Secrets, p.5
Secrets, page 5
“But I am not in the missing persons business,” Cullen protested.
“That is true. But you know someone who is. And your sister knows things. Even when she doesn’t know what she knows.” Chi-Chi gave a little chuckle.
“OK. But how would the person who sent this know we have connections with people who look for missing people?” Cullen asked.
“Now, that is a good question,” Ellie replied.
“But Chris works with missing children,” Luna pointed out.
“Yes, but he has access to vast amounts of information.” Chi-Chi shrugged. “It might be a coincidence.” She looked at Luna. “What do you think?”
“I don’t believe in coincidences.” Luna stared blankly at the trunk. “But that doesn’t mean it was intentional either.”
Ellie looked perplexed. “I don’t understand. What do you mean it wasn’t intentional?”
“I mean the person who sent it was hoping Cullen could get it open and return the contents, so that same person could use whatever we find to find who they are looking for. It just so happens we know someone in the business of finding people.” Luna looked at Ellie. “Am I making sense now?”
“So you don’t think the sender knows about Gaines or your particular talents?” Ellie asked.
“Not necessarily. But for whatever reason, the universe brought all of this, and us, together. It’s called synchronicity. Simultaneous events with meaningful connections. And, together, we are going to figure it out.” Luna placed her hands on her hips, signaling she was on a mission, and that was that.
Chapter Four
Present day
Tori sat in her car for a good long while and hadn’t yet started the engine. She jumped when a woman knocked on the driver’s-side window. “You OK?” It was the nurse from Tori’s doctor’s office.
“Yeah. I mean yes. I’m good. Thank you.” She tilted her head slightly just enough to be convincing, without revealing her tear-stained face.
“You sure?” the nurse pressed. “You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine. Really.” She gave a slight wave and switched on the ignition, signaling she was fine. As she backed out of the parking space, the nurse continued to watch. Tori had a sinking feeling that the nurse had reservations about how “good” Tori was really feeling.
The nurse was surprised that Tori seemed overwrought about her pregnancy. But sometimes that happens, especially if it’s not planned and if you’re in your late thirties.
How did we get to this point? Tori wondered.
She wasn’t ready to go home. She needed time to think. She couldn’t have another baby. Not with him. Her job at the law firm paid well but not well enough for her to be on her own. Plus, he would never let her leave. Not without a fight. It would be ugly. His ego would not be able to take it.
Tori had been driving for almost an hour. She had no particular destination in mind. She was deep in thought, recalling the past twenty years, looking for the tipping point, the point at which things started to go south.
As expected, after they ran away, no one came looking for her. Them. His family was even worse than hers. Maybe that’s why they connected at such a young age. They commiserated. His father was a drunk. Her mother was a drunk. They would often joke that their parents should get divorced and marry each other. They were going to rescue each other from their lives in “Casa Aluminum.”
Dusk was setting in. The sudden ring from her cell phone caused her to swerve. Fortunately, no one else was on the road. She hit the Bluetooth button. Before she had a chance to say hello, the taut voice of her husband came through the speaker. “Where are you?”
“Running some errands. Sorry, hon.” Tori steadied her voice. “Everything OK?”
“Yeah. Fine. Just wondering where you’re at.” He softened a bit.
“Like I said, running errands. You need anything while I’m out?”
“Nah. I’m going to meet the guys at Ringo’s. Shoot some pool.” He was referring to the watering hole the local boys in blue frequented. That was one place where he could let loose and know his fellow officers had his back. It was understood. No one let anyone drive if they were trashed. They’d try to sober up whoever was “overserved,” at least to the point where they could walk, then someone would drive them home with another “brother” following in the sloshed person’s car. It wasn’t that often, but everyone seemed to bring some personal drama at one point or another. Cheating. Divorce. Loss of a loved one. Or it could be a cause for celebration. A “good collar,” getting engaged, having a kid.
