Repressed (Deadly Secrets)
“Why would she—” Ethan’s brow wrinkled. He’d assumed she’d been talking to Branson, that she hadn’t wanted to say his name because she didn’t want to implicate her friend. “You think she was talking to Seth?”
“I think there’s a strong possibility. Whoever she was with at the end was someone she trusted. And you and I both think Seth Raines’s death happened within days or even hours of this Hollings woman’s disappearance. Samantha was distraught at the end of that session. It was something more than witnessing that attack on Hollings. If it was the last time she saw her brother . . . ”
Ethan’s gaze skipped over the lake again. “Then that means he was involved.”
Michael nodded. “I think it’s entirely possible that he either knew about or was a party to what happened to the Hollings woman. You said you never understood why those boys turned on him that night up at the falls. What if—”
“Oh shit.” Ethan scrambled to his feet.
“Who else was at the quarry that night?” Michael asked, standing.
“Saunders.”
“And he’s dead now. Who else?”
“Will Branson and Jeff Kellogg.”
Ethan was frantic to find Samantha and warn her.
His heart pounded hard as he pulled into the high school parking lot an hour later. He’d swung by her house first, only to find her driveway empty. Fear had nearly closed his airway as he’d driven around town in the fading light, searching for her. Until, that is, he’d passed the school and spotted her car in the lot.
He glanced at his phone, willing it to ring. Alec had dropped everything to help him but had yet to call with the information Ethan needed. Ethan knew the smart thing would be to wait and talk to Samantha after he had all the facts, but he couldn’t wait. He had to see her. He had to set at least part of this right. And, most of all, he had to make sure she didn’t go within a hundred yards of Branson or Kellogg.
He pushed the car door open and crossed to the front of the school, only to find it locked. Skirting the building, he headed for Samantha’s wing and stopped to peer through her classroom window.
His heart turned over when he spotted her seated at her desk, head bent, hand furiously moving over a paper. A lock of curly hair fell across her face, and she reached up, twirled it around her finger, then pushed it back from her flawless cheek.
Warmth spread through his chest. God, he loved her. Loved her more than anything. And in a minute she was going to hate him forever.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he lifted his hand and tapped on the glass. She sat up straight and glanced toward the window. A heartbeat passed before she dropped her pen and motioned toward the hall.
Ethan picked his way through the brush along the edge of the building and headed for the back hall entrance. Just as he reached it, the door pushed open, and Samantha’s familiar scents of lavender and warm vanilla swept over him, igniting a rush of memories of the two of them wrapped together at his house just last night.
“I’m a little surprised to see you here, Ethan.”
She was hurt. She had every reason to be. “I went by the house. You weren’t there.”
She turned back for her classroom. “After you ran off, I decided to finish some grading.”
She didn’t want to be alone at that house. He didn’t blame her. Steeling his nerves, he followed. “Where’s Grimly?”
“At home. Sleeping.” She turned into her room and crossed right to a lab station. Picking up a rag, she wiped down the counter, a nervous attempt to do anything to keep her hands busy and not look at him.
His heart pinched as he watched. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and reassure her that everything would be all right. But he couldn’t, because he had to tell her the truth. Even if it meant watching everything she felt for him harden into a cold, dark cinder, he had to finally be honest with her. It was the only way he could keep her safe.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said softly.
“It’s fine.” She lifted beakers out of the sink and placed them in the cabinet above her head.
“No, it’s not fine.” God, he hated this. “It’s not anywhere close to fine. And it’s all my fault.”
“You’re right, it’s not fine.” She moved test tubes into a rack. “It took a lot for me to open up to you, and you just ran off like it didn’t mean anything.”
“It meant everything, Samantha.”
She huffed a sound that was both exasperation and disbelief. “Well, you have a funny way of showing it.”
His heart stuttered, because she was right. “I’m in love with you.”
Her fingers stilled against the test tubes, but she didn’t look over. And he knew he deserved that too because she’d told him she loved him last night, and he hadn’t said the words back. He’d wanted to say them, felt them all the way to the depths of his soul, but something had stopped him. At the time, he’d thought it was worry over her future and what she would do when she finally sold her mother’s house. But now he knew that what had stopped him was fear. Fear that if he said the words and she found out about his past she’d run and he’d be left hurt and alone. But now there was nothing stopping him. And before he ruined this for good, he needed her to know how he truly felt.
“I am,” he went on. “Head over heels in love with you. I have been since the day you knocked me on my ass on that football field.”
She let go of the test tubes and finally turned to face him, hurt reflecting deeply in her chocolate eyes. “And you realized that today and couldn’t get away from me fast enough?”
“No.” He hated that she thought that. “I’ve known I love you for a while. I just haven’t been able to tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I was scared.”
“Of what?”
His heart cinched down so hard that pain radiated all through his body. “Of this.”
“Ethan, I don’t—”
“You changed your name, Samantha.”
“What?”
“Your name wasn’t Samantha Parker, it was Lynne Raines.”
Her brow wrinkled. “Lynne is my first name. It was my grandmother’s name. I didn’t change it, I just never went by it. Everyone has always called me by my middle name.”
