Thirty and a Half Excuses (32 page)

He tensed, his fingers splaying on the table. “Only two? Did it stop without an arrest?”

“Yes. But someone moved.”

“To Henryetta?”

I didn’t answer.

Mason turned to face me, his eyes pleading with me. “You have to tell the police, Rose.”

Indignant, I jerked away from him. “I’m not telling the police anything.”

“Rose, listen to me. There could be a serial killer on the loose.”

“I don’t care.” I pushed at him to let me out of the booth. “I’m not telling the police diddly squat.”

Mason refused to budge. “You have a responsibility to tell them.”

More responsibility talk. I was sick to death of it. “Mason, what am I going to tell them? That I saw someone murdered?
In a vision
?”

“You can tell them about what happened to Jonah Pruitt before he moved here. That’s enough to help them with their investigation of this case.”

“You and I both know the Henryetta Police are a band of imbeciles who look at a person’s past and decide they’re guilty before they know all the facts. I’m not putting someone else in that situation. No one should have to go through what…” My voice trailed off.

Mason’s face softened. “What you did.”

I pushed his arm. “Let me out.”

“No.” He lowered his gaze into my face. “No one should have to go through what you did, right?”

My hands balled into fists. “I’m not going to talk about this.”

“The police assumed you’d murdered your mother because they thought you were odd. You knew things you shouldn’t have known. They barely looked at the evidence, just presumed you guilty. They just had to wait to get enough evidence to arrest you.”

Helplessness bubbled up in my chest, making me anxious. “Stop.”

“Who believed you were innocent? Violet? Joe?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” I didn’t want to relive that awful time, when I felt so alone and desperate. I started crying again. “Mason, let me out. I just want to go home.”

He grabbed my shoulders. “Jonah Pruitt isn’t you, Rose. Bruce Wayne Decker wasn’t you.”

I pulled out of his grasp. “How can you say that? They’re just like me! Everyone was ready to send Bruce Wayne to the electric chair.”

“And what about you, Rose? What did people think about you?”

“
Why are you doin’ this, Mason
?” I cried, my shoulders shaking.

He reached up and wiped away my tears. “Because I want you to look good and hard at why you’re risking your life to help someone you hardly know.” He lifted my chin, his jaw squared in determination. “Why are you really doing this?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. Tell me.”

Why was I doing this? Because it really was the right thing to do. And because I wanted to save the woman in my vision. But Mason was right, it went deeper than that.

“Joe hates for you to take risks like this…hell, so do I. What makes you so determined to try to help someone you hardly know?”

“Because no one helped me.” Resentment washed through me. “Every person in this town would have gladly sent me to prison.” My jaw hardened. “No one fought for me.”

His eyes softened. “I would have fought for you, Rose.”

“Don’t do this, Mason.” I shook my head, my voice hardening. “You would have taken the pathetic evidence Detective Taylor collected, and you would have tried me before a jury of my peers.” I lifted my gaze to his. “And you would have sent me to prison for the rest of my life.”

His eyes widened in bewilderment. “How can you say that?”

My hands balled into fists, my anger raging. “Because you were doing exactly the same thing to Bruce Wayne when we met.”

His face paled.

I pushed against him again. “I have to go.”

“I don’t want you to leave with things like this.”

“Mason, please.” My voice broke. “I can’t do this right now.”

Panic filled his eyes. “I pushed you too hard. I’m sorry. I’m scared for you, Rose. I can’t stand back and watch you get hurt. I just want you to know what you’re getting into.”

I started crying again. “Mason.
Please
.”

He slid out of the booth, standing next to the table as I scrambled out. He started to follow me to the door, but the waitress shouted, “You can’t leave before you pay!”

I kept running, but Mason cursed under his breath as he stopped to pull out his wallet. I was opening the truck door when he reached me. “Rose. Don’t leave yet.”

Shutting the door, I faced the window, refusing to look at him.

He stood behind me. “You’re right.”

I closed my eyes.

