Freeing Reese (Tremont Lodge Series Book 3) (9 page)

“I can’t believe you couldn’t at least have sent me a text about your engagement,” says Tinley as she paces Finn’s room at the hospital. “I mean, aren’t I your best friend?” She sticks out her bottom lip. It only makes me laugh.

“I think we had some more urgent business to attend to, Tinley,” I say. I sit on Finn’s bed, careful not to bump his bandaged arm and hold his hand.

“Well, fine, I’ll give you a pass but know that you better invite me to go dress shopping or you will never hear the end of it. Got it?”

“Aye, aye, Captain Tinley.” I salute her which brings on the subtlest of smiles. “And don’t worry. I promise not to steal any of your ideas.”

“As if that would remotely happen,” she says in a fit of giggles.

“Come on, Tinley. Let’s grab a bite in the cafeteria,” says Murphy, putting his arm around her shoulders and leading her from the room.

“The
cafeteria?
A hospital
cafeteria?”

“Fine, fine. We’ll find a deli or something. I’m starving, and Finn needs his rest.”

“You’re right, sweetie. Every once in a while you can be the sensible one in the relationship.” She kisses him on the cheek and waves
goodbye
to Finn and me.

“Hey, Tinley, I know you guys are heading back to California tomorrow. Maybe we can have an early breakfast before you have to leave for the airport. I can’t wait to see the designer sketches you’ve created for your wedding dresses.”

“Oh, yes. Meet me at 7:00 in the Winter Haven Restaurant, and don’t be late. Our airport shuttle comes at 8:30.”

When she is gone, Finn tugs on my hand and pulls me closer to his mouth so I can hear him more clearly. “Did she say
dresses
as in more than one dress?”

“She sure did.”

“Please tell me you won’t be following in her footsteps. You know we’ll be paying for this wedding on our own, and I can’t afford…”

“Stop it.” I kiss Finn’s forehead. “I could wear a dress off the discount prom rack for our wedding, and I wouldn’t care. I just want to be your wife.” This time Finn kisses me back and doesn’t stop until the nurse comes in
tsk-tsking
to give him his pain medicine.

We aren’t left alone long as Officer Kanicki and Officer Folet enter the room next. They aren’t playing
good cop/bad cop
anymore. In fact, the expressions on their faces are nothing but conciliatory. I let them speak first.

“Ms. Prentice,” says Officer Kanicki. “We would like to offer you both our apologies as well as our gratitude.”

“I understand the apology. Glad to know I’m freed from your suspicion, but what’s with the gratitude?”

Officer Folet speaks next. “That brown coffee mug that Helen grabbed off of Mr. Oakley’s nightstand was tested at the lab. Preliminary reports show arsenic. When we told her this news, she confessed to trying to poison Mr. Oakley. And Mr. Oakley gave further evidence that he’d recently found arsenic under the sink in his kitchen with the other cleaning supplies. He’d been collecting his evidence in a bag he kept at his suite. He even had a fingerprint kit he’d purchased to try to connect Helen with what was happening to him physically. This will be an easy case to convict.”

“But what was the motive?” asks Finn, sitting up in bed.

“It seems that the young Mr. Oakley’s girlfriend—”

“Georgia,” I say.

“Yes, it seems she was directed by Mr. Oakley to contact a lawyer about changing his will, and Helen had been doing some snooping around the office under the ruse of cleaning and found out that Mr. Oakley cut her out of the will, so Helen tried to cover up the new will by stealing it.”

“But she didn’t know about the will in the safe in Mr. Oakley’s office,” I say.

“She didn’t consider a lot of things, Ms. Prentice, and, again, you have our apologies for putting you through the ringer,” says Officer Kanicki. “And you wouldn’t believe the crazy things she was making up about your mother, but we know she’s desperate to say anything at this point to try to throw suspicion off of her.”

I shoot Finn a look. “Yeah, it’s crazy the things people will say.”

“Plus, it’s kind of hard to back out of a confession—and the remnants of arsenic left in the bottom of her son’s ceramic coffee mug she used to serve Mr. Oakley.”

“So, Ted’s going to be okay? The arsenic didn’t make his Parkinson’s worse?” I ask.

“From what the doctors say, Mr. Oakley may not be nearly as sick as once thought. And, no, the doctors don’t think there will be any lasting effects from the poison.”

“Thank the Lord,” I say.

“Yes, that’s great news,” says Finn.

“Yeah, and I am not at all interested in inheriting any part of the lodge right now.”

“Why’s that?” asks Ted who follows Lawson into the room as the police officers wave
goodbye.

