Chapter Twenty-Two Raine
Chapter Twenty-Two
Raine
I turned off the main road, the ache in my upper back sharpening as I passed Hale House’s brick pillars. Turns out strangulation can mess up the vertebrae in your upper spine.
The gravel drive snaked past a line of ancient oaks, their branches knitting overhead like dark ribs.
As I crested the hill, I spotted a dark sedan parked in front of Hale House. I recognized the car—Ken’s.
My fingers tightened around the steering wheel. I parked beside his driver’s-side door. Phone pressed to his ear, he stared off toward a grove of trees. Looking toward me, he grinned and motioned that he’d be another moment.
Show up unannounced. Keep me waiting. So Ken.
Out of the car, I rolled stiff shoulders and strode up to the front door, not glancing back. I wasn’t in the mood to be polite or second-guess motives.
“Hey!” Ken shouted as he followed. “No hug?”
I faced him. “Out of hugs, Ken. What do you want?”
He always looked good. Hair styled with crisp edges, nails cut neat and buffed, suits that molded to his fit body. He would age well, I realized. Even at eighty, he’d find a way to stand out.
Ken ducked his head, his gaze upward like a contrite child’s. “I’m concerned about you.”
“Ken, please, it’s been a long couple of days. Cut to the chase.”
“You were attacked three weeks ago. I’m worried about you.”
His charm offensives were indeed a work of art.
“Pete is posting bail.” His voice was flat, his gaze lingering on my face.
“When?”
“In a few hours.”
Fear clawed at my frayed nerves. “Bail was set at a half million dollars.”
“You know how the system works.”
I did. I’d worked it for years. “I should’ve been notified immediately.”
Ken took a step closer, the faint scent of woodsy aftershave clinging to his jacket. “Again, the system doesn’t always work.”
My gaze skimmed past him. The headache pounded harder.
Hands slid into his pockets. “This wasn’t meant to be a gotcha moment, Raine. I thought you should know.”
“You could’ve called.”
“Bigger than a phone conversation.”
“I’d have handled it.”
His grin widened. “Maybe. But I thought you deserved more.”
“I don’t from you.”
He dipped his head, looking remorseful. A classic Ken move. “I’m not a choirboy, Raine. But I do care about you. I want you safe.”
What hidden agenda lurked under the words? “I’m fine. Thank you for checking in.”
“No signs of Pete?”
The mists had shifted this morning. Steps creaked. “Unless he has a rocket, it takes three hours to drive here.”
He glanced at the chipped paint on the siding. “The old place is looking a little rough.”
“Never good to insult a woman’s appearance.”
He grinned. “What’re you going to do with her?”
“Don’t know.”
“How could you not know? Selling is the only choice. She’s nothing but trouble.”
So was he. “Ken, thank you for stopping. Have a safe drive back to Northern Virginia.”
“There was a time when all we did was laugh.”
He could make me laugh. And so wet. I remembered our first purchase for the Alexandria house—a coffee table so new the sales tag still dangled from the side.
He’d ordered me to sit on it. Scoot to the edge.
The quiet order had been thrilling. So, I did.
Then, as instructed, I lay back and put my hands over my head.
He pulled off my shorts and pressed my legs apart.
His hungry stare raked over me. When he shoved inside me, I’d come almost instantly.
The feeling had been intoxicating.
And then reality rushed us. Jobs, stress, the dull days of marriage that followed. He spent more time on the road. And then the text messages.
“It’s done, Ken. Thanks again for coming.”
“I’m staying in town for a few days. I’ve checked into the hotel on Route 250.”
“Why?”
“I’m worried. A woman, a good friend of mine, your cousin, was poisoned. Pete Miller. I want to make sure you’re safe.”
“It’s Judson’s case.”
“Yeah, well, a little backup doesn’t hurt anyone.”
“You aren’t a cop.”
“I have more connections than he does.”
There’d always been a one-upmanship between Ken and Judson. Less for Judson, maybe because Ken was aware he’d come in second. “I’ll leave it to you gentlemen.”
I opened the front door. Hinges squeaked as I closed it. I waited for the sound of Ken’s footsteps crossing the porch—for his engine to fire. Silence said he lingered, waiting for what, I didn’t know. I hid in the house, and shadows wrapped around me.
I’d lived a coward’s life. Too afraid to demand Judson pay attention to me in high school. Too selfish to ask Amy why she was copying my appearance. Too afraid to confront Ken until it was impossible not to.
Steady footsteps crossed the front porch. A car engine revved. The relief was temporary. Just knowing he was in town meant I would see him again.
I climbed the stairs to my room and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt. Down the hallway, I moved to my old bedroom and opened my closet, filled with stale and dusty air. Odd to see clothes hanging on racks where I’d left them seventeen years ago.
The Hale estate trust had settled quickly. I was the sole heir. The estate had covered my education and supplied me with some monthly spending money. But the bulk remained in reserve for land taxes.
When I left after high school graduation, I thought I’d return by the winter holiday break. But as the time approached, I found excuses not to. My few drive-by visits had always lasted less than an hour.
Now my thirty-fifth birthday was Wednesday. A date that had seemed so distant once was days away. Five hundred acres of land, a crumbling house, and debts would all be mine.
I rooted around on the closet floor. Dusty sandals. Riding boots from when we still had horses. Junior prom heels—silver with thin straps I’d worn with a blue designer dress.
Beyond the heels, my fingers skimmed the red waterproof waders that had sat untouched since high school. Dried dirt still clung to the heels. The last time I’d worn these, I’d been hiking to the creek bed where Judson and I had found Mom’s body.
Downstairs, I set them by the kitchen’s back door. I made a peanut butter sandwich and grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator. As I ate, I looked out across the field toward the path that led to Edith’s house. The land was still. No movement. No Pete.
