The River's Secret Read online

“We never did much talking when we were together.”

  “Yes, we did.”

  “No, you came over, we jumped into bed, and then you went home to Matthew.”

  “We did more than that.”

  “No, we didn't, Constance.”

  “Well, that isn't my fault. You never asked me to dinner.”

  “Sure, we could have just gone to the cafe across the street from the office. Then everyone would have known about our affair.”

  “They found out anyway.”

  “I always wondered about that. We were very careful. How did Matthew learn about it?”

  “I don't know.” I lied.

  The fact was, I gave the secret away to Matthew. I had tried everything else to get him to notice me – it was like living with a ghost since my close call with the Jackal. The day before Matthew confronted me about the affair, I left my cell phone at home. I knew he would find it and bring it to me. I had deliberately left a message on it from William. I knew Matthew would see the message and listen to it, thinking that it had something to do with an FBI case. It hadn't. William loved leaving me messages. They always started with him picking one of his Take a Chance cards and then describing what he had planned for us the next time we would be together.

  William put his hand on my arm and I pulled it away.

  “You did something.”

  “I didn't do anything.”

  “Yes, you did. You sabotaged us, didn't you, Constance?”

  “No.”

  He stood up and started walking around the room.

  “Stop pacing.” I gritted my teeth and put my head in my hands. “It makes me crazy.”

  “I can't believe you deliberately made sure your husband found out about our affair,” he shouted. He stopped pacing and turned to me. “Why didn't you just stop seeing me?”

  “I did.”

  “No, you left town.”

  “It's the same thing.”

  “No, it's not. It was rude.”

  I stood up and screamed at him. “No, rude is the way you let me go and then never picked up the phone to see if I was all right.”

  “I didn't have the right to stop you.” William glared.

  “That's because you didn't care enough to stop me,” I shouted.

  “No, you set the ground rules for our affair. Don't you remember? No strings, no commitment, and when it's over, we just walk away. And besides, you were married. It wasn't my place to stop you,” William shook his head, then he looked up and I saw the pain in his eyes. “I was just the guy you used to get back at your husband.”

  That hit me as if he had slapped me. My stomach knotted up and I clasped my hands together to keep them from trembling.

  He sat down on the couch. “I was the way for you to get back at Matthew for abandoning you.”

  I sat down next to him. “You were not.”

  Silence.

  I reached over and pulled his face so that our eyes could meet. “You and me, it had nothing to do with me and Matthew.”

  “Then what was it?”

  “God, how can I explain without it sounding trite? You made me feel good about myself when I was as low as I could be. You made me laugh at myself and my ordeal. You were the rock that kept me from going crazy.”

  He looked at me, as his eyes filled with tears. “Then why did you leave?

  “My mom was sick and my dad needed me.”

  “Why didn't you call me and tell me what was going on?”

  “You were out of town. Someone in your family needed something and I couldn't remember who it was or where you'd gone.”

  “That doesn't surprise me. You never listened. But you could have called my cell phone. It's always on. Why didn't you take a minute to pick up the phone and call?”

  “I don't know.” I shrugged. It was an honest answer. Maybe the first I had given in a long time.

  “Don't you think I deserved that?”

  I nodded. My eyes filled with tears and I lowered my head.

  “Then why didn't you at least call me and say goodbye?”

  “I'm not good at goodbyes,” I replied without looking up.

  William stroked the side of my cheek, then lifted my chin up. “How are you at hellos?”

  “What?”

  William stood and pulled me to my feet. He pushed my hair behind my ears and cupped my face in his hands. “Hello, Constance.” His smile lit up his face and his green eyes glistened.

  “Hello, William.” I met his smile with one of my own.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Are you ready for a board game? I don’t have my Take a Chance cards with me but I remember some of them.”

  I laughed.

  He leaned in and kissed me. It sent chills all the way down to my toes. But oh, it felt so good.

