Marta Perry (10 page)

She shrugged, evading his gaze. “Nothing. Everything—Aaron’s death, Samuel’s secrets, the rumors about my dad. Take your pick.” She hated sounding needy. “But I’ll deal with it.”

His fingertips brushed her shoulder, and she felt the touch even through her jacket. “I made a decision about the house.”

It was such an abrupt change of subject that she almost asked: What house? His stepmother’s property, obviously.

“What are you going to do with it? Not bulldoze it, I assume.”

His smile flickered. “I talked to your friend Colin McDonald. He did a walk-through of the place and made a list for me of what I’d have to do to put the place on the market.” He paused, glancing out at the stream. “I never thought too much of Colin in school, but he’s turned into a good guy. Even put me in touch with the contractor and electricians I’ll need.”

“He is a good guy, or Rachel wouldn’t be in love with him,” she said. “So you’re fixing it up to sell. Won’t that be expensive?”

“I can manage, and it’s the best option.” He focused on her face, his fingers closing on her shoulder. “Thing is, if it hadn’t been for you, I’d probably still be avoiding the place.”

She could feel her skin warm under the intensity of his gaze. “You’d have come to grips with it eventually. Maybe I just pushed it along.”

“You helped me. Now I want to help you. Don’t tell me you can handle it. Tell me what’s going on inside.” His voice was low, compelling, and she couldn’t help but remember how she’d once told him all her dreams, the things she didn’t say to anyone else. He’d never betrayed her trust.

She blew out a long breath. “I just... I feel as if I’ve opened such a can of worms. If Rachel and I hadn’t started talking about that summer to begin with, none of this would have happened. Now Sarah is desperate to learn the truth, and Aaron’s parents are grieving all over again thinking he might have killed himself. My friendship with Samuel is gone, probably beyond repair, and these rumors about my dad just eat at me.” She didn’t realize she’d been twisting her hands together in her lap until Zach clasped them firmly in his. She shook her head. “Sorry.” Her voice choked on the word.

“No need to be sorry. It’s not your fault.”

“It is.” She couldn’t absolve herself that easily. “What if it turns out Samuel is somehow involved? It would destroy him, as well as my relationship with my dad’s family. I wish I’d never started this. I should have thrown that scrapbook away the day I found it.”

“If you had, the truth would have come out some other way. That’s the thing about the truth—it always does surface.”

“You can’t be sure of that.” She had a flash of anger at his uncompromising tone.

“It’s what I believe. And it’s what you believe, too, Meredith, no matter how you try to deny it. Am I right?”

She closed her eyes for a second, wishing she could see a way out, but she couldn’t. So she focused on Zach’s face. His words might have been blunt, but his eyes were filled with compassion.

“Yes, I guess you are. But what do I do now?”

“We,” he said. “We follow the evidence. That’s all we can do. It’s too late to go back to before you knew any of this.”

He was right—annoyingly so. “I guess the only way out is straight ahead, no matter how guilty I feel.”

His fingers brushed her cheek, setting up a trail of warmth. “Plenty of people go through life never feeling guilty for anything. Thinking the bad things that happen to them are always someone else’s fault. Not you.”

“No.” She hesitated, wanting to tell him a memory she had never told anyone. “When I was little...” She stopped, staring unseeing at the water, her courage failing. Better to leave it unsaid.

Zach touched her chin, tilting her face so that she couldn’t help looking at him. “When you were little,” he prompted.

“My parents used to argue after I was in bed at night. Well, my mother argued. My father just tried to avoid it. They didn’t realize I could hear them.”

“Don’t stop.” The words were barely more than a whisper, but they seemed to move across her cheek on his breath.

“My mother was yelling at him over something. She said that I was the only reason he’d married her. The only reason he stayed with her. He didn’t deny it. They made each other so unhappy, and I was responsible.” She shook her head before he could speak. “I know, in my head, that it’s not my fault. I couldn’t have done anything about being born. But in my heart... Well, my heart gets in the way of logic.”

“Hearts seem to do that.” His voice was husky. “Believe me, I know.” Without warning he kissed her, pulling her close, his lips alive and warm and urgent on hers.

Her arms slid around him, feeling warm, solid muscle. She held on, letting sensation wash everything else away. She didn’t want anything else but this.

Finally Zach pulled back a little so that he could see her face. He was smiling, and she suspected she looked stunned.

“You know what I want?”

She shook her head, almost afraid to ask.

“I want to stop sneaking around with you as if we were teenagers again. I want to go out on a real date with you, like any two normal adults would. You think we could manage that?”

Maybe it was a good thing that was all he asked. She wasn’t in any shape to say no to anything. “I guess so.” She pushed thoughts of her mother away firmly. She’d handle it somehow.

“Good.” He rose, taking her hands to pull Meredith to her feet. “Monday night, around seven. We’ll have one evening out and pretend we’re like anyone else. Okay?”

“Okay.” She suspected he could read her feelings written all over her face, and right now she didn’t care.

