Buried Secrets, page 9
“It could.” She laughed. “Not sure how, but yeah, could be worse. I’ve spent my life explaining my name. If I were a little smarter, I’d go to court and change it.”
“No. Don’t do that. I like it.”
A ghost of a smile crossed Tuesday’s face. “My turn to ask a question. What did you mean earlier when you said you’ve seen my face?”
Ah, the moment had arrived, and she needed to make a decision post-haste. For a few seconds, she stared into Tuesday’s eyes. What she saw there helped her decide. “You may think I’m crazy and ask me to leave, but here’s the thing. I have visions.”
* * *
After his guest left, October took another shower. He leaned on the bathroom counter and stared into the mirror. “Cleanliness is next to godliness.” He laughed. Good-looking and funny. How did one guy have it all? Not a big wonder how a pointed glance and an innuendo got handsome men showing up at his door. Worked more times than not.
He stood at the window, his robe open, and stared at the rain. The crappy weather didn’t want to give up, and he didn’t feel an urgent need to drive through the dark with limited vision and the irritating sound of wipers swiping back and forth. Hard to think with that kind of clatter. He turned away from the window and stared at the messed-up bed. Might as well settle in for the night. The day had been full, and at least here he could kick back while reliving it all in his head. A little consolation to being thwarted by Mother Nature.
Much more fun to be out in the world making things happen, meeting people, and creating his special art. Being stuck here pretty much sucked. At the table, he ran his fingers over the charcoal drawing he’d created earlier. The handsome face still filled him with excitement, as did the memory of how he’d felt when the night ended. Those significant moments in everyone’s lives had a way of lingering in both the head and the heart. Certainly held true for him.
The scotch in the mini-bar gone, he thought about turning on the television and zoning out to some boring show. That lasted all of about two minutes, and then he dressed to go out. When he’d driven through town earlier, he’d noticed a grocery store, and surely they’d have what he wanted. Or at least something that would numb him. He didn’t tolerate inactivity well. Never had, and the thought of sitting there staring at the TV made him shudder.
The grocery store proved a goldmine, its liquor selection excellent. He chose a bottle of Glenlivet twelve-year single malt. The night suddenly held a lot more promise. The deli’s selection held equal promise, and he picked up a salad. No fried foods. Bad for the waist. Not as easy to entice the pretty ones into his web with a potbelly.
Carrying his bag full of goodies, he walked out the sliding doors. He dropped a twenty in the cup of the woman in the dirty jacket begging for food at the corner of the building. She scurried away quickly when she noticed the bill. Maybe she hurried to buy food. Maybe she didn’t.
Chapter Ten
Not exactly what Tuesday expected to hear. Not that she had any real idea how Addie would or could explain her remark about recognizing her. Still, that Addie admitted to having visions and one of them involved her, well, that turned this conversation into something way more interesting. Bumped up the fascination level by quite a bit. Not sure she could buy into the idea of visions, but it sure made for a unique explanation.
“You see things?” She set her almost-full mug of beer on the table between them. She wanted to know more.
Addie held her mug between her hands, staring down into the dark, malty beverage. “I don’t usually admit to that on the first date, so to speak, and I’m going out on a limb here.”
She kept the smile from her lips. She kind of liked the sound of “first date.” “Cat’s out of the bag now, and in the spirit of full disclosure, I promise you can trust me. Listen, in my profession, I know the difference between mentally ill and sane.”
“I’m not mentally ill.”
Tuesday nodded. “I know.”
“Figured we might as well get to the truth sooner rather than later, and for whatever reason, I do feel like I can confide in you.”
“Appreciate that.” She did too. Her circle of friends remained small for many good reasons, and trust factored in heavily. To embrace that level of faith in others came hard for her and was probably one of the things that made her a damn fine probation officer. She took most everything with the proverbial grain of salt. In her job, she got lied to a lot.
