Sweeter Than Sin (15 page)

She wanted to grab everything on the table, dump it in her bag and lunge for the door.

Instead, she casually started to put things away, drained the rest of her coffee.
Nothing much going on here … finished my coffee …
She kept the mask she’d worn for so long firmly in place, but then, as she went to push back from the table, somebody came through the door and her heart jumped up into her throat.

Out of all the faces she’d seen in here today, a few had looked vaguely familiar, but nobody had set her internal alarm buzzing.

Not until now. As the woman came striding through the door, Lana’s spine went tight and her heart ached. Too many seconds passed before she figured out who it was.

For one moment, just one, she almost started to cry.
Nichole—

The closest thing to a mom Lana had probably ever had. She’d heard about the disappearance, after it had happened, and everything in her had screamed out in denial. It had sent her careening down another spiral as she thought about the Bell kids, growing up without a mom, just like she had.

She thought about Nichole’s wide, wicked eyes and that amused grin.

She thought about Doug’s solemn, serious smile.

Her chest ached and ached until she had to remind herself to take a breath.

That woman wasn’t Nichole. Because Nichole had been killed fifteen years ago, her body only recently found. But if that wasn’t Nichole …

The woman moved to the counter, placing her order while Lana watched, breathing slow, steady.
In. Out.
Breathing really wasn’t that complicated. She went to push her jacket to pull out some cash and that was when Lana saw the gun.

The dots connected.

Jensen. The cop. Jensen Bell.

A detective here in Madison.

Any second and Jensen would turn her head, Lana thought. Jensen would turn her head, look at Lana, and she’d know. There were probably only a handful who would see through the disguise, simple as it was, but Jensen was probably one of them. Even as a kid, she’d been clever.

Stay cool.
Lana just had to stay cool. She continued to casually put up her stuff, keeping her body half-averted, her head tucked low so that her hair hung in her face.

There was a guy with Jensen. Some part of Lana was aware enough to appreciate that guy. He was gorgeous, his skin a warm, soft brown, with dreadlocks tied into a neat tail at his nape. The suit he wore looked like it cost a mint. Jensen sat with her back to the wall and her gaze passed over Lana, lingered for a moment and then moved on.

Don’t look at her. Don’t look at her. Don’t look—

Hitching her bag onto her shoulder, she headed for the door. Her knees were knocking, her belly twisting.
Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.
Pushing through the door, she held her breath, convinced every second of the way that Jensen would call out her name.

It didn’t happen.

When she hit the end of the block, she turned and got the hell out of sight, her gut a hot, angry snarl.

She wanted to go back to Adam’s, bury herself in the bed and just stop breathing for a little bit. Stop thinking. Stop existing.

Except she’d done that. For twenty years.

She knew where to start now, knew exactly where to go.

It was time to face the man who’d sent her away all those years ago.

If anybody knew where to find David, it was him.

*   *   *

He sat on the porch.

She’d imagined this moment so many times over the years, when she was scraping by, living in cardboard boxes, in shelters, flopping in some guy’s house because he’d said he’d help her score if she’d just let
him
score. She’d spent years in what felt like hell, all because he told her it was best that she leave.

And he’d spent those years here. Even now, he was on the swing, pushing back and forth, staring out over the water. Like there wasn’t a thing wrong in the world. Like the entire world hadn’t shifted on its axis twenty years ago, like it wasn’t crumbling under her feet, just now.

Maybe it wasn’t, for him.

And that, frankly, sucked.

It wasn’t fair.

Her father had suffered a series of strokes that left him confined to a nursing home.

She was a shadow of herself.

Twenty years had all but rewritten who she was. There were days when she didn’t even recognize herself. She’d spent more than two hours sitting in a coffee shop on Main Street in the middle of the town where she’d been born, where people had said she’d either remake the world or ruin it. But nobody had recognized her. Nobody even seemed to remember her.

