Closed Doors

by Nancy Radke

  “Are you all right?” he asked, as Ellen ran around the car.

  “Yes,” she said, sitting down on the curb as she gasped for breath. “I think so. Would you believe—he thought I was helping him steal your money?”

  “He did?”

  “Yes. I was so grateful for his help with the computer—“

  “He thought you liked him. I can imagine that.”

  “He came to take me with him.”

  “She tore up the checks!” Larry shouted, sounding betrayed. “Into small pieces.”

  “They were in the back of my car. I never sent them out on Friday.” She stood, shakily. “Shall I call the police?”

  “Someone beat you to it.” Jared pointed to the flashing blue lights on an approaching car. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He held out his hand to her and she moved to him and took it, giving it a squeeze. He smiled, knowing exactly how a knight felt when he rescued his lady. No need to fear pity anymore.

  Ellen gave her statement to the Kirkland police, who took Larry into custody. Jared added his account, and then they were free to leave. As they walked slowly back to her apartment, their hands intertwined, Ellen pointed to a tiny scrap of white paper underfoot. “There’s what’s left of those three checks. Larry hasn’t drawn out the money in those false accounts yet, so you might be able to recover a lot more.”

  “I’ll get our lawyer on it. I’m just thankful you’re safe. When I read your note—”

  “You read it?”

  “Yes. That wasn’t half as hard as following the map to this place.”

  She stopped. Stared at him. “Explain.”

  He laughed, a short, hard bark of a laugh. “I see double. I thought everyone saw like I did. But you don’t, do you?”

  “No.” While searching for reasons for Jared’s problem, she had come across double vision, but had skimmed over it. It was the night before she had begun to work as his office manager and her mind was focused on other things. “You do everything so well, it’s hard to imagine.”

  “When I was a kid, I was considered clumsy; always knocking things over. It took me awhile to learn to how to handle it. I thought everyone else had the secret.”

  “As you grew older, the print got smaller—“

  “And the words danced around on the page. The older I got, the worse it got. The level of frustration became so high, I gave up trying.”

  “Let me try something.” She walked three feet away and turned to face him. “Look at that street light over there.” She pointed to one behind her. “Okay. Hold one hand over your left eye.” She counted silently to five, then said, “Now try the other eye.”

  He switched hands. He was right. The open eye remained focused on the light. The left eye, the one he had covered, had drifted outward to a forty-five degree angle. Once uncovered, it swung slowly towards her until it too was focused.

  He covered his right eye, then took his hand away when she nodded. The right eye did the same thing, drifting to almost a thirty-degree angle while covered.

  “Now stare at it, hard, using both eyes.”

  She could actually see them wavering, pulling away and then returning. No wonder they got tired.

  “You’re right. Your eyes don’t track together,” she said, excitedly, doing a little twirl and clapping her hands together. “That’s all it is. The harder you try to read, the worse you do. The muscles of your eyes are fighting each other.”

  “It’s correctable, right?”

  “I’m sure it would be. Surgery on the muscles.” She shook her head, amazed she hadn’t tumbled onto it. If only she hadn’t been under so much stress, trying to learn a new job.

  “The optometrist my parents took me to never spotted it.”

  “He probably wasn’t looking for it. Some doctors make a more thorough exam than others. Actually, you could read right now, by keeping one eye closed.”

  “That’s how I got here.”

  “Why didn’t you try that sooner?”

  “Nobody else reads with one eye closed; so as a kid, I wasn’t about to. Then it got too late; I was too far behind. But it was the only way I could read the spreadsheets.”

  “Your appointment’s coming up soon.”

  “I’ll be there. You’ll come with me?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  He caught her up in his arms and spun her around. “My miracle worker!”

  “Far from it. I should’ve spotted your problem a long time ago.”

  He hugged her tighter and kissed her until she gasped for breath. “Jared!”

  “Wow!” He looked as ecstatic as she felt. “I have good news,” he said. “Richard agrees that I can head up the boat yard.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “Also I told Angelique about my reading problem. She’s not going to print anything.”

