No One Knows Read online

  Josh’s face floated into her mind, his blue eyes smiling, nodding, almost as if to say, Yes, Aubrey. Go. She wanted to hold on to that image so badly, of him smiling at her, but the moment her mind reached out to grab it, it dissipated like smoke.

  Five years. Five years later, she was bumping into her future at last.

  The truth was, Chase reminded her of Josh, and tonight, she wanted to find a way to be close to him.

  She watched him watching her, nodded.

  “All right. But just one drink.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Sam’s: dark wood, gleaming brass fixtures, a long bar punctuated by comfortable stools, and wooden tables spread higgledy-piggledy throughout. It was easy to pull up a chair, gather the tables into groups for larger parties, or slip one off by its own for a twosome. Students rubbed elbows with songwriters and country music stars and Titans players and off-duty doctors and soccer moms. Just one of those Nashville things. Everyone came to this town with a dream, and ended up kaleidoscoped together into a single shifting, pulsing entity.

  As usual, the bar was packed. Aubrey didn’t particularly want to run into anyone she knew; this used to be their hangout, hers and Josh’s, and many of their friends still popped in on occasion. Of course, all of them were busy with their own lives now, raising families, and didn’t get out unless there was money for a babysitter. Date night, they called it. For a woman who’d only ever operated under the auspices of every night being date night, Aubrey worried for them. Having to schedule time with your husband to be married seemed counterproductive.

  She was a bit confused as to why Meghan suggested Sam’s, of all places, actually. But she didn’t want to worry about it too much. She was feeling reckless and slightly daring. She hadn’t so much as glanced at a man in a friendly way for the past five years, and yet here she was, about to have a drink with a stranger, one whose walk reminded her of Josh.

  The extended, unprepped run had clearly deprived her brain of necessary oxygen.

  She knew the din lessened a bit in the back. Two birds with one stone. It was quieter, and away from most of the prying eyes. She gestured for him to follow her, found a table for four in the far corner. He pulled her chair out for her. Once she was settled, he looked around.

  “Nice place. Should I go to the bar and get our drinks?” Chase asked.

  “That’s all right. Someone will be here in a minute.”

  “Okay.”

  He sat opposite her, one hand on the table, palm open, relaxed.

  What did that mean? When Josh had done that, it was an invitation for her to take his hand, where he would rub the underside of her wrist and make tingles shoot between her legs.

  They lapsed into silence. He was watching her, gauging, and she truly had no idea where to start. Or why she was here.

  She was saved by Vincenzo, one of the regular waiters. He came out of the back and saw her sitting in the corner, immediately joined them with a big grin on his perpetually tanned moon face. He pulled her to her feet and hugged her.

  “Aubrey! It’s been too long. How are you? You’re too skinny, let me get you some food.”

  “Everyone keeps trying to feed me. Really, I’m fine.”

  Vincenzo shook his head and poured on the accent. “In Italia, we like our women to have some meat on their bones.” He traced an hourglass in the air, waggling his considerable eyebrows.

  “You’re from Franklin, Vinny. Nice try.”

  He laughed and gestured inquisitively toward Chase.

  “Who’s this?”

  She was surprised at the welcoming tone—Vinny and Josh had been good friends. Apparently, everyone wanted to feed her, and see her get laid. Everyone had moved on but her.

  “Chase—um . . .”

  “Boden,” he supplied helpfully.

  God, how embarrassing. But Vinnie seemed unfazed.

  Chase put out a hand. “I’m from Chicago, actually, just here in town to see the sights. Aubrey and I have bumped into each other twice today, I figured it was a sign.”

  “He was at Frothy Joe’s. We’re just waiting for Meghan and Linda. Having a quick drink.”

  “Nice ta meetcha.” Vinny shook Chase’s hand, then moved his mother hen act back to Aubrey. “You work too much, you never come see me anymore. I see you run by sometimes.”

  “I’ll do better, I promise.”

  Chase was smiling at her. “What would you like to drink?” he asked.

  “I’ll have what you’re having.”

  Chase looked up at Vinny. “Tanqueray and tonic, with a slice of lime. Tall, if you don’t mind.” He looked back at her. “Is that okay?”

  Aubrey felt that crazy zing again. “Yes, that’s fine. My favorite, actually.”

  “That’s funny. Mine, too.”

  With his words came an easy smile. She got it now. He was playing her. Anger bubbled to the surface.

  She stood. “Chase, I’m sorry. I need to go.”

  He stood, too. “Why?” He looked genuinely confused.

  “I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. I wasn’t even supposed to work tonight. It was a lark on my part. I’ve had a very long, very bad day. It’s been a long five years, as a matter of fact. And I don’t know what Meghan told you about me, but I’m not into that. This. You. I can’t go there. So you’ll excuse me. Thanks for . . . Well, see ya.”

  She was three feet away, congratulating herself on getting out while the getting was good, when she felt his hand on her arm.

  His hand.

  Her breath left her in a whoosh.

  He turned her slowly. After a second’s resistance, she allowed herself to be maneuvered to face him.

  Those dark chocolate eyes bored into her.

