Chapter 12
Confessional Wine
Maria nestled into her favorite spot at Mama Cate's. The bistro table had barely enough room for two, but it was close to the small fireplace and partially hidden from the rest of the store by the Historical Romance bookshelf.
"Thanks Nina," she said, taking the two glasses of wine the college kid delivered. The girl that manned the shop most evenings did a double take at Shane as he walked back from the bathroom. Maria didn't blame her. Shane was comically attractive. The kind of attractive only seen on TV—good cheekbones, broad shoulders, and the easy smile you could show off to your parents or lose your mind over in bed.
He didn't notice Maria ogling him while he attempted to fold himself into the corner. He seemed to settle on stretching his long legs out along one side of her, angled towards the smuttiest books in the shop.
"Sorry," she said. "This is my favorite spot. I didn't think about someone over 5ft 2 sitting here."
"I love it," he said, waving her off and resting his hands on his stomach. He looked perfectly at ease lounging in her spot.
She took a sip of her wine as he squinted at the shelves behind her. He asked, "Is that book really called, The Dirtiest Billionaire?"
Maria snorted. "Yes, it's part of the Bad Boys of Boulevard series. I'm pretty sure there are at least a few copies left if you want one."
"Nope, I'm good," he said, chuckling.
She wasn't ready to dive into what they were both doing at Greg's place, or acknowledge his claim that he was there to get Dave's case off her. Maria realized it was hard to stay mad at him, despite her best efforts.
So she told him about the Book Club instead. "Our most popular book club comes in after bridge on the last Thursday of the month. It's a pack of old biddies that try to one up each other with the filthiest lines from those books."
She set her wine glass aside so her hands wouldn't knock it over. It was impossible to talk about this group without some animation. "They start drinking at bridge so most are tipsy when they walk in. Mind you, this is maybe three o'clock in the afternoon. They claim they’re just retelling the most romantic lines, but everyone knows the smuttiest ones win. Whomever they deem the winner has to stand up and wave something like their scarf or jacket over their heads while everyone else chants her name. On one particularly late Book Club, one of the oldest women there took off her bra through a sleeve and waved it around like a helicopter."
"Shut up," Shane said, laughing. "I don't think I want to know who. What do the men say when they're in here?"
"Are you kidding me, on that Thursday? Every Hinnewatchan male knows to stay away. The only one brave enough is Hamby, and that's just because if it gets too unruly he knows that Cate will ditch the barista counter to join them and he'll need to man the place solo."
He laughed out loud, so clear and full of joy that she leaned in conspiratorially. "Do you want to know a secret?"
Shane quieted and leaned closer, "Always."
"I caught Hamby reading one of their books behind his paper."
He leaned back, belly laughing. A few tables were taken by college kids and teenagers, or regulars lost in their own books. The fire to her side crackled and she realized that Mama Cate's had become a sort of shelter for her in the last few months. She loved coming here alone to this table to curl up with a book on her break, but seeing Shane across from her felt right despite all the reasons why it shouldn’t. She tried to ignore it, but the more time she spent with him, the harder it became to keep her secrets from him.
His laughter died down, and they sat in companionable silence for a beat as he toyed with the frayed edge of a napkin. "I always thought I'd turn into a Hamby," he said quietly.
She cocked her head, not following, so he explained in between sips of wine. "Like old-man-love content. The kind of guy that loves even just being in the room with his old and gray wife. Hamby's been like that for decades. Have you seen the way he still looks at Cate?"
"Oh I know, it's enough to make you swoon," Maria said. "I always thought they fit like puzzle pieces. She's all sharp edges and loud and crass, and he's quiet and patient and lets her shove her way into any conversation." She watched the firewood burn for a minute and embraced the wine warming her veins. "Do you think you'll still find your Cate?"
He didn't answer right away, but watched her with the same intensity that he had in her garden when she all but spilled her darkest secrets to him. She hadn't known him long, but she felt completely at ease with him. The feeling was unnerving.
Shane cleared his throat and answered, "I think I will. But I don't think she'll be in LA."
Mama Cate's after dinner crowd had trickled out while they talked, so only a couple patrons remained, their conversations murmured. Nina played Paolo Nutini's Autumn Leaves on low, and Shane added another gnarled log to the fire next to them.
