Wish of the Heart (2 page)

As the clock hit noon, Macie grabbed her purse and headed out of the building. Most days she brought a lunch to economize, but today she was treating herself and wanted to get to the deli before the lunchtime rush was in full swing.

Macie pulled her phone out to check her email as she waited to order. A text alert caught her eye.

Macie, I hope you are having a productive Friday.

She knew it was James before she even looked at the heading. Most of her friends weren’t so formal and used abbreviations in their texts, which sometimes were almost incomprehensible to her.

Macie placed her order and stepped to the side to wait. She debated how to respond.

Lunchtime—best time of the day next to quitting time!
 

Macie wanted to put something about the weekend—something—anything to probe his plans or maybe prompt him for an invitation, casual or otherwise.

Casual would be better and she knew it. It was horrible being stuck across from someone you weren’t clicking with for an extended dinner. Then there was guilt—about taking a person’s time but even more so about the money. She learned her lesson permanently after a guy traveled in from New Jersey and took her to an expensive new “in-spot.” It had been excruciating to sit for hours, desperately trying to break past stilted conversation about the food and restaurant decor.

Any big weekend plans?

Macie debated her response. She didn’t want it to seem like she sat at home by herself all weekend, but she also didn’t want to discourage an invitation by appearing busy.

No. I thought I might go to the park.

Macie crossed her fingers, hoping he’d ask to join her.

The counter clerk handed Macie her bag and she exited the deli, phone in hand. Macie sat in a little park between two buildings, waiting for his response. The minutes ticked by and nothing.

Macie took a bite of her sandwich, and the hot peppers exploded on her tongue. Peppers! She hadn’t asked for peppers. Her eyes watered and she searched her purse for a tissue.

That was it. She was taking charge and being bold.

Do you want to meet me in the park late Sat morning? Maybe at the fountain?
 

Barely a moment passed before his response popped onto the screen.

Sure.

~ * ~ * ~

When Macie arrived at the fountain, a man reading a newspaper sat in her usual spot. She was just superstitious enough to consider asking him to move.
Don’t be silly, Macie.
Besides, maybe that spot wasn’t such good luck, anyway. Mr. Right hadn’t shown up there yet, despite all the pennies she’d tossed in the water.

Macie seated herself on the opposite side of the fountain. Resisting the urge to check her phone, Macie closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun.

“Macie?”

Her eyes popped open and fixed on a good-looking, dark-haired man. Within seconds, her mind registered disbelief, and she slowly rose to her feet, as if in a trance. “Rylan? What are you doing here?” She hadn’t seen Rylan since her sister’s death almost two years ago. Though officially cleared in Karen’s death, he hadn’t even bothered to attend her funeral.

“We arranged this meet,” he explained. Rylan’s eyes darted around instead of meeting Macie’s gaze directly.

“What?” As the shock dissipated, anger crashed over her.

“I’m James. I mean, James is my middle name.” Rylan smiled, but it was forced.

“You deceived me,” Macie bit out.
Rylan was James, the intelligent introvert?
 

“I didn’t think you would meet me if I told you the truth,” Rylan confessed.

“You got that right.” Macie shook with the force of her anger. “Is this some sick joke?”

“No, Macie.” He reached for her.

She jerked away. “Don’t touch me.” His presence brought it all back—her sister’s murder, the grief, the suspicion. It was over a year before Macie even tried to put it behind her, realizing she might never know the truth. There were even days now and again where she didn’t think about it—didn’t picture her sister’s violent struggle to live. She’d gone from calling the police detective daily, to weekly, and finally, not at all—accepting that there might be no sense to be made of a senseless act.

Her mother never recovered from the blow, and eventually her father took her away. They lived in Florida now, her mother becoming increasingly delicate as her heartbreak never eased. As she never
allowed
it to ease.

Macie turned on her heel and stepped away, anger propelling her down the walkway.

“Macie, wait! I need to speak to you.” Rylan swore under his breath and stalked after her.

