Scarlett still possessed the unnerving ability, and desire, to expose her weakness. She rummaged through the refrigerator and cabinets, recklessly tossing ingredients onto the countertop as she fumed.
When they were little girls, her sister had been relentless. At times, downright wicked. Darcy found Scarlett’s calm, unflappable approach to evildoing more dangerous than the evil deeds themselves. It seemed as if curiosity, not anger, compelled her to sin.
Once, as a young girl, Scarlett whispered Darcy’s name through the keyhole of her bedroom door. Darcy knocked and twisted the knob. Finding it locked, she’d dropped to her knees, peering through the keyhole into the shadowy room. Puzzled, she’d raised her head—just as a straightened coat hanger plunged through the opening, nicking her cheek.
She now pictured what childhood horrors might have befallen her, had Scarlett hit her mark. Images of trudging uphill through adolescence, not only as the homely twin, but as the homely,
one-eyed
twin, filled her head.
“
…There were these cute blonde twins, one in a bikini, and one with an eye patch…
” Cabin Creighton’s voice invaded her mind.
Her lips twitched at the absurdity of the thought.
Of course, Scarlett’s depravity wasn’t reserved for Darcy alone. As a teenager, Darcy had frantically jumped into the lake and rescued a drowning three-year-old boy while Scarlett, a trained lifeguard, watched with curious eyes from the perch of her elevated chair.
Darcy bowed her head as she recalled the little boy’s pale face and panicked eyes. She should have told. By not telling, she deprived her sister of help she desperately needed. Tears stung her eyes as she crushed crackers into ground beef and pummeled the mixture with her fist, then plopped it into a loaf pan.
A woman’s scream rent the air, sending Darcy flying from the kitchen, her fingers dripping a trail of tomato sauce.
Scarlett.
Heart sinking into her stomach, Darcy headed next door in a dead run.
The front door stood open, and Darcy plunged inside, wiping her hands on her jeans as she ran. Frantically, she flew through the dining room and into the kitchen, where she found Scarlett huddled on the floor next to the open back door.
Dropping to her knees next to her sister, Darcy tugged Scarlett’s hands away from her face. “What is it? What happened?”
Scarlett stared up at her, luminous green eyes reflecting stark terror. “He was here,” she choked out. “Oh, God. He’s found me.”
“Who was here? Who found you?”
Tugging her hands away from Darcy’s, Scarlett rose shakily to her feet and pushed the door closed. Her hair was a jumbled mess, make-up streaked, face blotchy from tears. Never in her life had Darcy seen her sister looking anything less than perfect.
“Malcolm.” A visible shudder ran over her slender frame. “My ex-boyfriend. He’s crazy—an absolute psycho. I thought I could escape him, but I guess I never will.”
“What did he do to you?” A protective sensation puffed Darcy’s chest. “We need to call the police.”
Scarlett shook her head. “He grabbed my hair and made his usual threats, but didn’t actually hurt me. When I screamed, he took off. The police won’t do anything.” She gave a bitter laugh. “I should have known he was around, although how he knew I was moving in here, I have no idea.”
“What do you mean?”
She opened her clenched fist, displaying a silver skull earring in the center of her hand. “This is his. I found it when I was cleaning up in here. I told myself I was mistaken, that it had to be some kind of coincidence. But when he showed up, I knew.”
Darcy shuddered. “He was staking out the house before you moved in? Already? But, how…”
Scarlett shrugged. “He has ways.”
“Maybe you should stay with me instead of living here alone. No telling what he’ll do.”
“No.” Scarlett’s voice sounded like someone who’d been handed a life sentence. “Doesn’t matter. Nothing will help. I’ll never be free of him.”
Chapter Three
“Come to Chickasha Lake with me Saturday,” Richard said, returning a clipboard to its slot.
“That’s kind of a given, since I’m driving you—and my boat—with my truck.” Cabin removed his lab coat and folded it neatly over his arm.
“No, I mean,
stay
at the lake with Liz and I. Spend the whole day.”
Cabin studied Richard’s face. “You want me to spend the day with you and your ‘hot lake-date.’” He raised an eyebrow. “What’s your angle?”
“Okay, okay, I’ll fess up. It’s just...I know how much you hate matchmaking.”
