“The sheets are clean,” Adam said when they walked into the bedroom. “And my room is on the other side of the house if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Adam.”
“The bathroom is across the hall.” Adam flashed the light across the hallway to the bathroom door. He then handed one of the flashlights to Kim.
“There are clean towels and washcloths in the bathroom. And help yourself to anything in the refrigerator, but I’m afraid there isn’t much.”
“Thanks, Adam. I’ll take a shower in the morning when the lights go back on. If that’s okay.”
“No problem. Sleep well.”
“You, too. Night, Adam.”
Sophie snuggled under the covers, listening to the persistent downpour pound Adam’s roof. The room was pitch-dark. Instead of setting the flashlight on the nightstand, she had it in the bed with her, close at hand. While drinking wine by the fireplace, Sophie had wondered if Adam was going to try kissing her. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to kiss him, but she didn’t want him to assume a kiss was an invitation to her bed. Well, his bed, if she wanted to be technical about it. She imagined her father would have an absolute fit if he discovered she was spending the night at a man’s house—a man she had just met three days earlier.
Tired, Sophie yawned and closed her eyes, giving herself to sleep. She didn’t know how long she had been sleeping when she heard it—footsteps coming down the hallway. With a jerk, she opened her eyes wide; the room was still in total darkness. By the sounds of the footsteps, it was obvious the person was making an effort to minimize the noise.
What is Adam doing? Sophie asked herself. Had she totally misjudged him? In a panic, she clutched her flashlight.
She heard someone jiggle the doorknob. Sophie cursed herself for not locking the door. Of course, Adam could easily get the doorknob unlocked with a small screwdriver, as interior locks rarely required keys. Yet, finding the door unlocked might give him the impression she wanted this.
Hearing the bedroom door ease open, Sophie lifted the flashlight, pointed it at the door, and turned it on. She bolted up in the bed, her eyes wide. Instead of Adam Keller’s face staring at her from the doorway, it was the face of a young woman with vivid blue eyes—Angela Carter.
Without thought, Sophie let out a chilling scream that startled the intruder. Angela turned and fled, while Sophie continued to scream. It wasn’t long before Adam came running to her, wearing just boxers.
“What is it?” he asked, flying into her room, carrying his flashlight.
“It was Angela,” Sophie told him, clutching at her blankets while still holding the flashlight.
“Angela? Where?”
“She’s in the house. She was just standing at the door where you are.”
“I’m locking this door, stay here,” Adam told her. Sophie watched as he locked and shut her door. She then heard him running down the hallway, looking for Angela.
Sophie got up from the bed and slipped on her robe. There was a phone sitting on the nightstand. She picked it up to call the police, but the line was dead. She cursed herself for leaving her cell phone in the living room. Nervously, she huddled by the locked door and waited for Adam.
“Sophie, it’s me,” Adam said a few minutes later as he tapped on her door. She quickly unlocked it. Adam came into the room and then locked it behind himself.
“I’ve gone through the house. The doors are all locked. There’s no sign of her.”
“Maybe she’s hiding someplace,” Sophie whispered.
“I don’t know how she would’ve gotten in here; there’s no sign of a break in.”
“Adam, I saw her. Honest. She was standing in the doorway. Maybe she used a key.”
“Sophie, I never gave Angela a key to my house. But I suppose it’s possible for her to have one. That wouldn’t be out of the question. We should call the police.”
“I tried the landline, but it’s dead.”
“It’s this damn storm.”
“My cell phone is in the living room,” Kim explained.
“Mine’s in my bedroom. I’ll go get it and call the police.”
Chapter 23
“It was probably a nightmare,” Sam Peterson told Adam and Sophie two hours later. The three sat in Adam’s living room. The electricity was back on.
“It wasn’t a dream. I saw her,” Sophie insisted.
“I went over there myself. Joe swears she’s been in bed all night. He even let me peek in her bedroom; she was sound asleep.”
“Joe wouldn’t know if she snuck out,” Adam said.
“I can’t imagine she walked over in this storm. And Joe would know if she took one of his cars.”
“Then Joe is lying,” Adam said.
“Joe thinks you’re harassing Angela.”
“What did you tell him?” Adam asked.
“I told Joe he needs to understand this is to be expected. Maybe it was a coincidence up at Clement Falls, but he has to understand how it looks to you. As for tonight, with everything that’s gone on, and now with Myrtle’s death. Well, he shouldn’t blame you.”
“I really don’t care if Joe blames me or not. Let’s not forget that Joe said nothing when I was arrested for Carol’s and Harrison’s murders when he knew what really happened.” Adam seethed in anger.
“Okay, okay, I get it. But I do think Sophie had a bad dream. Angela wasn’t here tonight.”
“Sam, why did you come on this call tonight? Now that I think about it, why is the police chief answering 911 calls?”
Sam didn’t answer immediately. Finally, he took a deep breath then exhaled. “Because of what happened at Myrtle’s.”
“What do you mean?”
