Here to Stay

by Catherine Anderson

Zach lifted a hand in farewell. Once outside the arena, he opted to drive his Ford diesel truck. The engine, left to sit for days on end, sputtered and coughed before it started to rumble. The drive into town passed swiftly, Zach’s mind spinning faster than the truck tires. Was he nuts to be doing this? No. Sharyn Pajeck had taken countless beatings over the years and had always, without fail, protected her children. To Zach, that spoke volumes, creating an image in his mind of a devoted mother who would have made any sacrifice for her kids. Why would she suddenly decide to take a hike, leaving them behind? Zach couldn’t shake the gruesome suspicion that she hadn’t. He wanted to see that entertainment area. How he meant to get into the backyard, he didn’t know. Sneak, maybe? The residents of the home would think it a little strange if he knocked on the door and asked for a guided tour.

  Fourteen fifty-six Montrose Place was located in an older area of town. As Zach drove along the street, he noted that most of the large houses were still elegant and well maintained, but Mandy’s childhood home, a once impressive two-story with gable ends and dormer attic windows, had gone to seed, the exterior in need of paint, the yard weed infested and overgrown. Zach parked at the curb, his gaze drawn to a warped For Rent sign on the front grass, which was yellow and almost a foot tall. The house, once white with green trim, now looked almost gray, with chips and peels in the paint. Some of the shingles on the roof had curled at the edges.

  For several minutes, Zach sat in the truck, the chug of the diesel engine a drone in the background as he tried to envision Mandy skipping up the front walkway to the double front doors. Had a jack-o’-lantern ever sat on that porch? Had Christmas icicles ever been taped to the windows? He doubted it. Even now, all these years later, the house emanated a cold, formal aura.

  Zach cut the engine and swung out of the truck. The place looked uninhabited. Just in case the present occupants had given notice to the landlord but were still in residence, Zach made a beeline for the front door. The hard rap of his knuckles on the wood roused no one. He approached a dirty front window. Cupping his hands at the corners of his eyes, he held his breath so as not to fog the glass and peered into an empty living room. No furniture. Tobin Pajeck’s precious hardwood floors were scratched, worn, and littered with debris, the kind of stuff tenants didn’t bother to pick up when they moved out. No one was living here.

  Okay. Coast clear. If a snoopy neighbor asked Zach what he was up to, he’d just say he’d seen the For Rent sign and might be interested. Wading through the tangle of tall grass, he circled the house. The backyard was enclosed by a six-foot-tall cedar fence that had long since lost its moorings. When Zach opened the arched back gate, the adjacent posts wobbled. No matter. He was willing to bet Tobin Pajeck’s elaborate outdoor entertainment area had weathered the neglect far better.

  As Zach entered the enclosure, he heard Mandy’s voice playing like a recording inside his head. She hadn’t lied. It was at least twice the size of the backyard she had now, maybe even three times larger. Zach’s gaze shot to the left corner, where a large cement pad had been poured and then trimmed with a massive brick barbecue and perimeter benches. Damn. The center area was big enough to accommodate a ten-foot-long picnic table and still leave room for thirty people to line-dance.

  A chill prickled over Zach’s scalp as he walked closer. Was it only his imagination, or did the air feel colder? He’d never been a fanciful guy, and he didn’t believe in ghosts, but this place gave him the heebie-jeebies. The patio slab was extra thick, exceeding the usual four inches by two more. Zach was willing to bet the concrete had also been generously reinforced to prevent cracking. Tobin Pajeck had built this sucker to endure over time, not to mention that he’d sunk so much money into it that anyone who owned the house would be reluctant to get rid of it. Zach wondered if that had been Tobin’s intent. By the time the patio needed to be replaced, Tobin would be dead. A deceased individual couldn’t do time for murder unless he served the sentence in hell.

