by Alison Stone
You let someone get away with it. The familiar, mocking voice threaded its way through her brain, not helping her headache. Not one bit.
This is not about me, her rational voice countered. This is about Naomi.
Determined not to let her doubts pull her off course, Naomi drove toward the barn then wondered if she had gotten turned around. She wasn’t exactly the queen of directions. A car with an attached trailer sat in the driveway. It wasn’t until Christina drove past that she saw the unmistakable Sold sign and the barn behind it.
Her pulse raced in her ears and her mouth went dry.
Ignoring all the alarm bells in her head, Christina slowed to a near crawl. The front door was propped open, as if movers were bringing in boxes. Her heart raced as she heard Dylan’s stern warning not to do any investigating on her own. Then anger seeped in to replace her anxiousness. What right did he have to tell her what to do?
What harm could it do to knock on the door and welcome new neighbors to the small town? People still did that right? She had never done it, but people did. Indecision had her shifting her foot from the brake to the accelerator.
Go to work.
Go. Go. Go.
No. No. No.
Before she had a chance to overthink it, she glanced in the side mirror, the rearview mirror and over her shoulder, then made a sharp U-turn. She slowed and turned into the driveway and parked next to the trailer and climbed out.
As she approached the house, she promised herself she wouldn’t go inside, instead staying out in the bright sunlight. What could happen out here? She knew better, but she couldn’t stop herself. Naomi’s sweet face flashed in her mind. She had to do this for Naomi.
Christina hadn’t yet figured out exactly what she’d say when a frail woman appeared in the doorway, her head wrapped in colorful fabric. The woman came up short, surprise evident on her pale face. She hadn’t been expecting anyone.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Christina smiled, suddenly feeling foolish.
The woman’s skin seemed translucent. Dark shadows marred the skin under her eyes. The vibrancy of her blue eyes wasn’t diminished by the lack of lashes or brows. The pretty scarf hid what was no doubt a bald head. A hesitant smile graced the woman’s thin lips. “May I help you?”
Christina blinked rapidly. Not planning ahead hadn’t been a good idea. It was so unlike her. She had always planned ahead. College. Med School. Clinic in Apple Creek.
Check. Check. Check.
Yet here she was, gesturing awkwardly toward her car, partially hidden by the trailer. “I was driving by the house and noticed someone was moving in. I thought I’d stop by and welcome you to Apple Creek.” She really wished she had thought to stop by the diner to pick up one of Flo’s pies or something. Well, truth be told, she hadn’t expected to see cars in the driveway or to stop when she had.
“Thank you.” The woman’s reply came out more like a question.
“My name’s Christina Jennings. I’m a physician at the healthcare clinic in town.”
The woman nodded slowly, as if she was still trying to figure out what this woman was doing in her front yard. “Any relation to Nick Jennings?”
“Yes.” Christina smiled. “He’s my brother.”
“Small town, right? I knew him from way back when. Actually my husband knew him. My name’s Linda, by the way.”
Before Christina had a chance to ask her more questions, Linda descended the steps and crossed over to the trailer. The back doors were yawning open. The woman reached in and slid a box toward the edge of the trailer and stopped. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to chat. I have a lot of work to do.”
Christina glanced toward the house, wondering if this woman was alone. “Can I help?”
The woman blinked slowly. “No, thank you.” She leaned her hip on the back of the trailer, as if the short walk had drained her. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. I’m tired and there’s so much to do. My son and his father are supposed to help me, but apparently there’s some work to be done on the mechanicals in the basement.” She lifted a thin shoulder. “Figures the first thing we realized this morning was there was no hot water.” She frowned. “We had some work done on the house for the past few months. Then we moved a lot of the big stuff in last week, but we had cleaning and the rest of the packing to finish before we could completely move in. It’s been a long road, but we’re almost there...” She drew in a deep breath, then exhaled. “And I’m tired.” She shook her head and gave a weary smile. “Wow, didn’t mean to unload on a complete stranger.”
Compassion warmed Christina’s heart. “Moving is a lot of work. I moved not long ago myself.” She remembered the cleaning and the sorting and the lifting, and she had been healthy. Christina couldn’t imagine the strain on top of a serious illness.
“Had you moved away from Apple Creek?”
“Oh, no, I just recently relocated a little farther out into the country. I like the space.” Christina didn’t mention that she grew up in the large house on the escarpment. Her parents’ sprawling estate was a landmark of sorts in town, an oddity. However, depending on how well Linda knew her brother, she might already know all that. “How about you? What brings you to Apple Creek?”
A shaky hand went to the woman’s head covering. “My son, Matty, and I lived only ten minutes away. We were in a rental. His father—” there was something about the way she said “his father” and not “my husband” that was very telling, or maybe Christina was reading too much into it “—recently got a job in Apple Creek.” She held out her palm. “So here we are. Looks like we’ll be here for a while.”
