Unmarked Graves Page 11

  About all she could do was give him a very small nod. She guessed that any further protestations of innocence wouldn’t go over too well with him, so the best thing to do was to get the hell out of there.

  Apparently guessing at the reason for her silence, Will said, “We’ll just see ourselves out.”

  He put a hand on Rosemary’s arm, and she allowed him to guide her through the house and past the ambulance blocking the driveway. As they walked, she reached into her purse to put her sunglasses on her nose. It wasn’t really that bright out, thanks to the cloud cover overhead, but that same group of neighbors was still standing on the sidewalk and gawking at the house, and she figured she might as well hide something of her face so they couldn’t get a good look.

  At least Will didn’t try to get behind the wheel. Yes, she was shaken up, but she knew he wasn’t ready to be driving yet. They both got in their seats, and she started up the Challenger and drove a little ways down the street so she could use a convenient driveway to turn the car around. With as rattled as she was feeling right then, she knew she probably couldn’t pull off a three-point turn in an unfamiliar vehicle.

  He waited until she was back on the freeway and heading toward Pasadena before he spoke. “How are you doing?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied, making sure she kept her gaze fixed on the road ahead of her. For some reason, she felt as if she wanted to cry, which was silly, wasn’t it? After all, Caleb Lockwood hadn’t been a great guy. In fact, he’d been a lying part-demon. Why should she be crying over him?

  She didn’t want to admit to herself that the odd rush of grief she was currently experiencing could be nothing more than her way of distracting herself from the frightening possibility that she might be a murder suspect.

  The freeway blurred, and she tried to blink back the tears. It would really be the cherry on the cake of her day if she managed to get them both into an accident because she’d lost it behind the wheel.

  “Rosemary.”

  No way would she look over at Will. She had to stay focused on the freeway, on the cars around them, although the traffic was pretty light, thanks to it being in the middle of the day on a Sunday.

  His hand descended on her leg. Somehow, she could feel the warmth of his touch even through the heavy fabric of her jeans. “It’s okay to be upset,” he said quietly. “You felt something for Caleb, even if it didn’t last. Don’t beat yourself up for wanting to grieve.”

  “You don’t have to be all ministerial,” she returned, knowing even as she spoke how snotty her comment sounded. “I’m not a member of your congregation.”

  Will withdrew his hand. She risked a very quick glance over at him from the corner of her eye and saw that he didn’t look upset. In fact, he appeared more contemplative than anything else.

  “I know that,” he said. His tone was very gentle. “I wasn’t talking to you as a member of my congregation. I was talking to you as a friend.”

  For some reason, that comment didn’t reassure her very much. “Is that all I am — a friend?”

  “You know you’re much more than that to me.”

  Did she know that? Rosemary wanted to believe his words, but she didn’t have much to base them on. One real kiss and a few little pecks that might as well have been between friends. Since she didn’t know exactly the best way to respond, she lifted her shoulders but remained silent.

  Will was also quiet for a moment. When he spoke, he didn’t sound upset with her, but rather puzzled. “Have I misread you? Or do you think this isn’t the right time for us to be getting involved, considering everything else that’s going on?”

  She found her voice, knowing she needed to speak now or risk losing the little they’d already shared. “No, you didn’t misread me. As for it being the right time….” The words trailed off, and she pursed her lips, trying to think of a way to phrase what she wanted to say without it sounding horribly awkward. It wasn’t that she worried about how Will might react to a declaration of her feelings — she knew he wasn’t the sort of man who would turn tail and run at the faintest hint of actual emotions. No, mostly she just didn’t want to sound like an idiot.

  He didn’t say anything, only waited for her to continue.

  The Lake Avenue exit was coming up, so she pulled over to the right and got off the freeway. As they waited for the light at the top of the off-ramp, she gave a humorless little chuckle. “I’m not sure having this discussion right now is exactly ‘the right time.’ Can we continue this when we get back to your place?”

