A Thousand Yesteryears (12 page)

“I know you didn’t.” Eve smiled. It felt good to see her friend again. Even with so many years between them, the bond she’d once shared with Sarah remained strong. “What are you doing here?”

As she asked the question, Katie walked down the steps from the upper level. Eve recalled her saying something about checking on the progress of maintenance work in the ballroom. There was still a lot of prep to do for the birthday party the hotel had on the books for the end of the month. Spying Sarah and Eve together, Katie nodded hello. “Hi, Sarah.”

“Katie.” Sarah was ready to dismiss her, her attention absorbed by Eve when her face abruptly drained of color. “Oh!” Shock bled through the exclamation. “You haven’t heard, have you?” Her attention was solely on Katie now.

“Heard what?” Katie walked closer, joining them in the center of the lobby.

“About Amos Carter. Wasn’t he living with your mom?”

Katie exchanged a glance with Eve, no doubt remembering the conversation they’d had earlier with Doreen Sue. “What about him?”

“I’m so sorry. I was at the courthouse when Ryan came in. He said he and Caden found a body out in the TNT, badly beaten. He was pretty sure it was Amos. News is already spreading through town.”

“Are they certain it was Amos?” Katie covered her mouth with her hand, shaking her head. “My God, I couldn’t stand the man, but I wouldn’t wish him dead.”

“Ryan sounded certain. I think they found ID on him.”

“My Mom’s going to fall apart when she hears this.”

“She probably already has if she’s at the salon,” Eve inserted. “You better go check on her.”

“I can’t leave.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got things covered. Your mom is going to need you. You saw how she was this morning.”

“You’re right.” Katie shot her an appreciative glance. “Thanks, Eve. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

After she left, Eve sat with Sarah on one of the couches in the lobby. Sunlight streamed through the windows, brightening the area, but she felt chilled, thinking of Katie and her mom. Amos must have treated Doreen Sue horribly. Sadly, that often didn’t matter to a woman dependent on a man. “Doreen Sue was in here this morning, worried because Amos hadn’t gone home last night,” Eve explained to Sarah. “She was afraid something might have happened to him, but Katie thought he was sleeping off a binge somewhere. Her mom’s going to be devastated.”

Sarah shrugged apologetically. “He really wasn’t the kind of guy you wanted hanging around, anyway. I’ve seen Doreen Sue cover a black eye with make-up plenty of times. Interesting that someone used their fists to put an end to his miserable life.”

Eve was shocked by her bitterness. “You sound angry.”

“He tried to grab me once in your café. I stopped by for a sandwich—it’s a close walk from the courthouse—and he must have already downed a couple of six packs. I can’t say I have fond memories of him.”

“Katie doesn’t like him either.”
Didn’t
, she amended.

“If you’re lining up people with a grudge against him, that would be half the women in town. But I don’t think any of them could have beaten him to death.”

Eve shuddered. “I think I need a lighter topic. Would you like to have lunch with me and spend some time catching up?”

Her friend smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”

* * * *

The man paced. He knew the little shit he’d beaten to death had called him Reaper behind his back. The idiot had let it slip once when they were downing beer. Fitting, considering he’d put an end to Amos’s pathetic life. Besides, he liked the name. It made him feel powerful, a sensation he needed now with everything teetering on a precipice, ready to tumble.

Why did Rosie have to go and grow a damn conscience on her deathbed? All those years she’d kept his secret without his knowledge. That was the real mind blower—to learn she’d known about his crime and had never said a word. Not even to him. She could have blackmailed him, made sure he rotted in a jail cell, or set him up to die in the electric chair. Instead, she’d held her silence, sending him a letter just before she died. Her secret, her confession—along with a photo that captured his crime in ugly black and white.

Do the right thing
, she’d pleaded in the letter.

As if.

He’d been elated when she died, thinking the threat removed. With her out of the equation, he should have been in the clear. Except the negative to that incriminating photo was still out there.

Somewhere.

Too many people came and went from the hotel—employees, café patrons, guests—Rosie would never have kept it there. It had to be in the house. He was sure of it, even though Amos, incompetent jerk, had come up empty.

