Authors: Chantel Rhondeau
Tags: #Mystery, #love, #Romantic Suspense, #framed for murder, #lake, #romance
His cell phone buzzed inside his pocket. Max wiped grease off his hand on the cleanest towel he could find and pulled it out. Julie’s number showed on the caller ID. “Everything okay?” he answered.
“Hello to you too.” She giggled. “I’m fine, just checking in.”
“Jimmy’s still staying away?” It was their routine every day. So far, Jimmy hadn’t shown up on Julie’s doorstep since Max talked to him. In fact, he’d been fairly scarce around town.
“I haven’t seen him,” she replied. “I did, however, hear an interesting rumor while I was at the diner this morning.”
Interesting, huh? Max was learning to hate interesting. “What’s that?”
“Jimmy’s little posse said he’s certain you’re going to kill him next, and that’s the reason he’s been hiding out.” She laughed. No wonder she sounded so pleased today.
“I’m really not surprised. I did my best to scare him.” However, that meant Jimmy was still spreading around the idea that Max was, in fact, the killer. He wondered if people were getting tired of listening to it yet. They brought their cars to the shop for him to work on, so it looked promising.
“Well, it worked.” Julie cleared her throat. “Um, I don’t know if you want to talk about this, but there’s something else I want to tell you about that conversation this morning.”
Julie had become fairly confident and open with Max over the week, so it alarmed him slightly that she sounded out of sorts now. “You can tell me whatever you think I need to know,” he said, picking his words carefully.
“Okay. It’s just that Rose was working and overheard Jimmy’s posse talking. She got really pissed and kicked them out of Francine’s for spreading lies about you.”
Max smiled. No matter how she might fight it, Rose couldn’t stop the feelings she had for him. “Have you heard whether she’s dating anyone else?” He’d told Julie about the fight he and Rose had, but maybe her sticking up for him changed things somehow. As long as she wasn’t dating Calvin, that was.
Julie sighed. “You’re so exasperating sometimes! Why don’t you swallow your pride, tell Rose she’s right about everything, move in with her, and start making babies? Calvin’s watching Jimmy now, so you should move on with your life. Rose loves you. You don’t have to prove your innocence to her.”
Didn’t he? “But what about her mom? Ginger deserves closure, and she’s not going to accept me back into the family until she knows I’m innocent.”
“You left that night and Sage was with me. You were acquitted. Maybe that’s enough proof for Ginger to realize you’re innocent.”
How could he find out if it would be? He was fairly certain Rose hadn’t told her mom about his return. From what he could tell, most days Ginger didn’t even know what year it was or who Rose was. Rose probably wouldn’t want to upset her by telling her Sage’s accused killer was released.
“I don’t think Ginger knows I’m here,” he finally said.
A loud puff of air came over the line. Julie was losing patience. “If you think it’s so important, go see her. Tell her the truth and see what happens.”
“No.” Max shook his head and leaned against the Chevy Malibu he was supposed to be working on. “She’s too fragile for that.”
“Fine. Spend your life in unhappiness if that’s what you want. If it were me and my life, I’d crawl back to Rose and beg forgiveness, but I guess that’s just me. Talk to you tomorrow.”
The line went dead in his ear. Apparently Julie thought he was being an idiot. Maybe he was. Did proving his innocence really mean more to him than having a life with Rose? That was insane.
He pulled her name up on the phone, but hesitated before hitting send. She had expressed concern in the past about how Ginger would handle the news of Max’s release. Maybe Julie was right. He should tell Ginger himself.
If he talked to Ginger and it upset her, he’d leave quickly. But maybe he could get through to her. Let her know he didn’t kill Sage, and that he was in love with Rosemary and wanted to be with her.
The worst that could happen was he wouldn’t be allowed into Brentwood to see her. But it would be better if Rose didn’t know he was going.
Then she couldn’t stop him.
***
M
ax pulled up at Brentwood Asylum around 6:00 that evening. He didn’t know anything about the schedule for Brentwood’s patients, but hopefully Ginger wouldn’t be at dinner. He had to work later than planned when two cars showed up for an oil change right before closing time.
Walking up to the door of the asylum, Max could understand why Rose was so upset about leaving her mom in this place. The outside was rundown and in need of a fresh coat of paint. The yard was overgrown and gave Max a creepy vibe.
Shouldn’t mental patients be kept in a relaxing atmosphere? This was anything but relaxing.
