Harkham's Case (Harkam's #1) (31 page)

“Okay.”

He hugged her, and she sighed.

“Let’s arrange a flight and leave. Your dad doesn’t like me.”

“I’m not gonna lie. It’s true. But, hey, he doesn’t like anybody, especially people that want to be around me,” she said with a smile.

Adam arranged the flight and even called home to tell his dad where he was.

The conversation was shockingly quiet on Adam’s end, which couldn’t be good.

Mari wanted to hide in a corner while he dealt with his dad’s anger. Instead, she made sure to do a thorough sweep of her room, packing old books, music, jewelry and an old lavender lap quilt Grammy Cole had made for her as a baby. She might never return, so anything of value, she was going to take with her.

The final thing she snatched was her mom’s old wedding ring. Her fingers were bigger than her mom’s, so she slipped it onto her pinky.

“It’s not like that. We’ve already paid for tickets to get back home. You’ll see me tomorrow,” he told his dad.

She winced when a tear leaked out of the corner of his right eye.

Once again, it was her fault he was breaking rules and disappointing his family.

When he got off the phone, she grilled him about how he got here to northern Utah and who helped him.

It seemed Zach was very resourceful and very pro Adam-and-Mari-together-plan.

Worked for her, though she hated his dad was so irate over his disappearance.

A cab pulled up an hour later. Mari stood before the recliner, gave her goodbye and tried to say the rest of the things she usually avoided with her family—mainly her feelings toward them, even the positive ones.

“I’m sorry things haven’t ever been great between us, but there were some good things that happened this time. We got to actually eat a meal together.”

Her dad grunted and refused to look at her.

“And some of the clutter was removed, so we had more space,” she said. “I did it because I care about you. I’ll always care about you, Dad. No matter what.”

He shook his head, wearing a look of complete disgust with her. Clearly, her dad didn't want to hear it—any of it. His face grew redder than ever.

“See if I care if you ever come back!” her dad yelled, finally jerking his head in her direction.

Foooooooosh!

Her dad threw something at her head. Adam got in the way, and it smacked him right in the eye.

It was a can of beer, mostly full, and it sloshed all over his clothes.

Swaaaack!

Mari smacked her dad’s face as hard as she could and marched them out the door without another word.

“I’m so sorry!” she said over and over as she tried to wipe some of the fluid off Adam.

“It’s fine.” He chuckled. “I poured rain on you at school—now it’s my turn.”

She smiled. How appropriate. Her version of rain for him was beer.

They got in the cab and were driving away when Adam grabbed her hand, squeezed it and said, “I think you need to say bye to her. You may never come back.”

“I can’t.”

“I’ll get the teddy bear back out of your suitcase, and you can leave it at her grave site,” he suggested.

“She wouldn’t want that,” she protested, squirming in her seat.

“Did you ever say sorry to her family?”

“No, but—”

“Sorry makes everything better. If your dad had apologized back there for hurting my feelings by trying to hurt you, then I would have accepted. I would have felt less yucky inside. You should say it.” He kissed her cheek real quick.

“Will you hold my hand?”

He smiled with approval. “I
will
—the entire time.”

They told the cab driver they were going to make two stops along the way, and before she knew it, she was on her way to deal with more of the impossible issues that had for so long plagued her . . .

Chapter 16

Mari’s legs wobbled as she walked up the gravel walkway to the little trailer where Megan once lived. She leaned up against Adam the whole way—the entire ten feet to get there. His strength, his belief in her, would buoy her and keep her legs moving.

Whether her mouth would cooperate or not was another matter she’d deal with when the time came.

What was she supposed to say? I’m sorry I suck as a human being and was too lazy to watch your kid. But, hey, life happens?

She’d rather go back and bury herself next to Megan than say those cruel words.

Adam knocked on the door for her before she could catch her breath.

“It’s gonna be all right,” he told her.

Her head snapped toward him, her eyes flashing with liquid fear as tears began to gush. “
How
?”

“Because Megan will help you know what to say. She wants you to be better, just like I do.” He kissed the corner of her mouth and wiped it away with the pad of his thumb, the way she had for him so many times.

The door creaked open, and there stood Owen in some khaki shorts and a wife-beater.

“Mah-reee?” His voice was barely able to string her name together—it was so stilted and broken, it sounded like he was falling and begging for help.

“Yeah, I’m . . . I’m here,” she said with a shadow of a smile. “And I’m . . .” Adam put his arm around her back, settled his hand on her waist and squeezed. “I’m so sorry for what I did. I wanted you to know that.”

“She misses your daughter, and she bought her a teddy bear that she had wanted to give her at the funeral,” Adam added.

“Why didn’t you come?” Owen asked her, his face contorting with anguish and his lips trembling. “We waited for you. We waited a whole thirty minutes, but still . . . You didn’t come.”

Tears ran like raging floods down her cheeks. “You
what
?”

“We waited and waited. We all wanted you there so you could get closure. I was worried sick about you—and then you avoided us all. Were we that horrible to be around? We tried to be there for you,” Owen said, then lurched forward and grabbed her into a giant hug.

Adam joined in. “See? They love you!”

“No . . . I . . . My dad said you had forbidden me to go,” she said as she sobbed. “That you couldn’t stand the sight of me.”

“That was
my
dad saying that crap. And he didn’t mean it. He was so drunk off his ass when your dad visited—he didn’t know what he was saying.” Owen sighed and laughed through his tears. “All this time you thought we despised you?” He pulled away and cupped her cheeks with her hair between his hands and her face. The strands were damp from tears.

