Dances Under the Harvest Moon (Heartache, TN 3) Read online

  “This is about J.D., isn’t it?” Bailey persisted, catching up to her and falling in step as she race-walked for the bathroom.

  “Are you on a scouting mission for him?” Megan shoved at the door to the girls’ room. She took one look at her face in the mirror and swore. Mascara ran down her cheeks.

  “No. Megan, I’m scared of him, and I know you must be, too. Is that why the cop is here?” Bailey twirled the handle on the paper-towel dispenser until a long roll of brown toweling came out. Tearing it off, she thrust it at Megan. “Splash cold water on your face. Want me to hold your stuff?”

  Bailey set her backpack on the floor and took a math textbook out of Megan’s arms. She placed it on top of her bag.

  She hadn’t even remembered she’d been holding a book. And she was way too upset to make sense of whatever Bailey said. It was as if she watched her mouth move but couldn’t get the words to compute.

  “How do you know there’s a cop here?” Megan tucked the paper towels under one arm while she bent over a sink.

  “The whole school saw the police cruiser out front when the last bell rang. Most kids were guessing Jimmy Rigby got in another fight, but I remembered you got called down to the office and I kind of wondered.”

  Megan splashed cold water on her face, rubbing at the black marks on her cheeks. “What?” she asked through the barrier of water and hands. “You wondered what?”

  How the hell would Bailey know what was going on unless she’d had something to do with that website?

  Megan straightened. Dried off her face.

  “I don’t know. I got a sick feeling in my gut. J.D. called me late last night after the game, talking all crazy and accusing me of telling you—” Bailey shook her head and covered her face with her palms.

  Megan blinked. “What happened to you?” Bailey’s hands were covered in bruises.

  “Nothing.” She shoved her fists in the pockets of her jean jacket. “And I couldn’t understand what J.D. was ranting about last night, but I’m scared of him, and I know he’s got anger problems or something. I don’t know what happened between you two, but if you need me to tell the cops he’s a raging maniac, I will. He’s just as whacked out as his father. They both creep me out.”

  Some of the fury in Megan simmered down as she tried to focus on what Bailey was saying. What did J.D.’s dad have to do with anything?

  “If you think he’s such a raging maniac, why did you go out with him while he and I were still dating?” It was a stupid point that shouldn’t matter since Megan now officially hated J.D.

  But whereas J.D. was no longer important to her, there was the smallest chance Bailey still could be.

  A very, very small chance.

  “I never wanted to go out with him. My mom kept shoving me at him for reasons I still don’t understand, although I think it has something to do with a business deal she has going on with J.D.’s pervy dad who’s always looking at me.” Bailey shook her head, perfect blond hair swaying as she moved. “I don’t know. Mom says he’s harmless, but she’s always working an angle. She kept giving me messages to give to J.D. to give to his dad—appointment times for something he was helping her with for the opening of the new store. I told her to email him instead, but she kept insisting good business was built on personal relationships.”

  Ewww. Megan debated telling Bailey that her mother had probably been trying to hook up with Mr. Covington back then. And she’d obviously succeeded, based on what she and Wade had seen at the ball field.

  “So you were talking to J.D. behind my back to help out your mom?” She was not buying it.

  But then Megan thought of the bruises on the girl’s hands. Bailey might be a liar and a backstabber, but she sure didn’t deserve to be frightened of the boy she dated.

  Or his pervy father.

  Bailey swiped at her eyes. “I didn’t mean to do it behind your back. I didn’t think much of it. But then J.D. kept flirting with me, and I knew he was trying to make it look like I liked him or something. I figured it was just some dumb act for his friends.”

  “So why didn’t you tell me?” Megan hit the hand dryer, mostly for white noise in case anyone was out in the hallway.

  “Because the next thing I knew, J.D. told everyone we were dating. You stopped speaking to me and hung up on me when I called you. My mother told my father I was dating J.D., and started using me as a cover to have an affair with J.D.’s slimeball father.” Bailey scraped her hair off her face in impatience, her voice cracking, making Megan realize she knew the score about her mom. “So I hit a point in this whole nightmare where I stopped thinking about your feelings. And it was right about the time J.D. started being a power-tripping son of a bitch to me. But I’m past caring what my mom says or what J.D. threatens. If there are cops here asking questions about J. D. Covington, then I want in. Or at the very least, I want to back you up, whether you want my help or not.”

  Tears trickled down Bailey’s cheeks. Megan’s understanding of the last few months shifted, the pieces falling into new places that were—impossibly—even more horrible than she’d first thought. J.D. was a bully. Possibly a stalker.

  His father was a cheater. And maybe worse, if Bailey’s slimeball radar was functioning properly.

  Silently, Megan cranked the handle on the paper-towel dispenser until a long sheet emerged. She ripped it off and pointed to the sink.

  “You’d better splash some water on your face, Bailey.” She thrust the crinkling brown paper at her. “Then we’ll go back in there together.”

  “I never thought I’d be the kind of girl who would let a guy walk all over her.” Bailey didn’t move toward the sink. Tears slid down her cheeks faster. “But he got a picture of me. I don’t know how. And he said he’d tell everyone that—”

  Yeah. Megan knew where this was going.