“Uh, well, because I have a date on a cruise ship with my fiancé this spring.” I say. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” says Lawson, slapping Finn a little too hard on his good arm. “It’s one thing to play Superman going after a deranged lady with a knife, but you also managed to do something to make this girl happy? Son-of-a-bitch, you’re good, dude. Congrats.”

“Thanks, Lawson. I’ll take that as a compliment from you,” says Finn.

I hold out my ring for everyone to admire, and though it’s not nearly as large as the rock Georgia once wore on her ring finger before settling for Lawson, I’m still proud. Heck, I wouldn’t care if he’d given me a pop tab to wear.

Ted doesn’t say anything, his brow wrinkling like he’s deep in thought. “Congratulations,” he says quietly.

I look from Finn to Lawson. “What’s the matter?” I ask. “Aren’t you happy for us?”

“Yes, you certainly don’t need my blessing. I’ve been absent most of your life. It’s not that you ever need to seek my approval for anything, Reese. It’s just that I’ve grown kind of fond of you, and now…now you’re really leaving.”

“She’ll be back,” says Finn.

“What?” I ask.

“I only signed up for the spring season.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.

“I know how much Tremont Lodge means to you, Reese, and honestly, we had a blast here last summer. I can’t not sing on that stage in the middle of the chaos on the lawn. It’s kind of in my blood now, too.”

Ted puts his hand on top of Finn’s. “Finn you helped to save my life by risking your own life holding down Helen until the police got to her. You can keep singing on that stage, but I’d like you to take over the supervision of the maintenance and landscaping department if you’re interested. You’ve done a great job, and Jerry is retiring in May. The timing will be perfect. Oh, and, of course, with that comes a raise. And, Reese, if you want to keep your responsibilities as special events’ coordinator for the ballroom, the job will still be yours upon your return.”

“I don’t know what to say, Ted,” says Finn.

“Me, neither,” I say.

“You are free to make your own decision, and I will understand either way.”

I turn to Finn. “If you’re serious about staying on the ship for only the spring—if that’s what
you
really want—”

“Reese,” he takes my hand in his, “you are going to be my wife. The Tremont Lodge makes us both happy.”

“But I don’t want you to give up your music dream.”

“I know we live in the Northwoods of Michigan, but I do have a few friends in other parts of the country who might take a listen, Finn.” He turns to Lawson. “And don’t think you’re getting off the hook. Your partying days are limited. I’m going to need a right-hand man while I get my strength back. It will be a long time before the two of you take over the lodge, God willing, but that doesn’t mean you can’t learn a few things in the meantime. What do you say?”

“Yeah, I mean, yes, Ted. I’d love nothing more. But you’re okay with Georgia and me?”

“I don’t love it. She’s a very special girl, but I really should concentrate on finding someone my own age, don’t you think?” He winks at Lawson who smiles in return.

“Why are you smiling, too?” Ted asks me.

I put my arms through Ted’s and Lawson’s. “Because I like my new dysfunctional family.” Finn clears his throat. “Oh, and my new-husband-to-be.”

“When you kids are ready, I’d love to host your wedding here at Tremont Lodge—my treat.”

“Ted, you can’t do that. We couldn’t accept,” I say.

“Reese, you’re my daughter. I’ve been a crappy father. But I
want
to do this for you and Finn.”

I hug him and stay in his arms for a moment before releasing him to hug Finn. Finn kisses away the tears that fall gently down my cheeks.

The nurse comes back into the room with another round of
tsk-tsking
for the crowd that continues to grow. “We’d best be taking off now, Lawson,” says Ted. “You two take care of yourselves.”

When the nurse is done rewrapping Finn’s arm wound and steps out of the room, I curl up on his bed next to his good arm which he uses to pull me closer. “What are you thinking?” he asks, stroking my hair.

“Just that I’m lucky everything turned out the way that it did.”

“You mean that I was able to ward off Helen until the cops got there by using my superhero strength and good looks, of course?”

“Well, there’s that. Ha! And also that as convoluted and twisted as my life story was that brought me to Tremont Lodge—both times—I can’t say that I regret any of it because it brought me to you.”

“I love you, Reese.”

“I love you, too, Finn, and I can’t wait to live my future with you by my side.” I curl even closer into Finn’s body before the nurse will come back and separate us, and I close my eyes, letting the exhaustion of the last few days take over because I know that the sweetest of dreams is the reality that holds me now.

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Tremont Lodge Series

Finding Reese

Loving Reese

Freeing Reese

Young Adult books by Marcy Blesy:

To Know Me
YA Romance Series:
http://amzn.to/1yU9BWY

To Know Me

To Love Me

To Forgive Me

To Choose Me

To Know Me:
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To know me is to die...

