Her Good Name

by Josi S. Kilpack

  She shut the door to her car and went to get the mail as the kids ran inside. The post office was forwarding her bills now, but she and Doug weren’t sharing money yet. Maybe in a few more months. She’d been working full-time since Marius had left four years ago, and she wanted more time at home with the kids. In fact, they’d talked about Livvy cutting down to part-time once her house sold and they could refinance Doug’s farmhouse to a lower payment—they were expecting an offer on Livvy’s house sometime today. Livvy was looking forward to the future.

  Right on top of the stack of mail was a purple envelope without a stamp, meaning it had been put there by someone other than the mailman. Livvy knew right away it was from Chrissy. Her sister’s flowery handwriting was scrawled across the front. If Doug were home, he wouldn’t want her to open it. He’d had a lot to say about how he felt about Chrissy. But Livvy missed her older sister, despite still being mad, and frustrated, and tired of being judged. But besides all of that, Chrissy was the only person who had always been there for her. And now, even with Doug and the kids, she couldn’t overcome her feelings of loneliness. She and Chrissy had never gone this long without speaking.

  She hurried to open the letter while walking toward the garbage can on the south side of the house. She’d read it and throw it away immediately so Doug wouldn’t know.

  Inside the purple envelope was a simple card with tulips on the front. Tulips were Livvy’s favorite flower. The fact that Chrissy knew that, and found a card that reflected it, made Livvy miss her even more. Why did things have to be so complicated between them? If only Chrissy hadn’t become a Mormon. If only she had even once loved a man so much that she was willing to make sacrifices to be with him.

  Why did they have to be so different?

  Livvy,

  I’m so sorry for taking the kids. I thought they had worked it out with you or I never would have brought them over. I worry about you—probably too much—but I love you, and I love your kids. I’m leaving for California for a few days. Trying to clear up some bank and credit things that have turned into quite a bear. When I get back, if you feel up to it, I’d like to meet you somewhere. Maybe I could come to your work? I have some things of the kids’ that I’ve found around the house, and I miss you. I hope things are going well for you and Doug. Please hug the kids for me.

  Love you,

  Chrissy

  Chapter 59

  San Diego, California

  Here is all the information on the southern drug line,” she said to Eduardo, handing him a stack of files. They were in the small office she’d rented last week after Frederico had confronted her. She didn’t want to take any chances of him finding out what she was doing—stealing her power, taking her glory. “You will start taking over my communications with our dealers immediately. Remember, we are running a business, not simply a drug trade.”

  “Right,” he said, taking the folder.

  The sound of a door opening caused both of them to snap their heads to the side and stare. Frederico stood in the doorway, glaring.

  “Get out of here,” Chressaidia said, standing up from the cheap desk she’d been using. How had he found her in the first place? Her heart was racing with the dual emotions of anger and fear. She didn’t want him involved, didn’t want him to have any part in this.

  “Go,” Frederico said to Eduardo. He turned to look at Chressaidia and she nodded at him. Should she need to, she could defend herself. Her two-shot pistol was with her all the time now; and she was no longer simply Frederico’s subservient wife. She had power all her own and had done in a month what he hadn’t accomplished in almost a year. She’d more than proven herself worthy of her hire.

  Eduardo left, and Frederico shut the door, locking it, before approaching her. She didn’t flinch, holding his eyes without blinking.

  “You think you can do this to me?” he said, his voice low and angry. “You think you can just take over?”

  “I already have,” she replied, lifting her chin. “Your work here is done.”

  “No,” Frederico said and he launched himself at her, grabbing her arm. She pulled back hard, trying to free herself from his grasp, but he tightened his large fingers and yanked her closer toward him. With his other hand, he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. “You will not do this to me,” he hissed through his teeth.

  Chressaidia sucked in a lungful of air, but said nothing as her free hand reached slowly into the pocket of her jeans.

  He pulled on her hair again, yanking her head back even farther. “You are only a woman,” he said into her ear.

  “And you are an addict,” she shot back, her nostrils flaring as she took deep breaths. Her entire skull was burning. “Which is why these lines were failing. You cannot use the product and rule effectively. If not for me, everyone would know this already. I’ve protected you.”

  He growled deep in his throat and tightened his hold on her. “You’ve ruined me!” he said. “I’ll kill you before I’ll let you dishonor me this way.”

  It took less than a second to pull the pistol from her pocket, press it against his stomach, and pull the trigger. The popping sound it made was deceiving in its muted execution. It was only a .22 so the damage was minimal, but she still had another bullet and she was well-trained enough to know how to use it to her best advantage.

  Frederico released her and staggered backward, clutching his stomach, his eyes wide as he stared at her. She walked toward him as his back hit the wall.

  “I have always known,” she said with perfect calmness, “that one day I would find my place within the ranks of my father’s army.”

  Frederico slid to the floor, his face confused. The drugs had made him too weak to fight her. Chressaidia stood over him, looking down at him with contempt. He narrowed his eyes and reached toward her, but she kicked him in the stomach, making him scream in pain and crumble even more.

