Sometime Yesterday Read online

  She turned and saw a two-by-four leaning against the pillar. She quietly picked it up and pulled it behind her head. She advanced to Richard’s back while her pulse increased double-time. She felt she would only get one good shot. When she was directly behind him, she swung with all her strength, only to find herself on the floor, having spun a three-sixty, right through his visage.

  She ran that around in her mind for a second, even while her hip hurt from the landing, she hadn’t even touched him. The only conclusion she could come to was it must be that she couldn’t change the past. These events had already happened, and no matter what she did or what she attempted to do, it could have no bearing on history.

  From her position on the floor, Natalie could see blood running down the side of his neck soaking into the collar of his white shirt to mix with the sweat from his exertion.

  Natalie’s heart broke for Sarah, but she couldn’t help or save her, not even while she was seemingly trapped here in this loop of the past.

  *

  Van kept busy after the rain stopped trying to keep her uneasy feelings at bay. But no matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to shake the sensation that she was being watched.

  She finished stocking some new inventory and then spent some time pacing her office, willing Natalie to call. Hell with it, she thought. There was no sense in forcing herself to stay until the nursery closed.

  In fifteen minutes, she was on the road home. Natalie’s car wasn’t in the driveway and the anticipation and hope she carefully built over her nervous stomach plummeted.

  There was no note. Van searched the house twice, feeling the emptiness of the rooms increase with each pass through them. Natalie’s unique scent lingered in the air, almost mocking her. She couldn’t think of a single reason why Natalie would have left without saying good-bye. She sat at the kitchen table and her gaze wandered over to the trash can in the corner. Inside it was a swatch of blue that made her curious enough to investigate. She found one of her shirts hanging half in and half out of the garbage. Van was certain it was the shirt Natalie had been wearing that morning.

  *

  Richard finished raking the dirt and stepped through Natalie. Still curled on the floor, she watched him go to the stairs and waited for the door to slam. It felt like she’d been stuck in this dream forever. It certainly seemed like she was awake. The cement floor was cold under her body and her palm stung where a wood splinter pierced her flesh. She wondered how long she had been out. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore; she crawled over to the fresh dirt she knew Sarah was imprisoned under. She hesitantly stretched out a hand and touched the mound. Her heart skipped when her hand passed right through it. Did she dare?

  She had a weird flash of Alice falling through the rabbit hole, but she had to find out. Natalie took a deep breath and fell…into the small cellar where by the light of a stubby candle she saw a bedraggled figure huddled against the dirt wall. Natalie crossed to her on her hands and knees. Please no, she thought. Please. Dark, matted hair covered her face, but Natalie knew who it was. She pulled Sarah’s head into her lap to look at her, only momentarily surprised she could make physical contact. She was aware of wetness seeping into her jeans, and her stomach heaved when she realized it was Sarah’s blood. Natalie’s heart cracked and she felt grief start to bloom in the fissure. Small at first, it grew with each tear that fell; until she was sobbing and rocking Sarah’s body as if to comfort them both. Natalie wasn’t sure if it was her grief or Beth’s or maybe a combination of both. The sound of her keening filled the small dirt space with sorrow.

  Natalie gently pulled Sarah’s hair away from her battered face, placing a soft kiss on her forehead to say good-bye. It wasn’t until she turned her lifeless body over that she saw the broken tines of a silver fork sticking out of Sarah’s chest. Oh, baby, he killed you with your own weapon? Natalie was fiercely glad that Sarah stabbed him first. Hate bubbled in her veins and continued to heat her blood until it reached the top of her head, where she felt it become almost palpable in the small space.

  She crawled a few feet away from Sarah and stood, taking note of the blood she wore. Natalie was enraged, threw her head back, and screamed. “Richard! I’m coming for you, you son of a bitch!”

  *

  Van’s head was resting on her folded arms when the phone on the counter rang causing her to jump. “Sweet Jesus!”

  She rapped her shin against the barstool, fumbling the receiver. “Ouch! What?” She snapped into the phone then realized it could be Natalie and softened her tone. “Natalie?” There was a pause on the line then what sounded like a sigh of resignation.

  Van held the receiver tighter to her ear while she tried to rub her bruised shin. “Honey?”

  “You used to call me that.”

  Crap. “Candy.” The night they were all out at Miss Apples, Van had tried to ignore her blatant advances. She was pretty sure she had made herself clear that she wasn’t interested, so why was she calling? “What’s going on?”

  “Is the redhead still there? Or is it safe to come over now?”

  “What are you talking about? What do you mean is the redhead still here?”

  “The one you apparently dumped me for.”

  “What? I didn’t dump you, Candy. We weren’t in a relationship, and you know it.” Van knew her well enough to know it was simply her pride that was hurt. She had probably soothed that injured ego with at least three others since Van.

  “True.” Candy laughed. “But I miss you, baby. Get rid of the old lady and I’ll come back.”

  Puzzle pieces came together for Van. Back. No note saying she was going anywhere, no answer to any of her calls, shirt in the garbage. “Did you come over earlier?” Oh, poor Natalie. She could just imagine how Candy acted; the girl was so full of herself. Panic started simmering in her belly. “Candy, what did you say to her?”

