Relentless: Three Novels (8 page)

Margaux put her hand on his forearm in a comforting way. “What happened when she went in there?”

Tears streamed down his face and neck. “I heard three gunshots. And my world collapsed.”

He took several deep breaths, as if he had been running. “I ran in but it was too late. All three of them were dead in less than a few seconds. I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t want my brother to be remembered as a man who had killed himself and his family. I did love him and felt bad about what I did to him. I felt bad about what I drove him to. So, I got rid of the gun.”

I listened to the story in amazement. It all seemed so surreal.

Margaux leaned in and gave Ray a hug as he sobbed as if the sounds were heaved up out of his soul and tossed into the room.

The only haunted person left in that cottage was Ray, and he was alive.

Chapter Twelve

“Well, this is the last box,” I said to Elizabeth.

“I can’t believe you guys are actually moving from that great little shabby chic cottage with the garden. After all, the ghosts are gone.”

“I feel we need a fresh start. And Ray, poor Ray. He can’t even look me in the eye because I know his terrible secret.”

“All right. I can understand that. The truck is packed and ready to go. Nice of him to give you a household of stuff.”

“Yeah, he’s generous to a fault. Just a minute, Liz. I want to say goodbye to Ray.”

I walked across the street to Ray’s house and found him on his porch carving a little toy bird. It was beautiful.

“I made this for my little buddy.” He handed it to me.

“Aw, thank you.” I turned the bird over and over in my hands. “You make beautiful things with your hands.”

“It’s my one saving grace,” he said. “A little art talent.”

I felt so bad for him. He looked like he was sad to be losing us as tenants. “I just wanted to say thanks for letting us stay here. I loved the cottage. It’s so comfy.”

“I should be the one thanking you.” He set down his carving tools and walked closer toward me. I opened my arms and he gave me a long hug. “Thanks to you and all that hocus pocus, I am free of my demons. I also owe you and Margaux huge debt of gratitude for not going to the cops about what I did with the gun.”

“You didn’t shoot them. And you were just trying to protect your brother’s name, not your own reputation. If you had tried to explain to the police, they might have turned it around on you and tried to charge you with a crime. Like concealing evidence or something. At the very least.”

Ray nodded.

“Not that you asked me, but as far as I can tell, you loved someone you shouldn’t have loved. She wasn’t yours to love. But the person who should have loved her…didn’t.”

He nodded sadly.

I got kind of choked up. “I think you’re a good man, Ray. I wish you all the best and true happiness when you are ready to find it.”

“You are a nice woman, Jodie. The ghosts are gone, so, tell me the truth. Are you really moving out because you don’t want to feel anything for me?”

I nodded. “It’s too soon after my divorce. I need to take care of myself and my son. I admit it, I am drawn to you, but it’s for the wrong reasons. Can you understand where I’m coming from?”

“You pity me, don’t you, Jodie?”

“Of course! I have compassion. It was a terrible tragedy. You didn’t pull the trigger, but you carry the guilt because you think you caused it.”

“I did cause it,” he said miserably.

“Can I tell you something about domestic violence?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Sure.”

“The victims always think that it’s their fault. And even though Debbie and Bryce died, and you didn’t, you are still a victim, too.”

“That’s true.”

“But you didn’t
make
that happen, Ray. I mean, you had an affair with Debbie, but didn’t you only do it after she was already being abused by Cliff?”

“Yes, and she saw me as a hero and a mediator. Long before I ever kissed her, I saved her life a hundred times from Cliff.”

“See? You were a bright spot in her life, Ray. Without you, she would have died long before she did.”

He nodded. “You’re very kind, Jodie. And you understand a lot about what happened that other people wouldn’t. Did someone abuse you, too?”

“Yeah, but I got out before I got killed. If my ex does anything to me now, he will go directly to jail because he has done it before. I am not putting up with that, not ever again, and Frank is even skating on thin ice for getting to see our son. He has to pee in a cup for the cops every month to make sure he isn’t drinking or using drugs.”

“I could be your
hero,” he said softly.

“I won’t let you, Ray. With a small son and a demanding teaching career, I am not equipped to be there for you to deal with this kind of tragic life event and the fallout from it. Not that I haven’t thought about it. About you. You’re very kind, but my child has to come first—I have to give everything to him and make sure he has a safe home and a happy life. Can you understand that?”

“Yes.”

“And I have kind of a squirrely ex-husband, too. He’s unpredictable when he drinks, okay when he doesn’t, but there are no guarantees that he won’t show up someday drunk and try to take Trenton and disappear with him. Or hurt us. Or you. Or all of us.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“That is
exactly
why I have to leave here, Ray. I don’t want Frank to come here thinking that there is something is between us and then have history repeat itself. As it often does, you know?”

“Thank you, pretty lady. You think ahead very well.”

I nodded. “I have to. That’s what mothers do. And…you’re welcome. Take good care of yourself. Try to forgive yourself. Find your peace.”

“I don’t know if I can. I’ve lost so much. But I’ll try.”

“You are worthy of a great love, Ray. Never forget that.”

Tears misted his eyes. “So are you, Jodie. So are you.”

I smiled at him and we waved goodbye. I walked over to the moving truck and told Elizabeth that we could leave now.

“You sure you want to do this?” she asked.

“Yeah, I already signed a contract with my new school and I can’t live in that cottage another day, knowing what happened in there. And I don’t want anything violent to happen between Ray and Frank. I can see the handwriting on the wall. The smartest thing to do is bail out before I get in any deeper.”

“I think Ray was a little in love with you and Trenton.”

“I’m not blind to that, but I can’t live in another woman’s shadow like that, Liz. And I sure as heck won’t make my kid into a replacement son for Ray, either.”

“You have
some
guts, lady,” Liz said and started the truck.