“I hope you enjoy your new home.” Christina shrugged off a vague sense that she used to know this woman.
Linda looked around, as if tuning into her surroundings for the first time. “All this space...this far out in the country. It’ll take some getting used to.” Her words had a wistful tone. “It seems so remote.”
Christina found her opening. “Well, there’s another reason I stopped by.”
“Oh?” Worry lines creased Linda’s eyes.
“Was anyone in your barn last night?”
“No.” Her answer seemed too abrupt. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, it’s just...well...” Christina stammered. She never stammered. Her comment to Dylan last night that she wasn’t some cartoon-character sleuth was about to come back to haunt her. That’s exactly how she was acting. Unprepared. Foolish. Babbling. “I was driving by here and I thought I saw some activity by the barn.”
Linda frowned. “I’m not aware of anything, but I didn’t stay here. We arrived this morning.”
“Did your husband or son stay here?”
She hesitated for a moment and the color heightened in her cheeks. “No, we were too busy packing for the big move.” Linda stifled a yawn. “The move is wearing me out. I really need to get back to work.” Her tone reflected her frustration and embarrassment heated Christina’s cheeks. She was usually socially aware, but she didn’t want to leave so easily. She wanted to find out more about the barn party held here last night.
Linda pulled the box from the edge of the truck and its weight seemed to pull on her arms. “I better take this in. Nice meeting you.”
Christina wrapped her arms around the edge of the box, taking the brunt of the weight. “Please let me do that.”
“Thank you.” She released her grip on the box. “I need to learn how to accept help. I’m not as strong as I once was.”
“You’re welcome.” Perhaps God had placed Christina here for this one small kindness today, to help her get out of her own head and her own problems.
Linda hurried ahead of Christina, leading the way. Christina was grateful the box wasn’t that heavy. Once they stepped into the foyer, Linda pointed to another box. “P
lease, put it next to that one.” The smells of fresh paint and new carpeting permeated the air.
Christina pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded. She placed the box on top of another one. She didn’t envy the work ahead of this woman. “If you need anything, please feel free to contact me. I’m only a few minutes away in town. At the healthcare clinic, as I mentioned before.”
Linda waved her hand in dismissal, then her eyes brightened. “Thank you.” She lifted her fingers to the scarf wrapped around her head.
“If you need help with any of this...” Christina held her hand out to the boxes scattered around the foyer.
Linda shook her head. “There’s two able-bodied men who live here. They can get after these boxes.”
Christina laughed. “Well, I do run the clinic. So, if you need anything in that regard...”
“I’m getting the best possible treatment at Roswell Park in Buffalo. It’s a bit of a drive...but...”
“Oh, yes, Roswell is well respected. I guess I meant if you needed anything and didn’t want to drive all the way into Buffalo.” Christina was careful about how she worded things.
Deep voices could be heard floating up through the vents from the basement. Christina glanced around the cozy house that was still in need of a little TLC, but would surely make a comfortable home. She brushed at the dust on her pants. “Nice to meet you, Linda. Can I bring in a few more boxes before I go?”
Linda shook her head vigorously. “Oh, no... I’ve already imposed too much. Thank you for stopping by. I appreciate your introducing yourself to me.” The poor woman had probably thought a local gossip had alerted the town doctor that a woman with cancer had moved in, when that was not the case at all.
However, would the truth be any better? That Christina had stopped by to see if the occupants had held an underage drinking party on their property? But it seemed—like Cheryl had said—some teenagers had taken advantage of an empty house to party. More than likely, they wouldn’t be back now that the house was occupied.
“If you see anyone out back, perhaps hanging around your barn, can you call me?”
“Um...sure.” Linda took the business card with Christina’s contact information on it and turned it over in her hands. An unease rolled off Linda’s thin frame. “Do you think that’s something I need to be worried about?”
“It was probably teenagers.” Christina feared she had already said too much. She cleared her throat and rubbed her hands together. “I should go. Please call if you see anything...or if you need anything.”
“Who are you talking to?” A gruff male voice sounded from the back of the house, sending goose bumps racing across Christina’s skin.
Linda held out her arm and began to usher Christina toward the door. “Thanks again, Christina. I’ll definitely contact you if I need anything.”
Christina stepped outside, the door still propped open.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your visitor?” The man’s voice got closer. Christina spun around and froze in her tracks.
He had more lines at the corners of his eyes and less hair on his head, but he had the same darkness in his eyes and smug look on his thin lips.
Roger Everett. Her brother Nick’s good friend. A captain in the army. That’s how Linda knew her brother. Christina thought she had looked familiar, but her illness had made her gaunt.
Roger Everett. The name of the man she’d never forget.
The man who had attacked her several years ago.
The man she had been too afraid to accuse.
And now he was here, back in Apple Creek.
THREE
“Christina? Christina Jennings? Is that you?” Roger Everett’s lips curved into a smarmy grin—could only she see that?—yet his tone was that of a long-lost friend. Christina felt all the blood drain from her face and she sent up a silent prayer that she wouldn’t pass out right there.