  “Aubrey, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know anything about you outside of the fact that you chased me down earlier, called me Josh, then showed up at the coffee shop behind the counter when I needed a refill. For all I know, you’re stalking me.”

  He smiled, and it was crooked, the left edge of his lip quirking up—just like Josh’s—and she shut her eyes and pretended that the hand on her arm belonged to the ghost of a man she missed dreadfully. After a few moments, she opened her eyes, nodded, and let Chase lead her back in the chair.

  “Want to tell me what’s going on?” he asked.

  Vinny arrived with the drinks. She was silent until he left, took a huge long pull on the straw, felt the familiar, bitter pull of the gin. Liquid courage.

  She met Chase’s eyes again.

  “My husband . . .”

  He actually sat back in his chair. She really knew how to grab someone’s attention.

  “I didn’t know you were married.”

  How could he miss that? She glanced down at her finger. Her ring wasn’t on.

  She panicked for a moment, then remembered. She’d slipped it off before the shower like she always did after a long run, because getting soap in the grooves chafed the swollen flesh.

  And she’d forgotten to put it back on.

  Holy shit.

  She took a deep breath. Her therapist had always told her things happen for a reason.

  But her wedding ring?

  On the day he was declared dead?

  And here she was, sitting across from another man. She was a terrible person.

  “Chase, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I never leave my house without it. I know, I am a walking contradiction. Yes. I’m married. Was married. Am. He, Josh, went missing five years ago.”

  “What happened?”

  This should fix things.

  “The police think I murdered him.”

  He didn’t miss a beat. “Did you?”

  “No. But it didn’t stop them from putting me through hell.”

  “Jesus. T
hat sounds like a mystery novel.”

  She laughed humorlessly. “He disappeared the night of his best friend’s bachelor party. The courts have just declared him legally dead. Today, I mean.”

  He sat back in his chair, looking stunned. “You must be terribly upset.”

  “Yeah. I am. So you see, now isn’t really a good time for me to . . .”

  She realized she’d finished the drink. It felt good. Good to have a little buzz. Good to talk to someone. Good to get it off her chest for once, instead of holding herself together.

  Her mind said, Careful, Aubrey.

  The rest of her said, Fuck off. For once, just leave me alone.

  Too bad she couldn’t listen to her own good advice.

  “Chase, you seem like a nice guy. I don’t think you want to get rolled up in my drama. I should probably go.”

  He actually looked hurt. “When are you going to stop trying to run away from me?”

  “I can’t help it. You remind me of him.”

  “Do we look similar?”

  “Not at all. You are the exact opposite of him in many ways. But you walk alike.”

  And when you put your skin to mine, I feel like an electrical storm is surging through my body. Just like I did with him. And you’re only ever supposed to feel that with one person. That’s all it’s supposed to be. You get one chance at this in life. One. No one really gets two bites at the apple, do they?

  Chase had another half smile on his face.

  “So I walk like your dead husband. Josh.”

  “Stop using his name,” she snapped.

  “Sorry. I thought . . .”

  God, Aubrey. Extricate yourself already.

  She wanted to leave. She wanted to walk out the door. But something was holding her there. Something . . .

  “No, it’s okay. This is my problem, not yours. I’m not ready to get involved with someone.”

  He was quiet for a moment, then said, “I see.”

  Vinny brought another drink. She took a large sip. Another. Another. Her head was feeling swimmy. She felt the edges slip away, that familiar rush.

  She wasn’t an alcoholic, far from it. Just a girl who got very drunk, very quickly, off any manner of alcohol. And didn’t know when to stop.

  The second drink was gone now. She signaled Vinny for another.

  “You couldn’t possibly understand,” she said. “It doesn’t even make sense to me.”

  “Couldn’t I, Aubrey? There’s no way for me to possibly understand?”

  He took her hand. His thumb slid across the inside of her wrist. She was frozen.

  “You know he’s dead, but there’s no body. So somewhere, deep inside you, in a place you don’t ever acknowledge, there’s a tiny quivering bead of hope.”

  Whisper-soft swipes against her skin. His touch was hypnotic.

  “Yes.”

  “And you’ve been faithful to him, all these years.”

  “Yes.”

  “You were humiliated and embarrassed by the police and the press. Lost the respect of your peers, your friends, your family.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He dropped his voice, and she heard something in there, something so familiar.

  “I understand, Aubrey. I understand more than you could possibly know. You are a diamond, shining in the dark. It would be impossible for someone to leave you of their own volition.”

  His gaze was pulling her under. She felt herself slipping into the abyss. It would be so easy to get lost in those brown depths, to drown in them. She leaned forward, toward him, not sure what she intended. His face was shaped like Josh’s, but his chin was different. His eyes were, too. Honestly, he looked nothing like her husband. But there was something about him . . .

  “Hey, you two. What’s up?”

  Meghan’s cheer yanked Aubrey back into her chair, and she pulled her hand from Chase’s grip.

  “Hi, Meghan. Nothing major. We’re just chatting.” She heard the slur in her voice. Damn. She needed some water. Her head. It was so thick, so full.

