Past Forward- A Serial Novel: Volume 2

by Chautona Havig

  Chad crept into her room expecting to find Willow sleeping. Her bed looked untouched. He tried calling her name, but there was no reply. He jogged downstairs again and found the front door still locked from the inside. She must be in the house but where, and why was she not answering him?

  He dialed Willow’s phone and then laughed at her frantic answer. “Chad, get out here. Someone’s in the house.”

  “I’m in the house. Where are you?”

  “You came back?”

  As he climbed the stairs two at a time, he glanced around the upstairs rooms. “Yes. Where are you? I don’t see you—” He stopped mid-sentence as the stairs dropped from the attic door. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Scrambling down the steps, Willow shook her head as she reached the bottom. “I thought, ‘they’ve come back to get me now!’ and I was sure I’d have to kill someone tonight!”

  “That’s why I’m back! I got to the turnoff and thought, ‘You fool, you can’t leave her alone!’”

  Willow replaced the gun, grabbed her pajamas, and disappeared behind the bathroom door. Several minutes later, she reemerged ready for bed. “Night Chad. See you tomorrow. What time do you work?”

  “Ten.”

  “Good, you get the goat, and I’ll make the breakfast.”

  Chad stepped closer, his hand on her shoulder. “See, what’s so bad about an exchange like that every night?”

  “Don’t push me, Chad. I need time to adjust—to think.”

  His voice cut her to the quick. “Can I still hug you?”

  Ignoring the irrational warning bells in her mind, Willow leaned her head against his chest and tried to relax. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

  “Oh hush. I just needed a hug. I hate that I’ve done this to you.”

  “You could take it back…,” she urged.

  “Not on your life. As awkward as the discussion was, I believe it’s the best thing. For both of us.” He winked at her wry smile. “What are the odds your mom has some pajama bottoms that were really big on her?”

  Willow pulled out the bottom drawer of her mother’s bureau and retrieved a pair of pink sweats with ‘hottie’ written across the backside. “They came in an order we had for some thermals. Bill called about them, but the company said to keep them. Mother never could bring herself to wear them.”

  “And I’m supposed to?”

  “Sleep in your jeans. I don’t care.”

  Chad snatched the pink pants from her hands and stormed into the bathroom. Willow, unwilling to miss this scene, grabbed her lamp and set it on the dresser by the door. When Chad emerged, she snorted most indelicately. “That’s a lovely look on you.”

  He ignored her and turned to enter Kari’s bedroom. Just before he closed the door, Chad flipped his shirttail displaying the word. “If the term fits, wear it,” he quipped as he kicked the door shut.

  “Night, Chad,” she whispered as she carried the lamp back to her table, turned it off, and crawled into bed.

  “I thought there was nothing going on with her and the cop. I mean, he gets a call and leaves and barely hugs her before he takes off. I’m more affectionate with my great aunt Phyllis—whom I hate by the way. Then late after he leaves, he turns around and comes back. I thought maybe they had a fight and broke up, but lights came on in two different rooms, so I guess he’s just kind of a bodyguard or something.”

  Solari listened carefully. No kissing, no sharing a room. This was good. “So how did she respond to the loss of her mutt?”

  “She puked.”

  “Good. Good. Step two. Take it to step two on Sunday. If she goes to church, while she’s gone is best. Did you get a copy of the key from one of those kids?”

  Ben nodded pulling a ring of keys from his pocket. “Got all three.”

  “I’ve got a guy ‘apprenticing’ for the local locksmith on the off-chance that she calls them, but I think you’ll have to be ready to get the kids keys again.”

  Ben stood. “I’ll take care of it.”

  Solaris stopped him at the door. “Whatever you do, remember. Protect the girl.”

  “Consider it done.”

  Willow burst into the kitchen shivering. For the first time, she regretted turning down a ride home. The temperature had dropped several degrees, and her nose felt the chill even through the scarf. “Glad I didn’t let the chickens out while I was gone,” she muttered, huddling around the stove.

