that woman told you to do.”

“Yes.” She sighed with relief. He believed what the psychic had said.

He turned to her. “I suppose Maggie’s husband claimed hers and the baby’s deaths were accidental, so there’s probably no court record.”

“What about probate, like Jacob’s?”

“Maybe,” he said, “but she most likely owned nothing in the eyes of the law. How old was the baby when it died?”

“He was tiny. A few weeks, I think.”

“A son,” he murmured.

She’d left out the part where the psychic told her that Kate was the baby reborn. And she wondered if it was true that she knew more than she consciously let herself remember.

“Tom, if I know all of this, if it’s in my soul like Donna DeLuca said, does that mean you know it all too?”

“I don’t know. I don’t
feel
like I know anything about
any
of this.” Taking her hand in his again he looked down at them clasped together. “For instance, why didn’t we have a vision earlier and why aren’t we having a vision right now?”

“Maybe . . .”—she let out a sigh that deflated her—“I have no idea why.”

They sat in silence for a minute. Then Annie asked, “Why did you ask how old the baby was?”

“I was thinking that since this baby was born after Jacob died, then Maggie’s husband must not have been convicted of murdering Jacob . . . or even if he was, he wasn’t hanged for it or imprisoned for long.”

“Donna said his name was Ben, but if we had his last name we could look for Maggie’s death record and the birth record for her son too.”

Tom flicked his cigarette out the window and then froze. “Bennett,” he cried out. “His name is Bennett!” He turned to Annie, his eyes darkened with fear, his chest heaving. “Elihu Bennett killed me. In the woods, I turned when he yelled, ‘You’re a dead man, Stout’ and I thought . . . I thought
damn you to hell, Bennett
.”

Tom sank back against the seat. He’d broken out in a sweat and was panting. She laid her hand on his chest and felt his heart pounding. He was caught up in remembering his last moments as Jacob.

“Tom?
Tom
, look at me!” She reached up, turning his head to face her. His eyes looked at her but he was not seeing her. “Oh, God. Please, Tom,
stop it
!”

In that instant it was over. Tom took a deep breath and his eyes focused on her.

“Oh, man.” He opened the car door and jumped out shaking himself, running both hands through his hair. “Jezzus.”

He paced back and forth. By the time she got out of the car he was trying to light a cigarette with shaking hands. Frantic, she pulled him back toward the pub door, hoping that once she got him inside, the lights and noise would bring him completely back to himself.

Annie led Tom up to the bar and ordered a double for him. He grabbed the whisky and slammed it back. “I’m all right . . . really.”

“It’s worse when you experience it by yourself, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s worse.” Faking an ease he didn’t feel, Tom managed a weak smile. The place was more packed than before they’d stepped outside. He looked toward the booth where they’d left Kate. She sat there with another couple. Nodding toward her he asked, “Should we squeeze in?”

She took his hand and led him through the crowd toward the table. The couple, who Kate didn’t bother to introduce, was just leaving, so Tom and Annie took their seats.

“What vision did you have this time?” Kate asked Tom.

His eyebrows shot up. He looked at her, then at Annie and back again to Kate. “How did you know?”

“There’s a haunted look in your eyes.”

“He remembered the name of the man who killed him,” Annie said.

“And that scared the hell out of you?”

“Well, you know, reliving your murder kind of shakes you up.” He motioned for the waitress and ordered another round for the three of them.

“You seem excited to know the man’s name,” Kate said to Annie.

“Well, of course I am. Now I can look for more records. It would be a thrill to see the birth record for our . . . for Jacob and Maggie’s son.”

“Also, if the court records still exist, they might tell us
why
Bennett shot Jacob Stout,” he added.

“Really?” Kate laughed. “I think we know
why
he shot you. You were screwing his wife!”

He nodded. “I guess that could be it . . .
if
the psychic is right about Jacob and Maggie not being married.” He closed his eyes, trying to conjure up more of the details Annie thought he was suppressing but came up with nothing.

“Tom thinks that if the baby was born after Jacob died and was only a few weeks old when they drowned, that would mean Bennett got away with killing Jacob.”

He only half-listened as Annie and Kate talked about Maggie and Jacob’s sad love story, but they got his full attention when Kate reminded Annie of some movie they’d seen with a similar plot. For a moment, he questioned whether Annie had made up this whole thing. Then he mentally smacked himself. How could Annie’s imagination explain what
he’d
seen?

“. . . like maybe there’s a whole other side to their story,” said Annie.

Tom started to ask what other side she had in mind but was interrupted by the arrival of the drinks he’d ordered.

Kate gave Annie a wicked smile, “Look, now he’s trying to get you drunk so he can take advantage of you.”

He laughed, but seeing the glare Annie gave Kate he realized there was something being said between them wordlessly. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again fearing he might say the wrong thing and add fuel to this sudden smoldering flame. Instead he picked up his Scotch and by the time he set his glass down the smoke seemed to have cleared.

The three of them chatted amiably for a while. They were interrupted often. Kate seemed to know half the people in the place, and they all wanted to talk to her. Later, when yet another man stopped at the table, Tom took the opportunity to say he had leave. For the second time that evening, he led Annie outside.