When life gets complicated, coming home makes you feel safe, or does it…
P
rofessor Caitlyn Lawson finds staying with her husband unbearable so she retreats to her small East Tennessee hometown to rethink her life. Her injured father talks her into managing a large construction project to completion, but she finds someone doesn’t want her to finish.
It could be her arrogant husband trying to scare her into returning home, a man from her past who has vowed vengeance on her family, or a mysterious computer genius.
Cat finds an ally in a local author and comfort in the arms of the local sheriff, her first love. Cat’s return home reawakens the mystery around the disappearance of her best friend from high school. The tension mounts as Cat’s life is threatened and her husband tries every avenue to get her back.
Yet, Cat is determined to stay to finish her father’s project and solve the mystery. She must pick the right people to trust, solve a crime that happened long ago, and choose the right man to love.
Coming
Home
By
Dr. Amy Koresdoski
Acknowledgements
To my husband, Carl, who has always been both supportive and encouraging. You are my best friend and lover.
Copyright © 2013 by Amy E. Koresdoski
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
Cover illustrated by Ramona Lockwood.
This book is a work of fiction, names, characters, places and incidents are the product of an author’s imagination or are use fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Information about Norris is either from the city of Norris website or totally fiction.
Prologue
Knoxville, Tennessee
August
Cat stood with her arms crossed and stared out the large picture window at the trees as they waved back and forth in the hot wind of late summer. The tree line started about 200 yards from the house creating a barrier between the front yard and a white fenced pasture stretching for seven acres beyond. Trees also lined both sides of a long driveway snaking the length of the pasture which ended in immense brick columns and a black wrought iron gate against the road.
In the pasture, two horses grazed on the short bermuda grass. The oak, birch and maple trees stretched high into the air, their emerald leafy boughs creating dark shadows on the ground. The green manicured lawn stretched from the front of the house to the fence line; the bermuda turning a slight yellowish-brown as the summer heat slowed its growth. In the winter time, the lawn would be a carpet of yellow, dormant until the late spring when the grass would once again turn to a lush green.
The front of the 6,000 square foot mansion was framed in pink and red crepe myrtles in full bloom. Their sweet scent mixed with the watermelon smell of the recently cut grass as it wafted on the heavy breeze. The picture window measured 4 by 6 foot and was the major feature of a wood paneled library with walls filled with books and papers. There were no drapes or blinds on the window. They were not necessary so far from the road or neighbors.
An expensive cherry wood desk sat at the base of the window. The desk was startlingly devoid of personal items supporting a small green shaded desk lamp and the latest model laptop; the top of the line Dell capable of accessing servers and the internet from any location due to a cutting edge technology satellite link. A wireless mouse, wireless keyboard, and large flat screen monitor lay unused on the desk but available so the user could work anywhere within the room.
A couple of expensively framed prints of WWII airplanes graced the dark walls each signed by their long dead pilots. Bookshelves filled two walls each crammed with reference books on forensics, law and computer technology. A dark green couch and brown leather recliner with leather footstool sat center room facing a large stone fireplace long dead from disuse over the long spring and summer months. Track lighting highlighted the fireplace and the book cases in diffused soft illumination. Crafts of dark liquids and a full ice bucket was on the buffet in one corner. A short tumbler with ice and liquor remained untouched on the corner of the desk within arm’s reach of the woman.
A small black Pomeranian lounged on the leather footstool snoozing softly. A slight whitening of the dogs muzzle belayed her burgeoning age. Her legs moved slightly and almost silent barks could be seen in her rabbit dreams.
The air conditioning blew a cool breeze across the room in contrast to the heat and humidity outside. The woman sighed and looked longingly at the pasture knowing that she needed to return to her chair and finish working on the half-written grant that beckoned from her computer screen. She was a professor of computer technology at the University of Tennessee trying to develop methods to help investigations in this technologically driven environment; her focus was cyber forensics and criminal profiling.
Having been in the computer technology arena since information was stored on punch cards, Cat had seen cybercrime grow from its infancy. She’d chosen the field long ago before computers were sexy with the intent to use her computer skills to improve the plight of the innocent. Originally, she’d planned to use her skills in the FBI but a college car accident and a shattered knee kept her from being able to meet the FBI’s physical requirements.
Billions of dollars were spent every year on cybercrimes such as child pornography, theft of intellectual property, fraud, and other unlawful activities. The internet provided a level of anonymity and encouraged society’s criminal element to use personal computers as the primary tool for cybercrime.
Similar to traditional medical forensics which used evidence from a crime scene such as a weapon, blood spatter and dead body as evidence, cyber forensics used system access, electronic transmissions and hardware. She’d used electronic evidence; knowing how to look for information that the dishonest used to hide, wipe, disguise, cloak, encrypt and destroy evidence; to develop criminal profiles to identify and locate the bad guys.
