Leave Me Love (11 page)

ASH AND I
spent the evening talking through every possible murderer while drinking really expensive wine. Probably the wine was contra-indicated with my medication, but I didn't care. It felt good and tasted good and I liked how the dark burgundy liquid looked in the fancy wine glass as I swirled it around. The wine had 'good legs.' That was the term, right? A wine connoisseur I was not, but it didn't matter. I could still enjoy the taste of it and the fire crackling in front of us. The smell of burning wood and flames made me think of camping, the trips we'd taken as a family before my family died.

I
closed my eyes and leaned back into Ash's arms, memories dancing behind my eyelids. Memories of s'mores and sleeping under the stars and my dad telling ghost stories even as my mom scolded him not to be too scary. But I never had bad dreams from his stories, even though my mom did. I never had bad dreams until after they were murdered.

"Cat?" Ash's voice held worry and I opened my eyes and looked up at him.

"Hmm?"

"I think I lost you there for a minute."

I set my empty glass down though I couldn't remember finishing it. "Just thinking about the past. About my family and my life as a child. Do you have any good memories of your childhood?" He didn't like talking about his family, which I understood, but it couldn't have been all bad.

"Sure. Everyone has something good
, I suppose. Well, most people. My brother and I used to build fantastic forts in the woods behind our house. We'd find large leaves, branches, rocks, anything we could carry, and create these magical fantasy worlds where nymphs and fairies and dragons lived. We'd make swords from branches and train as knights." He stared at the fire, mindlessly running his hand through my hair. "We were so close in age that for along time we were each other's best friend."

"What happened?"

His eyes snapped back to the present and he finished the last of his wine and stood. "We grew up. Grew apart. Found that we had less in common than I'd thought. It happens."

There was more to the story, I could tell, but it could wait.

We locked up the house, turned off the lights and found solace in each other's arms, making love to the sound of a light rainfall outside and falling asleep holding each other.

***

The next day, Professor Cavin picked me up and we drove the two-and-a-half hours to his cabin. Ash wanted to come along, but I insisted against it. This was something I had to do myself. I had no idea what we'd find when we arrived, if anything, but a buzz of anticipation built in my stomach the closer we got to our remote destination.

The last leg of the trip we bumped along a dirt road that wouldn't have made it to any maps or GPS systems. Surrounded by
oak, hickory, cherry and birch trees, with nothing but nature everywhere, it felt like stepping into another world. When the cabin came into view, it looked just as I'd imagined it. Cozy, small, made of polished logs, situated between the woods and a private lake.

I inhaled deeply as I stood on the porch waiting for
Professor Cavin to unlock the front door. Nothing smelled as good as this—except maybe Ash. Clean air, wild flowers and a hint of the musky foliage decomposing under layers of forest floor. It smelled raw and natural, free of human pollution and toxicity.

Professor
Cavin pushed open the door and fiddled with a light switch. The bulb flickered for a moment before coming on. "Wasn't sure it'd work. Haven't had electricity in here for years."

He shuffled in and I followed, dropping my purse on a small table by the front door. A love seat sat in front of a wood
-burning stove, with a reclining chair to the right of it. The kitchen and living room formed a large L shape, open and inviting. The hardwood floors and colorful throw rugs gave the room a warm, intimate feel. A two-seater table sat in the middle, made of the same wood as the cabin.

"It's a humble place, but goo
d for getting away and clearing your head." Professor Cavin coughed, and I could tell being here was hard for him. He showed me the rest of the place, including the one small bedroom with a queen-size bed and dresser, and a bathroom with a shower, sink and toilet.

I stared at the bed the longest, knowing in my gut that this is where my mom had her affair with
him. Had they made love on top of that handmade quilt? Or had they taken the quilt off first? Was it rough and rowdy or slow and sweet? I couldn't look at my professor and imagine him naked, sweaty and entangled with my young, beautiful mother. I shivered at the thought.

Professor
Cavin came up behind me, looking in.

"You and my mom… "

He nodded. "Yes. This is where it happened, during our last study retreat here."

He walked away quickly, heading outside to the porch.

I used the time alone to search the small cabin, looking in drawers and cupboards, hoping for something that would lead to the book my mother wrote. All I found were a few dust bunnies and some expired cans of food.

Frustrated, I joined
the professor outside and sat next to him on the porch swing facing the lake.

He stared at the horizon.
"Alice was a beautiful woman. One-of-a-kind. She had a passion for life I'd never seen in anyone else. That passion glowed within her and made her a star in a world of darkness."

"I wi
sh she was still here." I kicked my feet out in front of me to make the swing move faster.

"I do too. I know she would hate seeing you go through all this. It would break her heart, but she would fight for you with every fiber of her being."

I sucked in a breath and watched a squirrel climb a tree, wishing I could be as free and unencumbered. "I'm being framed," I said.

Professor
Cavin looked at me, his eyes narrowing. "Why?"

"Someone wants that book my mom was working on. They think I have it, or that I can find it, and they want me to trade it for Brig. That's why I wanted to come here. I…
I don't know, I guess I hoped this cabin would hold some clues as to where my mom put it."

The professor
nodded sagely. "Who would know about the book? And who would think you had access to it?"

Who
, indeed? Plenty of people would have known about the book. She hadn't kept that part a secret.

But only one person would have reason to believe I knew where it was. Only one person had a letter fr
om my mother saying,
The book is with Cat
.

Maxwell.

THAT NIGHT, I
told Ash my suspicions as we sat in the upstairs patio outside our bedroom, taking in the sights and sipping on cabernet.

