Author: Dale Wiley
Category: Thriller
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/dale-wiley/page,9,457982-southern_gothic.html
Meredith looked around the room, panting. No one was there. Michael’s footfalls sounded below. She glanced at her phone; thirty minutes had passed. She wanted to spend another half hour wallowing in her tub, but she had to get ready. She wanted to be with Michael. She wanted to know him. She wanted to untangle his secrets.
Michael was complicated. Despite the obstacles he faced, he had chosen to reveal himself to her, which made her feel special and sexy. He liked her, and the passion burned bright in his eyes, but she still didn’t know enough about him. An extraordinary author, her idol, yet he might be a murderer as well. If she were being honest, she would admit his cloak of mystery turned her on.
Meredith leaped out of the tub, suddenly anxious to begin the night. She would put on her sexiest dress, dab perfume on the nape of her neck, and she would decipher this fascinating and enigmatic man.
They decided to go to The Olde Pink House, a Savannah institution, for dinner. Meredith worried going out in public like this would be a problem, but he told her he did it all the time for short periods. His face had adorned enough book jackets that someone likely would comment on a resemblance if he stayed in one place for days, but he had government-issued IDs for his personas if he needed them, and he was used to shrugging and saying, “I get that a lot.” Still, he always felt it best to be careful. He picked dark places and went later at night so people had already been drinking and were less likely to be thinking about missing literati.
She chose the restaurant because of its weekend crowds. It was the perfect meeting place for them to hide in plain sight. Meredith always felt uneasy walking around the building. She had once badly twisted her ankle in the restaurant due to the uneven surfaces between rooms and the servers constantly careening around corners with heavy trays of quail and seafood.
Then there were the ghosts; local lore claimed ghosts still roamed, even during the busiest hours. The son of the builder, a Revolutionary War hero named James Habersham, was said to visit with guests from time to time in the bar. She knew it would be right up Michael’s alley.
A hundred pages from the end of the book, the one Meredith didn’t want to stop reading, she now had a challenge: to see whether she could breathe life back into this once-great man just like he had done to her Red Ribbon. She still hadn’t gotten in a rhythm with Michael, but she liked that he didn’t force it. His face itself didn’t tell many secrets, but the flash in his eyes did. They gave away blasts of raw emotion, a hint of what he would be like as a lover. The suspense of his entry combined with the romance of the book had eaten her up. She was with a man she had loved for twenty years.
RED RIBBON
Chapter Eighteen
On the Saturday after Leah’s latest commitment, when I was back at The Shoals with new cords and appliances and feeling as lonely as a country song, the weather turned warmer. It was almost Valentine’s Day.
After Leah had been taken, I spent the night in Atlanta in another strip mall hotel. In my former life, I would have disdained the nondescript rooms; now, it felt safe and normal.
I fantasized about buying a one-way ticket to the Caribbean, Greece, or anywhere but The Shoals. But I couldn’t leave her now. The doctors needed me, and she needed me, and frankly, being alone at The Shoals didn’t feel much different than being with her.
Weeks passed with generic phone calls that only highlighted the distance between us. I pondered new work. I dutifully kept working on the project, hoping I would find more treasures. I awaited the moment when the air would start to warm, and I would surely renew my digging outside. I knew the one thing I needed more than anything else was to search through the dirt. Now that Catherine didn’t visit anymore, it was the one thing I looked forward to.
I found a spot halfway down to the river where I could still see the house but was a little further out. Maybe there I would turn up something new.
After a few false starts, I finally got a rhythm. By then, the sun was high enough to make it reasonable to shed the jacket. The thin sunlight hinted at spring. I felt alive for the first time since being in Catherine’s arms.
I sat down to rest for a minute. This was Leah’s family’s land. Sure it had been paid for with my money, but it had been in her family for six generations. I needed to consider how much longer I would be welcome at The Shoals and how much longer I would want to stay.
It had been almost four months since I last saw Catherine, yet she was somehow never far. The feel of her skin, the way her head rested on my shoulder, the hope in her voice. When Leah was away, I still looked for her, still turned my head for footsteps that might be coming down the road, and awaited a soft knocking at the door. I couldn’t bear to think she might only be a memory.
I watched a hawk fly across the land below, not aware of the problems we humans had. He soared and circled, defying the law of gravity. He glided with ease and purpose, and when he spotted his prey, he drew a straight line through the air and caught the field mouse in a single movement.
I went back to my hunt. I imagined that hawk and tried to channel the grace of his purpose and tried to stay out of my head.
After a while, the detector made a different sound than I had heard it make before. I didn’t have a way of determining what type of metal I had ahead of me, but by the finder, I could tell it wasn’t far under. I put my shovel in the ground, and I was away on my next adventure.
