Chapter Thirty SCARLETT

Chapter Thirty

S CARLETT

Wednesday, July 17, 2024

3:30 p.m.

I drove Tiffany to her car, a small red Honda parked on a side street. Her clothes were clean and her skin a healthier pink. I feared, however, whatever good path I’d just put her on wouldn’t last.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Sure.”

“I’m going to make it to court. I’m going to do good.”

I hugged her. “I’m glad.”

I watched her slide behind the wheel and fire up the engine. I didn’t move as I watched her drive off and her little red car vanish behind a corner.

All this damage went back to Tanner. The remaining two tangible connections to Tanner were Lynn Yeats and Mike Hart. I’d start with Lynn Yeats. Next, I’d figure out what to do about Mike. Twenty minutes later, I was parked in front of Lynn’s town house.

I’d only been on the street for a few minutes. In that time several people had driven or walked by my truck. And though no one said anything, I’d been noticed.

When Lynn’s front door opened, I slid down in my seat. I watched as the woman, now dressed in jeans and a loose-fitting top, quickly got in her car and started her engine. Lynn pulled out and headed west.

I wasn’t sure what I hoped to learn from her, but she had to know more than she’d told the police. I’d been hesitant to be totally honest with them when they’d interviewed me. The detectives’ soft-spoken words had never felt totally genuine, and I found myself policing all my statements. Lynn couldn’t be that different.

I didn’t know where she was going, but wherever it was, I would find a way to cross her path, whether it was to a grocery store or a café or on a sidewalk stroll. What’s the opening someone like me can pitch to a woman like her? I’m the girl in the basement. Did you know about me? No? How did you know nothing about me?

I followed Lynn down Shore Drive, running a couple of yellow lights so I could keep pace until she pulled into the parking lot of a café. She parked by the front entrance, whereas I chose a spot in the back of the lot.

As Lynn moved inside the shop, I followed, keeping a reasonable distance. Entering the store, I watched as Lynn ordered a large cappuccino with double whip and a doughnut. As Lynn took a seat by the window, I ordered a coffee, paid with cash, and sat behind her so she couldn’t see my face.

Lynn kept her gaze on her phone, only looking up as far as the doughnut or her coffee. Several times she licked cream from her lips or wiped sugar from her fingers.

A fortysomething woman with a flushed, expectant look on her round face hurried toward Lynn. Salt-and-pepper hair was pulled back into a rushed ponytail, and her oversize T-shirt hung over jean shorts. The woman leaned in toward Lynn for a casual hug that mimicked intimacy. “Hey, girl. What’s going on?”

Lynn looked up and grinned in a sad kind of way as she stood. “Debbie, thanks for responding to the SOS. I just needed a friend and an ear to bend.”

“Of course. Let me grab a coffee and I’ll be right back.” Debbie’s voice sounded ripe with excitement, and I sensed she found Lynn’s connection to Tanner, the beautiful monster, titillating.

“Sure.”

Debbie didn’t glance in my direction as she hustled toward the register to place her order. Lynn finished her doughnut and wiped her hands clean. She was tapping her finger on the table and staring out the window as Debbie returned. “So, what’s up?”

“Been a week,” Lynn said.

“I saw the article in the paper about Scarlett Crosby. I know you saw it.” Her tone bordered on glee.

“I did.”

I didn’t dare look up, sensing old angers bubbling to the surface. “God, it must be so hard on you to go back to all that. And then the water thing.”

“It’s not been easy.”

“Do you think it was Scarlett? Is she trying to drag you back into the spotlight?”

“Why would she do that?”

“Who knows? I’m not sure she’s all that balanced after what happened to her.”

“I suppose not. And I’m sorry for her suffering.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t know what was happening. It wasn’t your fault.”

Lynn rolled her head from side to side. “I looked like a fool after Tanner was killed. People whispered about me for years. If they knew that detail and that I stayed with him after what he did, what would they say?”

“Why did you stay?” Debbie asked.

“I loved him. I would’ve done anything for him.”

Anything. Would she have killed Sandra? Or helped Tanner dispose of the body?

“It’s easy to get caught up in a guy’s world.”

My grip on my cup tightened. Something inside me told me Lynn still knew more about Tanner. Was the point of this conversation to prove to herself she’d been innocent, or was this a reverse alibi?

“This is the last thing I wanted to remember,” Lynn said. “I’ve worked hard to forget him and all that.”

“Did you ever see another girl with Tanner?” Debbie asked.

