Coulson’s Lessons
The Coulson Series - Book 3
Anna J. McIntyre
Robeth Publishing, LLC
Coulson’s Lessons
By Anna J. McIntyre
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Book 3 of The Coulson Series
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PUBLISHED BY:
Robeth Publishing, LLC
Copyright © 2013 B. A. J. Holmes
This is a work of fiction.
Robeth Publishing, LLC, All Rights Reserved.
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Originally Released in 2011 as Lessons
Copyright © 2011 B. A. J. Holmes, Anna J. McIntyre
To Grandma Hilda.
Her lessons were about love.
Prologue
Spring 1972
Alexandra Chamberlain considered breaking Jimmy Keller’s other leg. Perhaps she would finish what the motorcycle accident failed to do—kill him. She had warned him not to attempt the dangerous jump, yet he refused to listen. She was relieved the only damage was one broken leg. Although she was begrudgingly grateful Jimmy had survived the foolish stunt, he’d inadvertently left her without a date for the senior prom.
“Things happen for a reason, Alexandra, even bad things.” Grandma Sarah’s words did little to soothe the disappointed teenager, who stood before the floor-length mirror holding her prom dress in front of her already-clad body. The midnight blue gown, cut from soft velour, had an empire-cut bodice and plunging neckline, revealing a daring amount of cleavage for a seventeen-year-old girl in 1972. Alexandra would not be wearing it now, or so she thought.
It was too late to find another date for the prom. She felt a little guilty over her anger; after all, poor Jimmy had broken his leg. Yet, did he have to be so reckless the day before prom?
“Even our tragedies and mistakes have lessons. You just need to listen.” Grandma Sarah sat on Alex’s double bed and watched her granddaughter hang the prom dress back in the closet.
“And what’s my lesson? I should care more about Jimmy than about wearing a pretty dress?”
“Maybe. Your disappointment is natural. Disappointment is part of life. It doesn’t always go as we expect. But usually, it’s for the best.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m awful, Grandma. Jimmy is okay and everything. He actually thought breaking his leg was cool! He’s an idiot.”
“So why did you agree to go with him in the first place?”
“Because I’m an idiot.” Alex shrugged her shoulders, sat on the bed, and leaned against her grandmother. “And he happens to be one of my best friends.”
An hour later, the phone rang.
“Hi, Alex? This is Ryan. Ryan Keller. Jimmy’s brother.”
Alexandra thought a moment. The older brother, the one in college, good-looking and smart. And he is also my brother’s close friend.
“How’s Jimmy?” Alexandra asked.
“He’ll live. Unfortunately,” he answered with a chuckle. “I’m visiting home for the weekend, and, well, Jimmy tells me he was to take you to prom. There’s a tux hanging in his closet, and I think I can squeeze into it. How about I take you?”
Silence. Alexandra was speechless.
“Come on, Alex. I missed my senior prom. Tommy told me you have a gorgeous dress.”
More silence. Oh my God! Tommy put him up to this! I’ll kill my brother. Ryan thinks I’m a charity case!
“Please, Alex,” he asked very sweetly. “I’ll be able to torment Jimmy for years over how I stole his good-looking date because he was stupid enough to break his leg the day before prom.”
Grandma Sarah was right; even bad things happen for a reason. Four years later, after graduating from college, Alexandra married Ryan Keller. Jimmy was the best man, and Ryan never let his younger brother forget how he’d stolen his prom date.
Part One
Chapter 1
Twenty-Three Years Later
Beneath the frayed patchwork quilt, Alex drew her bare knees to her chest and protectively wrapped her arms around the bent limbs. Her tear-stained face peeked out from the quilt’s folds as she rested her head wearily against the paneled headboard. The early dawn’s sunlight began to slip in at random points on the covered bedroom window, finding its way through the ill-fitted slats of the vertical blinds.