  As she turned to warm her backside, her eyes widened. Something was wrong. Her eyes scanned every inch of the room before she saw it. A few things were rearranged on the hutch and the teapot was gone. She found a shard of it on the cabinet, a ding in the wood, and another shard across the room.

  On a hunch, she raced outdoors to the incinerator and found the remaining pieces of the teapot in there. Her mind whirled. How much money was in the pot? One thousand? Two? She’d often considered putting the money in the bank now that she had her card and checkbook but hadn’t ever made it a priority.

  Someone had been inside her house. They could still be in there. Where to go? The barn wasn’t any safer, and it was too cold to stay outdoors for long. With a deep sigh and thankful that she wasn’t sleeping there that night, Willow dug her cell phone from her pocket and dialed Chad.

  “Someone’s been in the house. They took all the money.”

  “Get out of there,” Chad ordered.

  “I can’t. It’s too cold and the barn is even less safe than the house.”

  “Not if no one is in it, get in the barn and lock it.”

  “And if they’re out there now, I’m locked inside with them.”

  “You need a car, Willow!”

  “Well I don’t have one!”

  Sounding panicked, Chad hushed her. “You don’t want them to hear you if they’re in there. Keep talking. I know, go down into the cellar, and take a knife.”

  Chad found her there minutes later as he burst into the house his gun drawn, and ready to take on whomever might be lurking. “Go out to my car, get inside, lock the doors, and get down behind the seats until I come out.”

  “But—”

  “Go, Willow!” he yelled as he pushed her out the door.

  Kitchen, pantry—irrationally the cellar—room by room, he inspected the house, looking for intruders, but found it empty. The barn showed no signs of anything off—but footprints led up to the house from the wrong direction. He waved at her, calling when she opened the door, “Get my camera from the glove compartment.”

  She crawled from her awkward hiding place and brought him the camera still smarting from his sharp words. “What did you find?”

  “Footprints. I’ll take pictures and if we find the guy, we’ll find shoes or boots it looks like, and if it’s a match…”

  Willow hunkered on her heels and stared at the imprints. Without a word, she left him snapping pictures, trying to get the best angle and hurried to the barn, returning quickly with a shovel in hand. “Which one don’t you need?”

  “That one. Why?”

  She scooped up the snow, carried the print to the bones of her greenhouse, and looked for an un-trampled footprint. “Chad! Over here.”

  Chad stumbled awkwardly through the snow as quickly as possible. “What.”

  “It’s Ryder’s. It’s exactly like his.”

  A grim look crossed Chad’s face. “I knew we shouldn’t—”

  “Chad,” she insisted, “he didn’t do this. Ryder wouldn’t do this. Not now.”

  “But you just proved he did.”

  She shook her head. “No, I proved that your other footprints don’t mean anything.”

  Deflated, Chad had to agree. Deep down, he did think Ryder had changed but the evidence had seemed so compelling. “Well, we’ve probably destroyed anything by the back door but—”

  Chad tried retracing his steps exactly in order to avoid adding more confusing prints to the mix. As he examined the yard, the back steps, and the door locks, he returned to the
front yard and stared at the steps before him. Slowly, he followed them from a distance until they disappeared beneath his tire tracks. Hugging the fence, he followed the tracks almost to the road before another half boot print showed. Satisfied, he snapped another picture of it and returned to his vehicle.

  “Willow, I think you need to tell Caleb to take care of the animals tonight. We’ll take your things and you can spend the afternoon with Lily or at my apartment. You’re not coming back here until we get a locksmith out here.”

  “I’m behind them on the road between Fairbury and the Loop. I’ll pass them soon and switch cars out at the rest stop. I’ll need to do that again at the convenience store just outside of Westbury. Can you have a car sent there?”

  “What are you driving?”

  “My car.”

  “Ok, I’ll send the SUV. You sure about destination?”

  “Definitely. There was a pile of packages on the coffee table. I recognized several names.”