Maria waited for the crackling flames to settle back down before she spoke again. "If she's not in LA, will you go back there when this is all done?"
He ripped at the corner of the paper napkin now, slow and deliberate so that one side fringed. "I used to think that living anywhere but LA, New York, or Chicago was too boring. But the older I get, and more importantly, the older Emily gets, the more I realize I've overlooked the charms of a small town."
She had hoped for a minute that he would say that town was Hinnewatcha specifically. Even foolishly wished that he'd hint that she was reason enough to stay in this particular small town. You married someone so atrocious that murder was the only way out, Maria. Pretty sure the models and actresses he's used to don't have that type of baggage. Besides, the last thing you need is another man in your life.
Nina walked over then, disrupting Maria's headfirst dive into self-pity. "Hey Maria, you think you can lock up when you leave? I have a date and that last couple over there just paid the tab."
"No problem, Nina. Have fun and I'll take care of everything."
Nina walked out to kiss a young man waiting for her on the sidewalk. Maria shook off the tinge of jealousy and focused instead on the good man in front of her. He wasn't hers, he had no obligations to her, and yet he still went to dangerous lengths to help her. She stood up and fetched the rest of the bottle from the counter, lost in thought.
She'd binge watched his show in her room every night the last week, and no episode had him looting through potential drug dealers' homes on behalf of a bereaved family. She could distrust him like she'd distrusted most men before her, but she was tired. Tired of being paranoid. Tired of men disappointing her, hurting her. But she’d never thought all men were bad. Even in the depths of misery with Dave, she knew good men were out there. She’d just let herself believe for some insane reason that she only deserved Dave.
She’d come to the conclusion in the garden earlier that, despite how wrong it looked on paper, she trusted Shane to help. She knew she could figure this out without his assistance, but she didn’t have to. Asking for help wasn’t a sign of weakness, and some fights don’t have to be fought alone. And she’d fought on her own unnecessarily for too long.
The wine also helped loosen her tongue.
"I don't know why, Shane, but I trust you," she said as she sat back down and topped off their glasses.
He quickly looked away from the fire and focused that intensity on her, so she went on before she could lose her nerve. She took a deep breath. "I killed my husband."
Tears threatened to spring, so she willed them into the back of her head as she chuckled, "Wow. That felt surprisingly good to say out loud."
Shane leaned forward, taking her hands in his across the table. "Thank you for telling me that. And I should have talked to you first, but you can trust me and my family. We'll protect you, Maria. No one will find out if I can do anything about it."
"Why?" Maria asked, knowing she should take her hands back but not quite ready to do so. She also knew she shouldn't kick a gift horse in the mouth, but she was weary of those horses because some nasty ones had left their mark. "Why are you protecting me? You could be done with your show, done with this town, and not implicate yourself in the process by turning me in."
"Because, despite us not knowing each other well, I trust you, too. And I don't care how you did it, but if you felt cornered enough that the only way out was killing him, I'm ok with that."
She wanted to curl up in his arms and have a solid cry, but she ignored that urge. She shifted her hands out of his, and asked, "So, now what?"
"Now, you and I will figure out a plan. Walk me through your conversation with Chief Madison one more time?"
***
Shane hadn’t registered how bad he wanted Maria to trust him until she confessed. He hadn’t known her long, but he wanted her to know that he’d do everything he could to protect her. In the span of just a few days she’d become someone he wanted to be around, despite his best attempts to ignore it. He wanted to talk to her, to hear her unfettered laugh. He cared about women before her, but not with the same intensity or escalation. All the nausea he'd felt raging since their fight dissipated, and the problems they needed to address suddenly seemed surmountable instead of impossible.
He listened to her recap, trying not to get distracted by the way she bit her full bottom lip when she was in thought, or the way her soft curves looked in the firelight. He'd dated his fair share of decent and horrible women back in LA, but the last thing Maria needed was his baggage dropped at her front door. She had enough on her plate, and had for some time now. He couldn't imagine putting her in danger simply because he kept wondering what it'd be like to have her in his arms. But he, selfishly, could use a friend.
