15. Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Fifteen
Remington James
P erma-grin plastered to my face, I finagle my way out of Grady’s bed with the morning light causing me to squint. Our repeat performance after waking up as the sun was rising knocked both Wilder and Grady out cold. Knowing I need to be at Hidden Treasures before Ceily opens today to help her, and needing to check in on Droolius are the only reasons I’d drag myself away from them. Kissing each of their cheeks, I dodge Wilder’s arm as he flips, grabbing ahold of Grady’s waist.
I slip back into the spare bedroom to retrieve my clothes from yesterday, expecting to find both Cal and Charlie gone. They’re both still asleep. Cal with his limbs spread out, Charlie with a leg over the side of the bed like he was escaping Cal’s middle of the night flailing. Taking a moment to appreciate the sight of them, I tuck the loose bed sheet around Charlie, tossing a part of it over Cal’s bottom half. I kiss the bird I drew over Cal’s heart, then the bird I drew under Charlie’s pec. I linger a few seconds longer watching them sleep. Cal’s eyes move rapidly under his eyelids as he repositions himself, Charlie’s lips curl up in a smile before he sighs.
I’m not sure how I’ll say goodbye, even temporarily, to all four of them, when all I want to do is stay in their orbit. Or keep them in mine.
Not wanting to leave Cal and Charlie without an explanation, since Wilder and Grady may still be sleeping when they wake, I find the complementary pad of paper and pen sitting on the counter by the landline phone. Penning a note to each of them, I finish it off with a funny caricature of me. At Hidden Treasures dodging food offerings and acquiring more hats-call later, Love Remi.
I don’t want them to miss the notes, so I tuck Charlie’s in the pocket of his khaki shorts, and then I move to Cal’s black athletic shorts to do the same. My hand snags on something that falls out when I remove it. A crinkled photo that stops me cold when I pick it up. In a panic I shove it back in Cal’s pocket before racing from the room. I keep whispering to myself as I take long strides to my cabin, “Don’t think about it, don’t think about it. There has to be a reason. It’s not… it can’t be…” What reason would he have? To have a picture of a drowning girl in his pocket?
Everything comes back to me in a sickening wave: his refusal to talk about the past, Carlotta’s suspect list, access to the Funpark security and grounds as an employee, he admitted to spending a lot of time growing up at Lakeside Park, he met with Carlotta before we arrived, he was outside her office after it was ransacked and evidence disappeared, Father Lowe’s mention of a concerning note from his class, Susanna’s crush, his sister being critical of him, Mark coaching him in baseball, Katie’s diary, the detective warning me about my new friends. With each step my resolve to keep it together falls apart and I’m bent over crying outside my bedroom. It makes no sense, none. I automatically try to make excuses for it all. The reasons he looks suspicious. But it’s futile. I’m in love with a person capable of murder. Wilder thinks I’m in danger, for the first time I believe it. Did he react the way he did over the necklace because it meant I’m next? Does he care even a little bit, or should I accept he lied about everything? Does it matter?
He’s the monster we were warned about.
How could my goofball, fun loving, warm Cal be behind all the tragedy here in Lake Hollow? I make it to the bathroom just in time to vomit in the toilet. The retching continues while I sob.
“Remi? Are you sick?” Nat says to me through the bathroom door.
On so many levels. Is it sickness that the love I have for him remains, even though I’m reframing so many interactions. “Mmm, give me a minute,” I manage between hurling more stomach bile.
I need to talk to Charlie. How do I tell him that the person that is closer to him than his brother, killed Katie? I have no proof, not really. Just an overwhelming amount of what the detective called circumstantial evidence.
When I finally emerge from the bathroom, I’m shaky, pale, and sweaty, Nat’s eyes widen. “You should lay down.”
I refuse, moving like a zombie through my normal morning routine with Droolius. Wordlessly I accept the cup of coffee from Natalie with the cocoa in it that I like. “Where were you last night? I was worried.” She leans her head onto my arm. “I tried to call you.”
My phone is laying half under my bed.
“Sorry, Nat. I was at Grady’s cabin.” A sudden thought makes my panic fly to the red zone. I grab her arm looking her in the eye. “I can’t really explain this right now, but whatever you do… don’t be alone with Cal at work. Anywhere for that matter. You should try to let Mitchell know that, too.” The tears bubble up again even though I fight them back by blinking forcefully.
“Cal? Did he do something to you?”
Just tore my heart from my chest.
“Please. Just trust me, okay?”
She sucks her lips in, before replying, “Umm, do you remember when I wanted Mitch to tell you what he’d told me that day on the dock?”
God, I can’t take anymore confirmation. If you exist, could you throw me a lifeline of some sort?
“Uh huh, he told me that I shouldn’t date either Charlie or Cal, because they’re leaving. Was there more to that?” Jeezus, Mitchell. I sink into the dining room chair, a hand pressed against the heart slamming inside in my chest.
She nods slightly, before staring out the window. “After Carlotta died, he was pretty upset.” Natalie can take a lifetime to get to the point when she’s telling a story, but I don’t try to hurry her along. Devastation doesn’t need to come barreling at me quickly. “He said that Carlotta had a talk with him two days before her accident. She told him to be careful around Cal, Grady, and Charlie.”
Taking a stuttered breath, I’m relieved it’s not news to me. Because of the letter, I already knew she had a suspect list.
I simply nod at her. “For now, just steer clear of him. Okay?” I catch myself before I start to cry again. How do I cope with this? Do I confront him in a public place? Do I tell Wilder, Charlie, and Grady? Or do I keep my mouth shut until I leave? If the police can’t arrest him because he covered his tracks that well, what chance do I stand finding solid proof?
My heart is fucking stupid.
When Relia died, I was angry about all the times she’d lied to my face. Over and over. I swore I’d never love someone capable of doing that again. But I have. It’s worse this time, I had no choice over the mother I had. I chose Cal. I denied the mounting suspicions and I continued to love him.
Now, I have to use the brain I was given and ignore my treacherous heart. I need to protect the hearts of Charlie, Grady, and Wilder. They deserve it.