Seeing Red Read online

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2009 by Susan Crandall

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Cover design and art by Rob Wood

  Forever

  Hachette Book Group

  237 Park Avenue

  New York, NY 10017

  Visit our Web site at www.HachetteBookGroup.com

  Forever is an imprint of Grand Central Publishing. The Forever name and logo is a trademark of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  First eBook Edition: February 2009

  ISBN: 978-0-446-55741-2

  Contents

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  EPILOGUE

  Praise For Susan Crandall’s Novels

  Pitch Black

  “Prepare to be thoroughly captivated by Crandall’s Pitch Black world! . . . A superbly woven suspense that sucks you in and doesn’t let go . . . Susan Crandall is a master storyteller whose characters never fail to touch your heart.”

  —Karen Rose, New York Times Bestselling Author

  “Keep the lights on bright for Pitch Black . . . takes the reader on a thrill ride into the soul of a small town, a very special woman, and the sheriff who wants her even more than he wants to solve a terrible murder.”

  —Karen Harper, New York Times Bestselling Author

  “Crandall brings a strong new voice to the genre.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews Magazine

  A Kiss In Winter

  “Everything a contemporary romance reader wants in a book.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “A very character-driven story, A Kiss in Winter is a tale of family expectations and disappointments.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews Magazine

  “Complex characters, intricate relationships, realistic conflicts, and a fine sense of place.”

  —Booklist

  “Great characters, a touching relationship, and exciting suspense.”

  —Affaire de Coeur

  “Brilliant characterization, edgy suspense . . . a tension-rich mystery.”

  —ContemporaryRomanceWriters.com

  On Blue Falls Pond

  “A powerful psychological drama . . . On Blue Falls Pond is a strong glimpse at how individuals react to crisis differently, with some hiding or running away while others find solace to help them cope.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “Readers who enjoy . . . fiction with a pronounced sense of place and families with strong ties will respond well to Crandall’s . . . sensitive handling of the important issues of domestic violence, macular degeneration, and autism.”

  —Booklist

  “Susan Crandall writes nothing but compelling tales, and this is the best yet. I’m moving her to the top of my favorite author list.”

  —RomanceReviewsMag.com

  “Full of complex characters . . . it’s a well-written story of the struggles to accept what life hands out and to continue living.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews Magazine

  Promises To Keep

  “An appealing heroine . . . [an] unexpected plot twist . . . engaging and entertaining.”

  —TheRomanceReader.com

  “FOUR STARS!”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews Magazine

  “Another fantastic story by Susan Crandall.”

  —RomanceReviewsMag.com

  “This is one book you will want to read repeatedly.”

  —MyShelf.com

  “One of today’s most enjoyable authors.”

  —RoundTableReviews.com

  Magnolia Sky

  “Emotionally charged . . . An engrossing story.”

  —BookPage

  “A wonderful story that kept surprising me as I read. Real conflicts and deep emotions make the powerful story come to life.”

  —Rendezvous

  “Engaging . . . starring two scarred souls and a wonderful supporting cast . . . Fans will enjoy.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  The Road Home

  “A terrific story . . . a book you will want to keep to read again and again.”

  —RomRevToday.com

  “The characters . . . stay with you long after the last page is read.”

  —Bookloons.com

  Back Roads

  “Accomplished and very satisfying . . . Add Crandall to your list of authors to watch.”

  —Bookloons.com

  “An amazingly assured debut novel . . . expertly drawn.”

  —TheRomanceReadersConnection.com

  “A definite all-nighter. Very highly recommended.”

  —RomRevToday.com

  ALSO BY SUSAN CRANDALL

  Pitch Black

  A Kiss in Winter

  On Blue Falls Pond

  Promises to Keep

  Magnolia Sky

  The Road Home

  Back Roads

  In memory of Jane Henry Younce, friend, classmate,

  and fellow writer. You taught us all how to laugh

  in the face of adversity. Thank you.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  It’s funny the things an author will ask you to do. Luckily the folks around me are used to my peculiar questions like, “Can I come and smell your stables today?” A huge thank you to Lorrie Mahaney for indulging my senses and answering all of my horsey questions.

  I want to send out a special thank you to my editor, Karen Kosztolnyik, and my agent, Annelise Robey, for all of the special guidance they provided in molding my loose idea into a story that exceeded my own expectations. You held my hand and led me when the woods were too dense for me to find my way.

  As all books are truly a team effort, thanks to the rest of the wonderful people at Grand Central Publishing for putting their time and expertise into this book.