That was my first truly major find: an ornate metal pouch with initials I couldn’t read. I brushed away the dirt, but I would have to wash it at home to read it clearly. It was very old and hadn’t been disturbed in many years. I placed it gently on a rock and picked up the detector again. I was about to continue, to see what else the land held when, just like that hawk, I spied someone far away, moving toward my house. A woman. When she got there, she sat down on the front steps. My stomach dropped in a panic. Was Leah home? Then the breeze picked up her hair, and I saw a flash of red—her familiar ribbon. It was Catherine, returning to me! I left my belongings where they were and raced down the steep hill. Catherine! Oh Catherine!
Chapter 23
The walk to the restaurant took less than ten minutes, another advantage of living in small-town Savannah.
“I love the feel of the old southern cities. They’ve got a permanence to them so many other places don’t,” Michael said.
“Is that why you chose Charleston?” This was the first time he had talked in this way, and Meredith hung on every word.
“I never really wrote about my growing up, but I was born there. I traveled a little, but my family owned an insurance business, and it made sense for me to come back.”
He continued opening up as they strolled down the street. “I didn’t belong behind a desk. I was maybe the worst insurance agent in history. But it gave me time to slip away and start writing.”
The slick paver stones glistened after the day’s rain, and as a streetlight caught his face, Meredith noticed just how handsome he was. His clothes looked much better after the wash, and he seemed more in his element now that he wasn’t so bedraggled. He walked straighter and even held out his arm for her as they got near the entrance.
He smiled brightly as they approached the hostess. She told them it would be several minutes before their table was ready, so they headed for the basement bar and ordered drinks. He put his hand gently on hers. His half-grin drove her crazy; Michael could be rakishly charming when he wanted to.
When the drinks arrived, Michael’s eyes lit up as he looked at Meredith. She smiled like he was putting a ring on her finger.
He lifted his glass, and she mirrored him.
“To tonight and a thousand more just like it.” His eyes tore through her.
She touched her glass to his.
When she finished her first glass of Merlot, she forgot about worrying about his fugitive status and let herself sink into the moment and enjoy being with him.
It wouldn’t take much to get her drunk—and she was quite okay with that.
He looked down at his glass and then up at her. “I’ve told you.”
She shook her head again. “Come on. There’s more.”
“You want the truth?”
“Nothing but.” Their shoulders touched, and she turned her body away so she could hear his answer.
He smiled as she rested her hand on his knee. He turned and did the same on her leg, a little higher.
“Truth is I’m lonely and I’m bored. I needed something to do, and I want someone to do it with. I have thought many times about not being Michael Black and creating a new backstory, pretending all of this”—he swept his hand around the room as if he owned it—“never happened. But I can’t do that. I’m Michael Black. I’m a writer. It’s not something I can give up easily.”
“Pick a pen name and write under that. Plenty of authors write anonymously.”
Michael shook his head vigorously. “No, it wouldn’t work. I can’t re-enter the publishing world. Quinn’s old man really has it out for me. He never believed I died, and if he so much as sensed I was back writing—either under my name or a pen name—he has enough money and connections to put me away for forever.”
“But isn’t Red Ribbon exactly that? Your new novel written under a pen name?”
“Yeah, but you have a great cover story. You can show you sent me the manuscript years ago. You can say I gave you great editorial advice and the success of the store re-energized you and inspired you to start writing again. I specifically chose different ways of phrasing and structuring things so it wouldn’t read exactly like a Michael Black novel. It’s your story with my writing, but it’s got a different feel.”
The second glass of wine, combined with the endearing words from Michael, made her blush the color of the Merlot. Thinking about it only made it worse. “You’ve really thought this through.” She looked at her wine glass and then him.
He smiled and gazed straight into her eyes. “I’ve planned everything.”
Meredith reached over and kissed him on the cheek. “I—”
Michael laughed and shook her off. “Well that was a nice surprise.”
“You’re making my dreams come true.” She didn’t mean to give away so much, but she couldn’t help it. He amazed her and flustered her. She would have to keep it to herself and trust no one with her secret, but it was still unreal. And such a good book.
Across the room, the piano player played the Savannah classic, Johnny Mercer’s “Moon River.” The music transported Meredith to a different time, when the classics were created. She looked at Michael. She saw a man who had chosen her for all the reasons a woman would want to be chosen—for her body and her mind. She moved a little closer to him. He didn’t hesitate and slipped in to give her a quick kiss on the lips, a lover’s kiss, one that danced and ended too soon.
The hostess stood behind them, unfazed by their display. Michael looked at Meredith in a way that left no doubt where the night would lead.
“To dinner and a show,” he said.
It only took a moment for Meredith to understand exactly what he meant.
RED RIBBON
Chapter Nineteen
I don’t remember the sprint that brought me down that hill. I remember getting close enough to lock eyes and know what we both needed. Her lips tasted salty, and I devoured them. Her body pressed to mine, and I felt her breasts against my chest. I wrapped my arm around the small of her back.
The kiss seemed to last a lifetime. The world stopped spinning around us. The birds stopped their song in silent anticipation. I moved down to kiss her neck, nibbling at her warm, soft skin. When I bit harder, her breath left her, and she relaxed into my arms.