“I would have tried you.” I could tell he was devastated to admit it. “I’d like to think I wouldn’t have, but you and I both know I was a hard son of a bitch when I came here. And we also both know you’re the one who helped me remember why I do this god-forsaken job.” He leaned closer to my ear. “Maybe that’s why I feel like I owe it to you to help you.”

“Help me do what?” I spun around to face him. “Help me remember how awful it was?”

Pain filled his eyes. “Yes.”

“Why would you do that, Mason? Why would you purposely hurt me? I thought we were friends.”

“We
are
friends. That’s why I’m doing it. You’ve been through more things in the last few months than anybody should have to go through, but you’re not dealing with it. You’re sweeping it under the rug, thinking it will go away if you just ignore it. But you can’t do that, Rose. You have to face it. Every last ugly bit of it.”

I shook my head, crying again.

“Until you face all the demons of your past, you’ll never be able to move into the future.” He pulled me into a hug, one hand on my back and the other digging into my hair. “I care about you Rose, more than you know.”

I cried into his shirt for far too long before finally pulling back, embarrassed. “I’ve ruined your dress shirt.”

“I don’t care about my shirt.”

I smoothed my hand across the wet spot on the blue oxford cloth. I knew he cared about me, and I was grateful for it. But I also realized he liked me more than a friend. As much as I knew I should send him away, I couldn’t. I didn’t want to lose him. What did that say about me? “Thank you.”

“For making you cry?”

“No, for caring about me enough to risk our friendship to help me.” I could see the truth in his words. I was stuck in my past. I needed to let it go so I would no longer hear the ghost of my mother telling me I wasn’t good enough. So I’d start believing that I deserved the good things in my life.

“So we’re okay?” he asked, but he still looked worried.

“We’re good.” But I felt terrible. My head hurt from crying. “But I just want to go home and take a nap.”

“Okay.” He hesitated. “But I want to call you later and check on you. Is that okay?”

“Sure.”

He took a step back. “If you need me for anything, and I mean anything, call me. Promise.”

“I promise.”

I climbed into the truck and drove home, the memory of my vision still playing in my head. I was no closer to helping that poor woman than I was when I first saw it. Muffy was glad to see me when I got home, and as soon as she did her business, I told her we were going inside so I could take a nap.

She was so happy I was with her that she didn’t put up a fuss, settling onto the bed next to me. I drifted off almost immediately, waking up to a muffled ring. Still groggy, I blinked as I tried to make out the alarm clock. It was five-fifteen. I’d slept for over two hours.

I realized the ringing was my cell phone, which was still in the kitchen. It had stopped ringing by the time I got up, but it started ringing again before I could reach it. I was surprised to see that it was Joe calling.

“Rose, why haven’t you called me back?” he asked, sounding worried.

I rubbed my eyes, still feeling half-asleep. “I didn’t know you’d called.”

“I’ve been trying to reach you since this morning. You never answered.” He paused. “I thought you decided you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“No.” I sat in the kitchen chair, resting my forehead on my hand. “My phone died, and I couldn’t get to a charger until this afternoon. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“What are you doing calling me and asking me to call you back? Are you done with your undercover job?”

“Yeah, we made an arrest early this morning.”

I sat up, relief washing through me. “Does that mean you’re coming home?” I needed Joe to hold me and tell me everything would be okay. The Henryetta police might not help me save the poor woman, but I felt certain that he would.

“Home.” His voice choked up. “Are you still my home, Rose?”

“Of course, Joe. I told you how much I love you.”

“I love you so much.” He sounded like he was about to cry. “But I have a favor to ask.”

Something in his voice set the hairs on my neck on end. “Of course.”

He hesitated. “My mother…” He cleared his throat. “My parents have planned a dinner tonight, and they’re insisting that I bring you to meet them.”

My breath hitched. “In El Dorado?”

“You still have time to make it. It’s at seven, and it will only take you about fifty minutes to get here.”

I sat up, panicking. “Joe, I’ve had a horrible day, and I only have about forty-five minutes to get ready.”

“I’ve seen you get ready in less than half that time.”

I pushed down my fear. The last thing I wanted to do tonight was face Joe’s family, especially with everything else I was handling. “Can’t I come another time?”