  She crouched down and placed the gun beneath his chin, pointing the barrel toward the back of his skull. Her aim would need to be perfect. He swallowed against the barrel and looked her in the eye, pleading with her through his pain. His fingers clenched and unclenched against his stomach, his hand slick with the blood he could not stop.

  She cocked her head to the side and stared at him, wanting to remember every detail of the look on his face. “I suppose I still have you to thank for the reward I will be given when the army learns the truth.” She pulled the trigger. His head snapped back with the impact and his eyes were instantly vacant. She lowered her hand and turned away, checking her clothes to see if she’d gotten any blood on them.

  Three small knocks sounded at the door and she went to it, unlocked the bolt, and let Eduardo back in. He looked at Frederico’s body and then at her with surprise and a little bit of fear.

  “We need to pack up,” she said, returning the pistol to her pocket and basking in the power she felt radiating through her whole body. This was what it felt like to be a warrior, a soldier in her father’s army, fighting the war for her country. “We won’t be able to use this office anymore.”

  Chapter 60

  Idaho Falls, Idaho

  Sunday, June 1

  Is your brother awake?” Micah called to Mallory as he hurried down the hall Sunday morning, his tie, unknotted and loose around his neck. By the smell of things, his toast was burning.

  “I don’t know,” Mallory countered from her room. The door stood open and she was putting on her makeup in front of the mirror. The new carpet looked great; he only wished the remnant had been big enough for the living room too.

  Micah turned around and went back to Blake’s room, pounding on the door for the third time. “Blake, get up!”

  “I’m up,” Blake called from inside, and by the sound of things he was at least vertical. “Gosh,” he muttered as Micah headed back toward the kitchen. They’d all slept in this morning, and church started in ten minutes. Micah hated the nine o’clock block.

  He pulled his toast from the toaster
and buttered it, trying to keep the ends of his tie from getting in the butter. Mallory came into the kitchen and started working on her own toast. She was dressed in a long black skirt, flip-flops, and a bright-pink top that was too tight for church. But they were already late, and Micah didn’t have time for the argument they’d have if he told her to change.

  Blake came around the corner of the kitchen and looked at the two of them. “It’s Fast Sunday, you heathens.”

  Micah looked at his toast at the exact moment his stomach rumbled and someone knocked on the front door.

  “I got it,” Blake called, turning toward the living room.

  Micah wondered who on earth would be visiting them right before church.

  “Oh, hi,” Blake said. “You looking for my dad?”

  “Um, yeah, just for a minute.”

  Micah froze at the sound of Chrissy’s voice. In a split second, he relived their kiss. He’d already relived it a hundred times, but now she was here, a few yards away. He went to put his toast down on the counter but it fell from his fingers and left a trail of butter and crumbs on his shirt and slacks as it tumbled to the floor.

  “Shoot,” he said under his breath, reaching for a napkin and trying to dab at the spots on his shirt while stalling having to go into the living room. His heart was pounding. What is she doing here? Mallory was watching him when he looked up, an accusation on her face. He threw the napkin on the counter and avoided her eyes on his way to the door. Should he be mad Chrissy had come here after he told her they couldn’t see each other? In the next instant he found himself wondering if there was anything he could do that would make her kiss him again.

  “Um, hi,” he said, striding quickly to the door. She hadn’t come inside; the screen door stood between them. Blake stood to the side as if waiting to see what would happen, but Micah gave him a look as he passed and Blake retreated to the kitchen.

  “Hi,” Chrissy said. “I’m really sorry to bug you and I know you’ve got church, but I need those statements I left here. I’ve got copies of everything but the Providian and the Chase.”

  It took Micah a minute to catch up. He tried to ignore the disappointment that she hadn’t come to see him. But he didn’t want her to do that anyway, right? “Um, sure,” he said. He stepped forward and pushed open the screen door. “Come on in, I’ll get them.”

  “I’ll just wait here,” she said, taking a step backward. She was dressed in white, knee-length shorts, that red polka-dot top he liked so much, and red-heeled sandals—in a word, stunning. But her tone was formal, and her expression guarded, like it had been on Friday—before the kiss. He knew she was hiding her feelings from him and felt horrible. He liked the out-there Chrissy, who was intense, who had plenty to say because she always said what she thought. But she was keeping that Chrissy away from him now. It was no less than he deserved, but he wished he could explain things better to her. However, she didn’t have kids. She’d never even been married. She wouldn’t understand and he couldn’t think of any way to say it that didn’t sound as if he were searching for forgiveness. There was no answer. It was what it was—two people with strong feelings for one another, and two kids who rendered those feelings inconsequential.

  “You can come in,” he said again. Please come in, he thought. Let me feel a little bit redeemed.

  “I’ll wait out here.”

  He finally gave in and headed to the office. He pulled the file he’d labeled Chrissy out of the desk drawer. Why hadn’t he given the statements back when he dropped off the book? Was he subconsciously hoping to see her again? He wouldn’t put it past his rebellious heart that had not yet made peace with what he’d done.

  He started thumbing through the file, looking for the copies of what she needed, then realized he ought to give her everything. His stomach sank. He wasn’t a part of this anymore. He’d made that perfectly clear to her, so why was he still holding on to the file that would surely bring her back?