Roger lifted his arms as if to embrace her and Christina held up her hands to block him. “Roger Everett.” The two words spilled out of her mouth. The smile plastered on her face—a smile for his wife’s benefit—hid the icy terror pumping through her veins.
“You remember Nick’s sister?” Linda asked, curiosity in her large eyes. “I don’t recall having met her before. When did you meet her?”
“Of course I met little Christina Jennings. Oh, wait, she’s Dr. Christina Jennings now.”
Linda squinted at her. “I don’t...”
“I’m not sure we ever met. Maybe only in passing,” Christina stammered.
“How is Nick?” Roger asked, carrying on this cheery charade.
“Good.” Christina’s heart was nearly rioting out of her chest, but she had to keep her cool. She’d had a lot of practice playing it cool under fire. She was a physician, after all. “You haven’t seen him lately?”
“Ah, ya know. Now and again. Everyone’s so busy, especially now that he has a little one. How is the baby?”
“Fine.” Christina didn’t want to give this man any more information about her family than necessary. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I saw the trailer...” Christina stared at him as the walls in the foyer swayed.
Since Christina had refused to accuse Roger of wrongdoing soon after he attacked her, she wasn’t about to start now. His wife was ill. Christina didn’t want to cause her any more stress. “I was...on my way out.” She stepped onto the porch and backed down the steps, holding the railing. She spun around and walked briskly toward her car.
“What brought you out here?” Roger called after her.
“I didn’t know who bought this house. I wanted to welcome the new family to the neighborhood.” She aimed her key fob at the car and the locks chirped. She struggled to stay composed as a familiar fear crawled up her spine and stiffened her back.
“Christina mentioned someone was using our barn for an underage party last night,” Linda said.
Anticipation made Christina’s skin tingle. A few feet from her car, she stopped and turned around. “I’m not sure of the exact location,” she backtracked, suddenly feeling like she had betrayed Naomi. The idea that Naomi was drugged on the property of the same man who had attacked Christina swelled like a tsunami in her brain, ready to sweep her under. The coincidence was too great.
“Why would you think that?” Roger asked, a hint of accusation in his tone.
“I may be mistaken.” Christina hated the indecisiveness in her tone. Leave. Just leave.
“Let’s be sure now. Let’s take a look. If there was a party, they probably left behind garbage. Beer cans, stuff like that, right?” Roger stepped off the porch and approached her. “Since you took the time to stop, it’d be a shame if we didn’t investigate. Or maybe we should call your brother, the deputy.” Roger had a way of speaking that was overtly condescending.
“I really should go. I’m running late.” Christina’s stomach sloshed with dread. She was back in college, trying to escape Roger’s grabby hands.
“No, no. I insist. I don’t want anyone using my property for parties.” He shook his head as if it were truly a great hardship. “Can you imagine the liability if someone got hurt on my property? Or after they left because they had been drinking? I don’t know if the bank has cashed the check on the first premium on my homeowner’s insurance.” Roger held out his hand, encouraging Christina to walk in front of him. The only reason Christina moved was because she didn’t want him to touch her.
Not again.
Christina glanced over her shoulder at Linda, willing her to walk with them. The last thing she wanted to do was go to the back of the property into a darkened barn with a man who had forced himself on her when she was in college and then accused her of not knowing what she really wanted.
Never mind that he had a son and a wife at home. Then
. And now. Strange that Christina had never met Linda face-to-face until now. Roger probably had preferred it that way. Easier to lure unsuspecting women.
Nausea roiled in her stomach.
Once they were halfway across the yard and it was clear that Linda wasn’t going to follow them, Christina stopped, never turning her back to Roger. She didn’t trust him.
She should never have trusted him.
And she was done being polite. Especially when it came to her safety.
She pointed her finger at him. “I can’t believe you have the nerve to show your face in Apple Creek.”
Roger pressed his hand to his chest in a “who-me?” gesture and his expression took on an offended air. “Nerve?” He leaned close and she did her best not to show her fear. “Your guilt has gotten the best of you. You wanted me, but then your conscience couldn’t deal with the fact I had a wife and child.” His eyes twinkled with wicked delight. “I’m separated now.” He reached out to brush his fingers across her cheek and she backed away.
“Separated from Linda?”
“Yes. Does that make you feel better?”
“Why should it make me feel better? You attacked me.” Anger roared in her ears.
“You wanted it,” he bit out. “Don’t rewrite history.”
A steel rod of courage stiffened her back. “I was naive and didn’t report the incident. I’m no longer that same girl.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Roger spit out, his face suddenly flushed with rage.
“Someone barely escaped being assaulted on your property and I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Once a creep, always a creep.”
His cheeks puffed and his breath grew ragged. He jabbed his finger in her direction and she struggled not to cower. “You watch out, little lady, or I’ll press charges of slander.”