The problem was the girl, Eve. The longer she stayed, the greater the risk she’d stumble over it tucked in a drawer or hidden in a cupboard somewhere. And then what? He’d never be able to weasel free of the crime with photographic evidence staring him in the face. No, he had to send her packing. Whether that happened gently, or not so gently, would be up to her.

He was done using underlings for dirty work. As it stood, he had to figure out who Amos had talked to. He was sure the son-of-a-bitch would have spilled his guts and fessed up rather than taken a beating, but Amos had insisted he hadn’t told a soul.

Not possible.

Someone had found out. Someone was making phone calls to him. Weird shit with high-pitched noises, long silences, and strange shrieks. It had to be related. If Amos hadn’t blabbed to someone about the negative, then Rosie had lied in her letter. She must have told someone the truth before she died.

So why wasn’t he in jail?

He ground his teeth. He’d go crazy thinking about it. On the plus side, without the negative, there was no proof he’d committed a crime. All he had to do was find the damn thing and destroy it.

Which brought him back to Eve Parrish and how to get rid of her.

* * * *

It was almost six o’clock by the time Eve made it back to Aunt Rosie’s house. Sarah had taken an extended lunch break, and they’d spent a good two hours catching up. Katie had returned sometime near three, saying one of the stylists at Doreen Sue’s salon had taken her mom home and planned to stay with her until Katie got off work.

Eve found Caden in the dark room, measuring a sheet of drywall placed across two sawhorses. Dressed in jeans, a gray T-shirt, and work boots, he used a level to mark off a straight line as he bent over the sheet. Plaster dust peppered his black hair, and a tool belt hung from his hips. Three stark red gashes, the middle slightly longer than the others, were wrapped around his forearm. Scars of some sort, but they looked too vivid to be old.

“Hi,” she greeted. From the looks of things he’d been busy tearing the room down to the studs. “How’s it going?”

Caden glanced up. “On schedule.” He drew a quick line along the level, then slipped the pencil behind his ear. “Don’t let the look of things fool you.”

Things looked rather good, especially him. “You’re the contractor. I trust you completely.” Folding her arms, she leaned against the doorway. “By the way, I heard you were with Ryan earlier today.”

“You mean you heard about Amos Carter?”

“I was with Katie Lynch when I found out. Her mother was at the hotel, worried because he hadn’t come home last night. Sarah Sherman showed up later and told us the news. It hasn’t hit the paper, but I think it’s all over town.”

“Figures.” Caden scowled. “I went to see Ryan early this morning to tell him about the note you got. He was headed out on a call, and I rode with him. I wasn’t a fan of Amos, but someone definitely had it in for the guy. When I left Ryan, he was headed out to see Doreen Sue.”

“Breaking the news couldn’t have been easy.” She paused, remembering some gossip Sarah had shared. “I hear some people think the Mothman is back.”

Caden set his level aside. “The Mothman never hurt anyone.”

“Oh?” Eve made no attempt to mask her surprise as she stepped away from the door. “What about the Silver Bridge? Some people think it caused the collapse.”

Caden removed his tool belt and dumped it in the corner. “That’s hogwash. If anything, the monster tried to help.”

Interesting. “You sound like you know that for a fact.”

He shook his head. “I’m just saying I don’t think it caused anything. The bridge was old and couldn’t support the weight of all that backed-up traffic. One of the eye-bars failed. Everyone knows that.”

“So you
do
believe in the Mothman?” Why was that suddenly important to her?

“That’s not what I said. A lot of people will do anything to fuel superstition in this town. I saw Amos Carter—or what was left of him. Someone beat him with their fists, plain and simple.”

She flinched, unwillingly conjuring the sight in her head. As a child, she’d always thought Point Pleasant a safe haven. Murders didn’t happen in the small river town. Domestic disputes, minor assaults here and there, even an occasional break-in, but not murder.

She decided to change the subject. “What did Ryan say about the note?”

“The same as before…not to worry. He thinks it was probably a kid playing a prank.” He sounded as though he didn’t buy it. She wasn’t sure she did either, but in another week or so she’d be gone, and none of it would matter.

“I think I’ll knock off for the night and start early tomorrow.” Caden interrupted her thoughts. “I told Ryan I’d check on our mom since he’s going to be stuck on a double shift. I just need to clean up a few things.”

