Through The Window

by Wendy Campbell

  Mel stared at the key.

  “I trust you, Melanie.” He put the key in her hand, and closed her fingers around it. “Sometimes my brother needs a kick in the ass to get his head on straight.”

  ****

  Mel lay in bed, trying to find the energy to get up. She hadn’t been able to summon the nerve to go in Jordan’s house last night. She still couldn’t believe Roger gave her a key. The rumble of a diesel truck had her jumping out of bed and running to the door, visions of Jordan swimming through her head.

  Yvonne stood on the other side, in flip-flops and jeans.

  “Go away.” Mel tried to close the door, but Yvonne slipped inside and headed for the kitchen.

  “Do you have any iced tea?”

  Mel didn’t answer as she followed Yvonne to the kitchen. Her sister poured tea into two glasses and held one out. Mel took it, wondering briefly if Yvonne poisoned it. Not likely, since she’d watched the entire time, but she just twirled it around in the glass anyway.

  After a long minute of silence, Yvonne said, “I’ve always hated you.”

  “Gee. That’s a surprise.”

  “I had a long talk with Sara this morning. Did you know they found Dad—Mick’s—car? Sara told me. They found some things to start a fire in the trunk. I’m not sure exactly what. She was pretty shaken up, so she wasn’t clear on the details.” Yvonne sipped and was silent so long Mel thought she might be done.

  “Do you know why I hated you?” Yvonne asked, finally turning to look at her.

  “Because I got a bigger scoop of ice cream?”

  Yvonne smiled. “I wasn’t sure myself, not until this morning.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Mel said, scooting onto the counter. “I’m leaving tonight. You won’t have to worry about me anymore.”

  “I’m not worried about you. You’ve always been able to stand up to anything I could dish out. No matter how hard I tried to squash you, you always popped back up.”

  “Why? You never had anything to fear from me. You got the looks, and the dates.”

  “But you got Daddy,” Yvonne whispered.

  Mel nearly fell off the counter.

  “No matter how hard I tried, he barely looked at me. Whenever he came by, he always took you with him. Just you. Never me. Not even when I begged. You were his little girl.”

  “Are you serious? The man forced me to break into houses. Do you get that?”

  “I thought you two were having fun, and doing all those things I wanted to do.”

  “You wouldn’t have wanted to go,” she said softly. “It was hell.” No matter how much animosity was between them, she wouldn’t have wished that on anyone.

  “You never said what you did.” Yvonne shrugged.

  “Would you have believed me?”

  “Probably not, but I made assumptions based on your silence. I’m sorry.”

  “Wow. I’ve never heard that before.”

  Yvonne gave her a surprisingly impish smile. “That’s because I’ve never said it. I was too busy trying to squash you.” Then her face turned serious. “There were other reasons for the things I did, normal sister things, but it started before that. With Da—with Mick. If I’d known the truth, maybe things would have been different.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’m going to stay for a while, help Sara get back on her feet. She’s a wreck, especially now that Mick’s the prime suspect in the arson case.” Yvonne gave her an indecipherable look. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Jordan.”

  Just the mention of his name made Mel’s heart ache, but she hid it with a smile. “Now I can start over with a clean slate.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Oregon, I think.”

  “Does Schuster have a branch there?”

  “Yes, but I quit. I’m toying with the idea of opening my own business.” She would need something big and time consuming to keep her thoughts off Jordan.

  “If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

  Mel stared at her sister. This was so…unreal. Yvonne stood in her kitchen, apologized, and offered to help. Mel slid off the counter and poked Yvonne’s arm. At her sister’s confused look, Mel said, “I’m just making sure this isn’t a dream.”

  Together, they laughed.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “It’s time to go,” Mel told her family. The sun had set on her last day in Cedar Valley. She managed the goodbyes, and kept the tears at bay, until she got to Carley. Mel wrapped her arms around the girl.

  “Sorry I messed up your birthday party.”

  “That’s okay. I had more fun with just the girls. If I really saw the boys eat bugs, I’d probably hurl.”

  Mel laughed. “If I ever have a girl, I want her to be just like you.”

  Carley smiled through her tears. “Auntie Mel, why don’t you stay? You could sleep in my room. You can even have the bed.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, but for now I need to go.” She didn’t have the heart to tell Carley she wouldn’t be back.

  “Where?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ll call you when I get settled so you can visit.”

  “You should move to Maui.” It was said with all the confidence of a thirteen-year-old.

  “Why?”

  “Mom took me there once. The sun always shines and that makes everyone happy.”

  Carley had a point, Mel thought, as she drove through downtown. She pictured herself lounging in the sand, an exotic drink in one hand, a good book in the other. The fact she’d be alone made it too sad to contemplate.

  As she drove slowly past Jordan’s house, the living room windows were illuminated with a soft light from the lamp she knew was on a timer. He hadn’t even come back to say goodbye.

  It must have taken a miracle for Detective Radcliff and Roger to keep Carley’s role from the public, but they’d managed it. If Jordan read the letter, shared the contents before Roger spoke to him, Carley’s life could still turn into a nightmare. She thought of the baseball hat and the key.