CHAPTER TEN

W
AITING
UNTIL
THE
latest possible moment to tell her mother about her dinner date with Zach was only sensible, Meredith kept telling herself. It would give Margo less time to work up a head of steam, less time for her endless reproaches. On the other hand, maybe she was just being a coward about it.

Well, time was up now. Zach would be coming for her in a little more than an hour. She had to get ready. Taking a deep breath, Meredith walked into the house with what she hoped was a confident stride. Work had taken her out all afternoon, but now she had no excuses left.

“Mom?” Meredith paused in the hallway to set down her laptop bag. Her mother wasn’t in the living room, but cooking aromas wafted from the kitchen. She followed the smell.

“Meredith, there you are.” Her mother closed the oven door on what looked like a chicken casserole, her cheeks pink from the heat. “Supper will be ready in fifteen minutes or so.”

“It smells wonderful.” Her mother was an excellent cook, but often she preferred soup and a sandwich for supper, saying it was too much trouble to make a whole meal just for the two of them.

“Chicken with mushrooms and rice. How was your afternoon? You were at Hammond’s, weren’t you?”

Her mother seldom showed an interest in her work, but clearly she was in a good mood today. Was that going to make it easier or more difficult to tell her something she wouldn’t like?

“Victor wanted me to look over the computer files and be sure his clerk was entering the figures properly. She still acts as if the computer is going to bite her, I’m afraid.”

Victor had actually looked surprised to see her, as if he’d forgotten she was coming. He’d given her a quick nod and scuttled away, shutting himself in his office, leaving her to deal with Betsy Long, the computer-shy clerk.

Her mother sniffed. “He should know better than to expect Betsy to master something new at her age. She never was very bright.” Her mother tossed her oven gloves on the counter. “Was Laura at the office today?”

“Laura?” As far as Meredith could recall, she hadn’t ever seen Laura take an interest in Hammond Groceries. “No, she never seems to come in. Why would you think that?”

Mom shrugged. “No reason. I just stopped by the Hammond house this afternoon, and the housekeeper said she wasn’t home.”

The housekeeper might be a convenient buffer if Laura didn’t want visitors, or if Victor didn’t particularly want her to have visitors, for that matter.

More surprising was the fact that her mother had gone anywhere this afternoon. Usually she took a nap, unless one of her several card clubs was meeting.

“What did you want to see Laura about?”

“The Historical Society is doing our fall membership drive. I thought Laura might like to join us. It’s not as if she has anything else to occupy her time.”

Meredith recognized the slightly peevish tone with which her mother said the words. Nothing would convince her that people like the Hammonds didn’t look down on her, and it was a battle Meredith didn’t want to start. Not now, especially.

“I suppose you could have left a note for her,” she murmured, trying to think of the right way to frame what she had to say. It was all very well for Zach to talk about how she should be firm with her mother. He didn’t have to live with her.

“A note? Certainly not.” She opened the oven door to check the casserole again. “If Laura Hammond thinks she’s too good to answer her own door, I’m not going to pander to such foolishness.”

“You don’t know that Laura was there. And even if she was, she might not have been up to visitors.” She hesitated, but since no comment was forthcoming, she went on. “It’s sad that she has so many problems. She was very popular and outgoing as a teenager.”

“If by that you mean that everyone made a fuss over her, you could call it that. It’s no wonder she was spoiled. Everyone was fooled by that sweet act she put on, even your father. I remember him buying an ad in the yearbook just because she asked him and batted her eyelashes.”

That really wasn’t what Meredith had wanted to hear. “I didn’t realize Daddy knew her that well.”

“He was just as foolish over a pretty face as most men,” her mother said. She pulled on the oven mitts. “You can set the table. This is ready.”

Time was up. “I’m not eating in tonight, Mom. The casserole looks wonderful, though. Maybe we could—”

“Not eating in?” Her mother slammed the oven door. “Why not? The least you could do is let me know in advance so I wouldn’t have to go to all this trouble. Where are you going?”

Be firm, remember?
“Zach is taking me out to dinner.”

Her mother stared at her for a long moment, and Meredith braced herself for an explosion. To her amazement, it didn’t come.

“I suppose it won’t do any good to tell you how foolish you’re being. If you won’t consider my feelings about that man, there’s nothing else to say.”

Meredith knew her mother too well to suppose that she wouldn’t find something else to say, despite her words.

“Just don’t come complaining to me when he breaks your heart again.”

“I won’t.” Her mother might well be right about the state of her heart, but it was already too late to prevent that from happening. “I’d better get ready.” She fled for the stairs, relieved that the anticipated storm from her mother had been so mild.

An hour later Meredith came down, feeling as excited and nervous as a teenager going on her first date. Come to think of it, it had been a long time since she last went out with anyone. She smoothed her palms down the skirt of the rose silk dress she’d bought on a whim and never had an excuse to wear. Eligible males tended to be thin on the ground in Deer Run.

