If You Ever Tell (41 page)

And Celeste? He drew enough breath to utter her name, but unless she’d been close to the door, she couldn’t have heard him. Had she escaped? Or was she lying inside the house, dead? Or maybe, like years ago, close to death?

The doorway began to shift, then to whirl. Jason closed his eyes, knowing he was on the verge of passing out. He couldn’t look at the spinning world any longer, but he could still hear—not the boom of fireworks but a sound like sirens. He tried to open his eyes, but the effort was too great. He took as deep a breath as he could manage, waiting for death to enfold him, when suddenly a white light shone through the veil of his eyelids. Jason wondered if this was the light everyone talked about seeing when you were dying.

His question was answered when he heard someone yell, “He’s over here and he’s alive.” Then someone gently touched his shoulder and a deep male voice said, “Just be calm, fella. I’m a cop, and emergency services will be here any minute. You’re going to be all right, now.”

C
ELESTE HAD RUN ALONG
the chain-link fence surrounding Defense Logistics Agency until she’d come to a slope. Halfway down, her tennis shoe slipped on dew-laden weeds and she’d rolled all the way down into a field. At first terrified that she’d either broken her leg or sprained her ankle, she’d sat still, looking around, trying to catch her breath. Then she stood, feeling only minor pain in her ankle. Slowly, carefully, she crept across the back of the field where the undergrowth was high, crossed a narrow dirt road, drew a ragged breath, and almost burst into tears when she read the dark green writing on a large white sign:

She was not Catholic, but she made the sign of the cross and mouthed a silent prayer to the dark sky. She’d made it. She was hot, she was dirty, she was exhausted, but she’d made it to safety.

Celeste darted to the trees lining the edge of the road and skittered across the open fields where the beautiful horses whiled away their days eating grass, soaking up the sun, occasionally being taken for a walk or even a run. Crouching behind one of the ring posts, Celeste looked with longing at the big, luxurious barn. She ran for the corner and felt an almost overwhelming desire to enter, pet the horses she knew had not received enough attention since the murder of Gus Gibbs everyone kept trying to keep her from hearing about, then crawl onto a mound of hay and sleep peacefully the rest of the night. In the morning, there would be time to think about Daddy and Grandma. She would have the rest of her life to think about Daddy and Grandma.

But they’re dead, Celeste told herself. As much as it hurts, I know they’re dead. But Teri is still alive—I
know
it; I can
feel
it! And she’ll stay alive if I can help her like she once helped me.

Teri led a weeping Carmen to the couch and sat down beside her. Suddenly Teri realized she’d never seen Carmen cry. Oh, a few controlled tears had stood in her eyes sometimes when she’d talked about Marielle after her disappearance, but generally Carmen always had been upbeat, optimistic. She’d always told Teri not to lose hope about
anything
, but Carmen’s flowing tears let Teri know that Carmen now had completely lost hope for herself.

A lot of people in town thought Carmen’s outer self-control indicated a lack of feeling anything for anyone. How wrong they’d been, Teresa thought. Carmen had cared about Marielle. And no one who saw Carmen now could say she wasn’t crushed by Gabe’s—Gabe’s what? Teri realized she didn’t know exactly what had happened between Carmen and Gabe, and now bluntly asked her, just as Carmen had bluntly asked Teri what had happened when she broke off her engagement to Mac.

“Are you asking if he ‘jilted’ me?” Carmen managed a tiny, sarcastic smile. “Not exactly. He said we had to put off the wedding until after he’s taken care of his daughter.”

Teri leaned back and looked at her friend with a smile. “Good heavens, Carmen, he hasn’t dropped you. He just wants to postpone the wedding—”

“You don’t know him as well as I do and you didn’t hear him on the phone.” Carmen made the pathetic sound of a dying animal. “He is not going to marry me, Teri. Gabe O’Brien simply doesn’t want me anymore.”

“That can’t be true, Carmen. Now pull yourself together and think about this logically. A few hours ago, he loved you so deeply he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Do you think because his daughter had a temper fit about it, he’s going to throw you away?”

“Honestly, yes. He doesn’t think his daughter is just having a temper fit. He thinks she’s having a nervous breakdown. He even compared her to your mother, Teri.” Teresa winced. “Oh, God, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I said about five other things to Gabe on the phone I’m sorry for, but I said them, and he’ll never forgive me.”

