Cold Hearts (23 page)

Wilson smiled. “No, no, I see the wisdom in the suggestion. However, we couldn’t offer her a job until we receive your resignation.”

Lissa’s heart skipped a beat. “Can I give it to you now, handwritten?”

Wilson was a little surprised, but he nodded in agreement. “I don’t see why not. Would you like a pen and paper?”

Lissa was stifling an urge to giggle. “Yes, please.”

The principal handed her a piece of school letterhead and a pen. “I’ll just give you a couple of minutes on your own,” he said as he left the room.

Lissa’s hands were shaking as she began to write, but by the time the principal returned with a young woman behind him, her note was finished and lying on his desk.

Lissa saw them walk in and guessed the woman must be the substitute because she knew everyone else at the school. When Mr. Wilson introduced them, she knew she’d been right.

“Have a seat here, Carly. I want you to meet Melissa Sherman. It’s her class you’ve been subbing with. Melissa, this is Carly Vance.”

Carly smiled while clearly trying not to stare at the bruises on Melissa’s face. “It’s nice to meet you, and even better to know the danger to your life is over.” Her hands began trembling as she glanced back at the principal. “So is this about terminating the sub job?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Wilson said. “Miss Sherman has tendered her resignation due to a family move out of the district, so I thought it prudent to let you know that your presence will still be needed here until we can hire a full-time teacher to finish out the year. I hope you can accommodate us in this manner?”

Lissa saw hope flash across Carly’s face. “Oh, yes, sir! No problem. No problem at all, and I hope you’ll consider my résumé when you make your decision.”

“Of course,” Mr. Wilson said. “I’ll make sure that happens. Everything takes time.”

Carly was still arguing her cause. “Before my divorce I worked for the federal government and had a high security clearance. My girls and I are in need of stability, and this would make all the difference in the world to us.”

And just like that, Lissa realized she’d found the perfect family for her little house. “You have two girls?” she asked.

Carly nodded. “They’re three and almost five. My oldest goes to pre-K here.”

“In case you’re interested in moving, I’m going to have an empty two-bedroom house when I leave Mystic,” Lissa said. “I was going to sell, but I’d happily rent it with intent to sell if you’re interested.”

Carly burst into tears. “I came in here expecting to be told I wasn’t needed anymore and instead found out my job’s been extended
and
there’s a permanent opening. If I get the job, I can pay rent.”

The principal’s smile widened. He picked up Melissa’s letter of resignation and stamped it with the date.

“So, Carly, I think for now we’re done.”

Lissa got a piece of paper out of her purse, wrote down her cell phone number and address and handed it to Carly. “If everything works out for you and you’re interested, just give me a call. I can always drive back to Mystic to show you the house.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much. Both of you,” Carly said. She left the office with a bounce in her step.

Lissa knew how she felt.

“Thank you, Mr. Wilson. I’ve loved working here, and I appreciate your understanding in what’s been a very traumatic time in my life. I’m ready for some good days.”

“Perfect,” Wilson said. “I’ll notify Superintendent Porter of your resignation, but I don’t expect any problems, since she’s already doing a fine job in the position. And your resignation in the middle of a contract won’t affect my willingness to give you a glowing recommendation, given the circumstances.”

“So we’re good?” Lissa asked.

“We’re good,” he said. And when they stood up, he shook her hand and then showed her out.

Her friend Margaret Lewis was in the office waiting to see her, and she was properly horrified by Lissa’s injuries, and she even cried a little when she learned Lissa was leaving.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you,” Margaret said. “Just a little sad for myself that I won’t see you again.”

“We’ll see each other, for sure,” Lissa said. “But I know a new substitute teacher who’s shy on friends right now, too.”

Margaret nodded and gave her a careful hug. “We’ll still have to do Saturday lunch now and then, even if you
are
going to be living in Summerton.”

Lissa thought of her beautiful new home and what fun it was going to be to show it off. “You’ll have to come visit me for the first lunch, just so you’ll know where I live.”

