The Life She Stole

by S W Vaughn

  “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.

  26

  Monday

  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 poli
ce 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.

  I pick up the handset and press the flashing button. “Hughes Real Estate, this is Celine,” I say.

  “Hey, Celine. It’s Brad.”

  My brow furrows. He sounds exhausted, maybe even sad, and I’m not sure why he called the office instead of my phone. “Hey. Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I just …” He gives a ragged sigh. “I’m sorry for calling you at work, but I don’t have your number,” he says.

  I almost slap my forehead. Of course he doesn’t have my cell — I never gave it to him, and I’ve only talked to him on the hospital room phone. Those don’t come with caller ID. “It’s no problem. What’s up?”

  He hesitates, and then says, “I need to talk to you, but don’t want to do it on the phone. Can you come to the hospital for a minute?”

  I’m getting a little worried. He sounds more miserable with every word. I can think of a dozen things that might’ve gone wrong — he’s changed his mind about Alyssa, or me. His mother had a meltdown. His doctor told him that he’s going to have long-term problems. “Okay. I do have some time before my next appointment,” I say. “Can I get a hint about what’s wrong?”

  “I’d rather tell you in person,” he whispers hoarsely.

  Oh, no. It must be really bad. “All right, I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I say.

  “Thank you, Celine.”

  As I hang up, I’m already grabbing my purse and briefcase. I shove my phone in my pocket and hurry toward the back door, ignoring the look from Sabrina.

  Something strange occurs to me while I’m getting in the car. Brad just called the office number to reach me … but I never told him where I worked or what I did. At least, I can’t recall telling him. But it’s easy enough to look me up online, since my name shows up on a lot of listings. That must be what he did.

  I start the engine and head for the hospital, hoping that whatever Brad wants to talk about isn’t as bad as I think it is.

  27

  Willa Dowling is in the house when I walk into Brad’s room, and she looks twice as pissed as the last time. The instant she sees me, her face flushes brick red and she opens her mouth to scream.

  “Mother, don’t,” Brad says sharply from the bed. His head is inclined, but he’s lying limp beneath a sheet pulled to his waist, and the hollows under his eyes are darker than ever. “Please, just go to the cafeteria and get a cup of coffee, or something. I need a few minutes.”

  Willa rounds on him, sputtering with a hand in the air. He shoots her a glare, and she whirls and stalks past me, bumping my shoulder hard on the way.

  Once she’s out of the room, Brad groans softly and closes his eyes. “I wish she’d stop doing that,” he says, shaking his head. He looks at me and gulps, then gestures to the chair beside him. “You should probably sit down for this.”

  My jaw clenches with anticipation as I cross the room and take a seat. “What is it?” I say. “You’re having health problems, aren’t you? Complications from the coma.”

  He smirks. “You know, I actually wish that was it,” he says. “But no. I have to talk to you about … that night. The accident. And it’s kind of a long story, so you’ll have to bear with me, okay?”

  “All right,” I whisper. Now I have no idea what to expect, but from the look on his face, I know it can’t be good.

  Brad looks away and composes himself, and then folds his hands in his lap. “Before I tell you this, I want you to know that I’m so glad you let me meet Alyssa,” he says. “She really is amazing. And … I’m afraid I’m not worthy to be in her life, or yours.”

  That isn’t on the list of things I might have expected. “What do you mean? Of course you are,” I say. “You’re her father.”

  “No I’m not. Worthy, I mean.” His chest heaves once. “First, I need to tell you why I left,” he says. “You asked about our future, whether we’d stay together, and I panicked. I have serious commitment issues, thanks to all that time with Hannah.” Anger darkens his green eyes for a moment. “You can probably imagine why, but after her, I never wanted to be tied down to one person again. At least, I thought I didn’t.”

  “Yes, I think I can imagine.” I don’t tell him what Hannah said to me, about how sorry she is for the way she treated him. If there’s going to be an
apology there, it’ll have to come from her. “So you thought you didn’t …?” I prompt.

  He nods slowly. “I was wrong about that. I loved you … I still love you,” he says, shivering slightly. “And I did want to commit. But I was so terrified to tell you the truth, to open up that way, that I ran instead. But …” He winces and looks away. “But I didn’t go to a liquor store. I went to Monkey Shines.”

  The off-campus bar. “Okay,” I say carefully. “So you got drunk there, instead of in your car or whatever.”

  “Yes. But I didn’t get drunk alone.” He stares intently at his hands, squeezing them until his knuckles tighten. “Jill was there.”

  I blink. “Jill Mazer?”

  “She was your best friend,” he says quickly. “I thought if I talked to her, maybe … I don’t know. I had some idea of making you see reason, understand why I couldn’t commit, so you wouldn’t leave me. I thought you’d break up with me if I said no. And Jill said she’d listen, and she started buying me drinks.” He tips his head back to stare at the ceiling. “A lot of drinks.”

  Oh, my God. “Jill got you drunk,” I say. “And she let you drive after that?”

  “She didn’t just get me drunk.” He finally looks at me, with bright tears standing in his eyes. “She was flirting with me the whole time. I was plastered and upset about you, and I just … well, I didn’t turn her down.”

  “You …” I manage before my throat closes around the rest. My stomach heaves, and I wrap my arms around my midsection to keep from throwing up. “You slept with her.”

  He nods miserably. “In the bathroom at Monkey Shines,” he says. “It was stupid and terrible, and part of me knew that, but I still went ahead and did it. That’s why I’m not worthy,” he whispers. “Because I did that to you.”

  My head pounds with blinding force. Jill got drunk with Brad, and screwed him in the bathroom, right before the accident. All this time she’d told me what a piece of shit he is, reminded me how terribly he’d treated me, but she never mentioned why.