All was quiet. Alex was alone in the dark room. Her eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness. She suspected her sister, Kate, was sleeping in the guest room. It had been hours since she’d heard any sounds from the house.
Alex closed her eyes and settled down against a warm pile of pillows. She had been awake and sobbing for what seemed like an eternity. Had it only been yesterday morning when everything was still good and sweet? How could so many lives change in an instant?
Yesterday Morning
Ryan turned off the annoying alarm of the clock radio. Alex stretched, reluctant to leave the relaxing bliss of sleep. Even with her eyes closed, she could tell by his movements that Ryan was already dressed.
“Are you going to sleep all day?” came Ryan’s familiar greeting. He delivered the question in his typical playful and good-natured fashion.
“If you join me,” Alex responded lazily, opening her eyes.
“Promises, promises.” Ryan chuckled, then dropped a quick kiss on his wife’s forehead and left the bedroom to make coffee.
Twenty minutes later, they sat at the breakfast bar, fully dressed and discussing the day’s agenda. Ryan was in especially good humor. He usually was in the morning. It was his time of day. While sipping the steaming mug of coffee, Alex fondly observed her husband as he enthusiastically discussed ordinary subjects.
His raspy laugh was infectious, and Alex found the lines around his eyes charming when they crinkled and deepened during laughter. A woman could not get away with those lines, Alex thought with a sigh. His reddish-brown hair had begun to thin in his early twenties, and now in his mid-forties, the top of his head was nearly bald. When combing what remained of his hair, Ryan would shrug and say, “At least I haven’t gone gray.” His lack of vanity was one of the many things Alex loved about her husband.
“I’ve some errands to run this morning. Do you want to go with me or take your own car?” Ryan asked as he rinsed his coffee cup in the sink and placed it in the dishwasher.
“I need to get there early. Payroll’s today. I’ll just take my own.” Alex reached for her purse. It was still sitting on the kitchen counter where she’d placed it the night before. She opened it and began searching for her keys.
“Do you think you can pick up some quarters at the bank? We need a couple hundred,” Alex asked, her gaze still focused in the open purse.
“No way,” Ryan teased. He meant yes. Alex understood. Ryan kissed her goodbye and promised to see her before noon. He didn’t keep his promise.
Later, Alex could not recall the exact words of the police officer. The entire moment was lost in a haze of disbelief and shock. A senseless car accident. It wasn’t Ryan’s fault. Yet, what did it matter whose fault it was? He was gone.
At first, Alex refused to believe. It was a mistake, a sick joke, anything but the truth. She didn’t cry. She was angry. This is silly, she thought. People did not have fatal car accidents in their own neighborhoods.
It was not until she saw his body that reality dawned. The unimaginable had happened. By this time, her sister, Kate, and her brother, Tommy, were by her side.
Alex retreated to her bedroom and began to cry. Then, she began to sob. The tears came without reprieve. Sobs rocked her body until she could not stop them.
At the Lucky Lady Restaurant and Saloon, owned by Alex and Ryan Keller, the grieving staff pulled together. They took turns using the telephone, calling family and friend
s of their deceased employer. They vowed to stand by Alex’s side, protect her when necessary and watch over the business that was the livelihood for them all.
Alex pulled the quilt tight around her weary body. Yesterday morning was part of another world. In some strange way, Adam was still a part of that other world, for he still believed his father was alive. She was glad he was on the fishing trip and could have a few more hours without the sorrow. There would be plenty of time for the grief. In truth, she wanted time to pull herself together. Adam would need her strength, and currently, she had nothing to give.
She closed her eyes, and for the first time in more than twenty hours, she began to sleep. In her sleep, she began to dream. The dream was no more than a ghostly memory of the long-ago first date with her husband, Ryan.
Alexandra’s eyes fluttered open, and she glanced at the clock: 7:00 a.m. She closed her eyes again and thought about Grandma Sarah. I’ll never see a reason for Ryan’s death, Alexandra thought to herself as she drifted back to sleep.