“Once. I pulled up to his house, and when he answered the door, she was standing behind him. She was a teen, really. A sad little creature.”

“Oh my God. Who was she?”

“He said she was his cousin. He called her Cindy . But I knew he was lying.”

I’d seen enough psychologists to know the truth had a way of bleeding out, even if the revelations could be destructive.

“How did you know he was lying?” Debbie asked.

“It’s the way his eye contact broke just a little. I saw that look a lot that last month.”

Had she seen Sandy or Della? Either way, she’d known he had a young girl in that house.

I blinked hard. An old anger awakened inside me, lifted its head, and looked around for a target to strike. I rose suddenly, bumping my small round table and upending my coffee. Hot brown liquid dripped off the table. I ducked my head and quickly reached for a wad of napkins to mop up the mess.

When I dared to look up, Lynn and her friend were saying their goodbyes. Hugging. Best of friends. Lynn sat back down. So I lingered, taking time to wipe up the last of the spilled coffee. I gathered up the sloppy napkins and cup and tossed them all in the trash can located directly in Lynn’s line of sight. As Lynn looked up, her gaze held mine. Surprise gave way to suspicion. Her lips pressed into a frown.

“Lynn?” I asked.

Lynn set her cup down and sat back in her chair. “Scarlett Crosby.”

I gave her credit. She wasn’t running. “I’m the girl that was locked in your boyfriend’s basement.”

Lynn reached for her purse. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

I took Debbie’s old seat and laid my hand on her arm. “It won’t take long.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

“I don’t want trouble.” I raised my voice a fraction, catching the attention of a woman passing by us. “I just have a couple of questions.”

She yanked her arm back and whispered, “I’m not answering any questions.”

“People have pretty much forgotten what Tanner did to me, and I bet they’ve forgotten you dated him. Neither one of us wants that information to land in the headlines again.”

Her frown deepened. “What’s that mean?”

I was enjoying her discomfort. “The past will stay the past if we’re both careful.”

She shoved out a sigh. “What do you want?”

“Tell me about Tanner.”

“What the hell? Why would you want to know more about him? Is this a sick game?”

“I want to understand him.”

She hugged her purse close as she leaned forward. “He was a sick fuck. That’s all you need to know.”

“I heard you talking to Debbie. Sounded like you were crazy about him.”

“You were listening?” she hissed.

“Why do you think I’m here? You’re one of my last connections to Tanner.”

“I’m not connected to him.”

A smirk yanked my lips. “Yes, you are. Forever. Just like me.”

Lynn shook her head. “I’m not playing this game.”

My fingers curled into a fist. “Did you know about me?”

“I never knew about you or anyone else,” she insisted.

“I don’t believe you,” I said.

She dropped her voice to just above a whisper. “I didn’t know anything about the basement.”

“What about Cindy? Who the hell was she?”

She sat back. “Tanner’s cousin.”

“He had no close family. You just said he was lying.”

“It was a feeling. I had no proof.” She shook her head. “You give me too much credit. I was stupid to stay with him.”

“You had to be curious about Cindy.”

“I trusted him.”

“What did she look like?” I pressed.

“I didn’t get a great look at her.” She glanced around the shop, afraid someone might be watching us.

“Don’t freak out. We’re just two women having a conversation. Nothing unusual.”

“It’s weird, you and I talking.”

Slowly I shook my head. “I stopped worrying about weird a long time ago. Tell me about the cousin.”

“She had brown curly hair and a full face. She didn’t say anything to me beyond hi . Tanner said she was passing through town and he was taking her to dinner before she left that evening.”

The description matched Della’s. “When was this?”

“Sometime in May.”

“2014?”

“Yes.”

“Did you tell Dawson about her?”

“He showed me a picture of a blond girl. She didn’t look like the cousin.”

I wasn’t in the basement then. Sandra and Della were in the house, but only Della came close to fitting this description. “Did she look like she was in distress?”

“She smiled a lot. I thought that was weird, but whatever.”

“Did Tanner ever mention Della’s name?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I read about you. You insisted there was another girl named Della. I never saw her.”

“You read about me.” Of course she had.

“I couldn’t believe what had happened. I was trying to wrap my head around his secret life.”

Or she was worried about her own public exposure? “What did the papers miss about Tanner?”

She held up a hand. “Are you trying to prove something now?”

“Lynn, I want to know who killed Sandra Taylor.”

She shook her head. “I can’t help you.”

“You were in Tanner’s house so many times. Was there any sign of other women there?”