Tori wasn’t about to give him a reason to celebrate. Not yet. Not tonight. She still had a lot of thinking to do. At that moment, she had to come up with an idea of what she was bringing home from her “errands.” She knew he would eventually ask. Such a control freak. Aha. There it was again.
“You gonna grab something to eat at Ringo’s?” Tori hoped he’d say yes.
“Probably. When do you think you’ll be back?”
If she pushed the speed limit, she could be home in an hour. She would also have to stop at a grocery store or a drugstore to have a bag with something in it when she returned.
“About forty-five minutes.” Tori knew he was not going to wait more than a half hour, so forty-five minutes was a safe time frame. If he was still home, she could always say she had gotten stuck behind a slow-moving vehicle. They had a lot of them where she lived. Tractors, mobile homes, wide loads. All common in that area.
“OK. If you’re gonna be that long, I’ll head over to Ringo’s now,” he said, his tone of voice signaling his indifference.
“Have fun.” Tori squeezed out her best attitude. She was truly relieved she could postpone the conversation, at least for a while. She showed no signs of being six weeks into her pregnancy, so she had a little time. Time to think. Something she had neglected to do a long time ago.
Tori took the next opportunity to make a U-turn and head home. She did a mental inventory of the refrigerator and the pantry. There were a few things she could use. Thirty minutes later, she was pulling into a supersized grocery store. It was three times the size of the one closest to home. She pulled into the massive parking lot and found a spot close to the entrance. It was nearly six. Dinnertime for most people, which meant the store wasn’t crowded. She grabbed a shopping cart, walked through the automatic doors, and pulled a sanitary wipe from the large dispenser that held a sign that read:
SAFETY STARTS HERE
She wiped the handle of the cart and continued into the large, well-lit store. It was like being in an amusement park for foodies. She was dazed for a moment, not being able to remember what she actually needed. The place made you think you needed a whole lot of everything.
There were separate sections for gluten-free, vegan, international, organic this, organic that. Nuts and seeds by the pound. As she made her way toward the dairy section, she was stunned by the selection of milk. At her neighborhood store they had skim, fat-free, whole, and one brand of soy milk. But here there were several brands of oatmeal, coconut, raw, goat, almond, cashew, soy, lactose-free, fat-free. Too bad it isn’t free milk. She laughed to herself. Then she thought about almond milk and chuckled again to herself. I wonder how you milk an almond? It struck her this was the most relaxed she had been all day. She felt anonymous perusing the aisles of the megastore and imagining herself creating wonderful meals. But for whom? They rarely shared a real meal together. He’d come home and take his dinner—pizza, whatever—and plop in front of the television. Forget inviting friends over for dinner. They hardly socialized except for parties with his work buddies and their wives. Sure, every summer they would barbecue, but that, too, wasn’t exactly an afternoon with Bobby Flay at the grill. Burgers, dogs, and sometimes sausage. She’d make a potato salad, and guests would bring other sides. Beans, macaroni salad, watermelon. Typical summer fare. The men would play horseshoes and drink beer, and the women would gab about their kids or the latest local gossip. Her life was a cliché.
As she passed through the enormous produce section, she overheard three women talking in the next aisle about an event they had recently attended. It featured that psychic-medium guy who used to have the TV show. He talked to dead people. Actually, they talked to him, and he’d convey the message to their loved ones. She listened intently, making every effort to appear not to be eavesdropping. Then one of them said, “I hear there’s a woman at the Stillwell Art Center who does readings. She runs a café or something.”
Another remarked, “Yes, but it’s only by referrals.”
A third voice asked, “How do you get one?”
“I’m not sure, but I was thinking of taking the kids there next weekend. They have a place where you can watch them blow glass, make baskets, throw pottery.”
“Oooh, artsy,” one of the women said in a mocking tone.
“They also have a sandwich shop and an outdoor area for dogs.”
“What about kids?”
“They say that the kids get a kick out of watching the artists at work. I dunno. But I thought I’d give it a shot.”
“Let me know how it goes and if you get in to see that psychic person.”
“Will do! See you at the soccer game.”
