My Mistake (Stories of Serendipity #7) (17 page)

Casey needed to think about what she actually wanted from Brent, and then work toward that point with him. She wasn’t sure though, if she wanted a life with an addict. A week ago, she’d been perfectly happy spending time with him. The biggest argument they’d had was about her not staying at his house, and it wasn’t really an argument, just friendly, half-hearted jabs back and forth. She’d known he was keeping something from her, but she had no idea it was this bad.

But was it really so bad? He was rehabilitating himself, which right there, took him out of the same league as her father, who’d never cared to get clean. Brent had been on the treatment for years, he’d said. That spoke of a long-term commitment to making himself healthy. And if what he said to her was the truth, and not just the rambling justifications of the addiction talking, he was getting clean, in part for her.

She opened her eyes, ran her hands through her hair, and got off her bed. Walking down the hall to the kitchen for a beer, her eyes fell on a blank spot on the wall where a picture used to be.

“Mom?”

“Yeah?” Her mother’s voice rose from her bedroom.

“What did you do with the wedding photo that was on the wall here?” Her hand brushed the empty place on the wall.

“Nothing Honey. I thought you took it down.” Her mom’s face peeked from around her door.

Blood drained from Casey’s face. This picture had been gone for weeks, and she’d just assumed her mother had gotten tired of watching her stand in front of it, looking for answers. “I didn’t take it,” she whispered.

Her mother was on the phone in less than a minute, and the police were there in less than an hour, taking another statement, asking questions.

“Why haven’t y’all noticed it before now? You said it’s been gone for weeks?”

Casey nodded. “It’s been gone since the week before the chili cheese dog incident.”

“How can you be sure?” It was Officer Sanchez, from before.

“Because I remember, I was helping Mom pack when I noticed it. I had seen it the day before, and then it wasn’t there. I just thought Mom had taken it down.”

“Why would she do that?”

Her mother interjected. “Because it was a wedding photo, and since her divorce, Casey stared at it, getting maudlin, at least once a day. I had thought about taking it down, but decided against it, because I figured it was a mistake she needed to quit beating herself up over. And taking down the picture wouldn’t help any.”

The officer’s eyebrows rose. “So you have an ex-husband somewhere?”

Casey nodded. “Yeah, in Houston.”

“Could he be the one breaking in?”

Casey scoffed. “Not likely. I imagine he’s up to his ears in dirty diapers and formula bottles right now.”

Sanchez scribbled some notes into his notebook. “What’s his name?”

“Kevin Conway, but I really doubt he would do this. It’s not his style.” Kevin was a jerk, and didn’t care about others’ feelings except his own, but he wasn’t malicious. And whoever was breaking in and taking her stuff definitely had a malevolent vibe to them. Besides, it would take a level of intelligence she had never really attributed to Kevin.

“It’s just for the files. I’ll do a little checking, just to be sure, but you’re probably right. Anything else missing?”

“No but, the other day, my bed had been messed up.” Casey just remembered that. The day of Brent’s accident she’d come home to a messed up bed. What was wrong that she hadn’t remembered?

“Really? You didn’t tell me that.” Her mother looked hurt.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t think of it, until just now. My mind’s been somewhere else.” She looked at the police officer. “It was Tuesday.”

The officer looked at her squarely. “And now it’s Saturday. You didn’t think this would warrant our attention? That someone came into your house and did something in your bed? When you’ve already called us for them making supper?”

Casey’s face heated with embarrassment. “I’m really sorry. I’ve been having trouble with my…boyfriend. I was distracted.” She rubbed her face to get the heat out, but it didn’t work. “I’m surprised I even noticed, honestly.”

“Have you washed the sheets?”

“I washed them yesterday. I didn’t know. Casey didn’t tell me.” Her mother offered, her voice indignant.

Feeling ganged up on, Casey said, “You’re welcome to look around my room, but I have no idea if anything else was messed with.” She felt like she was watching the conversation, not really taking part in it. Everything was unreal, hazy, like a fog had settled over her when Brent told her about his past. She hadn’t been able to focus on simple things, like her mind-numbingly boring work, much less something multi-faceted, like her intruder and his motivations.

“It seems to me, with the wedding photo and the sheets that this is more personal than either of you realize. This person is targeting you, Ms. Conway.” The words sent a chill down her spine and she shivered, unable to respond. Silently, she nodded.

“I’ll check the house again. Did that man change your locks?” He looked back at his notes. “Mr. Baum?”

Casey nodded again.

He left to go check the bedrooms and an antsy feeling overtook Casey. She felt itchy all over. “I need to get out of here. Can I do some grocery shopping or something for you?” She looked at her mom desperately.

“I need a deposit made at the bank, if you want to do that for me. I’d appreciate it.” She reached for her purse and started filling out the deposit form. Everyone else on the planet had things direct deposited, but Casey’s mom insisted on face-to-face contact and prided herself that the bank tellers knew her name.

Officer Sanchez hollered from her bedroom. “Ms. Conway!” She scurried back there to see what was wrong. He was pointing to her window. It wasn’t locked.

“I’m sorry, I air the room out in the evening, while it’s cooling down. I must have forgotten to lock it back.” She felt stupid. She’d put her mother and herself in danger, allowing some freak access to their house.

“He’s probably slipping in and out this way. The window is large enough to fit a grown man, a big one.” He locked the window pointedly. “I’ll be honest with you, Ms. Conway. These types of things escalate. Soon, your intimate clothing will come up missing, then the next thing you know he’ll start doing darker, more threatening things with your room. You’re his target, and you’re the one in danger here, not your mother. You need to keep yourself safe. If you can think of anybody who would want to hurt you, you need to tell me now before this gets out of hand.”