“Well, I . . . Yeah,” she admitted, biting her lip after.

“Damn, girl. You know it wasn’t your fault at all.
I’m
the
one
. I told you before we left to ignore her after you put her in the crib. And if I hadn’t been so adamant about Meg learning to self-soothe, she’d be alive today.” He stepped back and wrapped his arms around his torso. “The ironic thing is, we can’t seem to have any more kids. It took a long time before we even wanted to try again, but once we did, nothing occurred. We didn’t plan to have Meg—she just
happened
, like a blessing that fell straight out of the sky into our laps. She changed everything in our life. Everything. There were times I resented her—my stolen youth and wildness. Now I’d give anything to relive those twelve months with her, but without the drugs and partying. I’d do more with her, watch her little smile when I made goofy faces at her, enjoy her giggle when she stole food off my plate. I miss the little sounds she used to make when she’d drink her bottle and fall asleep on me. The few times I let her do that is what I treasure most. I tried to force her to be independent, and she couldn’t do that. She wasn’t ready, and it was my fault she found my spoon in her crib and choked on it.”

“Your what?” Adam asked.

“God, this is sick . . .” Owen groaned and dropped his head. He closed his eyes. “I sometimes hid my drug paraphernalia in her room. I must have dropped it in there. It was a teaspoon, and part of the handle had broken off since I’d practically destroyed the thing. She swallowed it. They found it in the autopsy. For some reason, they didn’t find a trace of drugs in her system.” He cleared his throat with a forced cough. “I should’ve served some serious jail time, but my dad and Mari’s found a way to cover things up and get me through it so I could stay with Claire and my family.”

Mari grabbed Adam into a sideways hug, clung to him like he usually did for her. Only much tighter. Her head tucked under Adam’s chin. “It was still my fault I didn’t check on her,” she said, her voice wavering.

“You were twelve, and you were being a good babysitter. You followed my instructions.” Owen glanced up at her and then back down. “It sickens me to think of what I used to be like. Did Vic tell you I cleaned up my act after she died?”

“No.” She blinked away a few more tears welling up in her eyes.

“Well, I did. It was hard. Harder than anything I’d ever done. I wanted to get lost and forget the pain more than anything, but Claire was willing to forgive me and help me through the rough days. I still really love her. She’s everything to me. Stronger than I’ll ever be. She’s the reason my life means anything at all,” Owen said so low she could barely hear him.

“Where is she? I want to apologize to her, too,” Mari said.

Owen shook his head. “She’s not here. Once a year she leaves to go visit her mom for a few weeks. She won’t be back until after Thanksgiving.” He sniffed.

“Can I write her a quick note then?” Mari offered.

“Sure.” Owen turned around, disappeared inside and brought back a little pad of paper and a pen.

Mari scribbled something quickly and gave him a parting hug. She shuffled back to the car while her head pounded and her heart ached.

“He was the only guy I ever loved. And after Megan died, I didn’t believe in love anymore.” She stared at the ground but didn’t see anything.

“The only guy you ever
l-l-loved
?” Adam stuttered. He swallowed with a clicking sound.

“Until you . . .” She clutched him to her chest, kissed him until she thought she’d fall over. So drained . . . “Now, what I felt for him seems like a bad joke in comparison.” She smiled.

He opened the car door, sat her on his lap and told the cab driver to take them to the cemetery.

The bear sat on the other end of the backseat.

He stroked her eyes, her cheeks, her lips—kissed her in those same spots with gentleness and understanding. He placed sweet breaths on her forehead and the top of her head. “See . . . I told you that you were all good. Every bit of you.”

“I thought I was only capable of being nice, not being good,” she said, her voice devoid of any emotion. Her whole body was limp like she was dead. Maybe the old Mari had to die in order to come back and be something new and different . . .

He hummed and rocked her, then after a while said, “Not my shining star. She’s filled with goodness and light.”

The car stopped a few minutes later, and though this part should be easier since Megan was dead and gone, it was more difficult to face.

Adam got out and waited with the door open, ready to help her out.

She folded in half, her head between her legs as she hyperventilated and heard nothing but a baby’s dappled cries in another room. Bile rose to the back of her throat as that green, sickly feeling overtook her.

She could almost feel the wind on her face as Owen drove her home with the windows down in his car, and could remember exactly how she’d smiled because she was so damn happy to be alone with him.

She had kissed him goodbye. He let her!

“Dammit! She didn’t deserve this!” she screamed, kicking the seat in front of her.

“Hey!” the cab driver yelled and wrenched himself around to glare at her.

Adam yanked her out, held her tight. Mari cursed, screeched and cried harder than ever. She beat her fists into his chest even though he made it almost impossible with his crushing grip on her. “I hate myself for this! I hate that she died, and I didn’t save her. I didn’t know!”

“I know you didn’t, sweetie,” he said, like she’d called him a few times. “She knows that, too.”

“She doesn’t! Nobody told her!” she cried.

“Let’s go tell her right now. Let’s make sure she knows what happened that night,” he said in a soothing, low voice.

She flopped into his chest, absorbing each of his breaths so she could gain some strength.

He brushed her hair off her face. “I want to tell you a story. There’s this beautiful woman—she’s even stronger than she ever thought she could be. She told me she’s been to hell, but I’ve seen her climb out on her own.” He kissed her mouth with a slow press, then withdrew even slower with a smile. “And I’m so proud of her.”

“You
are
?” Her chest hiccuped, threatening to break into wails again.

“More than anything.” His eyes were filled with compassion and adoration.

“I can do this,” she said to herself and nodded her head once. She tried to catch her breath.