Fascinated by the innovative methods of criminals, she joined the competitive game of criminals versus law enforcement. That was years ago. She’d retired in a sense and now, when she wasn’t teaching young minds to join the fight against cybercrime, she consulted for the police in the discovery, analysis, and reconstruction of evidence extracted from computer media and developing a method to electronically build criminal profiles.
Caitlyn’s latest project included a grant from the federal government to develop a new system using computer-altered photography and age progression to identify children who have been missing for several years. She was currently on a summer break from teaching at the University of Tennessee at Knoxville with three months to go before the first day of school in the fall.
The excitement of the impending school year with the freedom of an entire summer filled her thoughts. She sighed again. She was bored with life and unhappy with the looming consequence of middle age dragging her down. Long gone was the excitement and the newness of undiscovered experiences. There were only weak memories of times past and forgotten. Those memories were waning as if they had never happened.
She often wondered how experiences so vivid when experienced were now as dim as a faint thought. Was it true that memories not accessed on a regular basis were lost and those regularly accessed were as new as yesterday’s thoughts? It was unfortunate when some of those that you wanted to remember were not accessed enough and faded but those that you didn’t want to access were there at the edge of your
memory beckoning at all times to be remembered and re-lived.
Turning to her desk she sat once again in the leather chair and pulled the keyboard towards her. She logged on to her computer. As the instant messenger came up she saw that her best friend was also online.
Sherry – Hey Cat, how are you doing tonight?
Caitlyn – Good. What about you?
Sherry – I have been busy setting up a new security network for our company.
Caitlyn – Sounds like a lot of work. How is Mark? Is he back from his sales trips? I understand he is about to retire to be a gentleman farmer.
Sherry – Mark is retiring next month. He will be managing the farm full-time. It’s a relief from him traveling so much.
Caitlyn – How are Storm and her foal?
Sherry – Storm is good. The baby tried to kick me and will be going to the trainers soon. How are your relations? You know what I mean….
Caitlyn – Things are okay right now. I am holding on, but I am restless and discontent. We’re not getting along and I don’t know what to do about it. He needs a wakeup call and we both need some time apart.
Sherry – You can stay at my father’s lake house if you need to. He’s your godfather so you know he cares about you.
Caitlyn – I will think about it. Thank you for your support. You are the best friend I could ever have. Signing off… bye.
Sherry – You let me know what happens. I worry about you girl. Take care… bye.
She looked out the window waiting for her husband to come home. She was waiting for the set of headlights to pierce the night as his sports car roared up the driveway. It was her job when she saw the lights to have his drink cold on the counter and to go out and greet him at his car. It was important for her to have his dinner warm and ready. If it wasn’t – if anything wasn’t perfect she would hear about it later.
She thought for the hundredth time. “How had it come to this? She was an intelligent, successful woman, or so she thought. How had she gotten in so deep that she’d given up her own self-respect and was afraid to speak her mind in her own home? When and where had she lost herself?” she said to herself.
Caitlyn’s husband, Dominic, was the general manager of a GMC dealership. He was all about the job whether he was at work or at home. At any time, day or night he was at the beck and call of the owner, Mr. Edison. Mr., Edison, a huge man, 300+ pounds with an 11EEE shoe, was successful from having married a wealthy woman while he was in the army in Vietnam. He was on standby to deal with the activities associated with the dealership. With her money and his ambition, he had created a string of car dealerships but that hadn’t changed him, a petty, fat man who was too self-centered to care about anyone else.
Dominic was a type A personality, trying to be perfect for a boss who could never admit perfection. It was an impossible experience, to try to be what someone else expected but never being able to be what was expected. It was a serious burden to bear not only for her husband but also for Edison’s own children, two daughters, and wife.
His daughters bore the stigma of having not been born sons and his wife the stigma of having had girls and not boys. How could any one measure up in such a situation?
The stress of Dominic’s job and constant pressure to perform from his boss had driven both Dom and Cat to find solace in different ways and for different reasons. Lately, Dom had turned once again to the bottle, a vice he’d given up years ago. She’d turned inward focusing on her work. The combination resulted in constant arguments, sleepless nights, and in the end an enduring battle between them. They no longer shared and supported, but rather blamed and resented. Trust and joy had been replaced over the years; the anger and frustration turned to silence and bitterness. She was ready for him to love her the way that she wanted to be loved and wanted again to love him; she just didn’t know how. It was frustrating; two smart, successful individuals trapped and overwhelmed by the situation, unable to find a way out.
She looked out the window. In the distance, she heard the approach of his Dodge viper. He pulled into the drive and then into the garage. As she walked out into the garage he was putting down the automatic garage. He got out of the car and grabbed his coat walking past her into the house.
