Regret (Never Waste a Second Chance Book 2)

by Janice M. Whiteaker

  “Carol.” He kept his eyes locked on the side of the house she emerged from, waiting for the mystery man to appear behind her. “You here alone?”

  Her eyes almost imperceptibly widened. He would have missed it if he wasn’t so damn suspicious of everything the woman was doing. “Yes.”

  He cocked his head at her. “Why?”

  She smiled at him, continuing across the driveway toward him. “Why am I here or why am I alone?”

  “Why are you here?” He tried to keep his voice calm, even though he wanted to scream at her, make her tell him why she was here.

  And who was here with her.

  Carol looked over her shoulder at the house. “Nancy told me you and Mina fix up houses and I wanted to come see your handy work.”

  He continued to stare at her. There were few words he had to say to her, even fewer he should say in the presence of a woman. Even one like her.

  Carol cleared her throat and licked her lips. “How are things going?”

  “Fine.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “How are things going for you?”

  She smiled widely. “Wonderful. I’m so happy to be back home and back with my family.” She took a few more steps his way. “And my friends.”

  “Maybe you could show me through your house.” The smile was still on her face as she continued to advance on him, swaying her hips as she walked. Just as her hand was about to land on the front of his shirt, he turned away.

  “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

  ****

  Nancy turned her key in the ancient front lock of the old farmhouse door, twisting it a little to the left before making the full clockwise turn to unlock the deadbolt, just as she had her whole life.

  She walked quietly into the home she’d worked so hard to make her own. It had been days since she’d been here and it was starting to make her feel guilty. Like she was abandoning an old friend.

  It used to be one of her favorite places to be, the house where she grew up, where her own sons grew up. But recently those feelings changed. Maybe it was time to consider moving on. Maybe not just moving on but also moving in. It might be time for this house to be a safe haven for someone else.

  Because Nancy might have found a new home. One that felt like it was made just for her.

  There was something about Paul’s house the minute she stepped inside. It felt warm and loved and happy. She still loved this old house, but that was where the old her thrived, safely wrapped up in her own little world. Alone.

  It was time to add another change to her list.

  Nancy wandered through the front room. The house was filled with so many memories, most of them good. It was the last place she saw her mother and her father.

  And Rich.

  Nancy stopped at the shelf that held her most prized possessions. Pictures of her mother when she was healthy and happy. The faces of two sweet little boys with matching gaps where their front teeth should be, smiled out at her from a homemade frame. Nancy touched the faded paper, still held firmly in place by a pile of cracking glue.

  Next to it was a tiny clay pot, pressed into shape by small fingers to hold her rings while she did dishes. She picked up the small blue painted bowl and tipped it over, gently rubbing the pad of her finger over the initials etched into the bottom in careful block letters. RD.

  Richard Dalton.

  A tear carefully edged its way out of the corner of her eye and slowly made a path down her cheek. She was such a fool. So unwilling to see what was going on around her that her sister could even name her son after his father and Nancy would never make the connection.

  Sam Richards. Richard Dalton.

  That poor little boy never had a chance. Two parents who were out for one thing and one thing only. Themselves. How could a child overcome that?

  He couldn’t. Even with a mother who loved him like her own and a brother who would have gone to the ends of the earth to help him. It wasn’t enough. There was nothing that would have been.

  That would be the hardest part about leaving this house. It was where all the happy memories of the little boy Rich were created. Those days of a sweet little boy, running around the backyard playing with his brother were how she was going to choose to remember him.

  Letting go of everything else would be difficult, but it was time. Time for another fresh start for their family. First Thomas, now her, hopefully soon Beth.

  Nancy stopped midway to the kitchen. Beth.

  She turned slowly, looking around the house as the idea circled her mind, picking up momentum as it went.

  Maybe Beth would want to live here.

  Nancy couldn’t stop smiling as she tossed her dirty clothes into the washer and went upstairs to pack a fresh bag to take with her to Paul’s. Her new home that held her new life and the promise of happiness.

  Nancy set her open bag on the bed and began filling it with enough necessities to last a few days. As she crossed to the closet to grab a few blouses, her toe caught on a box sitting by the dresser. A box that had been sitting in that same spot for months, waiting for her feel ready to open it again.

  It was the same box that brought Rich so much pain. She’d been so afraid it would do the same for her that it sat untouched. Nancy knelt beside it and opened out the flaps.

  There were hundreds of letters from a grown man to a girl who was barely eighteen. A girl who also happened to be his wife’s sister. What had Sam said to make Carol willing to risk everything to be with him?

  Or was it the other way around?

  This box might hold the answers she had no luck getting out of her sister, even all these years later.

  Nancy picked up one of the envelopes. It was yellow and crisp around the edges from sitting quietly in the attic for the past few decades. Carol’s name and the address of the farmhouse were scrawled across the front in Sam’s handwriting.

  She slipped the letter free and unfolded it before she could change her mind. It was time to stop avoiding what happened. It wouldn’t change anything. But it could at least let her know the truth about her own life. Nancy scanned the single paper.

