Kill Me If You Can

35

I walked on weak legs back to my seat. I clasped my hands firmly in front of me and sat down. “Whatever you’re going to tell me is just hearsay,” I said, hoping I could convince myself and any court of law. “It’s nothing more than gossip. You made it up, for all I know.”

“If that makes you feel better,” Candice said.

She settled into her seat, ready to tell the rest of her morbid tale. I couldn’t bear to hear the inevitable story of Melissa killing Drake in order to save her own life. And yet I adjusted to ease the crick in my neck as Candice continued.

“When he heard the gunshot, Sid came back in the bedroom. I don’t know what came over me. I thought he’d try to hurt me when he saw what I’d done to Paul. So I shot Sid too. It was awful. I hadn’t meant to do it. I guess some self-preservation instinct came over me. Now, of course, I had to hide what I’d done. So I dragged the bodies to the garage and set the place on fire. I went back to your grandfather’s house. I showered, then cooked supper. We had a wonderful last meal together. But I knew he could never love me after what I’d done. So later, when we heard the news, I pretended to be angry with him for setting the fire. I left in a rage. In the end, the investigators called the whole thing a botched drug deal. And that was that.”

I watched her thin fingers move delicately with the story. My emotions wavered somewhere between sympathy and contempt. If her goal was to make me empathize with Melissa’s deed by telling me her own sordid experience, I wasn’t sure she’d found success.

“I spent many long, lonely years after that, Tish,” Candice said. “I was in agony over my actions. I’d broken my own heart. It is a life I would never wish on anyone.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “That’s why when I heard Drake was out of jail, I arranged to meet him in the grove. I shot Drake so that Melissa could live.”

I gulped and gasped and sputtered and spewed, sitting up in my chair in case the vomit rising in my esophagus should decide to erupt. Candice killed Drake? A couple minutes passed before I could see straight. Now, with indignation exhausted, I sat mute, shaking my head.

“Don’t judge me too harshly, Tish.” She reached her hands forward, palms up, as she pleaded her case. “It was done only out of my great love for you and the hope that your friend would have a better life than I.”

“What am I supposed to do now, Candice? You tell me this stuff and . . . what? Am I supposed to keep quiet?”

“I trust you’ll do what’s right, whatever you decide.” She stood and picked up a black box from the floor near the fireplace.

A spasm of fear came over me. I wondered if she felt the need to kill me too now that I knew her secret.

“I’m glad you came today,” she said. She held the box out to me. It was the size and shape for storing photos. “This is for your grandfather. Would you please see that he gets it?”

“Why don’t you give it to him yourself? I’m sure he’d like to hear the story from you.”

Candice shook her head. “Things are already snowballing, I’m afraid. I have to leave today. I’m going to be doing some traveling. Canada, I think.” She shoved the box into my arms. “There are a lot of things to put to rights before death comes calling. Please see that your grandfather gets this.” She tapped a finger on the box, then reached up and clasped my face in her hands. “I love you, Tish.” She kissed my forehead, then turned and left the room.

I looked at the box sitting on the passenger seat. A few errant raindrops had spattered the top like tears. I could barely fathom what Candice had done. It was a relief to know my grandfather hadn’t had anything to do with that fire so long ago, but now I was in anguish trying to figure out my own course of action. In this case, perhaps it would have been better to let sleeping dogs lie. I certainly did not want the duty that came with the information now swimming in my head.

I turned down my drive. The multitude of potholes reminded me that the road was due to be graded, along with a million other things that still needed to be done. I pulled up to the house. Sam’s VW was missing, along with Joel’s car. I sandwiched my vehicle between Gerard’s truck and Brad’s SUV. I took a deep breath and got out.

Brad stepped off the back deck. I watched him come my way bringing the warm body I longed to hold, the lips I wanted to kiss, the eyes I could get lost in.

“How are you?” he asked.

I walked around to the passenger door and took out the black box. I blinked against the light rain. “My life just keeps getting better and better.”

He slammed the car door for me and followed me inside. I set the box on the counter. I turned toward the noise in the great room. Hannah rode past on Gerard’s shoulders, whooping and screaming in glee. I couldn’t help but smile at the pair despite the gruesome knowledge tucked in my brain.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the edge of the counter. “So where’s the rest of the crew?” I asked.

Brad crossed his arms and leaned next to me. “Samantha took Melissa to town. They have to pick out a casket and handle some other details.”

I nodded. “How is Melissa taking all this?”

“It’s like she won the lottery.”

“Oh.” If I hadn’t known the true assailant, I would have suspected Melissa’s guilt even more.

“A little strange, don’t you think?” Brad said.