  “Oh, come on, does it matter? Whatever. What time should I be there? Got some bubbly and a new red negligee.”

  “Goddamn it, Candy.” Van pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to rein in her temper. Had she really spent time with someone so shallow?

  “Well, you don’t have to be rude about it. You know what? Keep her, Van. Yours isn’t the only phone number I have. It isn’t even at the top of my list. Just don’t expect me to come running the next time you’re crying in your beer.”

  Candy hung up on her. Van waited for the dial tone and dialed Natalie’s house then cell phone to listen to the now familiar never-ending ringing. “Damn it!” She only needed to talk to her, to explain. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but she felt guilty anyway.

  Van grabbed her keys and raced for the driveway. She had to find her.

  *

  Natalie’s primal scream pulled her into a spinning vortex where sight and sounds sped by in an instant.

  “Stop hitting my mommy!”

  Natalie was still dizzy, but she clearly heard the little tearful voice. Henry? Turning toward the sound, she saw a small boy running. He threw himself on Richard’s back and began to beat his tiny fists on his head. Richard stood from his crouch with the little boy still attached.

  Beth lay on her back on the floor. She reached out a shaky hand, pleading with Richard. “Please don’t hurt him. He’s just a little boy.”

  He roared for the nanny. She came running out of the nursery with her little white hat askew. When she reached them, Richard plucked Henry off his back and thrust him at her.

  “Mommy’s been bad, and I have to punish her.”

  Henry reached out his little arms to his mother. “Come with me, Mama.”

  “Go with Nanny, Henry. Mama will be in later to tuck you in.”

  Natalie watched the boy being led quickly down the hallway, but he kept looking over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off his mother.

  Beth painfully tried to get her knees underneath her. She hung her head and Natalie watched bright red spots drop onto the hardwood floor. Richard yanked her to her fee
t by her hair. “You will not turn my son against me.” He shook her.

  “You do that all on your own, Richard.” Beth’s eyes were dry and her face calm while she spoke freely. “It is you and your actions that breed the hate in this house.”

  Natalie watched her stand straight and tall. “You will die alone and unloved, haunted by your evil deeds.” Beth’s expression seemed to shoot fire at Richard, and in an act of complete never-seen-before defiance, she spit her blood into his face.

  Richard tilted his head to the side, staring at her blankly until his mouth split into an evil grin. He laughed, big, rolling bellows, and slapped the sides of his legs. Suddenly, he stopped, the smile disappeared, and his cold eyes looked calculating. “Sarah asked for you.” He pulled something out of his coat pocket.

  Beth’s face radiated with desperate hope. “Sarah?”

  “Right before…” He leaned in and grabbed her by the back of the neck and hissed in her ear, “I killed her.” He threw a lock of long brown hair at her.

  “What did you just say?” Beth shook her head and crossed her arms over her stomach.

  Richard started steering her toward the bedroom. “Conversation is over.”

  “No!” Screams bubbled out of Beth’s throat. One after the other, the shrieks of denial rang through the hallways and echoed back. “You bastard!”

  Richard backhanded her in an effort to silence her, but it had no effect. Beth tore into him with her nails and teeth. He grunted in surprise but quickly overpowered her and threw her back onto the floor, then stood over her prone body.

  Beth lay on her back for a few moments before slowly and painfully getting back on her feet. She threw her head back and screamed one last time then went eerily silent. Her cheek was rapidly swelling and Natalie could see the blood that pooled in the corners of her mouth. Beth looked utterly calm. She looked in the direction her son had gone and pressed her fingers to lips, blowing a gentle kiss.

  “Sarah never left me.” Beth pressed herself against the wall, took a deep breath, picked up the hem of her dress, and in three strides, threw herself over the balcony in a swan dive, still clutching the lock of Sarah’s hair.

  Richard loped down the stairs, whistling under his breath. Natalie rushed to the railing, horrified to see Beth crumpled and broken in the foyer, blood already pooling beneath her body. When she saw Richard unceremoniously grab Beth under her arms and drag her to the front door, her knees buckled and she fell to the floor.

  *

  Van drove for an hour and a half along the coast before she came to her senses and stopped on the side of the Interstate. What would she do when she reached the gallery Natalie was headed to? It was simple enough to find the address, but it would be the middle of the night by the time she got there. Was she going to sit outside until it opened? She had no idea where Natalie would be staying and couldn’t reach Mary to ask.

  Van pounded her steering wheel, frustrated that she’d have to turn around and wait. Patience was not one of her virtues, especially when she felt she needed to fix something. Her stomach twisted when she thought of how hurt Natalie must have felt when Candy showed up at the house.

  She wondered if it was karma for the way she’d casually used and discarded women in the past. Yes, she was honest and told them upfront she wasn’t interested in a relationship, but deep down, she knew that she’d hurt a few along the way. Van had justified and rationalized her behavior for years, using her grief as a weapon and excuse for her actions. She hadn’t considered anyone else’s feelings but her own.