  “Sure,” he replied easily.

  Well, there was a little bit of a reprieve. She knew the way well enough that she didn’t need him to guide her in, and pointed the car north on Lake before turning right on the side street that would lead them to Wilson Avenue and his house. Just as she pulled into the driveway, a few drops of rain pattered onto the windshield.

  Pretty good timing, although it might have been nice if the weather had held off until they were safely inside. Rosemary got out of the car and hurried around to the passenger side, but Will had already climbed out and shut the door behind him. He held one hand up to shield his head as he fished in his pocket for his house keys with the other.

  By unspoken agreement, they both half-walked, half-ran to the porch. Just in time, too, because the rain began to fall in earnest almost as soon as they reached shelter.

  “Was it supposed to rain?” Will asked as he unlocked the door and they went inside.

  “I don’t know,” Rosemary replied. “I haven’t been paying much attention to the weather reports — I’ve been kind of occupied with other stuff the past few days.”

  He chuckled, then shut the door and engaged the deadbolt. It was only a few steps from the front door to the living room, and he sat down on the couch and leaned against the cushions, then let out a small sigh. Immediately, she went over to him and sat down as well, studying his face for any obvious signs of pain.

  Nothing there, except maybe a slightly taut look to his mouth. Nevertheless, she asked, “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine,” he said. “A little bit of a headache, nothing serious. I think all this was a bit more exertion than I’d planned for. That’s all.”

  Rosemary could well believe that. No doubt Dr. Littleton over at Glendale Adventist would have had a few choice words to say about all the running around she and Will had done that day. He probably shouldn’t have even left the house, should have spent the afternoon on the couch with his feet up and his favorite movies streaming on Netflix or Amazon Prime.

  “Let me make you some tea,” she offered, and he gave her a grateful smile — albeit one with a bit of regret mixed in.

  “I’d rather have a glass of wine.”

  So would she, but even she knew that alcohol was a no-no for someone who’d just suffered a concussion the day before. “Maybe tomorrow,” she said lightly. “We’ll just have to wait and see how you’re doing.”

  He gave a resigned nod. “All right.”

  Rosemary got up from the couch and went into the kitchen, then put the kettle on to boil. The rain had begun to come down even harder, and she frowned. While Southern California sometimes got storms in October, it was far more common to get the hot, dry Santa Ana winds than this kind of weather. Where had it come from?

  The demons sent it, she mocked herself, and went to fetch a couple of mugs from the cupboard.

  Then again, thinking about demons probably wasn’t a very good idea. Her mind went immediately to the horrible sight of Caleb’s pale, bloated body on that gurney, the face she’d once thought so handsome almost distorted beyond recognition…but not entirely. She could tell it was him, not some lookalike he’d used as a decoy to mess with her head.

  Because that would be convenient, wouldn’t it? To believe he somehow wasn’t dead, had planned all this as some sort of a trick? Rosemary wasn’t quite sure why he’d bother with such an elaborate ruse, but she’d be the first to admit that demonic thought pr
ocesses were not her area of expertise.

  She supposed an autopsy and its accompanying check of dental records would confirm beyond a doubt that he was in fact Caleb Dixon. Lockwood. Whatever. Or maybe not. Maybe Caleb and the rest of his kind were very careful to not let that sort of information be readily available. But surely he’d gone to the dentist — his teeth had been perfect.

  Just like the rest of him.

  Not his heart, though, she thought fiercely. Not his soul. Those were both as shriveled and black as those of a true demon.

  Once again, incongruous tears stung her eyes, and she gulped in a deep breath and made herself get the box of English Breakfast out of the cupboard. She realized she probably should have gone to sit with Will while the water was boiling, but she found she didn’t want to do that. Because if she was in there with him, he’d want to continue their conversation, and she still didn’t know for sure what to say to him.

  I think I’m falling in love with you and I know it’s crazy because we don’t even know each other.