  “She’s not? That’s hard to believe.”

  “I told her about you. She wished me good luck, although she did warn me she still considered me fair game on everything else.”

  “Then Angelique will probably have people thinking I’m your... your....”

  “...my lover?” His voice held the word in a long caressing drawl, as if reluctant to cast it aside. He half-closed his eyes, staring at her from under thick, dark lashes. “And aren’t you?”

  There was no longer any doubt of his genuine feeling for her. He touched her face as if she was of rare porcelain, afraid to break the spell she had woven over him. Their lips met, soft, then harder, enjoying each escalating sensation. She basked in his favor. He had the ability to make her glow, and looking at him, she realized she had done it to him, also.

  “Yes. I guess I am.”

  “Permanently?”

  “What about your other women? Like Bunny.”

  “Bunny? What about her?” He looked puzzled. “Oh, you never met Bunny, did you?” He laughed, a full, delighted sound that thrilled her even as it puzzled her. What was the joke?

  “No.”

  “Bunny is sweet and sexy; a fantastic dresser, artistic, talented, with a wonderful personality. She is also,” he paused a second, then added with a grin, “sixty-six years old.”

  “Oh.”

  “So you’ve no reason to be jealous of her.”

  “How about Sharon? I know she’s not sixty.” As soon as Ellen said the words, she wished she could retract them. She did not want him to feel like he had to give an account to her. A controlling woman. Now that she was aware of it, she could see when she did it.

  “No. She’s not. But I couldn’t get close to her or any woman.”

  “Why not?”

  “They might figure out I couldn’t read. You know that.”

  “Oh, yes. I keep forgetting.”

  He laughed again and hugged her tighter. “That’s one of the things I love about you. How could you forget?”

  “I just do. I guess it’s not important to me.”

  “I wish it was that way with everyone. Will you marry me?”

  She remembered the way she’d felt tonight. Lost and lonely and wanting him above all others. “Yes. I’d better.”

  “And why is that?”

  “I’m not going to let anyone else get you.”

  He cupped her face gently with his fingers. “You’d better not. I’ll call Angelique and tell her she can announce our engagement. That should reward her.”

  Hypnotized by the whisper-soft lightness of his touch and the spell of the night, Ellen offered no resistance as his fingers traced along her jaw line, the slight pressure lifting her lips to his.

  “I thought you didn’t want me,” she whispered.

  “When I thought I’d lost you—that Larry had taken you—well, it made me realize how much I love you. Losing my job was nothing compared to losing you.”

  He caught her tightly to him, the loneliness of a lifetime surging forth in the desperation of his kisses, almost overwhelming her. She felt as if she were surrounded by a huge orchestra, the violins sweeping the m
elody into the heavens, and her and Jared along with it. She rejoiced in the knowledge that Jared wanted her, needed her—for herself, and not for anything she might do for him.

  “Let’s go inside,” she said, trying to catch her breath when they parted for a second.

  “As you wish.”

  Her lights were on, welcoming them, the front door wide open... just like Jared’s life from now on.

  The End

  But not the end of your reading, if you wish to read a short story. There is one included in this book that is part of The Traherns’ Series, called The Prettiest Gal on the Mountain. To find it, flip through to the end or use the menu in this book. There are also a couple of samples from other books.

  Thank you for reading “CLOSED DOORS.” If you enjoyed this book, I would appreciate it if you'd help other readers enjoy it too by recommending it to friends, readers' groups, and discussion boards, or by writing a short review on Amazon. Thank you.

  If you have a child with reading or math problems, I encourage you to go to the web site www.dyslexia.com, or get Ron Davis’ book, The Gift of Dyslexia.

  THE END

  OTHER WORKS BY NANCY RADKE...Sisters of Spirit Series

  Want a clean, funny, sweet romance that introduces the characters in Closed Doors? Grab TURNAGAIN LOVE, #1 Sisters of Spirit Sweet, Contemporary, Humorous. Stranded on a small island, Jennel is happy to see her handsome rescuer, Zack, until she finds out he is taking her job. Affaire de Coeur gave it four stars. Scribes World said "Turnagain Love has some fascinating twists and turns, unexpected complications, and charming scenes."