  Van turned her truck around at the next rest stop and headed home with guilt and shame riding shotgun beside her.

  *

  Natalie raised her head and realized that she had been sleeping at the kitchen table. She looked around—her own table, in her own time, thank God. Her back was stiff and her neck hurt. A fire burned in the hearth, but she knew she hadn’t started one.

  “Look at you. You’re pathetic. You’re an unnatural bitch just like those two whores.”

  Natalie whipped her body toward the sound of his voice. She instantly felt her temper snap, her hate dismissing the fear that threatened to close her throat. “Well, Gramps, you’re a sadistic, murdering asshole.”

  Richard’s red eyes bored into her and he let out a short bark of laughter. “They deserved it. Didn’t or wouldn’t know their place at a man’s feet.”

  Natalie was exhausted and just wanted all of this to be over. “What is it that you want? Why don’t you just stay dead and rot in hell where you belong?” He snapped his fingers and the fire went out, leaving the kitchen in total darkness. Natalie felt her heart jump then stutter before it began speeding. She strained to hear any sounds coming from the corner where she last saw Richard.

  Pain exploded into white light when she felt the blow hit the side of her head.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Natalie woke up slowly, aware she had a bitch of a headache. Fucker hit her! Then she remembered witnessing both Beth’s and Sarah’s deaths and was overwhelmed with a sadness that made breathing difficult.

  When she opened her eyes it was pitch-black and she started to panic when she couldn’t see her hands in front of her face. She tried to sit only to hit her head and fall back.

  What the—

  She reached again and after a quick inspection, she was terrified to find she was trapped, and began to pound her fists on the wood, screaming for someone to let her out.

  The fall hadn’t killed Beth; Richard must have buried her alive. Natalie gasped, in her mind, the air was already gone and she started to choke. Natalie could smell the wet earth outside the box, could feel the splinters under her nails as she desperately tried to claw her way out of this vividly real nightmare. She kicked her feet and fought the space until the lack of oxygen affected her motor skills, slowing her down until finally, she lay still.

  *

  Van slammed back into her own house with a bang. After driving for three hours on her impulsive tangent, she’d parked outside Natalie’s and stared at the dark windows and empty driveway for another forty-five minutes.

  When had she become this irrational? Natalie had just come into her life, but Van was close enough to yesterday’s memories of her cardboard half-life, that the thought of losing her already scared her. Telling herself it was all a simple misunderstanding didn’t help smooth her agitation so she paced the floors until finally, some time later, she sat on the couch and willed the phone to ring.

  When dawn broke and the early orange light filled her living room, Van realized she’d fallen asleep. After she started the coffee, she checked both of her phones, but there was no call from Natalie on either.

  Anger started to burn under the hurt she was feeling. Since when did she put up with this shit? Van liked never having to explain herself; she did what she wanted, when she wanted. The hell with it, she thought. Natalie was off on a jealous huff on only another woman’s word? How high school was that? It was an ugly reminder of why she avoided relationships. They didn’t do anything but hurt in the end.

  Van would work with the scheduled crew at Natalie’s today so they could finish the job and she could get on with her life, without complications.

  Such as it was.

  Van was the first to arrive at Natalie’s and immediately grabbed a shovel to dig out an area for the new fountain where the old one once stood. Maybe she could finish installing it before she arrived home and Van wouldn’t have to see her at all. Hell with it, she didn’t owe her any explanations, she hadn’t done anything wrong.

  The longer Van was there the more uneasy she became and she shivered in the early morning air. Van began digging in an effort to get her blood pumping. The physical labor warmed her but left her mind free to run. Who did Natalie think she was anyway, sneaking past her defenses? She didn’t need her, Van didn’t need anyone, she’d made certain of it.

  She stomped the shovel into the dirt and the memory of Natalie crying in the rain came fo
rward and hit her in the stomach. Just who was she trying to convince? She loved Natalie and would beg on her knees if she had to in order to get Natalie to listen. Van dug faster out of pure frustration, willing herself to work harder, not to think, and especially—not feel.

  When her crew arrived, Van directed them to the trees that still needed trimming along the drive and various areas that needed prep work for the new plants and new sod that was to be arriving later in the afternoon.

  Rick jumped in with her and they continued to dig until her back muscles screamed with the effort she used to swing her shovel. An hour later, he called “uncle” over his shoulder and climbed out of the hole.

  “Christ, we digging to China or what?”

  Van looked around. She had been so focused she hadn’t realized how deep they were. She pulled herself up beside him and they trailed their legs into the space, resting for a minute.

  She cast an eye over to the fountain. Five feet across, the bowl was shiny black granite with fluted edges. Rising from the center was a thick black stem, and at the top, three beautiful irises in full bloom from which streams of water would arc in graceful curves and return to the center. Natalie would love it. Please come home.

  One of the guys came by and threw a couple of water bottles at them. Van took a long drink from the bottle and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Her critical eye found an uneven patch in the hole; she wanted the dirt perfectly level for the large granite base.