Unforgivable (Romantic Suspense) Page 6
“Celine Inc. still won’t return our calls,” Ben continued. “I think we’re going to send someone up to find their offices. We’re tired of playing games with them. Anyway, we can grab a bite at Pie in the Sky and then you can head on home. I’ll catch a ride from Tate or Harold.”
Katie nodded. She already knew asking him if she could sit in on the meeting would be fruitless. As the suds slid down her hands and down the drain, she felt the first impish glimmer light in her stomach. She pushed it away.
Ben preceded Katie into the diner that served as the hub of town despite its non-central location. Dinah Simpson had bought the ailing diner with the money her late husband left her. At forty, her short, black hair and stylish outfits, along with her lucrative business, garnered her more marriage proposals in one week than a woman got in two lifetimes, Katie suspected. The menu was an eclectic mix of down-home and nouveau cuisine that Dinah copied from Atlanta restaurants. Every night the specials were something interesting, like salmon with mango salsa and grits or trout with dill and wine sauce. She’d classed up the joint with fancy wallpaper borders and a European décor, then sold out to greed by displaying area advertising everywhere one looked, even in the bathrooms.
“Hey, Ben!” Dinah greeted with a warm smile. “How’s it going?”
“For a man going to the dogs, as good as can be expected,” he answered.
Dinah and two men at the counter laughed, even though they’d heard the reply every time Ben walked in.
Dinah’s smile cooled considerably when she laid eyes on Katie. “Hey,” she said, then turned to wipe down a section of counter that already looked clean.
“Hi,” Katie said warmly, then turned to the men. “How are you?”
They nodded, then resumed their conversation.
She joined Ben at a booth, and Linda sauntered over. “Hey ya, Ben. Katie,” she added as an afterthought. “Ice tea?” She waited for Ben to answer, though he nodded for Katie to order.
“People don’t like me,” Katie said when the waitress left.
“Sure they do.”
“You didn’t notice the difference in response we get? It’s so obvious.”
He glanced over her head to see the specials written on a blackboard in florescent marker. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I, Ben?”
He set his menu down and looked across the slate table at her. “Katie, what possible reason could anyone here have to dislike you?”
“I don’t know, but they do. I’m not imagining it.”
She glanced around the diner. Those who met her gaze nodded briefly—no smile—before returning to whatever they were doing. Maybe the problem was that they didn’t know her. She’d been born in Flatlands but had participated in very little in town. A pink flier in the window asked for volunteers to help at the County Fair. Then Ben would be by himself, and she’d feel guilty all day and more for it.
Harold Boyd walked over and planted his beefy hands on their table. “Hey, ya’ll. How’s it going?”
Katie was pretty sure it wasn’t just the pulsing tic on Harold’s right eyelid that made her uneasy. He couldn’t help that just like she couldn’t help the wine stain on her neck. She nodded before returning her attention to the menu. Maybe it was his bear-like physique or the way he liked to hover just a little too close.
The men talked over some small-town gossip for a minute, and then Harold rapped his knuckles on the tabletop. “Got to head back to the barn.” She was unnerved to find him looking right at her. “I’ll see you around.” He even touched her arm in an affectionate gesture before heading out.
“See, he’s friendly toward you,” Ben said.
When she drove home an hour later, she was convinced that she was nothing more than a selfish, dissatisfied woman. Everyone worshipped Ben, and he was a wonderful man. She, on the other hand, had leached off of him from the time she was nine, eagerly taking the security he offered.
When she passed her own driveway, she chastised herself again.
What are you doing, Katie?
Just going to see why he’s back in town, that’s all.
That was her thought as she turned down the long-unused driveway that led to Silas’s house. The drive wasn’t as long as it had seemed to her that awful day. A warm breeze ruffled through the lush green leaves of the maples and oaks. Then it got darker as the large oak trees took over. And then, there was the house.
The sawhorses were still set up outside, and Silas was reclining at the top of the porch steps with his dog. He looked like a man who had worked hard all day. And perhaps he had, because new windows were now installed in the front of the house. He was watching her as she pulled next to his car. Or was it a truck? A Lincoln Navigator, one of those SUVs. Very nice, which made her wonder what he did for a living. That’s why she was here, because her curiosity was eating away at her. Curiosity didn’t always kill cats, did it?
He pulled himself to his feet as she stepped out of her car. The Boss merely raised his head and woofed softly. Silas’s gaze never left her as she made her way to him, like a wolf sizing up his prey
“Hi. I was on my way home and thought I’d come by and see how things were going.” Lame, Katie, so lame.
He glanced toward the house. The front door was on, and he’d installed two new windows. “It’s getting closer to livable.”
“They’re having a town council meeting right now, that’s where Ben is, to see what to do about this property.”
“What do they want to do with it?”
“That’s the big debate. Some want to put shopping centers to attract the area townspeople and travelers to stop. Others want to put some kind of amusement park, with miniature golf and the like. The only thing most of them agree on is that we need to do something. We’ve lost three businesses in the last year, and seven families have moved out of town to find better prospects.”
