Change of Heart

by Jude Deveraux

  “Dog,” he said and nodded toward the side. Lying on the ground was a big German Shepherd, sound asleep. Chelsea had almost stepped on him.

  “Pilar?” she asked.

  Eli nodded, then motioned to the shed.

  They stopped at the door. Eli looked around, then removed bolt cutters from his pack. The lock snapped easily and within seconds they were inside. “Don’t turn on the overhead light,” he said. He pulled out a little flashlight and shone it around.

  Chelsea hadn’t thought about what she’d expected to see inside, probably the usual things bought off TV then tossed into storage, kids’ toys, and boxes of old clothes. But instead there was a single row of stacked file boxes, all of them shoved up against the back wall. From the look of the cobwebs and the dust on the floor, they hadn’t been touched in years.

  “What now?” Chelsea asked.

  “You start at that end and I’ll take this one.”

  “Do you have any idea what we’re looking for?”

  “None,” Eli said as he opened the first box. It was full of receipts from Longacre Furniture and different suppliers. They had been tossed into the box, with no file folders, no organization. Eli looked at the dates and saw that they were years apart. “I think someone emptied folders into here.”

  Chelsea had also opened a box. Some of the documents in it had been wadded into balls, as though they’d been discarded. The second box she opened had been shredded. She held it up so Eli could see the contents, which were long strips of confetti.

  “I think someone cleaned out trash bins and threw the contents into these boxes,” she said.

  “My assessment exactly. I think it’s useless for us to try to find something in here. We have to turn these over to someone else.”

  “FBI? CIA? FedEx them to your friend the president?”

  Eli took out his phone. “No. Someone more important. I think we should give these to Dad and let his accountants put it all back together.”

  “Ha! They’ll turn the boxes over to some underpaid women to sort through, then they’ll—”

  “Sorry to interrupt your female-persecution complex, but most of Dad’s accountants are women, and I gave him some German software that can piece together the shredded strips.”

  “Why don’t you turn this over to the FBI?”

  “They’d want to know how and where I got it. Dad will never ask. What was that?”

  “I didn’t hear anything.”

  Eli motioned for her to turn off the light on her cell phone. It was completely dark in the little building. She didn’t hear him move but only felt him when he threw his body over hers. She made a sound when she was pressed up against the cold, dusty concrete floor, but then stayed still as they waited in silence. If anyone came in the door, they’d see Eli long before they realized there was a body under his.

  They lay together for minutes, neither of them moving, but nothing happened.

  Eli rolled off her. She couldn’t see him but could hear what sounded like the click of his pistol. “I’m going outside,” he whispered. “Stay here.”

  Chelsea sat up and listened. When Eli opened the door, a bit of light came through from outside, and he slipped out, closing the door behind him. It was so quiet in the little building that she could hear her heart beating.

  Crawling, she searched for Eli’s pack, found it, and rummaged inside. There were several objects that she couldn’t identify, but when her hand hit the bolt cutters he’d used to cut the lock, she took the tool out. She felt her way along the wall until she reached the door. If it opened, she’d be behind it.

  When she heard the door opening, she raised the cutters high.

  Eli’s hand caught them midair and took them from her. “It was no one,” he said, and turned on his flashlight to look at her. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” She took a breath. “Actually, I feel good. Is your dad coming?”

  “Yes. Men are on their way. Some of my cousins—” He waved his hand. “It would be better if you don’t know. But, yeah, people are coming to get these boxes. I need to get them out of this shed. Could you give me a hand? We’ll toss them over the fence, then hide them. We have to do this in silence and darkness. Think you can do it?”

  “Of course,” she said. “When do we start?”

  Eli gave her a grin of such happiness that she felt her knees go weak. She hadn’t seen that smile since they were kids.

  “Robin and Marian, all grown up,” she said and had the satisfaction of seeing him take a tiny step toward her. But he caught himself.

  “If we didn’t have this task to do, right now I’d remove your clothing.”

  “No, you wouldn’t,” she said.

  Eli frowned.

  “Because I’d have every stitch off before you could get to me.”

  For a second his eyes blazed at her, then he turned away. “Too bad we have to take care of this now.”

  Outside, the wind had picked up and it felt like it might rain. Pilar was waiting for them.

  “I knew I heard something,” Eli muttered. “Get on the other side of the fence and I’ll toss boxes to you. Or will they be too heavy for you?”

  “Puh-lease,” Pilar said.

  “Don’t be a jerk, Eli,” Chelsea said.

  Pilar and Chelsea looked at each other and smiled.

  “Two of you?” Eli said under his breath, then went inside to get the first load of boxes.

  Chelsea was glad to see Pilar go over the fence in exactly the way she had. “Ballet?”

  “Seven years of it,” Pilar said. “I grew too tall to pursue it.”

  “Me too,” Chelsea said and again they exchanged smiles. The first four boxes came sailing over the fence and they caught them before they landed. “So how’s Lanny?” Chelsea whispered. With the wind in the trees, their soft voices were covered.

  “Great. I think maybe he’s The One.”

  Chelsea almost laughed, as that’s what she’d labeled Eli—but with a different meaning. “Planning to quit Eli and settle down? Kids? The works?”

