by CeeCee James
But, after a series of bad relationships, I knew that I was running away from something. Me. And it was part of the reason I needed to connect with my grandfather. Call it an identity crisis, or just a breakdown, but one morning I found myself at work, all buttoned up in my business suit, caramel macchiato with light syrup-hold the cream in my hand, and I realized something.
I didn’t like who I was.
So running here was trying to figure out what was important to me. I wasn’t so sure how it was going, though.
To distract myself, I thought about the picture I’d found with the baby in it, and what Mrs. Crawford had said about Kyle. He was a troublemaker, huh?
Headlights flashed in my rearview mirror, making me squint. Nice having your high-beams on, buddy. I flipped up the mirror.
And, Kyle had been married before. Interesting. It was nice getting details about him that fleshed him out, to know he was a real person. I wonder how long he’d lived with the Valentines. It sounded like it was not long. And then both Richard and Kyle had joined the military. I wondered if they’d both joined right after school.
I glanced in the side mirror. The car was right on my bumper. What was this guy’s problem? I checked my speed limit. I was already doing five over. I stepped on the gas pedal. I didn’t want trouble on this dark road.
He sped up as well.
“Go around me, you idiot,” I said. Why wouldn’t he? There was no other car coming. No one around for miles.
My turn was coming up. I flipped the blinker, thankful I could get off the road and away from this guy.
I slowed and the car slowed, inches from my bumper. I floored the gas and turned the corner. Get me away from here.
I rolled my shoulders after I turned, my foot still pressing the gas pedal. Just get me home.
Every hair on my neck stood when I saw the headlights turn after me. Wait. He was following me? Who lives down this road? Like no one but me.
I sped up, and he matched me. I couldn’t see what kind of car it was. The mirror showed only blinding round headlights.
My heart pumped hard. I can’t go home. What do I do?
Dark shadows sucked the remaining daylight. It chilled me to realize I really was in the boonies.
I flipped open my map app on my phone and hit locate. It showed where I was on the road. There was a town a few miles away.
The road looked like it meandered deep into the country. I didn’t see anything close by that could help. I thought I remembered there was a turn-around up ahead. Did I dare take it? What if he trapped me?
I was just going to have to drive to the next town. I couldn’t risk getting blocked in.
The car got so close I thought it was actually going to bump me. I dialed 911 in a panic.
“Operator, how can I help you?”
“I’m being chased right now on English Elm road. It’s some kind of road rage. I’m all alone.”
“We have a car in the vicinity. Keep calm. We’re on our way.”
The headlights bounced off the side mirror and nearly blinded me.
“I’m afraid he’s going to ram me!” I squealed, stomping on the gas. What do I do? What do I do? There was no one around.
“Just keep calm. The Sheriff’s on his way.”
Keep calm was easy for someone to say a million miles away all tucked safe in a cozy office. It was not something I could do right now. Adrenaline pumped through my veins like it was going out of style.
We passed a turn-around. The car behind me inched even closer and slammed on its horn.
“Mother of—” I exclaimed.
It hit its brakes and backed up until it reached the turn-around, then spun around toward the direction we’d come from.
My hands shook.
“Ma’am? Are you okay?”
“I—uh—the car just turned around.”
“Did you get the make or model?”
“No, I couldn’t tell. I just know it was a car.”
“Was it a two-door or a four-door?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know!”
Was it Richard? He’s known for driving in the area.
“Where are you now?”
“I’m heading home.” I quickly rattled off the address. She assured me an officer would be by to take a statement. I barely heard her. All I could think about was who was that?
Chapter 14
I pulled down my driveway. To say that I was slightly shaking would be like saying the ocean was slightly wet. I was trembling so hard I could barely get the key to fit in the door lock. I hardly knew what to do with myself once I was in the house. I locked the door and checked it, and then turned around in search of a weapon.
I seized a knife from the butcher block and stared at it like it was a snake. What was I thinking? I couldn’t stab someone. I threw it in a drawer.
Headlights came down the driveway. I ducked down behind the counter. Staying low, I crawled over to the window and peeked out.
It was a cop car.
I bolted up and unlocked the door.
The officer parked and climbed out. He was monstrously tall, looking to be nearly seven feet. “Stella O’Neil available?”
“Yes. That’s me,” I said, trying to control my trembling as I tucked a hair around my ear. Just seeing someone who represented safety made my eyes sting after the terror of what had happened earlier. I took a deep breath and crossed my arms.
“I’m Officer Carlson. We have a report that you were involved in a road rage event?”
“Yeah, uh. Come in.” I stepped back from the doorway and the cop entered. He was in his mid-thirties, and when he took his hat off I could see he shaved his head. Whether by choice or balding, I wasn’t sure, but his scalp was tan like he’d been doing it for a while.
He followed me through the tiny living room to the attached kitchen where I filled a mug and microwaved it for tea. I needed something to hold. I wasn’t going to be able to maintain control of my nerves without it.
The officer cased my house really quickly before pulling out a notebook. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“I was driving home and this guy pulls in behind me.” The microwave dinged. I added a tea bag and clutched the mug, wanting the warmth to warm my bones.