Lots of “byes” and “see yas.”
As the other women went their separate ways, Tori was staring into space. Maybe that’s what she needed. A good psychic. A medium. Whatever they’re called. She wondered how she could find out more about it. Her. Maybe she, too, would take a little trip to the center on her day off, which was Saturday and Sunday. She then realized she would have to explain to her husband why she was going to an art center. Too many questions. She could take a personal day during the week. Tori worked at a small law firm as an assistant. There were three partners in the firm, and they rotated taking Wednesdays off. She could coordinate with her boss.
Luckily for Tori, she was well organized. She had to be. At the age of ten, she was the adult on duty. If it weren’t for Tori, her little brother J.T. wouldn’t have a clean pair of pajamas. There would be no meals, no lunch to take to school. In spite of the lack of adult supervision, Tori ran an efficient household. Her father would hide cash in one of the hutches for food and supplies. Only Tori knew where the money was hidden. Her father made sure of that. He didn’t want Tori and J.T.’s mother spending it on booze. Yes, Tori had the sense and organizational skills out of sheer survival. But planning ahead for herself? There was never any time for that.
Tori thought about J.T. She wondered where he was. How he was. It stunk, not having a family. Even if she hadn’t run away, she still wouldn’t have a family. Sure, she had one parent and a brother. But that didn’t constitute a family. They were simply human beings sharing some of the same DNA, bound together legally, and existing under the same roof. She really thought her life would be different by now. Maybe it wasn’t too late. She prayed it wasn’t too late.
Tori took one more spin through the bakery department. A woman was handing out samples of something called rugelach. It was a small crescent pastry swirled with a cinnamon filling. The buttery flakes melted in her mouth. The sign read:
$20.00 DOZEN
She hesitated, but then she decided she was worth at least six little cakes. If he knew she was spending ten bucks on what he would consider cookies, he’d have a cow. But Tori had a flash of confidence. So what. Too bad. She marched up to the counter and placed her order. As she glanced at her reflection in the bakery case, she could have sworn she had grown a couple of inches taller. Must be the sugar. She smiled to herself. Things were going to be different. She wasn’t sure how, but she was determined to fix her life. Then she remembered something someone had once said. “You can’t fix people. You can only fix yourself.”
Tori took the white paper bag from the woman behind the counter, thanked her, and smiled. Who would have thought a small mixture of buttery dough and cinnamon could cause an epiphany? She was going to approach things a little differently now. Sure, he’d think she was being the obedient wife, but two can play at the manipulation game.
She pushed her grocery cart toward the deli section and ordered a half pound of bologna and a half pound of American cheese. She never understood why that was her husband’s favorite sandwich. He’d be thrilled. Frankly, she didn’t care if he was thrilled or not, but this was the first step in taking back some of her own power. Since she had been a strong ten-year-old child, she could be a mighty thirty-eight-year-old adult. Tori could hear him bragging at work, “Hey, look what the old lady made for me.” God, how she hated that expression. Old lady, my ass.
Chapter Five
Stillwell Art Center
The same day
Cullen placed the blanket and its contents on his long worktable. “I’ll get to the diary lock tomorrow.”
Luna frowned.
“Listen. I know that as soon as I get it open, you’ll be digging into it like an archeologist. You’ll be engrossed for hours. Days,” Cullen said evenly. It wasn’t the first time he had had to convince his sister to take it easy. Slow down. “Besides, I don’t know about anyone else, but I could use some dinner. It’s past six.”
“And I have to get Marley and Ziggy home before my board meeting,” Ellie said.
“I’d be available to get something to eat.” Chi-Chi hoped she hadn’t crossed a line. It wasn’t unusual for all of them to share a meal, but when it came to Cullen, she always waited to be invited. She also had her own crush going on.
Luna still stood with her arms akimbo. “Huh. Traitors.”
Everyone chuckled as Chi-Chi linked her arm through Luna’s. “Come, girl. You need to make sure you are robust for this new puzzle.”
