Coming Home for Christmas

by RaeAnne Thayne

  He hadn’t kissed a woman in years. He’d forgotten how delicious it was to sink into her mouth, to taste her arousal, to feel her tremble at his touch.

  He didn’t need to remember this right now, as he was about to pick her up to go clear his name and then sign divorce papers, damn it. He pushed the memory away.

  “I saw her yesterday,” Megan was saying. “She wandered into Point Made Flowers and Gifts, right in the middle of a Haven Point Helping Hands gathering. When I showed up late, I found her sitting in the middle of the crowd and making wreaths like she belonged there.”

  He frowned. “Really?”

  Why would Elizabeth go to McKenzie Kilpatrick’s florist shop? She and McKenzie had been friends long ago but he wouldn’t have expected her to show up in public like that.

  “Did she tell everyone who she was?”

  “No. If she had, everyone would have been hounding me with questions after she left, but nobody said a word. She introduced herself as Sonia.”

  Sonia. Why had she changed everything, even her name?

  “She doesn’t look at all the same. She’s like a totally different person. I never would have recognized her, if you hadn’t mentioned that she has been coming to town in disguise. What is that about? The plastic surgery, the assumed name. Is she a spy or something?”

  A spy. He hadn’t considered that option. There was another one to add to his list. He supposed anything was possible, but somehow espionage didn’t seem very likely. Elliot would know more about that than Luke.

  Whatever the reason, he would find out in a few hours.

  “How did you know it was her?”

  Megan shrugged. “I can’t explain it, but the moment I walked in, I just knew. I remembered you saying she’s been coming back to town and the woman I saw at McKenzie’s store looked familiar. Not Elizabeth-familiar but still like someone I knew I had seen before. Then I remembered seeing her around town a few times, sitting in the back at baseball games or whatever, wearing sunglasses and scarves like some kind of movie star in hiding. I always thought she was someone’s aunt from out of town or something. I can’t believe I never once suspected it was Elizabeth.”

  He still couldn’t quite believe that part of this puzzle himself. Why had she never come forward? Why the big mystery?

  Nerves twisted through him. He would know everything in a few hours, whether he wanted to or not.

  “I can’t wait for you to have your life back,” Megan said.

  “Yeah. Won’t that be great,” he said, though some part of him couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to have his wife back instead.

  * * *

  His stomach was in knots as he pulled up to the little house on Riverbend Road.

  A snowman smiled from the fenced front yard—a snowman that definitely had not been there the day before.

  Elizabeth must have built it herself sometime the previous day. He tried to picture her out here alone in the snow, rolling a snowball around and around until it was big enough, then another and another.

  The image left him with a strange lump in his throat that he quickly swallowed away. He wouldn’t feel sorry for her. She had made her choices.

  He marched up to the door and rang the doorbell, though it felt strange to do so at his own damn house. She answered a few seconds later, as if she had been waiting for him.

  “Hi. Sorry. I’m almost ready. I just need to finish my hair.”

  Apparently his whole day was centered around females and their hair. “We still have time. The appointment isn’t for another forty-five minutes and it’s only a fifteen-minute drive to Shelter Springs.”

  He was perpetually early, figuring it was better to be too early than too late.

  “I shouldn’t be long.”

  She hurried away, leaving him standing in the living room she had decorated for the holidays. He really needed to get the kids’ tree up. It had been on the agenda for the weekend, but that phone call warning him about his impending arrest had kind of pushed holiday decorating down on his priority list.

  A few moments later, she came out wearing a coat and wrapping what looked to be a new scarf around her neck.

  “Okay. I guess I’m ready.”

  Her hands were trembling, the only sign she gave that she might be nervous. It annoyed him more than it should. She had no right to be nervous. He was the one whose future was at stake here.

  As they walked back outside, they passed that snowman again. “Aren’t you a little old to build snowmen?”

  She looked embarrassed. “I haven’t lived where there’s this much...snow in a long time and couldn’t resist. I...didn’t sleep well last night and finally...decided to go for a walk in the snow early this morning. Building a snowman was a...a whim.”

  He again felt that wave of sympathy, thinking of her out there by herself in the snow, but he pushed it away.

  If she was alone, it was by choice. She had a family who had loved her once and she had walked away from them all.

  He drove in silence down the familiar road around Lake Haven toward Shelter Springs, his mind on the appointment ahead.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Elizabeth said when they were about halfway between the two towns. “I had forgotten.”

  “Beautiful.”

  “Look at how the sun...gleams on the snow. How the trees seem to be...wearing fringy coats. The contrast of blue and white on the lake. All I remembered was...was how dark and cold the winters could be here. Not how...magical life can look after a storm.”

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel. Yeah, it could look magical. Or it could look icy and frozen. It all depended on perspective.

  How was he going to get past the next hour in her company? He hated being attracted to her all over again or the warm, tender feelings trying to take root inside him like the first brave daffodils poking through the snow in the spring.

  Damn her for making him feel again. He didn’t want to. He had turned everything off after she left. She had made him become as cold and sterile as that landscape.