Trying the front door of the complex, Max found it unlocked and walked inside. A large reception desk dominated the room, but no workers were in sight. Max searched for a call bell or something to alert someone to his presence, but found nothing. How did they keep an eye on patients with an unlocked front door and no nurse guarding it? Residents could get out anytime they wanted to.
A small giggle came from behind him. Max whirled around, expecting to see a child.
An elderly lady stood in the reception area, her hands clenched over her mouth as her eyes danced with joy. She giggled again through her fingers.
“Hi.” Max smiled at her, trying to seem open and friendly. “I wonder if you can help me?”
She giggled, but nodded her head.
“I’m looking for Ginger Spelling. Do you know where she is?”
The woman grabbed his hand, and without a word started down the hallway at a brisker pace than Max expected. Before long, she stopped at a doorway and dropped his hand, pointing to the door. She giggled, waved, and walked away.
Odd, but this must be where he could find Ginger.
Max’s palms were slick with perspiration. The last time he saw Ginger, she’d been clinging to Rose’s shoulders, sobbing. It was when they cuffed him after the judge read the verdict.
It would do him no good to stand in the hallway, however. Best to get this over with. Drying his hands on his jeans, he then knocked on the door.
“Come in.” Her voice sounded rich and warm, just as Max remembered. The inviting contrast that had been so opposite of his own mother’s. He’d loved spending time at Rose’s house. True, he wanted to be with Rose, but he also liked being with a family who treated him well and acted as though they wanted him around—for more than just the work he could do, which was what his mom always seemed to care about.
He slowly opened the door and stepped inside. “Mrs. Spelling?”
Ginger sat on a small bed, a bundled blanket cradled in her arms. “Yes?” she asked. “Is it time for the music recital?”
Her hair was snarled and tangled, worn much longer than she used to keep it. Max had never seen her less than perfectly made up, makeup done and clothes pressed. Though her voice might be the same, the disheveled woman before him looked nothing like the Ginger he remembered.
When Rose came to visit her mother every week, it must rip her heart out each time. How could she completely forgive Max until he proved without a doubt that he didn’t do it? Whoever killed Sage reduced Ginger to this.
Choking down emotions, he shook his head. “I’m not sure about a music recital, ma’am. I came to visit you.”
Ginger cocked her head to the side, the first sign of shrewdness crossing her watery gaze. “Do I know you?”
Max froze. This was a bad idea. Anything he said would only upset her. “I—I used to know you...” He shook his head and his stomach twisted with nausea. “I dated Rosemary in high school.”
“Rosemary?” Ginger laughed. “She’s only a little girl. You couldn’t have dated her.” Ginger looked around the room, confusion furrowing her brow. “I don’t know where that girl’s gotten off to. She’s never where she’s supposed to be.”
Rose had warned him that her mother now lived in a fantasy world. He’d have to be more direct.
“It’s me, Max Kensington. I know no one probably told you, but they released me from prison. They found proof I wasn’t the person who killed Sage.”
Tears welled in Ginger’s eyes, but she shook her head. “No. You’ve mistaken my family for someone else. Sage is safe and sound here in my arms.” She drew back the blanket, uncovering the face of a doll and showing it to him. “She’s just fine. She’s...” Ginger gulped audibly. Without warning, she threw the doll across the room. “No! No, no, no, no, no!”
Her screams broke his heart. Max rushed to her side. “I’m sorry, Ginger. I’m so sorry about Sage.” He wrapped his arms around her and she clung to him for a moment before shoving him away.
“
You
did this.” Her face had turned red and tears flowed freely down her cheeks. “How could you? We all loved you! You were going to be our son!” Her fists pounded against his arms and chest, wherever she could reach.
Max tried to fend her off without grabbing her. “It wasn’t me, I didn’t hurt Sage. I love you, your whole family. I’d never do that. I’m innocent.”
Ginger quit pounding on him, but buried her face in her hands. “Get out of here,” came her muffled voice.
“I wanted you to know that the cops are looking for the real killer,” he persisted. Now that he’d upset her, he might as well say what he came to say. “I’m still in love with Rose, and once the real killer is brought to justice, I want to marry her.”
Ginger dropped her hands. When she looked at him, her eyes were no longer confused. Sorrow etched itself into every stressed wrinkle on her face, and her slumped shoulders and the scowl on her lips spoke volumes about how much pain she felt. “You can’t undo the past as if it didn’t happen, Max Kensington. Sage is dead!”