“You don’t know that, Carmen. Gabe was speaking in the heat of the moment just as you were. As soon as they find Sharon—and they will, very soon, I’m sure—he’s going to think this through and realize what happened. He doesn’t want to lose you, Carmen.”

After a moment of silence, Carmen said harshly, “Sharon told him I had an affair with your father.”

Teresa felt herself blushing like a child. She didn’t know why she found Sharon’s accusation of a sexual involvement between her father and Carmen so unsettling. It was ridiculous, Teri told herself. Preposterous! Absurd! At least four more synonyms popped into her mind with flashing speed. Yet she had the sensation of grasping at straws, at grabbing for easy, dismissive words that required no thought. Teri wondered why she felt so awkward.

Because something about the very suggestion of Carmen and Dad having sex, not once but many times, feels sickeningly possible, she thought in surprise. Because Carmen’s betrayal of Mom, supposedly Carmen’s best friend, suddenly doesn’t seem at all unthinkable, Teri realized in surprise, remembering little glances, brief touches, small, intimate smiles between Hugh and Carmen, turned off like a light switch when they caught someone gazing at them.

Carmen looked at her piercingly. Unnerved, Teri said quickly, “Gabe doesn’t believe you were involved with my father. If over the phone he sounded as if he did, it’s just because he’s flustered. When he calms down, Carmen, he’ll realize you couldn’t even stand to be around my father, much less to be his mistress. You just need patience. This rift between the two of you can be fixed.”

“Oh, how I wish that were true.” All of the life suddenly seemed to drain from Carmen. She slumped on the couch, clasping her hands, her gaze far away. She looked dead, and abruptly Teresa felt afraid for her. And
of
her, she admitted to herself. The Carmen Teresa had known and loved for years had suddenly become someone she felt she barely knew. But at least the woman was no longer giving her that probing, piercing look that seemed to reach her very soul, Teresa thought in relief. She’d never seen that look in Carmen’s eyes before tonight.

“Carmen, I think you need a drink to calm you down,” Teri said abruptly. “I’d offer a tranquilizer, but I don’t have any.”

“I’d rather have a drink,” Carmen said in a toneless voice. “But not champagne. God, not champagne.”

“I wasn’t thinking of champagne. I have beer. I also have some tequila and margarita mix. How about a margarita? You’ve always loved margaritas.”

“I have?” Carmen said vaguely. “It’s so silly, but at the moment I can’t seem to remember what I did and did not love.” She glanced at Teri. “Yes, I would like a margarita.”

“Good. So would I.” Teresa stood. “You just relax on the couch and I’ll bring out the drinks in a few minutes.”

Carmen leaned forward slowly and shifted several times, as if she were trying to coordinate the parts of different bodies. “I’ll go in the kitchen with you, if you don’t mind. I don’t want to sit out here by myself.” She looked around. “Where’s Sierra, by the way? You two are nearly inseparable.”

“On a usual night, yes, but tonight’s special,” Teri said lightly as she dashed into the kitchen, Carmen shambling along behind her. “Daniel is staying with me and he wanted to sleep with Sierra.”

“Sharon won’t like that.”

“Sharon won’t know if I can help it. Anyway, my only fear was that Sierra wouldn’t sleep with anyone except for me, but she snuggled right up to Daniel,” Teri chattered, knowing she spoke louder and faster than usual, wondering if Carmen even noticed. “
I
never get snuggled, but I think she realized Daniel needed all the comfort he could get in spite of the Coke and cupcakes he’d had earlier. The poor little guy was completely thrown by his mother’s scene downtown.”

“No wonder. Sharon will be the talk of the town tomorrow. That should make her happy. She always wants to be the center of attention.”

Carmen’s words were bitter, but her voice sounded flat. She could have been talking about someone she didn’t know.

“I don’t think she wants the kind of attention she got tonight.” Teresa stretched to reach a bottle of tequila on the top shelf of a kitchen cabinet. It sat beside a bottle of scotch and a bottle of bourbon. “I guarantee she’ll regret it tomorrow.”

“She probably loves that everyone is so worried and out looking for her,” Carmen went on in a distant voice as if she hadn’t heard Teri. “Do you think she’ll come here?”

“Oh, I doubt it. The only reason she would is if she thinks I have Daniel, and if she comes here to get him, I won’t let her have him. Not if she’s alone. If Kent is with her… well, Kent wouldn’t want Daniel disturbed. I don’t think you and I will be seeing Sharon tonight.”