He regarded her with amused curiosity. She found herself crossing her arms in front of her.
“What do you think they should do with this property?”
“I...” She blinked in surprise. “You know, I’ve never thought about it. No one ever asks my opinion on stuff like that.”
He leaned against the massive column. “As I recall, you were happy enough to supply it anyway. When you were a kid, I mean. You were the feistiest kid I knew, a fighter if I ever saw one. You were also fearless; I saw the scratches on Gary’s face.”
“Fearless,” she said in a low voice, trying to remember that girl. “I was fearless, wasn’t I? And feisty.” Her gaze fastened on the frayed bottoms of his jeans.
“What happened to you, Katie?” he asked after a few moments. His voice was low and soft, laced in Southern honey.
She looked at him at last. “People change, I suppose.”
She could see a visible strain in his posture, as though he wanted to come closer, but held himself back. Which was a good thing, a really good thing. He hadn’t changed much, other than filling out and looking even more interesting than he had before.
“People are s’posed to change for the better.” He ran his hand back through the long waves of his hair. “What I mean is, people are s’posed to get stronger.”
Should she be insulted by his words? She felt a twinge of something, but not anger. “What do you do, Silas?”
“I work for a newspaper in Atlanta. And you work for your husband.”
“With my husband. I love working with animals. Since Boots’s ordeal, I’ve become very interested in animal welfare. The people in town probably think I’m bossy.”
Silas slid down the column and sat on the top step. He patted the area next to him. “What happened with your kitten?”
She eyed the spot warily, but her body took her to it. She kept a safe distance between them, an appropriate distance between a married woman and a man she didn’t really know.
“God, I loved that cat.”
“He lived for a pretty long time, didn’t he?”
“Yeah.” She smiled, remembering the way he slept curled up by her feet every night. “Do you know what he did, right before he died? He found me. It was right after Ben and I married. I was down in the basement moving some stuff around. Boots crawled down the steps. I didn’t even hear him, not until he landed in a thump on the floor.” Her voice went tight.
Stop being so damn sentimental.
“He laid in my arms staring up at me with his crossed eyes. He had a condition known as strabismus, permanently crossed eyes.” A laugh escaped. “Do you know how many times I had to tell people that he wasn’t a Siamese? Aside from having a little trouble nabbing flies on the windowsill, he could see pretty well.” Her laughter faded as she found herself back in the cold, damp basement. “I couldn’t figure out why he’d come downstairs. He didn’t do stairs well. He was purring.” She wiped at her eyes. “Purring, like he was happy. He looked up at me the best he could, the way he always had. Like he loved me, with a slow blink. He raised his paw to me. And then he died.” The last word was swallowed in a cry, and she turned away. “This is silly. He’s been gone for nine years.”
Silas got to his feet and went inside. She’d embarrassed him. Well, great, she’d embarrassed herself, too. But
He came back with a wad of toilet paper. “Sorry, it’s all I’ve got.”
“Thanks.” She dabbed her eyes and blew her nose. “It’s silly.”
“No, it’s not.” His voice was soft, and it pulled her gaze to his. He touched her cheek, and that simple touch warmed her all over. “There’s nothing silly about feeling pain. You’ve had a lot of pain in your life. I wish I could take it away.”
She shook her head, because she couldn’t take the feel of his hand against her cheek another moment without acting on it. “I’ve been lucky in many ways.”
He rested his arm on his knee. “Maybe.”
It was an odd remark, and its implications shivered through her. As though he knew her doubts, as though he could see right into her soul. She’d gotten so good at pretending. No way could he, who knew her hardly at all, figure out what she’d told no one. The Boss groaned as he hefted himself from the floor and moved closer to Silas.
“Still think about your mom?”
“Every day,” she said without thinking. What was it about Silas that made her open up? “She was my age when she died.”
“And you’re feeling very mortal.”
Her eyes widened. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Whatever it is that you’re doing.” She remembered the rumors she’d heard about him being strange. “You’re scaring me.”
His expression went still and dark. “Don’t be afraid of me, Katie. You trusted me when no one else did.”
“Tell me why you’re back.”
“It was something I had to do.” The intense way he looked at her…
“Maybe I should go—”
“Tell me about your mom,” he said at the same time, stopping her.
“What?” The word came out a whisper.
He leaned forward, not into her comfort zone, but he was still discomforting all the same. “Tell me what she was thinking just before she died. That’s what you’re searching for, isn’t it? You’re afraid that whatever got to her will get to you.”
“Either explain how you know these things or stop saying them.”
“Just talk to me.”
She would have gotten up then, if he weren’t so right. The sun was filtering through the tops of the trees on its descent. It was still light out, even though it was evening. But here on the porch, tucked beneath the massive oaks, it was cool and shadowy. That fit the man sitting next to her , too.