  “Westbury…” Solari’s voice sounded pleased. “Perfect. What did you do in the house?”

  “Broke a teapot, took almost two grand from it, and cleaned most of it up. What do I do with the two grand?”

  “Keep it. A bonus.”

  Ben smiled and accelerated around Chad’s truck. “What do you think makes her keep money like that in the house?”

  “Fear. Fear is the root of all stupidity.”

  After he disconnected, Steven Solari glanced at his wife as she dismantled the tree in order to make way for her elaborate party decorations. Great. New Year’s. “I think I may take a ride to check out a few Westbury properties tomorrow. How would you like to go along with me?”

  “I’ve got this party—”

  “Let Eva handle it. Then if that nasty Toni Bertram has anything nasty to say, you can always blame the housekeeper and rub her face in the fact that your husband likes to have you around.”

  Lynne’s slow smile told him she liked his plan. “What time?”

  “We’ll do lunch there first. There’s a great new restaurant on Churchill.”

  Ben arrived an hour later and passed him a slip of paper on top of a pizza box. “That’ll be seventeen-ninety.”

  Solari snickered as he shut the door. He unfolded the paper on his way to the kitchen. The address. “Hello, Willow,” he whispered.

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  “They’re here!” Cheri’s called through the house as she raced to the car. “You took forever! Here, let me take some of those!” To her brother, she tossed an irritated look. “You need a real car bro! She shouldn’t have to ride all the way out here smothered in packages!”

  “Actually, they kept the hot air off of my face. I get so sick with that.”

  Chad locked the car as he remarked, “I didn’t know that. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Well,” she began, winking at Cheri, “my mother taught me it was rude to complain.”

  Cheri carried the packages as she led the way into the house. Chad waited until she disappeared through the doorway, before he leaned down and whispered, “Another reason to get married. It’s not complaining when you’re sharing a preference with a husband.”

  “That’s just semantics, and you know it. One day it’s ‘sharing’ and the next it’s nagging. I’ve read too many books with harpies for wives. No thanks.”

  “Hey, come on in, you two! It’s freezing out here.”

  Chad and Willow stared at each other, snickering. Willow kissed Marianne’s cheek as she passed under the mistletoe, Willow said, “Thanks for having me, Midge.”

  “Midge?”

  Chad followed, kissing his mother’s cheek and glancing around the room as he did. Perhaps strategic placement of mistletoe would help melt the fearful icicles around her heart. “While You Were Sleeping. You’ve been watching it again.”

  Once she shut the door behind her, Marianne hugged her son. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Happy New Year, Mom. Oh and,” he leaned closer whispering, “I talked to Willow about dad’s suggestion on marriage. Maybe you or Aunt Libby—”

  “Not interested?”

  “More like terrified.”

  “I’ll hand her over to Libby then. She’s better with firm and compassionate. I seem limited to one or the other.”

  The sound of laughter from the living room drew Chad and his mother to see what the commotion was. Willow sat blushing on the couch, and Christopher looked smug. “Got her. She was watching doorways but missed the ceiling fan.”

  “Good one, Dad!”

  “I think Willow looks exhausted.”

  “It’s been a long week,” she admitted blushing further.

  Christopher’s eyes shot to Chad’s face while Cheri dragged Willow the stairs and into the guest room. “Chad?”

  He shook his head holding up one finger until Willow reappeared to brush her teeth, eventually closing the bedroom door behind her. “There was the thing with the dog, the thing with the money, and she’s still upset about the idea of marriage.”

  Marianne joined them with a tray of hot chocolate and cookies. “So you asked her, told her, got an opinion, what?”

  “I told her what Dad said about playing house—”

  “I was a little harsh...”

  Shaking his head, Chad continued. “No, you were right. I was really mad that day. See, part of it is that you don’t know how things are, and it was just too easy to rest on that fact rather than consider your concerns.” He swallowed. “I had myself convinced you were wrong until I realized that I left my deodorant at her house and decided to leave it there for when I needed it.”

