Pawleys Island Paradise boxset, Books 1 - 3

by Laurie Larsen

  Tom and Marianne both nodded.

  “She did a good job of escaping and surviving, and she was found. She’s back in the arms of her family, and she feels safe and loved. That’s good. She may have nightmares or incidents of bad memories for a little while, but she’s a very well-adjusted little girl, and I don’t think she’ll walk around in constant terror of being snatched again.”

  Marianne smiled. “That’s wonderful.”

  “You two are good parents who have provided her with a loving home. That goes a long way toward fighting the fear resulting from an episode like this. Now, I would be remiss if I didn’t order a short-term course of counseling sessions. I’ll make them weekly, and the first three will be with Stella and me alone. In those future sessions, I’ll be educating Stella about strangers, processing any lingering anxiety and giving her tools to feel empowered to squash those anxieties. Then, I’ll plan a family session, with the four of us. After that, I’ll re-evaluate and see if any more are needed. Your insurance should have no problem approving them.”

  They wrapped up, said good-bye and walked out to the car. At the back car door, before helping Stella up into her seat, Marianne kneeled and gave her a great big hug, holding her tight. “I love you, baby girl.”

  “I love you too, Mommy.”

  “We’re so glad to have you back, safe and sound.”

  Stella nodded and climbed up into the car seat. “Can I go dig when I get home?”

  ‘No,’ was the first thing that popped into Marianne’s mind, but instead she said, “Why don’t we both dig together? We’ll get our shorts and sunscreen on and go dig.”

  “Okay!”

  * * *

  Tom drove his wife and daughter home. Stella chattering in the backseat gave the illusion that all was well. He truly hoped her cheerful banter was a positive sign that the therapist’s prognosis was accurate — that his dear Stella had escaped her trauma unscathed.

  He glanced over at his wife. Her head rested on the seatback, her eyes closed. She let out a deep breath. He reached over and patted her hand. She jolted alert, then calmed as they met eyes.

  “I think she’ll be okay,” he said softly.

  Marianne darted a look into the backseat. “I hope so. But can you imagine if she isn’t? Are we prepared to deal with whatever might come next if she isn’t okay?”

  He shrugged. “If we aren’t now, we will be. What choice do we have?”

  Marianne nodded. “She’s our baby, and we’ll do whatever is necessary to get her past this.”

  “But let’s also be open to the possibility that she’s just going to bounce back and everything will be back to normal.”

  “That would be such a miracle,” Marianne murmured, then closed her eyes again, her lips moving quietly. Tom knew she was saying a silent prayer of thanksgiving. He let similar thoughts of gratitude pass through his mind.

  Tom pulled into the sand parking lot in front of the Seaside Inn and they all piled out of the car. A big old pickup truck sat nearby, sturdy and work-worn. Jeremy’s truck. A nauseous churn attacked Tom’s stomach. He hadn’t known his brother-in-law for long. He’d dated and married Marianne while Jeremy was away in prison. Last summer, he’d been released. He was a nice enough guy — very hard-working, remorseful over his mistakes of the past. Not looking for handouts, just wanted a fair shake to make his own way in the world.

  Unfortunately, he seemed to attract trouble like a magnet attracts nails. Maybe all ex-cons experienced the same phenomenon — he hadn’t honestly been around that many to know. But when Jeremy started dating Emma, layers of the onion started peeling away. Emma was the daughter of Gary Slotky, a man who had been laid off a decade ago, back when Jeremy was running Harrison and Son. Jeremy with his brand new Business degree, wanted to transform his dad’s handyman business into something bigger and more profitable. Unfortunately, he was in over his head and resorted to making bad business decisions. When he ran the business into bankruptcy, he resorted to illegal measures to borrow money. He dug his hole deeper and never got out. Customers were cheated out of homes. Employees were laid off. Lives changed drastically as a result of Jeremy’s activities.

