What's Done in Darkness (15 page)

“Monday?” I was surprised. “That's in four days.”

“Yes, and I'm not going to have the shop open. All the more reason for you to go with us.”

“Did you invite Alexis, too?” I asked. “Or just me?”

“Alexis is nice and all, but I wouldn't hang out with her.”

“What's she going to be doing with the shop shut down?” Not that I thought she'd hang with me during Katrina and Christian's absence. Alexis and I got along at work, but the moment she clocked out she got on her boyfriend's Harley and took off.

“Alexis said she's going to head to Miami with her boyfriend. She's got family there.”

I nodded. Maybe it was time for me to take a trip back to Erie? But as soon as the thought entered my mind I dismissed it. I'd barely arrived in Florida. Besides that, I wasn't certain that I wanted to see my sister. I was still annoyed with her for opening her big mouth. And home was a long drive away. It wasn't like I'd been gone for months.

“Maybe I'll go to Miami, too. I've always wanted to visit South Beach.”

“Suit yourself,” Katrina said. Then she turned and headed back behind the front counter.

Once again, Gordon wasn't here. Was he really a scumbag who'd been outed by Katrina? Or had she said something to scare him off?

I didn't entirely trust her anymore. More than once, she'd snapped at me when it was totally uncalled for. And the way she'd been in my room last night had creeped me out.

Why was she so insistent that I go to Mexico? And that bit about her wanting to set me up with the possible love of my life? Come on.

But as the morning went on, I started to wonder again if Katrina wanted me on the trip because she didn't want to be alone with Christian. I couldn't understand why she was bothering to go at all.

Clearly, their relationship was up-and-down. Maybe the stress of that rocky relationship was causing Katrina's mood swings. Maybe she figured if I was in Mexico with them things wouldn't be so unpredictable.

Which told me Katrina was wary of Christian. I didn't blame her. I was wary of him, too.

I was checking on the tables in section one when I felt my phone vibrate in my apron pocket. I quickly withdrew it, saw Wesley's smiling face.

Excitement tickled my stomach. Wesley was calling? That's right. I'd sent him a text a couple of nights ago. Maybe he was finally willing to get our relationship back on track.

I hurried to the back of the shop before swiping the TALK icon, then put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I reeled backward, shocked by his words. “Excuse me?”

“Threatening me? Threatening Michelle. She wanted to call the police, by the way. I had to talk her out of doing that.”

I slipped into the kitchen. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Is that your game? Go off like a psycho lunatic, then play innocent?”

“Tell me what the hell you're talking about!”

Wesley scoffed. “I'm talking about those fucking pictures you sent to my Facebook page and messaged to Michelle. You may have set up a different account, but we know it was you.”

I made a face, confused. “What?”

“Of all things, a German shepherd? When you know my dog was hit by a car last year.”

“Wes—”

“Is this your idea of showing me that you've ‘changed and deserve another chance'?” he asked, quoting the last text message I'd sent him.

“I didn't do what you think I did!”

“Sure, and you didn't call her a whore on my page, either, right?”

I said nothing. I couldn't deny that one.

“Every day, you keep showing me just how deranged you are. We're done, Jade. Never contact me or Michelle again.”

“Wesley, why won't you listen to me? I didn't send any crazy pictures. I wouldn't—”

“Just leave us the fuck alone, Jade. You understand? And get some fucking help.”

As the phone went dead, I held it in my hand, completely befuddled. What the hell was Wesley talking about? Pictures? I hadn't sent him any pictures.

I jumped when I heard the kitchen door open. Then I looked in that direction, saw Katrina eyeing me curiously. “Everything okay?” she asked.

A shuddery breath oozed out of me. “No, everything is not okay. I need…” I walked toward her. “Can I have a minute?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said.

I scrambled into the staff bathroom at the back of the café. Then I opened up my Facebook page on my phone.

I tried to access Michelle's page, but I couldn't even see it now, meaning she had gone beyond unfriending me and had blocked me. So I went to Wesley's page and scrolled down his wall.

And the image I saw there made me gasp. It was a graphic picture of a pig that had been gutted, its entrails in a pile beside its body. It had been sent from someone named JANE DOE.

Obviously a pseudonym.

The words read:
This is what happens to scumbag cheaters. Consider yourself warned.

“What the heck?” I said aloud. Wesley thought I'd sent him this? Didn't he know me better than that?

I scrolled down farther. The next picture made tears come to my eyes. The decapitated head of a dog, a German Shepherd, made me sick to my stomach.

Look in the mirror, dog.

“My God,” I gasped. This was horrific. Absolutely sickening.

I had a couple of messages, so I opened my in-box. I saw Wesley's name, first, and clicked to read his message. But I quickly learned that the message was actually from Michelle:

Bitch, this is Michelle. I've blocked your ass, so I'm using Wesley's account to send you this final warning.

Do you really think I'm stupid?

You message me pictures of gutted animals on Facebook from some fake account and think I won't realize who it is?

You threaten me again and I'm reporting your ass to the cops. And you wonder why Wesley chose me over you? Get some help, you fucking psycho!

Hot tears spilled onto my cheeks. Tears of frustration. My God, why would they think I would do something so heinous? I hadn't set up any fake account.

Michelle and Wesley, it wasn't me. Honestly. I don't know who did that, but it wasn't me. I swear.

I sent the message but didn't know if either of them would believe me. Wesley of all people should know I wouldn't send him a picture of a dead dog. I loved dogs. I loved all animals.

But that whole bit about
this is what happens to scumbag cheaters
 … Anyone looking at the page would think that I had been the one to send it.

My head swam as a memory hit me. Katrina in my room in the middle of the night. The sound of fingers on a keyboard that had initially roused me from my sleep.