“Thanks for helping me find them, Liz. Let’s hit the road.”

Liz took off in the rental truck as I followed behind her in my car with the kids in the back seat, playing with Bryce’s old toys. Buck, the puppy, sat nicely secured in his dog seat and looked out the front passenger window, his ears flapping in the breeze.

I looked in the rearview mirror one last time.

Ray—and the cottage—got smaller and smaller in the mirror as I left that part of my life behind.

The End

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TELEPHONE TERROR

A thriller by

Lindsey Stiles

Telephone Terror

Published by Lindsey Stiles

Copyright © 2013 by Lindsey Stiles

All rights reserved.

Ebook Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Telephone Terror

Chapter One

On the twenty-fifth anniversary of her mother’s murder, Nikki drove to their old house.

It was the first time since her mother had died that she’d visited the home they had once shared as a happy family.

Now, there was only Nikki and her sister left. Their grandparents, who had also passed away, had raised them after their mother had died and their dad had disappeared on that same horrific day.

Sighing, Nikki pulled over and parked her car across the street from their old Victorian house. The yard looked like every other yard on the street: neat, manicured, perfect. The grounds were a stark contrast to the condition of the house. The house, once grand, now looked forlorn. She hadn’t expected the house to be vacant, but from her view of the torn green drapes in the living room window, it obviously was. A chill ran through her as she recognized the drapes from her childhood. Nikki had memories of those drapes swaying in the breeze of a rotating fan while her parents played records and danced together.

Nikki shut off the engine and got out of her car. Keys in hand, she stood on the sidewalk across the street, staring, her heart hammering and her breathing shallow. Yes, she was having a panic attack, but she knew she could overcome it. The important thing was not to run or let herself start screaming.

She was dismayed, though, at the paint peeling off in large sections, the screen door dangling askew by one hinge, and a few broken windows. Leaves clogged the rain gutters and the gingerbread trim on the second story was pulling away from the nails. The only thing that looked decent about the home was that the lawn was mowed, the walnut trees were professionally trimmed and the flowerbeds were full of gently blowing pansies. One odd thing stood out. A shiny plastic “For Sale by Owner” sign was planted in the front yard.

Nikki crossed the quiet suburban street and stood in the grassy front yard. If only the house could talk and tell her what had really happened that day. Both she and her sister had undergone a lot of therapy, but they had just been too young to understand or remember. Everything was forgotten, except for the fear. Years later, that fear remained her constant battle.

“Hello?” said a male voice behind her.

She screamed in surprise, but when she turned around, she saw a pleasant-looking dark-haired man with crystal-blue eyes. He held a spade in one hand and a tray of flowers in the other. She put her hand over her mouth when she realized that he was just a smiling gardener. Humiliated, she tried to catch her breath. “Oops! Sorry. I was…I am...jumpy sometimes.”

“I’m so sorry I startled you,” the man apologized. “I was just about to plant some more flowers in the back yard.”

“I didn’t hear you come up behind me. I was just looking at the house.”

“That’s okay.” He paused. “I’m the owner of this house for sale. Are you interested in taking a look?”

She hesitated and then replied, “Sure. I’d like that. Very much.”

He put down the spade, took off his gardening gloves and reached out to shake hands with her. Out of politeness, she took it. His handshake was firm and his sweaty hands were calloused.

“Jimmy Matthews,” he said.

“Jimmy Matthews? The boy who used to mow our lawn?” she blurted.

“
Your
lawn? Tara? Little Tara?” he asked, his eyebrows raising slightly.

“No, I’m Nikki, her younger sister.”

“You’re all grown up. I didn’t even recognize you.”

“I didn’t recognize you either.” She hesitated. “How do
you
own our old house?”

“My parents bought it from your grandparents after your mom died and your dad…disappeared. My parents passed it onto me when they recently died in a car accident. I really need to sell it.”

“I’m very sorry your parents died.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Drunk driver.”

“What a terrible tragedy.”

He nodded and looked at the ground for a few moments.

“The yard looks amazing,” she said appreciatively. “Even nicer than when you took care of it when we were kids.”

His eyes met hers. “Thanks. I own my dad’s landscaping and lawn care service now. I started fixing up the house on the outside about a month ago. Believe it or not, it was much worse.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Yeah, it was full of trash and dead shrubs. My dad wouldn’t let me touch it when he was alive.”

She shuddered. “I’m glad you cleaned up the grounds.”

“Fresh paint is next for the outside, but I have no idea of what to do with the inside until I get it emptied out.”

“Emptied out? What do you mean?” she asked. “No one’s lived here since?”

“No,” he said quickly. “My parents owned the house, but they never did anything with it. They never rented it, much to my mother’s frustration. It’s almost just as your family left it, 25 years ago. To the day, apparently.”

“Oh, my goodness,” Nikki said, swallowing hard with the realization that he even remembered the exact date. “Now, I
really
want to see it.”

“It’s locked. Let me run down the street and get the house keys.”

“Okay. I’ll wait here,” she said.

He jogged toward his big house on acreage at the end of the dead-end street, down by the river.

After he left, she sat on the front steps and waited for him. She could remember sitting here to play jacks with her sister and eat homemade ice pops made from Kool-Aid. Her mind drifted to the past and only good memories surfaced. She was relieved. On impulse, she texted her sister, Tara, and told her where she was.

Get out of there!
Tara texted back.
What are you even thinking?

No! I want to put my fears to rest, once and for all
, Nikki texted back.

Call me later!
Tara texted.
I’m worried about you.

Okay,
sis,
Nikki texted back.

Before she knew it, Jimmy Matthews showed up with the house keys and a flyer with the price of the house and a list of its features. She got up from the front steps and glanced at the flyer before she put it in her purse.