“Where were you coming from?”
“From North Fork. My landlord lives up there.”
His eyes raised toward me with a flicker of interest so I continued. “You know Tonya Crawford?”
“She’s your landlord?”
I nodded and took a sip of my tea.
Officer Carlson made a note and continued. “So you were saying that someone pulled in behind you? A male?”
“Uh, I actually couldn’t see who was driving. I guess I just assumed it was a man.”
He nodded and scribbled some more. “So this car just pulled in behind you? Or did you pull out in front of it?”
“No, actually I was on the road first. I don’t know where it came from.” I frowned, thinking. “Actually, I think it came out of a field. Like it had just been sitting there.”
“Mmhmm. And why do you think he was in this field?”
My heart filled with alarm as I looked at him. “I don’t know? No reason, I guess.”
“Hey, you aren’t the realtor that is up at the Valentine’s house, are you?”
“Yes. Yes I am.”
“You’re representing the house where the skeleton was found?”
“Yeah, I’m the one who found it.”
He shut his book and stood a little straighter. “This isn’t some publicity stunt, is it?”
“Publicity stunt?” I had no clue what he was talking about.
“You’re trying to get a pretty penny for that Valentine Manor, I heard.”
I frowned. “I hardly think finding a skeleton or getting chased by someone in a car makes the house more appealing.”
“You never know. You’re from the west coast, right?”
How did he know so much about
me? “Yeah. So?”
“I’ve heard about those Hollywood types.”
Okay, this was becoming laughable. “I’m from Seattle and not a real big shaker in the film industry.”
“Ahh, came here to try and escape the rain, then?”
If he was going to go with that, so was I. “Yep.” And since he’d already brought it up, I thought I’d continue. “About that skeleton, I haven’t heard if they’ve come close to identifying it yet?”
“Not that I’ve heard of. Except they know it’s a male. And, apparently, it had a chipped front tooth and a nice watch.” He shrugged. “Still researching dental records to help identify it.”
I shivered. Just a John Doe in the morgue. This was somebody’s son, now a black bag and a toe tag that said nameless.
It would be burned in a crematorium.
“We’re still investigating the Valentine’s story that it was an intruder who got hurt when he broke in. The house was so huge. Maybe he overdosed.”
“And somehow crawled into the bed?” I asked.
“There’s stranger things in this world,” Officer Carlson said. “Anyway, I’ll keep my eyes out. Maybe ask a few people if they’ve seen a loitering car. You let me know if you think of anything else.”
With that, he headed out to his car. But as soon as his headlights left me surrounded in complete darkness, I raced to bolt the door.
It was then that my phone rang. I picked it up and read the name, grimacing.
It was my dad.
I was so shaken I didn’t know if I wanted to avoid him or if I needed him now. With a deep breath, I answered. What little girl doesn’t need her daddy?
“Hi, Dad,”
“Hi, Sweet Pea. How are you doing?”
Lie. Lie. Lie. He will freak if he finds out. “I’m doing good.”
He paused and then said, “You don’t sound good.”
“No, just a crazy day at work.” I could hardly stop rolling my eyes at my lies. “Did you get my text?”
“I did. So you liked the package?”
“Dad, it was amazing. Thanks for everything. Especially your letter. I’m going to probably keep it forever.” I smiled.
“Oh, great. You’re going to roll it out every time I tell you to get a better job, aren’t you?” He teased. “Well, your uncle better be treating you right.”
“He is.”
“That little twerp better not be talking bad about me.”
“No, nothing bad. Just that you are a little bit of a perfectionist.”
“Perfectionist, nothing. Sometimes you have to put the work in to get where you want.” He sighed. “Stella, how are you really doing down there? I’ve been worried.”
It took everything I had to continue to keep the shakiness out of my voice. “It’s going good. My house is cute. I like my new job.”
“You have any inkling at all to move back? It’s not too late, you know. I can still get you that great job.”
“I know, Dad. I really want to do this.” My voice dropped. “I need to do this.”
“It's your grandfather, isn’t it?” It was the first time he officially voiced it so point blank that I couldn’t wiggle around the question.
“Why haven’t you ever contacted him?” I asked. It seemed fair to get his reason right out in the open, like I had with Uncle Chris.
“You know I did it to protect you. Growing up, we were always moving because he had to protect his identity. He was always doing what was right, but we were the ones who had to pay. I lost friends, my own extended family. I was always moving from school to school. Mom begged him to quit. He would never listen. The FBI was his life. Then my mom died. He did that to us. Stole her. Stole a normal life my brother and I deserved.”
I felt a pang of loss for my dad. I could hear it in his voice that he really struggled. I also could hear unforgiveness. I recognized it, that bitterness. It was a poison you took hoping the other person would die. It hurt me to realize my dad was in that place.
“It’s not just me,” he continued. “Look at your uncle. He's never contacted him again, either.”
“I think Uncle Chris might regret that,” I said, slowly. “Do you have any happy memories with your father?”