  No cars went by as she drove down Maxwell Road. She could let herself in, get her hat and the letter, and be out in a few minutes. Hell, she even had permission from Roger, so why did she feel so uneasy?

  Probably because Roger was out of town. If she got caught, he wouldn’t be here to bail her out.

  She had to do it. As she parked in Jordan’s driveway, she noted the absence of his truck. Slowly, she headed for the front door. Dread pulled at her feet, and made her feel like she was walking through deep mud. She could do this.

  Fueled by the thoughts of what could happen to Carley, she tried the key. It wouldn’t go in the lock.

  It must be for the back door. As she started around the house, she wished she had a flashlight. Her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark, and her foot caught, nearly tripping her. After that, she tested each step until she ran face first into a spider web.

  A little scream escaped. She bit her lip and scrubbed at her face until every strand was off. Forcing her body to relax, she took a step and ran into another one. The sticky strands stuck to her cheeks and she whirled. More clung on the back of her neck. Panic wrapped around her like a net. She swatted at the strands. They were like thread. They couldn’t trap her. It was stupid to be afraid of thread…

  SHIT! WHERE WAS THE SPIDER?

  Her skin crawled. She envisioned the hairy little body creeping under her collar, wriggling into her hair, her ear. She swatted at her head, rubbed her body, but she could still feel creepy, little legs in a hundred different places. Knowing it was irrational, she sprinted around the house, running into more webs. When she reached the backyard, she forced herself to stop and shake out her hair. Finally convinced she’d escaped without a hitchhiker, she took a moment to catch her breath before trying the key in the back door.

  It didn’t fit.

  Roger must have given her the wrong key, but he’d said to go in. She couldn’t just give up. She tested the windows on the ba
ck of the house. They were locked, but the bathroom window was ajar. Why was it always bathrooms, she wondered as she pulled herself up. In less than a minute, she was inside.

  As she walked through the dark house, a flood of memories washed over her, but she forced them back. She didn’t have the energy for more heartache. The hat would be upstairs, the letter on the kitchen counter.

  The door to his bedroom squeaked when she opened it. She automatically went into a crouch, then told herself to get a grip. This wasn’t a B&E. Roger had given her permission and a key. Pretending a confidence she didn’t feel, she turned on the light.

  The stuffed dog was gone, along with her hat.

  Refusing to give up, she decided to get the letter and then search for the hat. She made her way to the kitchen, only to find a cleared countertop. No mail, no letter, no red hat. Dread trickled through her. Roger said he put the mail on the counter. Had Jordan come home and left again, without giving her a chance to explain?

  The idea infuriated her. Two could play that game. She wasn’t going to leave until she had the hat and letter. And she’d turn his house inside out to find them.

  She searched the kitchen, found nothing, and headed for his office. When she turned the light on she saw the same cluttered mess she’d seen before. And there, next to the monitor on his desk, sat the stuffed dog, wearing her hat. Beside it, a stack of envelopes.

  Too easy, her instincts screamed, but she ignored them and crossed the room. She put the hat on and flipped through the pile, finding bills, a few generic mailers and a big envelope from his parents. Where was her letter?

  As she stepped back, she saw a box wrapped with red paper and white ribbon on the other side of the monitor. A silver shimmer caught her eye.

  With a fingertip, she turned the silver tag. Her name was written on it. Jordan must have picked up a trinket before her arrest. She should leave without even looking at it, but her fingers moved on their own and lifted the lid.

  A small, black velvet box sat nestled inside a pile of tissue paper. An engagement ring? No, he’d made it clear he didn’t love her. Knowing she would likely regret it for the rest of her life, she opened the ring box.

  It was empty.

  ****

  Jordan watched Mel from the doorway. Yesterday, Roger told him about the setup, about the man she thought she’d killed. The details eased the sting of betrayal, but not of her lack of trust. If she’d told him, he would have helped her. He’d have been furious, but he would have helped, and saved them both a lot of heartache.

  He read her letter. By now, nothing about Mel should surprise him, but that letter had. She’d kept quiet, even after the arson. Then she’d gone to Roger for help. He could follow the logic, but God, it really pissed him off that she’d turned to Roger. And he missed her, more than he thought possible. That’s when he finally admitted he’d fallen in love, and fallen hard. He no longer wondered why it had to be her. It just did.

  Jordan called in favors and traded shifts until he managed to get the week off. He’d done some heavy thinking, then gone into Seattle and bought a ring. Still, he wasn’t sure if he would give it to her. Or if she’d even want it.

  A few hours ago, his plan made sense. Give her an instant, even just one second, to image what could be. He could build on that, help the dream grow into a reality. Now, as she stared into the empty box, with the red baseball hat he’d given her when they were kids on her head, he knew it was time for the next step.

  ****

  “Melanie.”

  She swung around at the sound of Jordan’s voice. He leaned against the doorframe, the man who filled her heart and head with impossible dreams. Reality hit hard. There stood the homeowner of the house she’d just broken into. And Roger was out of town. He’d never believe she had permission. Old panic took control.