Seventeen-year-old Mae is convinced that the consequences of her poor decisions have caused the untimely deaths of her dad, sister Laura, and grandma who all die within a year, no matter how ludicrous her thoughts seem to those she loves. The solution? Run away so no one else she cares for gets hurt (even if she has to keep a GPS tracker on her phone at all times).
Desperate to earn her diploma and salvage something of her life, she transfers schools when people get too close. After switching to Woodson Prep with only two months to go until graduation, Mae keeps her goals in sight. But when she meets Ty, the "perfect boy" with his own secrets and a relentless interest in Mae, she must decide if she can stop running from the past and still protect those she loves.

For a sneak peak, at
TO KNOW ME,
continue reading.

To know me is to die. I mean, to
really
know me, like when you know I can run for hours without so much as a water break, or that cinnamon sugar doughnuts are my weakness, or that my dad gave me a whole different name. But I don’t let people get that close. I’ve learned the hard way. Too many people die in my life. Grandma said I was only unlucky.

“It’s not your fault all those people you love die. It’s just bad luck that you’ve had to deal with grief so young. Not fair at all,” she’d said. That was right before she died on my seventeenth birthday and right after my sister Laura, my dad, and my dog Petie.

I direct Mom Number 4 toward the front door of the high school. I always get a new mom when I transfer schools. I have yet to find a school that allows a seventeen-year-old to register herself. I wanted to graduate in Ohio, but too many people started asking questions. They weren’t important questions. Just stuff like, “How come I can’t ever come over to your house?” or “Why won’t you ever talk about yourself?” or when I do, “That’s not what you told so-and-so.” I had to leave. To let people into my life isn’t an option anymore. But, there’re no worries anyone will start to ask questions here. It’s already March. That diploma is as good as mine. Then I can enroll in online college and try to salvage something of my pathetic life.

Mom 4 is a crackhead. It’s not the first time I’ve had a Mom that was a drug addict. They’re easy to find, standing on the street corner pretending not to be desperately looking for someone to give them a fix. They’re agreeable. All they want is my money. I have plenty of that. This Mom seems a little rougher around the edges than most. I had to rouse her from sleep wedged between the 7-11 and an ethnic grocery store downtown. She was curled like a ball using her own body temperature as a blanket. When I shook her a little, she started screaming. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” as she rocked back and forth. It took her a few minutes to process that I wasn’t the person she was apologizing to. Then she seemed embarrassed, even patting her hair down as if she could make herself look presentable. After a short discussion, neutral-colored concealer for the spots on her face, a brush through her hair, and a spritz of cheap cologne, Mom 4 was transformed. Right now she shakes as she reaches for the buzzer that will admit us to Woodson Prep School. I imagine she’ll get more drugs as soon as I’ve paid her.

“Wait!” I say before she pushes the button. “Take a deep breath. Remember the plan. You’ll be fine.” I look straight in her eyes. “Your name is Liza Tatum. I’m your daughter. My name is Mae. I’m a senior, straight-A student. I need to be put on the college track. Okay? That’s very important.” She shakes her head
yes
. Her eyes scream: “I’m high.” Damn. I should have bought eyedrops. “We moved to Illinois from Ohio. You have all my records right here.” I shove a folder with my transfer records into her hands. I know I could purchase a diploma on the internet. For the right amount of money anything can be bought, but it’s important to me to earn this diploma on my own merits. “Now smile.” She does, only to reveal a mouth with a missing front tooth and stained teeth. “Maybe you should smile with your mouth closed.” She nods. I push the buzzer.

Down the hall we see who must be the secretary waving us into the office. Her white-gray hair pulled in a tight bun at the nape of her neck and reading glasses on the tip of her nose tell me she’s been around a long time. Most likely she’s been the secretary since the school was built, which according to the imprint on the outside of the building, was 1975.
Woodson Prep Private School.

“Hello. Come right in. You must be Mae. Such a lovely name. I’ve been thinking about you ever since your mom called to talk about registration. I have a sister named Mae. My name is Mildred Baker.” I knew I was careless to blurt out
Mae
when I called last week. I usually choose something common like
Ashley
or
Emily
. When Mrs. Baker asked me my name,
Mae
came spewing out
.

“Please have a seat. I’ll page Principal Williams and take your records.” I hand them to her.

“Welcome to Woodson,” says Principal Williams when he emerges from his office. He’s a thin man with squinty eyes, like one of those people who’s always suspicious, “What brings you to Illinois all the way from Ohio?” he asks Mom 4 as he looks over my records. Her eyes are bulging like she’s been asked to answer a question that if she answers incorrectly will send her to prison.

“My…job. I’m a…lawyer.”

“What kind of law do you practice?” asks the principal.

“The kind that gets crackheads off the street.” She starts laughing like she’s manic. I squeeze Mom 4’s hand to remind her who is paying the bill.

