The Life Thief
By Cherie Mitchell
All Rights Reserved © 2019 Cherie Mitchell
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Epilogue
Chapter One
The receptionist, a new staff member who Becky had not seen here before, gave her a professional smile as she handed Becky’s credit card back across the counter. She wore her hair pulled back tightly off her face and she had yanked her beret down firmly at the front, wearing it in a style too practical to be attractive. The lenses of her glasses reflected the light from the fluorescent tube on the ceiling, giving the woman a blank, anonymous look. “Do you need a receipt?”
“Can you email it to me? My details are on my file.”
“Of course. Have a great day, Ms. Monroe.”
“Uh, thanks. You too.” Becky gave her a brief, distracted smile as she tucked her credit card inside her wallet. She was running late for a meeting with a client, she still needed to go to the bank before it closed, and she was unsure of what to make of Dr. Saunders’ cryptic prognosis. According to her doctor, there was nothing wrong with her that ‘a good vacation wouldn’t fix’. When Becky asked Dr. Saunders to elaborate, she’d received another question in return: When was the last time you took some time off?
“You dropped this.” The smiling receptionist had moved out from behind the reception desk. She stooped to pick something up off the floor and she passed Becky a colorful brochure. “Let me get that for you.” She swung the exit door open wide, allowing a gust of frigid wind to whip into the reception area and cut around Becky’s legs. “Make sure you keep yourself warm out there.”
“Thanks.” Becky shoved the brochure into her handbag without looking at it. She’d picked it up from the magazine table while she waited for Dr. Saunders and she hadn’t intended on taking it with her. She ducked her head and ran across the parking lot to her car as the first spots of rain began to fall.
By the time Becky arrived at the coffee shop where she was meeting Dorinda Lucas, those few drops of rain had transformed into a deluge. Cursing her lack of an umbrella, she scuttled through the puddles and rushed into the welcome warmth of Coffee & Croissants. Dorinda narrowed her eyes at her from her seat at a table in the corner before dismissively turning away to stare out the window. Becky groaned inwardly. She knew that look.
“I’m so sorry I’m late, Dorinda. My last appointment ran over time. Can I get you a coffee?”
Dorinda sighed heavily, not attempting to hide her displeasure. She reached for her apricot-colored designer handbag and sat it on the table in front of her. “My time is just as precious as yours is, Becky. I’m about to rush off to collect Chantelle from school and from there we’re going straight to her ballet class.”
Becky struggled to keep her face pleasantly interested in what Dorinda had to say. She could feel an icy drop of water running under her collar and down her back, her hair hung around her face like sodden rat tails, and she was sure she’d snapped the heel on her shoe as she ran across the pot-holed parking lot. Not only that, but she was positive Dorinda would turn down the proposal she’d spent most of last night working on despite her vow not to take work home. “I’m happy to reschedule if it suits you better.”
“You have ten minutes,” Dorinda snapped. “Make it good.”
“Ten minutes is plenty of time to make an excellent start on your house sale plans. I’m sure you’ll love what I’ve come up with.” Becky hurriedly shrugged off her coat and threw it over the back of the chair. “Have you considered using a staging company to show off your home to its best advantage? It’s a great idea for both the photos and the buyer walk-throughs. It’s a competitive market for homes in your price range at present and we need to do all we can to position your property for a good sale.”
It was dark by the time Becky finally turned into the driveway of the house she shared with her boyfriend and up-and-coming city councilor Michael Burton. She’d made it to the bank before it closed after receiving a terse ‘maybe’ from Dorinda at the completion of her proposal, but then she’d detoured to the grocery market. Unfortunately, that decision had led to her becoming trapped in peak hour traffic and the crawl home through the wet streets had been slow and tedious.
She turned off the engine and sat where she was for a few minutes, allowing the events of the day to wash over her. She was successful in her job as a realtor, very successful despite the challenges thrown out by the Dorinda Lucas’s of the property world. Her name above the door of the downtown realty office she’d started up with her best friend from high school, Sasha Freeman attested to that, along with the healthy state of her bank account. The city of Portland, Oregon where she lived and worked was an historic shipping port divided by the mighty Willamette River, and its modern trendy atmosphere and myriad of vibrant bars and eating places were a magnet for the hipster crowd. On top of that, the local real estate market was pumping.
She’d phoned Sasha to check in while she was at the market, catching her friend and business partner as she prepared for an evening open house showing. Sasha gently scolded her when she relayed the doctor’s words, telling her that she’d been saying the same thing to her for weeks now. Becky had laughed it off, telling Sasha she’d think about it, but the notion was beginning to gain more appeal by the minute. Sasha had ended the call with a throwaway remark that at least she knew she wasn’t pregnant but her comment had carried a unexpected sting. Becky hadn’t admitted it to anyone, not even Sasha, but when she made the doctors’ appointment she’d vaguely wondered if she might be expecting. Dr. Saunders had quickly confirmed that she wasn’t but the negative result was surprisingly disappointing. The chance to step away from her busy job and dedicate her time to happily raising Michael’s baby was more than a little tempting.