  “With all the work you do there, that makes sense though, Chad!” Christopher didn’t understand his son’s logic.

  “But I felt perfectly comfortable just doing it without a second thought. I didn’t have a reason in mind outside the fact that I’m there. A lot. And I’ve been there every night this week.”

  “I’d hope so.” Marianne hesitated before she added, “You were in separate rooms…”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  Snuggled together on one corner of the couch, Chad saw a picture of him and Willow twenty years in the future with the possible exception of Willow’s size. He couldn’t imagine a chubby Willow. At last, Marianne’s voice broke the awkward silence that had begun to grow. “You really aren’t in love with her, are you?”

  “No, Mom. I’m not.”

  “Why not! She’s a beautiful, intelligent, interesting woman! She has everything going for her, you enjoy her company—”

  “And he spent the first several months of his time with her resenting it,” Christopher added. “I think he’s in the habit of holding her aloof for whatever reason.”

  Chad hadn’t admitted it to anyone let alone himself but his father was correct. “It’s the end of my dream. It’s selfish and despicable, but it’s true.”

  “What dream, Chaddie?”

  “Ever since I can remember I wanted to be a cop on the streets of Rockland. I wanted to be one of those guys busting gangs in the inner city or negotiating hostage situations.” His head dropped into his hands. “As much as I want a life in Fairbury, and yes, with Willow, that life means there’s no chance for the life I’ve worked toward for so long.”

  Marianne started to rise and go to her son, but Christopher jerked her back to her seat. “In other words Chad, you won’t let yourself fall in love with the perfect woman for you because you are throwing a tantrum over what you can’t have. You can have it all except something that strokes your pride, but that’s not enough. You want the house in the country with the fishing stream, the gorgeous wife, and the respect of your community, oh, and a high profile job in the city. All at once.”

  “I know. I said it’s despicable.”

  “It is. It’s also understandable,” Christopher conceded, “but it’s selfish.”

  His fists clenched tightly as he struggled. His mother shoved his father’s hands aside and moved to Chad’s
feet. Taking his hands in hers, she tilted her head until she could meet his gaze. “That’s not it, Chad. It’s a lie. You’re lying to yourself out of some misplaced self-preservation.”

  “But—”

  She caught her son’s face in her hands and held it, gazing into his eyes. “It’s a risk to open your heart. You’re right. She may never reciprocate your affection. You happened to choose a girl who has reason to both be leery of men and not see any benefits to marriage. Love is a risk as well as an action. It’s rolling the dice on the craps tables over and over and over until you finally get the right numbers even if it bankrupts you in the process.”

  “Marianne!”

  “Crass analogy but it’s the best I can do. Shut up.” She waved her hand dismissively at her husband who chuckled behind his hand. Even Chad managed a smile. His mother’s occasional feistiness always tickled his father.

  “It’s not that. I’ve always wanted a family, and Willow is—”

  His mother clamped a hand over his mouth and shook her head. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you’re not going to lie to me. You’re afraid of love, and I’m not letting you up out of that chair until you admit it.”

  He fought it. Repeatedly he started to argue and then ground his teeth, forcing himself to keep quiet. His mother would surely give up if he just refused to talk. Her ideas were ludicrous and ridiculous. Why would he be afraid of love? Besides, he did love Willow and had already admitted as much.

  Eyes—concerned, serious eyes—bored into him while he wrestled with the truths he fought. I’m a man—a law enforcement officer. I’m not afraid of anything. They’re crazy. He tried to avoid their gazes but they followed him, wherever his eyes went. “I can’t,” he whispered.

  “Can’t what, son?”

  His lip trembled, but Chad willed himself not to cry. “I—no.” His head shook.

  “Just face it. You’re letting some fear paralyze you, and it’s going to hurt both of you in the long run.

  “Mom—” Determined to get it over with, the words poured from him. “I can’t stand the idea of being in love with someone who doesn’t love me.”