Читать книгу Search the Dark - Marta Perry - Страница 13

CHAPTER THREE

ZACH HAD COME to the conclusion that being back in Deer Run had turned him into a coward. He’d tried to walk over to the old house after his meeting with Jake Evans, but he’d wimped out. Twice.

Too many bad memories—memories he’d effectively buried for years but never quite gotten rid of. His boss had been right. He should have come back years ago to settle up with Deer Run once and for all.

He walked down Main Street, not sure where he was going but knowing he didn’t want to go back to the bed-and-breakfast. He couldn’t leave, and he wasn’t ready to face the house yet. The tiny post office, its flag fluttering in the breeze, sat where it always had, and the imposing red brick of the bank still stood on the corner. There was a bench between them where a guy loitering to meet the girl he was forbidden to see could spot her coming out of her house.

He’d imagined that the years would make it easier—that he’d have forgotten Meredith and that he’d have come to terms with his father. Instead, the shadow of his old man could still turn his spine to spaghetti. And as for Meredith...

When he’d seen her, the years had telescoped and he’d been a love-struck seventeen-year-old again. At least he hadn’t let her see that, he trusted.

Neither of them was the same person now, and imagining anything else could lead to disaster. He had to figure out how to make peace with his memories, and he’d better do it fast, because Meredith was walking down Main Street toward him.

He sucked in a breath, telling himself to play it cool. She hadn’t seen him yet. Her gaze was fixed on the sidewalk, and something had upset her usual equilibrium, setting a frown on her forehead and anxiety in the set of her jaw. It struck him that he might have been the cause, given how he’d spoken to her yesterday.

There was a difference between being cool and being cruel. He didn’t have the right to hurt her for decisions they’d made when they were seventeen.

He stepped into her path and she looked up, startled. Color flooded her cheeks.

“Zach. I—I didn’t see you.”

“What’s wrong?” They’d always been able to go to the heart of things with each other, and he didn’t figure he’d start making polite conversation now.

“Nothing,” she said quickly and then shook her head. “Well, nothing I can do anything about, in any event.” She seemed to brush aside whatever it was, or at least table it until later. “Have you taken care of the business you had to deal with?”

“I’ve made a start.” He shrugged. “According to Jake Evans, you can’t just toss a house in the trash if you don’t want it.”

Meredith studied his face, and he had the sense that she was seeing beneath the surface, just like she used to do. She’d always been able to glimpse the person behind the tough-guy façade.

“The house where you grew up, you mean?”

He couldn’t keep from grimacing. “It came to me after my stepmother died, it seems. I don’t want it.”

“You don’t want it because the property is a tie to Deer Run, I guess.” Her direct gaze wanted the truth.

“Maybe.” But that was putting too much of the burden on her. “But mostly because the place holds a lot of bad memories. My childhood isn’t something I care to be reminded of.”

That had been one of the best things about starting a new life in a different place. He hadn’t had to deal with the constant reminders.

“What are you planning to do with it, since throwing it away isn’t an option?” The curve of her lips invited him to see the humor in the situation.

He didn’t. “I figured I’d put it on the market cheap and get rid of it, but according to Evans, it won’t sell in the shape it’s in.”

Meredith nodded, the tiny frown line back between her brows, for his problem this time. She shoved a strand of hair behind her ear, and his heart jolted. She’d always done that when she concentrated on something.

“You can trust Jake to give you an honest opinion, I’m sure. Everyone says he’s become a good attorney.”

“He claims his father is the exception to that opinion,” he said, just to see her face lighten.

Her smile flickered. “Jacob Senior is proud of his son, but of course he can’t admit such a thing. His gruff predictions of imminent disaster when Jake takes over are just a smoke screen, and everyone knows it.”

“Must be nice to have a father like that.” His old man had meant every word of the things he’d said to him, most of it stuff he certainly couldn’t repeat to Meredith, of all people.

As always, she saw behind his words to the meaning. Her hand moved tentatively, as if she wanted to reach out to him.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was soft.

“Yeah. Well, it’s over and done with. I don’t suppose there were many people who thought Wally Randal was much of a loss when he died.”

“You didn’t come back for the funeral,” she observed.

“You were there?” That shocked him. He hadn’t known about it in time, but if he had, he still wouldn’t have come. But Meredith had gone. “Why?” Because of him?

“I...thought I should attend.” She looked so uncomfortable that he let it go.