“It’s a deal,” Margaret said. Then she glanced at her watch. “Gotta go. My planning period is over. I love you, girl, and I wish you the best.”

Lissa waved. “I’m going to miss hanging out with you daily, but I promise we won’t lose touch.”

They left the office together, and Lissa texted Mack as she walked toward the exit. He was going to be so excited, and as much as she would miss her kids, she wanted a life with Mack even more.

She sat down on a bench at the curb, waiting for him to come get her and marveled at how quickly life could change—this time for the better.

Her phone signaled a text, and she read it smiling.

On my way.

She leaned back against the bench and sighed. The memorial service was one more hard thing to get through, although this would never truly be behind them until Paul Jackson’s murder was solved.

Within minutes, Mack pulled up at the curb and got out.

“Hi, baby. Ready to go home?”

“Yes, please,” she said. She waited until they were on their way before she gave him the good news. “Hey, Mack, guess what?”

“What, honey?”

“I found out the substitute teacher in my class is looking for a full-time job, and I took it as the answer to a prayer. Mr. Wilson let me turn in my resignation, and I can pretty much guarantee she’ll get the job. As of fifteen minutes ago, I’m unemployed.”

Mack let out a whoop of joy.

“This is wonderful. Are you okay with it? You didn’t do it just for me? I don’t want you unhappy and missing your work.”

“I did it for both of us, but mostly for me. I had a drive to face every day, or a long five days without you and only weekends together until summer. I wasn’t looking forward to either one. This was the perfect solution.”

“What a great way to end the day,” Mack said. “I’m so happy for us. I wish Dad was here to see this happening.”

Lissa sighed. “So do I. He could have walked me down the aisle.”

Mack slid a hand across the seat and patted her leg.

“I’ll walk you down the aisle...all the way to the preacher. You’re no longer alone here, honey. Remember that.”

Lissa’s eyes lit up at the idea of walking down the aisle with Mack, and the longer she thought about it, the more perfect it seemed.

“We’re here,” he said as he pulled up beneath the carport, then handed her the keys. “You go unlock the door. I’ll get our things.”

Lissa didn’t argue. The day had worn her out, and her steps were suddenly dragging.

By the time they got everything hung up and Mack had gone into the other room to start answering messages, she had fallen asleep on the bed, shoes and all.

* * *

Mack breathed a sigh of exhaustion as he returned the last call, which was from Trey Jakes.

“Trey, this is Mack. I saw I missed your call. Lissa and I have been in Summerton, and I didn’t hear the phone. Sorry.”

“No problem,” Trey said. “I wanted to run something by you, and if it seems inappropriate, or it offends you, please don’t hesitate to say so, and that will be the end of it.”

Mack frowned. “That sounds ominous. What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that we have absolutely no suspects, no witnesses, not a freaking clue as to where to start looking for the killer beyond the fact that because of that bloody tassel, I’m beginning to believe he was either a member of your dad’s graduating class or someone he grew up with. I know at first I didn’t want to alert the killer that we had connected him to the wreck, but I’ve discussed this with a police psychologist and alerted Mom. I need to start a fire, and I thought your dad’s memorial service might be the place to do it.”

Mack frowned. He’d already denied Marcus Silver’s offer of getting his dad’s classmates together to speak at the service. “What did you have in mind?”

“I want a few minutes of time at the pulpit after the preacher is through and before the congregation is dismissed.”

“To say what?” Mack asked.

“To say that the police are aware that the person who killed your dad and Dick Phillips was a classmate, or at the least a schoolmate, and that I believe someone in Mystic knows why this is happening. I want to announce that a hotline has been set up that will keep callers anonymous, and that ten thousand dollars has been donated by a national agency to be given to any person with information that leads to the arrest and conviction of the killer.”

Mack took a deep breath. On the surface, his father’s memorial service didn’t seem like the proper place for this to happen, but the longer he thought about it, the more certain he became that it was actually the perfect place. Nearly everyone in Mystic would be there. What better place to spread the word than when they were sitting among people they’d known all their lives, suddenly having to face the fact that one of them was most likely a killer.