  “Oh, shit. You’re... I…” The words tumbling out of her mouth made no sense. Jordan didn’t move. What if he called the cops? No one knew Roger had given her the key, and it didn’t even work. She’d really broken in. Jordan could use that against her.

  “Jordan, I...I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry. There was something...”

  “This?” He held up the big, blue envelope. The ragged top was proof he’d opened it.

  She let out a slow breath. “I didn’t want you to read it, and I thought you were out of town.”

  “I was.”

  Trying to look casual, she stepped toward him and held out her hand. “Can I have it back?”

  “Sure.” He shrugged.

  Her heart suffered another bruise at his nonchalance. Covering the hurt with temper, she snatched the envelope. It crumpled in her fist, and she was already through the office door when she realized the envelope was empty.

  Every injustice, every tendril of anger she’d forced down since her return to the Valley, exploded. How dare he treat her this way? She stormed back in, grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt and stood on her tiptoes.

  She spoke between clenched teeth. “You can play your mind games on someone else because I’m through with you.” She let go of his shirt and pushed hard, but he didn’t budge so she stomped away. “I’ve made mistakes. I’ll be the first to admit it, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like this.” Snatching the empty black box from the desk, she hurled it.

  His hand shot out and caught it. He didn’t even blink. That infuriated her even more.

  “I let my guard down once,” she said, her voice shaking with fury, “and you came blazing through. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to actually fall in love with you. Men are conniving, manipulative asses, and you’re no exception. You tried to talk me into spilling every secret I had, and when I refused, you called it quits. What about your secrets, Jordan? What did you do those first five years out of high school?” Knowing he wouldn’t answer, she headed for the door, but he was quicker, and she crashed into his hard chest.

  “Get out of my way.” She shoved, but he didn’t budge. When he grabbed her wrists she backed away, but he pulled her against his chest.

  “You love me?” The raw emotion in his whisper made her head spin. Hating the little part of her heart that melted with the heat of his breath on her face, she jerked her head back and looked him straight in the eye.

  “Past tense,” she snarled.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Too bad.” She struggled until he let her go.

  “I won’t apologize for interrogating you about the fire. You were withholding information.” He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms, effectively cutting off her escape.

  “I never asked for an apology.” Would he call the cops? She didn’t intend to wait around to find out. Pretending nonchalance, she wandered to the window. The screen would fall out when she jumped through it, but she still had to lift the blinds and unlock it.

  “You know what your problem is, Jordan Stone? You’re self-centered.” With a dramatic flair, she pulled the string and the blinds shot up. She gestured toward the window. “You know what’s out there? A few thousand people who are completely enamored by you because of the uniform you wear and the fire engine you drive. You’ve fooled them all, haven’t you? You play the hero who puts his life on the line for others, and you know what?” She lowered her voice and picked up a stapler. “I fell for it, too.”

  She spun and threw the stapler. Without waiting to see if it hit, she unlatched the window, banged it open and dove through the screen.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Jordan grabbed her shins. Melanie hung, half in and half out, her belly draped over the windowsill. He could hear her sucking in air, and she gave a vicious pull. She must have gotten her fingers on a lip of siding to use as leverage, but he’d be damned if he’d let her get away. Bracing his feet against the wall, he let go of one of her legs to grab the waistband of her pants. At that instant, she heaved herself forward and made it out a few more inches.

  The damn fool would land on her head if he let
go. He grabbed her waist with both hands and pulled. She kicked him in the thigh, but he didn’t let go. Suddenly, she gave way, and they flew backward into the room. Before she could move, he pinned her to the floor by the simple method of sitting on her. With his knees on either side of her, he held her arms to the floor.

  “Get off me.” She squirmed and tried to buck him off, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Finally, she stopped and met his gaze.

  “Are you ready to listen?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

  “Let me go,” she snapped.

  He leaned forward, so his face was just inches from hers. A drop of blood from the flying stapler trickled down his cheek, but he ignored it. “I needed some time to get my head together. That’s why I left.”

  “I don’t care. I just want my hat.”

  “You’ve had your say. Now it’s my turn.”

  She hummed a tuneless nothing and turned her head away.

  “I’m not letting you up until you hear me out.”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “You want to talk?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “You don’t share personal information. Isn’t that what you told me? I should spill my secrets, but your life is off limits.” She brought her knee up hard, but he leaned forward so she barely grazed his back.

  “Dammit,” she shouted, “let me go.”

  “No.” Holding her down was only making her angry, but maybe temper would burn away some of the hurt he’d read in her letter, the hurt he could see deep in her eyes. Praying he was doing the right thing, he filled his expression with as much loathing as he could.

  “I backed off once,” he said in a vicious whisper, “and you let an arsonist loose on Cedar Valley, let him threaten lives and use your own niece. All because you didn’t have the guts to stand up to your old man.”

  She jerked, as if each word stabbed her like a knife. Something deep and wounded shone in her eyes before she jerked her gaze away.

  “You’re wrong,” she shouted, but it was muffled by a sob. “I tried to stop him.” Another sob. “I had to keep him from Carley.” With a surge of energy, she writhed, pulled, kicked, and hit. She got her right arm free and hit him square on the jaw. Even as his head rocked back, he managed to slam her arm to the floor.