“Oh-no. I know where this is headed. Last time you fixed me up I had to change my cell number.” He stopped walking. “I have plans Saturday. You’re on your own. Or...maybe not. Looks like you might end up with
two
dates
“Sorry, man, it’s just that Liz is borrowing a boat dock from her teacher-friend, the one you mentioned...
Darla
...
Darlene
?” He shook his head. “Anyway, we just thought it would be fun, if—”
“Darcy?” Cabin’s gut clenched. He hadn’t been able to get her name, or face, out of his mind since her office visit last week.
“Darcy! Yeah, that’s it.” Richard held the door for Cabin as they stepped into the afternoon sunshine.
“I’ll come.” He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant as bells clanged in his head like a winning slot machine.
“Cool.” Richard grinned, walking backward through the parking lot, facing Cabin. “See you Saturday. Bright and early.”
“Later.” Cabin disarmed his red extended-cab and climbed in. He backed from the yellow lines, a grin emerging. His pulse quickened. Sliding a hand down his face, he wiped off the grin, sobering his mind. With his thirty-fourth birthday six months behind him, behaving as if he were eighteen was just plain sad.
Across the street from the nursing home, a couple laughed and ran in the park, trying to sail a kite on the breeze. He coasted into a parking space at Redbud Living Center and watched them a while, his smile returning.
“Good evening, Dr. Creighton.” The receptionist slid the sign-in sheet over the countertop. “Estelle is in good spirits today.”
Cabin signed and dated the form. “That’s nice to hear, Geraldine. I’ll try not to spoil her good mood.” He winked and crossed the lobby, greeting residents and orderlies.
“Knock-knock,” he called, tapping on Estelle’s open door.
“Come in, Cabin.” She smiled thinly.
He closed the door, then kissed her forehead. “How are you, Estelle?” He searched her black eyes... Samantha’s eyes.
“Can’t complain.” She shrugged her gaunt shoulders. “I didn’t cry today.”
Cabin gave a slow nod, his throat catching as he lowered into the bedside chair. “That’s wonderful. I’m so glad to hear it.” He took her hand gently in his. She appeared to have grown frailer over the past few days. “Samantha would be proud of you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Would she?” Her chin trembled. “Maybe she would be saddened... Maybe she would think I’d forgotten them.” A tear wet her papery cheek.
“Never.” He pulled a tissue from the box at her bedside. “She knew how much you loved her.”
“Do you still cry for her?” she asked.
He lowered his eyes to her knuckles. “I have good days and bad days.” With a pang of guilt, he noted how the time between his cries was lengthening. Thoughts of Samantha crossed his mind every day, but it had been weeks since he’d shed a tear for her.
“More good than bad?” she demanded, her lips stiffening as she raised her chin.
Cabin took a deep breath, held it, released it slowly. “I loved your daughter very much. It almost killed me when she...passed.” He gingerly massaged the old woman’s hand. “Estelle. It’s been five years.”
She glared. “Can I wrap the passage of time around my heart like a bandage?” She pulled her hand from his.
“No, I didn’t mean—”
Her nostrils flared. “I wasn’t aware there was a prescribed time of mourning for a child and grandchild. What about you, Cabin? Is five years ample time to grieve your dead wife, your dead child? Is there another woman? Have you replaced my Samantha?”
He reached for her hand.
She resisted, wincing as her misshapen fingers fought to close. With a shuddered breath, she relented, allowing him to rest his hand on her wrist.
“There is no one else. I’m sorry I upset you.” Darcy’s smile flashed through his mind like sunshine glinting off glass.
Estelle calmed as he caressed her knuckles.
“I loved Samantha, and I love you.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “That’s why I brought you to Oklahoma with me. I wanted to make sure you were taken care of.”
She closed her eyes. After a few moments, her breathing slowed, and her fingers relaxed in his grip. He kissed her hand, easing away. A single tear escaped to her pillow as he tucked the blanket around her shoulders.
“Sweet dreams, Estelle,” he whispered, switching off the light and leaving the room.
In the parking lot he pulled his cell from his jeans pocket and dialed Richard to tell him something had come up. He wouldn’t be able to spend Saturday at the lake after all.
****
“Come in!” Scarlett’s shout penetrated the closed door.
Darcy cracked it open, popping her head through the gap. “Hey, remember I’ll be down at the boat dock if you need me today.”