  “Here or in your bed?” he whispered into my ear.

  I knew what he wanted. But did I want to get on this roller coaster again? Oh yes, I did. But was it the smart thing to do? What about what he had said? Was he right about us? About the reason I had gone to him. Had I been so selfish? Had I merely used him?

  He kissed my neck lightly. “Don't think, Constance.”

  “But…” I tried to speak, but my legs almost collapsed when he slid his hands under my t-shirt.

  He repeated his question, “Here or in your room?”

  I stepped away from him. His hands slid out from under my t-shirt and stopped on my hips. “I'm sorry, William.”

  He frowned and a look of confusion covered his face. “Are you sure, Constance?”

  “Yes,” I said, although my mind screamed no and my body was on fire from his touch.

  “Okay.” William let go of me and took another step back. “Do you want to just talk?”

  Oh my, I sighed. Tall, tanned, gorgeous and he had a sensitive side. I needed him to leave or I would make another mistake. I didn't love him. He was right, I had used him and you don't use the people you truly care about. “No. It's okay. Goodbye, William.”

  “Goodbye, Constance.” William shrugged and walked out of my house. He quietly closed the door behind him.

  I leaned against the door. The ache in my heart was immense, like I had been stabbed all over again. The reasons I gave him, the reasons I had let him envelope me in his arms all those months - they were true.

  But his were truer. I never asked about his family because they hadn't been significant. He hadn't really been important; I had used him. I put my head in my hands and the tears fell down my cheeks.

  I took advantage of him to make myself feel again, to feel alive and wanted. And to hurt Matthew the way he wounded me, deep down in my heart and soul. I slid down the back of the door and collapsed on the floor. The pain encased my entire body as I trembled and wept, for the loss of William, my husband, my dad, my grandma and finally, for the child that never had a chance to be.

  Chapter 26

  I cried for a long time, releasing years of hurt that I had buried. Finally, I was exhausted and spent. Cheezy came over and sat in front of me. She meowed.

  “I know. I'm acting like an idiot,” I said to her.

  She meowed again.

  “Stop badgering me. I'm getting up.” And I did.

  After a hot shower, I changed into a pair of pajama bottoms and one of my dad's old t-shirts. I missed him and needed to be close to him. When I crawled into bed, the tears started all over again.

  I sat up. This was ridiculous. Would I keep crying until I'd made up for the tears I hadn't shed? I wiped my eyes with the sheet and got up.

  The running shoes went on quickly before I could change my mind. I scrambled out the front door, down my street, through the center of town, past the cafe, the station, pizza parlor, and all the way to the front gate of my grandpa's property. My heart pounded, the muscles in my legs were on fire, and I couldn't breathe. It felt good but there was no way I would be able to run home. I opened the gate and walked up the driveway.

  The house was dark except for a small light flicke
ring from the living room. He loved old westerns and I was sure that he lounged in his leather La-Z-Boy rocker, drinking a beer, and enjoying a John Wayne movie.

  I knocked.

  “Go away, it's too late for visitors,” he yelled.

  I knocked again.

  “I said GO AWAY!” he shouted louder.

  I knocked again and smiled.

  “I've got a gun and I will put a bullet in your head if you don't leave now!” he screamed.

  I knocked again and leaned against the porch railing. It was amazing how aggravating him made me feel so much better.

  He threw the door wide and opened his mouth. I was ready for a stream of obscenities a mile long. Then he stopped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Can't a granddaughter visit her grandpa?”

  His eyebrows furrowed and he looked over my shoulder. “How'd you get here? I didn't hear your car.”

  “I ran.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “It's ten miles from your house to mine.”

  “That's why I knocked. I'm too tired to run home.”

  He glared at me, stepped back inside and held the door. “Come on in. I'll get you a beer.”

  “Thanks.” I stepped inside and sat down in his leather rocker. I sank down a foot. It was like sitting on a pile of clouds.