She’d ruined Noah’s life. It looked like he was just now finding something that might make him happy.

She thought of the Bell family, how many years they’d wandered, waited, spent nights with no answers.

She thought about David and the hell he’d gone through. Even now, he was still out there, somewhere. No justice for him, no justice for so many other kids.

People
mourned
his parents. Those monsters. People mourned them.

So many other things wrong in this town. But there he sat, rocking on his porch.

Yeah, that pretty much sucked.

… It’s best if you don’t come back.…

She started toward him, those words echoing through her head.
Yeah? Well, guess what?
She came back.

She saw it when he realized he wasn’t alone, a fine tension racing through him, and slowly his head lifted. He turned, looking toward her, and sharp, watchful eyes narrowed on her face.

She felt the impact of that gaze right down to her toes, but she wouldn’t let herself look away.

She’d given up twenty years of her life.

She wasn’t giving up anything else.

As she mounted the steps, he sighed and started to fold the paper he’d been reading. It rattled, the noise grating on her ears. He tucked it under his coffee cup before looking over at her. “Why am I not surprised to see you here?”

“You were always the intelligent sort.”

He looked away from her, staring out into the distance. Then he nodded to the empty space next to him. “You might as well sit. I suppose you didn’t come by for nothing.”

“No.”

She sat in the seat and crossed her legs while her mind spun with hazy memories of the last time she’d seen him.

Those memories were too fragile to be trusted—whether it was the head injury, the trauma, the fear, she didn’t know, but the first few weeks were a blur and she barely remembered
anything
but the first few minutes when he’d stood over her.

Come on, Lana. You have to get up. You have to move.

A rush of panic, fear … and then again his hands gentle and kind, his voice soft and reassuring.
Everything is going to be okay.

Except it hadn’t been okay.

Nothing had ever been okay again.

Minutes ticked away and neither of them spoke. The wind kicked up, blowing her hair back from her face. Despite herself, despite the heaviness in her heart, she had to smile. She’d missed this place. This town.
Home.
She’d always dreamed about leaving … for a while. Just to see the world. Then she wanted to come back. Marry Noah. Have a family. And do things that mattered.

That was all she’d wanted.

She’d managed to do one of those things. She saw the world.

That was about it.

Feeling the weight of his gaze, she turned her head and meet his familiar blue eyes. The steadiness of that gaze had been one of her clearest memories for a very long time. When everything else was a daze of blood and fear and pain, she remembered those eyes.

And the promise.

A broken one.

Coolly she said, “You’re a damned liar.”

“Am I now?”

“I was half out of my head—sick from the pain, the way my head hurt. But I remember you standing over me, telling me everything was going to be okay.” Her lip curled as she looked away. “How in the hell can you call
this
okay?”

His quiet sigh drifted to her. “Well now. That is a question. I was an arrogant fool. I thought I could handle it on my own. I had the names, you know. David gave them to me. I took care of them, each one of them. On my own.”

Startled, she swung her head around to look at him.

“You…” She blinked and rubbed a hand over her mouth. “You took care of them? There was a heart attack. A car crash.”

“Easy enough to make it appear that way. If you know how.” He shrugged. “I knew how.”

Stunned, she stared at him, processing what he’d said. “You … wait.” She pressed the heels of her hands against her temples as all of that settled into place. It didn’t want to fit and it left her head pounding.
You killed them. All of them?
She chanced another look at him. His face was serene. And she realized she didn’t doubt a word he’d said.

But it wasn’t good enough. Surging to her feet, she started to pace. “It’s not enough, damn it. It’s still
happening
. How can it still be happening?”

She was just as angry with herself as she was with him, but it was easier to throw this out, to force the anger on somebody else.

And he let her.

“If I had the answer to that, I’d give it to you, Lana,” he said quietly, staring out over the river. “I thought it was over.”

