Read As Darkness Gathers (Dark Betrayals Book 2) Online
Authors: Emma Elliot
“No, I just came by to pick up my things and see how you’re doing.”
I was suddenly impatient with his niceties. “I survived a plane crash that should have killed everyone and did take the life of a good friend of mine. How do you think I am?”
His voice was calm as he said, “I heard. I received your brother’s messages as well. Edgar’s funeral is tomorrow?”
“Yes. Visitation is tonight at six. The funeral is in the morning.”
He stood in the middle of the living room, waiting.
I rubbed my forehead and fought the urge to yell at him. “You don’t have much here, but I’ll get you a box.”
I found one in my utility closet and handed it to him.
He avoided touching me as he accepted the box and then collected some toiletries from the bathroom and a few shirts and slacks from the closet. “You didn’t have anything but shampoo at my place,” he said.
“I don’t need that back.” I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry that things ended this way, Jeremy.”
He avoided my gaze, and his nod was curt. “I am as well. I was devastated when I heard your flight had gone down.”
I swallowed. “Do you think you could come to forgive me?”
His smile was sad. “There’s nothing to forgive. You came to the conclusion I’m not the right man for you, and I know you well enough that nothing I say or do will sway you.”
My throat tightened. “You deserve someone who can love you better than I ever could.”
His humorless laugh made me wince. “And I hope you’re able to find a man who loves you half as much as I do.”
I stood staring at the door long after he’d closed it quietly behind him on his way out.
Clay called as I was walking out the door to attend Edgar’s visitation.
“Bad time?” he asked.
“No,” I said, pulling the hood up on my coat to shield my hair and ears from the vicious wind. I glanced around, but there was no one lurking about to shove a microphone in my face. “I just won’t be able to talk long.” I told him of the arrangements for the evening.
“Wish I could be there. We’re lucky he was the one flying the plane. I doubt most pilots would have been able to land in a situation like that without more casualties.”
“He’d been flying for over forty years. He was an incredible pilot. And a really great man. He—” I stopped with the key in the car lock. “Oh, no.”
“What’s wrong?”
“My tire’s flat. It must have picked up a nail when my dad and Darcy brought it over from the airport this morning.” I glanced at the rear tire on the driver’s side and frowned then pocketed my keys and made a slow circuit around the vehicle.
“Do you have a spare?” he asked.
I stared in disbelief. “All of them are flat, Clay.”
“All four tires?”
“Yeah.”
“They don’t all go flat at once,” Clay said, his voice sharp. “Check them. Have they all been punctured?”
I examined each one. “They all have holes in them. Like someone took a knife and . . . I don’t understand. Someone slashed my tires?”
“Sounds that way.”
I looked around, chilled and ill at ease. The parking lot was empty.
“Go back inside and lock the door. Then call your father.”
I tried not to run on the icy sidewalk, but my steps were hurried and I kept looking over my shoulder. “Why would anyone do something like that?”
“I don’t know, but I suggest you call the police.”
“The police?” Even as I rushed inside and secured all three deadbolts I tried to laugh, but it came out shaky. “I’m sure it’s just a harmless prank. Some people from a news station were here earlier. They might have been irritated since I wouldn’t give them a statement.”
“Slashing your tires is a threat. The press should know better, and if they don’t, they need a visit from the police. Are you inside with the door locked?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now hang up the phone and call your father, and don’t go back outside until he gets there. Understand?”
I nodded though he couldn’t see me. “I won’t. You’re scaring me.”
“I don’t mean to, but slashed tires are not something to laugh off.”
When I called my father, he agreed with Clay, and he and my mother drove straight to my apartment.
“We were almost to the funeral home. We were about to turn our phones on silent,” my mother said as I slid into the backseat. “I thought this neighborhood was safe.”
“It is, Mama. You’ve been around and seen it’s mainly families in the area. I’ve never heard of anyone having any trouble. It’s probably just a stupid teenage prank.”
“I think we should call the police, Finch.”
“I’d like to pay my respects to Vera first, Daddy.”
“Then afterward we’ll go by the police station and see about filling out a report.”
The funeral home was inundated with people wanting to extend their condolences to Edgar’s family and several security guards hired to keep the press from sneaking into the visitation service.
When I made it through the crowd to Vera’s side, she stood and enveloped me in her arms.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
Her face was pale and her eyes swollen, but her smile was genuine. “Just taking it one day at a time.” She gestured at the milling people. “He would have treated this like a party. Broken out the beer and told ridiculous jokes.”