I shrugged. “Drake threatened to kill her. I guess she’s just excited someone got to Drake before Drake got to her.” I stared at the dirty dishes on the sink. If I told Brad what Candice had told me, he’d know the right thing to do. I opened my mouth.

Brad intercepted. “What do you know about your cousin Joel? Sam really seems to like him. But he has a pretty lame alibi for yesterday morning. Says he went for a drive.”

“Joel? He’s a great guy. And he can cook. What are you getting at?”

“I think him and his brother, maybe even your grandfather, are involved in off-limit activities. It’s more intuition than anything. Makes me wonder if one of them had something to do with Drake’s death.”

I gave a vigorous shake of my head, ready to defend the only family I had. “No. Couldn’t be. My grandfather does investigations on the side. Maybe Joel and Gerard help him out. I’m sure there’s nothing illegal going on.” A rerun of the day in the woods with Gerard trading drugs with the camo-dude plagued my mind.

“Something doesn’t add up. I just can’t put my finger on it.” He scooted closer to me. “But enough about them. How about us, Tish?” He tipped his forehead against mine. “Are you interested in giving it a go?”

I choked on saliva. This week I found a dead body, discovered my friend was the murderer, and saw Brad for the first time in forever. And he wanted to know if I was ready to dive back into a relationship?

“Umm, yeah. Sure. Why not?” I said.

“Okay. I guess that’s a yes.” He slid his arm around my shoulder. “I can’t believe how much I’ve missed you. I was pretty lonely when you left. I got up here as quick as I could.”

“That’s right. The trials. How did those go?”

“Guilty. Both of them. Fraud, concealing evidence, murder one, you name it.”

My eyes went back to the array of plates and glasses strewn across my normally clean sink. It was hard to accept that I’d been such a poor judge of character with that hunky Brit who’d lived two doors down from me in Rawlings. But enough time had passed that I could forgive myself and allow a fresh start.

Brad’s bicep rested across my back. His hand draped loosely around my upper arm. His guy scent wafted my way. The air was filled with the male pheromones that make women do and say stupid things simply so they can breathe in more male pheromones. It was like an addiction. But I didn’t care. I rolled against his body and basked in the amazing feel of him. Softness and warmth as I nuzzled my face against his chest. Strength and security as he wrapped his arms around me. How could I have held a grudge against this? What form of self-hatred had made me walk away from Brad in the first place? From now on I vowed to be humble, the first to reach out, the first to offer forgiveness. Whatever it took to make it work this time.

“I love you, Tish.”

The words cascaded over me like a fountain of sweet, warm life.

I gripped him more tightly and looked up into his eyes. “I love you too.” It was strange to hear the words come from my lips. What did I know about loving a man, or any person? But for once I trusted myself. I believed myself. I spoke the truth, with all the accuracy of the moment.

He crushed me in his arms. His deep laughter sang in my ears and I laughed with him.

“I’ve been thinking about it and this is what we can do.” He set me back from him, serious once more. “You come back to Rawlings with me.”

I stiffened in his grip.

“Just listen. We’ll keep this place as our summer home, but in the meantime, I’ll apply for a position in this area. When the right offer comes along, we’ll move up here. You can use the money from the sale of my house in Rawlings to renovate something nearby.”

I smiled. He’d overcome every obstacle with his suggestion. “But,” I squeezed his biceps, “your house belonged to your grandmother. I’m sure you don’t want to part with it.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

I rubbed my lips together. He would really sell the family homestead to be with me? The gesture certainly showed his willingness to commit to our relationship. And what had I done? What conciliations had I made? His plan required nothing of me, except to accompany him back to Rawlings.

It was a beautiful plan.

“So I guess there’s something you want to ask me, huh?” I said, looking into his eyes.

“Yes there is.” His fingers squeezed mine. “But I want to do it right. Take a drive with me to Escanaba tomorrow. Please?”

I nodded and smiled a big yes.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ve got to get back down to your grandfather’s. I promised I’d help him in the barn.”

I watched him drive off. A random tune escaped my lips as I headed upstairs. I shut my bedroom door and jumped, landing on my back on the bed. What a wonderful day this had turned out to be. So what if Candice had done a terrible thing a quarter century ago? It wasn’t my place to tell on her. And as for her more recent crime . . . well, the cops could do their job and arrest Candice if they felt like it. As for me, I gave myself a giddy squeeze. I think I’d just been proposed to. And not by some con-man seeking to use me for his own gain, but by a wonderful, gentle, caring, loving—my list of modifiers could have gone on and on—man who I was going to get to spend the rest of my life with. I was about to get the very thing I longed for, and nothing could stand in the way of it. I giggled and stared into space, imagining the ceremony, the guests, the honeymoon. I dozed off somewhere between the airport and the Fiji Islands.