“I heard about your dad’s passing.” Courtesy of Jeannette, who seemed convinced he wanted to hear every scrap of news about what had happened in Deer Run since he left. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” Her face was composed, but her eyes were shadowed. “It’s been a long time, but I still miss him.”

Zach’s heart twisted. “I know you were close.” He’d admired John King’s devotion to his daughter, even though that devotion had once made him Zach’s enemy.

Meredith stepped aside to let a woman carrying a shopping bag pass, nodding a greeting. She didn’t speak again until the woman was well out of earshot.

“There was something I wanted to say to you, Zach.” Her brown eyes were candid, fixed on his face. “Maybe I’d better say it now, since I don’t suppose you’ll be in town long.”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear whatever it was, but he nodded.

Meredith hesitated, and for a moment he thought she looked more like the girl she’d been than the polished woman she was now. That glimpse kicked him right in the heart.

“I want you to know how sorry I am for what my mother did to you.” She seemed to force the words out. “She thought she was protecting me, but that’s no excuse. She drove you away from your home, kept you from finishing high school...” Her voice trembled slightly. “And I hurt you, too. I can’t expect you to forgive me, but I wanted you to know how much I regret what happened.”

She pressed her lips together, and he knew that it had cost her a lot to say what she had. How much easier it would be for her to pretend the past had never happened, to greet him politely and then avoid him until he disappeared again. But Meredith had never been one to take the easy way. He’d admired that quality years ago, and he still did.

“It’s all right. I mean it. Getting out of Deer Run was the best thing that could have happened to me. Your mother didn’t intend to, but she did me a favor.”

She managed a faint smile at that idea. “It’s good of you to take it that way. But I let you down, too, and I’m sorry.”

He had to take the guilt from her face, even at the cost of a lie. “Forget letting me down. What did we know about life at seventeen? The way I see it, you kept both of us from making a big mistake, right?”

Her face was immobile for a moment. Then her lips moved in a stiff smile.

“Right.” She glanced around, as if to be sure no one was watching them. “I’d better get back to work. If I don’t see you again, have a safe trip back.”

She turned and walked quickly away.

* * *

AS SHE HEADED up the steps to the wide front porch a few minutes later, Meredith couldn’t help hoping that her mother wasn’t back yet from her committee meeting. If the local rumor mill had already reported her conversation with Zach, she’d have to listen to her mother’s laments, lectures and warnings all over again.

More importantly, Meredith didn’t want her mother’s sharp eyes zeroing in on how upset she was.

Her luck was out—Mom sat in her favorite upholstered rocker in the living room, her low-heeled pumps propped on the small ottoman. “Meredith, you’re finally home. I was starting to worry about you.”

What did she imagine could happen to Meredith in Deer Run in broad daylight? Maybe exactly what had happened—an encounter with Zach.

“How was your meeting?” Meredith paused in the archway. She wanted nothing so much as to disappear into her bedroom or her office and close the door, but that would be inviting her mother to follow her with questions.

“Fine, fine. We’re all ready for the sale tomorrow.” Her mother’s lips tightened, accentuating the fine lines. “Though why Jeannette imagines she’s in charge, I don’t know.”

“You know how she is.” Meredith kept her tone soothing, fearing the subject of Jeannette would lead inevitably to Jeannette’s current guest. “She thinks nothing will go well if she doesn’t have her hand in it.”

Her mother sniffed, not mollified. “She thinks she knows more than anyone else, too. She actually had the nerve to ask me if you’d talked to Zach Randal yet. Nosy woman. I can’t stand gossips.”

If her father were here, he’d be exchanging a secret smile with Meredith about now. He’d known perfectly well that Margo was fully engaged in the silent, secret battle that went on among much of Deer Run’s female population to be the first to know what their neighbors were thinking and doing. Or thinking about doing.

There didn’t seem to be any useful comment she could make. “I’m going to change clothes before I settle down to work.” She turned toward the stairs.

“Wait.” Her mother straightened, moving her feet to the carpet. “You didn’t tell me where you’ve been.” There was a slightly sharper edge to her voice than her usual curiosity.

“I was up at the Hammond place. I spoke with Victor.” Since she’d set up the bookkeeping system for the Hammond grocery stores, her mother wouldn’t be surprised. And she had spoken to Victor, after all.

“Did you see Laura? How is she?” Mom, along with most of the village, was insatiably interested in Laura’s frequent visits to rehab.