  Emma’s father had held a grudge, had let his whole life fall apart because of his lay off — became an unemployed alcoholic, unwilling to get back on the ball and work again. For a decade, the name Jeremy Harrison was legendary in the Slotky family. The evil one, their scapegoat responsible for all the bad things in their lives. When fate put Jeremy and Emma together, Mr. Slotky couldn’t deal with it. He schemed, keeping secrets from his wife and daughter, and started sabotaging Jeremy. Making him suffer, as Jeremy had made Gary suffer.

  Sabotage of Jeremy’s furniture inventory came first. Then arson of some of his wooden pieces being stored at the Inn. Finally, befriending Stella behind their backs and abducting her. It was over now. The man was arrested and taken to jail. And Stella was going to be fine. He had to believe that.

  But the fact remained that, unintentional though it was, Jeremy stood at the root of all the danger and damage. God help him, if Stella had been injured or killed or traumatized, Tom would never be able to forgive Jeremy. Never.

  But the question remained, could Tom forgive Jeremy now?

  They walked in through the front door of the Inn. Leslie was standing behind the guest desk, studying the computer screen. Marianne went and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Stella reached her arms up and Leslie lifted her, settling her into a comfortable hold.

  “So how was your day today, precious one?”

  Stella held out her fingers, nails up. “Look! I got blue!”

  “Just like the sky.”

  “And the ocean.”

  “You got it, sweetie.” Leslie looked over the little girl’s head at Marianne. “And how was the appointment?”

  Marianne looked at Stella. “I don’t know, what’d you think, Stella? How was the appointment with Stephanie?”

  “It was fine. She was nice.” Stella squirmed and Leslie let her down. “I’m going to go put on my beach clothes. You’ll come out with me, Mommy?”

  “I sure will. Come on back out here when you’re done.”

  Stella scampered off back to the family suite. Marianne continued to Leslie, “The therapist said that Stella has suffered very little, if any, long-lasting damage or effects from the incident.”

  “Praise the Lord,” Leslie exclaimed.

  Tom stepped over to them. “Looks like we dodged a bullet on this one.”

  Leslie reached for his hands and squeezed them. “I’m so happy for you all.”

  Jeremy stepped into the great room from the sun porch. “Good news?” His face was hopeful. Marianne walked closer to him and put her hand behind his neck. “We think so. The therapist thinks she’s going to be fine.”

  Jeremy pumped the sky with his fists and let out a celebration whoop. “Praise God.”

  “Yep,” said Marianne and pulled him into a hug. Tom turned away.

  Stella ran into the room wearing her shorts, flip flops and tee shirt. It was early March, and weather was unstable. Some days this time of year required long sleeves or jackets, and other days, the sun shone and bare arms and legs were fine.

  And obviously his mind diversion tactics were working, if he was thinking about weather, as opposed to detesting his brother-in-law.

  Stella noticed the hug going on in the great room and of course wanted a piece of it. She held her arms up, hopped up and down. Jeremy swept her up and landed her on his shoulders. Of course she laughed like it was the most fun she’d had in her life.

  Marianne said, “Stella and I are going out to the beach to dig. Can you entertain her for a second while I go change my clothes?”

  “Of course,” said Jeremy.

  After Marianne left, and Leslie answered the phone, it was the three of them. Jeremy bobbed at the knees, giving Stella a bumpy ride that caused a great deal of laughter. Jeremy looked over at him. “Great news from the therapist, huh?�
�

  “Yep. She’ll have a series of counseling appointments, but after the first one, things are looking good.”

  “Super. You and Marianne are fantastic parents. Stella knows she’s loved.”

  Tom bit his bottom lip to refrain from saying something off the cuff he’d regret later. “She does, you’re right. But she also feels safe here in her home, and that turned out to be untrue, didn’t it?”

  Marianne returned while Jeremy went motionless and blinked at him. “You ready to go, sweetpea?” Marianne asked. Jeremy returned Stella to the floor and Stella yelled in her excitement, “Uncle Jeremy! Will you come out to the beach with me and Mommy? We’re going to dig and build a sandcastle.”

  Jeremy turned toward her. “I’d love to, sweetheart. But you and Mommy go on out. I’ll meet you out there after I talk to your daddy about something.”