Trey waited and got nothing but silence. He sighed. It had been a wild shot, and it hadn’t worked. No loss, no foul.

“It’s okay, Mack. I completely understand your reluctance to—”

“Do it,” Mack said. “Do it.”

“Thank you. Thank you, Mack.”

“No, the thanks will go to you when you find the bastard who’s doing this,” Mack said, and then he disconnected.

He walked back to his bedroom in silence, thinking about what a bombshell that would be, and then found Lissa asleep on the bed, still fully dressed.

Poor baby. Today really kicked her ass.

He slipped the shoes off her feet and covered her with a blanket, then kicked off his own shoes and lay down beside her. Two more nights in this house, the final goodbye to his father tomorrow, and then they could go home.

Nineteen

T
he urns of green ferns on either side of the pulpit and the large arrangement of fall-colored flowers in front of it were reminders that this was essentially a funeral, even though there was no casket. Paul Jackson’s body was still in cold storage in a drawer at the county morgue and in no shape to be viewed, not now and not ever.

To Mack, who was already seated in the front row with Melissa at his side, the absence of a coffin was an ugly reminder of what had happened to his dad, and how truly alone he and Melissa were in this world, with no extended family members to gather on the pew in mutual grief.

The church was not just full but overflowing, and the staff had even added metal folding chairs along the walls and out into the foyer for extra seating. The citizens of Mystic were there both to offer up their condolences and partly out of curiosity at how this funeral would match up to the one held for Dick Phillips. Everyone noticed Mack Jackson and Melissa Sherman sitting alone on the front pew, which made the service that much more poignant. Reuniting and resuming an old love affair in the midst of such sadness had captured every woman’s heart in Mystic, except maybe Jessica York, who had taken it upon herself to be out of town.

Lissa knew her facial bruises were a source of discussion, but not in a mean way, and Mack’s careful movements were a reminder that he’d nearly died in an effort to catch her stalker. She felt battered and sore, and today she also felt grief. She remembered the day she’d buried her mother and how alone in the world it had left her feeling.

She glanced up at Mack, and he seemed to sense her scrutiny because he looked down, saw tears glistening in her eyes and frowned.

“What, honey? Are you okay? Do you need to get out of here?” he asked.

“No, nothing like that,” she whispered, as she gave his hand a quick squeeze. “I’m just so sad for you today.”

His belly knotted a little bit tighter. Sympathy was going to be hard to deal with today.

“Thank you, baby,” he said softly.

She leaned her head against his shoulder and kept hold of his hand, and that was the way they were sitting when the service began.

Mack noticed more about Pastor Farley’s clothing than he did what the man was saying. The moment the pastor had approached the pulpit, Mack’s mind had gone blank. He kept staring at the stained-glass window above the choir loft, noticing how the sunlight coming through the colored panes painted the walls and floor and the top of the preacher’s bald head. This was a travesty, an awful nightmare that wouldn’t come to an end.

When Lissa began to weep, his focus shifted to the sadness on her face, and he knew she was remembering all over again that it had been her car. Even if a killer had pushed the button, her car had been his weapon.

The knot in his throat grew tighter as he pulled her close. Even when the preacher stopped talking and someone started singing, Mack felt emotionally raw. He barely remembered his mother’s funeral, but he would never forget today. This one shouldn’t have happened. Not now. Not like this.

Pastor Farley stood after the end of the song. He’d already been forewarned that the police chief wanted to speak, but not told why. He had one last thing on his agenda, and then he would turn the podium over to Trey Jakes.

“I have two announcements to make before we adjourn. One is that the ladies of our church have dessert and coffee waiting in the dining area. Mack and Melissa will join you for a short time, but as you can see, they are both still healing from their own ordeal. And now the last thing of note. Chief Jakes of the Mystic Police Department has something to announce. Chief, the podium is yours.”

