CHAPTER ELEVEN
Shae let her gaze drift slowly over the patrons of the Cavern from her spot in the corner. She was looking for someone in particular, but so far, he was a no-show.
The day had been eventful, with her visiting Rose Phifer and Harlan Whitmore. Both had been very good friends of her parents, as well as Chester and Stella. Rose was quite the source of information, especially after sharing that Whitney Bell and Clayton Schaeffer had a thing going on back in high school that had apparently carried over through the years. It made Shae question what else had gone on in Blyth Lake that she wasn’t aware of.
“Shae, it’s good to see you.”
She’d been concentrating on the front entrance and hadn’t seen Chad Schaeffer making his way over from the other side of the bar. He’d been playing darts with a dark-haired man who reminded her of Jace, but that wasn’t surprising seeing as he’d been on her mind the whole day.
“Chad, it’s been a long time.” Shae scooted out of the booth she’d claimed around thirty minutes ago and gave him a hug. He’d been friends with Emma and had also been the one to throw the bonfire she’d attended on the night she went missing. “I was sorry to hear about Clayton’s recent troubles.”
“No one’s to blame for Clay’s reckless actions but himself, and he knows that.” Chad motioned toward the other side of the booth, silently asking if he could join her. She nodded her agreement and wondered if he wouldn’t be willing to answer some of her questions. “He could have killed Lance and Brynn, if he’d followed through with that stupidity. You know it’s bad when even Wes was trying to get our older brother to see reason. Hell, everyone in town is losing their damned heads over the police asking questions. Someone is bound to get hurt sooner or later.”
Shae instinctively wanted to say that people had been hurt, but she understood what he meant. Being questioned was enough to cast doubt on one’s reputation around here nowadays. The residents of Blyth Lake placed a lot of pride in their surname and the past generations. This wasn’t an easy time for any of them.
“How long are you in town for?” Chad asked, leaning his forearms on the table. His dark eyes seemed to measure her response, more so because that wasn’t what he really wanted to ask her.
“I don’t know.” The front door opened, but it was only Harlan and Chester coming in for a drink before their weekly card game. She twirled the straw that was in her glass of water in frustration. She might as well tell Chad what he really wanted to know. “I came back to find answers. Whitney’s death means that the same individual who took Emma is still here wandering around free. We obviously missed something back then, and it’s time we set it right. Emma didn’t deserve to be taken away from a promising life. She once had everything going for her, and then…some scumbag took it all away.”
“We never got a chance to talk before you and your parents left town.” Chad reached across the table and rested his hand over hers. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wonder if Emma wouldn’t still be with us if I hadn’t thrown that damned bonfire party. I’m sorry, Shae. I truly am.”
“It’s instinctive for us to think we could have stopped something in our past if we’d only chosen another path or done something differently. I look at it that Emma had the time of her life that night before her luck turned. She was with her friends, she danced by the fire with a boy she had a crush on, and she left there smiling according to everyone who saw her head off into the woods to walk home.” Shae might have stretched the truth, but it was evident Chad needed some type of understanding from her. She still played the what-if game, knowing full well it wasn’t good for her mental health and that it wouldn’t change a damned thing. “Now go and finish your game of darts. Your friend is burning a hole through the back of your head.”
“Do you want to join us?” Chad offered, squeezing her hand to let her know how much he appreciated their chat. “You don’t have to sit here all by your—”
“Am I interrupting?”
Shae was startled by Jace’s presence. She wasn’t sure where he’d come from, because she’d had her eye on the front door this entire time.
“No, not at all,” Chad said smoothly, sliding his hand away from hers. His unexpected wink told her what he thought about her reaction. “We were just catching up. It’s good to see you, Jace. How was the Marines?”
“Hard, Chad. God bless the Corps. It’s been a long time.” Jace shook the man’s hand, though he never took his gaze off Shae. It was in that moment that she could literally hear the match sliding on the score of a matchbook. “I didn’t mean to rush you off.”
There was an intimate suggestion in Jace’s tone that made it sound as if there was something between the two of them. Her heart raced at the insinuation. She had to remind herself that he was twelve years too late.
“Not at all.” Chad waved off Jace’s not-so-sincere apology as he stood from the booth. “I’ve got a game of darts to get back to, so you two enjoy your evening.”
Neither she nor Jace corrected Chad on his assumption that this reunion was anything other than two friends bumping into one another. She hadn’t even known Jace would be here tonight.
“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” Shae tried to concentrate on the comings and goings of the Cavern, but that was made more difficult when Jace took Chad’s place in the booth across from her. His right knee brushed against hers, but shifting her body would let him know she was affected by his touch. “How are things at the house? Were you able to get your furniture delivered?”
“The Benson twins showed up this afternoon with the boxes and furniture that I had put into storage, but it’s not nearly enough to make a dent in the house.” The small tic on the side of Jace’s jawline told her that he hadn’t stopped by to make small talk. “Listen, Kyle Foster stopped by my place last night around one o’clock in the morning.”
