When Darkness Falls (22 page)

“Despite everything, I’m glad the two of you have each other.”

Glory’s comment jolted Chloe from her thoughts and back to the present. “Yes, it is a good thing,” she said automatically, looking at Hank. “Don’t you think?”

He was staring into space, and it was obvious that he’d not heard a word of the conversation. Glory shot her a concerned look. She touched Hank’s arm. “Hey? Are you okay?”

This seemed to jerk him out of his stupor. He offered a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. It’s been a long day. I guess I need to get you home.”

“Hank, look at me,” Glory ordered, her aged voice cutting through the room with more power than Chloe would’ve thought possible. “This is not your fault. You’ve spent your whole life trying to take care of your brother. I loved Garrett like a son, but he was his own worst enemy.” Her lower lip quivered as tears began flowing down her cheeks. “It’s not your fault,” she repeated, “it was an accident. There was nothing you nor anyone else could’ve done to prevent it.”

Tears gathered in Hank’s eyes as he nodded, but Chloe could tell from the hard look on his face that he didn’t believe it. That morning she’d rushed to his condo after hearing the news of Garrett’s death, Hank was nearly inconsolable. He kept saying that if only he’d stepped in and helped then Garrett would still be alive.

She kept trying to tell him that it was an accident—a horrible accident. But no matter what she said, it didn’t sink in. At first, she’d attributed Hank’s behavior to the fact that he’d always felt responsible for Garrett, but now, she was starting to wonder if there was something he wasn’t telling her. She had the feeling that he was holding something back, and it was tearing him up inside. Her heart ached for him because she knew what he was going through—that sinking feeling of lonely desperation that was like a poison. The only thing she could do was to stay by his side until he pulled out of it.

After leaving Glory’s, they drove to Chloe’s house in silence. When they arrived, Hank pulled along the side of the street and turned off the engine. He turned to face her. “I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

She took hold of his hand. “I’m so sorry.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

His jaw started working, and she could tell that he was fighting to control his emotions. “That means the world to me,” he gulped. “It feels like my insides have been ripped out.” His voice broke. “Garrett had a lot of faults … but he didn’t deserve to die.”

“No, he didn’t,” Chloe said quietly, her voice ringing with conviction.

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Hank spoke. “I need to get away.” There was a desperate layer to his voice. “I need to sort through a few things.”

“Okay.” A sense of dread came over her. The last thing she wanted was to be separated from Hank, but this wasn’t about her. It was about Hank, and he needed to deal with it his own way. More than anything, she needed to be supportive. “Where will you go?”

“Glory owns a small home that’s near Bodega Bay, just up the coast from San Francisco. I thought I would go there for a few days to clear my head.”

Relief fluttered through her. A few days wasn’t so bad. She could live without him for that length of time. “I think getting away is a good idea.” She gave him a loving smile. “I’ll miss you, but I completely understand.”

He tightened his grip on her hand. There was a sense of desperation in his eyes. “I want you to come with me.”

“What?” Could she do that? Up and leave for a few days with a guy? Her mother would have a conniption fit!

“Please,” he continued. “I need you.”

There was so much pain in his voice that she would’ve agreed to almost anything in that moment just to ease his suffering. And then it hit her—she wanted to go with him! Time seemed to stand still as he awaited her decision. “Okay, I’ll go,” she heard herself say.

He rewarded her with the first real smile she’d seen him give since Garrett’s death. “Thank you.” He brought her fingers to his lips and planted a kiss on them. A tiny spark of life seemed to come back into him. “I can’t wait to show you the bay. We’ll leave tomorrow afternoon. I’ll make all of the arrangements.”

“That sounds great,” Chloe said, wondering how in the heck she was going to explain this one to her mother!

“
M
om
, I have to go away for a few days to Bodega Bay, which is near San Francisco.” Chloe braced herself for the explosion that was sure to follow.

“What? Why?”

Her mother had a strangled sound like she was choking, and she could imagine her, standing in the kitchen, her feet firmly planted on the floor in a battle stance with her hand on her hip. She would be frowning with wrinkles forming across her forehead.

