Blackout (28 page)

I prefer plainer clothes, simple lines, chic but not flashy. Mama had flare, like a bohemian artist, except the best fabrics adorned her body. Her clothes were expensive. I try on a mid-length flared skirt, a myriad of burgundy, emerald, gold, and ebony.

A rough silk shirt the color of spun gold matches it, so I slip it on. My lacy bra peeks through the sheerness. Until Dare, I wasn’t even brave or confident enough to wear clothes so forbiddingly sensual.

I don’t remember her erotic prowess in her choice of clothing, but from them and the fragrance she wore, I can tell that we are completely different. Lately I’m drawn to this other side of her, of me. She loved to dress to be seen while I like to paste myself to the walls and blend in.

I fall onto my bed and text Dare. He shouldn’t have followed that man.

Two hours creep by and still no word. Where the hell is he? He could send a quick text. Should I call the police? I hug the pillow to my chest while my stomach swirls like a violent sea.

The phone wakes me out of a dead sleep. I taste dirt. Spitting into my hand, I see exactly that—dirt. It’s all over my pillow, in my hair, and over two-dozen wilted daisies are scattered on my bed and the floor.

I scream, falling out of bed. How is he getting past the alarm? I know I reset it when I came in last night, and I checked all the doors and windows.

Lulu cries out. “Teal, are you all right?” I hear her stumbling around in her bedroom while the home phone rings.

“Stay where you are, Lulu. I’m all right.”

I answer the phone, praying it’s Dare and gasping for air. A woman asks, “I’m sorry to bother you. Is Graham there, Teal? He didn’t come home last night.” It’s his mother.

Terror splinters into my skin, hurling its sharp daggers deep. I stare at the dirt and daisies. This is a threat for me and was it also meant for him? I hold back tears. My palms sweat and slick the phone so that it almost falls from my hand. “He dropped me off around nine.” Maybe earlier.

“I’m worried, Teal.” She gasps for breath in between sobs. “He doesn’t stay out all night without calling us first.”

A waiting period for a missing person doesn’t exist in North Carolina, even for an adult. “You should call the police…right away.”

“It’s not like him. I’m frightened. What if he’s been in an accident?” That’s the least worst scenario I can think of.

“I’m sure the police will find him.” The soil and flowers in my room tell me otherwise. Is Dare missing too?

I rush to the bathroom where I dry heave into the toilet, my stomach cramping, my mind coming alive with images. I close my eyes, and the flashes disappear after some time.

I call the police and report another break-in, theft, and Graham’s disappearance. I don’t know what to say to them about Dare. Why hasn’t he called me back? Is he mad over last night?

Lulu walks into my room, half-dressed. “Are you all right?”

Given my shaking, I don’t know if I can keep it together much longer. “Someone was in here last night.”

Her hand covers her mouth. “Oh no. What’s the dark stuff on your bed?”

I flop onto the end of the bed, nervous jitters coursing through my hands. “Dead flowers and dirt.”

“Maybe we should get a dog, a big one.”

That’s a good thought. “What if you get bitten?”

“What else can we do?”

“I’ll call the alarm company and make sure they’re out here today. I could buy a gun.” Dare owns one.

Her hand pats my shoulder, her expression taut with worry. “You didn’t wake up when whoever broke into the house. He’d just use the gun on you.”

She’s right. I let out a heavy sigh.

After Jimmy takes my statement and dusts for fingerprints, I wait on Dare. He hasn’t called, so I don’t even know if he’s coming by to take me to the courthouse. The sheriff’s department also didn’t find anything in Alligator River—no shock there.

I wait out by the beach with Kami for the alarm company to call me back. When I tell her everything that’s happened, fear shines in her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me? You could’ve been hurt.”

“I didn’t want to upset you.”

“All this has been happening right next door? Does Remy know?”

My muscles ball into hard knots. “Yes. He took a few of my calls.”

“He hasn’t said a word to Mom. Why don’t you and Lulu spend the night at our house? Mom’s a light sleeper, and it would throw the person off.”

“We may take you up on that.” I check my phone for the thousandth time—no call from Dare, no word about Graham.