“No! And like I told that cop today, I didn’t hear or see anything weird beyond rattling pipes. I’m so sick of telling this story.”

“You heard pipes rattling.”

She dropped her voice to a low hiss. “Rattling pipes isn’t hard evidence.”

“The pipes in the basement room were newly wrapped when I was there. Maybe to mute the sound if anyone beat on them again.”

Lynn paled. “You didn’t know that.”

“I had plenty of time to stare at them.”

She leaned toward me. “You’re stalking me.”

“Just grabbing a cup of coffee.”

Brown eyes narrowed. “Were you the asshole who came into the hospital and said my house was flooding?”

I didn’t blink. “Why would I report a fake burst pipe?”

Her gaze hardened. “You followed me from the hospital to my house.”

“Did I?”

“You’re stalking me.”

“Like I said, I’m here for the coffee.”

“Is this payback?”

I ignored her question, letting her wallow in the frustration that oozed from evasive answers. “When did you learn the truth about Tanner? Or were you and Tanner in it together? Did the box under the bed excite you?”

“What box under his bed?” The question sounded as if it had been practiced a thousand times before.

“The box where he locked Della while he made love to you. And for the record, she had curly brown hair.”

She swallowed. “Jesus. I’m not a monster.”

Had she heard or sensed something when Della was under the bed? I could have pressed, but I was on the verge of driving her out of here. “Tanner could be very charming until he wasn’t. I know that better than anyone.”

She sighed. “What do you want?”

“What did he talk about? What did he care about? You dated him. I know you two talked.”

Her back straightened, but she didn’t rise. “I don’t know. I’ve tried to forget all that.”

“Tiffany hasn’t forgotten you. She remembers you and Tanner talking all the time.” I smiled, going for friendly, not feral.

“She would have heard a bunch of stupid dating talk between us. He was sweet. He took me out to dinner and gave me flowers. He wasn’t like most guys and didn’t rush intimacy.” She looked down as if she realized what she’d said. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“No, you don’t.” I held her gaze, knowing most people were unnerved by lingering eye contact.

Fingers dug into her purse. “When he was killed by the police, I saw his picture on the news, and I called the police and told them I knew him.”

“They’d have come to you eventually.”

“Tanner was the biggest mistake of my life. I’ll never live all that down.” How many victim cards could she toss on the table?

“You knew something was wrong. You knew.”

“I did not!” Lynn stood abruptly, knocking her coffee over. “Stay the hell away from me!”

The people sitting near us looked up. Without context, they saw a pale, tall woman, fists clenched, face burnished red, glaring at me.

Lynn stalked out of the shop. I sat for several beats and then slowly rose. I glanced at a woman staring at me and smiled. “Show’s over.”

Outside, I watched as Lynn slid into her car and fired up the engine. The back tires squealed.

Fresh air swirled around me. The summer sun burned bright, cutting through the trees planted in the small patches of dirt dotting the sidewalk.

I slid behind the wheel of my truck, my hands trembling with rage. I could blame Della for my imprisonment, but in the darkest moments in that cell, she’d been more like me than anyone. She’d held me, reminded me to be brave, told me what it took to survive.

Tears welled in my eyes. If Lynn was forever Tanner’s girlfriend, I was ever the brutalized basement girl. I didn’t want to be that person anymore. I needed to find normal.

My hands were trembling when I texted Luke. Dinner tonight? Believe it or not, I can cook.

His answer wasn’t immediate, and I gave up on waiting. As I drove back to my studio, I reasoned it was probably good he hadn’t responded. I wasn’t sure what a date with Luke would prove. Besides, my studio was filled with drying prints that required preparation for tomorrow’s printing. I needed to focus now.

I’d craved normal and thought I’d found it with endless self-imposed deadlines, paintings of Della, and trying to repair the unfixable Tiffany. I thought back to the couple I’d seen walking hand in hand outside the restaurant the other night. They’d been so relaxed and comfortable with each other. Envy mingled with fear.

An hour later, I was mixing paints when Luke texted. Come over to my place tonight?

I stared at the message, half-tempted to ignore it. But this invitation was my chance at normal. My hesitation surprised me. I thought I’d leap at the idea of being with a solid guy.

I spent the next hour going back and forth with myself. If I showed up at his place, how would I react? Would I be calm, or would I freak out? Finally, tired of the worry and questions, I texted him back. Sounds great.

After a moment, he responded. Excellent. I’ll cook.