“Um, Sam, would you mind just handing the phone to Nate? At least then he doesn’t have the choice of not answering.”
“Sure thing, Jewel. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah, later,” she promised.
Sam covered the mouthpiece and looked up. “Nate.”
Nate glanced at him and gave him a quizzical look.
Sam extended the phone. “For you.”
Nate got up and took the phone. “Hello?”
Sam watched his face light up like a fireworks display. He smiled and went back to work, hoping one day he would find the same kind of love that those two had for each other.
SEVEN
Emily picked up the package sitting in front of her door. That was three weeks in a row. She dreaded Fridays. He – whoever he was – had completely ruined the day for her.
She opened the door and locked it securely behind her. She then began flipping on lights as she went through the house. When she had checked the last room, she breathed a sigh of relief. No one was there. She whispered a prayer of thanks, realizing that was the only time she ever offered prayers anymore. She tossed the thought to the back of her mind.
She returned to the kitchen and opened her freezer. Taking down a frozen steak dinner, she popped it into the microwave. As it was heating, she took the package from the living room into a spare bedroom and set it on a mahogany table.
She grabbed a pair of large tweezers, then gently and carefully unwrapped the gift. As she saw what was inside, she dropped the tweezers and took a step back.
How had he gotten this? This couldn’t possible be the same man as the one she had broken up with. He would have never been so cruel. Now it had gone into a completely new level. She officially had a stalker.
She slowly picked up the pink sweater and fingered the fabric. He couldn’t have gotten it recently. She let it fall onto the bed and stalked back to the kitchen. The images were forever burned into her brain, and she felt like her stomach was going to explode.
She took her food out of the microwave and slammed the door shut. This was so frustrating! She hated not knowing who was watching her. Her whole life depended on predictability and that was the one thing he had taken from her.
She swallowed a bite of her food and snatched the phone from its cradle. She wanted so badly to call her father, but then he would just worry. She couldn’t do that. She set the phone back down and finished her food. What else was there to do?
Thanksgiving morning dawned surprisingly clear. Sam rolled slowly out of bed and flipped on the television. The parade wouldn’t be on for another hour or two, but the white noise helped him to relax and stay relaxed. Thanksgiving was meant to be relaxing and he hoped he didn’t get called into work.
He rubbed his messy hair and headed to the kitchen. He took a step back when he saw Nate standing at the stove in jeans and a thermal shirt. He blinked several times and finally rubbed his eyes to see if he was hallucinating. Nope, he was still there.
Nate turned to face him and laughed. “Morning, partner. Didn’t know I could cook, did you?”
Sam shrugged and sank into a chair. At the moment, he didn't really care if Nate could cook or not. “How’d you get in here?” He really didn’t mind as much as he was curious. Nate had weird quirks, and Sam hoped breaking and entering wasn’t something he did on a regular basis.
Nate reached into his pocket and pulled out a chain. “I have a key.” He jingled it in front of Sam's face.
Sam gave a look that he hoped told Nate to back down. “I see that. Where did you get it?” He was pretty sure he hadn’t ever let his keys out of his sight. And he definitely had never given one to Nate. Sam could never tell what Nate might do to him if he gave him a key.
“You,” Nate answered, shoving the chain back into his pocket and picking up a spatula.
“I never gave you a key.”
“I had a copy made in case there was ever an emergency.”
“Are you sure you were never a criminal?” Sam was pretty sure that Nate could pass as one. For a long period of time, even, if need be.
Nate laughed and dumped some sausage links onto a paper-towel-covered plate. “No. But I taught Quinn everything he knows.”
“That explains so much,” Sam mumbled. His thoughts momentarily turned to Quinn, Nate’s younger brother. They were more alike than even they knew.
“Why are you making me breakfast when we’re going to go eat lunch in a matter of hours?” Sam asked groggily. He rubbed at his eyes and hoped that Nate wasn't an especially cheery morning person.