“She seemed fine.” That was really a whopper, wasn’t it? Laura was definitely not fine. “She showed me her roses, and they’re going to send some flowers for the stand in the morning.”

A few more steps, and she’d be on the stairs.

“Wait,” her mother said again. “There’s a bag inside the door. Something Rachel dropped off for you. That scrapbook you girls kept when you were little.”

In other words, she’d checked the contents. Well, stopping her mother’s curiosity was about as likely as stopping the wind from blowing.

“Thanks, I’ll take it up with me.” She slid the scrapbook out, handling it cautiously. The pages were browned and brittle after all these years.

“I suppose this means you’re thinking about the Mast boy’s drowning again.” Her mother stood in the archway, one hand on the brass latch of the pocket door. “I don’t know what you think you’ll find out after all these years.”

Meredith tried to mask her surprise. Was that just a general comment, or had her mother somehow learned what Sarah had asked of her?

“I’d just like to hold on to the scrapbook.” She cradled it in her arms. “That’s all.”

“You weren’t even here that night.” Her mother went on as if Meredith hadn’t spoken. “Spending the night with some of your cousins, as I recall. So you couldn’t know anything about what happened. Any more than your father could. He was out that night, too.”

She’d heard often enough how her mother had been alone in the house the night Aaron Mast had died not more than a hundred yards away. It was a frequent refrain when her mother didn’t want to be left alone in the evening.

“That’s true. I don’t know anything about it.” And she was beginning to think it was best that way. What right did she have to probe into other people’s private grief? She ought to tell Sarah there was nothing to find and let the past rest.

Her mother nodded, but she didn’t return to her chair. “When is that Randal boy leaving?” she asked abruptly.

Meredith’s heart clenched at the sudden introduction of his name, although she hardly thought the man Zach was now deserved to be referred to that way.

“I don’t know.”

“Why not? You talked to him.”

“He didn’t say. He has some business to take care of. I suppose he’ll leave when it’s finished.” And that was another piece of the past that she should lay to rest.

She walked quickly to the stairs. “I really have to get to work now, Mom. We’ll talk later.” She hurried up toward the sanctuary of her room, relieved not to hear her mother’s plaintive voice behind her.

Once the door was closed she leaned against it, closing her eyes. Strangely enough, now that she could cut loose, she no longer felt the urge to cry.

Zach had made his feelings clear—he was glad she had refused to go away with him. So all the guilt she’d been holding tight had been unnecessary. He apparently considered that he’d had a narrow escape.

She should be happy. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem able to convince her heart of that fact.

Meredith crossed the room, carrying the scrapbook, and slid it into a drawer of the maple desk Dad had bought for her when she outgrew the frilly pink bedroom of her childhood. The desk, along with the maple sleigh bed and chest of drawers, had been made by an Amish furniture craftsman, and the star quilt had been a gift from Sarah’s mother, a little touch of her Amish heritage in a house that was otherwise decorated in her mother’s taste.

As for the scrapbook, she’d study it later. Or not. Without thinking, she looked out the back window toward the dam, catching just a glimpse of the water through the trees.

Hadn’t she already decided that poking about in the past was too hurtful? It was time she buried the events of that summer.

Meredith reached out, automatically straightening the milk-glass vase her father had won for her at the county fair when she was ten. It had stood on her desk ever since, filled with pens and pencils. Her hand rested on the desk blotter, and she frowned. She always kept it aligned with the front edge of the desk, but now it was pushed a good two inches back.

Still frowning, she let her gaze scan the desk surface, the bookcase, the dresser with its embroidered scarf. Her mother thought she was too methodical, too organized, as if that was a fault, or too masculine a trait. But she liked order, and she found it soothing to see things in their proper places...things like the hand mirror, which belonged on the right side of the dresser, not the left. And she’d never leave the top drawer slightly open like that, caught on a frill of lace.

She went to the dresser, her heart thudding uncomfortably, and yanked the drawer open. Someone had been in her room. Someone had disarranged things in his or her search.

She glanced at the window again, feeling as if a shadow had reached out of the past to touch the present.

But that was ridiculous. She didn’t have to look very far to find out who had searched her room. No doubt it had been her mother, looking for evidence of her nonexistent affair with Zach.

She closed the drawer firmly. Irritation burned in her, urging her to confront her mother about this invasion of her privacy.

She fought back the indignation. Did she really want to open that subject with her mother? And did she want to deal with the inevitable consequences of a scene with her mother?