  Zach tested the concrete with a whack of his boot. You under there, Sharyn? He went still, listening, breathing slowly. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear anything, and he was even less sure what he’d do if he did. He didn’t believe the dead could communicate with the living—never had. But he had the creepy feeling that Mandy’s mother was close and wanted to be found. I’m losing it. This is nuts. But even as Zach told himself to leave it alone, he knew he wouldn’t. Tobin Pajeck had done plenty to damage Mandy and Luke emotionally, but the most serious injury to them had resulted from their mother’s defection. What if Sharyn hadn’t left them by choice? Tobin could have carefully lifted the sod and then replaced it over the grave so the police wouldn’t see freshly turned earth. What if Sharyn rested here in a shallow grave under this concrete? If Zach found her body, wouldn’t it go a long way toward healing both Mandy and Luke? At least then they’d know their mom hadn’t willingly abandoned them.

  Zach stood there for at least five minutes, absorbing the ambience of this place. It felt like a frigging cemetery to him, and he reached a hard decision: He was going to rent this house, and before the ink had dried on the contract, he’d be out here with a pick and jackhammer. If he found nothing, fine. He’d just cough up the bucks to have the entertainment area reconstructed. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford the expenditure.

  And if he found a body? Well, then, Sharyn Pajeck would be vindicated. Mandy and Luke would be set free. And Tobin Pajeck would rot in prison for the rest of his life.

  As he returned to his truck, Zach stopped at the For Rent sign and entered the contact number into his cell phone. He no sooner got into his vehicle than he called the landlord. The thought of leaving the house up for grabs until morning didn’t sit well with him. He wanted to secure the place tonight.

  An old guy with a gruff voice answered the phone. While talking with him, Zach learned that he’d had a minor stroke a few years ago, had moved to a high-end retirement community with assisted-living services, and hadn’t been able to sell the house because the market had gone sour. He’d been renting the place out ever since.

  Two hours later, Zach had leased the house, paying a large damage deposit as well as the first and last months’ rent. He’d hated to sign on for an entire six months, but the old fart who owned the place had been adamant. Apparently prior tenants had been inconstant, and the landlord wanted a guarantee that he’d have a monthly stipend rolling in for at least half a year. No big. Zach would never miss the thousand he’d have to cough up each month. In fact, for that area, the rent was actually far less than he expected.

  As Zach drove back to his ranch, he mentally circled the situation. Should he inform Mandy of his suspicions? Granted, learning that her mother might have been murdered wouldn’t be one of her happier moments. But what if his hunch was correct? She’d gone all these years with a broken heart, and she had confessed to Zach that her mom’s betrayal had left her unwilling to trust anyone but herself ever again. Learning that her mother hadn’t abandoned her might help her put the past to rest.

  On the other hand, what if Zach was wrong and put Mandy through that kind of trauma for nothing? Wouldn’t it be better to follow through on his suspicion without her knowledge? If he found only dirt under that slab, he could just rebuild, and Mandy would never be the wiser.

  Zach tried to imagine how he would want it to play out, and he decided he’d want to be in on it from the start. Mandy had been so young when her mother vanished that she probably hadn’t been able to conceive of her father doing something so horrible. Zach wasn’t young, and he wasn’t innocent. He believed Pajeck had offed his wife.

  Zach spotted a wide spot off the shoulder of the two-lane road and whipped the truck into a fast U-turn. Mandy might think he’d lost his frigging mind if he showed up on her doorstep at this hour, babbling about murder and treachery, but this wasn’t something he could keep from her.

  It was half past eight when Zach parked the diesel truck in Mandy’s driveway. He strode up the steps and rapped hi
s knuckles on the door before he could change his mind. Inside he heard the soft pad of bare feet on carpet. The porch light flared to life. Then came the rattle and click of the doorknob being turned. A chain guard snapped taut as the portal opened a scant six inches. Mandy’s delicate countenance appeared behind the breach.

  “Zach?” Surprise flitted across her face. Then her soft mouth curved in a pleased smile as she fumbled to disengage the chain. “I didn’t expect you. I’m in my PJ’s.”

  “Sorry. I should have called. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

  The door swung open, and Mandy stepped back to let him in. The living room was dark, the only light coming from the television, which washed the walls and furniture with flashes of muted color. Mandy wore a Mickey Mouse nightshirt over a pair of black sweatpants. Her hair was clipped at the top of her head, clumps of reddish brown poking up every which way. She looked adorable.

