The Reaping (The Reapers Book 1) (21 page)

“When exactly did your interest in Angelica begin, because…”

“Because I knew her before I knew you, and I kissed you.”

“Exactly.”

He sighed. “I know that seems totally weird and I’m not really sure I have the answer myself. The past couple of years, I’ve had some really, tragically bad experiences in the dating department, and I’d kind of sworn off dating and girls altogether. I noticed Angelica every time she walked into the bakery, and I thought she was cute and sweet, but that’s as far as it went, you know? Then Landon died, and I had the usual epiphanies you have when someone dies, and I decided I needed to get back out there. I asked you to dinner for completely platonic reasons, and I kissed you because you are a beautiful girl and…”

“I get it. You were putting yourself out there just to put yourself out there and then you saw Angelica again.”

“I felt drawn to her in a way that I hadn’t felt before, probably because I’m open to it now.”

“Careful, if you say that to Angelica, she’ll be investigating possible past lives in which you two had a relationship.” I tried to keep my tone light, but I wanted to make sure he was aware of the way Angelica viewed the world. It had caused problems in a couple of her previous relationships.

“No, actually she said that we have similar auras…or compatible auras…I don’t know. I like the way she looks at it. I could use a bit of happy magic in my life.” He looked out at the road and, while I watched him, his face tightened. “The truth is, sometimes I think I’m cursed. My sister, Rose, says that our whole family is cursed. I know she’s schizophrenic, but it doesn’t mean she’s wrong.”

“I don’t believe in curses, and I’m pretty sure Angelica can figure out how to break the curse if you really are.”

He didn’t smile. “She is so sweet and honest and happy. I’m not sure it’s fair of me to bring her into my dark world.”

That was a sentiment to which I could relate. I was opening my mouth to ask him for more details when he smiled and waved at someone. I looked up and saw Caleb across the street. Caleb waved back and kept walking away from us. “I’m sorry, Bruce. I should talk to him.”

Bruce smiled at me and nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

I jogged after Caleb, not quite sure what I was doing. Whatever we were to each other, I needed to make up for the rudeness I’d shown him and try to make things right. “Hey, Caleb,” I called.

He stopped and turned, but he didn’t smile at me. He just waited for me to catch up. “Hi, Kelsey. It looked like you and Bruce were having an intense conversation. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Um, yeah, you didn’t. I wanted to apologize—”

“No, you were right. I was rude and pushy and I’m sorry.”

“Yes, you were, but I was drunk and I was angry…I was in a bad mood for no good reason. I reacted badly. I’m sorry. And about this morning…”

“Don’t worry about it. You had plans. I understand.” His words were conciliatory but he didn’t smile and he didn’t meet my eyes. “And you should probably get back to your date now. I wouldn’t want to keep you from him.”

It occurred to me for the first time that Caleb might be jealous of Bruce. Even if he wasn’t, it was going to be obvious pretty soon that Bruce and Angelica were dating and if I continued misleading Caleb, I’d look like an idiot and a liar. “He’s not my date. In fact, he’s waiting for Angelica so he can take her out on a lunch date.”

He looked at me then, but he still didn’t smile. “Didn’t you two just go out?”

“Yeah, but it was pretty obvious he and I will never be more than friends, and even that will be seriously in question if he doesn’t continue dating Angelica.”

“You seem to get along well enough.”

“Sure, but I don’t think I would go out of my way to spend time with him, you know what I mean?”

Caleb smiled then. “Yeah, I do. What are you doing now? Do you want to grab lunch?”

I really wanted to go with him and laugh and forget about Landon and Reid for a little while, but I needed to check my make-up and make sure all my bruises were completely covered. I also needed to go to the police station to ask some questions and, possibly, recant my accusation against Reid. “I can’t right now, maybe…”

“Don’t worry about it.” He was already turning away from me. “Some other time.”

I wanted to stop him and explain, but there was nothing I could tell him that wouldn’t make him think I was crazy. So I watched him walk away, pretty sure that I had lost the second real, living friend I’d ever had.