Becky collected up her things from the seat beside her and opened the car door. The rain had eased off but the temperature was steadily dropping. They’d forecasted snow showers for later in the week and another cold winter loomed. She shivered as she unlocked the front door, looking forward to stepping into the centrally heated interior. Michael often teased her that the house was hers rather than his as she was the one who found it, negotiated the price, and bought it all in one crazy afternoon while Michael was out of state but she didn’t mind his teasing. This gorgeous house with its high ceilings, scrolled cornices, latticed windows, and polished wooden floors was her idea of heaven and would be the perfect home in which to raise a family one day.
A sudden noise at the side of the house startled her. She stared at the shadows, unsure if
she’d seen a movement or only imagined it. “Who’s there? Lucifer, is that you?”
She waited for a non-existent response from her cat before hurrying into the house and slamming the door behind her. Portland’s rate of homeless people had increased exponentially over the past few years and even though their house wasn’t in an area known to have a large problem, the issue had been expanding throughout the city. The thought of a stranger lurking around out there in the darkness was disturbing. She locked the door behind her and left the outside light on for Michael.
Becky threw her handbag onto the sofa as she passed through the living room on the way to the kitchen, switching on lights as she went. It still gave her a thrill to walk through her home, a physical and endlessly appealing monument to just how far she’d come. She trailed her fingers along the elegant Italian marble countertop then reached into the cupboard for a wine glass.
“Brrrrp.” Lucifer, their Burmese cat, twined himself around her legs, having apparently spent the day locked indoors. She bent to pat his head but he skittered away, uninterested in human touch. He was an aloof creature, only ever seeking affection on his own terms, and sometimes she wondered if she would’ve been better off adopting the furless and vaguely terrifying Sphinx cat that Michael had wanted instead. He’d insisted his choice of pet was supposed to be a loving creature despite its ugliness but Becky’s pleas for the sleek Burmese had won out in the end.
She poured herself a healthy glass of Californian red and kicked off her shoes, leaving them lying where they fell. She felt exhausted, lethargic, and tired right down to her bones. Dr. Saunders and Sasha were both right. Perhaps she did need to take a brief holiday away from the stresses of her life. But where would she go? A vacation with her parents would be anything but restful as they were currently knee deep in home renovations, the family cabin was booked through Airbnb for the next two months, and Michael was in the middle of an important and potentially career-changing project that saw him working late most nights. The thought of jetting off on her own for a solo vacation wasn’t attractive. She was a gregarious, social person and she enjoyed being with other like-minded people. Too much time on her own had not worked well for her in the past.
As she sat down on the sofa, the brochure from the medical center caught her eye from where the corner of the page poked out of her handbag. She pulled it out and looked at it again, smiling at the photo of lush green ferns nestled beneath sparkling swathes of sunlight that held pride of place on the front cover. Far Horizons Retreat Offers A Rejuvenation Week for Mind, Body, & Soul. Relax And Unwind With Friends Who Care. As she stared at the words, the first nudges of an idea began to form.
Chapter Two
Becky sleepily rolled over to face Michael as he pulled back the bedcovers and climbed in beside her. “What time is it?”
“Late. You should be asleep.” He kissed the tip of her nose as he pulled her into his arms, holding her tight against the cold length of his body.
She protested and attempted to wiggle away but he only tightened his grip and nuzzled his chilled face into her neck. “You’re so lovely and warm.”
“Michael!” Lucifer jumped heavily off the bed as she mock-wailed, the cat making his irritation known through the intentional thump of all four feet on the bedroom floor. Becky giggled and relaxed against her boyfriend’s chest. “You’re annoying the cat.”
“Everything I do annoys the cat.” He kissed her again, properly this time. “How was your day?”
“Busy. Tiring. Stressful. Just the usual.” She hesitated, wondering if she should mention her visit to Dr. Saunders. Michael had been nagging her for weeks to reduce her workload and if he knew she was worried enough about her general feeling of malaise to see the doctor it would only give him more ammunition for his argument.
He expertly rolled her over in his arms, pulling her back against him to spoon into the secure cove made by his belly and legs. “I had a meeting with Walt Jefferson tonight. He’s the type of person I need on my side if I decide to run for mayor.”
“You’re still thinking about it?” Michael had bandied this idea around for months now and Becky knew it was a long-held dream of his to rise to a position where he could make a real difference to his community.
“I am still thinking about it and after my meeting with Walt it seems it might become a real possibility.” He pressed his lips against the back of her neck. “How would you like to be married to the mayor one day?”