  After they left, Jeremy walked over to Tom. “You okay, Tom?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think you’re probably a little worked up about everything that’s been going on around here. Am I right?”

  Tom rolled his eyes. “Again. What do you think?”

  Jeremy looked to the floor, considering. “I think you’re thinking that the fire wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me. And of course, you’re right. Slotky was going after me, pure and simple. I just didn’t know who was behind it, or I would’ve stopped him.”

  “You put my family in danger. The entire place could’ve gone up in flames.”

  “You’re right about that. But the minute they put the fire out, I moved all remaining stock out of here. The last thing I wanted to do was put you or anyone else at the Inn in danger.”

  A streak of light shot through Tom’s head and he stepped closer to Jeremy, just inches away from his face now, leaning in. “But you did put someone at the Inn in danger, didn’t you?”

  Jeremy’s mouth dropped, his eyes went wide. “Stella?”

  “That’s right. That old man befriended her, Jeremy. Talked with her, played with her, gave her a gift. She believed in him. What the hell? What was my innocent five-year-old supposed to think when a man her grandpa’s age is showering attention on her? Is she supposed to be suspicious and think he’s going to harm her?”

  “No, no, of course not.”

  “But you exposed her to this maniac. You. So it was you who put her in danger.”

  Jeremy looked down at his shoes. His torment flickered across his face. He cleared his throat and his face flushed. “I, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Obviously. You have to know that, Tom. I’d never want any harm to come to Stella. I’d protect her with my life.”

  “Well, despite the bad forces that you exposed her to, it appears she’s going to make a full recovery. But you’ll forgive me if I don’t welcome you back into her life, and our Inn with open arms.” He stepped back a few paces. “I have to protect what’s mine.”

  Jeremy stared at him for a long moment. Then he ran his hands through his hair, his hands appearing to operate with a mind of their own. He dropped them to his side and nodded. “Are you saying … I’m not welcome here, Tom?”

  “If you were in my shoes, what would you do?”

  Jeremy let out a big breath, gave him one last gaze, and walked out the door.

  Chapter Five

  The next few days epitomized the joy and beauty of life on the beach. One day blended seamlessly into the next, filled with unfettered moments of happiness and relief with Stella. She could get used to this, Marianne decided. Her dad and Leslie were still coming over and taking over the tasks she’d normally be responsible for, leaving her all kinds of free time with her daughter. Uninterrupted time to observe Stella and make her own determination of her mental state. She searched for signs that Stella was in distress. Any indication that she was suffering emotionally from her terrifying ordeal.

  She wasn’t a psychologist or a therapist, but Marianne wasn’t seeing a thing. No nightmares marred the peaceful darkness of Stella’s bedroom. No uncomfortable questions for she and Tom to address. No hesitation when she left her parents’ side. No tears that popped up inexplicably. No, she showed every indication of being the same well-adjusted five-year-old that she was before the abduction.

  But that couldn’t possibly be true. Could it?

  Could their family have dodged a bullet like this? Did Stella have no remnant aftereffects from being kidnapped, using her wits to escape a madman, only to find herself alone in the woods to fend for herself?

  Or, if she were a better mother, would she recognize hidden signs that her daughter needed help? Signs that if missed now, would only grow more disastrous later when they emerged.

  Marianne sighed and vowed to quit making herself crazy. God, help me deal with this. Help me accept that my Stella may be fine. Help me accept that she may not. But let me enjoy each precious moment, as it comes.

  She looked up as a shadow passed over her. Leslie stood beside her, blocking the sun from her eyes. She put her hand on the top of her floppy beach hat and smiled up at her. “Hi. Let me pull a chair up for you.”

  “No, you relax. I got it.” Leslie looked around, found a wooden beach chair a short distance away and dragged it over. Marianne admired the older woman’s grace as she reclined. The woman reeked of class. Petite, fit, blonde and possessing a classic beauty, she’d always reminded Marianne of a young Doris Day, except she was quintessentially modern.

  Leslie was the total opposite of Marianne.

