by S W Vaughn
We stop in front of the door to the room, and I take a minute to compose myself. There are so many butterflies in my stomach that I’m sure they’ll start flying from my ears. This moment is bigger than I expected — she may not know it, but my daughter is about to meet someone who’s part of her, forever. It’s daunting.
When I don’t go in right away, Alyssa looks up at me. “Should we ring the doorbell, Mommy?”
Her innocent question relaxes me, and I laugh and reach for the handle. “They don’t have doorbells here, munchkin,” I say. “We can just go in.”
“Oh, okay. I like doorbells, though.”
“Me too,” I say with a smile.
I take a breath and push the door open. And my first thought is that something’s gone wrong, because the bed and the chair beside it are empty, and the wheelchair is nowhere in evidence. No wheelchair … and no Brad.
Then I hear a muted flush from behind the closed bathroom door, and my heart starts to beat again.
“Come on, sweetheart. My friend will be here in a minute,” I say as I lead my daughter into the room. “We’ll just sit down and wait.”
Alyssa looks around at everything with thoughtful consideration as we approach the chair next to the bed. I sit down and lift her onto my lap, and she says, “Mommy, is your friend a magician?”
I look at her. “Why would you think that?”
“Because magicians pop out from nowhere,” she says. “Like this.” She covers her face with her small hands, and then throws both arms out. “Ta-dah!”
I hug her and laugh. “I guess you know a lot about magicians,” I say. “But no, my friend isn’t one of them. He’s just in the bathroom, see?” I point to the closed door across the room.”
She follows my gesture and nods. “Okay. But it would be cool if he was a magician.”
In a way, Brad is a magician, and he’s pulled off the greatest trick of all: coming back from the dead. But I’m not sure that’s an appropriate conversation to have with my four-year-old daughter.
The handle on the bathroom door clicks down, and I hold my breath as the door swings open. It seems to move by itself. Then I realize that there must be one of those handicapped buttons to open the door, because Brad is standing there behind an aluminum-frame walker, smiling out at me.
“I thought I heard voices,” he says as he walks slowly into the room, pushing the walker before him. “I wasn’t sure if I had visitors, or I was going crazy.”
Alyssa giggles. “Your friend is funny, Mommy,” she whispers. “I like him.”
My heart soars. She likes him. It’s a definite step in the right direction.
“Let’s go say hello,” I tell her quietly, and she nods and slides to the floor.
Alyssa is fast, and she reaches Brad almost before I’m fully standing. He stops and stares down at her over the walker, smiling hesitantly.
“Hello,” she says, her face turned up in solemn greeting as she lifts a tiny hand toward him. “My name is Alyssa Dawn Bauman.”
Brad’s features work briefly, and he takes her hand with infinite gentleness. “Hi, Alyssa. I’m Brad,” he says with a catch in his voice. “I’m very happy to meet you.”
She beams at him. “Hi, Brad. There’s a boy in my class named Brad too, only Mrs. Jocasta calls him Brad-ley because he always throws the blocks. But I never throw blocks. I think it’s mean.”
“I think you’re right,” Brad says hoarsely as he grips the walker again. His hands are shaking, and his eyes are wide and startled. “It is mean to throw blocks. You’re a very smart girl, Alyssa.”
“Thank you,” she says. “I like being smart.”
I can tell that Brad is nearly overcome with emotion. If he doesn’t sit down soon, he might collapse. I close the distance to my daughter and reach down to rub her back. “Hey, munchkin, can you go sit in that chair for a minute?” I say. “If it’s okay with Brad, maybe you can turn the television on and see if there’s anything interesting.”
“She can sit on the bed.” Brad flashes a wan smile and nods toward it. “The remote is right there by the pillow. And … I think I’m going to need the chair.”
“Okay. Thanks, Brad!” Alyssa calls as she runs off and scrambles up the side of the bed. Soon she’s working the remote like a pro.