  “I haven’t got that far, but I am done with Eli.” She grunted as she caught a box so heavy she nearly fell. Chelsea helped her. “See what I mean? He’s always doing things like this.”

  “Is he? You mean things outside the government?”

  “Oh, yeah. He got shot in one of them, but he did bring down three men who were selling government secrets. But the way he did it was illegal. If the US didn’t need him so much, he might have been put in prison. What was he like as a kid?”

  “The same,” Chelsea said. “I don’t think he’s changed at all. Except physically.”

  Pilar gave a little laugh. “Half the women in the office have made a play for him, but he doesn’t even notice them. Jeff started spreading it around that Eli had been in love with a girl who died and couldn’t get over her. I think that was supposed to make them back off.”

  “They tried harder?”

  “Definitely! They started dressing to entice him. I’m sure the huge increase in sales of push-up bras created a surge in the stock market.”

  “What about you? You interested?”

  “Not in the least. He’s too nerdy for me. I have a blue-collar background. Lanny can repair a transmission. He has grease under his nails. He—”

  “Pilar,” Eli said through the fence, “where is Dad?”

  “Right here,” came the deep male voice of Frank Taggert. “Chelsea, you look beautiful, as always.”

  “Mr. Taggert,” Chelsea said and kissed the man’s cheeks. He stood straight and tall, and even in the darkness she saw that the years hadn’t put a pound on him. “You flew here just to help Eli?”

  “Of course. He’s my son.”

  Around them, in absolute silence, three men in black picked up the boxes and carried them away.<
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  “How is Miranda?”

  “Well,” Frank said. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “But Eli—” Chelsea began.

  “He’ll be here in a minute. Everything is taken care of. It’ll be daylight soon and people will be getting up.”

  When Chelsea saw that Pilar was with them, she followed Frank down the road to where his car was parked.

  Eli stayed behind to make sure a new lock was put on the empty shed, then vaulted over the fence and left.

  One of the men reconnected the motion-sensing lights on the shed. They came on for a few seconds, then went off again. On the ground, the sleeping dog began to stir.

  At last, everything was quiet and looked just as it had before the invasion of so many people.

  Inside the house, Abby Ridgeway was sorry the show was over. Earlier, she’d awoken hungry and had pulled a bottle of water and a bag of corn chips out of the pantry. She’d meant to go back to her room and look at some adult websites her mother had forbidden with her blasted parental controls. It hadn’t taken much work to figure out what her mom’s password was.

  It wasn’t that Abby actually wanted to see the sites, but right now she was furious with her mother. She had given away the money for Abby’s prom dress to that sleazy, slimy creep Orin Peterson.

  In the last few years since her father . . . died—Abby refused to believe what she’d been told of her dad’s death—she’d often told her mother what she thought of Orin. But her mother always said that he had been through a lot that Abby knew nothing about. She’d told Abby about some of it: a dying wife, a bankrupted business, living on food stamps. Poor, poor Orin.

  But Abby hadn’t believed any of it. She and her friend Scully had done some research and found that Orin was still connected to Longacre Furniture. Abby told her mother what they’d found out.

  Grace had asked Orin about that, and he’d said that yes, his name was still officially on the board but he received no money. In other words, he’d sweet-talked and cried and pleaded so much that Grace had believed him.

  After that her mother refused to listen to anything Abby had to say about what had happened. Grace said that her husband had given his life to keep the shame of it all quiet and she was going to honor that. Abby was forbidden to ever again speak of anything that had to do with her father or Orin or even about Longacre Furniture.

  Even after all the warnings, Abby had made some halfhearted attempts to find out more, but her mom’s unhappiness was more than she could bear. Abby quit looking and she even forbade Scully to search or to speak of what had happened.

  It had worked well because Abby saw her mother begin to get happier. She liked her job and for a while their lives had been pleasant. But then Orin called and Grace went running to him—and she came back poorer than when she’d left. The money for Abby’s new dress was gone.

  She knew her mother hadn’t meant for Abby to find out. But on Sunday Abby wanted to go to the mall in Williamsburg to look for a dress, but her mom said she couldn’t. She said she needed to talk to her boss, Mr. Frazier, on Monday. Abby knew what that meant: Orin had taken the money and her mom was going to ask for a loan. Abby hadn’t said anything, just walked out of the room in silence.

  It wasn’t easy to hold that much anger. Her mother had reassured her that they’d buy a beautiful dress, but to Abby, it was the principle of the thing.

  Tonight it was her anger that woke her. Her teeth were clenched, her hands made into fists, and she was in pain.

  She got up and went into the kitchen to get something to eat. She didn’t want her mother to know she was up, so she didn’t open the fridge with its bright light and a noise that her mother always seemed to hear. As she was on her way back to her bedroom, she walked past the window and a movement caught her eye. At first she didn’t pay any attention to it. Rex was a great watchdog that barked at the slightest movement. But then Abby backed up. To her disbelief she saw the shadow of what looked like a woman sailing over the top of their fence. She was so graceful, it looked like she was performing on some dance show.