“I have to take a work trip with my boss.” She winced slightly as the words left her mouth, hating that she was not being honest. There was no way she could tell her the truth. Her mother didn’t even know that she was dating Hank. For that matter, she’d not told her about Garrett either. There was no way she could explain everything now.

“Is anyone else from your office going?”

The concern in her mother’s voice pricked her conscience. “No, it’s just Hank and me,” she said, knowing this wasn’t going to sit well.

“I don’t feel comfortable with this, Chloe,” her mother continued. “That’s not fair of your boss to expect you to go on a trip with him … alone. What kind of man puts his employee in that position?”

Chloe raked a hand through her hair, feeling weary to the bone. “He’s a good man, Mom. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I’m sure he’s a good man, but it’s not appropriate for a young lady to go off alone with a man—regardless of how nice he is.”

She rolled her eyes. “If it makes you feel any better—he’s a good, Christian man. I assure you, he only has my best interest at heart.”

“I’m going to call and talk to him myself. Once he understands my hesitation about the situation, he’ll surely—”

“No, Mom!” Chloe blurted. “You can’t!” Panic raced over her. “I’m a grown woman, you have to trust me on this.”

There was a long pause. “Chloe, what’s going on here? Is this really about work?”

She let out an uneasy laugh. “Of course it’s about work. What else would it be about?” Beasty rubbed against her leg. When she leaned down to pet him, he began purring loudly.

“I can’t put my finger on it, but something about this doesn’t seem right. And considering that you’ve been so evasive lately. Trying to get information from you is like pulling a hen’s tooth. What is it that you’re not telling me?”

“Nothing,” she lied, hating herself for it. “It’s all above board, I assure you.”

“I don’t like it,” she snapped. “I don’t like it at all.”

She sighed. “Mom, sooner or later, you’re going to have to start trusting me.”

“I do trust you, Chloe, it’s your boss that I don’t trust.”

“I’ll have my phone with me the entire time. You can call anytime you want.”

“You bet I will,” Naomi inserted quickly.

“It’s getting late. I’m tired, and I need to get some rest.”

“Okay, we’ll continue this conversation tomorrow.” There was a hint of promise in her tone, letting Chloe know that the conversation wasn’t over.

“Sounds good. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Chloe ended the call with a frustrated huff and then realized Darbie was standing in the doorway with her arms folded over her chest. A sly smile spread across her face. “Work trip, huh?”

She scowled. “Geez! Do you always eavesdrop on conversations?”

Darbie shrugged. “Only the good ones. Actually, I just wanted to check on you to see how you’re doing, considering everything that has been going on.”

“It’s been rough,” she admitted. “Hank’s blaming himself for Garrett’s death.”

She made a face. “But that’s ridiculous. It was a car accident. How could that possibly be his fault?”

“I don’t know.” She pressed her fingers into the corners of her eyes and groaned. “It doesn’t make any sense.” She looked at Darbie. “Grief rarely does.”

“I guess you know that better than anyone.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, I do.”

A playful light came into her eyes. “So, Hank wants you to go away with him?”

“Just for a few days—to clear his head.”

“Uh, huh.” She arched an eyebrow. “Things must be getting pretty serious.”

“Yeah.” She looked at Darbie. “I’m crazy about him.”

“I know you are, and he seems to feel the same way about you.”

“Yes, I think he does.”

She waved a hand. “Go on your trip and have a wonderful time. And don’t worry—when your mom starts pumping my mom for information, I’ll be sure and drill it in that it’s nothing more than a simple work trip.” She made air quotes.

Guilt pummeled over Chloe. “Thank you. I know I should’ve told my mom the truth.”

A feigned look of horror came over Darbie’s face. “Yikes! If you had, she would’ve been on the first plane out here.”

Chloe chuckled. “You’re right about that.”

“I figure what your mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Hank is your boss … and I’m sure you’ll manage to somehow squeeze in the topic of work during the trip.”

Chloe gave her an appreciative smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She winked. “I’ve got your back.”