Better to do what she always did. Better to swallow her annoyance, put on a pleasant face and deny her feelings. She was getting almost frighteningly good at that.

* * *

MEREDITH CHECKED TO BE SURE there was still decaf in the coffeepot, in case anyone wanted a second cup, and switched off the light over the kitchen sink. Her image, reflected in the window, disappeared, and she stood looking out at the lawn and the strip of woods beyond as dusk drew in.

From the living room she could hear the chime of her mother’s laughter. Dr. Bennett Campbell had stopped by, and the two of them were playing a game of dominos. As good an excuse as any, Meredith supposed, for an exchange of local gossip and the mild flirtation that had gone on between the two of them for years.

Bennett had closed down his medical practice a few years ago, but he was always ready to listen and sympathize with Mom’s complaints. He’d describe himself as a family friend, probably, but Meredith had always believed he didn’t care much for her. She was too sensible and practical, too much like her father. Bennett, ridiculously old-fashioned for his age, liked women who were frilly and flirtatious, and who at least pretended to be a bit helpless when there was a man around.

Still, she had to be grateful to Bennett for tonight’s visit, since it removed the temptation to confront her mother about searching her room.

A flicker of movement from outside caught Meredith’s eye, and she leaned forward for a better look. Someone had come down the drive, apparently, and was headed toward the path to the pond. A faint uneasiness touched her, moving like a breeze across her skin.

People did come through this way, even though it involved walking across their property. She wouldn’t ordinarily say anything, but something about the way that figure drifted silently along...

Her breath caught. She recognized the shape and the movement. It was Laura Hammond.

What was Laura doing here? She rarely went out at night, and certainly not alone and on foot. The unease strengthened to concern. With a quick glance toward the door to the living room, Meredith slipped out onto the back porch.

Dusk drew in earlier now, and the air had cooled down from this afternoon’s balmy seventies. She should go back for a flashlight and jacket, but something insisted she hurry. Laura was already disappearing into the trees.

Meredith walked swiftly across the back lawn. Daylight lingered enough here to make the way easily visible, but shadows gathered beyond, where the path wound toward the dam.

Laura had every right to go there, but at the risk of appearing a hopeless busybody, Meredith knew she couldn’t ignore this visit. Certainly Victor didn’t know Laura was heading for the spot where she used to meet Aaron, the place where Aaron died.

The woods closed around Meredith once she reached the path. She could call to Laura, but the same impulse that had compelled her to follow also urged her to silence.

A thought struck her, nearly taking her breath away. What if Laura was meeting someone else there, where she’d once met Aaron? Her step faltered. Well, if so, Meredith would have to hope she could slip away undetected.

Her sneakers made no sound on the soft earth, and only the faint rustle of the weeds on either side of the path disturbed the stillness.

A branch snapped somewhere off to her left, and her heart stuttered. Foolish. An animal, probably.

She could see the surface of the pool now, gleaming through the trees, and she slowed, coming to a cautious halt when she reached the edge of the clearing. She drew in a breath. Where was Laura? The path didn’t lead anywhere else, but the clearing lay empty before her.

A sound drifted through the air—a kind of tuneless humming that started and stopped. As Meredith’s eyes adjusted to the dark she spotted Laura, sitting on a log in the shadow of the big oak that overhung the dam. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, and she rocked back and forth, as if in time to some music only she could hear.

Meredith approached slowly, trying not to startle her. “Laura?”

Laura didn’t turn, but the slightest movement of her shoulders acknowledged Meredith’s presence.

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” Some instinct kept her voice soft, her movements slow.

She sat down next to Laura on the log, feeling the rough bark even through her khakis. Laura was wearing a short-sleeved sweater and a soft, full skirt—hardly the apparel for walking in the woods.

“I come...sometimes.” Her words were as soft and fragmented as the tune she’d been humming. “I...” She seemed to lose focus for a moment. “I’m waiting.”

Meredith pressed her hands against the log, grateful for the bite of the texture grounding her. If she really wanted to find out what Laura knew about Aaron’s death, this might be the only opportunity she’d have.

“What are you waiting for?”

Laura’s forehead puckered. “I don’t remember.”

She was on something, Meredith felt sure. The slightly slurred speech, the unfocused stare... Still, it might be a medication that had been prescribed for her. Even so, she shouldn’t be out here alone, and the pity Meredith felt for her overwhelmed her desire to question the poor woman.