  Luke sat at the far end of the sofa. He drew off his headphones and grinned. “Hey. That you, Zach?”

  “It’s me,” Zach replied.

  “Did you bring Rosebud?”

  “No. Sorry, buddy.” Luke’s crestfallen expression prompted Zach to add, “I’ll bring her by tomorrow. Okay? Maybe we can take another walk to the park.”

  “Right on! Maybe Mandy can come. We can go Dutch for a Coney Island experience.” Luke sat forward on the cushion. “Guess what!”

  Zach tried to smile, but his lips felt like rotten rubber bands that might snap in two if he stretched them. “What?”

  “I went to see your blind friend, Carly Coulter, today. She can see right now, but even so, she knows what it’s like to be blind, and she’s totally awesome!”

  Zach listened with genuine interest as Luke talked about all he’d learned during the first session. “Hey, man, that’s great. When will you see her again?”

  “Next week. She hardly charges anything, so we can afford it. I’m really excited.”

  Zach touched his palm to the small of Mandy’s back. “Can I talk to you for a few minutes?” he asked. “Privately?”

  She glanced at Luke. “Sure. Headphones back on, brother dear, and no fair turning the volume way down so you can eavesdrop.”

  Luke grinned, shoved the headphones on, and fiddled with the volume control. The muted blast of rap was audible. “That loud enough for you?”

  Zach guided Mandy to the kitchen with every intention of telling her of his suspicions about her father. But when they were settled across from each other at the table and he looked into her eyes, the words jammed in his throat. She had already endured so much. How could he bring himself to layer on even more pain?

  “Is something wrong?” she asked. “Is Rosebud okay?”

  Reaching a quick decision, Zach replied, “She’s great, and it just happens that she and Luke are what I want to talk to you about. Rosebud looked so sad when Luke left last night, and I thought for a minute I’d have to pry him away from her with a crowbar. They’ve really formed a strong bond.”

  Mandy glowed with happiness. “Isn’t it awesome? Luke talks about her constantly. It isn’t only that he’s fallen crazy in love with her, but he’s starting to believe in the life she’ll be able to help him have. He’s getting excited about going to college, but even more important, he’s looking forward to going out into the world and enjoying all the things he’s never experienced.”

  That had been Zach’s dream all along—what had driven him to embark on this journey—and now it was happening.

  “I’m so thankful, Zach. I’ll never be able to express it with words.”

  Zach waved a hand. “Hey, I’m a horse trainer. Working with Rosebud hasn’t been a huge leap for me.”

  “Let me get my shoes on,” she said, her voice laced with excitement. “I want to show you something.”

  Zach trailed her with his gaze as she rushed to her bedroom. She reappeared a second later with tennis shoes, bouncing on one foot and then the other to slip them on.

  When he realized she meant to go outside with the laces dangling, he turned sideways on the chair and patted his knee. “No way. You’ll trip and break your neck.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she protested, but as she spoke, she plopped a foot on his knee.

  After tying her shoes, Zach followed her out into the backyard. The glow of the porch light barely reached the far left corner, but Zach had excellent night vision and saw that she’d driven some stakes into the ground and strung red tape to outline the shape of the shed she hoped to build.

  “Will that be big enough?” she asked.

  Zach nodded in approval. “Plenty big enough.” Sensing her excitement, Zach turned to reassess the yard. He’d been unenthusiastic the last time she’d shown it to him, but Luke’s determination to change had eliminated most of his concerns. The kid clearly loved Rosebud and would provide her with a good home. “She’s going to love it out here, Mandy. Just look at all the space she’ll have to run and play. That’s vital for a mini that is indoors so much of the time.” Toeing a clump of grass, Zach angled a querying glance at her. “You do realize that Rosebud will take dumps on the lawn.”

  Mandy laughed. “I did some surfing on the Net and found a poop scooper I’ll order. It’ll make cleanup a snap, and I honestly don’t give a hang about the grass.”

  “What about your flower beds?”

  She shrugged. “I’ll have the front yard for gardening. This area is for Rosebud.”