C
hloe was going
with him to Bodega Bay! That was one bright spot in the midst of the tragedy—something he could hold onto. Hank willed himself to concentrate on the trip and all of the things he would show Chloe once they arrived. That lasted about five minutes, and then his mind was drawn right back to the thing he was trying to avoid—the brutal guilt he felt over Garrett’s death! It bubbled up like acid in his throat, and no matter how hard he tried to swallow the pain, it kept plaguing him over and over. He kept asking himself if there was anything he could’ve done to avoid it.

The accident report showed that Garrett was not only speeding but also driving recklessly up the canyon. The officers investigating the accident had brought up the possibility of suicide, but that was so far fetched and out of the question that he didn’t give it a second thought. Garrett’s instinct for survival was stronger than anyone’s he knew—including his own. In Hank’s mind, he could think of only two logical scenarios that would’ve led to Garrett’s erratic behavior—either he was drunk out of his mind, or he was being chased. His gut told him it was the latter, especially considering the fact that V had swallowed her pride and come to him, asking for help on Garrett’s behalf. Garrett was a compulsive gambler and was always getting in over his head. If a person gave Garrett $20, he’d owe $40 by the end of the week. Hank had bailed him out too many times to count. He’d bailed him out until he couldn’t do it any longer. Finally, when Garrett’s debts were starting to put the business in jeopardy, he cut him off. It was around that same time when Garrett had started his “real estate company.” Even though Hank hoped with all of his heart that Garrett was on the straight and narrow, a part of him had known the truth. For some time, he’d suspected that Garrett might be the copycat Ghost Thief
.
The thefts had all been relatively simply as far as thefts went—a walk in the park for Garrett who knew almost as much about the business as he did—with the exception of cracking safes. Garrett had not possessed the patience needed to learn that. Even as methodical as Hank was, it had stretched him to the limit—taking him years to become an expert. Like him, Garrett was agile enough to climb anything, and loved the thrill of extreme sports. A personality such as his would thrive in the intoxicating world of theft. Unfortunately, Garrett had not learned that the victory was hollow. The thirst for the thrill of the chase could never be sated, for there would always be a more exciting or lucrative job, looming on the horizon.

Oh, he’d convinced himself that Garrett was clean, but that was mostly because he didn’t want to have to face the fact that his brother was getting in deeper and deeper over his head. Hank was so desperate to separate himself from his past that he’d turned a blind eye to what Garrett was really doing. Every time Detective Flores came sniffing around, asking questions about the reoccurring Ghost Thefts, it lay on Hank’s tongue to drop some hint that would lead him in Garrett’s direction. After all, it was his time in prison—and the grief over Guy’s death—that had prompted him to go on the straight and narrow. But prison had been hell, and he didn’t wish that on anybody, especially not his own brother. A part of him wondered why the detective never thought to investigate Garrett. Then again, Jared was so determined to pin the thefts on him that he couldn’t see past the end of his nose. And he didn’t know Garrett like Hank did.

At the funeral home, he about lost it when V leaned in and whispered that Sam needed to talk to him about Garrett’s debts. It was all Hank could do to keep his composure. In that instant, any lingering sentiments that he felt for V vanished. He saw her for what she was—manipulative and dangerous. His thoughts went to Sam as a burning anger pulsed through him. He tightened his hands on the steering wheel. If Sam had anything to do with Garrett’s death, so help him …”

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to get a handle on his emotions. In the old days, he would’ve hunted Sam down and made him pay for what he’d done, but Hank was a changed man. He’d promised himself that he would never go down that path again. A part of him realized that if he were to open up that part of himself again, it might destroy him this time. And there was Chloe to consider. There was no doubt that he was falling in love with her. She and Glory were the only two things he had left, and he wasn’t about to do anything that would put them in harm’s way. If Sam were somehow responsible for Garrett’s death then he was going to have to trust that the investigators would come to that conclusion and the law would take its course. Even as he thought the words, he knew there was no hope of that ever happening. Still, he couldn’t allow himself to get dragged into some sordid game of revenge. Had he not been afraid that Detective Flores would think he was an accessory to the thefts, he would’ve called him up and told him that he suspected that Garrett was the thief.