“It may not have been an accident. There were no fingerprints on her back doorknob. It was wiped clean. That’s why I wanted them to check yours—to see if someone had gotten in here, like at Myrtle’s, and then wiped them off. But your doorknobs weren’t wiped clean. In fact they had some very clear fingerprints: yours.”
“How do you know they were mine?” Before Sam could answer the question Adam angrily spat, “Oh never mind. I forgot you have mine.”
“Adam, I was never happy about arresting you, but I had no choice at the time. Angela came in with some convincing evidence, and considering your situation with Harrison, you have to understand how it looked back then.”
“Sam, I really don’t care about all that now. But I do care that Angela broke into my home tonight and scared the crap out of Sophie. You need to do something.”
“Sophie,” Sam asked, “didn’t you say you were asleep when you heard someone at the door?”
“Yes. I turned the flashlight on, and I saw Angela standing at the door.”
“What happened next?”
“I screamed.”
“Then what happened?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“With Angela. What happened to her? Did you watch her run away?”
“I… Well, it happened so fast… it scared me… She just… Well, she just wasn’t there. I assumed she ran down the hallway.”
“So, you are saying she just disappeared.”
“Well, she didn’t actually disappear, like vanish in thin air.”
“Adam, where did you say you were when Sophie screamed?”
“I told you. I was in my bedroom. The minute I heard her scream, I grabbed my flashlight and ran to Sophie.”
“Did you see anyone running down the hall?”
“No. But it was dark.”
“But you had a flashlight, right?
“Well, yes, but she could have easily ducked in a closet or room when she heard me coming.”
“How did she get in the house? Didn’t you say it was locked?”
“Yes, but she probably had a key,” Adam said impatiently.
“Did you ever give her a key?”
“No, but…”
“Hell, even I’m starting to wonder if I dreamed the whole thing,” Sophi
e told Adam after Sam left.
“I wish I could believe that; it would make me feel better. Would you like a glass of wine? I could open another bottle.”
“No, but I could go for some hot cocoa, if you have some milk and chocolate.”
“I think I do. You sit down, I’ll make it.”
Angela walked into the kitchen and flipped on the light. She found her father sitting at the table, alone in the dark.
“Daddy, you startled me,” Angela said brightly as she opened the refrigerator and removed a carton of orange juice.
“Sam Peterson was here earlier,” Joe said in a dull voice.
“I know. You let him into my bedroom, didn’t you?”
“I thought you were asleep,” Joe said in an accusatory tone.
“It’s a good thing I don’t sleep nude, Daddy. That would have been quite shocking.”
“Your jacket was wet.”
“What are you talking about?” Angela poured herself a glass of juice.
“Your jacket—the one hanging on the coat rack—it’s wet. You went over there tonight, didn’t you?”
“I heard you tell Sam I was home all night, Daddy. You didn’t lie to Sam, did you?” Angela eyed her father as she sipped the juice.
“Why did you go over there?”
“I just wanted to see something.”
“What?”
“I wanted to see what was going on between Adam and that new girl.”
“He isn’t your business anymore, Angela. You have to stay away from him. If you’re caught at his house, they’ll put you back in jail.”
“Daddy, if it wasn’t for you I’d be married to Adam now.”
“Don’t hurt that girl, Angela.”
“I have no intentions of hurting her. And you should be happy I went over there tonight.”
“Why is that?”
“Because now I know the truth about her. She isn’t a threat. They weren’t even sleeping together. She’s staying in the spare bedroom. So, I guess you were right earlier. She’s just Nick Myers’ cousin that Adam is helping out. I know Adam; if he was remotely interested in her, she would be sharing his bed right now instead of sleeping alone.”
“And if she had been in his bed, what then?”
“Well, that’s easy. I’d just have to get rid of her.” Angela smiled at her father, finished her juice, and then set the empty glass in the sink. “Don’t stay up too late Daddy; you look awfully tired.”
Joe Carter sat at the table and watched his daughter leave the room. Wrestling with his conscience, he wondered if he should tell Sam the truth. He quickly dismissed the thought, knowing he would never do anything to get his little girl sent back to that awful place. She was right; it was his entire fault. Had he made other choices along the way, everything would be different.
Wearily, Joe stood and walked from the kitchen, turning the light off as he left the room. In some ways, Angela’s words gave him a sense of relief. If she didn’t see Adam’s friend as a threat, then Angela wouldn’t do anything rash. At least, he assumed she wouldn’t.
Chapter 24
“Are those the diaries?” Alex asked as she entered Garret’s home office on Tuesday morning. She walked to where he sat at the desk.
“Yes. I was going to start them last night, but with the electricity going off…” He shrugged.
“Well, I think we put the time to much better use.” Alex stood behind Garret, her hands on his shoulders as she leaned over and playfully nipped his right ear.
“Oh, me, too,” Garret agreed, as he reached up and patted Alex’s hand. “Perhaps we could take it up stairs and try for a rerun? After all, Sarah is at school…”
“You are incorrigible!” Alex laughed.
“Hey, you started it.”
Alex gave his cheek a quick kiss, then walked around to the front of the desk and picked up one of the diaries. She flipped through it.