At ten, I head inside to meet the alarm company. The man inspects the house and stops when he checks the glass doors in the back of the house. “That’s odd.”

He returns to the alarm’s central control unit. “The back doors and a window in one of the bedrooms are bypassed on the system. They should be set. Did you or your grandmother disable them?”

“No.” The only people who could’ve are the police and Dare. Lulu’s window is disabled.

“The alarm tripped a few days ago but was reset immediately. Did you change the setting by accident then?”

Fury digs into my expression. “How would someone get our password?” That’s the only way I can think of it happening, and I haven’t given that to Dare or the police.

His face blanches. “Well…some high tech equipment could catch the transmissions.”

I’m betting it’s not so high tech. Dare warned me though.

“So why am I paying all this money for an alarm that can be easily bypassed?”

“Do you want us to remove it?”

“What can I do to keep this one working?”

He gives me all kinds of preventative measures. None of which sound foolproof.

After he leaves, I immediately change the password and reengage the sensors on the back doors and the window.

I put on clothes not suitable for work, even though I have to be there by four, and park my ass near the front door to wait on Dare.

Eleven rolls around and Dare doesn’t show up. By eleven-thirty, worry coils in my stomach. I hear a short beep outside, so I run to the window. Dare’s Shelby is parked out front.

Wearing my mother’s skirt and blouse, I hurry outside to his car. He opens the door for me, his gaze stopping dead on the sheer top and my breasts.

I immediately cover them.

“If you don’t want guys to notice, don’t wear such revealing tops,” he says, anger clenching his strong jaw. “Or is that for Graham?”

“Where have you been?” I fume. “And why haven’t you returned my calls?”

The coldness in his gaze crests over me like an ocean wave. “Why were you out with Graham? I’m not enough for you. You fucked me hard on the beach, then you run off with him. What kind of girl are you?”

My finger stabs his chest. “You told me you couldn’t do this anymore. You dumped me.”

His finger wraps around mine, and I try my damnedest to remain composed. “I was speaking figuratively, not literally, and I was talking about what your dad wanted. Excuse me for giving a fuck about you. You obviously don’t care for me the way you were letting Graham get all up on you.”

“He was not.” We’re practically nose-to-nose, and I can feel the heat from his body. “And what about what I want, and it sounded literal to me, and then you didn’t show up early like you always do at Harley’s.”

“I was busy. You may think this, but I’m not at your beck and call.”

My ammunition is running low. He’s right. He didn’t say he was breaking up with me, like I immediately assumed. “Why didn’t you return my calls?”

He laughs sardonically. “My phone took a swim yesterday when I saved your ass, yet again.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling worse by the minute. I shouldn’t have gone out with Graham, not when I don’t understand what’s going on between us. It isn’t love. I don’t know if it’ll grow into that, but I need his memories.

“Get in the car, so we can get this over with.”

I slip into the car, and he closes my door. “Graham’s missing.”

“What?” My statement stops him from cranking the engine. “How do you know?”

“His mother called me this morning.”

“He’s probably fine. You did trash him? He’s probably blowing off steam, or did he dump you?”

I doubt he’d have a meltdown over a couple dates with me. “His mom said he would’ve called.”

He turns the key in the ignition, and the Shelby rumbles, like the tiger it is. “To tell her he’s spending the night with you? I don’t buy that. You’re making too much out of it.”

“He dropped me off as soon as you told him I was sleeping with you.”

“Good.”

“I think something happened to him.” I’d like to think Dare’s right, but Graham’s mother knows her son. I’m scared for him. “Where were you last night?”

“Jackson and I followed your stalker. We lost track of him though.”

“That’s comforting. The alarm company told me how he was getting around the alarm. He left me a present this morning.” I tell him about the daisies and dirt.

He thaws slightly, grasping my hand in between gearshifts.

The more I think about what’s going on the more terror owns me. “You didn’t catch him.”

“No. I searched all over last night.”

We first visit the courthouse. I check my phone, praying for a call from Graham’s mother. As we pull into the parking lot, Deputy Jimmy talks to Tate while leaning against the hood of Sheriff Tate’s SUV.

When Dare lets me out of the Shelby, they both stare at me.

“What are you doing here?” Jimmy asks.

“We have business here,” I say.

