Should she really be surprised to find a mouse living down here? Whether or not she should, she was, and the rodent had nearly given her a heart attack, leaving her to take her final breath in this dungeon.
She forced herself to count slowly as she breathed in and out, calming her nerves and muscles.
Brianne peeled back the tape on the box with two fingers, her gaze darting around the room in search of other tiny intruders. All this hassle so she could watch a DVD that would break her heart wide open again. She’d once felt competent to help others with their most serious problems. She shook her head. What a fool she had been.
She took one more look toward the stairs, then opened the flaps. Inside was the ancient VCR her parents had when they were first married. It was the size of her microwave and not compatible with a DVD. She slapped the box closed and shoved it to the side. Maybe this was God telling her not to relive what she couldn’t change.
Above the pounding of her heart, Brianne heard a sound, like a voice in the distance.
She quickly stepped toward the stairs, climbed up five, then turned and went back down to shut off the light. The voice called again. This time she could tell it was Addison calling her name. Another mark against her guard dog.
“I’m coming.” She took the stairs as fast as she thought safe and plunged through the door to the kitchen, past the dining room table with the stack still casting guilt her way, and on to the front door. On the other side, she found Addison, as expected, but the tears in her eyes were a surprise.
THERE WAS A point when the weight of daily circumstances piled so high and heavy that even the most organized woman began to bend under the pressure.
Addison stood on the porch in front of Brianne’s door, having little memory of the walk that took her from Caroline’s farm to the home of a woman she’d only recently met. She wasn’t a crier, having learned early on that tears did not change circumstances. But somehow her emotions were pounding past her guard today, showing up in the blur of her vision.
“Addison. Is everything okay?” Brianne stepped to the side, making room for Addison to enter.
The house was simply decorated, sparse for what Addison assumed from an artist. Even as she blinked back another rush of tears, she found herself imagining what the living room would look like with a fresh coat of light sage paint and a sizable wall hanging.
A dog the size of Cujo peered around the corner of the living room before disappearing again. That couldn’t be the puppy her children went on and on about. That dog was practically a horse.
“Addison?”
“Sorry. I don’t even know why I’m here.” She pressed her palms against her stomach, correcting her posture at the same time. “You probably think I’m here to ask another favor.” Her gaze went to Brianne’s deep blue eyes. “I’m not.”
“Would it be so bad if you were?” Brianne’s head tipped toward her right shoulder. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
Friends? They were more than neighbors. “Yes. I guess that’s true. It’s been a long time since I had a friend that wasn’t the consequence of my children’s friendships.”
“I get that. My mom was the same way until we were in high school. I feel horrible when I think back on that now. It’s like we took everything from her and rarely did we think to say thank you.”
Addison glanced to the wall behind Brianne’s dining room table at a photo of what must be her parents. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to make all this up to you.” A heavy feeling pressed against her chest, and she swallowed hard. Debt of any kind was a burden she wasn’t strong enough to carry. Debt was another term for vulnerability.
Brianne stepped onto the porch rather than invite Addison farther into the house. “Let’s sit out here for a bit.” She ran her fingers through her blond hair, pulling out a mess of cobwebs.
“Did I catch you in the middle of cleaning?”
A smile brightened Brianne’s smooth features. “No. I was in the basement.” She shook with an exaggerated shiver. “I’d like to know more about why you feel you need to make anything up to me.”
“You’ve just done so much. You stayed with Caroline and the kids so many times while I was with Caleb at the hospital, and you even took them to church last Sunday. You’ve never turned me down when I’ve asked for you to drop what you’re doing and come to my rescue.” She scratched at a two-day-old mosquito bite on her upper arm. “I need to make it right.”
“Hmm. That’s interesting.” Brianne settled into a woven metal chair and waved a hand at the matching one across the table. “Have a seat. The thing is, to me, having a neighbor or a friend help out when your hands are too full seems like life at its best. If I had surgery and needed help with a meal or two, would you keep track and want me to repay you for the kindness?”
The thought was ridiculous. “Of course not. I’d hate to think of you feeling that way.” Her mouth dropped open. She’d stepped right into that little lesson.
Brianne tapped the tip of her nose with her pointer finger. “Exactly. I feel the same way. Let’s wipe this scorecard clean and make a fresh start.”
“Okay.” Addison took a deep breath. “Let’s talk about you for a change.”
“Me? There’s not much to talk about there.”
“Well, you could tell me what you were doing down in the basement.”
Brianne ran her hand over her hair again. “I was looking for a DVD player.”
“Not much of a television watcher?”
“Purely a Netflix girl.” Brianne pulled her foot into her seat, her knee bent near her chest. “I was hoping . . . well, I was going to watch a video recording of a session I had with a client a few years ago.”
“A client? I thought you were an artist.”
“I am. Now.” She shifted in her seat and fidgeted with the edge of the table. “I was a therapist, mainly working with children. I left that job last year to pursue art.”
“Wow. That’s a big move. Do you miss it?”
“Sometimes, but not enough to go back. It’s just too hard.” Her gaze drew down to her lap.
“But you loved it?”
She nodded. “I did.”
