The Secrets on Forest Bend Page 17

  The drive home was smooth, with minimal traffic, but Jillian didn’t notice. Her lips and thighs still tingled, and she wore a secret half smile. Her breasts were tender as they moved inside the fabric of her dress. Heather sat in the back seat with her arms crossed over her chest and didn’t say a word.

  When they reached the edge of the parking lot, Heather spoke up, her voice heavy with disdain, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll get out here. I have plenty to do to keep me busy.”

  As glad as Jillian was to be rid of Heather, she had to wonder, was Heather being sarcastic or threatening?

  Jillian was right. Saturday was a long, hard day without any help. Cara called at noon to let her know she’d be back at work on Monday.

  “Are you sure you’ll be up to it? You can take a few more days if you need.”

  “No, what I need is to get back to work as soon as possible. Otherwise, I’ll dwell on things, and that’s not healthy. Did I thank you for taking care of Megan? That’s the only way I got through it, knowing Megan was safe.”

  By 5:30, business was slowing down and Jillian started closing out the register. The door was locked and the lights turned off by 5:50. She ran up the stairs and changed quickly. Adam had said he wanted to take her somewhere nice, so she put on a sundress and strappy sandals. She threw some shorts and a tank into a paper sack and was pulling into his drive at 7:15.

  The front door opened and he stepped out before she had the motor turned off.

  He came up to the car window and leaned in. “I made reservations at an Italian place, but there’s Chinese and Mexican close by if you’d rather.”

  “Italian sounds good. If you won’t make fun of the way I slurp spaghetti.”

  He put his hand over his heart. “I am a gentleman to the core. I would never make fun of the way a lady eats. Besides, I probably won’t notice it over the noise I’ll be making.”

  As he leaned farther into the car to kiss her, he noticed the paper sack. “What’s this?”

  “Fresh clothes, clean underwear, hair gel, and a toothbrush.” She grinned and winked.

  Laughter spilled in the window. “Didn’t want to make the walk of shame tomorrow in the same clothes you came in, huh? I would have lent you a toothbrush.”

  Jillian raised her eyebrows. “So you keep an extra toothbrush on hand for overnight guests?”

  “I went to the dentist a couple of weeks ago and he gave me one I haven’t opened yet.”

  “Well, I do like a man with good oral hygiene.”

  He gave an exaggerated grin. “Look Ma, no cavities.”

  “I might just leave this one and the hair gel here, if that’s not too presumptuous.”

  “Presume away. Mi casa es su casa.”

  Jillian studied him for a moment. He looked very handsome, but then he always did. Something was different. He kept blinking. “Adam, take out those silly contact lenses and put your glasses back on. I appreciated that you got dressed up for me, but when I’m ready for you to take off your glasses, you’ll know it.”

  Relief flooded his face as he rubbed his eyes.

  They took his BMW. It was the first time she’d ridden with him, and she found it pleasant to let someone else do the driving for a change. I could get used to this. I’ve been taking care of myself since I was twelve years old. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let someone else do it occasionally.

  The restaurant was small, but obviously a popular neighborhood eating place. Mouth-watering aromas enveloped Jillian as they opened the door. The lights were dim, and candles glittered in Chianti bottles on every table.

  She was trying to decide what to order when Heather spoke up. “The man brought you to a gas station for dinner?”

  “This is a nice restaurant,” Jillian said.

  “I’m glad you like it.” Adam smiled at her. “It’s one of my favorites. I like the way people have converted these old gas stations and stores into restaurants and bars, preserving the old buildings, but giving them new life. That’s what I consider true recycling. There’re a couple of ice houses and taverns nearby we can try next time, but I like the atmosphere here.”

  “I like it, too. It’s quaint and different.”

  “If you want calamari, it’s one of their specialties.”

  “No way,” Heather said. “Just get the spaghetti and meat sauce. And sit up straight. Your boobs are hanging out of that cheap dress.” Heather wore a sequined cocktail dress appropriate for a fancy night club.