She nodded, finding it curious he’d chosen not to answer her question about the Mothman. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

When he wandered into the kitchen ten minutes later, he seemed in a better mood. “I’m sorry if I was short earlier. Sometimes the mentality of the town gets to me…the past.”

Eve turned from the cupboard where she’d been scrounging up the makings of a meal. “You mean because of the bridge? Maggie?”

“Something like that.” He cleared his throat, ending the subject. “So how have you found Point Pleasant since you’ve been back?”

She smiled. “Different, but the same.”

“Have you been to the riverfront yet?”

“I haven’t had the chance.” She and Maggie used to love hanging out there as children, watching the large riverboats chug up and down the waterways pushing barges of coal. In the summer, there were fishing and boat rides, followed by school events and festivals in the fall.

Caden shifted. “There’s a concert tomorrow night. A few friends of mine on guitar. I thought you might like to hear them.”

It sounded like he was asking her out. “I’d love to.” She offered a smile and couldn’t help adding. “Do you still play? I remember you sometimes performed at the fairgrounds.”

He shook his head, looking awkward. “Not much these days. I’m surprised you remember.”

“I remember a lot of things, Caden. I had a terrible crush on you when I was a kid.” Inwardly she cringed, shocked she’d blurted the truth. It was becoming far too easy to talk to him.

“Seriously?” He grinned. “You were what—six years younger?”

“That hardly made a difference.” Stumbling to recover, she grasped at the first thing she could think to say. “All the girls liked you. Maggie used to say you could charm her into doing almost anything.”

A shadow crossed his face at the mention of Maggie. “I should go. My mother’s alone.”

Something she’d said had obviously upset him. “Of course.” They’d talked about Maggie before, if only briefly, so it couldn’t be that. Bewildered by the change in his personality, she followed him to the front door.

He paused on the threshold, indecision in his gaze. “Look, I didn’t mean to cut you off. It’s just…”

“Maggie?”

“Yeah.” He exhaled a tired breath, the fatigue reflected in his eyes. “I have good memories, but other times, all I think about is that night on the bridge.”

“Maybe you should talk about it.”

“Not now.” He managed a weary smile. “I’ll be back in the morning to continue work. Maybe we can grab dinner before heading to the riverfront and the concert.”

She brightened with the idea. He
was
asking her on a date. “That’s sounds great.”

She followed him onto the porch, then waved goodbye as he headed across the yard to his mother’s home. As she watched his retreating form, she was struck again by the change in his mood.

Like so many people in Point Pleasant, Caden Flynn had secrets.

* * * *

Caden tried to shove the discussion with Eve behind him as he walked into the living room of his mother’s home. He
had
charmed Maggie that night, smiling and cajoling until she agreed to go out with him. Afterward, he’d been puffed up and proud for accomplishing something no one else in the family had been able to do. Maggie had looked up to him, even idolized him a little, and he’d used that adoration to manipulate her. The truth stung.

He found his mother seated on the couch, a pool of red yarn in her lap, a pair of wire-framed spectacles perched on the end of her nose. She divided her attention between
Wheel of Fortune
on the TV and the puddle of yarn that was slowly transforming into a scarf.

“Oh, Caden.” She glanced up with a smile, a short fluttery laugh escaping her lips. “I thought you were Ryan. Isn’t he coming home?”

“He got held up in town.”

“Is it because of the murder?”

“You know about it?” He eased into a seat across from her. Mrs. Aldridge would have stayed through most of the day, leaving just a short while ago. But even if Mrs. Aldridge had heard the news, it was doubtful she’d have shared the information, fearful it would upset his mother.

“A man was found in the TNT.” She spoke casually, her attention on the series of loops and stitches she skillfully produced. “I don’t know who he was, but I know he was murdered.”

Not possible. “How could you have heard?”

“You’re dusty dear. You look like you’ve been rolling in plaster dust.”

Distracted, Caden glanced down at his jeans, the denim dotted with a few clinging flecks of white powder. A neat freak, his mother would notice. Absently, he swatted the residue away. “Mom?”

“Maggie told me.”