Casey remembered missing her shoes and underwear, but she was too embarrassed to tell the officer that she’d just now thought of something else, so she just nodded dumbly. She couldn’t think of any reason for him to have that knowledge or how it would help anyway. She already felt stupid enough with the window thing.

“I don’t know anybody who would want to hurt me.” The only person she’d ever known who had made her feel like she was in danger was her father, and he was long gone or dead. “I’m at a loss.”

Suddenly, her room looked like a garish nightmare come to life. It was a life-sized doll house bedroom, with its white French provincial furniture, the pink eyelet lace bedspread and pillow shams, the shelves around the top of the walls filled with dolls and teddy bears. The surreal feeling she’d had persisted into the bedroom, and she half-expected a giant eyeball to come blinking in the window and the Twilight Zone theme song to start playing.

Officer Sanchez finally left with a final lecture to both women, and Casey grabbed her car keys and her mother’s deposit and check and raced out the door, looking for some semblance of normalcy.

Standing in line at the bank, Casey realized that in Serendipity, there were more people, just like her mother, who enjoyed the face-to-face contact with the cheery bank tellers. She watched as the women greeted each customer by their names with happy smiles, and she wondered what exactly it would take to be able to do that all day every day.

She was generally a happy person. She prided herself on being able to make the best out of every situation. But right now, she was tired. She’d always been a proponent of the old adage, fake it ‘till you make it, but she was tired of faking it. And she didn’t feel like she was ever going to make it.

Casey couldn’t imagine who could be stalking her. She regretted not telling Officer Sanchez about the other missing items now, even though she felt irresponsible for not noticing they were gone at first. That may have been why the intruder had taken those items, because she wouldn’t notice right away. But that would imply that he knew her somehow, and nobody she knew would do something like this.

Then a moment of undiluted clarity hit her. She took all of Kevin’s weaknesses out of the picture: his inability to take action on his own, his smooth façade, his desire for positive attention. In her mind, she remembered every single thing that was missing: the underwear, the hair comb she’d worn to his company’s charity ball, the shoes he’d enjoyed, the wedding photo. It all added up to make her feel stupid for not seeing it before. Of course it was Kevin.

What was he thinking? Casey sighed heavily as she wondered what he thought he was accomplishing by breaking in and taking her things. If he would just call and ask, she’d probably willingly give them to him. Although she would question him. Why would he want her underwear? Did he think he was playing a joke on her?

Irritation turned to anger rather quickly, and Casey vowed to go to the station and talk to Officer Sanchez about it.

It was her turn next, and she walked up to the window with a weak smile aimed at nobody in particular, and slid the paperwork over. She was greeted by her first name, which surprised her.

“Casey Stewart?” The use of her maiden name gave her the correct memory banks to search, reminding her again to have her name changed back.

It was Renae, a girl that had graduated several years ahead of her, but her brother had been a friend of Brent’s. They’d all spent a little time together at parties and such. She didn’t bother correcting the maiden name thing, since she had plans to change it back soon.

“How’ve you been? I didn’t realize you were back in town.”

“Yeah, I’ve been okay. How about you?”

“Oh wow, well, my daughter’s about to be a senior. If that doesn’t make me feel old, nothing will.”

Casey had a vague recollection of Renae getting married right out of high school and her husband dying somehow, but she couldn’t remember the details. “I didn’t know you worked here.” She offered as a way of being nice and making conversation.

“I’ve been working here a few years. Dalton’s back, did you know that? He’s married now.”

“That’s nice for him.” She wasn’t trying to be apathetic, but she hadn’t spent too much time here in fifteen years, only coming back for holiday visits and stuff. She’d lost track of everybody except Summer.

Renae pushed her receipt under the window to her. “Have a great day, and maybe we can get together for drinks sometime or something. You here for good?”

“Not sure what my plans are, but I’m here for a while, anyway.” She shrugged her response and offered up a stronger smile before turning and hitting a wall of chest.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, trying to get around the man who was standing too close behind her.

“Hey, Casey?” She rolled her eyes. If she had known the bank would be a reunion spot, she might not have come.

“Hey Les.” He’d been sleeping on her couch for a week, poor guy couldn’t seem to get away from her, even though she’d been constantly telling him it wasn’t necessary. After the mess with Brent especially, but he wouldn’t budge.

He grabbed her elbow and steered her away from the teller’s counter, uncharacteristically serious. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he said in a low voice.

She was nervous about this for some reason. She couldn’t imagine what Les would have to say to her. Some unspoken agreement kept them from actually talking about Brent, so she couldn’t imagine what was going on now. Was he okay? Had something happened?

“I wanted to let you know that Brent’s been in a bad way for a while.” Ah…so Brent had been talking. Great. She wondered who else in Serendipity knew everything about she and Brent Baum. “Now, don’t get all cracked on me. I was talking to Max about Brent, and you came up as a natural part of the conversation.”

“And they say women are bad to gossip.” Casey couldn’t keep the wryness out of her voice.

“I just wanted to apologize for that night, when we were all skinny-dipping. I know this isn’t the place for it and all, but…I just needed to tell you that it wasn’t anything personal.” He pulled her into the foyer of the bank, where they had some semblance of privacy. “I was trying to get Brent to make a move on you, to realize that he could lose you, so I grabbed you that night. Nothing personal, but you were my buddy’s kid sister’s friend, so there weren’t really any feelings there, aside from getting Brent to shit or get off the pot.”

Casey sighed, “Why are you telling me this? That was forever ago.”

He grinned wickedly before sobering. “Because you need to know how he’s been carrying a torch for you all this time. He kicks himself every time he remembers letting you go.”