  Tall, buxom, still carrying at least ten pounds of “baby weight,” despite the fact that her baby had been around for half a decade. Hair that defied a color description, other than just “brown.” Not chestnut or russet or caramel. And graceful was the last word people would think to describe her. In fact, she’d had more than her share of clumsy moments.

  “How’s she doing?” Leslie asked, looking over at Stella who was, of course, digging in the sand. A bunch of it covered her elbows and knees, and enough of it coated her hands that if she chose that moment to rub her eyes, disaster would strike.

  “Unbelievably good.”

  “Great.” Leslie smiled. Marianne paused a second, wondering if she should voice her doom and gloom, then changed her mind, looked away.

  “What?” Leslie asked, always alert.

  Marianne shrugged. “I just hope I’m not missing anything I shouldn’t be.”

  Leslie watched Stella busily fill a plastic bucket, then rise and walk to the water’s edge. “It’s normal to want to help our children through their hard times. Nothing’s going to happen on a schedule. She may or may not have aftereffects. And they may not come right away. The important thing is, you’re doing all the right things. You’ve taken her to a therapist. You have more sessions coming up. She’s a professional and will know what questions to ask. You’re spending time with Stella, and she knows how much you love her.” Leslie patted her on the shoulder. “Try not to worry.”

  Marianne sighed. “I’m just so afraid that this will be the event that turns out to be the start of all the troubles in her life. In our lives.”

  Leslie nodded. “You can’t live in fear that bad things will happen to you. You need to live your life and be thankful for the good, and pray for help with the bad. Prayer helps, you know.”

  Marianne nodded. “Yeah,” she started, and then looked up. Stella stood ankle-high in the water with her bucket, filling it with tidewater. As Marianne watched, a wave knocked her off-balance. Stella stumbled a step or two, then fell in the water. Marianne gasped and stood, ran across the sand. A couple with gray hair, walking barefoot, approached Stella and held out a hand to steady her. Marianne yelled, “Stella! I’m here, baby.”

  The older couple looked up, alarmed, looked back at her little girl who was struggling to get to her feet. Marianne raced past them, scrambled into the water, reached down and lifted her up, splashes of salt water going everywhere and landing on the couple. “I’ve got her. I’m here. Don�
��t touch her, please.”

  Marianne barely recognized her own frantic voice, and her heart raced. She regretted the expressions she’d put on their faces, and sincerely hoped they weren’t guests of the Seaside Inn; she didn’t believe they were. Maybe they were staying at a neighboring Inn, or one of the rental houses down the beach. They probably thought she was crazy, and her reaction completely unwarranted.

  But they had no idea. They couldn’t know what they’d been through.

  “Mommy,” Stella whimpered.

  “You’re okay, baby. Mommy’s here.” She squeezed Stella tight, holding the girl’s head against her shoulder.

  “Mom! Let me go.” Stella wrenched herself from her grasp and Marianne lowered her carefully to the sand. Stella shot her a look, a mix between confused and irritated, picked up her bucket and trekked back to her castle.

  Her arms were shaking and her head pulsed. A soft hand on her shoulder, a soft voice in her ear. It was Leslie. “You okay, sweetie?”

  Marianne drew a shaky breath. “That was probably over the top, and I’m afraid I was extremely rude to that poor couple who were just trying to help.”

  Leslie gave a sad little smile. She didn’t agree, but she didn’t disagree either. “Next time you go see that therapist, you might want to mention to her how you’re feeling.”

  It was such a gentle little nudge, Marianne couldn’t help laughing. “You think?”

  Leslie nodded, smiling. “Can’t hurt!”

  * * *

  The peaceful solitude of the darkened Inn helped her anxieties to fade, for the moment, anyway. Marianne and Tom sat in an abandoned corner of the dining room, enjoying glasses of Pinot Grigio. Marianne lifted her legs and rested her stockinged feet in his lap. He gave her an exaggerated eyeroll, then used one hand to massage them.

  “Ahhhh,” she moaned. “One of the perks of being married to you.”

  He snorted. “Is that one towards the top or bottom of the list?”

  She smiled, eyes closed. “Right in the middle.”

  After a few moments of blissful quiet, she told him about her episode with Stella and the older couple in the water.