“Celine. Oh, God …”
Brad whispers the words, and I turn just as he shoves the walker aside and throws his arms around me. His embrace is firm and trembling. “She’s so tiny,” he rasps, his breath feathering my ear. “Tiny, and perfect.”
I hug him back, until he finally stops shaking, and then smile at him. “Do you want me to grab the walker for you?”
“No.” He turns his head away and wipes a few stray tears. “Maybe you could help me over there, though? My legs don’t seem interested in cooperating.”
“Of course I will.”
I keep an arm around his waist, and he leans on my shoulders as we move toward the chair. When we reach it, he grabs one of the arms and lowers himself in with a long breath. “Phew. Made it,” he says. “Thank you.”
From his tone, I know he’s thanking me for more than helping him walk. I glance at Alyssa and smile. “You’re welcome.”
This visit won’t be so bad, after all.
Chapter 25
Jill comes over that night. She looks much better than she sounded yesterday, like she’s completely gotten over the cold, and she’s happy about her date with Hunter.
What she’s not so thrilled about is to hear that I’ve brought Alyssa to meet Brad.
After I tuck my daughter into bed at eight, since she has school tomorrow, Jill hangs around to talk. She’s sitting at the island counter in the kitchen while I make coffee — we’ve decided to skip the wine because we both have an early day tomorrow. “I’m not sure you should have told him, Celine,” she says, toying with her phone on the counter. “Did you forget what a jerk he was before?”
I shake my head as I get two mugs out of the cupboard and set them by the coffee machine while it burbles away. “No, I didn’t forget,” I say, heading to the fridge for the creamer. “Like I said, though, we were both young. I just … if there’s a chance that Alyssa can have her father in her life, I want to take it.”
Jill rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “You still love him, don’t you?”
“Maybe.” I don’t look at her when I say it.
I fix the coffees, sit at the counter across from her and place a mug on her side. “I didn’t get to tell you, the police arrested someone today for Teryn’s murder.”
“Holy shit, they did?” Jill says. “Tell me it was Hannah.”
“No, it was another nurse at the hospital. Kate Engle,” I say. “At least, that’s their official stance. But not everyone believes it.”
She frowns. “What do you mean?”
“Detective Chambers, the guy who’s been working this case, thinks it’s too convenient.” A cloud passes over me as I remember the conversation we had, how he’d been genuinely sorry that he couldn’t do anything about it, even though he knew it was all wrong. “They found the same poison in this other nurse’s locker that had been used to kill Teryn, but it was five days after her murder. I mean, if you were going to kill someone, would you keep the evidence that you’d done it hanging around in your locker?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about what I’d do if I killed someone before,” Jill says with a laugh. But her smile fades, and she says, “So whoever’s doing this is still out there?”
“They have to be,” I say. “I have no idea who Kate Engle is, but she isn’t the one who’s been texting me.”
“Oh my God, you’re right. Did you tell the police that?”
I stare at my coffee. “Unfortunately, the detective made it clear that the case is very closed. They wouldn’t do anything about it, even if I did tell them,” I say.
“It’s Hannah, then,” Jill says. “It has to be her.”
“Actually, I don’t think it is.
” I tell her about the party last night, about meeting the daughter who hates her and how upset she was about everything. “She’s really been through a lot. She explained why things seemed the way they did with her, and it made sense. So I guess there is someone else.”
Jill takes a deep breath. “Do you and Alyssa want to stay with me for a while?” she says. “You know … just so there’s someone else around, and you’re not anywhere obvious. I wouldn’t mind. I have plenty of room.”
I smile at her. “You’re so sweet. But don’t worry, we’ll be okay,” I say. “Besides, what if you want to have Hunter over? We’d be in the way.”
She blushes faintly. “I haven’t decided about that yet. But … are you sure? I really wouldn’t mind.”
“I’m sure.”
We finish our coffee and talk for a while, and then Jill stands and stretches, yawning. “Guess it’s time to turn in,” she says. “I have to be at the office at seven tomorrow, because Danny forgot to tell me about yet another filing deadline.”