She glanced warily into the living room, half expecting to see her mother stretched out with an ice bag on her head. But Margo sat in her usual recliner, her slippered feet propped on the ottoman, an afghan spread over her legs. She looked settled for the evening.

“I’m going now, Mom.” She hesitated, hardly believing she was going to get out this easily.

Her mother’s gaze never left the television screen. “Lock the door when you go out. You know how I feel about being left alone here at night. Anything could happen.”

Useless to point out that no malefactors could possibly know she was alone. “I’ll lock the door.”

Headlights glanced off the glass of the front window as a car pulled into the drive, and her heart gave a ridiculous leap. She grabbed her bag and jacket and sped out the door, hurrying off the porch and looking for all the world as if she were escaping.

By the time she reached the car, Zach had come around to the passenger side.

“You don’t need to open the door for me,” she said. “I’m not helpless.”

His hand closed on the handle, keeping her from opening it. “If I let you get in yourself, the inside lights would come on,” he said. “And then I wouldn’t be able to do this.” He bent and kissed her, a long, leisurely kiss that left her breathless. “Now we’re ready to go.” He whispered the words against her lips and then opened the door.

She slid in, trying to control her racing heart. She’d been wrong. It wasn’t a matter of escaping. She was running toward something, not away.

* * *

M
ARGO
PULLED
ON
a sturdy pair of outside shoes, checking the clock as she did so. She had plenty of time until her appointment. She surveyed herself in the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door. Black slacks and a dark sweater ensured that she wouldn’t easily be seen by someone who might wonder what she was doing.

Meredith’s plans had saved her the trouble of sending her off with some excuse. Margo headed down the stairs, aware of a pleasurable sense of excitement.

Of course, nothing might happen. Still, she had a good feeling about this. She’d spent several days practicing the wording of her note. This would work.

It had given her an unpleasant jolt when Meredith realized she’d been in the office, but she’d needed the scrap paper Meredith kept there to formulate her thoughts before she wrote the note. And she’d been careful to print the final draft on an ordinary notebook page and use plain envelopes. No point in giving herself away before she had to.

Margo headed for the kitchen, leaving the television playing to make it appear she was inside. A little shiver went through her as she took the flashlight from the drawer and checked to be sure it was working.

She’d have preferred to set up this meeting in another place, at another time. But if what she suspected was true, then that truth would come out most easily at the place where it had happened.

She opened the back door, stepped outside and just as quickly stepped back in. She hadn’t realized how chilly the nights were getting. Meredith’s tan windbreaker hung on a hook by the door, so she pulled it on. She was ready.

Once outside, she went down the porch steps carefully. She didn’t want to switch the flashlight on before she had to. No point in rousing the attention of the neighbors.

The sound of her footsteps on the driveway was lonely, and she darted a quick glance around. She seldom went out after dark other than to a meeting or social event, and then she was in the car. But she was perfectly capable of doing this, and it would be worth it to know the truth.

Not that she’d do anything with it, necessarily, but it was high time certain people in this town realized they weren’t so superior, after all. Margo smiled, picturing the scene. She might be gracious, promising to keep the secret, but still, they’d always know that she knew.

Or maybe she’d tell Meredith, show her that her mother could be just as clever as she was. If she were the one who exposed the truth after all these years, everyone would realize they’d been underestimating her.

That pleasant picture gave her the courage to go on when the path wound through the brush. She had to turn the flashlight on there, but she shielded it as best she could with her hand.

A loud rustle in the weeds off to her right had her swinging the light around wildly. It was nothing, but her heart was beating too fast. She pressed her hand against it, forcing herself to be calm. It wouldn’t do to get excited. She was in control. She took a deep, even breath, waiting a moment before she went on.

Stepping into the clearing under the trees took courage, but no one could say that Margo King was a coward. She swept the beam of the flashlight around, searching the dark places under the trees.

“Are you here?” she called softly.

No answer. Well, she’d expected to be first to arrive. She advanced toward the pool, drawn irresistibly to the smooth, dark water. It looked so peaceful, with a sliver of moonlight making the surface shimmer like a mirror. People found it hard to believe it was so dangerous.

Margo focused the light on the water coming over the dam, looking as innocent as a frill of lace. A breeze ruffled the surface of the water, and Margo shivered. She checked her watch. It was time.

She’d wait ten minutes, she decided. If this didn’t work, she’d try something else. It might be—

The thought left her head at the sound of a step behind her. A surge of triumph flooded through her veins.

“I knew you’d come—”

Before she could turn, before she could raise the light, something struck the side of her head. The flashlight fell from her nerveless grasp.

She struggled, trying to deal with the wave of pain, trying to understand what was happening. But hands were pushing her, her shoes slipping in the wet mud. She couldn’t get her balance, she was falling—

The water closed around her in a cold embrace, soaking through her clothes, muddying her face, her hands...

She fought to push herself up, getting her face out of the water. She had to breathe, had to scramble out of the water, but hands forced her down, weight on her back, water stealing her breath, heart pounding and then...nothing.