Addie set her mug on the table too. “It started for me when I was eight. I decided I could ride one of the four-wheelers that the groundskeepers used at Grandfather’s estate. Long story short, I couldn’t, and I ended up in the hospital with a concussion when I put the thing in a ditch. Out for about twelve hours. When I came to, things had changed. Scared me back then. It’s just a part of me now.”
Tuesday found the subject fascinating. A beautiful woman with a little something extra, and not like the bullet-hole-scars kind of extra. “Sorry about the crash-and-burn but kind of like your fearlessness.”
“My grandfather was less than impressed. Particularly because I didn’t have permission to be on that four-wheeler, and he had no tolerance for those who didn’t follow his rules. I snuck the keys and went for my joy ride. Fun while it lasted, which wasn’t long, by the way.” She rubbed the back of her head.
“Oh, girl, I get that.” The fact they’d both suffered significant trauma sort of had that walk-a-mile-in-my-shoes camaraderie. “Back to the seeing-my-face part. How do I figure into your visions?”
“Yeah, there’s that.”
“It started after the four-wheeler crash?” Could that really be, given she’d just been a kid? Didn’t seem possible to Tuesday.
Addie shook her head. “Seeing your face came later. I was in my late teens and looking forward to college. The visions with your face started after my brother’s disappearance twenty years ago. I’ve been searching for him ever since and wondering about the woman who kept appearing to me. Both my brother’s disappearance and how you figured into it were big reasons why I trained as an investigator. Answers are important to me. I’ve spent my entire adult life running after them.”
“I’m sorry.” Even though she and October were far from close, it would be weird if he just up and disappeared. Didn’t know that she’d have spent twenty years looking for him, their family dynamics being as they were, but it would be weird just the same. “Still don’t get the thing about seeing me.”
“I didn’t either until I opened my eyes out there. See, as I was walking, I could swear I heard Anthony’s voice on the wind, and then I reached out to touch a tree and, bam, dropped like a rock.”
“And you saw my face?”
“Not like I had in the past. No vision this time. The flesh-and-blood woman was in my field of vision when I came to.”
Tuesday wasn’t dumb, yet she had difficulty following this convoluted explanation. In fact, it seemed to get more confusing as Addie talked. “Seriously, I don’t get it. Where does my face come into all of this?”
Addie gave her a little smile. “Gee. Don’t know why you’re not getting it. Clear as mud. Okay, here’s the thing. Every once in a while, random things, or even places, send me toward a vision. At least half a dozen times, that vision came with the face of a beautiful woman with green eyes.”
Tuesday touched her own face. “My green eyes.”
Addie nodded. “Until you and your dog found me out there, I figured I was imagining you. I mean, I’d been seeing you for years, but never in the flesh, so I figured a recurring-dream kind of thing. Now I know different.”
Tuesday leaned down and rubbed Tripper’s head. He’d settled in at her feet shortly after they’d come in and gotten comfortable on the sofa. His relaxed posture told her a lot about Addie. She always trusted his take on people. She’d wished for years he could have been part of her probation career instead of just her volunteer search work. Maybe she wouldn’t have ended up in the hospital if he’d been with her.
“Kind of freaky.” She couldn’t imagine what Addie had been thinking when she came to and found Tuesday staring down at her.
“Seriously freaky. Not imaginary, real.”
Now she laughed. “Oh, I’m real all right. A little messed up but definitely real.”
Addie stared, her gaze intense, and shook her head slightly. “I don’t believe you’re messed up at all.”
Nice to know she could pull off normal. Especially when she considered that Addie made her living out of assessing people’s true nature. Then again, she’d be basing her assumption of normality on the façade that effectively covered up an ugly truth. Tuesday pulled her shirt aside, the angry red flesh on full display. “More like fucked up for life.”
* * *
Addie had expected some serious side-eye or, worse, a suggestion that she head back to the log cabin when she fessed up to having visions. Maybe even with the phone number of a local licensed professional. She didn’t expect Tuesday to share something as personal as a shoulder full of healing gunshot wounds. This could be awkward, or she could take it for the trust offered. She went with trust. “Well, that’s messed up. What happened?”