“Because I was hungry and you weren’t up yet. Besides, it'll stretch your stomach. Make more room for whatever goodies we're eating later.”
Sam mulled that over for a moment and then took a few sausage links from the plate. As he bit into one, his eyes widened.
“This is actually good.”
He hoped Nate hadn’t laced it with something. Knowing his practical-joke-loving friend, there could be anything from hallucinogens to fake blood.
“Well, I try to make things edible, you know? I figure there wouldn’t be much point in making something if you aren’t going to be able to eat it.” Nate shrugged good-naturedly and the twinkle in his eyes told Sam he was being facetious.
After a few moments of silence, Sam finally spoke again. “Have you seen Jewel since she got back?” He sincerely hoped they had worked things out. He couldn't stand to see them mad at each other.
Nate nodded. “Once. We had dinner, but she had to go. She still lives with Cassandra and Brandon and they have her on a curfew.”
“It’s good for her. She’s spent too many years without stability.” Sam knew that, as an orphan, Jewel now relied on the schedules and routines to keep her on track.
Nate looked down. “I’m ready to see her again, though.”
“Who isn’t?” Sam laughed. “Emily hasn’t been able to talk about anything else.”
“That figures.”
Sam stopped mid-chew. “What figures?” he said a little too harshly.
Without even flinching, Nate began, “That Emily wants to see Jewel. And that you’ve been talking to Emily.” He cracked a smirk.
“That’s what I thought.” Sam sat back in his chair and set down the sausage link he was working on. This was beginning to get annoying. He wished Nate would spend more time thinking about Jewel and less time thinking about matchmaking Sam and Emily.
Jewel had just gotten back a few days ago, and she hadn’t been by the office. Sam wished she would stop by and run ideas with them. Sometimes she was the key to opening a new lead, as she saw things differently from her civilian point of view.
“What did I say? Whatever it is, I take it back.” Nate dropped the smirk, held his hands up in surrender and swallowed his food.
“It’s nothing, Nate. I’m just worried about Emily.” Sam said as lightly as he could. He quickly followed the comment with a prayer that Nate wouldn't start teasing him again.
“Who in the office isn’t? She’s just not been herself lately.”
“You can say that again.”
“That again,” Nate said sarcastically. He got up from the table and put the empty plate in the sink. “You should just talk to her. Tell her how you feel. She’ll understand.”
Sam smiled at his partner as he headed to the living room. Maybe she would understand. Maybe she just didn’t realize how head-over-heels in love with her he was. He would tell her…eventually.
Emily fluffed another pillow and turned in a circle, trying to see if she had overlooked anything. She had arrived early to help her dad clean his house and she just felt like she was missing something. The chairs were in perfect condition, the couch was vacuumed, the flowers were perky and fresh, and the tables had been set up. She ran a hand through her hair and closed her eyes momentarily, trying to regain her sanity.
“Sweetheart, it’s near perfection. Don’t worry about every speck of dust in the room. They’re all going to lo
ve it.”
Emily turned and gave a reassured smile. “I just want it to be perfect. This is the first time they’ll meet you and…and,” she almost hated to say it, but she knew she had to, “and I want Sam – everyone – to like this place…and you.”
She watched her father smile knowingly. He took a step forward and planted a kiss on her forehead.
“He will, sweetheart. After all, who doesn’t like me?” He raised an eyebrow and smiled goofily.
Emily burst out laughing and gave her father a big hug. He was right, everyone loved him.
The doorbell rang.
“Oh, that must be them!” Emily said excitedly. She ran to the door, composed herself, and answered it. She shrieked as she saw who it was and quickly gave her a huge hug.
“Miss me much?” Jewel wanted to know.
“Of course! I couldn’t wait for you to get back!” Emily loved Jewel. She was one of the only people she could confide in about anything.
“Are you going to introduce me?” Jewel asked quietly, glancing at Mark.