She didn’t answer. She didn’t want to hear anything Rylan had to say. Her throat was choked with grief and her eyes felt suspiciously wet.
Damn him. What did he hope to gain by this?
 

Rylan had been questioned in her sister’s death, but never charged or even held. His alibi consisted of “working late,” but Macie suspected there might have been more.
Wasn’t it always the boyfriend or the husband?
Well, not always, she conceded, but often.

Her sister’s excited voice rang in her head as she nearly broke into a run. Karen had been an upbeat, fun person. Macie tried to emulate her and always fell short. They’d been close, sharing their personal lives with one another. She knew every detail of her sister’s first date with Rylan—how’d he kissed her and asked her for a second date without making her wait by the phone.

Karen had been optimistic about her new relationship. Rylan was everything she’d been looking for—intelligent and seemingly ready for a real commitment. The fact that he was both handsome and successful was a bonus.

Macie burst out onto the sidewalk along the busy avenue, and she dodged a mother pushing a stroller. The car horns snapped her out of her daze, and she hailed a cab. She should walk, but right now she didn’t care. She wanted to get away. She had to get away, but she couldn’t escape her own thoughts which dogged her all the way back to her apartment.

~ * ~ * ~

Macie paced around her living room, her thoughts jumbled and confused. Seeing Rylan brought the pain back, sharp and fresh. She ripped off her clothing as she stalked down the hall. Turning on the shower as hot as her skin could stand, she stepped inside. The stinging needles of water hit her face, and she welcomed them. Her tears mixed with the flow and washed down the drain.

For months, Macie thought she had a handle on her grief. She’d made a conscious decision to put it all behind her. The fixation with her sister’s death had been an ever-growing cancer within her, threatening to tip her into obsession, like her mother. She’d taken back her life and convinced herself that finding justice wouldn’t bring her sister back. She thought she’d released it all. It seemed she was wrong; the wound was only scabbed over, waiting to be ripped off.

Macie turned off the water, slipped on a terry cloth robe, and flipped her soaking hair over her shoulder. Wet footprints marred the floor as she walked back to the living room.

She opened her laptop on the table. Work would take her mind off things. She would lose herself in the logical order columns of numbers provided.

A small beep signaled a new email, and without thinking, Macie clicked it open.

Rylan!

Macie gasped and choked as her eyes scanned the screen, catching words but not reading.

Everything within her screamed no! She deleted the email and shut the computer, barely resisting the urge to slam the screen down.

Chapter 3

Macie used the weekend to try to put it all behind her again—to compartmentalize her grief, expunge her anger, and forget about her contact with Rylan. By Monday, she felt more in control, though not back to normal.

Work was solace. The familiarity of the flickering fluorescent lights, the clattering photocopier, and the ringing phones distracted Macie as the seconds slid by, turning morning into afternoon.

She had dinner plans with a college friend who was in town on business. Macie didn’t feel up to it, but canceling last minute seemed rude. She wanted to see Abby. She just didn’t want to see her today.

It was like waiting for the three o’clock bell on the last day of school, but finally she could safely leave. If it was a little early, Macie didn’t care. She often stayed late, a fact she would be more than happy to point out to anyone unwise enough to comment on her departure.

Macie arrived at the restaurant well before her friend. Abby wouldn’t be coming for another thirty minutes at least. She ordered a drink and then another. When her head began to swim, she requested an appetizer. She was munching on chicken wings when Abby slid into the seat across the table.

Abby’s brow lifted as she noticed the empty glasses. “I didn’t think you were much of a drinker.”

“I’m not.” Macie bit into the chicken wing, savoring the sweetness of the honey barbecue sauce. Her head spun just enough to cloud her thinking.

Abby nodded knowingly and ordered a lemonade for herself.

Macie sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m poor company. I should leave.”

Abby reached across the table and grasped Macie’s hand. “No, stay. It’s fine.” Abby released Macie and launched into a humorous recitation of her trip. She detailed her flight, including an overly talkative seatmate, and related the trials of her long, boring meeting.