  He pulled into the courthouse parking lot a moment later and turned off the engine.

  “Here we are. Let’s get this done so you can sign the divorce papers and go back to Oregon on the earliest flight.”

  She opened her mouth as if to say something. Instead, she closed it again, reached for her door handle and slid out of the vehicle, leaving him feeling as if he’d just crushed the first daffodil of the year and ground it to dust beneath his boot.

  Chapter Nine

  Divorce.

  She didn’t even like to think about the word. It was ugly and hard and so very final. She had known it was coming. What other possibility was there for them, under the circumstances?

  It still hurt.

  Her stomach ached, probably because she hadn’t been able to swallow anything that morning. She felt shaky, light-headed, and her heart was pounding so hard she was surprised he didn’t say something about it.

  She did some circle breathing in a futile effort to steady her nerves. She had nothing to be nervous about, she reminded herself. She was only here to tell him exactly what had happened seven years ago.

  She could only hope her words didn’t fail her or, heaven forbid, that she didn’t have a seizure right in the middle of this appointment with the district attorney.

  No. She could handle this. She only had to keep her thoughts collected, stick to the truth. Everything she said could be verified. She could bring in plenty of people who had been part of her strange, twisted journey. Doctors, rehab specialists, therapists. John’s sister, Alice.

  She rubbed her suddenly clammy palms on her trousers.

  She could do this. No big deal. All she had to do for this appointment was pretend she was there again in Alice’s safe office with the zero gravity chair and the saltwater aquarium
and the ferns in wicker plant stands.

  The panic receded a little but didn’t completely leave her. She knew it wouldn’t until she was done with this.

  Once the truth was out there, then what?

  She had no idea, which was probably a major reason for her nerves. Would Luke hate her for the choices she had made and her decision to stay away?

  She almost laughed, though she knew there was a touch of hysteria to it. He already hated her. How much more could he despise her?

  The historic courthouse in Shelter Springs, the neighboring town that served as the county seat in the Lake Haven area, was brightly decorated for the holidays. A huge Christmas tree with giant blue and silver ornaments greeted them when they walked inside and garlands had been draped up the steps with more of the huge orbs.

  Her knee felt shaky as she walked beside him. She probably should have brought her cane along, knowing this would be stressful emotionally and physically for her. A little additional support never hurt, wherever she could find it.

  She could do this. She had managed plenty of hard things before.

  He marched purposefully up the staircase, barely looking to make sure she was still coming with him.

  She was almost tempted to turn around and flee through the massive front doors. She had done that once, though, and just look how well that turned out for her.

  She thought about taking the elevator but decided against it. She lived on the second floor of Brambleberry House, despite Rosa’s and Melissa’s repeated efforts to persuade her to move down to Melissa’s apartment on the first floor. Elizabeth needed that climb. It represented far more than the daily effort it took to grip the railing and move one step at a time.

  Just as she made that walk every day, she could do this one. She was only to the landing when Luke must have realized she was not beside him. He came back down and held out an arm, without saying anything.

  She refused it. “I’m fine. I don’t need help.”

  Still, he stayed by her side as she made her slow way up the stairs. He was as tense as she was, she suddenly realized. She had been so wrapped up in her own nerves, she hadn’t really noticed, but now she saw his shoulders were tight, his jaw set.

  On the second floor of the building, he paused outside a door with a brass sign that read Christina Torres, Lake Haven District Attorney.

  “This is it.” His voice was raspy.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you okay? Need some water or something?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  For the first time since he had shown up on her doorstep in Cannon Beach, she saw something like regret on his face. “I’m sorry I had to drag you here. I know you didn’t want to come back and face all the questions. But I have to clear my name.”

  “I know. It doesn’t matter. It’s fine. I was going to...to tell you everything anyway. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s the truth. I’m only sorry it took me so long to feel...strong enough.”

  He looked as if he wanted to say something else but must have decided against it. Instead, he pushed the door and walked inside.

  “Hi, Louise.”

  “Oh. Hi, Mr. Hamilton. You’re here.” The middle-aged receptionist looked suddenly nervous, as any normal woman would be when confronted with a tough, dangerous-looking man who radiated tension.

  “Yeah. Is she back?”

  “Yes. She came in on the red-eye. She’s had a long night. Are you sure you don’t want to reschedule?”

  “No. I want to get this over with.”

  “All right. Ms. Torres is on another call right now but should be ready for you in a moment. Go ahead and take a seat.”

  She forced a smile at them both, stealing furtive looks at Elizabeth. Her nameplate read Louise Reeder and she seemed familiar in one of those I swear I know you somehow ways, but she couldn’t quite place her. She thought perhaps Louise had worked at the hospital where Elizabeth had given birth to Cassie and Bridger.

  Luke chose to stand but Elizabeth was afraid her knees wouldn’t support her much longer. She sank onto the sofa, feeling self-conscious. Those furtive looks were becoming more obvious. No doubt the receptionist was curious about her identity, wondering if she really was the elusive Elizabeth Sinclair Hamilton.