He’d lost touch with the friends he'd made in this town decades ago, and most had moved away not long after him. Shane was chummy with a handful of his coworkers, but there was no one he'd call if he ran out of sugar. Let alone call to work through his myriad of kidnapper, murders, and poltergeist problems. He felt like Maria would help him work through any problem.
"What?" Maria asked, stopping her recap midway. "Why are you smiling?"
"Sorry. It's just that I'm glad you're not mad at me anymore. I like having you as a friend."
He didn't recognize the look that brushed over her face, so he pushed on with what they needed to discuss. "OK. Back to business. Tat Face is living on Greg's property. Even if what the mayor says is true and all the short term properties are taken, why would he do that? The next town's only an hour from here. There must be at least some rooms to rent there."
"I don't know," Maria said. "Maybe like calls to like? One shady fellow feels more comfortable with another?"
"Or, he's not in town for you," Shane said, "but because he's involved with Greg's side drug business. Chief Madison said Greg served time for minor dealing years ago. Maybe they met there."
"Or he could be staying near Greg to see if he has the stash of pills Levi thinks they stole. Maybe he's from another gang and is waiting to make his move to hurt Greg."
"We'll need to talk to Madison soon about this," Shane said, his mind stuck on her word choice. Gang. He lingered on another reason Tat Face could be in town, gut sinking, but pushed past that for the moment.
Maria nodded, quiet for a minute. "Shane, if Greg and Dave stole drugs from the wrong guy, would that be enough for the police to assume Dave was murdered because of it?"
"I think so," Shane replied as he leaned back in the small space. "It doesn't have to be true. Just murky enough to take the most likely suspect, which is always the spouse, off the table."
He crossed his arms, not wanting to push her away but he had to ask. "Maria, I went through Dave's files. Why didn't you go to the police when Dave first hit you?"
She grew quiet before answering. "The first couple times I really thought it was a fluke. He was so sorry, so apologetic, crying—the works. We'd go months where nothing happened, and then he'd come home loaded and fly off the handle. He was always brimming with anger, but it was subtle at first. I thought it was something I did wrong. Some—” she waved her hand in the air and shook her head. “— deficiency on my end that if I just fixed it, if I just stopped, I could keep that anger from spilling over.”
She held her hand up, incorrectly assuming he’d interrupt her. She continued, “I know now how ridiculous that sounds. It took some soul searching, some time, and a hell of a lot of self-help podcasts, but I started to build my confidence and expectations back up, in spite of being married to him. I brought up divorce, and he said he'd never leave his town, his house. That I was his. That I should be grateful for the mortgage and bills that I split, because I’d been desperate when we first arrived. Apparently, “divorce” wasn’t in his family’s vocabulary, as if they were some Camelot of aspiration. I realized then that I'd never be truly free of him, so I went to the cops—it was before Levi was there. The chief at the time came to my house. I didn't realize he was Dave's friend's dad. He didn't write a report, just promised to have a chat with Dave."
What a bastard, Shane thought, grateful again for Levi Madison taking over. "Let me guess, the chat didn't help?"
"That's an understatement. Dave laughed that time, said no one would believe me because he never hit my face. I think that was the night I decided enough was enough. We had to leave." Maria stood up and locked the door as the last couple left, turned off the open sign, and sat back down across from him. He sat on his hands so he wouldn’t try to pull her to him as she breathed out a weary sigh before continuing. She watched the table as she continued. "I packed our bags while Isa was at a friend’s house and Dave was supposed to be at work. My plan was to pick Isa up and head straight to my aunt’s. He knew my mom’s address, but not hers.”
“The bags were on the kitchen table when he came home early. I didn’t hear him pull up. I had gone to Evelyn & Cindy’s to leave a note at their back door. But that also meant that I didn’t hear Isa come home early, too.” Shane covered his mouth, but didn’t stop her. He recognized that she needed to say her story so he stayed silent even as her words wrecked him.
“I walked in to find all hell had broken loose. He’s screaming in Isa’s face, as if any of this was her doing, and I pushed him. I shoved him as hard as I could and he was angrier than I’d ever seen. I told Isa to go next door, but she put herself between us. He’d turned on the stove at some point, and so when he shoved her out of the way she hit her hand on the hot stove. She still has the burn marks on her knuckles."