I went back to the apartment, showered, and changed into my most comfortable jeans and sweatshirt. While I was in the shower, I debated again what to do about Reid. If I was lucky, he would see me enter the station and assume I was there to do what he’d asked me to do. I could tell the police that Reid had attacked me and claim the bruises on my face were from him, but I had no witnesses and no real proof. I couldn’t imagine it would do anything but make Reid angrier. I mean really, what would they do? Fire him? Put him in jail for a couple of days? Then he’d probably skip the permanent scarring and go straight to the killing.

The truth was, although I found his method of conveying his anger completely psychotic, I couldn’t blame him for being angry. He didn’t initiate the attack on me, and he shouldn’t have to pay for what Landon did. The only solution was to recant my story.

I walked to the police station and enjoyed the cold, crisp day. The afternoon was cooling off and the sky was filled with fluffy, dark clouds. It looked like we might get snow soon. I headed into the police station and asked at the front desk to see someone who could help me with an assault case from a couple of weeks ago.

The officer at the desk asked for a bit more information and then told me to have a seat in one of the two chairs in the waiting area. I sat there for an hour and a half, flipping through magazines that were three years old and trying not to catch the eye of the elderly male ghost pacing the waiting area, before I heard my name called.

As I stood, my legs felt stiff from sitting for so long and I did my best not to hobble after the officer who met me. He took me back to a quiet room with a table, a coffee maker, and not much else. He was an older man, probably old enough to be my grandfather, but he looked to be in fantastic shape and only the lines on his face made me suspect he was beyond fifty.

“You wanted to talk to me about the assault case in which one of our officers, Reid Thompson, assaulted you?” he asked as he sat across from me and gestured for me to sit.

I sat and nodded, doing my best to appear sincere and easygoing. “That’s right. I feel really bad about all of this. I was hit in the head pretty hard, and it’s only now that some memories are starting to resurface. I think that maybe Reid wasn’t the one who hit me.”

The officer nodded as though I had said that it looked like it might rain, jotted a few notes on a small pad, and then met my gaze. He smiled at me, but his eyes didn’t twinkle or dance. They were cold and unyielding, maybe a bit angry, reminding me that this man was not my sweet old grandfather but someone who could put me in jail for causing him too much trouble. “Has Reid been in touch with you? Has he threatened you in any way?”

“What? No.” The officer’s expression seemed to suggest that he knew I was lying, although he didn’t say a word. I’m a terrible liar. I quickly decided to go with a story closer to the truth. “I mean, I talked to him, but he didn’t threaten me. He just, um, he apologized and he swore that he didn’t beat me up. So, I tried to remember…I mean, I’ve been trying not to think about that day, but I don’t want to accuse the wrong guy…I just don’t remember Reid actually hitting me.”

“So what was Reid doing there?”

I was prepared for this question. “He must have been helping me. Someone else hit me and ran off, and he helped me.”

The officer nodded, but he didn’t make any more notes. “Uh-huh. So who did hit you then, Ms. Fitzhugh?”

Okay, now his tone had become obviously condescending. He was talking to me in that slow tone one uses for children.

“I don’t know. I don’t remember what he looked like, but I do remember him talking to me, swearing at me, I should say, and he didn’t sound like Reid. Maybe it was the same guy who shot Landon.”

The officer froze, and his face hardened. “What makes you think that Landon was shot?”

“That’s just what everyone is saying. I mean, that is what happened, isn’t it?”

“Landon shot himself, accidently. The nature of his death is public record, but his family has asked that we keep it as quiet as possible and I would ask that you do the same.” He cleared his throat. “To get back to your case, can you explain to me how the two young men who came to your rescue that night saw Reid hit you?”

“They didn’t see him hit me. They came in after…I mean, they must have seen Reid helping me up and made a mistake.”

“I see.” The officer pushed his seat back and started to stand. “If you think of any more pertinent details regarding your attacker, please let me know.”

“Are you going to remove my accusation against Reid?”

“I will investigate your claim more closely.” The officer stood and looked down at me. “I want you to understand, Ms. Fitzhugh, if we discover that you were trying to cover for Reid or lie for him, we could hold you guilty of a crime.”