“Hello,” she said as she followed him into the kitchen.
“What a shitty day. I am so sick of working my ass off and seeing others around me getting ahead. I am more talented and smarter than most of the people at that damn dealership,” he spat the words like bullets. “Get out of my way damn dog,” he said shoving the Pom aside and striding into the kitchen.
Caitlyn opened the backdoor and shooed the dog outside. “Come on baby; let’s go out in the yard?” Barking with excitement, Patty ran past the pool and the cabana house to the back yard. Caitlyn walked out and locked the gate behind the dog so she couldn’t come back into the yard and accidentally fall into the pool.
Caitlyn went back inside. Dominic pulled off his coat and tie; his white starched shirt was wrinkled from a long day sitting in an office chair. He stood at the kitchen island of cold black granite and flipped through the day’s mail.
“I am sorry you had a hard day.” She put her arms around him and hugged. He hugged her back.
“Same shit different day,” he snarled and stalked back to the master bedroom changing into to a pair of black shorts and a white t-shirt. He dropped his work clothes on the dresser.
“Get me a coke will you?” He asked as he walked into his home office and pressed the button to turn on his computer.
She brought him a large coke. “You want something to eat?”
“No I ate earlier. I just want to sit here with some fucking peace and quiet away from everyone. That includes you.” She nodded and left as he logged into his latest game.
Thirty minutes later she peered in his room. He was oblivious to her presence. He had on a set of headphone and was chatting online as he and another group of gamers tried to conquer the world.
She made a drink and took it outside next to the pool putting her feet in the water and watched the dog play in the yard with a small stuffed animal. Unbidden tears rolled down her cheek. She felt the oppressive loneliness of not only that night but all of the ones in the past and all of the lonely nights yet to come. As darkness fell she stood and called the little dog back into the house. As she stood in the doorway, she could see a lone coyote out by the pond illuminated by the full moon. He howled; an eerie lonely sound trying to summon his mate. She shook her head and closed the door.
Nestling herself in the couch, she half-heartedly watched an old re-run of Star Trek. The small dog climbed on to her lap. Numb, Cat reminisced remembering her life before she’d met Dominic. Had she made a mistake by marrying him? Her youth had held such promise and hope. It had been the best time in her life. Staring off into space, her mind went back to her college days when she’d met her first love.
Drifting off, she remembered those days… I noticed the two ninja bikes sitting in front of the condo, one red and one blue. They sat still on their kickstands in the small patch of lawn at the foot of three concrete steps which led up to one of four two-story condos linked together to construct building E of the Highland Rim complex. It was small as far as apartment complexes go. There were only eight buildings including the leasing office.
Sherry was my roommate; a gorgeous creature, six foot tall, thin, shoulder length wispy blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes and Arian features. She was Miss University of Tennessee football and modeled for various companies across Knoxville. Not only was she a beauty but brains as well, she was also a Mechanical Engineering major with a 4.0 average. Sherry was outgoing and a social butterfly with multitude of friends at her beck and call. A crowd of hangers-on surrounded her wherever she went; tailgate parties, ball games or bar hopping. Nary a Friday night went by without her having a rich date or a high visibility party.
She came from Hartsville, Tennessee, a town that was so small it boasted a population of 458 people, wh
ere a BP gas station and a Dixie Queen, were its prime methods for weekend entertainment. Teenagers would gather their trucks and cars into pods and flirt until the wee hours of the morning. That was the entertainment part.
I met her parents one weekend when they came to visit. They were country in every sense of the word and couldn’t be considered even mildly attractive from anyone’s point of view. Her parents looked at her as if she were an alien, as if she were their child and they were proud but they were sure that there was no way that she could have come from their union. I had to agree 100%. It was like two cave crickets mating and their offspring turning out to be a monarch butterfly.
She was everything I wasn’t. She was tall, blonde, feminine, beautiful, outgoing, disorganized, unreliable, messy, and social. I was short, red headed, athletic, organized, a loner and an introvert with few social skills. We had in common that we were both smart and cooperative education students at NASA’s Johnson Space Center every other semester. Initially it was expedient that we were roommates since we could share the cost of living in both locations, school and work. Over time, we became close friends, and found that though we had so many differences that we got along for some odd reason.
She was always trying to get me to go out with her friends and become more of a social butterfly. I was willing to sit at the condo and read fiction trash or study every night. I cleaned up behind her, accepted that she forgot to pick me up at the airport and nodded politely as men streamed through the apartment. We balanced one another and she was content to complement our friendship with her outgoing spark versus my serious nature.
I loved her in the sense that she was a friend and had the best intentions for me. I wanted to hate her because she was beautiful, brilliant and successful but couldn’t because she was also caring, honest and sincere. I couldn’t say that I was the same.
Coming Home (Norris Lake Series) Page 1