  As Abby stared out the dark window, she saw a man close behind the woman. The two of them went to the shed in the back—what Scully called the Forbidden Building because Abby’s mom never allowed anyone to enter it—and slipped inside.

  Abby grabbed her phone to call the sheriff. But she didn’t. Maybe it was her anger at her mother, or maybe it was her extreme curiosity. Of course, years ago, she and Scully had found the lock combination and had investigated. Inside the shed were just boxes full of old receipts. Why would these two rather elegantly dressed people want to break into an old shed?

  She pulled up a stool to the side of the window and ate while she watched the show. At one point she cranked a window open and it creaked. She barely had time to close it before the shed door opened and the man came out and looked around. He even came close to the window and looked in.

  Yet again, Abby stayed behind the curtain, her finger hovering over the keypad of her phone. But she still didn’t touch it. The man—who she saw quite clearly—turned and went back into the shed.

  The second he was inside, Abby again opened the window a bit. Another woman arrived, then the two women went back over the fence. Minutes later, she saw the man begin to toss boxes over the fence. She thought maybe she heard voices, but in the gathering wind, she wasn’t sure.

  She saw the shadow of a man—heavier than the first one—close up the shed and put a lock on it. She was willing to bet it wasn’t the lock that her mother knew the combination to. The outdoor light flashed for a moment, then went off.

  Finally, there was silence. Abby sat still for a while, but her instincts told her that all the people were gone.

  Long ago she’d found the little red book where her mother kept all her passcodes. Tiptoeing, Abby went to her mother’s desk in the spare bedroom and looked. In the next minute she was running across the yard in her bare feet. She tried the combination six times but it didn’t work.

  Yawning, she started back to the house and nearly tripped over Rex. At first she was sickened as she thought they’d killed him, but he was just sleeping. How interesting, she thought, and went back inside and got into bed. She couldn’t wait to tell Scully everything.

  10

  Frank dropped Pilar and Chelsea off at Eli’s house, saying that someone would return Chelsea’s car the next day. The men didn’t explain to the women where they were going. They just drove away, leaving the women standing on the sidewalk.

  “My car is over there,” Pilar said. “I’ve got a long drive ahead so I better go.”

  “Take the other guest room,” Chelsea said as she went to the front door.

  “Thanks,” Pilar said.

  Ten minutes later, Chelsea was in the shower. She was exhilarated from the evening, but also exhausted. She felt like she wanted to sleep for a week, but at the same time she thought she might never sleep again.

  She shampooed her hair, then held her head back under the showerhead. As the hot water cascaded down over her long hair, she closed her eyes. She wondered what Eli and his dad were doing now. Sitting in a coffee shop somewhere and discussing everything? Talking together about things that Eli seemed to think Chelsea wasn’t smart enough, involved enough, whatever, to help him figure out? Were they—?

  She opened her eyes to see Eli, naked, standing in the shower with her.

  All the questions in her mind disappeared. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. It was a kiss that in seconds went deeper.

  Eli picked her up, his hands on her round, curvy bottom. Her legs went around his torso, pulling him to her, and he set her down on his hard maleness.

  It filled her. Her head went back as his lips were on her neck. He moved her so her back was against the tile wall. The water beat down on them as his strokes increased in depth. Chelsea clutched at his back,
pulling him closer.

  When she came, he kept on stroking, slowly and gently until she returned to life. “My turn,” he whispered, and she held on for his last strokes.

  He held her against the wall, his lips against hers. “You still have shampoo in your hair.”

  “And you’re sweaty,” she said.

  Smiling, he set her down, backed her under the shower water, and began to massage her scalp as the shampoo came out. As he touched her, his chest was against hers.

  “You could open a chain of salons with this technique,” she said.

  “I’m only interested in here and now and one client.” He looked her in the eyes.

  “Good answer.” She picked up the bar of soap. “I think you have body parts that need washing. Mind if I do it?”

  “Please,” he said, then closed his eyes as Chelsea moved her hands downward.

  The smell of pancakes woke Chelsea. When her stomach gave a growl, Eli reached out for her. She kissed the back of his neck.

  Last night, there’d been twice in the shower, interspersed with lots of soapy fondling and exploring of each other’s bodies. Then they’d moved into the bedroom. When they’d knocked a chair over and Chelsea said, “Shhh. Pilar is next door,” they went downstairs to his bedroom.

  Hours later, when they collapsed on the bed, the sun was up, peeping under the shades. They flopped back on the bed, their hunger for each other sated for the moment, and fell asleep, their bodies intertwined.

  “I’m going to get something to eat. Keep sleeping,” Chelsea said.

  He didn’t reply and he didn’t move.

  As soon as she was out of the bed, she realized that she had no clothes downstairs. Eli and she had both been nude when they came down the stairs, and she had a few bruises from the stair treads. She couldn’t help thinking that she was glad Pilar hadn’t left her room during that short, energetic trip on the stairs.

  In the walk-in closet she put on a pair of Eli’s boxer shorts and one of his white dress shirts. It wasn’t much, but it was a great deal more than she wore on most photo shoots. She thought about trying to untangle her hair but didn’t.