“That’s my grandmother’s. I’m going to start with Randall’s,” Garret explained.
“Can I read this one while you do?”
“Does this mean you aren’t taking me upstairs to have your way with me?”
“Maybe later,” Alexandra said.
“You tease. But sure. And if you wonder who William is, he was my grandfather’s business partner.”
“William?”
“Kim read the first entry; it was about William, and she wanted to know who he was. I told her it was probably William Hunter.”
“As in Coulson-Hunter Enterprises?”
“Yes.”
“Wasn’t that the one who left Mary Ellen the library?” Alex asked.
“The very one.”
Alex picked up Mary Ellen’s diary and sat down in the chair facing Garret, holding the closed book on her lap. She looked over at Randall’s ledger.
“Garret, there’s only one diary there, and if it isn’t for 1960, it won’t really help. I didn’t even consider that when Kim mentioned them.”
“I already flipped through it. By the dates, it looks like he started the diary after Mary Ellen died, and he made entries up until his death.”
“All in that book? Didn’t he live for another twenty-five years after she died?”
“Let’s see…” Garret considered the question for a moment before answering. “My grandmother died on her birthday, July 4th in 1949. Grandfather died in 1981. He obviously didn’t make daily entries, but he filled the book. The first entry was right after Mary Ellen died, and the last was shortly before his death. His handwriting is not easy to decipher, so it’s not going to be an easy read.”
“I’ll let you get started.”
“I’m going to begin by looking for anything in the late sixties when Marino was here.”
“Okay, I’ll leave you to your reading. I’m going to take this in the other room and get to know your grandmother.”
After Alex left the room, Garret flipped through the pages of Randall’s ledger. He found an entry for October 1960 and began reading.
In the living room, Alex settled down on the recliner and opened Mary Ellen’s diary. The floral handwriting was precise and elegant, reminding Alex of a forgotten era. She immediately noticed that the first entry was addressed to William. Flipping through the pages, she noticed all the entries were directed to William—as if Mary Ellen were writing a series of letters.
Alex noted the dates of the entries. Each was written on January first. It appeared that Mary Ellen wrote in her diary once a year, beginning on January 1, 1934, with her last entry made January 1, 1949.
Curious, Alex read the first entry, the one Kim had read. She turned the page and moved onto the second entry, made the following year. Mary Ellen wrote of missing William, of the dust storms that swept through the Midwest, and when Alex got to the last paragraph of the second entry, she paused, then reread the passage a second time—and then a third.
* * *
Harrison has grown a foot since you’ve seen him. He will soon be as tall as you. I see you in him, but he is with Randall so much, he is picking up many of his mannerisms. People often comment that Harrison has my eyes but looks so much like his father. You were right; people see what they want to see.
Alex frowned, trying to grasp what Mary Ellen was saying. Her eyes swept down and re-read what Mary Ellen had written at the end of the entry.
* * *
Forever yours, Mary Ellen - January 1, 1935
* * *
Mary Ellen had written the same thing the previous year, Forever yours. With apprehension, Alex continued reading the diary.
In the next entry, for 1936, Mary Ellen wrote of Hitler and her fear of impending war. She wrote, I wish you were by my side so I could feel safe again. Alexandra frowned at the words—at the ever-present Forever yours at the end of each entry—and wondered, Was Mary Ellen in love with her husband’s business partner?
In the 1937 entry Mary Ellen wrote, On the home front, our son is seeing the daughter of one of Randall’s business ass
ociates. For a moment Alex’s heart skipped a beat when she read “our son” then laughed at herself and took a deep breath.
“She was obviously talking about her and Randall’s son,” Alex said aloud to the empty room. “You ninny.”
Alex continued to read, until she got to the last paragraph in the 1938 entry.
* * *
As much as I hated to do it, I had the library put in storage. Harrison and his bride have moved into your house. Since he is your son, it seemed appropriate. Randall promises me I will one day have a place for the library.
* * *
“Since he is your son?” Alex read aloud, bolting up in the recliner. She reread the first sentence of the 1938 entry where Mary Ellen had written, We are going to be grandparents. Alex initially assumed the “we” meant Mary Ellen and Randall. Yet, it clearly did not.
“Holy crap,” Alex said aloud. “Harrison is not a Coulson. Garret and Russell aren’t Coulsons. Their last name should be Hunter… Our daughter’s last name should be Hunter…”
Alex slammed the diary shut and hastily made her way to Garret’s office.
“Garret, I’m going out for a while,” Alex told him when she opened the office door and peeked in. Engrossed in whatever he was reading, Garret only nodded and gave her a slight wave. Alex didn’t ask if he had found anything interesting in Randall’s diary, and Garret didn’t ask where Alex was going.
“What do you mean they aren’t Coulsons?” Kate asked Alex, after she showed up at her house fifteen minutes later with Mary Ellen’s diary.
“I mean, Mary Ellen had an affair with her husband’s business partner, William Hunter. You know, the one who left her the library. He is Harrison Sr.’s father, not Randall.”
“How do you know that?” Katie asked her sister as she led her into the living room.
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