Shae was a bit confused by his admission, because she’d run into Kyle this afternoon on her way back from Chester and Stella’s house. They’d had an open conversation about the night Emma disappeared, and not once did he seem upset that she’d brought his name up to Detective Kendrick. By Jace’s look of concern, it wasn’t good.
“Really?” Shae pushed her glass of water away, intent to hear what Jace had to say in case it differed from her discussion with Kyle. “What did he want?”
“Where did you go after you left Nick’s house that night?”
The question stunned Shae, for she’d gone over this numerous times with her parents, the police, and even in therapy over the years. She could have easily made it back to Blyth Lake to pick up Emma from the bonfire. She hadn’t made that possibly life-saving decision. Why was Kyle bringing it up with Jace and not her?
“I drove over to the collage to meet up with one of my friends who’d told me she was staying on campus that weekend.” Shae had done her best over the past twelve years to put all this behind her, and yet here she was…purposefully bringing these long-lost memories to the surface yet again. “She wasn’t there, though. She’d changed her mind at the last minute and drove to her parents’ house for the weekend.”
Shae didn’t like the sense of foreboding coming from Jace’s side of the table. She still wasn’t sure why Kyle would have driven to Jace’s house last night, unless…
“Oh, my God,” Shae whispered, leaning forward so that her voice didn’t carry. “Are you telling me that Kyle Foster thinks that I—”
“Let’s just say that he poured that poison into Detective Kendrick’s ear.”
Shae was glad she hadn’t had any alcohol. She would have thrown the contents up all over this table. To have someone believe she could harm her sister in any way was unimaginable to her.
“Jace, I spoke with Kyle today. He was gracious and understanding about my conversation with the police. Why would he go to you and suggest—”
“Foster might be younger than most of the townsfolk in Blyth Lake, but he’s old school. He takes after Sheriff Percy, and you know how his life is turning out. You slung mud Foster’s way, and he’s slinging it right back at you.”
“But why go to you?” Shae resisted the urge to pick up her cell phone and call Detective Kendrick. She needed to set things right, but she wouldn’t do so while sitting in a bar. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“It does when you consider the media has hounded my family since Noah discovered Sophia’s body in the wall of his house.” Jace put things into perspective for her, giving her hope that her presence in town didn’t muddy the waters. Detective Kendrick was a smart man. He would see through Foster’s attempt to flip the script. Surely, Kendrick was bright enough to know when he was being conned. “I don’t believe Kendrick is keeping Deputy Warner or Deputy Foster in the loop after what happened with Sheriff Percy. Let’s face it, the man’s negligence got Deputy Wallace murdered. Warner might be a good officer, but Foster clocks in and out without caring one wit about the good folks in this town. He apparently wasn’t caught up to speed about the fact Kendrick doesn’t believe me or my family are involved in Emma’s disappearance or Whitney’s murder.”
Or any of the other missing girls from the stack of photographs Lance had found in the basement of his home. Shae didn’t need to state the obvious, though. She was just grateful that Jace had her back. This incident proved to her she needed to help Detective Kendrick in any way she could and to keep trusted friends closer.
“Lance and I made sure Foster understood we wouldn’t allow him to run roughshod over you. We made sure he got the message loud and clear.” Jace rubbed his fingers over the side of his face, as if the whiskers he hadn’t shaved off today were irritating his skin. He looked good, even after a day of moving boxes and furniture. “Do you want to tell me who you’re looking for or do I have to guess?”
Shae hadn’t realized she’d made her stakeout quite so obvious. And no, she didn’t want Jace to know who she wanted to speak with tonight or else he might take offense.
“I paid a visit to Rose and Tiny up at the lake today,” Shae shared instead, hoping that she could avoid his question until he joined his brothers who had claimed a table near the bar a couple of minutes ago. “I also spent time with Harlan and his wife. I’m just trying to get caught up with old friends, as well as try to see if they remembered anything from that time. I know Detective Kendrick has spoken to almost everyone in town, but I’ve come to find out that a familiar face can jog their memories.”
“You’re doing it again.” Jace’s searching gaze told her that she hadn’t fooled him in the least. It wasn’t very nice of him to keep calling her out on it, either. He actually smiled when she pursed her lips in frustration. “Well?”
“I want to talk to Jimmy, if you must know.” Jace wanted honesty? Then she’d give him honesty. “Your uncle saw Emma the night she disappeared, coming out of the woods on Seventh Street. Everyone is assuming he was drunk and didn’t actually see her. But what if he did? What if everyone is wrong and Jimmy saw something that night that could give us the answers we need to find Emma’s body?”
*
Shae unlocked the door to the studio apartment above the bar, thankful that there was a private entrance from downstairs. It beat going outside and around the building in the pouring down rain. She was tired, irritated, and needed a cup of tea that she sure as hell wasn’t going to get from a bar.