  Looking for a little mystery sprinkled in with the romance? Investigate STOLEN SECRETS, #3 Sisters of Spirit Romantic Mystery Murder and robbery in a Seattle houseboat community. “An emotional roller coaster with a feel-good ending. Ms. Radke sprinkles in humor when you least expect it.” J. Rogers

  Want more sweet romances, this time with a strong suspense element? Try out COURAGE DARES, #4 Sisters of Spirit Suspense, sweet, contemporary. Mary prays for courage to overcome her tragic past and finds her answer in the dangerous present. “This story really kept me guessing. I never knew what would happen next.” Allison D.

  Want more of the Stolen Secret characters trying to uncover a mystery? Try TENNESSEE TOUCH, #6 Sisters of Spirit Romantic mystery, contemporary. Alison hates football and distrusts men in general. Her brother was seriously injured in the game and the former jocks her mother married were unfaithful. So what makes an NFL quarterback think he has a chance with her? “A ‘Sleepless in Seattle’ type of romance.” K.S.

  All sweet, all contemporary, and this one with mystery and suspense. The Sisters are in danger again. Pick up SPIRIT OF A CHAMPION, #7 Sisters of Spirit Romantic mystery, contemporary. Stormy is a veteran crusader, and when she discovers the danger her brother faces, she flies to the rescue.No one believes her. She gets help from Hugo and her cousin, Perri, whom you met in Songs for Perri.

  SAMPLE: SONGS FOR PERRI

  PROLOGUE

  Tragedy gave no warning.

  Slamming the door on her mother’s new Range Rover, twenty-six year old Perri Linn started to pull on her much-traveled suitcase, then paused to watch the swiftly approaching car.

  Her step-father's home was perched on the edge of the mesa near Phoenix, and was the last house on the road. If the car passed the next driveway...which it did...it must be coming here, to his place.

  Squinting to see better through the heat waves, Perri recognized Walt's silver gray Mercedes. She knew they weren't expecting her yet, so why would he and her mom be coming home in the middle of the day? Could it be an emergency—they were traveling awfully fast?

  They must slow down to turn into the driveway!

  As if in defiance, the car roared on past and smashed into the large rocks set as a barricade on the mesa's edge. Red dust swirled upward towards the hot Arizona sun, cloaking the twisted metal.

  With a noiseless scream, Perri raced down the gravel drive. A woman lay half out of the car on the driver's side, her light golden hair, so like Perri's own, revealing her identity.

  The wreck burst into flames, but Perri ignored the furnace-like heat and half-carried, half-dragged her mother out of danger; then used her hands to snuff out the fire on Crystal's dress.

  Blood. Everywhere. Flowing from Crystal's face and arms and body—mainly her head. Perri yanked off her own blouse to press against the deepest wound. "No...no...no," she whimpered, trying vainly to stop the torrent. Wasn't anyone around to help? She didn’t have her cell phone, she had dropped her purse as she ran.

  "Papa? Was he with you?" she shouted.

  "No. He's...he's still working..."

  Perri sighed in relief. Her step-father was deaf, but that wouldn't have hindered his escape if he wasn’t injured.

  "My pendant." Her mother yanked at the large ivory pendant around her neck as if it were choking her. A favorite piece of jewelry, it had been given to her by a friend working in Africa.

  "Leave it, Mom." Frantic, Perri looked toward the nearby homes. Hadn't anyone heard the crash?

  "Take it," Crystal insisted, in a voice so weak Perri had to concentrate to hear. "Take it to..." She faltered, recovered, tried to speak again; all the time struggling with the pendant's leather thong.

  Her actions pushed Perri's hand away; started the flow of blood again. "Mom, please. Lie still."

  But her mother fought the thong until Perri unscrewed the ivory clasp. With the pendant's removal, Crystal relaxed and let Perri reapply the compress.