Lissa quickly realized Mack was not surprised, although from the murmurs of the congregation behind her, they certainly were. This was definitely out of the norm.

Trey walked down the middle aisle of the church with long, steady strides. His uniform was spotless, and the Stetson he habitually wore was in his hand. When he stepped up to the podium, he looked first at Mack and then out across the congregation.

“Mack has given me permission to make this announcement at his father’s service because he and my fiancée, Dallas Phillips, are still waiting for justice for their fathers’ deaths. So this is what we now believe—a killer sits among you.”

The uproar that followed was instantaneous and full of righteous indignation, but Trey kept speaking and they wanted to hear the rest, so silence quickly fell as he continued.

“Someone in this town, maybe more than one of you, knows something they’re afraid to tell. Or maybe you don’t even realize that what you know could possibly matter. What some of you don’t know, and others may have forgotten, is that the night of the 1980 high school graduation, four of the graduates were in a deadly wreck. One girl died at the scene. To this day, the three survivors have no memory of why the car they were in was going over a hundred miles an hour when it hit a tree. They have no memory of anything that night after they stepped off that stage at graduation.

“And then there are two men, good men and our friends, who have been murdered within weeks of each other here in Mystic. Is it any coincidence that Dick Phillips and Paul Jackson were two of the three survivors of that wreck? Does their killer think we are stupid and naive enough to overlook that fact? To assume it’s not connected?

“Someone in here knows something more about that night and they’re not telling. Mack and Dallas have lost their fathers because of your silence. So if you don’t have the guts to come forward in person, you might be compelled to come forward now that a national victims and survivors group has donated ten thousand dollars to be given to the person with information that leads to the arrest and conviction of the killer. There’s a hotline you can call. It won’t record your identity or location. You can remain anonymous if you choose.

“So before you go eat your cake and drink your coffee, think back, and think hard. What did you see that night? What do you know? What gossip did you hear? The phone number is on a sign posted on the church bulletin board, and it will be in the newspaper, as well. Please call before it’s too late.”

Trey was about to walk away when someone from the congregation called out, “Who was the other survivor? Who was the girl who didn’t die?”

A muscle ticked at the side of Trey’s mouth, but he didn’t hesitate to answer. “My mother, Betsy Jakes.”

Silence enveloped the room as he stepped down from the pulpit and exited the church. Everyone got the implication. If she was the only one left alive, then she was the killer’s next target. The hush was palpable.

Pastor Farley walked back up to the microphone.

“Dessert is being served in the dining hall. Please join me in giving Mack and Melissa our condolences.”

Then the pastor whisked Mack and Melissa through a door just off to the side of the pulpit and into the dining hall before the congregation could get there, and got them seated.

“Mack, I think that was a brave and gutsy thing to do. I hope it pays off,” he said.

“So do I,” Mack said.

“You knew ahead of time, didn’t you?” Lissa asked.

“I didn’t see the message from Trey until we got home, and by the time I read it you’d fallen asleep. And then this morning, there was just so much going on that—”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter whether I knew beforehand or not,” she said. “I’m just hopeful the shock factor knocks at someone’s memory.”

“Yeah, that and the ten thousand dollars,” Mack added.

Lissa sighed. “True. Money talks.”

And then she heard the rumble of a crowd and turned toward the door. “Here they come. Are you okay?”

Mack leaned over and lightly kissed her on the cheek. “Yes, and thank you.”

“For what?”

“For forgiving me for breaking your heart and still loving me anyway,” he said softly. Then he stood as the first wave of people approached. After that, time seemed to fly.

Someone brought Lissa a piece of pie and, at her request, a glass of iced tea. She ate a few bites and then handed the rest to Mack when there was a lull.

He ate standing up, but with an eye on her pale face. “Are you okay?”

“I think I need to lie down,” she said.

“Then, we’re out of here,” he said, setting the plate aside. He waved the pastor down as he gathered up her purse and took her by the arm. “Lissa needs to rest. Please give everyone our apologies.”