  Zach moved toward her. At first, she smiled up at him, and then, as if she sensed what he meant to do, a look of uncertainty settled over her beautiful face. Zach cupped her chin in his hand. “Don’t be nervous,” he whispered, his voice gone husky with desire that surged through him, making his blood feel thick and molten. “I’ll never harm a hair on your head. You’ve got my word on it.”

  Moving slowly, Zach settled his mouth over hers. When she failed to part her lips, he gently encouraged them open with the press of his fingertips and thumb on her cheeks. The instant he gained access and tasted the sweet recesses of her mouth, his desire for her became more intense—a yearning so powerful that his body tightened and his pulse started to slam in his temples. He couldn’t hear, could barely think. Sweet, so sweet. She melted against him like a pat of butter on a hot biscuit. Opened for him. Moaned into his mouth.

  Need and longing obliterated Zach’s common sense. He forgot where they were, slipped his hands under her nightshirt, and moved his palms up to cup her bare breasts. She jerked when he grazed one turgid nipple with his thumb. Then she twisted her face to one side, ending the kiss.

  “Stop, Zach, please.”

  Nothing had ever been quite so difficult for him to do. He wanted her so much that he ached. Only the trepidation he glimpsed in her eyes enabled him to let go of her. She planted a trembling hand at the center of his chest as if to hold him at bay.

  “I’m very attracted to you,” she whispered tremulously.

  Ditto, he thought.

  “I just don’t see how a relationship between us can go anywhere. I mean ... well, I’d be a liar if I said I haven’t thought about it—but I always end up at the same place.”

  “Where’s that?” he managed to ask, the words gravelly.

  “A dead end,” she whispered. “I’ll never get married, never, and when it comes to physical intimacy, anything short of that isn’t my style.”

  Normally Zach would have run like a scalded dog if a woman had said the M-word after only two kisses. But with Mandy, he felt different. It had been that way from the start, an instinctive knowledge deep within him that she was special, the woman he’d been waiting all his adult life to meet. She was so affectionate with Rosebud, so devoted to Luke, so courageous, and so unfailingly kind. How could any man get to know her and not dream of slipping a ring on her finger?

  “Sweetheart, why is marriage out of the question for you?”

  She shivered and rubbed her arms. “After what I’ve already told you, you need to ask? It just is. After
my dad ... well, I can’t imagine ever giving another man that kind of power over me. I know you don’t understand.”

  Zach did understand, and it made him feel half-sick.

  Face draining of color, she struggled to explain, her kiss-swollen lips quivering. “One time at a dinner party, I forgot to tip the goblets as I poured a vintage merlot for his guests. When everyone left, he beat the hell out of me, and after I went down, he started kicking me in the stomach.”

  Nausea mixed with a burn of rage pushed up Zach’s throat. “You don’t have to tell me, honey. I know talking about it ... well, it can’t be easy.”

  She shook her head. “Normally I avoid talking about any of it, but I need you to understand.” She splayed a hand between her breasts. “He kicked me and kicked me. And you know what he said each time? ‘I’ll teach you not to bruise the wine, you little bitch.’” In the moonlight, the tears that filled her eyes sparkled like diamonds. “There I was, huddled on the floor, wondering, ‘What about me, Dad? You’re bruising me.’ But he didn’t care. His precious wine mattered more to him than his own daughter did.”

  Zach scuffed the toe of his boot through the grass. He’d seen her childhood home this evening. He’d pictured her there as a kid. Now she’d put a new vision in his head, that of a helpless thirteen-year-old girl curled into a fetal position on the floor while her father worked her over. The image filled him with such anger that he trembled.

  “That was just one instance,” she whispered. “If I scorched one of his shirts, it was punching-bag time. If I pressed a wrinkle into a napkin, punching-bag time. If he saw a dust bunny, punching-bag time. I never knew what might set him off next. I only knew something would. He didn’t need much of an excuse.”

  “Ah, Mandy.” In that moment, Zach knew, without a doubt, that he had fallen wildly, madly, Stetson-over-boot-heels in love with her. Done deal, no turning back. He wasn’t sure when it had happened—or even how it had happened—but his feelings for her ran so deep now that a surgeon couldn’t have excised them with a scalpel. “I’m so sorry.”