Despair seemed to filter through the air. Brianne had a story, but she was holding it close. If they were friends, did that mean Addison should ask about it, or was it more of a friend thing to let the subject go? “I’m sure you were very good. I see the way you talk with my kids. They’re so comfortable with you.”
“I love them. See, it’s like you’re doing me a favor. I spend way too much time on my own.” She dropped her foot back to the decking.
“If you’re no longer doing therapy, why watch the video?”
Brianne leaned back in her seat. “I think there may be some answers there that I need to have. But it really doesn’t matter right now. There wasn’t a DVD player in the basement.”
“We have one still packed in the shed. And I know exactly where it is.” Addison stood. “I’ll get it out this afternoon. You can use it as long as you need.” It was a small gesture, but finally, she could be on the giving end. She stepped down from the front porch, her flip-flops snapping along the wooden planks. “Thanks for the visit. I think it helped.”
Brianne lifted her hand and waved a good-bye, the dog resting across her feet, a stick torn to shreds hanging from his mouth.
As Addison walked away, she drew in a deep breath. How different from only a short while ago, when her lungs seemed to have seized up in response to the stress at Caroline’s. She stretched her arms overhead, enjoying the moments of peace before the next crisis.
An unfamiliar vehicle sat parked near the front of the farmhouse. She picked up her speed. It might be borrowing trouble, but Addison did not have a good feeling about this. She didn’t have a great feeling about much of anything since the move. Blessings. You have blessings. Count them.
By the time she reached the house, she was nearly jogging, something Addison made a point of never doing
. She swiped the sweat from her forehead as she threw the door open and entered the living room.
Two sets of eyes snapped up at her, her husband’s and another man’s.
The look on Caleb’s face only heightened her fears. “Addison. This is an old friend . . . Jeff Delmar.”
Jeff rose and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you. Caleb speaks very highly of you.”
She wiped her palm along her denim jeans and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you too. When was the last time you and Caleb saw each other?” She couldn’t look back to Caleb as the words spilled out.
“I think we exchanged how-do-you-dos after a game last year, but I’m thrilled he’s back here full-time. We need to get the families together. I have five boys, ages three to eleven. They’re a rowdy crowd, but my wife is a regular diamond.”
“That sounds wonderful. Our son would enjoy hanging out with other boys.” Addison tugged on the hem of her T-shirt. “I’ll let the two of you get back to your chat.” She swept her gaze over Caleb, his face expressionless, his jaw set in a firm line.
16
Are you kidding me?” Emilia slammed down the phone. Still no movement on the tox screen from the state lab. Apparently, harassment wasn’t the way to speed up the process, especially with the one guy stuck in the lab on a national holiday. Didn’t they understand the importance of these tests? Lives were on the line. Other people could be injured or killed. Imagine the tragedy that could take place in the time consumed by a simple blood test. Yet there was no way, even with the additional evidence, that the DA would issue charges before the official test results came in.
Emilia stood and shoved her desk chair out of the way. The clock on the wall ticked louder than necessary. She needed to be on patrol by now. The Fourth of July lit the fuse on bad decisions. It usually started before noon and continued into the early morning hours of the fifth.
She cringed as she entered the parking area for the sheriff’s department vehicles. She was stuck with the oldest in the fleet today, a car that looked like it was straight off an episode of The Dukes of Hazzard.
The door squeaked as she opened it and sat on the plastic seat, one side starting to split. Seriously, what kind of budget did this county expect they could get away with and still keep their employees safe?
She drove up the hill that led to the exit and turned right onto Gifford Street. A trip through the city park was her first task. Kids had been hanging out there, vaping. Last week an empty cartridge had landed in a sandbox two feet from a toddler. If his mother hadn’t been right there, the little guy could have picked it up and put it in his mouth—leading to a seizure or other medical complications.
A small play area stood at the entry to the park. From there, a paved single-lane road circled the property, past fields, the skate park, and shelters.
Emilia slowed to manage the dips without scraping the bumper, her eyes scanning the surroundings. The play area had been filled with parents and children, but once she moved past it, she saw few people gathered.
It was another hot one. Soon the kids would be taken inside too.
She drove toward the second shelter and spotted a rapidly dissipating vape cloud just as a group of kids ducked behind the dumpster. Emilia thought about staying in the air conditioning and driving on. Her uniform responded to the sun like a fur coat at the equator. But this was her job, and no one else was going to do it.
She pulled up tight to the dumpster and put the car in park, then stepped into the heat. “Come on out. There’s no point in running. I’ll recognize you and take this to your parents if you do.”
Three pale faces emerged from behind the dumpster. Cami Whittle, Sydney Frank, and Tally.
Emilia’s heartbeat hammered in her ears, and her neck broke out in a sweat. Tally was supposed to be at home, cleaning the trash heap she called a room. Emilia had scrimped and saved to pay for programs to keep her daughter busy throughout the summer, but the week of the Fourth, not even the boring camps were available. A few days of freedom, and here she was with the two girls Emilia had forbidden her to spend time with.
Next year, Tally was getting a job.
“Where is it?” Emilia rested her hand on the grip of her gun, more out of need to keep herself from strangling her daughter than from any desire to intimidate.