I pulled back and looked at her, my hands cupping her face. She was even more beautiful than I remembered. Her eyes were soft and inquisitive, and her body curved gently. When our eyes met, I finally understood her relationship with her husband. Those scars were from him; he hurt her. I pulled her against me, trying to protect her with my arms. Then I took her by the hand and lead her into the house.
We blew through the door.
My heart seized when I saw Leah sitting there.
Chapter 24
The hostess sat them upstairs in a small room, winking at Meredith as she handed them their menus. Meredith smiled brightly, and Michael met her eyes and reached for her hand. She felt like she was in one of Michael’s books—the glamorous opening when the characters were just starting to let down their guards. And Michael seemed to be matching her interest. The mood—and the wine—wiped away any hard-hitting questions Meredith might have intended to ask. Instead, she turned to the book. Her book.
After they ordered some food and more wine, Meredith asked, “If I decided I wanted to publish, what would happen next?”
Michael slowly broke into a grin. “If?”
Meredith lowered her eyes and chuckled at her embarrassment. “Fine. When I decide to.”
“We will get you a publishing deal and set a publication date.”
She shook her head, remembering the constant rejections. “It will happen that easily?”
Michael closed his eyes and nodded.
What seemed like a herculean task for her, clearly didn’t bother him. “How long will it take to come out?”
“We’re headed into the fourth quarter, and no one wants to publish a new author against all the heavyweights. My guess would be just over a year from now.”
Meredith slumped a little. She wanted the process to take less time.
“Books are like ocean liners,” he said. “They take time to build momentum, and they’re hard to turn around. Don’t worry. The time will move quickly.”
“Can I say yes now?”
He chuckled. “You said yes as soon as you started reading.”
She squeezed his hand. “Am I that easy to read?”
He shook his head lightly. “I just happen to be rather good at it.”
The three glasses of Merlot and lack of food were going to be doing much of the talking from here on out. She could sense it. “What else are you good at?”
Before he could answer, the waiter brought their food. They giggled as their meals were revealed, her salmon, his bloody steak. They didn’t speak for a moment, and then Michael cut a small piece of meat and put it on his fork for her. She looked in his eyes as she bit the meat off his fork. Her chest felt warm, and her legs were weak. Michael stared at her with an intensity so raw she had to stop herself from dragging him to the bathroom. She tasted and savored the tender meat. She nodded at him.
“How’s your fish?”
“Delicious. Here.” She cut a small piece and leaned over the table towards him.
His eyes fixed on her. He waited for her to put the bite in his mouth.
She found it strange he didn’t blink as if he were engaged in a staring contest. She turned away, pretending it didn’t bother her.
Red Ribbon
Chapter Twenty
Leah sat on the sofa inside, with eyes that reminded me of all the special words I had said to her in a seemingly different life. She looked like her old self, with color in her cheeks and a glint in her eyes. That hint of a comeback made it all that much worse—a betrayal on both sides, a man caught between two jilted women.
I froze. I came up with a thousand different things to say. None of them would come out of my mouth. Leah stood up, her eyes filled with passion, and walked straight toward me. She spoke no words. She stood right in front of me and kissed me like it was our wedding day. I wanted to join her there, but I was standing next to the woman I loved—in one of the most awkward moments of my life.
She finally pushed away. “Hey!” she said playfully. “Aren’t you going to kiss me back?”
Leah play-pouted, finally adding, “Okay, maybe that was a little strong for all we’ve been through, but I’m back, and there’s no way I’
m letting this moment go without dragging you upstairs.” She toyed with my shirt and brought her look back up to me. “I’ve been a bad girl, and I need to tell you all about it.”
I worked up the courage to turn and look at my sweet Catherine, hoping she could give me the strength to tell Leah I didn’t love her anymore. But Catherine was nowhere to be seen. The front door was open, and the midday light spilled in. I turned back to Leah. She was ready for another kiss.
“I’m so happy to see you! They said I could come home!”
Her energy was so real, so positive. I glimpsed the woman I had married. She wanted to kiss again, and I still had the rush of energy Catherine’s reappearance had brought. Leah’s electricity became contagious, but I realized halfway through a longer and even more substantial kiss that in my mind I was kissing my mistress and not my wife. She felt my erection and reached down to undo my jeans.
“I see you’ve been waiting for this too.” She kissed me hungrily.
We didn’t make it upstairs. I had the strangest moment of déjà vu—I was making love to the past and present at the same time, and I couldn’t tell who was who. If Catherine were outside watching, as I was afraid she was, how could she ever forgive me? I told myself I couldn’t worry, but I did. I tried my best to keep my mind focused by cheating with my wife.
Chapter 25
The rain disappeared for the moment, and she carried her shawl. Michael extended his hand, and she took it gratefully.
“Now what?” Meredith pulled herself closer to him.