Tuesday let go of her shirt so that it dropped down to cover the wounds, still angry-red and healing. “Home visit with a previously non-violent offender that went off the rails. A really bad combination of drugs, illegal firearms, and bad timing. Funny thing about it, this offender had never done anything violent before. Classic case of wrong place, wrong time.”
“You went alone?” Not the thing to do these days. In her agency, if they even had a hint of violence from someone they would be investigating, they worked the case in pairs. She didn’t have a death wish, and neither did anyone else on her staff. She’d had the same sense from Tuesday, and it surprised her that she’d been put in a position to end up hurt in this way.
“Oh, God, no. Even for an offender with a history that doesn’t include violence, we worked in pairs. The way it all went down, if I’d have been alone that day, I’d be dead instead of disabled.”
Addie narrowed her eyes as she studied Tuesday. Injured, absolutely. Disabled? Nope. “Disabled? I’m having trouble buying into that characterization. You look pretty good to me.” Wait. Did that sound the way she meant it to? Or more a Freudian slip?
Tuesday shrugged. “Maybe not disabled in the true sense of the word. Life-changing just the same. With this permanent nerve damage in my arm, my career is over. I’ll never pass a firearms test again, let alone have enough physical strength in my arm to subdue someone if I need to.”
“They retired you?” That shocked her. In this day and age, accommodations could be made, particularly for someone with skills and massive institutional knowledge. They might have only just met, but she could envision Tuesday as a teacher for up-and-coming probation officers. She put off the vibe of someone with the potential to be a great mentor.
Tuesday shook her head. “No, they didn’t retire me. I did that all by myself. I’ve been an officer in the field my whole career, and I didn’t want to spend the remainder of it in an office waiting for the magic retirement date when they kick us officers to the curb. Not the way I wanted to go out.”
“I get that.” She did. Part of what made her job fulfilling came with the freedom of being out and about in the community. To be involved with the hum of life in the wild, whether the wild came in an urban setting or, like today, in beautiful nature. When she had to spend hours doing reports or making calls, it almost killed her.
“So, what do you think all of this is about? You. Me. Tripper finding you in the woods?”
She’d been thinking about that question since they parted earlier. She had an answer. “We’re supposed to help each other. The trail for my brother went cold in Hunters, and I don’t find it a coincidence that I came to in the forest here looking up at the face I’ve been seeing in my visions for years. The universe speaks, and I, for one, am inclined to listen.”
Tuesday nodded, her expression reflective. “Could be the universe brought us together for a reason.”
She liked where this seemed to be going. “I’m pretty convinced. I mean, how often in your work did you buy into an argument of coincidence?”
Now she smiled broadly. “Pretty much never.”
“And there it is. A higher power is at work here.”
A scream broke the tension. “Tuesday! You little brat. Where are you? I’m hurting.”
Tuesday closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She rubbed her hands over her face before looking at Addie, all traces of the beautiful smile gone. “I’m sorry. It’s my mother.” Pain radiated from her eyes.
“No apologies necessary.” Someday she might share why that statement came from her heart.
Embarrassment flashed across Tuesday’s pretty face. “She can be…”
She held up a hand. “Again, no apologies necessary.” Sharing rolled into play sooner than expected. “I have my own mother issues, so I get it.” Definitely sooner. “Look, I’m going to head back and get some sleep. I’m usually on Central time and out of my time zone by a couple of hours here. We can talk tomorrow. Okay?” She didn’t want to make this uncomfortable for Tuesday, and the moment her mother started yelling, the energy in the room changed—not in a good way. She didn’t want to add to the stress that rolled off Tuesday in waves.
She nodded, and the relief in her expression told a story. “I’d like that. I want to know more about your brother. Maybe I can help in some small way.”