He stepped out of his car and heard something in the parking garage. His muscles went tense as he looked over his shoulder. When he realized there was no one there, his pulse returned to normal. He chuckled inwardly. Old habits died hard. He wondered if he would ever stop looking over his shoulder.

He got on the elevator and punched the button to go up to his floor. As the door opened, and he walked down the hall toward his condo, he felt the eerie sensation of being watched. He quickened his steps in order to reach his condo but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the white envelope, leaning against the door. He picked it up and turned it over. It was blank. He looked back in the direction from which he’d come. No one was there. He unlocked the door, stepped inside, and locked it behind him. He placed his keys on the counter and opened it. His breath caught as he began to read:

Hank swore and crumbled up the note in his fist. Then, he tossed it across the room. Tears stung his eyes as rage boiled inside him. Now he knew for sure that Sam was responsible for Garrett’s death.

C
hloe would later remember
it as a soft flutter against her lips. She sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. She’d been in a deep sleep—thankfully, a dreamless sleep—when something had awoken her. She touched her lips. It almost felt like someone had kissed her. That was odd. Had someone been in her room? She frowned as the familiar panic raced through her veins.
Not this again!
Things had been going so well that she thought Dan had finally disappeared from her life. Tears gathered in her eyes as she looked around the dark room. Her gaze went to the open suitcase on the floor and the clothes that she’d neatly folded and placed inside it. Then her eyes fell on Beasty, who was sitting in the chair that Glory had given her—watching her intently. She had the impression that his keen eyes were trying to tell her something as he glanced at the window. She looked in the direction Beasty was looking and rocked back in horror. For there, in the window was a face. A scream tore through her throat before she could silence it.

D
arbie came rushing
into the room. Her hair was all over the place, her eyes wild. “What’s wrong?”

Chloe was sitting in the bed, clutching the covers in her fists. There was a stricken look on her face.

Darbie went to her side. “Are you okay?”

“I saw him,” she managed to squeak.

Concern filled Darbie’s eyes. “You saw Dan?”

Chloe began shaking her head back and forth. “No! It wasn’t Dan!”

“Then who?”

“Garrett!” A new dread filled her eyes as she spoke. “I saw Garrett.”

“
O
kay
, start at the beginning and tell me what happened.”

Darbie’s voice was controlled and practical, sounding very much like the cop she one day hoped to become. She and Chloe were sitting in the kitchen. The morning sun was streaming in through the window and splashing onto the floor, making the events from the night before seem less ominous. More than anything, Chloe regretted screaming and bringing everything to Darbie’s attention. If she had it her way, she would’ve dubbed the incident a nightmare and never mentioned it again, but it was obvious that Darbie had no intention of letting it go.

“I was sound asleep, and I felt something touch my lips.”

“Felt something? What? Beasty?”

“No, it was soft and light.” Her face colored slightly. “The only way I can describe it is like a butterfly landed on my lips. Like a soft kiss.”

“Are you sure you didn’t dream the whole thing?”

She shrugged. “It could’ve been a dream,” she added quickly, even though she didn’t think it was. It had felt so real. But she didn’t want Darbie to think she was losing it, so she had to appear rational.

“You’ve been pretty distraught over Garrett’s death.”

“Yes, I have.”

“Okay, so you’re sleeping, and you feel something touch your lips. Then what happened?”

“I looked around the room to see if anyone was there. Of course, no one was. My suitcase was open, and my clothes were in it. Everything was exactly the same as it had been when I fell asleep.” She stopped, her heart picking up a notch. No, everything wasn’t the same—not exactly. That’s what had been bothering her the night before.

Darbie picked up on her body language. “What?”

Chloe cocked her head. “Did you come into my room and move my laptop from the chair?”

“Really?” Darbie made a face. “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know.” She paused. “When I went to bed last night, I left my laptop on the chair.” She motioned. “You know that crazy chair that my client gave me.”