“And what about Parker?”
“I . . . ” Her gaze skipped over his face in clear bewilderment. “I told you I got married in college and then quickly divorced when I realized it was a mistake.”
“You never changed your name back? Why not?”
“Because I was lazy. Because . . . ” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Having a different last name was like separating myself from everything that happened to Seth.”
Seth.
A hollow ache filled Ethan’s chest. Everything came back to Seth. Eighteen years later and Ethan’s life was still being defined by that one horrendous moment.
“If I had known Seth was your brother, Samantha, I swear to God I never would have walked into your classroom. I’d have turned around and found someone else to handle Thomas’s case.”
Unease flashed in her eyes. “What do you know about—”
Do it. Just get it out. “You never asked me why I was sent to Bennett.”
Several heartbeats passed in silence. “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”
“You never wondered? A year is a long time for a thirteen-year-old boy to spend in a detention center. Only kids who’ve gotten into serious trouble get locked up that long.”
“I—I didn’t know that.”
She gripped the counter behind her with shaking fingers, and he fought the urge to move toward her. “I don’t usually take cases this far outside Portland. I told you I agreed to work with Thomas because a judge asked me to. That was part of the truth. The whole truth is that I took this case to put the past behind me. I thought it might be therapeutic.” He drew a breath for courage. “Samantha, I used to live here.”
“Y
ou did? W-when?”
“When I was thirteen. Social services dumped me with a foster family here in Hidden Falls after I’d gotten into some trouble in the city.”
Her gaze skipped over the classroom. “I—I don’t remember you.”
“We never actually met.”
She didn’t look at him. Kept glancing over the desks. And he knew she was thinking back, trying to fit puzzle pieces together.
“I knew Seth,” he said quietly.
Her gaze shot to his, and she gripped the counter tighter. But she didn’t speak. And though it nearly killed him, he forced himself to finish what he’d started.
“He ran with a group of kids I’d started hanging out with at the rec center. They were older than I was, in high school. Back then, I thought they were cool. I just wanted to be a part of their group.”
She still didn’t say anything, just stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.
“Samantha,” he said, desperate to get the words out, “I changed my name too. After I got out of Bennett. After I was adopted. My last name wasn’t McClane. It was Coulter. James Ethan Coulter.”
For a heartbeat, she didn’t react. Didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Then her face paled, and she jerked to the side, sliding down the counter away from him. “No. That’s . . . that’s not possible.”
“Wait.” Panic rushed through him, and he stepped toward her. “Just let me explain.”
“No!” She swatted at his hands so he couldn’t touch her and stumbled backward. Tears filled her eyes as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God. Please tell me you’re joking.”
“It’s not what you think. I—”
“Not what I think? You? You’re James Coulter? Oh my God. I saw you. I was at the falls that night. I followed Seth. I saw you holding him under the water.”
“No. I jumped in to help Seth. I—”
“You lie! You had marks all over your face where he fought back.”
“The marks weren’t from Seth. My foster father tore into me because I’d been ditching school. I was late getting to the falls because of him. By the time I got there, Seth was already in trouble.”
“No.” She shook her head, her eyes wild and shimmering with tears. “That’s not right. That’s not what I remember.”
“I wouldn’t kill anyone, Samantha. I had no reason to hurt Seth. I barely knew him. He was four years older than I was. You have to believe me. It was a misunderstanding. When I saw what was happening, I ran in to help Seth, not hurt him.”
She stared at him as if she didn’t know who he was. Tears rushed down her cheeks, forming tracks on her perfect skin.
She didn’t believe him. He’d known she probably wouldn’t. But part of him had hoped the love she felt for him would be enough to make her question what she’d seen. Knowing now that it wasn’t sent burning pain straight through his heart.
She crossed the room and grasped her purse from her desk.
Panic coursed through him all over again. “Samantha, wait.”
“No. I . . . I can’t.”
“There’s more,” he called after her.
She stopped at the door, gripped the jamb, but didn’t turn.
“I think Seth knew what happened to Sandra Hollings,” he said quickly. “Your dream, the cabin . . . it all happened on the same night.”
She whipped around with horrified eyes. “How do you know? Were you there too?”
“No. God, no.” But just the fact she had to ask told him just how far she’d slipped out of his grasp. “I swear to you I wasn’t there. But I think Will Branson and Jeff Kellogg were.”
She huffed a sound of disbelief. “And I’m supposed to believe you? After everything, I’m supposed to believe that two men who have done nothing but support me and my mother the last twenty years had something to do with the Hollings disappearance?”
“Yes,” he whispered. “I would never lie to you. Samantha, you have to be careful around them. They were at the falls the night Seth died. They’re involved with the Hollings disappearance. I know it.”
“I don’t . . . ” Pain tightened her features. “I don’t know what to believe right now. I just . . . ” Shaking her head, she turned abruptly and rushed out the door. “I can’t do this.”
She was gone before he could stop her. Before he could push his legs into gear and run after her. And in the silence, his heart shattered into a million pieces beneath his ribs.