Good God, had
she
done this?

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

When I went back into the café, I debated confronting Katrina. Debated but dismissed the idea. How could I accuse her of something so … so crazy?

Instead, I set about taking care of my customers. But I was on edge now, suspicious of Katrina and the timing of her having been in my room last night. Had she gone into my computer and found the Facebook info for Wesley and Michelle?

It made sense.

But why would Katrina do something like that? That's what
didn't
make sense. Was I paranoid for even being suspicious of her?

All I knew was that I was pissed. Pissed that someone would threaten Michelle and Wesley and pretend to be me. I guess I was wearing my anger for all to see, because less than an hour after I came back into the café Katrina came up to me and said, “We need to talk. In the back. Now.”

I followed her into the kitchen, and I could feel my anger growing as I did. It was the fact that she'd been in my room last night that didn't sit well with me. Had she accessed my Facebook account while I'd been sleeping?

Facing me, Katrina said, “What is going on with you?”

“Did you send my ex and my friend vile messages on Facebook?”

She looked at me as if I had grown a third eye. “What? I don't even know who they are.”

“That doesn't answer the question.”

“If I don't know who they are, how could I send them messages? And why on earth would I?”

“I don't know. Maybe you thought you were doing me a favor?” I suggested, grasping at straws.

“Do you need to take the rest of the day off? Because you're walking around the café looking pissed off and that's just not acceptable. No matter what's going on between you and your ex—”

“Someone created a fake account and sent Wesley and Michelle pictures of gutted animals with threatening messages. They think I did it.”

“What?”

“Wesley called over an hour ago. He was livid. And Michelle sent me a really nasty message. She thinks I threatened her life and wanted to go to the police. Wesley convinced her not to.”

“Well, if you didn't send them any crazy messages, you didn't send them. The police can't do anything about it.”

I paused, drew in a deep breath. But I forged ahead, because I had to be sure. “Last night, when you were in my room … Were you only checking out Mexico deals on my computer?”

Katrina's expression darkened. “You know what, Jade? I let you come down here, I offered you a job, I allowed you to stay with me … despite knowing what I know about you. You lost it at your boyfriend's graduation; you tried to kill yourself. Now you're accusing me of sending nasty messages to your boyfriend? Do you even hear yourself?”

I opened my mouth to speak, then promptly shut it.
Did
I seem like a lunatic?

“If you're going to accuse me of shit, maybe you ought to just go home. I'm done taking abuse when I've been nothing but nice to you.”

“I'm sorry,” I said, and placed my hand on my forehead. “This is too much stress for one person. Wesley's mad at me; now you're mad at me. And honest to God, I don't know what's going on.”

Unexpectedly, Katrina put her arms around me. “It's okay, Jade. But I am worried about you. All this stress … it can't be good.”

Given what Marie had told her about my car accident, Katrina probably thought I was on the verge of a breakdown. “I'll be fine,” I told her.

“Regardless, take the rest of the day off. Or, if you feel better by the evening, you can come down and work then.”

I was going to argue, insist that I was fine to work. But I thought better of it. I needed time to decompress.

*   *   *

Upstairs, I made the mistake of going on to Facebook—only to find a flurry of nasty messages.

If my friends had thought I was crazy after grad, they were convinced of it now.

I always liked you, but you're fucked up!
That was the first message I saw on my wall, and the rest of the nasty messages were in the same vein:
Psycho! Deranged bitch!

But the worst one was from Gail, one of Michelle's friends. She wrote:
Your mother should have aborted you.

I cried. For a solid ten minutes, I lay in bed and bawled. Everybody hated me.

And then a name sounded in my brain.

Brian.

He didn't hate me. Brian liked me.

Brian was a fresh start.

Sitting up, I wiped my tears. Then I found his number in my phone. For a solid minute, my thumbs hovered above my screen. I wasn't sure what to say.

I decided to keep it simple:

Hey.

About thirty seconds later, my phone trilled. My mood lifted as I saw his name flash on my screen.

Does this mean you're not mad at me?

I responded right away:

On the fence about that.
☺
Where are you?

I waited for a reply, my stomach sinking when there was none.
Come on, Brian. Don't you bail on me, too.

About two minutes later, my phone rang. My heart did a crazed pitter-patter when I saw Brian's name and number displayed on my screen.

I quickly answered the call. “Hello?”

“Hey.”

That deep, sexy voice was like a warm blanket on a cold day. It enveloped me, erasing the chill I'd been feeling.

“Are you still in Key West?” I asked.

“Actually, I left yesterday.”

“Oh.” Disappointment washed over me. I wanted to see him, badly.

“I'm not too far away, though. I'm in Miami. I was hoping to hear from you before I left.”

“Are you coming back?”

“I'm not sure I can.”

“How long will you be in Miami?”

“Why? What's up?”

I blew out a frazzled breath. “I'm just having a bad day.”

“What happened?”

“I don't want to get into it.”

“Hey,” he said softly. “You're upset. Tell me what's going on.”

So I did. I told him about Wesley and Michelle and what they thought I did.

“They're upset right now,” Brian said, “but they'll realize the truth soon enough. And if they don't? Move on and forget them.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“No, it's not easy. But don't beat yourself up over what they think.”

I sighed softly. “Can I meet you in Miami? Katrina, the owner of the coffee shop, is heading to Mexico and I'll have a few days off.”

“She's heading to Mexico? When?”

“In four days. On Monday. And I don't want to be here on my own.”

“Aw, man. I have to head back to Ohio tomorrow.”

His words deflated me. “You do?”

“I wish I didn't.”

“God, I don't want to be here,” I muttered, more to myself. “Katrina asked me to go to Mexico with her and her boyfriend, but that's crazy. I don't want to do that.”