  How shortsighted she had been. Why had it never occurred to her that people might not believe her when she said she was Elizabeth?

  What if all this was for nothing and Luke ended up being arrested and going on trial anyway?

  Her stomach ached again and she pressed a hand to the nerves fluttering there. Oh, how she wished Melissa or Rosa could be here with her. She wasn’t sure she had the strength to get through this on her own.

  She focused again on her breathing. By the time the receptionist’s phone buzzed fifteen minutes later, Elizabeth hadn’t quite achieved a level of zen but most of her nausea had subsided.

  Luke, on the other hand, looked more and more grim with every passing moment.

  “She’s ready for you now,” the receptionist said stiffly.

  “Thanks, Louise,” Luke said. He headed for the attorney’s door. Again, Elizabeth fought the urge to rush out the office and down the stairs, but she took one last deep breath and followed him.

  “Good luck,” she thought she heard Louise mutter, which struck her as more ominous than encouraging.

  The district attorney’s office had that sort of pretentious, over-fancy look of some bureaucratic spaces. Designed to either impress or intimidate, it was dark-paneled and oppressive, with heavy lamps and built-in bookshelves that displayed precisely ordered law books.

  Behind the massive desk was an incongruously diminutive woman several inches shorter than Elizabeth, slight with elegant salt-and-pepper hair cut in a pageboy. A plate on her desk read Christina Torres, District Attorney. She seemed young for such a weighty job.

  She didn’t rise to greet them but gestured to two chairs in front of her desk. “Mr. Hamilton. It’s highly irregular for me to talk to you without your attorney present.”

  “I don’t need or want my attorney. I told you that before and I’ll say it again. That’s also exactly what I told him.”

  “You should know I will be recording this discussion. I am an officer of the court and you should know that anything you say can and will be used against you.”

  “Since you took over as acting DA, you’ve made it clear you are hell-bent on charging me in the disappearance of my wife, any way you can. Evidence or not. You won’t listen to your own law enforcement officers when they assure you my wife isn’t dead.”

  “You mean Sheriff Bailey, the brother of FBI Special Agent Elliot Bailey, who will be marrying your sister in a few months? I wonder why I have chosen to take his counsel with a grain of salt.”

  He frowned. “Because you’re an obstinate lawyer who came into office with a preconceived grudge against me and feel like you have something to prove in order to keep your temporary office. You think a sensational murder trial is the way to stir up publicity and keep your name in the headlines so you can win the next election. We both know I’m a pawn to your political aspirations.”

  Elizabeth might have chosen a more conciliatory approach. She didn’t think antagonizing the woman was the best way to persuade her to a different point of view. But what did she know?

  “You say I don’t have evidence but an independent review of the case file by the state bureau of investigation says otherwise.”

  “They only looked at the skewed facts you fed them.”

  “You have to admit, those facts look damning, Mr. Hamilton. You can’t deny the police were called on a domestic disturbance only a few days before your wife disappeared.”

  Oh. She had completely forgotten that day. Elizabeth cringed. Luke hadn’t hurt her. She had been the one out of control that day, on a new medication that had bizarre and u
nwanted side effects. That was the day she had begged him to tell her he thought their family would be better off without her.

  Luke had been patient when she cried and yelled and begged him to divorce her and find someone healthy. Unfortunately, some of this had happened on the front lawn, where some people who were house-sitting for neighbors had seen. They had ended up calling the police, which had sobered her enough, and she had slept for twelve hours straight.

  Oh, she had been a hot mess. Why hadn’t he filed for divorce?

  “That was a misunderstanding, as I’ve explained to you and to the police. And to your predecessors numerous times over the past seven years. None of them found sufficient cause to arrest me, but the facts of the case don’t appear to matter to you. You won’t listen to your own law enforcement officers and you won’t listen to me. The only way I can think to clear my name is for you to hear it from the horse’s mouth.”

  She wasn’t sure how she liked being a horse’s mouth but she supposed it beat the other end.

  “Christina Torres, I’d like you to meet my wife. Elizabeth Sinclair Hamilton.”

  Instead of looking impressed by this dramatic declaration, the district attorney merely raised an eyebrow.

  “You really think I’m going to fall for that?”

  “Fall for what?”

  “You say this is your wife but she looks nothing like the pictures I’ve seen of Elizabeth. You probably just hired some two-bit actress to pretend to be your wife. Do you have any idea how much trouble you could be in for this prank?”

  “It’s no prank,” Elizabeth said. To her dismay, her voice wobbled. “I am...the woman he says I am. His...wife.”

  Not for long, but that was beside the point.

  Christina Torres leaned forward and focused a laser-sharp gaze on her. “Exactly what I would expect a paid actress to say. Where’s the proof?”

  As Elizabeth Sinclair Hamilton, she had never had reason to be fingerprinted, so she couldn’t offer that as proof. “My word is all I have now, but if you need further...evidence, you can test my DNA against my...children.”