I groan in sympathy. Dan does seem like a nice guy, but he’s definitely got a few stereotypical blond traits — like being kind of dumb sometimes. At least he seems to make Missy happy for some reason.
“Just a second. I’ll walk you out,” I say as I grab the coffee mugs and put them in the sink. “I think I could use a little air.”
We head out through the kitchen door to the garage, and I hit the opener to raise the garage entrance. Jill’s red Fiat is parked out in the driveway. We walk past my car, and once I step outside the garage, I take a deep breath of cool night air and let it clear my head. There are so many things running through it that I can barely think straight.
“Celine,” Jill hisses suddenly, grabbing my arm as she stares down the driveway. “You see that?”
I follow her gaze to a dark blue sedan parked at the curb across the street, in front of the vacant lot that’s been for sale by a rival real estate company for over a year. “It’s a car,” I say slowly. “Unless I’m missing something?”
“Someone is sitting in the driver’s seat,” Jill says. “Don’t you think that’s a little suspicious? Whoever it is, they’re hanging out in front of a vacant lot across from your house. And you just told me the police aren’t looking into the person who’s been threatening you anymore.”
My gut clenches. “Okay, maybe it is suspicious,” I murmur, warily eyeing the sedan and its shadow of a person at the wheel. “I’ll just go back inside —”
The hand on my arm squeezes. “You have to call 911!”
I almost do it, but then I realize I’d sound like a crazy person. Hello, operator, I’d like to report a person sitting in a car. They don’t send police out for that. “I can’t,” I tell Jill as I take my phone from my pocket. “But I can call Ollie.”
Her brow furrows. “Ollie?”
“Detective Chambers,” I explain, pulling up his number. I tap to dial and hold the phone to my ear.
When the first ring sounds, there’s a flash of light inside the dark sedan.
“Oh my God, I don’t believe it,” I murmur, an absent smile tugging at my lips. I watch as the shadowy figure in the car extends an arm toward the light, picks up a cell phone and taps it before lifting it to his head.
“Looks like I’m busted.” Ollie’s voice fills my ear, deep with wry amusement. “Okay, I’m coming out. Don’t shoot.”
I laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m unarmed.”
“What’s going on?” Jill says.
“Just look.” I hang up the phone and point across the street, where the sedan’s door is opening. A figure emerges, steps onto the curb and turns around, raising his hands over his head. There’s a phone in one of them, and a big sheepish grin on his face.
He puts his arms down and jogs across the street, and I turn to my astonished friend. “This is Detective Oliver Chambers,” I tell her. “Ollie. I think he’s trying to protect me or something.”
“Well, you’re not wrong about that.” Ollie is walking up the driveway, shoving his phone in a pocket. “Sorry if I scared you,” he says. “I thought about telling you I’d planned to stake out your place, but then I figured it would be weird.”
“Yes. It is kind of weird,” I say, matching his grin. “Ollie, this is my best friend, Jill Mazer.”
“Hello, Jill.” He holds a hand out, and she takes it with an open-mouthed stare. “Is this your car?”
“Um, yes,” she stammers. “Hello.”
“Good. I guess I won’t have to run your plates, after all,” he says with a teasing smile, and then releases her hand to take mine. “Ms. Bauman. It’s good to see you again.”
“Celine, remember?” I have to restrain a sudden urge to hug him. I’m absurdly touched that he’s here on his own time, trying to watch out for me. “Even though you’re stalking me, it’s good to see you, too.”
He laughs and rubs the back of his neck. “Well, if you don’t mind, I might hang around and stalk you a little more,” he says. “I’m still not convinced that you’re safe.”
“I won’t say no. That is, if it’s not putting you out,” I say. “You don’t have to do this for me, you know.”
The slanted smile he gives me sends my heart into overdrive. “I want to.”
“Okay, then.” My mouth has gone a little dry. “Thank you, Ollie.”
He grins again, sketches a little salute, and then jogs back to his car.