“You
thought
?” She threw the words out between them like a challenge. “Something that fucking ugly and you
thought
? Everything I left behind? Everything we did and tried to do and you
thought
? Everything we went through and you
thought
? All these boys that have been suffering and you
thought
? That’s not good enough. It’s not—”

“You’re right,” he said gently, his quiet, level voice cutting through her fury like a bucket of cold water. “I killed the men that David told me about, but I never looked any deeper, never thought to look. And I’ll carry that regret to my grave. If I can find each of those boys and apologize, I will gladly do so. But I had the names of the men David knew, besides his father. I thought it was done.”

Staring at his back, she curled her hands over the railing and then looked away, trying to figure out what to say next, what to do. She’d come back for a reason, and this time, no matter what it took, she’d see this through. “I’m not leaving again.”

“Of all the times for you to come back, girl. You had to pick now.” He shook his head, his sigh drifting away on the wind. He slanted a glance at her, a thick brow rising. Those insightful eyes probed her, seemed to see straight through her. “I take it you heard about the body. You know they found her.”

“I…” She gulped, spit drying in her mouth and turning her heart to lead. As it sank like a stone to settle in the pit of her belly, she forced herself to speak. “I know. It doesn’t matter. I heard about the arrests. I know it’s still going on. Nothing else matters. I have to see it through, make sure it stops this time. No matter what.”

“No matter what.” He tugged off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair, staring down at the floorboards, studying the toes of dusty worn-out boots. “And when you’re connected to what happened all those years ago, girl? What are you going to do when they start pushing for answers? Plenty of people tried to connect you to their disappearances. You aware of that? Have you thought it through that far?”

“No.” The word came out faint, weak, and she had to clear her throat before she could say anything else. “No. I haven’t through it through. But I can’t just sit back and turn a blind eye when I know what’s going on here. If I’d stayed…”

“If you’d stayed…” He paused, his words trailing off as he stared off into nothing. “A lot of ifs. Twenty years gone, no way to know what could have happened. They’ll have questions for you. A lot of them. And you’ll have to be the one to answer some of them.”

He turned, leaned against the railing. “If it comes to that, so will I.”

Guilt lodged in her throat, weighed down on her like a stone. “I don’t have to tell about you.”

“Horseshit. I’m involved. Same as you.” Those shrewd eyes lingered on her face and she had to fight not to squirm. “What can you tell them about that night?”

The pounding in her head increased, that ache that always got worse every time she tried to figure out an answer. She just shook her head. “Next to nothing. Most of it is a jumble. A few bits and pieces of you. There was David, before she showed up. And then her … once she showed up, everything moves too fast and there was the gunshot. Pain. Then it’s all a mess and I don’t have anything clear until…”

She stopped, looked away. If she kept talking she’d start to rage at him, and that wouldn’t accomplish anything. She wanted to yell, wanted to demand answers. Why had he shoved her away like that?

Why hadn’t he …

Something of what she felt must have shown on her face. She saw the change come over his face, saw it as he prepared to say something. Before he could, the door to the house opened. Lana froze and ducked her head, staring at the floor as a woman’s soft, questioning voice drifted to them.

Feeling the weight of the woman’s curious stare, Lana turned around, staring back over the river as the man and woman talked.

Then Lana turned away, giving them her back.

A moment passed and the door shut.

Swallowing the knot in her throat, she glanced over at him while a war waged inside.

Now what?

She wasn’t sure what she’d hoped to accomplish here, but she’d come hoping he’d have answers. Insight.

Something.

But there was nothing here, she realized.

Whatever she was going to do, she’d be doing it alone.

“You don’t need to go stirring things from the past up,” he said gently. “All those people are going to pay for what they did. It’s all coming to light now. You don’t need to be involved in it.”

“Involved…” Bitterly, she smiled. “I’ve been involved from the get-go. There’s only one other person
more
involved than in this than I am.” She turned and gave him a hard look. “And I guess he’s not wanting to do jack shit about it.”