“I wish you could, darlin’. And I wish I was with you so we come together, but she insists it’s important. I’ll meet you when you get here.”

I wanted to ask him what would have happened if he were still undercover. How could he have gone then? Part of me wanted to tell them all no, to insist they needed to give me more notice, but I knew how much Joe dreaded this for me as well as himself. He wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I sighed in resignation. “What should I wear?”

“They dress up for dinner, so wear something pretty.”

“Okay…”

I heard voices in the background. “I have to go, darlin’. I’ll text you the address, and I’ll see you at seven.”

“All right.”

“I love you, Rose. When this is over, we’ll start over.”

I didn’t trust the excitement filling my head. “What does that mean?”

“It means I got the deputy sheriff job. I told you this was my last undercover assignment, and I meant it. I’m coming home with you for good.”

“Are you sure this is what you want, Joe?”

“I want to be with you all the time. This is the best way to make that happen.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’re happy.”

I smiled, happiness oozing through my words. “I’m happy.”

His voice turned husky. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

A wave of desire washed through me. “I can’t wait to see
you
.”

“I’m going to make this up to you, Rose. All of it.”

“I know.”

I hung up and took a quick shower, mentally searching through my closet to try and decide what to wear. I settled on a gauzy, floral dress with a semi-attached under-slip. I curled my hair and put on my makeup, dread filling my stomach and feeling like a ten-pound anchor. Meeting Joe’s parents was the last thing I wanted to do. But Joe wanted this so I’d do it to make him happy.

Even if it killed me.

Chapter Twenty-Five

I had plugged in the address of Joe’s parents’ house into my phone, but I was sure it had steered me wrong when I started down the street of older houses. Joe’s parents were rich, and while the houses lining the street were much larger than my house, they weren’t as pretentious as I’d expected they’d be.

I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. At the end of the street sat a large brick and stone older house with landscaping that under other circumstances would have made me drool. A wrought iron fence surrounded the property, but the gates to the circular drive stood open. The brick-laid driveway was lined with luxury cars.

My blood turned to sludge. Joe and I weren’t the only ones attending this dinner, apparently. Far from it.

I was five minutes early, and I considered driving around the block to kill time since Joe had told me he’d meet me at the door a couple of minutes before seven. Then I realized how silly that was and lifted my chin. Rose Gardner was done being scared.

I parked my truck behind a Mercedes and stood next to my truck, staring at the front door. I pulled out my phone and texted Joe that I was out front. When he didn’t answer after a full minute, I took a deep breath, digging deep for my courage. I had nothing to be ashamed of. Joe’s parents would either like me or they wouldn’t. Standing outside another couple of minutes wasn’t going to change a thing.

Nevertheless, I was flushed and out of breath when I pushed the doorbell. A long chime rang throughout the house, only adding to my anxiety. When an elderly man wearing a suit and an uptight attitude opened the door, looking me up and down like I was yesterday’s trash, I knew I was in trouble.

He stared down his nose. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Rose.” My voice sounded croaky, so I cleared my throat. “Rose Gardner. Joe’s expecting me.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly, and he backed up, opening the door wider. “Ms. Gardner.” He drew my name out into a long drawl. “Everyone is in the living room.”

My breath came in shallow pants, and I told myself I was being ridiculous. Joe’s parents might have money, but that didn’t mean they were any better than me. Why was I so scared?

But as I followed the butler, my heels clicked on the marble floor, echoing throughout the two-story entryway and around the double rounded staircase. Oil paintings hung on the walls, and the mahogany credenza under one of them was probably worth more than my truck. How had Joe grown up this way? The man I knew wasn’t stuffy and pretentious. No wonder he never talked about his past.

The butler stopped at the entrance to a large room lined with ten foot windows that overlooked a garden comparable only to those I’d seen in magazines. But any admiration I felt was squashed by the fact that every person in the room was wearing a long evening gown or tuxedo, whereas I was standing in the doorway in my J.C. Penney’s dress. And to make matters worse, Joe wasn’t even here yet.