Cami shrugged, her eyebrows doing a jig. “What? We weren’t doing anything. And you can’t prove we were.”
Emilia’s hand gripped tighter. Her gaze shifted to her daughter. “Tally?”
Tally’s chin dipped to her chest. At least she had the decency to look ashamed. But she didn’t offer an answer.
“Get in the car, all three of you.”
Tally lumbered toward the passenger side. She reached for the handle.
“I don’t think so.” Emilia opened the back door and motioned with her head.
Tally’s eyes went round, as if she were going to cry. It took about a second for the tears to be replaced by fire. “No way.”
“Now. All three of you.” Emilia pointed. “Don’t make me read you your rights and take you to the station.”
The girls shuffled in without another word.
Emilia slammed the door, then walked back to the place where she’d first spotted the three delinquents. A vape pen lay on the cement floor of the wooden structure. Emilia picked it up and brought it to her nose. Nicotine flavored with strawberry.
Heat washed over her as she looked at the back of her daughter’s head in the rear window of a squad car. They were probably working out their stories right now, but it wouldn’t matter. Tally had been given a chance. And another. Cami and Sydney were the same girls Roger had been worried about the night of his accident. Thanks to those two, she’d live the rest of her life with guilt over the harsh words she and Roger had parted with that night, hours before he nearly died.
A shot of love drove through Emilia for the man she married and the guy she still caught glimpses of. How could Tally think, even for a moment, that they should walk away? Roger had been the greatest father Tally could ask for, and he could be again. They just had to have patience.
Or faith.
She wanted to go home right now and give him a hug. When had she last done that?
Emilia opened the door and sat in the driver’s seat.
Cami pounded a fist on the divider. “Where are you taking us?”
Emilia took a deep breath and buckled her seat belt.
“You have to tell us. We’re not your prisoners.”
Actually, they kind of were. And she didn’t have to tell them anything. Emilia pulled forward and drove out of the park, leaving the parents and toddlers in the playground to enjoy the years they had no idea were the easy ones.
Four blocks down the road, Emilia pulled up to a sprawling yellow ranch-style house with plaster elves peeking out of the well-manicured bushes. She opened the back door. “Come on, Sydney. Let’s go have a visit with your grandma.”
“You can’t leave us here in the car. It’s not safe.” Cami’s shoulders swayed with her words.
Tally had the sense to stay quiet.
“Vaping isn’t safe. Being locked in the back of a police car—with the air conditioning on—is only bad for your reputation, which you clearly don’t care about anyway.” Emilia slammed the door and walked toward the house with Sydney.
Emilia rapped on the frame above a No Solicitation sign.
A gray-haired woman in a floral muumuu opened the door. “Sydney?” She pressed her fingers into her soft chin. “What in the world?”
“Sydney, why don’t you go on to your room.” Emilia gave her a slight nudge, and the girl immediately obeyed.
“Mrs. Walters, I found Sydney at the park with Tally and Cami. They were vaping.” Emilia pulled the pen out of her pocket, showing it as evidence.
Sydney’s grandmother shook her head. “Not my Syd. She doesn’t do that.”
Emilia couldn’t help but wonder if Mrs. Walters had given her daughter that sam
e kind of unearned trust. Sydney’s mother was in and out of jail for drug possession. She’d recently been busted for selling. Sydney’s grandparents had taken custody of their granddaughter, keeping her out of the foster-care system.
In the background, a man coughed, adjusted his oxygen mask, then turned up the volume on his game show.
“Actually, she was, and I’m positive this wasn’t the first time. Pardon me for saying so, but you need to get some help with that girl before she’s completely out of control.”
“Oh, Emilia, you know girls. They go through a bit of a wild streak. Even you had your time.” Her head tilted as it bobbed up and down.
“That may be true, but please, keep an eye on her. I can’t have Sydney hanging out with Tally. I hope you understand.”
A sad shadow crossed the older woman’s sunken eyes. She released a breath. “Thank you for bringing her home.”
“No problem.” Emilia turned back to the car, where Cami pressed an unpleasant hand gesture against the window.
Emilia climbed in, already dreading the next stop. “Cami, is your mom at work?”
“How would I know what that woman is doing? She took off on us a month ago. Good riddance.” From the rearview mirror, Emilia watched Cami hug herself with crossed arms. It was a bigger deal than the girl cared to admit.
“And your sister?”
“No way. She bolted after that friend of hers offed herself.”
Emilia tamed the expression of shock before it hit her face. How could Cami be so callous? She’d gone from concerning to downright dangerous in a year. Roger had been right to keep Tally away. “So it’s just you and your dad, then?”
She nodded.
Emilia pulled away from the curb. She’d known Cami’s dad since she and Tom were in kindergarten. He’d been a bully and a cheat even then. Cami didn’t stand a chance with Tom as her only parent.
They drove to the edge of town, Cami filling the car with threats and complaints, and stopped at a long gravel drive off the side of the highway. A quarter mile of potholes led to a broken-down, possibly nice at one time, double-wide manufactured home.
More Than We Remember Page 11