  Yes, that would probably go over really well.

  She sniffled and reached up with her ring fingers to carefully press at the outer corner of each eye, blotting the tears that threatened to gather there. Why that particular trick worked, she didn’t know for sure, but it was a good way to preserve her makeup and not turn into a soggy mess.

  The water in the kettle began to boil, and she turned off the heat and poured a measure into each mug, then took a deep breath and made herself go back out to the living room. Will hadn’t moved from where he sat, although his head was angled toward the front window, the one that looked out over the street. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? If he had really overdone things, he probably would have had his head against the cushions and his eyes shut.

  At least, that was what she hoped.

  She went over to the sofa and handed Will his mug of tea. He murmured a thank-you as she sat down next to him, then lifted the mug to his lips and blew on the liquid inside.

  “So….” he said, and let the syllable trail off.

  “So,” Rosemary repeated. Her fingers tightened on the mug she held, the ceramic almost too warm against her skin. Still, she was glad of the heat, because the day had turned a lot colder than she’d expected, and the interior of the house was a little chillier than she would have liked. “I’m not even sure what to say to you.”

  “Well, the truth, hopefully.”

  Yes, she supposed that was exactly what Will would want. He wasn’t the sort of person to shy away from the truth, no matter how uncomfortable it might be.

  “I….” She stared down into her mug, but even if psychics in the past might have been able to read a person’s fortunes from the patterns formed by tea leaves at the bottom of a cup, all she had was a bag of Republic of Tea to work with, so that wasn’t going to happen. “I honestly didn’t plan for any of this to happen.”

  “Neither did I.” His tone was a little amused, and she risked a sidelong glance at him to try to get a read on his expression. The corners of his mouth had lifted slightly, but his eyes looked serious enough. “I told Michael I’d be happy to help you out if the occasion arose, but I didn’t imagine I’d find in you something I’ve been missing.”

  Yes, that was exactly how she felt about Will. Like there was some part of her that had gotten lost along the way, and she hadn’t even realized it was gone until she met him and looked into his eyes. She surprised herself by asking, “Have you ever been married?”

  He lifted his mug of tea and took a sip before replying, “No. I was engaged once.”

  Rosemary studied his expression. Once again, he looked more thoughtful than anything else, not as though he was harboring regrets over that one-time engagement. “What happened?”

  “It was a long time ago. I was just finishing up my undergraduate degree in archaeology.”

  Well, there was something new she’d just learned about him. She supposed she’d never really thought about what a minister might have majored in, had thought that he must have studied comparative religion or philosophy or something along those lines. “And…?”

  He sipped his tea again and then set the mug down on a coaster on the coffee table in front of them. Not that the table in question really required that level of protection; its surface was scratched and already marred by several rings left by careless cups and mugs in the past. Rosemary wasn’t an expert on antiques by any stretch of the imagination, but she had a feeling the table was nearly as old as the house itself.

  “I realized I had a different calling, that I wanted to go to divinity school. I applied a few places, not sure whether I would get in. Then I was accepted at Fuller Seminary here in Pasadena, and I had to break the news to Lois.”

  “She was your fiancée?”

  Will nodded. “Of course, I’d told her what I was doing, but I don’t think she really took me seriously. She thought I would stay at Boston University and get my master’s degree there, just as she planned to do. When I told her I wanted to come to California and have her come with me, well, she wasn’t very happy.”

  Pride in her home state made Rosemary wonder why Will’s former fiancée hadn’t jumped at the chance to get out of Boston. As far as she was concerned, Southern California was pretty much perfect in every way. All right, the traffic sucked and housing costs were insanely high, but the weather was great.

  Rain dripped off the eaves outside, and she mentally added, Most of the time.

  “Couldn’t Lois have gotten her master’s degree here?” she asked, deciding to leave the benefits of Southern California living out of the conversation for the time being.