“Holy shit, he’s hot,” Jill says once the sedan door is shut with Ollie inside. “Like, really hot.”
I nod absently. “Is he? I hadn’t noticed.”
I’m lying, to myself as much as Jill. I definitely noticed the way his t-shirt clings to his muscles, the strong lines of his face, those deep blue, penetrating eyes that look a whole lot sexier when they’re not interrogating me with silent questions. And his ass in those jeans. Damn, I might need to go fan myself for a while.
If I wasn’t in love with Brad, I could easily see myself falling for Detective Oliver Chambers.
Chapter 26
I’m at the office, and both Maxine and Sabrina are treating me with a kind of skittish awe. Lucas missed my little display of dominance on Friday and probably has no idea what’s going on, but he seems to be amused at the way they’re so jumpy around me.
The police have returned my computer, totally scrubbed, and I’m spending the morning re-installing programs and restoring my files from the backup cloud server. The first showing for my new luxury listing is scheduled for noon, and Hannah’s going with me to get a little experience. She’s decided not to give up on real estate the way she’s given up on everything else she’s tried.
I think it’s a strange career choice for someone who’s independently wealthy, but if she really likes it, I guess it won’t hurt.
At around 9:30, my replacement cell phone rings, and Hannah’s number shows on the screen. At least this time I’m not worried about answering it. I pick up and say, “Hey, did you change your mind about today already?”
Hannah laughs. “Nope. I’m not flaking out this time,” she says. “But I wanted to tell you something exciting, at least for me. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind what?”
“Er. That I’m telling you about it,” she says. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”
I smile. “It’s okay, I get it now. You can just tell me stuff.”
“Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “You’ll never guess where I am right now. At the elementary school,” she says without waiting for me to guess. “Izzy’s class is having a Parent Day, and she asked me to come instead of Julie.”
“Oh, Hannah. That’s wonderful!” I say, my eyes misting over a little for her. “Listen, you don’t have to come to the showing today. If your daughter wants you there, you should stay with her.”
“Well, the Parent Day thing isn’t supposed to take long,” she says. “I can just meet you at the house, if that’s okay? I have the address.”
“Sure, that’s fine.
I’ll see you then,” I tell her. “And really, don’t worry if you can’t make it. Izzy is way more important.”
“I agree. Thank you, Celine.”
I smile as I hang up, glad that something’s going right for Hannah. I do hope she’s able to mend her relationship with her daughter, after all her family has been through. That poor little girl will never know her grandparents, and Hannah won’t have any parental advice to help her through tough times. Not that all advice parents offer to their grown children is good — if I’d followed my mother’s advice, I’d be stuck in some high-powered, high-pressure career with no time for my daughter.
Vaguely, I wonder who Izzy’s father is, but it doesn’t really matter. Hannah’s never mentioned him, which probably means he’s out of the picture.
Not a minute after I set my phone on the desk, it chimes with a text notification. A brief pulse of dread moves through me as I pick it up again to look, but the text is from Hannah. And there’s an attachment, a photo.
I tap the image to open it, and my phone’s screen goes black.
“What the…” I murmur, reaching for the power button. But just then it flashes back to life, and an image fills the screen. Alyssa and Izzy, standing in the hallway at the school beneath a bulletin board hung with kindergarten drawings. Their arms are slung around each other’s shoulders, and they’re both grinning like crazy.
Hannah’s message appears beneath the photo: Best friends. Aren’t they adorable? Thought you might like a copy of this.
I smile and trace a finger across my daughter’s smile, and then close the image. Later tonight, I’ll transfer it to my home computer where I’ve been saving all my pictures.
There’s still a few hours before the showing, so I get back to rebuilding my computer. I’ve just started downloading some of my files from the cloud to the hard drive when the extension light on my desk phone flashes, accompanied by a strident buzz. Oh, good. Courtney transferred a call to me from the front desk. Probably one she couldn’t be bothered to handle herself.