  And, as always, appreciation to my fabulous critique group, IndyWITTS (Garthia, Sherry, Vicky, Brenda, Pam, and Alicia), for their eagle eyes, their sharp insights, and their continual support.

  PROLOGUE

  February

  Charleston, SC, County Courthouse

  Fifteen years ago

  The long wooden bench on which Ellis Greene sat next to her father reminded her of a church pew. But there was nothing holy about what was happening in this courtroom today. For the past few minutes, she’d kept her gaze fixed on her hands in her lap. Her fingernails were chewed to the quick, the cuticles ragged and red. They hadn’t been that way nine months ago.

  She sighed and tried not to cry. Today was her fourteenth birthday.

  Nobody remembered.

  For her entire life, her dad had made such a huge deal out of “family first.” No matter what he was talking about, he always managed to stick in, “Ellis, remember, friends come and go, but your family is forever,” or something equally dorky. She never wanted to hurt his feelings—because growing up, he hadn’t really had a family—so she always nodded before she turned away and rolled her eyes.

  But now she got it. And her dad had stopped talking about much of anything. He just looked at her with sad eyes and a frown on his face. He didn’t let her go anywhere or do anything. A person would think she was six, not fourteen. Her mother said to give him time and he’d adjust. But how could somebody adjust to something as horrible as what had happened to Cousin Laura?

  Although she’d never let anyone know, Ellis had always hated how boring her life was . . . how boring her family was. The thought that things would drag on forever just the same had sometimes made her depressed. Like she was caught in one of those vapor locks she’d studied in science, stuck with things being just like they were until the day she died of old age—or boredom. She used to spend hours willing something to happen.

  And then it did.

  Every time she went to see Laura in the rehab center, she told her how sorry she was and that she wished she could take back that wanting, the thousands of secret wishes for something big to happen. Not that sorry could help Laura. It was just like her daddy said: “Sorry never fixed anything.”

  A week ago in this courtroom, Ellis had sworn to tell the tr
uth. It was all she could do for her cousin now. If she could do anything else to help, she would. But the doctors said there’s nothing anyone can do. For a long time, Ellis hadn’t believed it. For a long time, she’d hoped.

  Now all she could do was tell what she’d seen the night her cousin had been kidnapped from her bedroom and left for dead on the beach . . . .

  Just then, the jury filed back in. They’d been deliberating for three days. As they took their seats, Ellis’s heart beat hard and fast, and her stomach felt like it was crawling up her throat. She couldn’t tell by looking at them what verdict they’d come to.

  Angry sleet clattered against the courthouse windows—a freakish occurrence even in February around here. It seemed Mother Nature didn’t think it was right for everything to bloom when beautiful, perfect Laura lay pale and shrinking in her bed instead of finishing her senior year of high school.

  Ellis shivered.

  She couldn’t look at Hollis Alexander, the man sitting at the defense table. After a minute, she couldn’t even look at the jury. This was nothing like what she’d seen on TV.

  This was the first day she’d been allowed in the courtroom, except when she’d testified. It was because she was a witness, but her dad wouldn’t have let her come anyway. She’d had to beg to come today.

  Her dad took her hand and squeezed it. She felt his breath on her ear when he whispered, “You should be proud of yourself, Ellis. No matter what they say, you acted bravely and did right by Laura.”

  Ellis didn’t feel brave; just the opposite. Fear had crept into her life, and she had a feeling it had moved in permanently. She shuddered, thinking what her life would be like if the jury let Hollis Alexander go free.

  The prosecutor, Mr. Buckley, had warned them that the case was thin, that the jury was going to have to believe all the circumstantial evidence. He’d tried to keep Ellis from feeling pressured as she’d testified. But she knew exactly where things stood. Without her identifying Alexander in the first place, there would have been no arrest. Without her testimony, without the jury believing her every word, he would likely go free.

  Of course, everyone had been careful not to say that straight out. But she saw it in the nervous uncertainty in Mr. Buckley’s eyes, in her uncle’s heavy sad stare each time he looked at her. And her dad . . . He sometimes looked at her with so much fear in his eyes—like she was the one on trial, and might be hauled off to prison. He hadn’t wanted her to testify at all. And if there had been any other way for the prosecutor to have made his case, Ellis was certain her father would have forbidden it. The fact that he allowed her to testify told her exactly how much of this case depended on her.