  “I hope this dress is all right.” Jillian tugged at the hem.

  Adam’s eyes lingered and he licked his lips. “You look beautiful,” he said, and she knew he meant it.

  “I think I’ll go for the spinach ravioli in creamy pesto sauce.” Jillian sat her menu aside.

  Heather groaned. “Yuck. Is that like the stuff Mother used to serve us out of a can? And made with spinach? Come on, you can do better than that.”

  Adam bent forward. “Do you want to split a Caesar salad? You can have one of your own if you want, but they’re awfully big here.”

  “I knew he was too cheap to spring for a good meal.”

  Jillian smiled at Adam. “That sounds perfect. I hate to spoil my dinner by eating too much salad.”

  Heather turned away and sulked through the rest of the meal, only making occasional derogatory comments about Adam’s table manners or bad jokes.

  Jillian ignored her and savored the salty salad and creamy ravioli sauce. She let the aroma of garlic bread drown out Heather’s perfume.

  When the bill came, Heather spoke up again. “I hope you brought your credit card. He’s about to pull the old ‘I lost my wallet’ trick.”

  Adam reached for his back pocket and his face turned blue. He looked like he was strangling on a piece of bad meat. “Excuse me a minute,” he said. Jillian could see him talking to the cashier and gesturing. After a long conversation, he left the restaurant and headed toward the car.

  “What did you do?” Jillian hissed at Heather.

  “Relax, it’s in the car.”

  When he returned, his face was flushed and he had a sheen of perspiration on his forehead. He stopped at the cashier’s and paid the bill before returning to the table to get Jillian. The drive back to his house was quiet, and he never mentioned the incident with his billfold.

  He parked in the drive, next to Jillian’s car, and they went in through the front door. She sat her purse on the sofa and began to look around. It was the first chance she’d had to really check out his place. When she’d been there the day before, they hadn’t lingered in the living room. It was definitely masculine, but still managed to be stylish and well planned. The original hardwood floors had been brought back to a gleaming finish and the wood tones were carried through in the built-ins.

  Rover waddled in, glad to see her, but stopped suddenly when he saw Heather. His back went up and he hissed.

  “Oh crap, a stupid cat.” Heather swatted at him with her foot, and he hissed again before scurrying back to the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into that cat. He can’t have forgotten you since yesterday.” He went into the kitchen and Jillian followed. She watched as he gave Rover his shot, then opened a can of gourmet cat food. Rover was still looking at Heather and hissing.

  “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen. He gave the cat a shot? I hope it doesn’t have anything contagious.”

  “How long has Rover had diabetes?” Jillian rested against the center island.

  “The cat is named Rover? Now I’ve heard everything. Jillie, please, you can do better than this.”

  “It’s been about four months since he was diagnosed. The vet says if I can keep it regulated, he should have a few more good years.”

  “You realize the only things he has in the refrigerator are condiments and beer. The freezer isn’t much better. Frozen TV dinners. He seems to divide them equally between Mexican and Hungry Man, although there is one Healthy Choice in the back, covered w
ith ice. I think he drinks too much. He has thirteen empty beer bottles in the trash.” Heather wandered into another part of the house, investigating drawers and cabinets.

  Adam took her hand and started back to the bedroom. Jillian tried to snag her purse, but it was on the far side of the sofa. Once in the room, he tossed his weapon in the gun safe and locked it before Jillian could stop him. She twisted in his arms and began to undress him slowly. Finally she stopped. “You’re not wearing your back-up piece?”

  “We’re on a date, Jillian, not a raid. It’s locked in the gun safe. I wish I didn’t have to wear the other one when I’m out with you, but we’re considered on-duty at all times. I have to carry it. I fudged a little when I went to your place the other day. I should have carried it, but I wanted to seem like a civilian.”

  She began to pace. “Maybe you should get one out. Someone could try to break in and you wouldn’t be able to get to it in time.”

  “No one’s going to try to break in, sweetheart.”