  Sam spent the entire page confessing his undying adoration to his teenage lover. Begging her to keep seeing him. He would do what she wanted. He would do anything to be with her.

  Nancy tossed it on the floor and grabbed another. More of the same. Undying love. He would do what she asked of him as long as she swore to be with him. Blah, blah, blah.

  Nancy rolled her eyes. How did she not see what a schmuck Sam was? Here was a grown man who sounded like a lovesick kid, begging to have his love returned. It was ridiculous.

  Nancy thumbed through and scanned a handful more before she couldn’t stand it any longer. From the letters it seemed as if Carol tried to break things off and he was devastated, chasing after her like a lost puppy. It was nauseating.

  Nancy stood up and started to pile the letters on the floor back into the box when something caught her eye. It was another envelope addressed to her sister in Sam’s handwriting. It looked exactly like the others. Except for one thing. It was mailed from California.

  Three months after Sam died.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Nancy sped down the road, her hands gripping the wheel, her mind racing. There was no way.

  No freaking way.

  Was this even possible? There was a headstone for Christ’s sake. A grave. She’d been there many times in her weaker moments to spit on it. That meant he had to be dead. Yup. Died in a fiery single car crash.

  So fiery, there was nothing left.

  Shit.

  Nancy wiped one hand down her face as the reality of what might have actually happened started to really sink in. In his letters, Sam said ‘I’ll do what you want’. Surely it wasn’t what she was thinking it was.

  What kind of man would fake his death to leave behind a wife and two kids?

  The answer only helped bolster her suspicions.

  The same kind of man who would cheat on his wife with
her sister.

  Nancy squeezed the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. If Sam wasn’t really dead, he would be soon. Lucky for him that would mean he and Carol could be together forever, just like he wanted.

  Because Nancy was going to kill her next. If she could ever find her.

  She’d been looking for an hour. Carol wasn’t at the hotel where she was supposedly staying and Nancy hadn’t seen her car as she did a sweep through downtown. Now the sun was going down, making it significantly more difficult to identify who was driving any small white car that passed her on the road.

  She was on her way back home to get those fucking letters and go back to Paul’s. If there was anyone who could help her right now it was him. Even if all he did was help her regain sanity just enough to be less intent on committing a murderous rampage.

  Nancy crested the little hill just before her house. The blinding light from a pair of headlights still on bright filled the car interior. She squinted against the glare, but it still penetrated enough to cause flashing blind spots big enough she almost couldn’t tell it was Carol passing her.

  Had she been at the farmhouse? Nancy laughed.

  The bitch was probably coming over to see what else Nancy had that she wanted. So far at least she hadn’t gotten anything worthwhile. Especially if she was still the proud owner of Sam Richards.

  If he was the man in the parking lot with Carol the other day, maybe he was enjoying a fate far worse than death. The thought brought Nancy no small amount of joy. Imagining Sam following her sister around like a puppy dog as she berated him. Hell, she didn’t have to imagine it. She might have seen it with her own eyes.

  Nancy could feel the heat burning her cheeks as anger, or maybe rage was more like it, took over. In her whole life she’d never felt like this. Out of control. A little crazy.

  And giddy.

  She couldn’t wait to see their faces when she found them. The jig was up and it was time to pay the piper.

  Carol was going to have to answer every question Nancy had whether it was at her hotel room or the place where they grew up. Then she was leaving and Nancy didn’t care if it was back where she came from or off to jail. As long as she was out of Nancy’s life and away from everyone she loved. This was ending now. All of it.

  Nancy pressed on the gas, clearing the short distance left to her house in seconds, her blood pumping in her ears, the anger building at an exponential rate egging her on.

  The farmhouse came into view. Nancy spun her car into the driveway and threw the little four-door in reverse, missing the gear in her haste. She couldn’t move fast enough and it was causing her to be careless. Nancy leaned back against the seat’s headrest, taking a slow breath. Now was not the time to lose her mind. Now was her chance to even up the universe and she owed it to herself and Rich to do it right.

  It was time to hunt down the woman who ruined their lives. And ruin hers back.

  As Nancy’s foot hit the gas to back out, a shadowy figure darted away from the backside of the farmhouse and into the darkness of the fields surrounding it.

  Two red lights flickering down the long lane in the distance on her left snagged her attention. It was an access road, more of a path really, that Thomas, and her dad before him, used to get the tractors around the fields. And for some reason, now Carol, in her small white hatchback.

  What in the hell was going on and who the fuck was in her house?

  Nancy sat for a minute and tried to decide what to do. Carol and whoever was with her were up to something and from what she suspected they’d done all those years ago, the two of them were capable of very bad things.

  And it appeared she might be their target.

  Shutting off her headlights, Nancy slowly backed out of the driveway, keeping her eyes peeled for any more suspicious figures loitering on her property as she drove back the way she’d come, making it to the spot Carol turned off the road in less than a minute. It was time to find out the truth about both her past and the present, and chances were she would find it down that drive.

  With the fields still empty from the fall, there was no way she could follow Carol in her car without being seen and heard so Nancy pulled off the dark, isolated road, parking her car in the field, hoping she was as much out of their sight as they were out of hers.

