Missing Pieces(31)

His expression softened and he rose from the chair and joined Sarah on the sofa.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “I messed up.”

“No, Jack,” Sarah said angrily, her eyes burning with hot tears. “Messing up is forgetting a birthday or anniversary. This is so much worse.”

“I know, I know.” Jack reached for her hand, but she pulled away. There was no way, she thought, that she was going to let Jack off so easily. “Please look at me,” he pleaded. Unwillingly, Sarah met his eyes. “Before I met you, I never thought I would get married and have kids. I never let anyone in. I didn’t get close to anyone.”

“But you didn’t let me in,” Sarah protested. “You made up this entire fictional history for yourself. How much could you have really loved me if you couldn’t tell me the truth about your parents?”

“I did love you. I do love you. More than anything. That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

“That makes absolutely no sense.” Sarah pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes.

“Sarah, would you have seriously considered marrying me if you knew that my dad murdered my mother and that he could still be out there?”

“You really think that little of me? You think that I’m so shallow that I couldn’t see past all the things that I love about you because of something your father did?”

Jack shrugged helplessly. “I was afraid of losing you. If I could go back and change it, I would. I would have told you everything.”

“Is there anything else?” Sarah asked. “Anything you’re not telling me?”

“No, nothing,” Jack assured her. “I swear.”

“I mean it, Jack, if there’s anything else I need to know, tell me now.”

“Sarah, I promise you, there’s nothing else.” He pulled Sarah close to him and this time Sarah didn’t pull away. She wanted to melt into his arms, but something didn’t allow her to surrender fully.

“I’m going up to bed,” she told him tiredly as she broke the embrace.

“I’ll be up in a few minutes,” Jack told her. He brushed his fingers against her cheek. “I love you, Sarah,” he murmured, and kissed her softly on the lips.

“I love you, too,” she answered, not quite able to meet his eyes. She trudged up the stairs to the bedroom that Jack had slept in when he was fifteen years old. She was struck at how only twenty-four hours in Penny Gate had aged her husband. What was it Amy had said about the town when they were at the hospital? People who stay around here too long either die or go crazy.

Sarah crawled into bed, willing her brain to still itself. So many emotions were pummeling her: anger, fear, confusion. On some level she wanted so badly to return to the blind trust she once had in Jack, but she now knew that unshakable confidence was gone forever. Had he really just been a young man who was afraid of losing Sarah because of the actions of his father? Sarah wasn’t fully convinced.





8

SARAH AWOKE EARLY the next morning disoriented, not sure where she was. She thought she heard something, a light knocking, but she wasn’t sure from where it was coming. Beside her Jack slept. She rolled over in bed and reached for her phone, checking to see if either of the girls had called or left a text. They hadn’t. She clicked on her mail icon and immediately an email from someone named Seller85 stood out from the rest with an odd subject line: “Two blind mice.” She touched the email to open it.

Dear Astrid,

Two blind mice.

Iron

Cold and Hard.

A whore in a yellow dress.

See how they run?

She recalled the similar email she had received yesterday. Three blind mice, she remembered it had read. It was odd, she thought, but she was used to getting bizarre emails from readers. She deleted the email, thinking that she’d certainly received worse.

The tapping resumed, a hollow metronome that would pause for a moment and then continue.

“Jack,” she whispered. He was sleeping so soundly, so peacefully, splayed on his stomach, his breath rising in slow, even intervals.

Now she eased from the bed, careful not to wake him, quickly dressed and closed the bedroom door behind her with a soft click. The door to Hal’s bedroom was also shut. It was still dark out and the house had that quiet, settled feeling before the hum of the day began.

The knocking continued as she made her way down the steps. Someone was at the front door. She checked the clock on the living room wall. Barely 6:00 a.m. Who could be here at this time of day? She flipped on the porch light and peeked through the small glass pane in the door. It was Sheriff Gilmore and two other men dressed in deputy uniforms.

Sarah opened the door and saw the grave look on Gilmore’s face. Sarah felt the breath squeeze from her lungs. “Is it Amy?” she asked. “Is she okay?” Two stone-faced deputies flanked Gilmore. Sarah recognized one as the deputy who had been at Amy’s home the day before.

“Amy is being questioned in connection with the murder of her aunt. So no, I can’t say that things are fine. I’m afraid we’re here on not-so-pleasant business. I need to talk to Hal and Jack. May we come in?” Gilmore removed his hat.

Sarah glanced behind her to the still-darkened house. “Can’t you come back a little later? Hal and Jack are still sleeping. They’re exhausted.”