“Yeah, the one you keep talking about recovering.”

“When I woke up, Beasty was curled up in the chair, and my laptop was on the desk.”

Darbie looked skeptical. “Are you sure? Could you have moved it from the chair to the desk before you went to bed?”

Chloe searched her brain, trying to remember. “Yeah, it’s possible.” She shook her head. “But I could’ve sworn I left it on the chair. I was reading about Bodega Bay before I went to bed, and I didn’t want to have to get out of bed and put it on the desk, so I left it on the chair.”

Darbie tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Why would anyone move your laptop from the chair to the desk?”

The skeptical tone in Darbie’s voice was irritating. “I don’t know.” She raked her hair out of her face. “Look, I know this all sounds crazy, and I probably did dream the whole thing.” She paused.

“But?” Darbie prompted.

“But, it felt so real. Something woke me up, and then Beasty was looking at the window. He sensed something was off too. I looked at the window because Beasty was looking in that direction.” As the words trailed off, she knew how ridiculous she sounded. She hated the uncertainty that crept into Darbie’s eyes. The look that said,
You’re crazy!
How many times had she seen her mother give that same look?

“Well, maybe we should ask Beasty,” Darbie said, an exasperated look on her face. “Or better yet—maybe Beasty moved it.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “No need to get smart about it!” The conversation was taking a turn for the worse. She had to try and salvage things the best she could. She forced a light tone into her voice as she continued. “I’m sure it was a dream. That’s the only logical explanation.”

Darbie studied her with sharp eyes. “Yes,” she said, looking relieved. “You’ve been super stressed over Garrett’s death. It’s not uncommon to have a nightmare about it.”

“Exactly,” Chloe agreed.

Darbie gave her a suspicious look. “Are you just saying this to try and minimize the situation?”

“Goodness no,” Chloe said with a shaky laugh.

Darbie was unconvinced. “Maybe you should get help. Talk to a therapist. You’ve been through so much … what could it hurt?”

A shiver of horror ran down Chloe’s spine as her lips formed a hard line. It was bad enough that she’d been seeing Dan … but Garrett too? She couldn’t think about it too much or the horror would overtake her, and she’d never get back to normal. “I tell you, I’m fine.” She looked Darbie in the eye, daring her to disagree.

“Okay.” Darbie held up her hands. “But you have to promise me that if anything else strange happens that you’ll get help.”

Silence.

“Promise me,” Darbie said, eyeing her.

“You have my word.” She paused. “Hey, this is changing the subject, but don’t you have a hot date this weekend with your professor?”

A look of pleasure came over Darbie’s face. “Yes, Logan and I are going out.”

“Oh, I see you’re on a first name basis now,” Chloe teased, relieved that she’d managed to steer the conversation away from her. “What about Steve? Aren’t the two of you still dating?”

Darbie made a sour face. “I don’t know what we’re doing half the time. One thing I do know is that we’re not married, so if I decide to go on a date with someone else then that’s my business. Steve can just get over it.”

Chloe chuckled. “Alridy then. I guess that solves that. I’m sorry I won’t be here to meet the professor.”

Darbie wrinkled her nose. “Me too. But if I have anything to say about it, this will be the first of many dates to come. You can meet him next time.”

“Sounds great.”

They looked over as Beasty strode into the room.

“Hey, boy, come here,” Darbie said.

Chloe was about to remind her that Beasty never followed orders when he walked over and forcefully rubbed his head against Darbie’s leg. She gathered him in her arms and began stroking his fur. He began purring like a loud motor.

Chloe made a face. “You really are a traitor, Beasty! Whether you realize it or not, you belong to me—not Darbie.”

Darbie chuckled. “Hey, don’t be a spoiled sport. Beasty knows a good thing when he sees it. We’re big buds, aren’t we, Beasty?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s because you keep feeding him those cans of tuna.”

“That’s not the only reason,” Darbie cooed. “It’s also because of my magnetic personality and killer good looks, right Beasty?”