  “Yes, but she didn’t want to. All her family was in Boston, and she loved it and didn’t want to leave.” Will shrugged. “I can understand that. I grew up in the area as well, and it was the only thing I knew, but I also knew I needed to go where my heart told me to go. I suggested that we try keeping things going long distance while we pursued our graduate degrees, that I’d come back to Boston after I was done here at Fuller Seminary, but she wasn’t interested in doing that. So…we broke up.”

  He spoke casually, but Rosemary thought she could detect the underlying hurt in his voice, that Lois hadn’t cared enough to try to hold their relationship together for the couple of years they’d have to be apart. Well, if this Lois person couldn’t tell how amazing Will was and how he was totally worth making some sacrifices for, then she didn’t deserve him.

  “And there wasn’t anyone after her?” Rosemary wasn’t sure she could believe that. He seemed pretty much perfect to her — handsome and smart and strong and kind — and so she thought there must have been plenty of single women in the congregation at All Saints who would have been all too eager to snap him up.

  “A few relationships. Nothing important.” He shifted on the couch so his gaze could meet hers, and a little thrill went through her body as she looked into the crystalline depths of his extraordinary eyes. “Nothing that lasted. I didn’t want anything to last. I told myself that my life, my service to my church, was enough. Now, though….”

  “Now?” Rosemary whispered.

  “Now I know I want this,” Will said, his tone low, earnest. “I think I realized it from the moment I met you, even if I didn’t want to acknowledge the way you made me feel. That probably sounds crazy, but — ”

  She didn’t let him finish. No, something inside told her to lean forward, to press her lips against his, to truly seal the connection between them in a physical way rather than simply talk about it. For the barest second, he didn’t respond, as if he was startled by the kiss, but then his mouth opened and she tasted the aromatic savor of tea on his tongue, felt the warmth of his fingers against her cheeks as he cupped her face in his hands.

  The room was so quiet that she could hear the pounding of her heart, the throb of blood in her veins. Never before had she felt so close to someone else, even though she’d been far more physically intimate with other men. There was
something extraordinary in Will’s touch, in the way his quiet strength answered the need in her soul. She drank it in, until at last she realized she needed to come up for air, if for no other reason than to process what had just happened between them.

  Her lips lifted from his, but she reached over and took his hand, wanting to make sure he knew she still wanted to feel his closeness, to sense the connection between the two of them. He squeezed her fingers and smiled.

  “You’re sure?” he asked. That was all, but she understood.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  Whatever happened, there would be no going back.

  Chapter 9

  For a long moment, they sat in silence on the couch and listened to the rain pour down outside. Will was happy for the weather, if only because it made him feel safe and sheltered in the house that had been his home for the past nine years. Maybe his was a spurious sense of safety at best, since the place wasn’t warded against demons and he had absolutely no idea what was going to come next, but for the moment, he only wanted to savor this sensation of closeness, of how wonderful it was that this amazing woman had come into his life and somehow, miraculously, wanted to share hers with him.

  Her next words, however, broke the spell. “You’re sure you want to get tangled up with someone who’s a possible murder suspect?”

  She’d spoken lightly, almost as if she was trying to make a joke, but he’d seen the fear far back in her sky-colored eyes. “I think Detective Phillips was just trying to scare you. We both know you’re innocent, and there’s absolutely no way he can prove otherwise.”

  “You say that,” she returned, “but we don’t know for sure. What if the demons killed Caleb just so they could frame me? They could have planted evidence or something — a hair, or whatever.”

  “Rosemary.” Will put his hand on hers, doing his best to somehow make her feel the reassurance flowing from him into her. “Even if they find a hair that belongs to you somewhere in the house, so what? We both already told Detective Phillips we were there checking the place for Emma, so a piece of evidence like that won’t prove anything, other than we really had been there, just as we said we were. Besides, as evil as the demons are, I’m not sure they would kill one of their own simply to complicate your life.”