“It’s getting chilly, and you don’t have a jacket. Why don’t you come in the house with me? I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

“That’s very kind of you.” From somewhere, Laura pulled up the appropriate response. “But I can’t go yet. I have to tell him something.”

“Tell who?” She thought she already knew the answer, and a chill settled inside her.

“Aaron, of course.” Laura looked at her, an expression of surprise on her face. “You know that. You know I have to tell him.”

Was Laura imagining that Meredith was one of her high school friends? Jeannette, maybe, who’d always been her best friend, even when they were teenagers. She’d always thought Jeannette an odd choice of best friend for the most popular girl in the valley.

“I don’t think he’d want you to wait out here in the cold, would he?” She took Laura’s arm, attempting to get her to her feet. “Let’s go back to the house.”

“I can’t.” Laura rose, but her voice rose, too. “You know I can’t. It’s important. I have to tell him. It changes everything. I have to tell Aaron.”

The chill seemed to expand, surrounding Meredith’s heart. Laura wasn’t talking about whispering a message to Aaron in the place he’d died. She was back there, twenty years ago, waiting for Aaron to meet her.

“Aaron? Where are you?” Laura called out, taking a step toward the dam and the foaming water.

Meredith caught her arm. “He’s not here. He couldn’t come tonight. You can tell him later.” She tugged at her, suddenly desperate to get Laura back to lights and warmth and other people.

Laura strained toward the dam. Meredith held on, afraid of what Laura might do if she let go. She needed help, she couldn’t cope with this alone—

The pressure on Meredith’s hand stopped. Laura stared at the water. And then she buried her face in her hands, her body trembling as she began to weep soundlessly.

Meredith wrapped an arm around her and hustled her toward the path. “It’s all right. Really. We’ll soon get you home. Everything will be all right.”

Nonsense words, and false besides. She didn’t think everything was going to be all right for Laura for a long time, maybe not ever. But the words were meant to comfort, and maybe they did that, at least.

They stumbled up the path. It wasn’t really wide enough for two, but Meredith was afraid to let go of the woman, so she walked through the weeds. Berry brambles caught at her pant legs, but she kept forging ahead, absurdly glad to see the lights of the house still on and even to see her mother and Bennett seated at the card table in the living room.

Bennett was a doctor. Maybe she should ask him for help with Laura.

But Bennett was also an incurable busybody, and if her mother saw Laura like this, it would be all over Deer Run by morning. Better just to put Laura in the car and run her home. Her mother would hear the car going out, of course, but Meredith could think of some explanation by the time she got back.

But she didn’t have her keys. She’d have to go in the house for them, risk having her mother hear what was going on—

A light stabbed her in the face, and she lifted one hand to shield her eyes, clutching Laura with the other.

“What are you doing with Laura?” Jeannette lowered the flashlight she held, rushing toward them like an avenging angel.

“Keep your voice down unless you want my mother and Bennett Campbell out here,” Meredith said in a furious whisper. “I was about to run Laura home.”

Jeannette shielded the flashlight with her fingers, letting out enough light to examine Laura’s face. The tears had stopped, thank goodness, but her face was still wet with them, and she’d begun humming again. Meredith’s heart clenched with pity.

“My car’s still out,” Jeannette said abruptly. “I’ll drive her.”

Meredith nodded. She had no desire to face Victor with explanations. “I’ll help you get her to the car.”

Laura’s humming had been replaced with a soft murmur of words Meredith couldn’t understand. Did Jeannette? She glanced at Jeannette in the circle of light from the streetlamp as they crossed the road, but Jeannette’s face was expressionless. Maybe she was used to this. Being Laura’s best friend couldn’t be an easy task.

Jeannette steered them to her car, which was parked at the curb, and opened the rear door. Wordlessly they helped Laura inside. She promptly slid over to lie down on the seat. Jeannette closed the door.

“I’ll take it from here.” She yanked the driver’s door open. “Thank you.” The words were an after-thought, apparently. She started the car and drove off.

Meredith shivered, rubbing her arms as she watched the red taillights recede down the nearly empty street. It didn’t look as if anyone had noticed them. She’d better get inside before she was missed.

When she reached her own driveway again, she couldn’t help glancing at Jeannette’s place, and she sucked in a breath. She’d been wrong. Someone had noticed them. Zach stood in the upstairs window, and he was looking right at her.

Meredith turned and fled for the back door.