  Grandpa came in with a six-pack of beer and looked down at me. “You might be my favorite granddaughter, but I don't share my chair.”

  I got up and moved to the slightly less comfortable corduroy rocker.

  Grandpa handed me a beer and sat down.

  I took a long swig.

  He muted the television set and then stared at me. “You need to talk? Or can we watch the movie?”

  I nodded toward the TV. “The movie's fine.”

  “Good.” He un-muted the TV and returned his attention to the screen.

  I had seen it before. The Sons of Katie Elder was a good movie and I had come in about a third of the way through. We never spoke, just watched the movie and drank beer.

  When it was over, he glanced over at me. “Do you want to watch another?”

  “No.”

  “Do you need to talk to me?” he asked.

  The pain and fear on his face was obvious. He was trying but was also afraid I actually wanted a heart-to-heart talk with him. He would be more comfortable if I told him I wanted him to go out and shoot someone.

  “No. I'm okay.”

  Relief swept over his face and he smiled. “Are you going to run home?”

  “No, can I borrow a car?”

  He grinned. “I got the Jeep running today.”

  “Perfect.”

  He walked me to the door, took a set of keys off of a hook, and handed them to me. “Second gear sticks a little bit.”

  “Thanks.”

  Grandpa stepped forward, hesitated, and then gave me a tentative hug. “Are you sure you're okay?”

  “I'm fine.”

  “Great.”

  It was after one when I got home. I was exhausted but felt a peace I hadn't known in a long time. I had finally rid myself of a weight I had carried on my heart for many years. Sleep came quickly and was very restful.

  In the morning I felt energized, ready to take on the day and whatever it threw my way. I dressed in my uniform. It was good to have it on again. There was nothing subtle about it - it screamed power, just the way it should. So much better than the clothes I had worn as an agent in the FBI, reserved on the outside, hiding a concealed weapon underneath.

  I gave Cheezy an entire can of tuna for breakfast, then I drove to the Get Away Diner for my own. As I went through the front door, Ron waved to me. “Good morning, Chief.”

  “Morning, Ron. What's Erma cooking for breakfast today?”

  “She's got another specialty. Are you ready to be a guinea pig?”

  “Bring it on.” I felt adventurous.

  “Great.” He disappeared through the swinging doors into the kitchen.

  I helped myself to a cup of coffee and sat down in one of the front booths, by the window. Not being able to see either the front or back door made me very nervous, but it was time for a change in my life. And even little things were a step in the right direction.

  Ron came out and started toward my usual table, then stopped, turned, and brought me my plate. “Trying to confuse me, Chief?”

  “No, I just thought I'd try a new perspective.”

  “Okay,” he said, then handed me a plate. “This is a chicken and rosemary frittata with some fresh fruit on the side.”

  “It looks great, Ron.” I held the plate up to my nose. “And smells good too.”

  “It's not as spicy as our last special. We are calling this Erma's Chickymush Frittata.”

  "Why do you keep naming these dishes with weird names?" I asked.

  Ron smiled and shrugged. "It helps me remember our vacation. If I just called it Chicken and Mushroom Frittata, it would be boring and I wouldn't remember the great time I had on our trip."

  "Well, Doc might not be happy that Erma's new dish isn't spicy but I go for the milder stuff.” I wanted to make some changes in my life, but spicy food gave me indigestion. I smiled and set the plate down. My fork slipped right through the frittata. I took a small bite. Besides the eggs and chicken, there were mushrooms. After the next bite, I raised my fork to Ron who stood next to my table. “Tell Erma she's got another winner.”

  “I knew you'd like it.” Ron smiled and winked. “It's all those mushrooms. I know they're your favorite.”

  “I love a man who knows what I like.” My smile broadened. “Let me know if you ever get a speeding ticket, I'd be happy to fix it for you.”

  He laughed. “Could I have that in writing? You're such a stickler for the rules that I want to get your signature down before you change your mind.”

