Dark Corners

“This is your last appointment, Ella. What would you like to talk about?”

  “Nothing. I think I'm doing well.”

  “What are your plans?”

  “I haven’t made any firm decisions.” I smiled at Dr. Carson and thought for a moment. “I'm taking one day at a time. I’m going to Hawaii for a couple weeks. I need to ... decompress. Then I'll come back and tie up all the loose ends here.”

  Dr. Carson smiled at me, pleased with my progress and her success. It actually didn't annoy me. I had come far since the battle with Doug and realized something very important … I wanted to live. At all costs, I wanted a life.

  I found a new therapist who I didn't make me take medication or want to beat my head against the wall. She was just someone to talk to, someone to help me work through the trauma. I actually, sort of, liked her.

  I saw Gabriel a few times, and didn’t talk to him. I wasn't sure what he wanted from me or what I could give him. He had several surgeries on his arm to repair nerve damage and I faithfully went to the hospital after each one, though I didn’t go into his room. I didn't want to be a painful reminder of what happened. I worried the trust we had was broken that day.

  Dr. Carson and I said our final goodbyes. I smiled all the way to the lobby. Before I made it out the door, I was intercepted by Grant.

  “Someone looks happy,” he said.

  “Weird, who?” I said feigning innocence.

  He laughed. “Where are you headed?”

  “I am going back to the house. I need to see it again.”

  “You haven't been back.”

  “No. Would you like to walk with me?”

  “I would.” We started outside. It was a beautiful fall day. The air was cool and smelled of leaves and winter quickly approaching.

  “I had a dream about you,” I told him

  “Oh yeah, when?”

  “The day I was attacked. Have you heard about that?”

  “Who hasn’t?”

  “Yeah, yeah, the small town curse ... Anyway, in the dream, you told me to use what I know. It was good advice. I kept him talking and bought us time. Thank you.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  I looked at him. I knew it wasn’t really him in my dream, but I still felt grateful to him. The little smile on Grant's face told me told me he was keeping something from me.

  “Are you going somewhere?” he asked.

  “Why do you ask?’

  “Well, if I were you and just came through what you did, I’d definitely get away for a while. But you'll come back, right?” He sounded like he was looking for reassurance.

  “Are you trying to get rid of me?” I smiled at him.

  “Actually no, quite the opposite, I’ve grown accustomed having you around. You have, as they say, grown on me.”

  I frowned, not understanding. Grant always seemed used to having me around. “Yes, I am very similar to fungus that way.”

  Grant touched my face lightly. “I understand why he loved you.”

  “Who?”

  “Daniel.”

  “Did you know Danny?”

  “No, not really—but I should head back. I guess this is goodbye.”

  “Will we not see each other again?”

  “I’ll be around, but who knows what fate has in store for us. This life is unpredictable,” he said with a wink, then added, “I really like Gabriel by the way.”

  I stood in shock and watched him go.

  The rest of the way to the house, I thought about Grant.

  I never felt like I was on steady ground after speaking with him. He either had incredible insight or excellent sources. How did he know the things he knew? Eventually my mind wandered to Danny. It was time to let go completely. I stopped by the cemetery to say my final goodbye. I walked to his grave and delicately brushed some leaves off the headstone.

  “It’s over.” The words sounded strange to my ears. What was over? The investigation? My mourning? An era of my life? All of it seemed appropriate. “Despite everything … I have always loved you. Rest in peace, my love. I have to move on now, I know you understand.”

  I felt the sun warming my shoulders as if I had been cold for a long time. I sat next to his grave for a long while, remembering all the good times we had. I wanted those to be my last memories of him. What I had discovered didn’t matter anymore, what mattered is that we loved each other in our own way. Even though it was imperfect, it was the best way we knew how.

  I strolled the rest of the way home lost in a cloud of happy memories which no longer left me bitter. The house didn’t look too bad considering what had happened. The fire damage was basically contained to the master bedroom. The house did, however, look dark and sad. It wasn’t a house that was meant to be empty. I still hadn't decided if I would sell it or move back in. I hoped this visit would sway me one way or another. Mr. Sexton was standing in his yard working on his lawnmower and drinking beer. He looked up, as I walked towards the house.

  "Hey girlie,” he called out. “I thought you finally left. When are you sellin’ it?”

  “You couldn’t afford it.” I yelled back, hoping he wouldn’t feel the need to come closer. Unfortunately he’d already started walking in my direction.

  “The way I see it, you owe me for helping you. At least you can give me first bid on this house.”

  “But you didn’t really help me, did you? You watched someone coming in and out of my house without ever telling me. You harassed me, terrorized me, and peeped through my windows. I don’t owe you anything.” I started to walk away.

  Mr. Sexton shouted behind me, “You owe me!”

  The house may have changed, but the neighbors were the same.

  As I walked in, I could smell the smoke and moisture in the air. I hoped that when the contractor started rebuilding the room it would take care of some of that. I went through the house opening windows to help air her out. She was a tough old broad, this house, and I no longer felt uncomfortable with her. The police had removed all the cameras from the rooms and cleared out the monitors in the basement.

  The house actually felt more like home now. I had so many memories here and while most of them were bad, I could now see definite potential for good ones too.

  “Thought I might find you here.” A familiar baritone voice came from behind me. I closed my eyes for a moment before I turned to see Gabriel in the doorway.

  “How’s the arm?” I asked my heart racing at the sight of him.

  “Healing.”

  “That’s good.” I didn't know what to say to him. There was so much I should have said, so much I planned on saying, but everything vacated my mind as soon as my eyes fell on him. “I came by to visit you at the hospital a few times.”

  “That’s what I hear—though it doesn’t actually count as a visit if you don’t come into the room, you know.”