“Lordy, girl,” Tate says. “You look more and more like your mama every day. Have a nice day, you hear now?”

I hate that meaningless saying.

He drives away, leaving Jimmy standing there, who studies us closely.

Dare and I clamber down into the bowels of the courthouse to records. He approaches the woman attending the front desk.

“I’d like to review the court hearings for…” He shows her a list of two dates. “For Tucker versus the State.” His voice falters.

I can only imagine how hard this is on him, for both of us. I don’t know what happened at the hearings.

The lady gives us two stacks of documents. We wade through them until I find the name of the court recorder at my testimony. “Her office is close to here. Can you drive me there?”

“Sure.” His expression turns somber as he reads.

“We should make copies instead,” I say, shuffling through the first hearing.

“We will. There’s something I want to see first.”

“What’s that?”

“The evidence.” His fingers brush against my cheeks, and I lean into his touch. “I don’t know why they didn’t press assault charges against me. Why press molestation charges when your skull was busted open? I don’t see how the DA had any physical evidence that I molested you.”

I never thought of that. “You’re right.” My clothes, the blood, my injuries. “The doctors tested me and found no indication of rape.” So what did they have?

My head swims. I close my eyes to stop from seeing the crimson pools.

Dare’s hand rubs my shoulder. “You all right? I can do this myself.”

“I’m fine.” I skim until I reach the first set of evidence. “Here it is.”

Dare reads over my shoulder, his warm, minty breath tickling my ear. How do I explain how his closeness makes the world stop moving for me?

“You fill my nights,” he whispers. “You are always in my head, Teal.”

It’s nice to know I have commandeered his dreams. I lean my head against his chest, continuing to read. “It says they never found a weapon with blood on it, and they weren’t sure that I hadn’t fallen on one of the sidewalks leading into the park or on the road. They had evidence of my blood on you.”

“You were hit on top of your head. Hitting a sidewalk makes no sense. Let me see that,” he says, taking the document. “This isn’t the right kind of DNA test on the blood.”

“What do you mean?”

Dare inhales slowly. “This test didn’t amplify the DNA sample. It only takes it as far as familial findings. The blood could belong to a relative.”

I know what he’s thinking. It’s my mother’s blood, but dad said she left. She probably returned to Paris, like Daddy said.

“Do you have hair from a brush of your mother or anything like that?” he asks, kissing my cheek. “I know this is hard for you, but we need to find out.”

It’ll help us both. “I’ll look.” I don’t want her to be dead. I want to know her. I want to remember something, anything. Did she stick Band-Aids on my owies or cool my fevers with children’s aspirin?

He rubs my shoulder. “Let’s make copies of these and go. I need to get a tranny done today.”

A transmission I translate. “Sure. Are you coming by the restaurant?” Will you take me home and make sure I’m safe is what I’m really asking.

He gives me a tight smile. “Yeah. I have to eat.”

He hasn’t gotten past Graham. “It isn’t to see me?”

His smile lifts on one side. “Maybe. I’ve never let any girl completely consume me like you have. It scares the hell out of me.”

We stop by the front desk, order three copies, and wait on them to be made.

After they’re done, he drives us next to the recorder’s office. Once we’re inside, I walk up to the front desk. This is it—where I find out what I said to Kirkland.

“We’d like to have a copy transcribed of my testimony.” I provide her with the date and the names of the parties.

“Only Darius Tucker can request one without a court order,” the lady says.

He finally comes forward. “I’m him.” His breathing is uneven. He’s unsure about me, about what I told the judge.

“I’d like three copies. Please send one to Miles Grant.” I give her the address. “We’ll pick up the rest.”

“It’ll take a couple days.”

I hand her my credit card to pay for them before we leave.

Dare drives me by Miles’ office where I drop off a copy of the court records.

“I had the recorder’s office send you my transcript,” I say before telling him about the latest break-in and Graham’s disappearance.

“I’ll go through these, but I want Darius to come with you to your next session. We need to dig deeper.” His face tightens. “I don’t like the daisies, the dirt, the stalker’s obsession with your mother, and now this boy you were seeing has gone missing. It frightens me and should frighten you.” He brings home the reality of my situation.