  I pulled over a napkin, took out a pen from my pocket and wrote: one free speeding ticket. I signed the napkin and handed it to Ron.

  He folded it and tucked it into the pocket of his white shirt. Then he frowned. “Are you okay, Chief?”

  “I'm fine.”

  He shook his head. “New place to sit and now a free pass? What's up with you?”

  “Just making a few changes in my life,” I told him.

  “Don't make too many. I like you the way you are.”

  I gave him a big smile. “Thanks, Ron.”

  He nodded and went back into the kitchen.

  Doc came in a few minutes later. He sat down at my table. “Why are we by a window? We never sit by a window. We leave them for the tourists.”

  “I want to look out the window at the day.”

  He scowled his eyes at me. “Since when?”

  “Since right now.” Before he could say anything else, I added, “I think I'd like to try those new scar treatments.”

  His eyes widened. “You would?”

  “Yes.”

  “Great. Call the office and we'll set up an appointment. What made you decide to do it? You seemed dead set against it last time I mentioned it.”

  “Change is good.”

  He frowned. “What's with you today?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh yeah, there's something different about you.”

  “It's just time to make some changes in my life.” And I quickly changed the subject. “Did you hear that the forensic anthropologist has some bones left over?”

  “Yeah, Bob told me about it last night.” Doc straightened the collar on the white lab coat that he wore over his khaki slacks and bright purple polo shirt and grinned.

  “At the late night poker game?” I asked.

  “Yes, and I actually won a few bucks.”

  “That's great. I'm glad to hear the town crier is doing his job.”

  Doc smiled. “He does keep us all in the loop, doesn't he?”

  We both laughed and Ron brought Doc the special.

  “How are you feeling Ron?” Doc asked as the plate was set on the table.

&
nbsp; “Better,” Ron said.

  “You were sick?” I asked.

  “Just my allergies acting up. I took a few days off but I feel great again.” He turned to Doc. “Thanks for the allergy medication. It worked wonders.”

  “You’re welcome.” Doc held up the plate and sniffed it. “What state do I have to thank for Erma’s newest creation?”

  “Oklahoma. It's probably not spicy enough for you but it's really good.”

  Doc looked over at my half-eaten plate. “The chief's eating like it's her first meal in days, so I'm sure I'll enjoy it.”

  He set the plate down, scooped up a big forkful, and put it in his mouth. Then he smiled. “It's fabulous, melts in your mouth. The rosemary gives it a good flavor.” He shook his head back and forth. “Hm, hm, hm. I like it.”

  “That's two good reviews. No restaurant could ask for better.” Ron smiled and left to escort a tourist to a table.

  “God,” Doc moaned. “What did we do before Ron and Erma opened up this eatery?”

  “Starved?” I asked, as I cleaned up the last few bites of the frittata.

  “No, but we did eat some lousy food.”

  I laughed and started on my cinnamon apples. They were sugary and probably a million calories. Who cared? Not me.

  Between bites, Doc reminded me, “So you were saying about the leftover bones?”

  “Yes. Dr. Cain, the forensic anthropologist from the university, thinks we have two adolescent females.”

  “Like we thought in the beginning?”

  “Yes.”

  “Didn't you look for any missing girls, then?”

  I nodded. “We didn't find any so I had the skulls sent to a forensic artist. If we can get a picture of the two girls, then we can get them to the press and see if they're runaways from another town.”

  Ron came over, refilled our coffee cups, and set down our bills, just as Doc's cell phone rang. He answered it, nodded, and said, “I'm on my way.” He stood.

  “An emergency?”

  “No, it's just Mrs. Towers. She isn't due for a couple of weeks, but is having a few contractions and screaming her head off in my office.”

  I patted him on the arm. “Give her some good drugs.”

  He raised his eyebrows at me. “Drugs? This from the queen of 'I won't take any of your stupid drugs!'”

  “Told you I was changing.”