“She seemed fine,” she said at last. “At least from a nine-year-old’s point of view. She had a hard life, worked hard. She seemed to live in a world of fear and distrust, though I never understood why. We were dirt poor, but I thought we had it all. Just the two of us together forever, I thought. She wasn’t happy with me hanging out at the hospital with Ben. Or you. She thought it was inappropriate. I was mad at her, because seeing Boots meant everything to me.” So had seeing Silas. “I wanted to punish her by sneaking out and staying the night with a friend.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Logically, I know that my sneaking away didn’t cause her to take her life. But I can’t help thinking...” She looked into the trees again. “If I’d been there, maybe I could have done something.”
“There’s nothing you could have done. If she was determined to take her life, she would have found a way.”
Katie nodded. “I didn’t even know what it meant then, taking one’s own life. I kept waiting for her to come back. When I went to stay with the Emersons, I would sit outside by the fence and wait for her at the end of the day. When the sun went down, I’d get so mad at her. It meant she wasn’t coming again.” She turned away from the sunlight. “I still hate sunsets.”
“I don’t remember much of my mom,” he said, surprising her. “Just vague images. I was three when she ran headlong into a semi. The semi was in her lane.”
“I’m sorry, Silas. I never knew that.”
“No one knew. My father collected the insurance settlement and moved here. He didn’t want anything to do with the people in town. They caused him nothing but trouble, meddling in the ways he parented, telling him how to live. So he kept us out here away from everyone. It annoyed him that I had to go to school, because I couldn’t help him with his carvings. The truant office annoyed him, too. My father blamed me, promised to make sure I got to school.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Why this, this very personal recollection from his life, when he wouldn’t even tell her why he was back in town?
He leaned back against the column. “Because I’ve never told anyone before.”
She felt her insides cave in, but she held her passive expression. “Oh.” She wished she hadn’t interrupted him when he remained silent. “Did you hate your father?”
“He represented everything I hated. Apathy. Selfishness. Violence.”
She winced. “He hit you, didn’t he?”
“He slapped me around once in a while, made me sleep in the woods when he wasn’t happy with me. He handled everything violently.” He wasn’t looking at her now, but somewhere past her. “He took me hunting with him. I hated it. He had a place north of here, an old barn out in the middle of nowhere. He’d take me out for the weekend and make me shoot animals. Not just for food. He really enjoyed it, the killing part. The first time he let me shoot—made me shoot—he thought it was some kind of honor.” This last word he said with a sneer. “I couldn’t shoot the deer. It was standing right there. He jammed my finger on the trigger.” He crooked his finger, making her aware of his long fingers. “Hurt like hell. The deer fell. We took it to the barn and skinned it. I hated that place even more than I hated him. It smelled like death. My father, he enjoyed all of it. The power, mostly. That he had power over another living creature. What makes someone evil like that? What makes them enjoy taking a life?”
He wasn’t asking her those questions. His gaze was on the woods beyond. Still, she felt herself responding to the trace of agony that laced his voice.
To keep herself in check, she said, “I think I found that barn once. Dark red, with the foundation of a burned house nearby?” When he nodded, she said, “It gave me the creeps. I’d gone in a different direction that day, walking by myself. I never went that way again.”
“My father loved that place. I hated it.”
“I wish you’d had the kind of relationship my mama and I had.”
His expression softened. “Thanks, Katie.”
She wanted to thank him, too. For letting her talk about her mama for the first time since she could remember. For wanting to take away her pain. For making her feel more alive than she’d felt in a long time. That last part made her get to her feet.
“I’d better go.”
He took hold of her
arm before she could move away. “Katie.” He took one step down, looking at where he held her arm, then at her. Since she was one step above him, he was face-to-face with her. “Be careful, okay?”
She hadn’t expected anything, really, especially not what he’d shared. But a warning, least of all.
“What do you mean?”
He hesitated, searching her eyes. “Just be careful who you trust.”
“Does that include you, Silas?”
“Definitely.”
“You said not to be afraid of you.”
“I don’t want you afraid of me. But I don’t want you to trust me, either.”
A warning. She needed that like a fish needed a fiddle.
Her first thought, after chastising herself for going to see Silas, was what a contradiction the man was. Touched that she’d trusted him years ago and telling her not to trust him now. Why had he come back? She hit the steering wheel. It was driving her crazy.
Her thoughts were abruptly returned to the present when she pulled down her driveway and saw a strange truck parked there.
CHAPTER 5
A knot tightened in Katie’s throat. Before she even opened her car door, Ben and Morton Thorpe stepped out onto the porch. The knot grew bigger. The meeting should have lasted more than an hour, usually two. Both men walked toward her with hurried motions.
“Good grief, Katie, where have you been?” Ben started before she could say a word.
“Just driving around. It was nice to have the car to myself for a change.”
“Your husband’s been out of his mind with worry,” Morton said, as though he were speaking to a little girl. Or maybe as he talked to his daughter, Geraldine. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself putting him through that.”
Ben patted him on the back. “Thanks for the ride, Mort. And for being here for me.”