“Have fun. Maybe I’ll stop by a little later.”
Darcy ignored the little voice whispering through her soul like a prayer, silently begging her twin not to come. Cabin would be there. Inside, she knew if Scarlett appeared, her hopes of connecting with him would disappear beneath the weight of her sister’s shadow. “Are you going to be okay by yourself?” Darcy asked, appalled by her own selfishness. What was the matter with her? A lunatic was stalking her sister, for heaven’s sake.
“Sure. I’m fine.” Scarlett showed no signs of her earlier terror. Was it denial, or had she grown so used to the threats that the effects didn’t last long?
Darcy gazed around the room as she opened the door and stepped in. “Wow...” Scarlett’s decorator had made amazing progress. “This is beautiful!”
Scarlett shrugged while plunging artificial flowers into an expensive-looking vase. “What can I say? Charles is a genius, and he knows other geniuses, even in Podunk-Oklahoma.”
“It looks fantastic.” Darcy patted Scarlett’s back through her fitted tank top. “Well, I can see you have your hands full, so I’m going to run. Can’t wait to see it when it’s finished.”
“Ciao,” Scarlett called, resuming her attack on the silk tiger lilies.
Darcy opened the car door and tossed her bag into the passenger’s seat. She slid behind the wheel, her pounding heart stirring the front of her bathing suit cover-up.
What am I doing?
After five deep breaths, she backed from the drive, then steered onto the winding road leading to the water.
She parked in the trees beside the little shed and stepped from the car, pulling her bag out with her. Inhaling the fresh air, she listened to the water lap the shoreline, polishing red dirt into smooth glass. Constant and unchanged, the lake remained a loyal old friend, holding within its banks a lifetime of memories.
She approached the shed and reached into her tote for the key, suddenly realizing she’d given it to Liz before their plans were finalized. Plunking the bag in front of the door, she turned and walked across the grass, then stepped onto the pier. After strolling to the end, she sat, dangling her feet above the water.
Teenagers splashed in the swimming area a quarter mile down the shoreline, their laughter carrying on the breeze. The youthful voices reminded her of Stephen, her first love, the boy she’d dated throughout high school and college.
Stephen had been tragically killed in a freak accident during USAO’s graduation commencement, at age twenty-two. She wondered how her life would have turned out had he lived. The only boy who’d ever had eyes for her instead of her sister, Stephen had remained somehow impervious to Scarlett’s charms.
A feat unachievable for Darcy’s ex-husband, Wyatt, who’d left after only five months of marriage, claiming he couldn’t handle the strange feelings Scarlett stirred inside him. Feelings he’d described as an
unbearable
combination of pleasure and dread
. He was terrified, and didn’t want to cheat. So instead, he walked away.
She whipped her head toward the sound of an approaching vehicle. Liz beeped the horn of her bug and waved, barely killing the engine before hopping from the door and loping through the grass toward the dock.
“Hey, you!” Liz yelled as she leapt onto the pier, jogging toward Darcy with open arms, her halter dress dragging to her ankles.
“Hi.” Darcy rose and hugged her friend. “Where’s Richard?”
“Don’t you mean, ‘where’s
Cabin
?’” Liz jibed. “They were hooking the boat trailer to the truck when I left. They’ll be along soon.” She took a quick look over both shoulders. “By the way, your Cabin...H-O-T.”
“I wouldn’t call him,
my
Cabin,” Darcy said, dropping back down, arranging her cover-up around her thighs.
“Not
yet
,” Liz teased. “Speak of the devil...”
Darcy followed Liz’s gaze shoreward, to an approaching red truck. Her heart oscillated in her ribs like ripples around the dock. “What am I doing here?” Her eyes widened at Liz.
“It’s okay.” Liz smiled. “We’re going to have a great time.”
Darcy pressed her hand to her chest. “I think I’m having a heart attack,” she breathed.
Liz waved her arms at the truck. “Well, it’s a good thing Cabin’s a doctor.”
The truck circled, then backed the trailer onto the ramp. Richard hopped from the passenger’s side, waved to Liz, and jogged to the boat. The head of an enormous, red Irish setter replaced his in the passenger window. Richard unhooked the straps and climbed into the boat, motioning the truck back until the wheels of the trailer were submerged in water.