I touched the smooth, dark wood of his closed casket. “He was well loved.”
“And he adored you, Finch.” She patted my cheek. “He would have been so proud of what you did in those woods.”
I wanted to protest that I hadn’t done anything, but she shifted to sit back down and I grasped her arm as she lowered herself into the chair, favoring her left hip. “Please call me if you need anything,” I said.
“I’ll need you to come over for dinner soon.”
I smiled. “I’d like that.”
An older woman bent to hug her, so I stroked a hand along the edge of Edgar’s casket and stepped out of the way. An arm linked with mine, and Sydney tugged me to a quiet corner of the room.
Julia was there waiting. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago. We were starting to worry.”
I explained what happened, and their eyes widened.
“You’re joking,” Sydney said.
“I wish I were. Tires are not cheap to replace. And it was really unsettling.”
“I’m sure,” Sydney said. “Stupid kids these days.”
I nodded but was distracted when I caught sight of Jeremy kneeling in front of Vera.
I blinked. “You don’t think . . .”
Julia narrowed her eyes as she stared at him. “I wouldn’t think he has the stones for it, but I guess you never know. It was cowardly and juvenile, whoever did it.”
“Jeremy?” Sydney asked, her voice squeaking. “Finch, no. He wouldn’t.”
“I wouldn’t think so, but he was there right around the time.”
“So was I, but you don’t think I did it.”
I laughed, but the unease wouldn’t leave me. “No, you’re right. It could have been anyone.”
The policewoman reiterated my words as I filled out a report. “Unfortunately, since there’s no surveillance system at your apartment complex, we have no way of knowing who the perp was. There’s not much we can do at this point. Yours was the only car that was vandalized?”
“As far as I know.”
She nodded. Her long red hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and her pale green eyes were kind. “If there are more complaints of the same, we could send a patrol car by on its route, but since it’s only one incident . . .”
“I understand.”
“Just be on your guard, aware of your surroundings. Wouldn’t hurt to get mace or a Taser. Try not to be out later than is necessary, and don’t linger in or around your car in the parking lot, especially at night. We’ll put in a call to the news station that was at your place, but I’m sure it was a bored kid. I know how alarming it must have been.”
I shook her hand and hooked my purse strap higher over my shoulder. “I appreciate your help.”
“I’m sorry we’re not able to do more. If anything else happens, don’t hesitate to dial 911.”
My shiver as I exited the police station had nothing to do with the cold.
Chapter Eight
The funeral the next day was quiet, and multiple security guards from the airport had volunteered to keep the press out. The reverend who presided over the service was Edgar’s brother, so as tales were told, the tears were interspersed with laughter. I thought Edgar would have approved.
My car had been towed to the mechanic to replace the tires, and after the funeral, Darcy drove me to the repair shop.
“About the money I asked you for,” Darcy said, interrupting the silence.
I’d been staring out the window at the plowed snowdrifts, but I turned to him. “Are you going to tell me why you need that much money? Is it school bills?”
“No, it’s not that.” He glanced at me when he braked for a red light then focused once more on the road. “It’s for a friend.”
“A friend? What does your friend need fifteen hundred dollars for, and why can he not get it himself?”
“She.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“My friend is a girl.”
“Is she pregnant?”
“What? What, you mean is the money for an abortion? No. And fifteen hundred for an abortion is steep.”
“I don’t know, I’ve never priced one.” I studied him. “That’s the only explanation you’re going to give me? That it’s for a friend of yours who happens to be female?”
He pulled into the parking lot in front of the auto shop and hung his head. “I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
I unbuckled my seatbelt and dragged a hand through my hair. “Does this have anything to do with why you smelled like marijuana the other day?”
His gaze flew to mine and then away.
“I see. Darcy, I love you.”
“Ah, come
on
, Finch.”
I raised a hand to silence him. “You know you’ve always been able to come to me with any trouble you have. But since you won’t tell me anything, I feel that, in this instance, giving you the money would be enabling you. Enabling what, I don’t know. So unless you can give me a better answer, I have to say no.”
His jaw worked and his lips compressed into a thin line.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “You know I—”
“Forget I asked,” he said, his voice tight.
“Darcy—”
“I’m going to be late for my study group.”
I sighed, collected my purse from the floorboard, and opened the door, a cold blast of wind setting the cheeseburger wrappers in the backseat into a whirlwind. “I appreciate the lift.”
“Yeah, don’t mention it.”
His tires squealed as he pulled back onto the road, and I stared after him until he turned the corner and disappeared from sight.