A Scarlet Cord (19 page)

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Authors: Deborah Raney

BOOK: A Scarlet Cord
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“No. That’s just it … He
wouldn’t
do this. You don’t understand. Something is wrong. Something is terribly wrong. There has to be a reason. There has to be an explanation.”

“Then, why didn’t he give you one? Is he … Do you think there’s someone else, Mel?”

“No! Of course not.” In her confusion, she had actually considered the possibility, but she’d put it out of her mind immediately. She smoothed the letter out again and read parts of it to Matt. Hearing the words aloud hurt more than she thought she could bear.

“This is just plain weird,” Matthew said when she’d finished. “Something is very wrong here. This guy sounds heartless.”

“No, Matthew!” She felt compelled to defend Joel against the thoughts she suspected were going through her brother’s mind. “You never met him, or you’d know that Joel isn’t cruel. He would never do anything to hurt us unless … unless there was a good reason.”

“I’m having trouble thinking of a good reason. Can you think of anything … any reason … anything at all?”

“I can’t, Matt. I’m … I’m at a loss. Joel didn’t talk much about … his past, but nothing he ever said gave me any reason to think he was anything but good and honest.”

“Do you want us to come?” Matt’s tone softened. “Karly’s telling me our tickets are open-ended. We can come now since … well, since the wedding is … called off. Do you want us to come?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed and combed her fingers through her hair. “Let me think about it. Maybe you could help me find him, help me find out what happened … I just don’t even know where to start.”

“You can’t go looking for him. You have no idea where he might be or what kind of trouble he might be in. I don’t like the sound of this at all, Melanie. We don’t know what you’re messing with here.”

“That’s just it! Maybe he
is
in some kind of trouble. Maybe he needs me.”

“Melanie, promise me you won’t do anything until I get there.”

“You’re coming, then?”

“I’ll be on the next plane to St. Louis,” he told her. “And I’ll call Mom and Dad and tell them what’s happened. Do you want them to come too?”

Melanie sagged. She hadn’t thought of her parents yet. They would be devastated. “No, Matt. No. Not yet. Not until we know what’s going on. There’s nothing they could do anyway. They’d just worry. I don’t want Dad getting upset … His heart …”

“So you don’t want me to call them at all?”

“Yes … No … I’m sorry … I don’t know what to say.” She felt on the edge of panic and knew she wasn’t making sense. “Yes. Call them. Please. But just … tell them the engagement is off. Don’t tell them Joel is gone. And tell them
not
to come. I’ll … I’ll call them later.”

“Okay.” Matt was silent on his end, and Melanie could tell that he was trying to gauge her emotional state. She must sound like a raving maniac.

“I’ll be okay, Matt.” She tried to put conviction in her tone.

“I know. I know you will. We’ll be praying for you.”

“Thank you, Matt. Tell Karly I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“I will.” He took charge now, his voice assuming the authoritative tone of the attorney he was. “I’ll be there as soon as I can arrange a flight. I’ll get a car at the airport. I’ll call you and let you know what time to expect me. You just hang tight and wait for me to get there, okay?”

“Okay,” she squeaked. She hung up and slumped to the floor, flinging up a jumbled prayer for her parents. Her father was in fragile health, and her mother had enough to worry about just looking after Dad.

She heard the video blaring in the family room, and her mind ricocheted to Jerica. She couldn’t tell Jerica about Joel. Not yet. Maybe this was some huge misunderstanding, and it would all be worked out by tomorrow. Maybe she would never have to tell her daughter anything. Maybe tomorrow everything would be clear. Joel would come back, and they could pretend none of this had ever happened, pick up where they left off.

She struggled to her feet and went into the family room. Jerica had fallen asleep in front of the television. Melanie scooped the little girl up and carried her into her bedroom, took off her shoes, and tucked her under the covers still dressed in jeans and sweatshirt.

The phone rang, and she ran across the hall to her bedroom and grabbed the receiver. “Hello?”