“Can I have my schedule?” I ask before she can say anything else stupid.

“Sure.” Principal Williams studies Mom 4 but doesn’t ask any more questions. He looks over my records again. I’ve taken great care to make sure the classes I take at each school will match up to the classes at my new school. Graduating with an education, not just a piece of paper, is important to me. “Looks like you’ve been in the college track, coming from public schools. Hmmm. You’re moved around a lot, Ms. Tatum.”

“Yes, Sir. Mom’s work, you know?” I point to Mom 4 who smiles with her mouth closed. Thank goodness. A lawyer with missing teeth? I think not. “Everyone in this school is in the college track. That’s the beauty of private schools. We have higher standards than public schools.” He pauses. I shake my head in agreement, though I think that’s a bunch of crap. “We also have higher expectations of the behavior of our students. Though we allow students to enroll without a lengthy screening process which is most obvious by out allowance of students to enter with only two months of school remaining…” This time he stares down Mom 4. “We still expect students to adhere to school rules with no exceptions. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” I say.

“Mrs. Baker, give Mae our student handbook to take home to look over the electives offerings. Once those are plugged in, we’ll have you all set to start classes. You can begin as early as tomorrow.”

“Thank you. Tomorrow will be perfect. Do you need Mom to sign anything?”

“Yes. Mrs. Baker has some forms. There’s also a student coming to give you a tour.”

“Actually, Mom has an appointment at 1:00, so if she can sign now I can study a map of the school.” I do that all the time I want to add.

Mrs. Baker shows Mom 4 where she needs to sign. The pen shakes in her hand. “Liza Tatum” I whisper in her ear.

“Hey, Mrs. Baker.”

I turn around. A young man with bright blue eyes and hair the color of a surfer’s stands behind me with a grin as wide as the Pacific Ocean.

“Hi, Ty. This is Mae Tatum,” says Mrs. Baker. “Thanks for coming down, but it looks like the tour will have to be rescheduled.”

“No problem,” he says extending his hand to me. I take it. “Nice to meet you, Mae. First hour starts at 8:00, so if you can be here at 7:30, I’ll show you around.”

“Thanks.” I look to the ground. Making eye contact with hot guys is never a good idea. They ask too many questions. Questions lead to knowledge. Knowledge leads to relationships. My relationships lead to death. I don’t care what Grandma said about just having bad luck.

“Oh! Oh! Oh, please,” I hear next to me. Mom 4 is bracing herself on Mrs. Baker’s desk. She’s turning five shades of red. Her hand starts shaking.
“No, no, no,”
she keeps muttering.

“Are you okay, Ma’am?” asks Principal Williams. And then she bolts. I don’t know what to do. So much for blending in.

“Bad sushi,” I add before grabbing the student handbook and running out the door behind her.

I fumble with the keys to unlock the door to my car. As soon as Mom 4 is inside she passes out on the backseat. I hit the gas and accelerate out of the parking lot before anyone else sees us. Sarah was right. Running away wouldn’t be easy. I don’t know what the hell just happened. I could use my best friend to help me figure this out. But putting her life in danger is not an option.

“You’re paranoid,” she’d say. “People don’t die because they know you. Coincidences, really bad coincidences are all. I know it sucks. I know it hurts, but pull yourself together. You are driving everyone away by your crazy talk.” That was the last conversation we ever had. She was right after all. I
was
driving everyone away, and killing some of them, too. I left to protect them.

I pull into the Walmart parking lot, crack the window open, and lock the crazy lady inside. After fifteen minutes I return with Mom 4’s goodie bag. I’m not a heartless daughter. I try to leave the moms with more than my money: comforts like a blanket, slippers, flashlight, and snacks. Mom 4 is still sleeping, so I drive through town and back to the corner I found her on. I look at the dilapidated buildings. Each building has one more broken window than the next, some boarded up with cheap plywood, some with jagged glass, some with pretty flower curtains blowing in the wind showing an owner’s attempt to replicate suburbia despite the poverty that pours from the neighborhood. I wonder what happened to Mom 4 to send her to this hell hole. I know my payment today won’t make a dent in her life. That makes me sad. She looks so peaceful now. I can’t keep her, though. I can’t keep anyone anymore. I open my water bottle to douse her face.

“What the hell?” She bolts upright.

“Look, I don’t know what happened back there, but it’s time to go.”

“I’m sorry, so, so sorry.” She keeps repeating it over and over, but I don’t think she’s talking to me.

“Here’s your money.” I hand over $150 in cash. “Please do yourself some good and use it for food and shelter. You deserve more than this street corner.” I hand her the bag, too. She clings to me like a child that’s been frightened by a bad dream. I don’t mind, though. It reminds me of Mom’s hugs.