Dark and Shallow Lies(21)

I take a little step back.

And I remind myself that Hart only feels the emotions. He can’t know the cause.

“But none of that means he didn’t kill her, either.” Hart’s face hardens up again. “There are things Case is hidin’. I feel that for sure.”

I have the urge to put even more space between us. Because there are things I’m hiding, too.

But having secrets doesn’t make you a murderer. Besides, whoever that was outside my window last night, it definitely wasn’t Case.

“What about a stranger? Someone we don’t even know. Maybe –”

“Nah.” Hart shakes his head. “It’s not like she disappeared from the parkin’ lot of a grocery store. What would a stranger be doin’ way down here? Way out at Li’l Pass? Late at night like that? It doesn’t make sense.”

“What about Dempsey Fontenot, then?” I ask. “What he did to Ember and Orli –”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with Dempsey Fontenot,” Hart says. “I wish you’d never brought him up. You’ve got yourself seein’ ghosts.”

“But what if –”

“For Christ’s sake. That’s ancient history.” He bring his hand down hard on the countertop, and all the little bottles rattle. “Let it go, Greycie.”

The bell jingles, and a young couple strolls into the store holding hands. I mumble, “Welcome to the Mystic Rose, gentle spirits,” and Hart moves over so he can pretend to look at the candles while I help Ian and Mandy from Lake Charles make their selections. Then I ring up their purchases – some incense, a book on wild herbs of southern Louisiana, and one of those ever-popular red carnelian sex rocks.

Awesome. I hope they get their money’s worth.

When they’re gone, Hart comes back to the counter and leans in close to me again. He reaches up to touch the little blue pearl on Elora’s chain. Rough fingertips graze the skin at the hollow of my neck, and my insides go all liquid.

“Can you get out of here?” he asks under his breath.

“Yeah,” I tell him. “Soon as Honey is done with her reading.”

He nods. “I’ll wait for you out front.”

I watch Hart disappear through the door, and I wonder what Elora would say if she were here to see the pathetic way I’m pining after her brother. Sometimes, when I was supposed to be working in the shop, we used to sneak away and hide in the tall grass out behind the storage shed. Elora and me. Bare legs entwined and fingers laced together. We’d eat peppermints stolen from Honey’s candy dish while she’d poke fun at my hopelessness when it came to boys. Occasionally I’d try to mimic the cadence of her voice, to see if I could wield that musical charm the way she did. But she’d always say I sounded like a dying goose. And then we’d both laugh until we cried.

Elora could flirt with anyone. It was the same as breathing to her. But I’ve never had that kind of easy magic.

I’ve never had any magic at all that wasn’t borrowed from her.

When I step outside ten minutes later, Hart is standing on the dock looking at something. I take a second to study him. Long legs. Strong back. Cowboy boots and faded jeans. Tight white T-shirt. Loose black curls. My girls up in Little Rock would eat him with a spoon.

But he’s different this summer. Harder, maybe. More unreachable.

He turns around to catch me staring at him, and I hurry across the boardwalk.

“Wonder what happened here.” He’s pointing at the place where the wood gave way underneath me. Somebody has put up a safety rope to keep people back.

“I almost fell in,” I tell him. “It’s all rotted.”

“Holy shit.” His eyes go wide. “You could have been killed. When? What happened?”

“Really late last night. I heard something, so I went to check it out.” The whole memory is so surreal. “And the board just –”

“Goddammit.” Out of nowhere, Hart wheels on me and wraps his fingers around my upper arms. His voice is low and tight, like a stretched rubber band. “You shouldn’t be out here late at night, Grey.” There’s something in his tone that’s half-angry and half-frightened. It reminds me of when I was a kid and Honey caught me playing with matches in the shed.

“You’re hurting me,” I say, but mostly he’s scaring me.

Hart gives me a shake. “You wanna end up like Elora? It’s not safe. Not out here. Okay?”

“Yeah.” I’ve never seen Hart like this. I’m caught off guard. “S-sure,” I stammer. “Okay.”

“I need you to listen to what I’m sayin’.” Hart relaxes his grip on me, but he doesn’t let go. “There are things out here in the dark, Greycie.” He finally releases me, and I stagger backward a step or two. He’s still got ahold of me with his eyes, though. “Dangerous things.”

I nod. “I’ll be more careful. I promise.”

“I can’t lose you, too.” Hart sits on an old wooden crate, and it’s like I’m watching him disintegrate, just like that rotten board. “Please. Greycie.” If I touched him, he’d turn to dust.

For the first time in my life, I think Hart’s about to cry. But he doesn’t. He just stares out at that wide, muddy river. And it’s a long time before he says, “She’s not coming back. You know that, right?”