  I didn’t know how to explain the trepidation I had in regards to seeing him since that night. With each passing day it became harder and harder to make myself believe there was any hope for the two of us causing me to continue to put it off indefinitely. However, in all fairness he hadn’t come to see me either. “I couldn’t.”

  He nodded, his face unreadable. “So, that’s it? We caught your husband’s killer and now you're going to run away without saying a word to me? That's all it was to you? Were you using me?”

  “That's not what happened.”

  He looked as uncomfortable as I felt. “You're avoiding me, Ella. I want to know where we stand.”

  I shook my head, amazed at his candor. “I intended to come and see you before I left. You're on my list. ” I said pulling the piece of paper from my pocket and waving it at him. I had saved Gabriel and the house for last. “I was waiting until I knew what to say, but I still don’t. I didn’t use you.... Honestly, you weren’t that useful.” I joked because I didn’t know what else to do. Then I studied my hands. Gabriel didn’t come any closer to me. Finally I found some words. “Everything has changed. I
need to learn to like and trust myself, before I can seriously like and trust someone else again. Everything I believed in was a lie, I'm still rebuilding from that.”

  Gabriel nodded, but didn’t speak. I waved my hands nervously. “So I can’t tell you where we stand because I don’t know. I don’t know what you expect from me or what I can give you. Right until this moment, I wasn’t even sure you wanted anything to do with me. ”

  “I know you don’t trust me, not completely—” I could see him about to protest, but I kept going, “There were times you doubted me … at the end.”

  “Weren’t there times you doubted me?”

  “Oh yes, all the time.” I couldn’t help but to smile, though it was with a wave of sadness. I was making a mess out of this conversation. That’s why I wanted to avoid him until I had the perfect words, until I knew how to better explain myself. “What kind of relationship can we build out of death, doubt, and mistrust?”

  Deep sadness registered on his face “You’re leaving.”

  I thought about his statement for a moment, then corrected it. “No, I'm going on vacation.”

  “Afterwards?”

  “I don’t know. Anything's possible.”

  “Will you come back here?”

  I took a long look around the room, at the house, my home.

  “It would be hard to let it go,” I said wistfully. I didn’t make eye contact with Gabriel this time. Instead I walked past him to the staircase. He followed close behind.

  “Do you think it's a good idea to go up there? The house has suffered a lot of damage.”

  I chuckled. “Haven’t we all? And anyway, this house and I have finally come to an understanding.”

  “Does that mean you are staying here … at least for a while?”

  “Anything is possible,” I repeated with a smile over my shoulder. He didn’t return it. “Why did you give me your business card that night?” I asked as I walked into the master bedroom.

  “What?”

  “You’d been to my house at least a three dozen times before that. Why did you stop that night to give me your card? What changed?” The room had a lot of damage. I didn’t go in too far before I was stopped. Gabriel reached for my shoulder and turned me around.

  “Every time I came to look at your house, you were worse not better. I expected you to turn around at some point and start pulling yourself together. I've been there before, though not to that degree—I figured you needed help. Something was keeping you from letting go, but I never believed you were crazy.”

  The expression on his face became determined “I want you to come back. We can start over, go out on real dates. No murder investigations, dead husbands, or ghosts overshadowing us will be a good start, right?”

  “Murder, death and ghosts, you know exactly what a girl wants to hear.” I laughed.

  “I mean it, Ella. I'm serious. I don’t know what’s between us, but there's something and I'd like to give it a chance.”

  “Why me?”

  “You're real. You wear your feelings on the outside, you say whatever is on your mind, and you make me laugh.”

  “And you always say exactly what I want to hear. You have no idea how much that scares the hell out of me.” I paused for a moment, a million thoughts running through my head and a nervous little butterfly flapping in my stomach. “I want a normal life. Here is as good as anywhere.”

  He smiled at me looking relieved, which touched my heart and made the butterfly go insane. He leaned in. “I'm going to kiss you now,” he warned, giving me a chance to pull away, but I met him. Our lips pressed together and the butterfly in my stomach went still, drowned by the warmth that spread throughout me. Gabriel leaned his forehead against mine for a moment before he let me go.

  “What took you so long to get home? Wasn’t your therapy over at one?”

  “Why, yes it was, Detective. You’d think you do this for a living. I walked part way home with my friend, Grant, then I stopped by the cemetery and said some goodbyes.”

  “That reminds me—I forgot to tell you, I did some checking into this Grant character. There's no one at the hospital by that name, patient or doctor.”

  “You were checking up on Grant?”

  “I still have my suspicions about him. That isn’t really the point though. You know nothing about him. He isn’t even who he says he is.”

  “Maybe Grant is his middle name.”

  “Maybe.” A cool breeze came through the window and goose bumps appeared on my arms just before there was a crash in the closet. Gabriel and I looked at each other. Then without saying a word, we slowly made our way to the closet, staying close to the wall.

  The rod across the top had fallen to the floor with all of the smoke damaged clothes. I pushed the clothes aside. Where the end had fallen, a floorboard was knocked loose and sitting at an angle. I knelt down and lifted it up. Under the floorboard was a little cubbyhole with a sack in it. I gently pulled out the sack. It was very old and very dusty. Inside the sack was a journal. Embossed on the journal was a name. The embossing had faded over the years but it looked like it said “Grant Reynolds.”

  I opened the journal. Its pages were filled with old hand writing that had faded over time. Pressed inside I found a tin photo of a face I knew very well. I flipped to the end of the diary. On the last page, in the same scrawled handwriting, but in fresh, bright ink it said, “Welcome to the family.”

  -The End-

  Sneak Peek

  Dark Passing

  Book 2 Ella Reynolds Series

  Chapter One