Luna shook her head and pulled Chi-Chi toward the café entrance. “Gotta lock up.” Luna felt her cell phone vibrate in her apron pocket. When she reached in and saw the caller ID, she stopped in her tracks. “Whoa.”
“Something good?” Chi-Chi asked with a playful grin.
“I . . . it’s . . . him.” Luna began to blush.
“Well, don’t be stupid, girl. Answer it.”
Luna took in a deep breath. “Well hello, Marshal Gaines. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Her eyes went wide at Chi-Chi, as if asking, “Did I do that all right?” Chi-Chi gave her an encouraging nod.
Gaines cleared his throat. “Hello, Luna-tic.” Luna could hear the smile in his voice. “How are you?”
“Very well, thank you. And yourself?” She was trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.
“Great. Listen, I know it’s short notice, but I am heading back to Charlotte, and I have to pass through Asheville. Any chance you guys are free for dinner?”
“Funny you should ask. Cul, Chi-Chi, and I were about to head out for a bite to eat after we take Wiley home. Where are you now?”
“Just outside of Weaverville. I wasn’t sure what time I would be nearby; otherwise, I would have phoned sooner.” He paused. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Of course not! We would be delighted.” Emphasizing the “we.” Her palms were getting sweaty.
“I’m about twenty minutes away. Should I meet you somewhere?”
“Sure.” Luna walked toward the mirror over her small utility sink. She wasn’t exactly spruced up, and gave Chi-Chi a look of horror. Chi-Chi waved her off and mouthed, “You look fine.”
“Copper Crown OK with you?” Luna asked, as she fussed with her hair.
“Sounds good. See you there.” Gaines clicked off the call, relieved that she was willing to meet. He had driven six hours before he had found the nerve to call her. After knowing Luna for almost a year, he still got all stupid. At least that was his own perception of things. Perhaps if they lived closer, their relationship, such as it was, would have blossomed faster. Sooner. On the other hand, they both had a lot going on in their lives. Slow and steady, he kept telling himself. At least he was able to kiss her good night now without getting a concussion. He never pushed it any further. Luna was going to have to be the one to take it to the next level.
* * *
Chi-Chi was beaming from ear to ear. “It appears the marshal has missed the ‘Luna-tic,’ ” she teased.
Luna was sputtering. “Look at me! I have smoky dust on me, my hair is a mess, and it looks like I slept in my clothes!”
Cullen walked into the café. “What’s keeping you guys?”
Chi-Chi smiled. “Your sister received a phone call from the good marshal. He is going to meet us for dinner.”
“Cool!” Cullen was almost as excited as his sister. “What brings him into town?”
Chi-Chi tilted her head in the direction of Luna.
“Stop!” Luna protested. “He is on his way back from Louisville. That’s all.”
Cullen chuckled. “So he decided to make a right turn off the interstate?”
“It would appear so.” Chi-Chi nodded.
Luna let out a growl. “Oh, you guys!”
“Thou doth protest too much,” Chi-Chi replied.
Luna stomped her way to the ladies’ room to see what she could do to salvage her appearance. Chi-Chi followed her. Luna was splashing water on her face and glumly stared into the mirror.
“Now, listen to me, woman. You are beautiful. Inside and out. I don’t think the marshal would go out of his way to see you if he didn’t agree with me.”
“Oh, Chi-Chi. I always feel like a schoolgirl around him. Awkward and clumsy.” Luna kept fussing with her hair.
“You are none of those things. Here, let me help you. But first take that thing off.” In her excitement, Luna had forgotten to remove the work apron. Thankfully, that got rid of most of the smell of smoky dust.
In less than a couple of minutes, Chi-Chi braided Luna’s hair so it fell in front of her shoulder. Chi-Chi then pulled out a tube of coral lipstick and dabbed it on Luna’s cheeks and blended it in. “Well, that’s one thing I cannot do on my face, but it works for you.” They both laughed. Chi-Chi handed the tube over to Luna. “Now, on your lips.”