“I’ll take you up on that.” The sound of her mother’s whines followed her out the door. Poor Tuesday.
* * *
Daylight peeked through the space between the drapes where he hadn’t been able to close them completely. October hated that. Darkness suited him, and if he could keep it perfectly dark, all the better. Should have brought a sleep mask with him. Would be a good idea to pick one up, given he didn’t believe he’d be back to grab one of the half dozen or so in his bedside drawer at home. He glanced at the nearby clock and groaned. It had been hard to fall asleep despite the nice bed. The restlessness, more than the lack of darkness, refused to fade no matter what he tried.
He’d made a dent in the scotch, and even that hadn’t helped. Sometimes it became impossible to turn off his brain—the plague of being someone who could see all possibilities in the universe. Once in a while, it would be nice to sleep for a few more hours. Rarely, if ever, happened that way. Once he woke up, end of story. He’d be awake the rest of the day, no matter how long he stayed in bed with his eyes squeezed shut.
With the silent mode activated on his phones, several text messages had arrived without notice. One from his wife. Boring. One from a special friend. Marginally more interesting. He sent a response to both, worded in such a way it would keep them each happy for a while longer. Not particularly interested in talking to either right now. Actually, as he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to talk to them again. Over the last few hours things had changed for him. A world shifting. A new direction becoming clear, with a past becoming more and more distant.
He’d finish this current journey and give himself some time for self-exploration, see where it would ultimately take him. It could be the end of the era and time for a new and more interesting world to open up.
As he stood beneath the spray of the warm shower, it all fell into place. He’d initially thought of this trip as mere duty, though in reality, that wasn’t what he felt for anyone, including his mother. He’d characterize it as more for appearance’s sake than anything else. Keeping up the front of the good son. Now, as he looked at it from all angles, he began to consider it as a more transformative journey. The start of the new man he’d become. Exciting in many ways. He hadn’t realized until now how boring his world had grown, despite the many disparate aspects he’d managed to create and cultivate. Complicated in some respects. Nothing he hadn’t been able to overcome.
The thing about it: he found himself craving more. Actually, as he thought about it, the coming events made sense in the big picture. Things headed in a direction that, combined with his own success, would put him in a position to be whoever he wanted, to go anywhere he wanted. To finally embrace freedom from everything that held him back from reaching his full potential. Each and every step he’d taken up to now had all been leading to this moment.
Dressed, he packed the few items he’d pulled out last night back into his bag and then made himself a cup of coffee. Once it was brewed, he took a sip, grimaced, and set it back down. Just no. A local restaurant up the road from the hotel would be fine for a quick breakfast before getting on the road, and hopefully, they made better coffee. Plenty of time to finish the trip without sacrificing a decent, or at least passable, meal. Besides, he wasn’t in a particular hurry. Like yesterday, he might even make a pit stop or two along the way. Just for shits and giggles, as his oafish father used to say.
Out in the hallway, he took a step and leaned back in through the doorway to glance around the room. Had to make sure he’d grabbed all his things. Empty of any trace of him except for the charcoal drawing that still lay in the middle of the table where he’d left it last night. He stepped back in and picked it up. For a full minute he stared into the face. Then he tore it into little pieces and dropped them into the trash.
Once more in the hallway, he pulled the door shut and began to walk toward the big sliding doors leading out to the parking garage. The thing about the sketch he destroyed—he didn’t need it to remember the handsome face, the smell of his skin, or the taste of his lips. No one ever forgot something that special.
Chapter Eleven
Tripper jumped up onto the bed, turned over onto his back, and stretched his legs straight up. Tuesday laughed as she slid in next to him. After letting him in after an early morning backyard break, she pulled the comforter up to her neck, or what she could get of it anyway. He took up at least two-thirds of the bed and hogged the comforter too. Hard to move eighty pounds of dead weight. “You think you could leave me a little space?” His tail thumped. He didn’t move. Not a new game and one of his favorites.