  "You go—” Her words were slurred.

  "I can't. You'll bleed—”

  "No. You go. You go... must have it..." Crystal's eyes glazed and she seemed to lose her thoughts.

  "Mom!" Perri shouted, desperate to keep her mother conscious. "Mom, what happened?"

  "Scorpion."

  Perri kept the shirt pressed against her mother's head as she glanced over at the burning wreck. A scorpion in the car? No wonder her mom had crashed. She had an excessive fear of all snakes and bugs and spiders.

  "It's cooked now," Perri assured her, looking back down. Her mother's next words were almost too faint to hear.

  "No. No. Pendant. Take it. Inside..." Giving a small sigh, Crystal dropped into unconsciousness.

  "Mom!"

  The crunch of gravel next to her caused Perri to look up, seeing her parent's nearest neighbor, a nurse, running to them. Crouching down, the woman took Crystal's wrist, feeling for the pulse.

  "She's still with us, Perri. Keep that pressure on." The woman had brought a first-aid kit with her, plus an armful of clean towels. She bandaged as she talked. "My son called 9-1-1, then Walt, while I grabbed these things."

  "Thanks."

  An ambulance pulled up a few minutes later, followed by a fire truck and patrol car. "Anyone else in there?" a fireman shouted, undoing a hose as two medics ran up to Crystal.

  Perri glanced at the flames. "No." Helplessly she stood aside, silently praying for her mother's life. The neighbor placed a towel around Perri's shoulders and she huddled into it, her mind struggling with reality. This couldn't be happening.

  After five minutes one of the medics stood up, shoulders sagging. "She's gone. Anyone here know her?"

  "It's her mother," the neighbor lady answered, putting her arms around Perri. "Crystal Putman."

  Then Walt arrived, his face pale and strained. In silence they clung together, the image of her mother blocking out everything until a voice broke in, insistent in its authority. "Perri. Did you see it happen?"

  She stared at the short gray-haired man. Walt's new boss, Luke Rogers. He must have brought him. "Yes. She didn't even try to stop." She glanced over at the blackened wreckage. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have borrowed her car for my trip."

  “My car,” Walt moaned. “I should have been driving. Not her.”

  "It wasn't anyone's fault," Luke Rogers insisted, touching her step-father's hand so he would lip-read what he was
saying. "I'll have Jordan check the car, Walt. Just in case."

  "Do that."

  "Who's he?" Perri asked, signing the words as she spoke. She always signed when speaking to him.

  "An insurance investigator. He finds things the police miss. Crystal should have slowed down for her own driveway."

  "A scorpion was in the car."

  "A scorpion? You're sure?"

  "Yes. She told me. She’s terrified of them."

  Luke frowned. "You're positive she was talking about an insect."

  "Well...sure." Perri looked at him, puzzled. What other kind was there?

  "We won't bother Jordan then. I'll take care of your latest project, Walt. Don't worry about things at the office." Bending down, Luke Rogers picked up the pendant by its leather thong. "You won't want to lose this," he added, dropping the smooth ivory into Perri's hand.

  She clutched the pendant with both hands. "Mom kept saying she wanted me to have it. She wouldn't let me take care of her until I took it."

  "Injured people tend to focus on one thing," Luke said. "Usually it's an object; sometimes a person."

  His words made Perri remember her step-brother, in the middle of a three-week business trip. "Owen. He needs to know."

  "Right," Walt agreed, then looked straight at his boss. "Ask the company to bring Owen home. He needs to be here."

  "Regardless?"

  "Yes."

  "Alvaro, wasn't it?" Luke Rogers mouthed the words, but Perri could read lips very well, having practiced with her step-father.

  "Yes. Just don't tell Owen why he needs to come home. I wouldn't want him to get careless."

  * * *

  "Is he dead?"

  "No. His wife took the car."

  "I thought you never missed."

  "I don’t, normally. But an accident, like you requested—well, it's not so certain. I’ll set up another."