  Meghan sat next to Aubrey, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “You might want to slow down there, sugar pop. Linda went home. I’m glad you’re still here. I was afraid you might have slipped off into the night.”

  “Not yet,” Chase said lightly. “We were just getting to know each other.”

  Meghan looked at the two of them closely and raised an eyebrow. “Am I interrupting?”

  Aubrey laughed. It was a high-pitched whinny, bordering on hysteria. Drunk laugh. Drunk girl. The thought made her giggle again. “Of course not. We were just talking about . . . Chase, start again. What were you saying?”

  He didn’t miss a beat, and Aubrey liked him for it. Almost as if he knew she was getting too toasted and wanted to protect her secret.

  “Like I was saying, Chicago’s had the worst winter in decades. We’ve all been freezing. The idea of some warmer weather seemed like a good one when I booked the ticket.”

  Yada yada yada. Aubrey watched his mouth move. It was a good mouth, full lipped but not overly so, just the right amount of cushion. She didn’t like kissing lipless men.

  Good God. She really was drunk.

  Meghan had a beer, dark and thick, Guinness, from the looks of it. She took a sip, and the foam gathered on her upper lip. “So you’ve just been sitting here, talking about the weather. Uh-huh. Chase, what do you do?”

  Aubrey could have sworn a cloud passed across his face. “I write freelance. Articles. Boring stuff, computers mostly. It pays the bills.” He launched into a funny a story about a jail-broken iPhone found on the L, and the tension passed.

  They talked, and talked, and talked, Chase regaling them with stories, Meghan countering with some of her tall tales. Aubrey pretended she was an ordinary woman, out for an ordinary evening, with ordinary friends. She went along for the ride, enjoyed it even, until she looked at the clock and realized it was almost one in the morning. She was more than tipsy, and exhausted, and ready to go home. After Meghan’s arrival, things had gone back to normal for her and Chase, just two people who found some common ground having a drink. Ships passing in the night.

  She stood carefully. “Guys, this has been fun, but I really have to head out. That sixteen miles is catching up with me.”

  Meghan gave her a hug. “I’m staying. I don’t need to open the store until noon tomorrow. Chase? Another?”

  “Actually, Meghan, I have to go, too. I’m supposed to fly back to Chicago in the morning. Aubrey, why don’t I walk you out?”

  He met Aubrey’s eyes. She stared back, willing herself not to get lost.

  It all flashed before her, how the night was going to go.

  They wouldn’t speak. It was almost as if words would break the spell, and they both knew it. They’d just walk out of the bar and around the corner to the parking lot behind the coffee shop, not touching but very aware of each other. The drive would take less than five minutes. He would follow her into the kitchen, and when the door was closed and the alarm set, he would pull her into his arms.

  And when his lips touched hers, she would know.

  Josh.

  The tenuous hold she had on her emotions would be broken. She’d accept his caresses and return them ravenously. They wouldn’t even make it out of the kitchen.

  Without breaking the kiss, he would simply lift her onto the counter, push her dress up and out of the way, slide off her panties, and sheath himself in one stroke. She would moan, deep in her throat, and he would answer her cry. It would be over too quickly.

  They would move to the bedroom and do it all over again. And again.

  She didn’t know how much time had passed, whether a minute or an hour. Years would have gone by too quickly. She had missed him, so much. And now he had come home.

  CHAPTER
10

  Daisy

  Today

  It was dark out, and Daisy was still on the back deck when Tom came home from work.

  He took one look at her and sat in the matching Adirondack chair. He reached a hand out and touched her knee.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Tom had a way of asking questions that Daisy didn’t know how to answer: How are you? Are you all right? Do you still love me?

  “The letter,” she said, shrugged at the paper.

  He picked it up and read, lips moving slightly as he sounded out the words. It was a tic that drove her mad sometimes.

  He finished and set the paper in his lap. He didn’t say anything, just looked out over the gardens. She waited. Tom would have some sort of platitude. Words meant to be comforting that she would hear as an indictment.

  She looked away from his face and lit a cigarette. The pack was nearly empty. Did she have more in the refrigerator? Or was this the last one?

  Five minutes passed. She felt rather than saw movement, risked a glance. Tom was crying, silently, tears rolling down his worn, lined face.

  She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to react. Josh wasn’t Tom’s son, not really, yet Tom had adopted him soon after their marriage began, had always loved him like his own, even when Josh was at his worst. She didn’t like having to share her grief with her husband. It was hers, hers alone, a tight ball of perpetually sustained energy that kept her body animated, jerking along like a zombie from day to night to day again. An internal supernova that happened one thousand eight hundred and seventy-four days earlier. One thousand eight hundred and seventy-four, not one thousand eight hundred and seventy-five, because Aubrey hadn’t told her right away.

  Sometimes Daisy was happy about that. That she’d spent one last day in ignorant bliss, not knowing that her son was most likely dead.

  And other days, days like today, she wanted to rip the little bitch’s head off for not calling immediately. What in the hell had she been thinking? No, that wasn’t the right question. What had Aubrey been doing?

  Daisy knew exactly what. Killing her son.