"I don't think it's Maxwell," he said, stroking my hand. "Alice trusted him with that letter, with that information. If Lauren's right and Alice started to suspect someone close to her, it couldn't have been Maxwell or she wouldn't have confided in him, right?"

"True." He had a point. "But maybe she was wrong. Maybe my mom trusted the wrong person, suspected the wrong person."

We sat in silence for a few more moments as my brain churned with ideas. "What if we bait him?"

"Who, Maxwell?"

"Yes," I said. "I'll tell him I found the book and see what happens. If he's the killer, he'll act."

Ash frowned. "That's risky, sweetheart. Acting could mean hurting you."

I cuddled up against him. "That's why I have you to keep me safe."

"Speaking of, this weekend we're going shooting and doing some hand-to-hand combat training."

"Okay, deal. But first, we set this plan in action."

Ash pulled me unto his lap. "That's not what's happening first."

I smiled, rubbing against his already-hard cock. "Oh
, really? What are you doing first then?"

"You." His hand slipped under my shirt and up to my breast as he kissed me, first tenderly, slowly, then with deepening, toe-curling passion.

"Shouldn't we go back in the room?" I asked.

"Why? No one can see us out here. I want you under the stars."

He lifted me up, switching places with me, pushing me into the couch while he kneeled in front of me and stripped my pants and underwear off. The cold air hit the warm folds of my pussy as he spread my legs and licked the sensitive flesh between my thighs.

I moaned and thrust my hips
toward his mouth. Using two fingers, he entered me, finding the right spot to rub as he used his mouth to bring me to climax.

I came hard, my body bucking under him, and he shoved his cock into me as my pussy still clenched and unclenched. "God, you're so tight, Cat. You feel so good."

He fucked me hard and fast and I begged for more, faster, harder, as another orgasm wracked my body. I dug my fingers into his back, scratching his flesh as a wave of pleasure released in me and I sank my teeth into his shoulder. He moaned and nipped at my neck as we fell into each other's arms, breathing heavily and leaving trails of cold air between us.

"That was… amazing," he said.

I shivered in his arms. "You're amazing."

It was too
chilly to sit there half-naked, so I pulled on my pants and curled up in his arms, satiated from our lovemaking and content to stay there forever. Ash, however, had other plans.

He stood and went into the bedroom, then came back with two
Cuban cigars. "It's time we smoked together. You said, not too long ago, that you wanted to."

I smiled. "I do."

He clipped one and lit it, then handed it to me and did the same for his. I sucked deeply then exhaled, enjoying the night sky and the relaxing evening.

After a few more puffs, I set the cigar down on the crystal ashtray he'd brought out. "I'm going to get some water. Do you want any?"

He shook his head. "I'm good." He pulled me to him and kissed me again. "Hurry. I miss you already."

I went downstairs to the kitchen, still marveling at the epic size of this house and that I lived here.
I poured a glass of water, then turned off the kitchen light. On my way out of the room, my hand knocked over something on the counter, sending it crashing to the floor. “Shit!”

I turned the light back on
and found a shattered bowl of mints. I thought of the note I'd gotten in the hospital. Mints and cigars.

My head spun, eyes buzzing as lights flashed around me.

Then, nothing.

***

I sat in front of a house I didn't recognize, but I knew the address. Lauren, my therapist. How did I get here? She came to the door, her face pinched in annoyance. "It's really not appropriate for you to show up at my door unannounced in the middle of the night, Catelyn. This crosses a line."

My face burned in humiliation. "I'm sorry. I don't know how I got here."

She looked around outside, then opened her door. "Come in. It's too cold out there."

I looked down and realized I wasn't wearing any shoes or jacket, just the sweater and pants I'd been wearing while with Ash.

We sat on her living room couch, and she offered me some hot tea after I texted Ash. She wrapped herself in a silk robe, her hair loose and draped over her shoulders. "Tell me what happened."

I told her what I was doing before finding myself at her house
, and she told me to make sure Ash brought my medication when he came to pick me up.

We sat and talked and she probed me for what I was thinking before I blacked
out. "These things usually happen around a stressful trigger. What triggered you this time?"

"I'm worried about Ash," I confessed. "Do you know anything about Ash's trial when he was young
? The one my mom was involved with?"

"I do. I was the psych consult.
I worked on a few cases back then."

"What did you discover?" I wiped a sweaty palm on my pants and tried to stop my shaking.

Lauren looked troubled, her mouth pinched. "I can't share that with you, Catelyn. You know that."

"Is… is there something there to share? Something I need to know?"

Lauren didn't answer, and the doorbell rang. Ash looked worried sick. "What happened? You went downstairs to get water and then you were gone."

I buried my face in his chest, wishing I could trust him without reservation. Wishing there weren't so many secrets in my life. "I'm sorry. I blacked out and must have done some kind of
sleepwalking. Did you bring my meds?"

He handed them to me
, and I took them and waved goodbye to Lauren, who still look haunted by something she couldn't talk about.

Once home, Ash wanted me to go to bed, but I couldn't rest. I needed to know what happened to my mother all those years ago. I pulled out the box of pictures and letters I'd been collecting and started looking through them again.

One picture seemed thicker than the others, and I realized it was stuck to another one. I peeled the hidden one off the back, careful not to tear it, and found a picture that sent shivers up my arms.

It was of my mother
in a formal ball gown, holding a glass of champagne.

With Mr. Beaumont putting an arm around her.