Revealing Annie - Freya Barker Page 0,39

and then he’d turned to me and said, “We should’ve asked Annie to come. She would’ve liked this.” I sat there staring at him, realizing the truth of what he said. I’d wasted days letting what I know of her be muddied by sensationalized words and shiny pictures. Annie would’ve loved the Chuckwagon.

So after Bryce had gone to bed, I pulled up the pictures and the articles on her again. This time when I flipped through them, however, I recognized how thin the veneer had been. There are pictures where her face may have been radiant but her body was near skeletal. The most recent picture I found was one taken last year at the funeral for a contractor, killed in a tragic accident. I must’ve missed it on my earlier searches. The accompanying article in a gossip rag said something about rumors having been true about ‘Annabel Fiore slumming with the hired help.’

It soured my stomach.

I turn to see Annie’s taken a seat at the small kitchen table.

“We need to talk,” she says, when I slide a plate with two slices in front of her.

“We eat first.”

After I wolfed down my half of the pie and she barely managed a slice and a half, we head over to pick up Blossom. We chat with her neighbors for a few minutes before setting off toward the river. It’s not until I try to take her hand in mine, she slows and turns to face me.

“We need to talk,” she repeats from earlier, her eyes gaunt.

“Okay. Let’s talk. I’ll go first.”

I figure I’d give it to her straight to spare her trying to pull the wool over my eyes.

“You’re planning to blow me off and I’m not on board with that.” I ignore the sharp inhale of air from beside me. “Here’s what I think, and I’m sure you’ll tell me if I’m wrong. You’re scared. What’s happening here with me is too real, too close to the truth of you. You’re so used to a world of perception and deception, you don’t trust easily.” I glance beside me to see she has her eyes on the path in front of her, but she appears to be listening and not objecting, so I push on. “Last weekend you revealed yourself and now you feel exposed and are getting ready to bolt. Am I close?”

It takes a long time for her to answer, but while I’m waiting, I can hear the wheels grinding.

“Partly,” she admits, but doesn’t follow through.

I remind myself to be patient, to let her come to me, but by the time we have the trailers back in view, I push a little more.

“Who was David Finch?”

She abruptly stops and I turn to look at her. This isn’t just shock plastered on her face, it’s pure fear. As her eyes start darting around, I can’t help but look as well. I don’t have a fucking clue what it is we’re supposed to be looking for, but her palpable fear is contagious.

“Annie?” I finally put my hands on her shoulders and bend down, my face inches from hers. “Baby, look at me. Whatever it is, we’ll—”

“We can’t talk about it here,” she hisses, twisting out of my hold and rushing back to the trailer park.

All I can do is stick by her, unless I give into my baser instincts and toss her over my shoulder, but I have a hunch that may not work out too well for me. I wait in front of her neighbor’s trailer for her to drop off the dog and walk her back to her place.

To my surprise she darts into the bedroom, and comes out a few seconds later with her laptop and her purse.

“Not here,” she whispers. “Your place.”

Mystified at her reaction, I follow her out the door and don’t even question it when she climbs into her own car.

When we pull into my driveway a little later, I get out and am ready to ask what the heck is going on, but she beats me to it.

“Inside. I’ll tell you everything, I’ll make you understand, but not until we’re inside.”

14

Annie

The second I hear the door shutting I swing on him.

“What do you know about David?”

Since the moment he uttered his name down by the river, my heart has been trying to beat out of my chest. Different possibilities went through my head. Did he by some awful coincidence know David? Did someone tell him about David? I tried to concentrate on breathing while