“Melanie?” It was Jerry.

“Hi, Jerry.”

His voice was tight. “Mel, I just got a call from Don Steele. Joel didn’t come into the office today … and then Don found a strange note from Joel in his desk drawer. And Joel’s paycheck was gone … It’s been cashed. Have you seen him? Do you know what’s going on?”

“Don got a letter? What did it say? Oh, Jerry, I got one too.” The words came out like lead.

“What is going on?” he repeated.

“I—I’m not sure, Jerry. All I know is that Joel said he had to … to go away. Oh, Jerry,” she sobbed. “He broke off our engagement. What am I going to tell Jerica?” She fell apart now.

“Oh, dear Lord. Are you okay, honey?”

“No … I’m not okay,” she choked.

“We’ll be right over.” The line went dead.

Fifteen minutes later, Jerry and Erika were sitting in Melanie’s living room trying to make sense of a senseless letter.

The LaSalles sounded as worried as Melanie was. “Could he have been in some kind of trouble with the law?” Jerry asked.

“No! Of course not.”

“Did he have a problem with an addiction or—”

“Erika, he never had so much as a glass of wine as long as I knew him. He didn’t even like to take an aspirin.”

“Well, what else could it possibly be?” Erika said. “Do you think maybe he was sick? Maybe he found out he had some … disease or something, and he didn’t want you to have to go through losing another husband?”

She hadn’t considered this possibility, but if it was true, it made her angry. Her voice rose a pitch. “Well, then he was pretty stupid to think this was a way to spare me the grief!” She took a deep, shuddering breath and willed herself to calm down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

It helped just to be sitting here with people who loved her.

In her mind, Melanie replayed every conversation she and Joel had ever had, desperate for anything that would give her a clue to his behavior. A sickening feeling came over her when she remembered how pale he’d looked the night of the Addys. And how he’d left her office feeling ill the day they’d stayed in and eaten the instant soup. Maybe he
had
been covering up a serious illness, as Erika suggested.

But why would Joel leave her when he, of all people, understood what it was like to lose someone he loved? Suddenly it struck her that perhaps that was the answer. Maybe Joel saw himself as some kind of jinx. Maybe his motivation for leaving was about his fears of losing her, the way he’d lost his mother and father … and Tori. It was irrational, and yet somehow the thought offered a measure of comfort.

Another thought came to her, and she turned to Jerry. “Would Pastor Steele have an old address for Joel? Or maybe Tim’s address?”

“Tim?”

“Joel’s brother.”

“Oh yes. I don’t know if Don would keep those on file or not, but it’s worth a try.”

Jerry went to the phone and explained to their pastor what had happened from Melanie’s end. Melanie heard him tell Don Steele that he intended to go to Joel’s apartment and see what he could find there. But Melanie knew in her heart that they would find nothing. Joel was gone. Somehow, she knew it.

Melanie turned to Erika. “Thank you for being here for me, Erika. You don’t know how much that means.”

“I’m just so sorry this happened, Melanie. It’s all so strange.”

“Would you … mind staying here with Jerica for a little while? I’d like to get out of the house for a little bit. I need to think this all through and—” Her throat closed up, and she couldn’t finish.

“Are you sure you should be alone, Mel?” Erika asked, squeezing her shoulder lightly.

“I just need a few minutes to myself. I’ll be okay.”

Erika looked to Jerry, as though asking his permission to allow Melanie to leave. “You go,” she said. “We’ll answer the phone and make sure Jerica’s safe.”

“Please don’t tell her what happened. If she wakes up, don’t tell her anything yet.”

“We won’t say anything. But you be careful, Melanie. You’re upset … Don’t have an accident.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Seventeen

A light rain had started to fall. Melanie drove over wet streets to the east end of town and pulled into the parking lot at Joel’s apartment. As she’d known it would be, the numbered space in front of his building, where his Taurus usually sat, was empty. She eased her car into the space and sat looking up through the windshield. His kitchen window, where he’d always kept a tiny lamp burning, was a gaping black hole. The wind chimes that had swayed musically from the eaves over his deck—her birthday gift to him—were gone too.