  “Here’s everything I’ve got,” he said when he returned a minute later, opening the screen door and handing the file to her. “Sorry I forgot to give them back.” He kept the screen door open and looked at her, visualizing her the last time he’d seen her in this shirt—soaking wet and running after kids with a hose. That day, he’d thought about how much had changed since their first date. Now he thought about how much had changed since that water fight. Where was a rewind button when you needed it?

  “No big deal,” she said, holding the file in front of her.

  “Can I ask why you need them today?”

  Her eyes flashed briefly, as if to say, “It’s none of your business anymore, remember?” but she looked away before he could be sure. “I’m going to California,” she said, tucking some of her thick, dark hair behind her ear.

  Micah stepped forward, “Are you kidding?”

  Chrissy raised her chin. “No,” she said bluntly.

  “What about your bond? You can’t leave the state, can you?”

  Chrissy shrugged as if she didn’t know the answer, but he suspected she did.

  “You’re going alone?” he asked.

  “I lived in California for almost ten years and I know how to take care of myself.”

  “But—”

  “Micah,” she said, cutting him off. “You’re the one who said no one would fight harder for me than I would. I’ve got a PO Box where the statements were mailed. I’ve got a copy of the original police report and the complaint I filed. I’ve left half a dozen messages for my new attorney and he’s not calling me back. Detective Ross won’t be back until Tuesday. I’ve got my original birth certificate, my dad’s papers, and a copy of my high school yearbook. I’m out to prove who I am, to get this taken care of so I can get on with my life. Who knows, maybe I’ll run into the other Chrissy while I’m down there and give her a piece of my mind.”

  “But . . .” Micah said, trying not to sound like a parent, and not doing a very good job of it. “I just don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  She held his eyes for a moment, but then turned without saying another word and headed for her car, her heels tapping on the sidewalk. He glanced over his shoulder to see both Blake and Mallory watching him from the kitchen. Blake looked curious; Mallory looked suspicious. He hesitated another minute, then hurried after Chrissy, catching up a few feet away from her car.

  “Chrissy,” he said.

  She turned and looked at him with exasperation but said nothing, making him do the talking.

  Micah racked his brain for what he could say to her, what he should say to her. “Can you afford it?”

  “Can I afford not to?” she replied. “I’ll be fine.” She started to move toward her car again.

  “But you don’t have a credit card,” he added. “How will you get a rental car or hotel room? You’re not leaving now are you?”

  “I’m driving my own car so I’ll get there by nightfall,” she said. “And . . .” She paused and her face closed off again. “This isn’t your problem.” She reached for the door handle.

  “Wait,” Micah said, still searching for something he could do. Maybe he couldn’t stop her, but he wanted to help. Whether it was inflated chivalry or some kind of gut instinct, he didn’t know, but he didn’t feel good about this. “Let me get you some money.”

  “I don’t want your money,” she said as if disgusted with the offer.

  “It’s okay,” Micah said, smiling and putting his hands out to indicate that he wanted her to wait. “I’ve got some cash. It’ll help.” He turned toward the house.

  “No,” Chrissy said strongly. “I don’t want—”

  “I’ll be right back,” he called as he ran in the front door. Chrissy mumbled something under her breath, but it was in Spanish so he couldn’t know what she’d said even if he’d heard it well.

  “We’re late for church,” Mallory said when he got inside. He ignored her and passed both kids who were now in the living room, watching. He hurried to his bedroom. He grabbed
his wallet from the dresser and opened it, counting out just over two hundred dollars. It was almost his full month of spending money, but it wasn’t much to help with a road trip of a thousand miles. Maybe he could run to an ATM real fast. He held the bills in one hand and ran back to the front door . . . just in time to see Chrissy’s car disappear down the street. He pushed the screen open and walked outside slowly, staring at the corner.

  “She said to tell you thanks anyway,” Blake said from behind him. Micah felt his shoulders fall.

  “Um, is she going to be okay?” Mallory asked.

  Micah didn’t know how to answer that and turned to face his kids. Blake looked worried, Mallory looked confused as to how she should feel—Micah could relate to both. He absolutely hated that Chrissy was going alone, hated that helping her would go against the boundaries he’d set.

  “You heard her,” he said, trying to put on a brave face. “She can take care of herself.”

  Oh, please, help her take care of herself.

  Chapter 61

  Idaho Falls, Idaho

  Monday, June 2

  When Monday came, and Micah’s alarm clock woke him

  up, the very first thing he thought of was Chrissy. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head all day yesterday, either. He’d talked briefly to Cam about her at church but didn’t want to make a big deal about how worried he was. Cam agreed that it was crazy, but, like Chrissy, brought up the fact that she was very familiar with California.

  “What does she have to lose?” he’d asked, looking at Micah in a way that made Micah feel responsible for her decision.

  And yet, what did she have to lose? The thought made him feel even worse. Had he done the right thing when he called off their date? He immediately told himself he’d done what he had to do. He couldn’t take the chance of making things more complicated for his children. His breaking their date was not the reason she left.