After a while, Macie’s head cleared. “I’m sorry.”
What must Abby think of her?
 

“Macie, don’t be sorry. We’re friends, right?” Abby’s soothing voice eased the tightness in Macie’s chest.

“Yes.” Macie and Abby spent many a late night together in college, drinking diet soda and hitting the books. She’d been a good friend then and an anchor for Macie when Karen died.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Abby’s sympathy invited confidences.

No
was on her lips, but she hesitated. “My sister’s boyfriend contacted me.”

“Oh. Wow.” Abby’s eyes widened.

Anger sparked in her again. “He wants something. I don’t really know what. I didn’t give him a chance to say.” Macie used a wet wipe to clean her sticky fingertips. “What would he want after all this time?”

“I don’t know, but I can’t imagine it was easy for him,” Abby said.

Macie straightened in her seat. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he was a suspect, wasn’t he? Was questioned? Had to get a lawyer? Plus, his girlfriend was killed. I don’t see him wanting to stir all that up again.”

“He might have done it. My parents think he did.” Macie’s jaw tightened.

“There was no evidence, though, was there?” Abby asked.

“He was at work. He could have slipped out.” Rylan’s alibi hadn’t been airtight, not as far as Macie was concerned. Even the investigating detective spent a very long time trying to poke holes in it.

“And the why?” Abby asked softly.

“Maybe Karen broke it off,” Macie said. Her irritation rose even though she knew Abby was being reasonable. Macie didn’t want to debate; she wanted someone to agree with her.

“Do you believe that?” Abby leaned across the table.

“I don’t know. The police ruled him out, but there was no one else.” Macie’s voice was tight. A breakup was unlikely and she knew it. She’d shared that with the police at the time. Karen would have told her if things weren’t working out, wouldn’t she?

“I’m not on his side, Macie. I don’t even know the guy.” Abby patted Macie’s hand and straightened in her seat.

“I know. I know. I just …” Macie broke off as emotion overwhelmed her.

“Just what?” Abby asked.

“I tried to put it behind me. I thought I had. I thought I’d moved on.” The meeting with Rylan proved she hadn’t made as much progress as she believed. She loved her sister and missed her terribly, but Macie didn’t want her life to be dictated by tragedy.

Abby clasped her hands. “Macie, I’m not sure such a thing would ever go away or that you should expect it to. You were close to your sister and what happened was terrible.”

Macie’s mind flashed to her sister’s funeral. Karen’s serene face as if she were only sleeping. The killing wound on her head hidden under her hair. Macie swallowed the bile that rose in her throat.

“What reason would he have to bother you?” Abby asked.

Macie pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

“Maybe you should find out,” Abby suggested.

“Maybe I should.”

~ * ~ * ~

Macie drummed her fingers on the table. She hadn’t spoken to Detective Cruz in over a year. There’d been no reason. The leads on her sister’s case went cold and then he’d retired. He’d mentioned plans for Florida, but apparently they hadn’t materialized yet. Karen’s case was shuffled to the side, to be reexamined only if there was a new development, which was a remote possibility at this point.

Seeing Rylan brought back the urgency to check on the case. When she contacted Detective Cruz, he was kind enough to meet her, even though he had no obligation to do so.

Cruz walked into the living room, a steaming coffee cup in each hand. “Do you want milk or sugar?”

“No. Black’s fine.” Macie took the proffered cup, still trying to put her thoughts in order. She inhaled the aroma, savoring the sharp smell with a hint of vanilla.

When she contacted Cruz, she hadn’t told him what she wanted, though obviously it was about her sister’s case. He’d invited her to his home, which surprised her, but she accepted readily.

His curious eyes were fixed on her, but he waited. Years on the police force had honed his patience.

There was no need to dance around, Macie decided. Cruz was as straightforward as they came and no doubt he would appreciate that quality in others.

“Rylan Vaughn contacted me,” Macie blurted out.

Cruz didn’t hide his surprise. “He did? I’d think he’d stay as far away as possible.”

Macie sat back in her chair. “I would have thought so, too.”