  “That’s what everyone says, until someone tries to break in.” Her breath came in short, rapid gasps and her heart hammered until she worried he could see it through the thin material of her dress.

  “The house is alarmed, and it’s obvious by my car that a police officer lives here. This is a safe neighborhood. I promise you, honey, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “What about the cat door? It’s big enough for a teenager or a small man to squeeze through.” Her palms were sweating, and she tried to wipe them on her thighs.

  “No, it’s not. I checked that out before I put it in.”

  “Well, at least let me get my purse. I’ve got a .38 in there.”

  “Jillian, stop this. You are perfectly safe in my house. You weren’t worried last night.” He held onto her hand and wouldn’t let her go to the living room after her purse, never seeming to realizing that she had surrounded the bed with guns the night before. Finally he wrapped his arms around her, and she began to calm down.

  Once they were in bed and he was kissing her, Jillian tried to respond, but knew too well what was about to happen.

  Heather strolled in from the bathroom. “At least he seems to be healthy. He doesn’t have any medications except an ancient bottle of antibiotic that has two pills left in it. That and sports creams. He must have every brand known to man. I’ll bet he smells like a winner. Oh yeah, there’s one tube of hemorrhoid cream with the cap left off——half empty and dried out.”

  She pointed to a picture on the dresser. “Well, isn’t that special?” Sarcasm dripped from her voice like venom. “He has pictures of his family on his dresser. I never would have taken him for a Mama’s boy.” She leaned closer and studied one of the photos. “Is that his brother? Oh my God. That mess of hair must be hereditary. Watch out or you’ll end up with a litter of Don King wannabes.”

  Heather stood next to the bed. “I told you he was a loser. He’s not even that good a lover. Sure, his arms and shoulders are big and muscular, but his ass is skinny and hairy. What in the hell is he doing to your tattoo? It looks like he’s trying to lick it off. That’s disgusting.”

  He looked up and grinned. “I can’t believe how delicious you taste, inside and out.”

  Heather rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, how repulsive.”

  Jillian ignored her and pulled him up for a kiss. “You taste pretty good yourself.”

  “Uh oh, here’s something you’re just going to love. In his bottom drawer, underneath his sweaters, is a picture of him in a suit. He’s a lot younger, his hair is longer. And he’s with a woman wearing a wedding dress. They’re both grinning like fools. I’ll bet he didn’t tell you about that.”

  Jillian ignored her, and Heather got down on her knees for a better view. She had changed into a reveling negligee. “Come on, Jillie, please, just this one time. Let me in. It looks like fun. I want to feel what it’s like. I’ll step out again as soon as it’s over. I promise.”

  Adam knew Jillian was trembling, but he didn’t realize immediately she was crying. “What’s the matter, honey? Did I do something wrong?”

  Jillian shook her head, but didn’t answer.

  “Are you frightened? If you really don’t feel safe, I can get the guns out. I’ll cover the room with guns if that’s what you need to feel safe.”

  “It’s too late. We should have done it earlier. She’s already here.”

  He sat up and looked around. “Who’s here? There’s no one here except us. Even Rover stayed in the kitchen.”

  “Heather. She’s always here, wherever I go.”

  “Heather, your sister? But she’s dead.” Alarm bells sounded in the back of his mind, but he refused to listen to them.

  Jillian shook her head. “No, she’s not.”

  Adam desperately tried to get his mind to work like a woman’s. “I understand you think about her, honey. She was your sister and you loved her. Do you feel bad because things are going well for us and you think she was cheated out of a life when she died so young?”

  Jillian wiped her eyes. “Not exactly.”

  “What are you doing?” Heather yelled. A faint flush was almost visible on her pale skin. “Haven’t you learned anything? You know what happens when you tell people. They’ll lock you up again, and this time they’ll throw away the key.” She paced around the tiny room.

  “Tell him he was right. You were thinking of me and how I missed out on things. Hurry, before he gets that look in his eyes like you’re crazy.”