For the briefest moment, I considered asking him to forget I’d ever been there, but there was no way for him to prove I hadn’t had a weird flashback of someone other than Reid hitting me, so I continued. “I’m just trying to piece it all together from my rather damaged memory, officer, and I don’t want the wrong man accused. I don’t mean to waste your time.”

His expression softened slightly. “It is not a waste of my time, Ms. Fitzhugh. I hope that your memory comes back and that you have a full recovery. Can you find your own way out?”

“Yes, thank you.”

I hurried out of the police station imagining that the cop I’d spoken to was now grumbling to his colleagues about the idiot girl who couldn’t remember who beat her up. I was embarrassed, and I was angry. When I hit the sidewalk, I broke into a jog and then a run, glad I’d worn my running shoes and lightest winter jacket. I couldn’t really blame the officer; he’d probably heard the same story a hundred times from different women who were beat up by their boyfriends or husbands. He looked at me and he saw just another statistic. His unwillingness to see me and hear my story was understandable, if wrong. Then again, it probably never crossed his mind that Reid could have been possessed by the ghost of my dead boss. If that scenario were a possibility in his universe, maybe he would have been a better listener.

I reached the apartment before I was ready to be home and took a couple of laps around the block. By the time I was ready to start a third lap, snow had started to fall and I had to worry about my make-up being washed off to reveal my bruises. I hurried inside, hoping that no one would be there so I could go straight back to my room and take a nap. Either Landon would show up and I could talk to him or I’d get some much needed sleep.

Unfortunately, I walked into my apartment to find Cat on the futon, a bottle in one hand and a joint in the other.

My first instinct was to be annoyed that I wouldn’t have the place to myself, but then I realized that a little hair of the dog might be exactly what I needed. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and joined her in the living room.

She scooted to the end of the futon near my chair and passed the joint to me. I took a long, slow inhale and handed it back. I immediately felt my body relax and had the happy thought that my mind would follow suit after only a couple more hits. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I hate to smoke alone,” she said as she passed the joint back to me.

“Where’s Angelica? She’s usually game for a few hits.”

Cat shrugged. “I haven’t seen her.”

“She must still be out with Bruce.”

“Bruce?” Cat accepted the joint with a confused look on her face. She was obviously more than halfway to stoned. “Aren’t you dating Bruce?”

I twisted the cap off my beer and took a long swallow. “Not a chance.”

“Does Caleb know that? Because he told me you were dating Bruce.”

“Why should he care who I am or am not dating?” I was tired and angry and frustrated, and maybe I have been a bit harsher than I’d intended.

“Wow, having a bad day, or mad at Caleb in particular?”

“No.” I sighed. “I mean, yes, I’m having a bad day. I’m sure you witnessed the argument I had with Caleb last night.”

“Kind of hard to miss.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. It’s just…well, he was being pushy, you know.”

“He can be pushy,” Cat said with a nod.

“Yeah, but it was also me.” I took another drink and thought about my next words carefully. I wasn’t ready to tell Cat the whole story, not when I thought she might have a thing for Caleb herself. Not when I wasn’t yet sure how I really felt about him, beyond the fact that I missed him. “I took some things too personally, mixed it up with some shit from my past, and kind of took it out on him unfairly. He was rude, but I understand that he was worried about me. I shouldn’t have kicked him out. The thing is, we were getting to be friends, and now I’ve screwed it up irreparably.”

“With Caleb, nothing’s irreparable. He’s very forgiving. He has to be with that temper of his. He’s pissed off more than a few people.”

I looked at her, really looked at her, without jealousy or rent concerns clouding my thoughts, and I put together what I knew about her. “You knew Caleb before you came here.”

Her expression hardened, but she quickly covered it with a smile. “He tell you that?”

“No, it’s just a guess based on the way you two are together and how well you seem to know each other.”

She took a long slow drag and handed the joint back to me. “We worked together last season at a different resort. We spent some time together.”

“You dated.”

She nearly choked on her beer. She coughed and wheezed for several minutes, took another swallow of beer, and laughed. “Fuck, no. He is so totally not my type.”