Page 41 of Dark Shadows
“I did. Until it changed.” She drew her knees to her chest. “Everything transformed after I reported that murder. The one where they never found a body.”
“You were just a kid,” Mason said softly. His hand gently found hers in the growing darkness.
“Yeah, well, kids can destroy lives, too.” She turned to find him watching her. “As time went on, my father died, my mother remarried, Richard left, my mom started therapy, and eventually I...” She shrugged. “I ran away to college and never had any intention of coming back.”
“Until now.”
“Until now.”
Understanding passed between them in the small space. He truly understood her, or at least tried to.
Mason shifted closer, his shoulder brushing against hers. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you trusted me enough to come back.”
“Even though I cause you nothing but trouble?”
“Especially because of that.” He squeezed her hand in the darkness. “I like trouble.”
Savanah's heart thundered in her chest as Mason leaned closer. His free hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin.
“This is probably totally inappropriate, but I plan to kiss you now. Is that okay?”
“I not only like inappropriate, I encourage it.”
He leaned in, and she stopped him with her pointer finger to his lips.
“Just so we’re on the same page, Agent. You kiss me now, you realize you’re in for ghosts, trauma, emotional whiplash, and all, because I don’t do one-night stands.”
Mason leaned in. “Sounds like my last three relationships, only better taste in jelly.”
His lips twitched into a smile as she removed her finger. “In that case, I’m ready for inappropriate.”
His lips met hers. They felt soft and questioning. She melted into the kiss, tasting pot roast and possibility.
When they finally broke apart, the night had deepened around them. Somewhere in the darkness, frogs croaked and crickets chirped.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you working behind the bar.”
“Speaking of bars, let’s go grab a drink,” Savanah said, her voice slightly breathless. “I know a place.”
Mason smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Lead the way, trouble.”
17
The Thirsty Cactus remained unchanged. Same neon beer signs, same worn pool tables, same peanut shells crunching under their feet as Mason and Savanah walked in. Only now, instead of fake IDs and nervous giggles, Savanah shared a drink with a man who carried an FBI badge.
“This place looks cozy,” Mason said, scanning the room.
“It's a dump.” Savanah laughed. “But it's our dump. Everyone ends up here eventually.”
As if to prove her point, Wesley Lawrence sat alone at the bar with his nose buried in a book. He barely glanced up as they passed.
“Two beers,” Savanah told the bartender then turned to Mason. “Should we have invited Jacob? He doesn't know anyone in town.”
“He's back at the motel, reviewing old records.” Mason's phone buzzed. “Speaking of...” He checked the message. “He says the historical records from the cemetery show headstone symbols going back to the town's founding family. The first symbol was on the grave of the founding family's daughter, Emmaline Grey.”
“Great, I wonder what she did wrong. Maybe sneezed on the town sheriff?” Savanah let out an agitated sigh.
“He's still digging. Maybe we'll find out more.”