  “It’s probably not even you.” Unable to hold on to her old grudge anymore, she slid an arm around Bailey’s waist. “He Photoshops that stuff.”

  “Did he do that to you?” Bailey sniffed and blew her nose on the paper towels. “I keep getting creepy notes from him online and then he pretends he didn’t send them.”

  Kind of like his reaction when Megan accused him of posting the site. Something was off here. Really, really off.

  “The photos are just the beginning.” Megan didn’t like seeing Bailey so upset. Another girl who’d been privately going through hell and not letting anyone know.

  For some reason—standing outside of herself and being able to see someone else doing what Megan had been doing—made her appreciate how dumb it was to keep silent and let this asshat terrorize them.

  And at least Megan’s father was going to go ballistic over the crap J.D. was trying to pull. It sounded like Bailey’s mother had thrown her to the wolves.

  The girls’ room door shot open suddenly, startling both of them.

  Linda Marquette, with her gray suit and shiny badge, stood in the doorway.

  “Megan, we need you back in the guidance office so we can finish up.”

  “Remember you said I could have a friend sit in the meeting with me?” Megan cleared her throat and gave Bailey a poke in the hip where she still held on to her. “I want Bailey with me.”

  “Nice.” The lady cop smiled warmly and didn’t comment on the tearful scene. She dug in her pocket and jingled some change. “I’ll grab a third soda and meet you in there.”

  She backed out of the restroom, leaving Megan and Bailey alone again.

  “She seems okay.” Bailey splashed cold water on her face.

  “She seems like she’ll make sure J.D. gets what’s coming to him,” Megan corrected her.

  But a part of her wondered if J.D. was totally to blame for harassing her. If he’d sent the text messages, wouldn’t he have admitted it last night?

&n
bsp; “My mom is going to kill me for this.” Bailey dried off her face.

  “It’s not her getting bullied, though, is it?” Megan picked up Bailey’s backpack and handed it to her. “Besides, only seven months to graduation and we can ditch this town and everyone in it.”

  “It’s become my daily mantra,” Bailey grumbled. “Until then, maybe if we stick together, we can keep J.D. from ruining our lives.”

  Stick together. The words echoed inside Megan’s head as they left the bathroom and headed for the guidance office. She hadn’t realized until today how much she needed a friend. Not her dad. Not gamer buddies. Not even Wade. But a true friend.

  “If anything,” Megan whispered as they walked past the Spanish classrooms. “We can probably keep him from ruining our friendship.”

  Bailey’s cheeks lifted a fraction. The barest hint of a dimple showed on one side.

  “That’d be unbelievably cool.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “COULD YOU GET any slower, old man?”

  Zach ignored Sam’s shouted insult as they ran up the hill behind the quarry on the outskirts of Heartache. At six in the morning, there was no traffic out here. The trucks hauling shale wouldn’t get under way for at least a couple more hours and the teenage kids who came up here at night to make mischief had long ago found their beds.

  The hill’s incline was a killer. Sam worked out like this most days, whereas Zach had signed on for only three days a week.

  “Just trying to give you a chance to feel good about yourself,” Zach said between clenched teeth, hating the endless uphill climb of their usual weekend route.

  Five days after he’d taken Heather to the hospital, Zach still didn’t have his head on straight about her, the ER visit or anything else in his life. He’d hoped the morning run would distract him as Sam took sadistic pleasure in making the Sunday workout as grueling as possible.

  “Kind of you.” Sam grinned at him, jogging backward so he could gloat full face and full force. “But I’m not sure I can feel good about this run until you’re too worn out to brood over Heather Finley for at least a few hours.”

  “You’re asking for it, Reyes,” Zach muttered, sweat dripping into his eyes despite the chill in the air from a cold front that had moved in during the week. “And if you’d do your damn job and clear her old man, Heather would be long gone and out of my head.”

  Yeah, right. As if he could ever work her out of his system. He was so screwed. But he could make life easier for her. Lessening her stress would help her illness. He knew that much for sure.

  Sam snorted as he turned around to sprint the rest of the hill. He might pretend to have an easier time of the run, but while the guy could bench-press his body weight a few times over, Zach’s leaner build could track circles around him. Usually. He was only dogging it today because he’d taken last Sunday off for Erin Finley’s wedding breakfast.

  “I’m not the one who took all week to start analyzing his personal-computer files.” Sam kept his eye on the top of the hill, his thicker build starting to slow him.

  At last.

  “Who knew the former mayor would have a hard drive from the Stone Age. I had to special order a cable to connect my equipment to an adapter.” Zach had learned his predecessor was thrifty to the extreme. “The program should finish running tonight.”

  He felt as if he was wading through peanut butter at this point. And not just to get up the rest of the damn hill. He had no answers on the town’s missing funds. He couldn’t make the pieces add up in the odd assortment of reported incidents around the deserted roads near the quarry, which brought him no closer to his sister’s old stalker. He couldn’t move things forward with Heather because she didn’t want anything serious—she’d made that clear with all the boundaries she’d put up, starting at the hospital.