There are always lessons. Alexandra could hear her grandmother’s voice. Life would be nothing more than random acts if we didn’t have the lessons. Ignoring them is what makes senseless tragedies senseless.
Chapter 2
Emily’s curiosity got the best of her. Patience was not a virtue she claimed. Besides, it was tenacity that had enabled her to become the executive assistant to one of the most powerful men in Coulson. The fact that her employer’s grandfather, Randall Coulson, was the town’s founder and namesake boosted her feeling of self-importance.
Twenty minutes earlier, her employer, Russell Coulson, instructed her to call Joe Carter, Coulson’s Chief of Police. As soon as Carter was on the line, Russell wanted the call transferred to his office.
Emily sat at her large desk in the outer office, restlessly tapping her manicured nails against the plastic outer edge of her computer’s keyboard. Her shrewd gray-blue eyes stared at the multi-line telephone. Ten minutes earlier, she had routed Carter’s call to Russell’s private office. The light to his phone line had gone off five minutes ago; he was no longer on the phone. Russell should have called her into his office by now.
With an impatient shrug, she pushed her chair away from the desk and stood up. She did not intend to wait a minute longer for his summons. Clad in a stylish gray business suit, she marched to the door that separated Russell’s office from her own. Gently tossing back her shortly cut crop of velvety black hair, she eased the door open.
Russell’s back faced her. He stood at the far side of the spacious office, staring out the large picture window that looked out on downtown Coulson. He wore tan slacks, a dark blue golf shirt tucked in at his belted waist, and brown loafers. He stood akimbo, silent, and thoughtful. Emily noticed his light brown hair, tinged in gray, had recently been trimmed.
Deep in thought, Russell did not hear Emily come into the office. Since entering his forties, he had become increasingly aware of the fragile quality of life. Today’s news only enforced that belief. Happiness was elusive and tenuous.
Russell first heard the news bulletin on his way to work. A car accident claimed the life of a longtime Coulson resident, and until the family was notified, the identity would not be released. Since he knew most of the longtime residents, he had immediately called Carter to learn the victim’s identity.
“Well?” Emily stood several feet behind Russell. Interrupted from his private thoughts, he turned and faced his secretary. She was surprised to find tears brimming in his blue eyes.
“Oh my god, who was it?” she gasped.
“Ryan Keller,” he answered softly, then walked to his desk and sat down, leaning back wearily in his large chair.
“Ryan Keller?” she puzzled, relieved it was not someone she knew personally. “Isn’t he the one that owns the Lucky Lady Restaurant and Saloon?”
He nodded.
She walked over to Russell and sat in one of the two chairs facing his desk. “Well, that’s too bad. But I didn’t know you were even friends.”
“We graduated from high school together. At one time, we were very good friends,” Russell said sadly. He leaned over the desk and rested his elbows against the desktop. “That was a very long time ago.”
“He’s married to Alexandra Keller,” she stated hesitantly.
“That’s right.”
“I don’t care for the woman,” Emily blurted out impulsively only to be met by a harsh glare. “It doesn’t mean I don’t feel sorry for her loss. I simply find her to be rather…” What was the right word? she asked herself. Annoying, irritatingly middle class, PTA, den mother, cookie sales volunteer?
“Everyone likes Alexandra Keller,” Russell stated wearily. He should be angry at Emily’s callousness. Yet, that was Emily.
“No. You like everyone.” She smiled sweetly. “It is too bad. Why hasn’t the radio broadcasted Ryan Keller’s name? Surely they’ve contacted his wife by now.”
Emily, who absently inspected her manicure, was growing a little bored with the conversation, yet she didn’t want to appear too insensitive. A couple of concerned inquiries, then she could get back to work. She wanted to get out of the office for an early lunch. There was a lovely pair of gold earrings she wanted to buy.
