“You thought I was being . . . what did you call it? ‘Distant’? I think, or ‘moody’?”
A muscle worked in his jaw and for a second he looked away. “I accused you of being out of it and avoiding the issues when we fought.”
“Right.” Sometimes she hadn’t even really understood what they’d been arguing about. For years she’d hidden the secret that there were times when she couldn’t account for hours of her life. “Well, it appears I really was mentally checked out. I don’t know how else to explain it. I functioned, but I couldn’t recall how I did what I did, how I got where I ended up, who I’d seen. It seems to occur when I’m stressed and last night it happened again. I know I drove here, but for the life of me I don’t remember one thing about it. Not another car. Not merging onto the freeway. No town that I passed.”
He was staring at her hard and she could almost see his mental gears meshing as pieces of the puzzle fell into place. She felt foolish for never confiding in him before, but she’d been scared that he would find her too bizarre, that he would leave her, when all along it had been she who had one foot out the door. She wouldn’t allow herself to trust him, because she couldn’t trust herself. “The truth is, Trent, I don’t even remember leaving Portland, don’t know what bridge I took, what area of town I cruised through. I just know that somehow I drove back here.” She felt tears burn behind her eyes, but she refused to cry. As a distraction she found her cup of half-drunk coffee and topped it off from the glass carafe still warming in the Mr. Coffee. Her hands trembled.
“Does anyone else know about your blackouts?”
She shook her head. Took a sip. “Well, my doctor, of course.”
“Not your mom?”
“I don’t think so. I didn’t have them as a child,” she explained, remembering. “They started after the kidnapping, when she and I were nearly killed by that psycho ten years ago. Jenna didn’t notice and I lied to cover up, and she was so upset herself, worried about me and Allie, trying to get her own head straight, deal with her own emotional damage. Carter was around, he helped, but I couldn’t tell them about the blackout
s. And they only occurred once in a while. Jenna and Carter chalked up the missing hours to me being rebellious, a secretive teenager who didn’t want her privacy invaded, so I bluffed my way through.”
“And then before anyone became suspicious or put two and two together, you took off for California.”
“The first chance I got.”
Rubbing his chin, his gaze still fastened on her, Trent said, “So when we were together, here in Falls Crossing, before you took off for California?”
“The blackouts were a big reason I had to leave. It scared the hell out of me to be so involved with you when I was barely over Josh and what happened to him. I was afraid that I was rebounding.” Sighing, she looked straight at him. “You scared me. How hard I fell for you? I didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust myself and I didn’t want you to find out. So I left.”
“And when I followed you?”
She glanced out the window to the dark clouds scudding overhead, and decided the time for secrets was over. This was it, confession time. First with Trent, then later with Detective Nash. “When I saw you in LA I wanted to avoid you. I didn’t think starting up with you again was smart, but well . . .” She smiled sadly into her cup. “I kind of find you irresistible.”
He made a sound of disbelief. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
“Maybe finding someone irresistible isn’t such a good thing. It can be dangerous.”
“I know,” he admitted. “Boy, do I know.”
Rather than stare at him and wonder if he really did feel as deeply for her, as emotionally strung out with her as she was with him, she ignored the implications, didn’t want to consider the odds of their marriage surviving. “I thought that if I left this town, where all the trauma happened, the blackouts would go away. But they didn’t. They happened in LA, too.” She sent him a quick glance. “Looks like I was wrong. Again.” A final gulp of coffee, then she tossed the dregs into the sink. “It’s getting to be a habit with me.”
He scraped back his chair to get to his feet. “This isn’t good, Cass.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
He slung an arm over her shoulder. “But it’s worse that you blacked out last night, considering that you were in Portland when Brandi Potts was killed.”
Horrified, she whispered, “You don’t believe me!”
“I do,” he said with conviction, “I do. But it’s not me you have to worry about.”
She shook her head and felt her anger ramping up again. “The police are going to think I had something to do with the poor woman’s death, aren’t they? I didn’t know Brandi Potts. Why in heaven’s name would I want to kill her or Holly or anyone!”
“Cass, I’m just telling you—”
“I get it, Trent. Truly,” she cut in bitterly. “You’re just trying to make sure I understand what’s going on here, what the cops will think, what some of the supposed circumstantial evidence suggests. They probably think I’ve got Allie stashed away somewhere. Maybe I stuffed her body in a closet . . . maybe one of yours. We’d better check.”
“You’re forgetting I’m on your side.”
“Are you?” she threw back at him. “Sometimes I wonder!” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, glared at him a second, then suddenly felt suffocated. Squeezed. Like she was in a room with no doors and the walls were slowly moving closer. “I need some air.” Without further explanation she stormed out of the kitchen, out the back door, and down the steps.
Hud was right on her heels, sneaking through the open door before it banged shut. Even the shepherd’s enthusiasm, as he bounded in front of her, did nothing to quell the storm of emotions raging inside. She stalked to the fence, her boots sinking into the soggy grass, and felt the cool air against her skin. The horses were scattered in the fields, mares with heavy bellies, tails and manes caught in the breeze as they grazed. Without a care in the world. The frigid air smelled fresh and if she closed her eyes maybe she could pretend that all this trauma would go away.