Emily rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m being so selfish! Jewel, this is dad. Dad, Jewel.” She wrang her hands nervously.
“Wonderful to finally make your acquaintance, young lady.” Mark leaned down and kissed Jewel’s hand.
“I love him,” Jewel said to Emily. “You are so sweet, Mr. Baker.” She threw her best smile up at him.
“I do try,” he laughed. “Please allow me to take your coat.”
Jewel shrugged off the attractive magenta trench coat and handed it to him. She barely had time to turn back to Emily before the doorbell rang again.
Emily tensed as she opened the door.
“Hi, mom.” She had to remind herself to sound cordial. If she didn’t know better, she might think her mother was about to turn tail and run. Her eyes seemed wider than usual and her complexion was anything but bright.
The weary-looking blonde woman didn’t even smile. “Hello, Emily. How are you?”
Emily nodded and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’m good. You?”
She did not want to be having this conversation; she didn’t even want her mom to be there. But here she was, face to face with her mother, reliving her past. Even saying “hello” hurt.
“Fine.” The woman handed Emily her coat and nodded to Jewel. “Hello.”
“Hi,” Jewel said.
Emily gave her a look that said she would explain later. Then she rushed to the back with the coat. Her dad would keep her safe. She stopped at the kitchen door.
“Daddy, mom’s here,” she announced in a rushed whisper.
Mark looked at the clock. “Already? She said she would be late.” He kept stirring a pot on the stove while he checked the clock, then his watch, then the clock again.
“Obviously not. Please back me up here.” Emily knew she was beginning to sound frantic. That was ok. She really was beginning to panic.
Mark nodded and set down his spoon. “The food’s ready. I’ll join you.”
“Thank you so much!” Emily was very relieved. She hated being alone with her mother in the room. She knew her father would always save her from that awkward situation. He understood how she felt about her.
By the time she returned to the living room, Jewel and Fran were both seated. She saw the lost look on Jewel’s face and sat down beside her.
“So, mom, how has your Thanksgiving been?” Emily asked, hoping that this would be a short conversation, but also wishing that the awkward silence could be broken.
“Comparatively good.” Her mother barely bothered to look at her. She kept her eyes trained on a window across the room.
“That’s good. How’s…um…how is…ah…how’s Lester?” She had a very hard time even saying the man’s name. He was the devil reincarnate if you asked her.
Fran's head spun so that she could glare at Emily and her dumb question. “He’s spending his Thanksgiving in prison, how do you think he is?” She said it coldly, nearly lifelessly.
Emily just nodded and fell silent, knowing that Jewel was seeing for the first time how torn apart this family really was. The pain was evident in their conversations and she knew that the love found in Jewel's family was nowhere to be seen in her own.
Slowly, other relatives began to arrive, but Emily’s mood remained melancholy.
EIGHT
Sam pulled Nate’s car into line behind a host of others. At least they weren’t the first or only ones there. That would have been embarrassing.
He kept his eye on Nate as he knocked on the door. Jewel answered it and threw her arms around Nate’s neck.
“I missed you so much!” She said into his shoulder.
“I missed you too,” he answered. He turned slightly and smiled at Sam in a rather dorky way.
Sam smiled back and waited a full minute before he interrupted. “Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?”
Jewel released Nate’s neck and turned to Sam. “No. You’re pâté.”
“Same thing,” He laughed. He folded her into a hug. “Glad you’re back. Nate hasn’t been able to talk about anything else. Maybe now he’ll get some work done.”
Jewel laughed and then glanced quickly behind her. “Just beware of Emily’s mom. Complicated situation, I’ll explain later.” She grabbed Nate’s hand and dragged him into the room, smiling the entire way.
Sam followed them in and was greeted almost warmly by Emily. She seemed relieved that he was there.
“Hi, Sam.” She actually managed to smile congenially at him.
Sam was nearly taken aback at the extension of her friendship toward him. “Hello, Em.” He gave a friendly nod.