“Absolutely,” Farley said, and he patted Lissa’s arm. “I wish both of you the best.”

“Thank you for everything,” she said.

Mack wound his way through the crowded dining hall, saying goodbyes, nodding and smiling, all without pausing. Lissa’s exhaustion was evident. What wasn’t bruised and purple on her face was ghostly white.

Mack got her in the SUV and then headed home.

“You should have said something sooner, honey.”

“No, it wasn’t that. It sort of hit me all at once,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll feel better once we get back to the house. I already feel better just being away from that noise.”

Mack reached for her hand and held it all the way home.

Once inside, he paused in the living room to see what she might need.

“Do you need a cold drink or anything?”

“No, sweetheart. I just want to lie down. Will you help me out of this dress? My arms feel like lead.”

He hurried her down the hall, and then had her undressed and in bed within minutes.

As soon as she was comfortable, he began to change out of his suit, talking to her as she watched him.

“Tomorrow we go home. When you feel like it, we’ll get a moving crew to your house and pack up everything you want to bring with you.”

“I’m leaving all the furnishings with the house. There are some keepsakes I want, some of the dishes and such, but all I’ll really need are my clothes and laptop.”

“You want to sell the place?” he asked. “If you do, we’ll list it when we list this one. I don’t have any desire to keep it without Dad in it.”

“No,” she said as she rolled the pillow beneath her neck and shifted to a more comfortable position. “The substitute teacher who’s handling my class is probably going to be hired in my place. She needs a house for herself and her two girls. I offered to rent her mine if she was interested.”

Mack paused and then smiled at her. “That was very generous of you.”

Lissa shrugged. “She needs something that I have and no longer need. It seemed the logical thing to do.” She watched him for a few moments longer, thinking to herself how blessed she was that he was back in her life. “Hey, Mack?”

“Yeah?” he said, as he began hanging up the suit.

“Do you want a big wedding?”

He stopped. “I want what you want.”

“We don’t have any family. We have friends, but that’s not the same thing.”

“Agreed,” he said.

“How would you feel if we just got married one morning by a justice of the peace and then went about our day as if nothing had changed?”

He smiled. “No honeymoon, either?”

She yawned. “We couldn’t afford one the first time, and I don’t feel much like a honeymoon while your Dad’s murder remains unsolved.”

Mack sat down on the side of the bed and then scooped her up and into his arms.

“You’re going to hurt yourself!” Lissa cried.

“But I didn’t,” he said. “I just had to hold you. You are, without doubt, the most precious thing in my life. We always were on the same page. It’s nice to know some things never change.”

Then he leaned down and kissed her, first on the lips until he heard her groan, and then the top of her head where the curls were the thickest, taking care not to get too close to the healing wound.

“One of these days, when we no longer have staples or sores, or scabs or black eyes, I am going to take you to bed for a week. Think you can handle that?”

“I look forward to the experience,” she drawled.

Mack threw back his head and laughed, and then was shocked at the joy in his heart on this saddest of days.

“We’re going to live a long and happy life,” he said.

“Just as we always planned,” she added.

He shrugged. “Better now than never?”

She cupped a hand against his cheek as she watched the expressions changing on his face.

“We got our chance, Matthew...our second chance. We owe it to ourselves to live it to the fullest.”

He kissed her again, this time longer. Reluctantly, he finally stopped.

“Rest now. We’ll pack in the morning and sleep in our own bed tomorrow night.”

She grinned. “That bed with all the fertility cherubs?”

“That’s the one.”

“I can hardly wait,” she said softly. When he pulled the covers up over her shoulders, she was still smiling as she closed her eyes.

* * *

The killer grabbed a piece of cake and began forking small bites into his mouth as he moved among the people. He was still reeling from the shock of the chief’s announcement and feeling just the tiniest bit vulnerable. Instead of leaving right away as he’d planned, now he wanted people to remember he was there if the need for an alibi ever arose.