I dug the last two aspirin from my purse and swallowed them, washing them down with water from the faucet.
Outside, I tugged on the boots, kicked off the dried dirt. I locked the door and stared out across the field, past the cemetery, toward the path through the woods. Silence. I was alone.
Sunlight filtered through the trees, and as I burrowed deeper into the thicket, the world behind me vanished.
This stretch of woods was a no-man’s-land, lingering between the living and the dead.
It had been years since Maria and I had walked these woods, but some of the happier memories remained sharp and clear.
Maria and I were on our way to see Gabe. We took the path along the creek toward the shallow spot where crossing was easy.
“It’s where that killer lives. The one that took those girls all those years ago,” Maria whispered.
“There are no missing girls,” I insisted.
“Sure, there are. Remember the festival girls?”
My grin wobbled. Fifteen years ago, four girls had vanished from a music festival. Decades and the bodies hadn’t been found. “Okay, enough.”
She stopped, facing me and blocking my path. “Are you afraid, Raine?”
“No.”
“You are. I can see the way your lip wobbles.”
I was good at hiding my fear—Maria was better at jerking my chain. When we hit high school, ghost stories weren’t as thrilling as boys.
In the distance, something cut through the woods.
My heart jumped. Silence ticked. Hands in my pockets, I continued along the path.
The woods grew denser between the houses.
The branches reached out into the path, grabbing at my coat as I followed the rocky path.
An animal darted in the woods alongside me, mirroring my path.
Distracted, I tripped on a root, forcing me to take several large steps to right myself.
I rounded the bend toward the wooded tunnel as it opened into the light.
Relieved, I stepped into the high grass of the clearing.
A hundred feet beyond stood the small brick rancher that had been Edith Durant’s home for over twenty years.
The former housekeeper had left suddenly, and Mom needed help.
She’d found Edith Durant from a want ad. Mom had hired her on the spot.
Edith had moved in with her son, Gabe, who was twelve at the time. While Gabe had been all smiles, his mother’s grins never eased the etched frown lines around her mouth.
The tall grass brushed my knees as I moved toward the cut grass around the house. I rang the bell. Young, fast footsteps ran toward the door. It snapped open and Molly stood there, wearing a sheet and a circle of ivy in her curly hair.
“Who are you?” the girl asked.
We’d FaceTimed on her birthday, but the call clearly didn’t make an impression. “I’m Raine Hale. I’m your cousin.” My relationship with the girl had been a casualty of the cold war with Maria.
“My middle name is Hale,” Molly said.
“I know.”
“How do you know?”
“I grew up with your mother. I lived in the big house on the other side of the woods.”
She frowned. “The house with ghosts.”
Unable to keep the amusement from my expression, I nodded. “That’s the one.”
“Have you met a ghost?”
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
She regarded me. “I’m a Roman senator today.”
“Senator, how did you find your way here from ancient Rome?”
“Grandma is reading a book to me about Rome. It was my idea to dress up. The ivy is supposed to be a hat. It’s from the garden.”
I plucked at a wilting leaf. “It’s very realistic.”
“It’s not gold. The Romans wore gold.”
Maria had always been brilliant. Able to think multiple steps ahead, she’d always been the smartest Hale. Not a surprise her daughter was very bright. “I’m sure some of the garlands were green.”
“Maybe.”
“Molly.” Edith rounded a corner, her phone and reading glasses in hand. Frown lines deepened to what must’ve been a new level. Thick bands of silver streaked her black hair and drained color from her pale skin. “Raine.”
I straightened, keeping my hands on Molly’s shoulders. “Hey, Edith.”
Her brow shifted as if determining the purpose of my visit. “Molly, can you look in the freezer and see if there is one more ice cream bar?”
“There isn’t,” Molly said. “I looked.”
“Look deep, behind the bags of broccoli. There’s one more.”
Molly grinned. “Okay!”
When the child ran off, I said to Edith, “Maria is awake. She’s talking, and she’s alert.”
Edith’s shoulders softened as some tension melted. “Thank God.”
Odd Gabe hadn’t told her. “You should be able to visit her soon.”
“I don’t want to take Molly to the hospital.”
“I can watch her.”
Her head shook. “She’s doing well. Better we give it a little time, so we know Maria is in good shape. Gabe is there?”
“Yes. The doctor has asked us all to leave her to rest, but he’ll be back with her soon.”
“Do the doctors know what caused it?”
I hesitated. “I don’t think they do.”
“Doctors. They aren’t as smart as they think they are.”
“They’re taking good care of Maria.”
“I found it!” Molly shouted from the kitchen.
“Great, honey. Eat it up!” Edith said.
“Maria’s recovery is going to take weeks, months. I want to help with Molly.”
“I’m taking care of Molly. But thank you.”
First cousin once removed didn’t trump grandmothers. I’d never pushed for a relationship with Molly after Maria stopped talking to me, but circumstances had changed. “I want to see Molly more often.”
Edith seemed wary. “How long are you back?”
“For some time.”
“What does that mean? A week or a year?”
“Until I deal with Hale House. That won’t happen in a week or likely a year.”
“What are you going to do with the house? The land?”
“Not sure yet. All comes down to money.”
“You’re a Hale. Money shouldn’t be a big problem.”
Most assumed the Hale fortune was as deep as the ocean. Few knew it was as shallow as a puddle. “When can I see Molly?”
“You and Maria haven’t spoken in a year. Why now?”
“I want a relationship with Maria and also Molly. They are my only family. I want to turn the page.”
“I’ll think about it. Obviously, we have a lot going on as a family now.”
She said family in a way that didn’t include me. “I’ll ask Maria,” I said.
Edith’s frown soured. “Thank you for stopping by, Raine.”
“I’ll see you soon, Edith.”