Somehow, none of this surprised her. She found things as she had expected to find them. Empty and void of any sign that Joel had ever been in Silver Creek, had ever been in her life.

Feeling numb, she backed out of the lot, and as though on automatic pilot, she drove out of town, turning off on the country road that led to the old stone church where Joel had taken her the day he’d asked her to marry him. Easing into the overgrown drive, she saw the sturdy steeple silhouetted against a darkening sky. It comforted her somehow. She shut off the ignition and sat there in the car with the muffled sound of the rain outside a background for her thoughts.

She replayed every moment of her blossoming romance with Joel. She thought of the way she had always teased him about his Eastern accent. Oh, how she’d come to love that low, masculine voice. She could almost hear it in her ear now as he whispered words
of love to her. She remembered the affection and devotion reflected in his eyes as he explained some mystery of nature to Jerica.

The tears came, and she choked out the words that had played over and over in her mind since she had received Joel’s letter. Words that she had not yet spoken aloud. Words that she had not yet translated to prayer. “Oh, dear God. Why did you let me love him when you knew this would happen? Why did you let him love me? Why, God? Why? Oh, Joel … I love you. I love you, and I didn’t even get to say good-bye.”

She wept and railed and finally poured out her heart to her heavenly Father in a way she hadn’t since the morning she had held Rick in her arms and watched helplessly as he took his last breath. And though she didn’t understand the whys, she discovered that she was not angry with God. Instead, she felt sheltered in his arms, surrounded by a tentative peace.

She sat that way for half an hour, and finally, she wiped her tears and turned the key in the ignition. The motor purred, and Melanie maneuvered the car onto the muddy road and turned toward home.

There had to be a reason why Joel had done what he’d done. And somehow, she would discover what it was. If it took the rest of her life, she would search until she found an explanation. Because she wasn’t sure she could live not knowing.

The blare of an unfamiliar alarm clock jarred Joel awake. He rolled over in the narrow hotel bed and fumbled blindly with the buttons until the noise stopped.

He stretched and swung his legs off the side of the bed. Immediately, the news he had received yesterday was foremost in his thoughts. It was almost more than he could process.

Last night he had sat in this dingy room for hours, head in his hands, thinking about what he would do now, contemplating all that
the years had stolen from him. Somehow it seemed that if he could start at the beginning, he could untangle the knots. Now, for the millionth time, his mind traveled back to the day Victoria had died and the nightmarish revelations that had followed.

He’d spent most of that morning in the hospital, having his face stitched up. Absently, he ran a finger over the welt of the scar. Another secret he had kept from Melanie for too long.

He shook off the image of Melanie, but it was replaced by one more disturbing: the house that Victoria had lived in, alight with flames.

He had felt nothing while they closed the gash, putting more than a dozen stitches into his cheek. The shock of Tori’s death—especially coming on the heels of the murder they had witnessed the night before—was all the anesthetic he’d needed to numb the pain.

He had felt nothing later when he went home to an empty house and tried to absorb the reality that she was gone. He had not even been allowed to view her body, to prove to himself that it was true. The authorities assured him that Tori had died quickly of smoke inhalation. But by the time firefighters had reached her, the flames had done their cruel work, and Victoria Payne’s casket had remained forever closed.

But he had not laid eyes on even that final symbol of Tori’s short life. For U.S. Inspector John Toliver had appeared on his doorstep that evening, much as he had yesterday. Toliver delivered overwhelming and gruesome news: The body of a man had washed up on a New Jersey shore that morning. It had seemed insignificant—an unfortunate drunk, a sailing casualty perhaps. But the bullet holes they discovered in the man’s head boded something more sinister. And then, very quickly, the dead man was matched to the description of a waiter reported missing just hours after he had witnessed the execution-style murder of a reputed drug lord in Ciao!, a posh New York restaurant.

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