  Digging deep, Zach found another gear and picked up his pace. He might not control what went on in Heather’s head or the choices her old man had made while he was in office, but Zach could damn well beat Sam to the top of the hill.

  “Bastard,” he heard Sam growl behind him—too close for comfort.

  Running harder, Zach kicked up gravel and nearly skidded as he finally hit level surface at the top of Lookout Point. He didn’t stop moving, but it felt damn good to slow to a walk. Peeling off his cap, he let the cold wind blow through his hair. The trees up here were changing colors, a few red leaves drying to a crisp on the ground beneath his feet, others floating on the breeze on their way down.

  A few hundred yards below them, cornfields, orchards and cow pastures dotted the landscape. In the distance were the pond and the fairgrounds where the harvest festival would take place, along with the new add-on—Lumberjack Days.

  Several of Heartache’s residents thought this was a scenic spot to have a picnic or to go parking. But for Zach, it would always be the site of Ellie’s attack. He knew Sam thought the same thing every time they came here. Hell, remembering the attack was half the reason they had chosen this route for their weekly run.

  “Have you talked to your sister lately?” Sam asked, hitting the ground for a round of push-ups at a fast clip.

  If not for Sam’s promise to help catch Ellie’s attacker, he would have gone into the military. He’d never said as much, but he’d talked about it when they were teens and then—after that night—never again. Zach hated that he couldn’t have devoted more time or resources to searching for her attacker when it had first happened. But he’d been a kid himself. And he’d needed to devote all his time and energy to getting his sister out of Heartache, away from a mother who paid no attention to her, and to the West Coast where she could start over.

  He’d uprooted her, himself and Sam, too, relocating them all. At the time, it had been all he could manage, especially since his sister needed to finish school and Zach wanted to start college. But he’d always regretted not following up on his sister’s attacker. And now? Knowing the guy might still be tormenting other girls absolutely gutted him.

  “No. I need to get in touch with her.” He’d been avoiding his phone the last few days, sick of it showing no messages or missed calls from Heather.

  “She’s worried that Megan Bryer’s stalker could have something to do with the guy who jumped her.” Getting to his feet, Sam brushed the stones and dirt off his hands.

  “But you told her it was a totally different MO, right? And highly unlikely, given how long it’s been.” Zach swung on him. “I’m surprised you even talked to her about that.”

  It didn’t matter that Zach shared his sister’s fears. He didn’t want her worrying about the past anymore.

  “She texts me a lot.” Sam shrugged. “I figured you’d already told her since the cases could connect.”

  “Whoever went after my sister is our age or older. Megan’s most likely getting hassled by an idiot teenager.” Zach had turned things over to the sheriff’s department, but he’d figured Sam would damn well keep him apprised if new information surfaced. “Why are you suddenly worrying Ellie because of this?”

  “First of all, your sister is a grown woman. Second, she’s at least as stubborn as you, so she’s not the type of person to let something go when it’s on her mind.” Sam bent his knees and launched himself up a few feet into the air to grab hold of a tree branch, where he proceeded to do pull-ups with mechanical efficiency. “Third, J.D. says he didn’t know that website went up, and I believe him. I think someone else got on his computer and posted the thing.”

  “Like one of his friends?” Zach knew J.D. had been questioned at the station with his father present, but the meeting had revealed little.

  The kid had denied sending Megan text messages or posting the website, although he did admit to creating the site with a bunch of his friends. But he said they designed it for laughs and then deleted it. He’d seemed genuinely baffled
about how it got online, and according to Sam, the kid was not a good liar.

  “Or anyone else with access to the PC in his house.” Sam blew out a hard breath and swung down to the ground.

  “His mom’s a schoolteacher and his dad is a local businessman who’s been on the town board for a long time. Not exactly stalker types.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. If we’re looking for someone who targets teenage girls, that demographic skews toward middle-aged men, and more than half are educated, with above-average intelligence. But the Covingtons also happen to live right next to the quarry. There are trucks and workers in and out of there all the time. J.D. said the home and business computers are linked.”

  “So someone who works at the quarry might have seen the page J.D. designed and decided to post it.” Zach didn’t like the way the hairs on the back of his neck rose, hating to think about a grown man going after an innocent girl. “And the quarry backs up to Lookout Point, where Ellie got attacked. Are you questioning the guys who’ve worked there for the last decade?”

  Sam nodded. “The women, too. But I spoke to Jeremy Covington about it, figuring he’d agree to give me the computers if it would help clear his kid. But he refused. And you know what alternate theory he suggested?”

  “I’m listening.” Zach ground his teeth together, wondering if they might really be getting close to Ellie’s attacker after all this time.

  “Turns out he’s having an affair with Tiffany McCord.” Sam pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked his messages.

  Zach swore. “That complicates things.”

  “No kidding. According to Jeremy, Tiffany and her daughter hate Megan Bryer because she used to date J.D.”

  “And that kid is such a prize,” he scoffed.

  “Be that as it may, it introduces a lot of other people to the Covington house and a whole nest of other potential enemies—to the Covingtons, as well as to Megan.”

  “Does Cole McCord know?” Zach had always liked the decorated war veteran and wondered how he’d ended up with Tiffany.