“They have a teenage son, Adam. He’s on a fishing trip with Ryan’s brother, Jimmy. Until they contact Jimmy and Adam, no names will be released.” Russell glanced up and noticed Emily’s attention was elsewhere. Cold bitch, he thought. But, she was an excellent assistant.
“I really must get back to work.” Emily jumped up and patted Russell’s shoulder, then left the room.
Once alone in his office, Russell reached for his phone. Before he dialed the number, he pushed his intercom.
“Emily?”
“Yes, Mr. Coulson?” Emily’s voice came from the small box.
“Until further notice, I don’t want to be disturbed. Hold all my calls. No exceptions.”
“Yes, Mr. Coulson.”
With a deep sigh, Russell moved his hand from the intercom to his phone and dialed.
“Coulson Enterprises,” answered a female voice.
“Garret Coulson’s office,” Russell requested. He glanced up at the closed door, which separated his private office from the outer office.
“Garret Coulson’s office,” answered a familiar female voice.
“Hello, Susan. Is my brother in?”
“Hello, Mr. Coulson.” Susan’s greeting brightened with recognition. “How’s the weather in Coulson?”
“Warm and sunny.” Russell grinned. He always played the weather game with Garret’s assistant. “How’s the weather there?”
“You rat. We’re getting snow.” Susan laughed. “I’ll put your brother on.”
Garret Coulson stretched out awkwardly in his swivel office chair. There simply was not room for his six-foot-three frame to get comfortable. Leaning back casually, he contemplated life.
He hated Chicago. He hated his damned office. He missed Coulson. Yet, he’d been exiled—a self-imposed exile. Lifting one foot, he gave his desk a kick, but instead of sending his chair sprawling backward, his desk jolted forward just as his phone rang.
He sat up straight and grabbed the phone’s receiver. Susan announced Russell was on the phone. If Russy gloated about the weather, Garret swore he would reach through the phone line and strangle his little brother.
“If you say warm and sunny, you’re off my Christmas list,” Garret growled into the phone.
“Morning, Garret.” Russell’s voice was weary, no jesting: trouble at home.
Garret pulled his chair up to the desk and took a firmer hold of the phone’s receiver. “What’s the problem, Russy?”
“There was a car accident in Coulson yesterday morning. Three people were killed.” Russell spoke softly, carefully measuring the words.
“Who?” Garret did not bother asking if he knew the victims. It was obvious he did or his brother would not be calling.
“R
yan Keller.”
There was just a moment of silence before Garret blurted out, “Oh my God, Alex!”
“No, Garret,” Russell hurriedly replied. He had not considered his brother would jump to that conclusion. “Alex wasn’t with him. Ryan was alone in the car. The other two were the driver and passenger from the other vehicle. They weren’t from Coulson.”
Relief flooded Garret. He could feel the familiar ache in the pit of his stomach. After ten years, Alexandra still had the ability to take hold of his heart and bring him to his knees. He steadied his voice, unwilling to reveal his inner emotions to his younger brother.
“How’s Alex holding up?”
Russell noticed the instantaneous change in Garret’s tone: detached and remote. Russell smiled sadly. “I’ve no idea. Jimmy’s out of town with their son. From what I understand, Jimmy and Adam don’t know yet.”
“How old is Adam now?” Garret remembered the last time he’d seen the boy, Adam was barely in grade school. Even then, he was a miniature of Ryan Keller.
“I think he’s a junior or senior. Not sure.”
“Rough age to lose a father.”
“Any age is bad to lose a father,” Russell replied, and then he asked, “I imagine the funeral will be in two or three days. Will you come?”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Garret was astonished that Russell would make such a suggestion.
“Alex always considered you a good friend.”
Silence.
“She might need you.” Russell’s words were hesitant, soft.
“I am her friend.” Garret’s voice was low. “And as her friend, her very dear friend, I would never consider subjecting her to such confusion. I’m the last person she’d want to see at Ryan’s funeral.”
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