  Adam took a deep breath. “We’ve already established that I’m a little dense. You’re going to have to explain this to me slowly, using small words.”

  Jillian tried to swallow, but it caught in her throat. She had to force the words out. “My sister Heather was killed when she was thirteen years old, but she didn’t die, not exactly.”

  She closed her eyes. It was out. She’d said it. She ought to feel better, but she didn’t.

  He looked bewildered. “Jillie, honey, I don’t understand what ‘not exactly’ means.”

  “Don’t ever call me that,” Jillian yelled, throwing a pillow across the room. “That’s what she calls me.”

  The wire holding a large mirror over the dresser snapped and the mirror fell with a loud crash. Broken glass exploded over the room. Jillian gasped, and he threw his arm around her shoulders, pulling her face into his chest. Glass peppered his back, but he held her close until the room fell silent. Jillian’s face was ashen.

  Heather whirled to face Jillian. “I told you not to tell him. Now look what you’ve done. You’ve made me angry. I can’t be responsible for what happens when I get angry.” Heather stalked out of the room.

  “Jillian, don’t worry about the glass. I’ll clean it up later. This is more important. I’m sorry about the name, I didn’t know you were touchy about it. I understand talking to deceased loved ones. I’ve seen Mamacita roll her eyes at Ruben and look up to the ceiling and say ‘Hubert, do you see what your son has done?’ If you were close to someone, it must feel as if they’re still with you after they’ve gone.”

  God, she hated talking about this. She’d rather pull her own teeth. “I wasn’t close to Heather when she was alive. She was older than me and to be honest, quite self-centered even then. I think Mama spoiled her with all the praise and attention she heaped on her at those silly pageants.”

  “I can still hear you,” Heather called from the other room.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe that’s worse. Add a dose of guilt to the mix.”

  “Well, you might be right about that part. I did suffer from a lot of guilt about killing her, and I’m sure that made me enable her at first. But that’s not what this is about. Heather’s spirit never crossed over, or whatever is supposed to happen. She’s still here, almost in the flesh, but not exactly. I see her as plain as you. I talk to her, and she talks to me.”

  Once the words started, they poured out. “Who do you think made that mirror fall?”

&nbs
p; “A cheap wire, poorly installed, made that mirror fall. And I still say you talk to her and see her because you think about her. Lots of people do that.”

  Jillian could see him struggling to use logic to convince himself and her that she wasn’t crazy.

  “I don’t think about her, except when she makes me. In fact, I do everything I can to avoid her. Do you know why I live over a gun store? Because she’s deathly afraid of guns and won’t come anywhere near them. She won’t even come onto the parking lot of the store.”

  Jillian tried to control her voice. If she got too emotional, there was even less chance he’d believe her. “She doesn’t like loud noise or crowds, and that’s why I played basketball in high school. I used to ride a Harley, but after Daddy’s accident, I switched to a car for safety’s sake. At first just carrying a weapon in my purse kept her out of my car, but eventually she got used to it and now she’s not afraid to ride with me, but stays in the backseat. If I put my purse in the back, she rides in the front, and that’s worse.”

  “You always keep a weapon on you?” His face was beginning to show signs of worry.

  “That’s why they call it a carry permit——so you can carry it with you. There’s not much point anymore, now that she’s used to it.”

  “Jillian, honey, you’ve become obsessed with your sister’s death. You need to talk to someone about it.”

  She reached over the side of the bed and picked up her dress, pulling it over her head. Might as well get this over with. He was bound to find out eventually. “The only good that does is that she disappears when they lock me up. She doesn’t like it there. I pretend they’ve cured me and they let me out. It happened once when I was little and again when I was a teenager.”

  The worry lines on his face deepened. Just what every man likes to find out, that his girlfriend has been locked up in the loony bin.

  “Look, I’m going to prove to you I’m not crazy. I know things I couldn’t otherwise. But first, I need you to put your clothes on. I can’t have this conversation while Heather is making derogatory comments about your skinny, hairy ass.”