Teresa pulled a bottle of margarita mix from the refrigerator. She poured tequila and the well-chilled mix in the blender and turned it on, hoping the noise wouldn’t awaken Daniel. She was pouring the drinks into big glasses when Carmen asked, “Where’s Mac? Has he joined the search, too?”

“I can’t find him, either. He said Emma wasn’t feeling well and he was going to drop her off at her apartment, then come here, but he’s never turned up. I’ve tried his cell phone, his home phone, and even Emma’s phone, but I can’t get an answer anywhere.”

“So you and Daniel are all alone.”

“Yes.” Teri hesitated, suddenly hit by the strong scent of sandalwood. “Carmen, did you just put on cologne?” she asked, turning around.

“It’s my favorite scent,” Carmen returned calmly, steadily pointing a .22 revolver at Teresa’s forehead.

Celeste was girding herself for a run across the field and up the knoll to Teri’s front door when she saw someone climbing Teri’s front porch steps. She instinctively hit the ground, flattening herself as much as possible in the well-trimmed grass. Celeste squinted furiously, but the person in long ragged jeans walked with head lowered and hands tucked inside a voluminous windbreaker. Teri’s visitor didn’t dress or walk like anyone with whom Celeste was familiar, and she couldn’t get a good enough look at the face to be sure of the identity.

In fact, she wasn’t even sure if the person was male or female. She
knew
it wasn’t Mac—he was taller. She’d seen him one Saturday when Daddy had taken her to Bennigan’s and he’d winked at her. Then she’d seen him tonight with Teri. When Celeste had lived in the Farr house, Teri and Mac had loved each other, although Teri had told her it was a huge secret that she must never tell, and she never did. Anyway, she knew the person dragging to Teri’s door wasn’t Mac. Maybe it was that guy Josh she’d met in the barn the other day, she thought anxiously. He was the son of Gus Gibbs, the man who got murdered. Some people said Josh had murdered his father, but Celeste
knew
he hadn’t, and it wasn’t just because he was cute. Everything would be okay if it was Josh.

If it wasn’t Josh, it could be Kent, Celeste thought, desperately hoping she was right. She remembered him as being bigger than this person seemed to be, but she’d been little when she last saw him. Anyway, the important thing was that Kent wouldn’t hurt Teri. Kent had loved Teri, although he’d always tried to act cool, like he didn’t even notice his younger sister.

Or maybe it was Kent’s wife! Celeste had met her a long time ago, before she and Kent got married. Hugh hadn’t liked her. Hugh hadn’t liked anyone except Mommy, Celeste thought bitterly. He’d been mean to Kent’s girlfriend and one day made her run from the house crying. Celeste couldn’t remember the girl’s name. Besides, her name didn’t matter. Celeste didn’t care about names.

But she feared. She feared she knew who had come to see Teri and she feared she knew why. With a sinking heart, Celeste saw Teri open the door. The person flew into Teri’s arms and Teri clasped the person, whom she immediately pulled inside, closing the door behind them.

Oh, please don’t let that be who I think it is, Celeste begged no one in particular.
Please.

Celeste waited until she’d regained her breath and her legs felt slightly rested before she stood and moved quickly toward the house. Her recent encounters with shrubbery reminded her that people often let it grow as high as first-floor windows. People like Teri. Celeste dodged behind the sturdy boxwood shrubs that surrounded most of Teri’s house. Whenever Celeste came to a window, she rose just high enough to look inside, even if it was dark. At last, she came to a window from which spilled a warm, bright glow. Forcing herself to ascend until her eyes were just above the windowsill, she saw a kitchen. In the kitchen, Teri stood holding two large glasses of a greenish liquid.

And the woman Celeste had seen at the fireworks display—the woman who’d cried out in surprise when a loud firework startled her, just like she’d cried out eight years ago when she’d opened Mommy’s bedroom door and seen an eight-year-old Celeste standing there. The woman in the park whose gaze had landed on Celeste, who had been unable to stop staring since she’d heard the woman’s surprised yelp. Earlier this evening, after all these years, they’d seen each other and each had known—Celeste knew this was who had killed her mother and Hugh, and the woman knew that Celeste had finally recognized her.

And now that woman was sitting at a kitchen table pointing a gun at Teri’s head.