He’d lost her. Lost her forever because of one horrible night he could never change. Because of two men she thought were her friends.
His stomach twisted as his mind skipped to thoughts of Kellogg and Branson, and he pushed away from the table with a renewed sense of purpose. She might not love him anymore, but he was still determined to keep her safe. And he was willing to do whatever it took to make sure she stayed that way.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ethan’s cell buzzed just as he reached his car. One glance at the screen told him it was the call he’d been waiting for. Minutes too late. He lifted the phone to his ear. “Your timing sucks.”
“And you sound like shit,” his brother Alec said.
“Tell me something I don’t already know.” He looked around the parking lot as he slid behind the wheel. Samantha’s car was already gone. She’d probably gone home. He’d catch her there, try to talk some sense into her, try to convince her to leave Hidden Falls for good and head back to California. “What did Hunt find?”
Hunter O’Donnell, Alec’s friend, was a former Marine, now running his own PI and securities firm in Portland. The guy had connections all over the place, and when Ethan had called Alec and asked for help, O’Donnell had been at the top of his list.
“Sandra Jean Hollings . . . ” Papers rustled. “Twenty-five years old. Put on administrative leave of absence looks like roughly eighteen years ago.” He let out a low whistle. “Nice picture. Where the hell was she when we were in school? Remember Mrs. Kennedy who taught physics? Nasty. The woman smelled like Pine-Sol.”
“Alec. Focus.” Ethan reached for the pack of cigarettes he’d tossed on the dash, only to realize he’d already smoked the last one.
“Sorry. Okay, left Hidden Falls pending an investigation due to misconduct. Forwarding address listed a sister in Seattle.”
“What was the outcome of the hearing?”
“Um . . . Here it is. School board terminated her employment in early February.”
And if Samantha’s memory from the cabin was even remotely close to Seth’s death, that meant Sandra Hollings had returned to Hidden Falls in October. Eight months later.
“What kind of misconduct? Like with a student?”
“Don’t know. Hunt’s still looking for that info.”
“There’s got to be some mention of it,” Ethan said. He knew how gossip spread in a small town. “Old news clippings, complaint filed by a parent, something. It had to have gotten out. You know how the press is, even small town press.”
“Watch it,” Alec said. “Those of us in the press don’t appreciate jabs like that. And just so I don’t forget, Hunt says you owe him.”
“Irish whiskey,” Hunt hollered from somewhere behind Alec, his voice muffled.
“You hear that?” Alec asked.
Ethan frowned. “Yeah. I heard him. And you better not drink any of it. Keep going.”
“A case of Irish whiskey,” Hunt hollered. “From the old country. None of that piss-ant crap you can get in the States.”
Alec chuckled.
“What did she do after?” Ethan asked, trying to get his brother back on track.
“After getting canned? Doesn’t look like much. Can’t find any other employment records, if that’s what you mean. There are a few medical files, though. And this you’ll find interesting.”
“What?”
“Couple of bills that were never paid to the family birth center of Cascade Valley Hospital in Arlington, Washington, just north of Seattle, from August, six months after she left Hidd
en Falls.”
“She had a baby?”
“Can’t find any birth certificate or any birth record. But why else do you go to a birth center?”
Damn. “Does Hunt have an address for the sister? Maybe she can help us.”
“No luck there either. Tried it. Christie Hollings was reported missing by a neighbor about two weeks ago.”
“Fuck.” Ethan ran a hand over his head.
“Yeah. Convenient, if you ask me.”
“What about the others?”
Papers rustled again. “Jefferson Davis Kellogg. Man, the guy just sounds slimy.”
“He’s a politician.”
“Ah. That explains it. I knew I’d heard that name before. Let’s see. Thirty-four years old, graduated with top honors from Willamette University, went to law school at Harvard. Straight-A student. President of the debate team. Varsity letter in tennis. I bet this guy’s real fun on a Friday night?”
“What else?” Looking through Kellogg’s transcripts wasn’t helping the situation, and it didn’t give Ethan any solid info to warn Samantha.
“Guy’s clean as a whistle. Seriously. Too clean. No rowdy college behavior, no jilted lovers. It’s almost as if someone’s wiped his record spic ’n span.”
That didn’t surprise Ethan. He ran a hand over his face.
“Only thing that even raises a flag at all is his lightning-quick Vegas marriage to one Margaret Wilcox. No preannounced engagement. And judging from his family’s well-to-do political status and Wilcox’s shady upbringing, that couldn’t have gone over well. Shotgun wedding?”
“No. Margaret didn’t strike me as someone who’d get herself into trouble like that. I don’t think he married her because she was pregnant.”
“Blackmail?”
“Possibly.” Though most people didn’t blackmail others into marriage. In this case, though, it made a sick sort of sense. “What else?”
“Speaking of the dead. Margaret Anne Wilcox. Thirty-three years old, grew up in Hidden Falls. Was raised by her grandmother in a trailer park on the south side of town. Smart chick—got a scholarship to Portland State. Was working as an administrator at a high school in the city when she up and eloped with Kellogg.”