Maria crossed her arms tight against her chest, and Shane couldn’t stop himself from dragging his chair to be next to her. He didn’t move to touch her, and stayed quiet while she decided if she wanted to keep going or not. She cleared her throat and continued, still not meeting his eyes. “He stormed out after, shouting something about Isa knowing her place and that he’d make sure she learned it. He took my keys and my cell phone that night. Said he’d always find me, no matter where I went. It didn’t matter. The moment I saw him in Isa’s face I knew what I needed to do.”
“I mapped out a plan in the back of my mind for months, just in case. I think mentally listing out all the steps that might need to happen put me at ease, so it was just a matter of ticking through that list.”
"By that time," she continued, her gaze steady on the fire, "the old police chief retired to Florida, which helped. Getting around someone that was vested in Dave was always going to be problematic. I knew Greg could be an issue, but not as much as a cop. They brought Levi in from somewhere else, and I could tell he was different, would be on my side. But I didn’t want to wait around for the court system to fix a problem I knew how to resolve. Dave was never the type to honor a restraining order anyway. I was determined to see Dave put in the ground.” She looked at him then, her gaze unflinching. “So I did."
"I'm glad you did," Shane said, trying to tamp down the anger he wanted to unleash on a dead man. “You don’t have to tell me how if you’re not comfortable, but it might help if I know the whole picture.”
She nodded, “It’s fine. I don’t plan on ever repeating this story to anyone and it feels cathartic to run through it once aloud.” She blew out a breath, her face framing curls dancing for a moment.
“I learned that Dave was deathly allergic to almonds a few months prior. So I made sure I worked an evening shift on the night when Isa had a slumber party at a friend’s house. But before I left, I injected every pill he kept in his coat pocket, every pill he ferreted away in the house, and every bottle of liquor we had with a tiny bit of almond oil. Enough to cause a reaction that would have him reaching for his Epipen that I filled to the brim with almond oil. I made plans to have wine at Evelyn and Cindy’s and play cards with their friends after my shift ended, but before I walked into their home and with all those people that would vouch for my whereabouts, I slipped in my back door.”
“Dave always took a couple pills after his shift, you could set your watch to it, and he always washed them down with whatever booze we had. It was no surprise that his body was already cold by the time I snuck in. I put on latex gloves I’d brought home from Cate’s and injected him with a syringe of Valium that he thought he hid from me. And then I texted Greg from Dave’s phone to come over. I took the Epipen and the gloves and threw them away in Evelyn’s outside trash can, and walked through their front door right on time.”
Shane was morbidly impressed, and said as much. “It should have worked.”
“It should have worked,” Maria echoed, nodding. “But I wasn’t expecting Greg to get so involved. Honestly, it’s like he’s more clear now than he ever was when Dave was alive. And I assumed, after what felt like months of researching, that a full syringe of Valium would be enough to make any coroner call it an overdose.”
Shane ripped up another napkin as he worked through everything she’d told him and how they could get caught. He asked after a moment,"Do you know what he and Greg did whenever they were up at the farm?"
She shook her head. "No. I avoided him as much as I could so whenever he left the house I didn’t question it. But he seemed to have more cash on him," She stopped Shane before he got too excited, "Not like tons. He was always paycheck to paycheck. But enough that he was planning to fix up his truck with these ridiculous tires and lights."
"That might be enough. Hell," Shane said, running a hand through his hair and leaning back. "He might have actually stolen the drugs. He was obviously stupid enough not to realize that by some miracle he’d landed a perfect woman. I wouldn't put it past him to steal from a bigger dealer."
Maria blushed and he leaned in again. She knew it, but he wanted to remind her that Dave was an insecure, terrible man. And that not all men were like that. But his cell phone buzzed with a text and he glanced down. He could feel the blood draining from his face.
"What is it?" Maria asked, concerned.
"It's Emily. She's in trouble, and I don't have my car."
Maria threw a cup of water on the fire, its steam hissing away the cozy warmth in an instant. "I'll drive, we'll get your car in the morning."
Shane tried to ignore the carousel of terrible what-ifs as they locked up behind them as fast as they could. He barely heard Maria's conversation with the 9-1-1 operator as she pulled out of the parking spot. Every time he reread Emily's text his fear grew.
Help. Hiding at D's Diesel. Something in the woods.