“My dad wants to meet you. He’s in the kitchen.” She hesitated, seeming like she wanted to say more.
“What?” Sam asked. He watched her glance around the room and as she gnawed on her lower lip.
“Would you mind terribly introducing yourself? I have to keep the peace between family members in the living room.”
Sam nodded and patted her on the shoulder before walking to the kitchen. He knocked lightly on the door as he stepped in, seeing her dad in a deep conversation. He thought he might know the man he was talking to, but he couldn’t quite place him.
“Am I interrupting something?” Sam asked loudly, hoping that nothing illegal was going on. He doubted that Emily's dad would be one to be mixed up in anything even remotely illegal, so he wasn't too worried about that.
One of the men turned. “No. Who are you?”
He stepped forward and extended his hand. “Sam Kent.”
The man smiled briefly. “Mark Baker, Emily’s father. Glad to finally meet you. She talks about you a lot.”
Sam raised his eyebrows. She never let on that she even paid attention to him. There was a soft interior behind her hard outer shell, after all. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope that she would warm up to him.
“I think you need to hear what I’m about to say,” said the other man. “And, before you ask, I’m Len Peterson. Mark’s best friend and a PI.”
“What is it you were about to say?” Sam asked. He recognized the name, had probably worked with him a couple of times. From the man’s reputation, he was respectable and very trustworthy. If he said he had something important to say, Sam was more than willing to listen.
“Not to spoil anyone’s Thanksgiving, but Emily has a stalker,” Len announced.
Sam winced, but nodded. “I knew there was something going on with her. She promised to call us if she got in over her head.”
Mark snickered. “She won’t.”
“I figured as much,” Sam answered. He had never actually believed that she would call him if she was in trouble. But he had hoped beyond hope that she would. “I’ve been keeping my eye on her.” He hoped that was ok with her father. Maybe he wasn’t the overprotective type, after all.
Mark nodded and smiled. “She needs it. I appreciate it.” He glanced to the door. “We should get in there before the place explode
s.”
The three men made their way to the expansive living room as the doorbell rang one last time.
Jewel pulled the door open and let a thin, dark-haired girl into the room. She couldn't have been taller than five foot one, and there was a serious expression behind her bright eyes.
Sam, who was standing by Emily, listened for her reaction. He wondered who this girl was and why she was here.
“Rosie,” Emily said in a near whisper. She quickly made her way across the room and the two women embraced like life-long friends.
“I didn’t think you were going to make it,” Emily said.
“I didn’t either, but the lead…” she shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” Emily said, not bothering to expound. She pasted a smile on her face and turned to the room. “Most of you know Rosie Callahan. Rosie, the new people are Jewel Hanlin, Nate Wesley, and Sam Kent.” she pointed each one out as she said their name.
Rosie smiled graciously and nodded to each one of them.
“Now that we’re all here, let’s eat!” Mark announced. He was obviously trying to keep people too busy to talk. Sam couldn't exactly blame the guy. The tension in the room was practically palpable.
Sam also noted the relieved look on Rosie’s face, and wondered why, but he knew he wasn’t even close to finding out.
Ten minutes later, everyone had food and was talking to someone or other. Everyone, that is, except Fran. She sat like a statue on the couch, mechanically moving food from her plate to her mouth. She jumped when her phone rang. After a brief conversation, she jumped up and turned to Mark.
“Thank you for the food, but I have to be going.” She spoke hastily.
“Why?” Mark pressed. There a genuine expression of concern on his face.
“Lester escaped from prison. The police want to talk to me.” She grabbed her coat from Emily’s hands. “I’ll talk to you later.” She raced out the door.
Sam watched Emily’s face fall and her shell shatter. With a soft “excuse me”, she sprinted out the back door.
Mark stood to follow her, but Sam was already hot on her heels. He stopped as he came out the door and silently shut it behind him. She stood in the middle of the yard, sobs shaking her body.
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