“Out of town,” Shae muttered with disbelief, wondering if that was an excuse Jace gave just so she wouldn’t talk to his uncle. Guilt slammed into her at the thought. No, Jace wouldn’t lie to her. “Damn it.”
Shae tossed her keys and cell phone onto the coffee table as she made her way to the small kitchen. She instinctively walked to the stove, looking for a kettle, only to remember that Brynn didn’t leave one in the apartment. Maybe she should make a drive into the city for some essentials. A kettle would sure help her out. It was doubtful that the small grocery store run by Mr. Moore carried kettles or anything but the Celestial Tea brand.
Shae had grown accustomed to British tea over the years, like Leadenhall Street or Bond Street English Breakfast Tea. Each contained a blend of Ceylon and Assam teas that were rich and flavorful.
Thinking of her favorite beverage reminded her of yesterday, when Jace had practically choked to death thinking she’d given him coffee. The memory shouldn’t have caused her to smile, but it continued to. He’d asked her out to dinner tomorrow, but she’d politely refused. Their past was their past, and she needed to concentrate on her future.
The cup Shae had used earlier was sitting upside down on a dishtowel. She’d washed it out before leaving this morning, allowing it to air dry. It didn’t take her long to fill the cup up with water and set it in the microwave. She pressed the appropriate time that would bring the water to the perfect temperature at which to steep tea—one hundred and seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit. It gave her time to make her way over to the bed to change into something more comfortable. It wasn’t like she was going to see anyone else tonight, and the tea needed time to cool naturally to one hundred and sixty.
Shae had managed to unpack a few items from her suitcase this morning. Her sleepwear, which consisted of shorts and t-shirts, were in the small dresser on the far wall. She rested her hand against the top drawer so she could remove her heels when her mind registered the boots lined up against the wall next to her other shoes.
Bile hit the back of her throat.
She struggled to breathe as her eyes locked onto the suede ankle boots she hadn’t seen in twelve years.
Emma had borrowed them without asking the night she disappeared.
Someone had gotten inside the apartment. That someone had to be the same person who killed her sister, keeping that pair of boots all this time until they could return them to her.
Shae managed to gain her composure enough to quickly scan the open layout, looking for any hiding spot that would conceal a fully-grown man. She spun around and faced the bathroom, where the door stood half-open. Was he in there, hiding behind the shower curtain?
She didn’t stop to think as she ran for the front door.
Shae crossed the threshold and would most likely have stumbled down the steps had Jace not been standing at the top of the staircase to catch her.
She was in his arms before he could ask her what was wrong. Not even the warmth of his embrace could chase away the chill burrowed deep inside at the sight of those boots purposefully placed inside the apartment just as if she’d unpacked them herself.
“Shae?”
Jace would have pushed her away had she not done it herself first. She grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him downstairs. They needed the police. A bubble of hysteria tickled her throat at the thought of calling Kyle Foster, but someone could very well still be inside her bathroom.
“We have to go,” Shae said somewhat desperately, quickly moving around him and trying to put distance between them and the possible danger that lurked inside the shadows. “He’s inside my apartment. We need to call the—”
“Go downstairs,” Jace barked, somehow managing to get his wrist out of her tight grasp. She snatched his shirt, not sure if he understood what she was staying. “Tell Noah and Lance the same—”
“You can’t go in there, Jace.” Shae desperately tried to tug at his arm once more, needing him to come downstairs with her. This was a matter for the police. “He was inside my apartment. He’s probably still in there somewhere.”
Shae had been flicking her gaze from him to the open door behind them, checking to see if he was coming after them. The nausea that had previously threatened to overtake her was edging ever closer. Why wouldn’t Jace listen to her?
“H-he put Emma’s boots in there,” Shae whispered, her throat closing as another nail was hammered into her belief that Emma was dead. Her mind had always accepted that principle, but her heart would eternally hold out hope. Those boots would forever remain seared into her mind. “He—”
A sob caught in the back of her throat, cutting off her words.
“Stay here.”
Jace moved away from her so fast that her fingers never even loosened from her fist before she could stop him. It was then she noticed that he was wearing a holster and the firearm rested in the palm of his hand as he cautiously entered the studio apartment. It had never even occurred to her to grab the one out of her purse.
She held her breath and strained to hear any sounds over the music in the bar below. She was certain that he was in danger.
Twenty seconds later he emerged, his features practically set in stone.
Shae hadn’t realized she’d been waiting for him to say she’d imagined it all…that no one had invaded her privacy and a twisted serial killer hadn’t left the ankle boots her sister had worn the night she’d disappeared.
She didn’t fight him when he took her in his arms, offering her the security she so desperately needed.
Her presence in town had drawn a monster out of hiding.
It took a moment for Shae to recognize the penetrating and raw emotion that washed over her—rage. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, thankfully casting her relentless grief and remorse aside as if they were nothing.
She might have lured a monster from his lair, but he’d awakened something even more terrifying—a woman now bent solely on revenge.