  She’d told her story, just like Mr. Buckley had instructed. But what if the jury didn’t believe her? The man who attacked Laura would go free, and it would be all Ellis’s fault.

  She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, but her stomach wouldn’t go back where it belonged.

  The bailiff looked serious, bordering on grouchy, when he announced the judge in a flat voice.

  The courtroom was so quiet, she could hear her father breathing next to her.

  She lifted her eyes and looked at the back of Aunt Jodi’s head. Her hair was the same beautiful blond as Laura’s; Ellis wondered if Uncle Greg felt as sad when he looked at Aunt Jodi’s hair as Ellis did. She didn’t think her aunt had stopped crying since the trial began. Her head was bent, and Ellis heard her sniffles. Uncle Greg put an arm around her.

  At first, Uncle Greg had been certain that Nate Vance had done this horrible thing to Laura. Sometimes, even with Hollis Alexander on trial, Ellis thought her uncle still believed it, or at least that Nate was in some way responsible for Hollis Alexander finding his way to Belle Island in the first place, which was ridiculous. Uncle Greg had never liked Nate, even before; he said Nate came from trash, so he could never be anything better. Laura was too good for “the likes of Nate Vance.”

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  Nate was great. He loved horses. He loved Laura. He would never have hurt her.

  Ellis looked across the courtroom aisle. Nate sat on a bench entirely empty of anyone else, despite the crowded courtroom. His mom worked in the hospital cafeteria and couldn’t get off—at least that’s what Ellis wanted to think. She was pretty sure Nate’s mom had never said “family first.” From what Ellis had heard about the woman, she probably wouldn’t be here with him anyway. Nate’s dad . . . Well, Ellis didn’t know anything about him, other than it had been so long since Nate had seen him that he didn’t remember what he looked like. Uncle Greg said Nate’s dad was in prison somewhere, but Ellis didn’t believe it.

  Nate was wearing a shirt and tie, just as he had each day of the trial. Ellis knew because she’d stood outside the courthouse and watched him go in every day when her dad thought she was at school. It was always the same tie; he probably had only one. She thought his daily presence was a real show of respect, because, like her, he hadn’t been allowed inside the courtroom except when he’d testified.

  Now, waiting for the verdict, there wasn’t any shame or guilt in the way he held his head. Even though there were plenty of people who whispered behind his back and thought like Uncle Greg—that Nate still might have been involved some way in Laura’s “ordeal.”

  Nate looked over at Uncle Greg. And Uncle Greg stared back—almost as hatefully as Hollis Alexander had stared at Ellis when she’d been on the witness stand. Nate didn’t look away from her uncle, though, like she had from Alexander. Nate kept his face calm and held Uncle Greg’s gaze until Uncle Greg finally turned away.

  Ellis sat up straighter and tried to look as confident as Nate.

  As she waited, things crept into her mind, things she tried to keep locked out. Laura’s stiff fingers curled against the braces they’d put on her to keep her hands from closing. The sound of the respirator hissing in and out, in and out.

  “Has the jury reached a verdict?” The judge’s voice sounded like gravel hitting pavement.

  One of the jurors stood up. “We have, Your Honor.”

  The judge ordered, “Please rise, Mr. Alexander.”

  Ellis looked then at the man who’d hurt Laura. She didn’t want to, not after the way he’d looked at her when she’d testified, like he was a snake and she was a mouse with two broken legs. But it was the right thing to do.

  She was glad he didn’t turn around and look at her. She could hardly breathe as it was.

  Her dad’s arm went around her shoulder, and he held her close to his side. She saw he was holding her mother on his other side.

  The judge asked the man in the jury box, “On the count of kidnapping, how do you find?”

  “Guilty.” The man in the jury box looked right at Hollis Alexander when he said it, as if he wasn’t afraid.

  Aunt Jodi’s sob sounded over the rest of the whispers in the room.

  “On the count of criminal sexual conduct in the first degree?”

  “Guilty.”

  “On the count of assault and battery with intent to kill?”

  “Guilty.”

  Her dad let go of her and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Aunt Jodi and Uncle Greg. Her mother joined them, putting her forehead against Aunt Jodi’s. Everyone was crying.

  Ellis stood rigid, feeling like an island in a sea of movement.

  Those words. Those charges. They brought pictures to her mind that she wished would disappear. They brought alive the pain and fear of Laura’s “ordeal.” Everyone had been so careful when they spoke about what happened when Ellis was within earshot. But she knew it had been bad—just look at what was left of her cousin. But hearing those words . . .