She sucked in a breath and stared off into the darkness. Michael had mentioned marriage a few times over the past year, although they hadn’t talked too deeply about the subject. She was waiting for the fairy-tale proposal although of course she knew she would say yes the moment he asked.
“Mmmm, you smell good. Have I told you lately how sexy you are?” His kisses became more urgent and Becky turned in his arms and twisted back around to face him again. She’d tell him over breakfast about her vacation plans but for now, a torrid hour of hot, sweaty lovemaking took precedence.
Michael was uncharacteristically short-tempered the next morning, brushing off her attempts to straighten his tie as he stood at the kitchen counter to drink his coffee. She frowned up at him as he batted her hand away. “You’re like a bear with a sore head this morning. You weren’t quite so grouchy when you hopped into bed last night. Or after we’d finished playing our fun, adult games.” She poked her tongue out teasingly after her last comment.
“Sorry. I have a lot on my mind.” He gave her a terse smile over the rim of his coffee cup. “My presentation is due this afternoon and I’m worried that I haven’t done enough.”
“You’ve done plenty. I’m sure they’ll love it.” She glanced at the time on the ornate antique wall clock, a gift from her Mom after her parents returned from their last overseas vacation. “I’m hoping to sign the contract on the Weinstein house this morning.”
“Good girl.” He placed his empty coffee cup in the sink and tapped her fondly on the rear, adding a pinch and a squeeze for good measure. “Have a nice day and don’t work too hard.”
“Oh and Michael, before you go I wanted to show you this.” She removed the magnet that she’d used to fix the Far Horizons Retreat brochure to the refrigerator door and passed the leaflet to him. “I phoned them last evening before you came home. I’ve decided to take everyone’s advice and have a week off, away from the rat race. I’m booked in for five days from the 20th, which is at the end of next week.” She watched his face carefully as he quickly scanned through the leaflet. “Why are you screwing up your nose?”
“Is this hippy shit really you, Becky?” He looked at her doubtfully. “I can’t imagine you sitting around on handwoven mats, nibbling on arugula and ohhhmmming to the rising sun with a bunch of underfed lifestyle freaks.”
“Don’t be like that.” She snatched the brochure out of his hand, feeling strangely defensive. The woman she’d spoken to on the phone last night, Marian Lawson, had sounded lovely. She’d explained that the retreat wasn’t heavy on rules, other than respecting the solitude and privacy of the guests who preferred a quieter break, and she even said they served organic wine with dinner each night. There were yoga and mindfulness workshops available throughout the day, group discussion sessions, massage treatments, and ample opportunities for socializing with other guests over shared meals. It was up to the individual as to how many activities they chose to take part in – they could do everything or nothing. Soothed and enchanted by Marian’s gentle tones and her picturesque descriptions of the retreat, Becky had signed up on the spot.
“Look, I’m glad you’ve finally decided to take a well-deserved week off but is this what you want? You could’ve found something that’s more you.”
“More me? What’s that supposed to mean? What type of vacation do you think is ‘me’?” She could feel her anger rising. She did not want to start the day with an argument. “Can’t you just be happy for me?”
“I already told you that I’m glad you�
�re taking some time off.” He rubbed at his jaw and she could see he was weighing up whether it was worth saying anything more. “Wouldn’t a week at your parents’ cabin at Rhododendron be better? Sasha would probably love to go with you. The two of you could hang out in the woods, sit in the hot tub, and laze around beside the fire drinking wine. Heck, I’m making myself jealous just thinking about it.” He twinkled his eyes at her, clearly hoping to coax her back to her previous good mood.
“They’ve rented their cabin out for two months and no, Sasha wouldn’t love to go to with me. She’s just signed on several new properties and she’s busy for the foreseeable future. We can’t both just walk away and shut the door on the agency.” Becky tacked the pamphlet back on the refrigerator door and smoothed it out with her hand. “I’m going to New Horizons. It’s exactly what I need.”
“Okay. You know best.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead and picked up his briefcase. “I’ll be home late again tonight.”
“Story of your life.” She picked up her handbag from where it sat on the countertop and followed him to the door. “We should go out for dinner on Saturday. I won’t be around next weekend and we need to remember to make time for us.”
“I’d like that.” He strode across the cobblestone drive to his car. “That vindictive cat of yours has been running all over the hood and it’s left its prints everywhere.”
As if on cue, Lucifer pushed past Becky’s legs and ran out of the house, skittering across the cobblestones to disappear into the undergrowth. “He heard you saying mean things about him. Bye, Michael.”
He lifted his hand in a wave but didn’t look back as he unlocked his door and slid in behind the wheel. Becky locked the front door, making sure to punch in the security code, and glanced over at the bushes at the side of the house. She thought she’d heard someone there last night but now, looking at the area in the light of day, it seemed unlikely that anyone would have attempted to hide themselves in such a spot in the midst of a rain storm. The bushes were only waist height and offered little shelter to a fully-grown adult.
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