  She switched off her interior lights before opening the door and stepping out into the darkness, the soles of her lace up work boots sinking into the well-worked soil.

  The field was barely visible, lit only by the dim rays coming from a crescent moon. The almost complete darkness would work in her favor, making it easy to cross the field without being seen as long as she was quiet and stayed low.

  Nancy carefully shut her door, pushing gently with her hip until the latch clicked, holding it closed. She started the long walk back to where Carol’s car disappeared from sight. She was halfway across the large field before her sister’s car came into view. The little hatchback was still lit up, parked between the front field and the back field, tucked into a grove of pine trees.

  It was awfully arrogant to be sitting in a place you shouldn’t be, doing things you should not, in a car that was shining like a beacon. It took one hell of an ego to do something like that.

  Or two hells of egos.

  The lights of the car suddenly shut off. Nancy moved a little slower, listening to the sound of her own footsteps across the soft dirt while still keeping an ear out for whoever was in that car and whoever was at her house.

  She cut a wide path to the left, hoping the trees would provide a little cover. Just as she reached the far end of the tree line, a car door shut. Loud enough it would seem the person closing it thought they were alone in this field.

  They were wrong.

  “Did you get them?” Carol’s voice was sharp, cutting through the silence with its hard edge.

  “They were all over the place.” The man’s voice was older and rougher, but still unmistakable. It was a voice Nancy would have never guessed to hear again. Not even in her wildest dreams. Or nightmares.

  It was the voice of a dead man.

  Nancy moved closer. She needed to see him. See his face.

  Carol was barely visible in the moonlight walking away from the car toward Sam as he finished the trek across the field to her car, holding something.

  Nancy crept through the trees, moving quickly from one to the next and squatting down behind the trunks as she tried to gain a better view of the scene unfolding before her.

  By the time Carol yanked the item from his arms Nancy was close enough to see his face, half of it black and blue, along with exactly what her sister was so interested in. It was the box of letters.

  “I don’t understand how you could forget them before.” She walked to the car and opened the trunk, shoving the box in. “I gave you a list for Christ’s sake.”

  Sam’s eyes shifted around as he followed her to the back of the car. “Didn’t you hear me? I said they were all over.” He leaned in close. “She read them.”

  Carol’s eyes narrowed as she glared at him. “What do you mean, she read them?” Carol shook her head. “No. She said Rich is the one who read them.”

  Sam took a step back. “They were in her room, in a pile on the floor. Some of the letters weren’t even in the envelopes anymore.”

  Carol yanked the trunk back open, the light illuminating her actions as she flipped open the box and began pulling out the loose letters. The letters Nancy sat on her bedroom floor reading less than two hours ago.

  “Goddamnit Sam.” Carol shoved the papers back in the box and slammed the trunk for the second time. “You are such a fucking waste of my time.” She gave him a hard shove. “I should have left you to rot when your daddy’s money ran out.”

  Carol walked back to the driver’s side of the car with Sam on her heels. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. You can fix this baby. You can fix anything remember?”

  He was like a kicked dog. Still coming back for more lov
e. Begging her sister’s forgiveness just like in the letters. Nancy felt sick to her stomach.

  All these years she thought it was Sam.

  Carol opened the door and reached in. “For once you’re right. I can fix anything.” She reached into the console area and stood back up her arm outstretched, the barrel of a revolver pointed squarely at Sam’s face.

  Sam’s eyes went wide as the color drained from the uninjured side of his face. He slowly raised his hands. “What are you doing?” He started walking backward as Carol began to advance on him. “I’m sorry baby. I didn’t mean to forget them.”

  Carol continued to follow him, holding up the very familiar looking pistol. “You never mean to do anything. You didn’t mean to forget the letters. You didn’t mean to marry Nancy. You didn’t mean to get her pregnant. You didn’t mean to screw up the crash.”

  “But that was okay. You fixed it baby. Just like you fix everything. You’ll fix this too.” Sam was moving faster now, his voice becoming more desperate as his eyes flashed around in the dim light from the car’s overhead light, still activated by the door Carol left open.

  “What do you think I’m doing now? I’m fixing it.” Carol straightened her arm, focusing her aim.

  Sam was at the edge of a wet weather creek bed that cut through the farm. He glanced behind him as he teetered on the edge. “We’ll get the money. She’s stupid. You’ll get her to believe you and then we’ll be in.”

  Nancy stood up and walked to the car. Carol was about to be very pissed and she wanted to watch every second of it, front and center.

  “No. I’ll get the money. I’ll be in. You’ll be gone. For real this time.”

  Carol cocked her head to one side. “Bye, bye Sam.”

  Nancy could hear the smile in her sister’s voice and it sent chills down her spine. Never in her wildest dreams would she have ever guessed her sister was a psychopath. A bitch, yes. Selfish, yes. Even a sociopath, but never like this. Carol was a monster and Nancy was glad her father wasn’t here to witness just how depraved his youngest daughter was. It would have broken his heart.

  Nancy heard the gun in Carol’s hand make a clicking sound. Then another. Then three more in quick succession.