He paused and his breathing became labored.
I sank down to the sofa, hoping I wasn’t pressing too hard. But I had to try. “He’s been out of the FBI for a long time. What if he’s changed? What if he misses you?”
He cleared his throat and exhaled. His voice was muffled as he answered. “Yeah, well. It is what it is. Sometimes there’s no going back.”
He was hurting. I had to ease up. “I love you, Dad.”
“Love you, too.”
“Thank you for the letters.”
“Oh, yeah. Did you like those?”
“You know, they’re all written in Polish,” I said, dryly.
He laughed. “I figured a smart girl like you would need something to do on those long boring nights out in the middle of nowhere.”
“You just wait. I’ll figure them out, and then you’ll be sorry,” I teased. “I’ll probably find out I’m heir to some big castle overseas.”
“That’d be just my luck,” he groaned. And then, more serious, he added, “Just…be careful, okay?”
“I will, Dad.”
“Sleep well, Stella.”
That night, when I went to bed, I thought about Dad’s warning to be careful. I knew he meant with Oscar, my grandfather. But I took the knife with me instead.
Chapter 15
As my alarm went off, I sat up straight in bed, remembering that today was the open house. The next moment found me dashing to my closet, furious with myself for not making it to the department store yet.
So do I want to wear this dirty shirt, or that one? Obviously neither were going to work.
I drove to the bakery and grabbed a couple dozen cookies, the whole time chanting “I’m late. I’m late,” like I was the white rabbit from Alice’s Wonderland. Then, I jetted to the department store where I was strangely attracted to the signs that said “Clearance.” I ended up rustling together an outfit that would have made any elderly aunt proud.
One pair of pink pants and floral shirt later, I was parking the car next to the old carriage house at the Valentine Estate. I grabbed the cookies, brochures, and a few realtors cards. Kari had told me to scatter the cards on the counter so it appeared like there was a lot of interest.
Heaving a calming breath, I climbed the porch steps. But before knocking, I remembered that carving on the pillar. Ms. Valentine had looked in that direction with tears in her eyes.
I found it right off. There was a heart carved into the wood. It looked like there used to be initials, but they appeared to have been gouged out. Interesting.
I knocked on the front door and waited. After a moment, the door opened and Kari met me with a smile. Her blonde hair was tucked into a cute updo, and she wore a pink business suit. We looked like the pink express, I swear.
“Hello, there!” she grinned cheerfully. “Cookies? Oh, boy!”
I wasn’t sure what to expect from the last time I’d been there, but the house was clean and smelled of vanilla.
Charity ran up after her. “Hello! Hello! It’s a party. Oh, it’s been so very long since we’ve had a party.”
Ms. Valentine thumped in behind her. “We’re selling the house, Charity. The party isn’t for you. In fact, it’s no party at all.”
“Well, I see cookies and flowers! It seems like a party to me!”
“And look what I have!” Kari waved a red canvas basket with a sign that said, “Please wear over your shoes.” Inside was filled with paper booties.
Ms. Valentine stared at it. “Am I supposed to be impressed?” she sniffed.
Kari wilted, just a tiny bit. Then she rallied like a pep leader. “No, I just wanted to reassure you that we were going to take good care of your place.” She turned to me, “Stella, will you come help me get some more stuff
from my car?”
Of course, I’d help her if it meant I wasn’t alone with the sisters. I set the cookies on the buffet and followed her outside. Her minivan was parked behind an enormous flowering bush.
“So, are you ready for the open house?” Kari asked as she slid open a door. A fast-food cup rolled out. She scooped it up and chucked it back inside.
“I really can’t believe we’re still going through with it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what kind of people live with a skeleton and don’t even realize it?”
“Even worse.” Kari looked a little green.
“What?”
“No one smelled him.”
Oh lawdy. My stomach flipped like a pancake on the griddle.
“I’m sorry,” Kari said. “But have you thought of that? Crazy, right?”
“Maybe they have a bad sense of smell?” I offered. The other possibility loomed that they simply hadn’t cared.
“I guess that’s possible. And it was on the third story, in the back. They said it had been years since they’d gone up there.”
“You think he entered through the vent in the attic?”
“I have no idea. I honestly don’t have a better theory.” Kari shrugged. “All right, lock all of those creepy thoughts up tight. Right now, we need to get this house sold.”
I nodded. That’s right, focus on the job. I could ask more questions later.
We carried the treats up the porch and walked inside.
Ms. Valentine watched from the side of the entryway, her hand on her cane. “I supposed this is for the pomp-and-circus you have planned?”
“Yes, that’s right. We’re going to get your house sold. That’s the goal, right?” Kari breezed past Ms. Valentine. I hesitated. I didn’t feel like I had the space to do it.
Ms. Valentine stared me down like a dog guarding a bone. Finally, I sidled past and galloped down the hall after Kari.
Thumping from Ms. Valentine’s cane followed us.
“Okay,” Kari said, eyeing the countertop. “It looks good in here. Let’s set up.”
“How long are these shenanigans going on for?” Ms. Valentine asked.