“I know, and I’m sorry about that. I wish I had stayed with her that night, but she hit me when I said I didn’t love her, and then I left to find Rose.” He stared at Ginger, praying she’d sense the truth in his words, even though he’d said them to her before over eight years earlier. “I would have never hurt Sage. I loved her like a little sister. Julie Barns finally told the truth about what happened that night. Sage left with her, going to her house for a sleepover. When Julie woke up, Sage was gone and she didn’t know where she went or what happened.”
“You,” Ginger snapped. “You’re what happened. Get out of here. Leave me alone.”
“It wasn’t me,” he persisted. “I wish you could believe that. You know me, Mrs. Spelling. I didn’t do this.”
Ginger turned her head toward the wall. “Get out.” Her voice was rough and low, and she began sobbing once again.
He stood and headed for the door. “I’ll find out who really killed Sage and bring them to justice. I promise.”
Without waiting for a response, he left the room and headed to his car. Maybe he’d done more harm than good, but Ginger at least knew who he was and heard what he wanted her to know. Rose said she wasn’t always able to help her mom find reality. Unfortunately, Max had rammed it down her throat.
Maybe that meant there was a chance for her to come back, though. He just had to find the key to make her want to return to reality full time.
Finding Sage’s killer seemed like the answer. He had to do it. For Rose and for Ginger.
***
R
ose dumped Gizmo off her lap and ran for the phone. It was Brentwood’s ringtone. Something must be wrong with her mother. “Hello?” she answered breathlessly.
“Is this Rosemary Spelling?” a clipped female voice asked.
“Yes. Is my mother okay?”
“Physically,” the voice assured her. “However, she’s having a rough night and keeps asking for you. Another nurse said you’d probably visit tomorrow morning, but I was hoping you could come out now. We can’t calm her down. All she wants is you.”
Her mother never wanted her. During the rare times she wasn’t hallucinating the doll as her baby, she always wanted Sage. “I’ll be right there.”
Rose slipped on shoes and raced out the door. She floored the truck’s pedal all the way on the curvy road around the lake, making it to Brentwood in record time. Racing up the front walkway, she barged into the hall and headed directly for her mother’s room.
For the first time ever, a nurse was inside tending her mother. Ginger was pacing the room, pushing the nurse away any time she went near. “Get me my daughter. I want Rosemary.”
“Mom?” Rose stepped inside and crossed to her. “Mom, I’m here. What happened?”
“Rose?” Ginger turned around. Her face crumbled when their eyes met and she started weeping. “I saw Max.”
What? This didn’t make any sense. For the first time in a long time, her mother was completely lucid it seemed, but where would she have seen Max?
“I meant to tell you he was released, Mom, but it’s so hard sometimes to talk with you about that stuff.”
“It’s true, then? He’s free?” Ginger sank onto her bed, covering her eyes with one hand as though she had a headache. “Why? Why would they let him out?”
Rose perched on the edge of the bed, taking Ginger’s free hand. “Because he didn’t do it. They had the wrong man.”
Ginger snatched her hand back. “No they didn’t. Don’t go near that boy, Rosemary. He’s dangerous.”
Damn it. Ginger being lucid obviously didn’t mean she’d be ready to forgive Max, no matter how sure Rose herself was of his innocence. Not that it might matter in the long run what Ginger thought about it. It was hard to know how long mental clarity on her mother’s part would last. She could forget by tomorrow seeing Max with the way things had been for her the past five years.
Suddenly, Ginger reached out, grabbing Rose’s hand in a tight, nearly painful grip. “Promise me,” she said, a note of warning in her voice that Rose remembered from childhood. “Promise me you’ll stay away from that boy.”
Rose knew she should just promise and give her mom reassurance, but she didn’t want to lie. “I still love him, Mom. He’s obsessed with finding the real killer so we can be together, but all I want is to be with him, even if the killer is never found.”
Ginger’s lips pressed together tightly and she sniffed loudly. “You’d let him ruin your life yet again? Fine.” She leaned away from Rose and picked up the doll sitting on the floor by her feet. Ginger carefully swaddled it and pressed the bundle to her chest. She turned to the nurse, not looking at Rose again. “Sage and I are tired. I don’t want any more visitors today.”