Two Roads Home

by Raney, Deborah;

  She looked embarrassed and started to say something.

  Jesse stepped in to explain. “It’s indirectly because of this whole thing with her . . . Michaela. I felt I needed to leave the company. I’ve been wanting to go back to school. So that’s why we’re selling.”

  Lt. Harrald looked at Corinne as if waiting for her to confirm. “Yes. It’s indirectly because of her. It makes it hard . . . this all happening at once.”

  “I’m sure that’s true. Well, you might want to let the Realtor know what’s going on. In case she tries to get in the house under the guise of being an interested buyer.”

  Corinne gave a little gasp.

  “Is it possible that’s already happened?” Lt. Harrald asked.

  “I don’t think so. The offer came from the first people who looked at the house—the only people—and it’s a family.”

  “That’s good. So it will be going off the market?”

  “Once we’ve accepted the offer,” Jesse said.

  “It might be a good idea to show the Realtor Ms. Creeve’s photo.”

  He nodded, adding that to his ever-growing to-do list.

  “And as much as you’d like to avoid it,” the officer continued, “you should probably warn your daughters about this woman as well. And keep your phone close at hand any time you’re out.”

  Corinne looked hopeful. “To take photos? Would that qualify as the proof we need?”

  The officer smiled. “Well, yes, possibly. What I meant was to have your phone ready in case you needed to call the police. And certainly do call us again if anything further happens, or if you think of anything you forgot to tell me.” He reached in his pocket and withdrew a business card. “My direct number is here. Meanwhile, we can still file the affidavit, and at the very least, the judge would order a hearing to determine if a full order of protection is warranted.”

  “Would we have to go to court if we did that?” Jesse asked.

  “They wouldn’t make Sadie testify, would they?” Corinne’s forehead seemed to have developed a permanent crease.

  “At that hearing, you would be allowed to state your case fully for the judge. And the respondent—Ms. Creeve—would also be given an opportunity to present her side. Her defense. I don’t know about your daughter. That would be up to the judge. You’d want to involve your attorney if it came to that.”

  They didn’t have an attorney. Preston-Brilon retained an attorney, but since Michaela was employed there, too, it would surely create a conflict of interest for either of them to use the company’s lawyer. Besides, except for the fact that Jesse had met Michaela at Preston-Brilon, and Michaela had filed the initial complaint against him after a business trip, this no longer had anything to do with the company or Jesse and Michaela’s working relationship. It was personal now. “So there’s really nothing else we can do?”

  “Not unless you can think of something that would actually serve as evidence of her stalking.”

  And that was exactly the problem. Michaela Creeve had denied everything, had seemingly calculated ways to not leave any trails. And that fact, more than anything, made Jesse’s blood run cold.

  23

  Wednesday morning, Corinne decided not to take the girls to swimming lessons. She and Jesse had wiggled out of Tuesday night family dinner last night—for the second time in six weeks. And Dad would be keeping track. She’d dreaded making that call, knowing they’d have to explain why eventually. She was already feeling like a prisoner in her own home, and it didn’t help that Jesse hadn’t argued with her when she told him she was staying home. Thankfully, the girls didn’t ask about swimming, but they’d probably remember when nap time rolled around.

  Sari and Sadie were playing in the sandbox with Simone, oblivious to the drama that was being played out on their account. She would give anything to keep them innocent, to not ever have to explain this whole pathetic ordeal to them. But she supposed they’d eventually have to say something—even if it was years from now.

  It was easy to keep these things from Jesse’s mother. But they’d decided they wouldn’t tell Corinne’s parents about the new developments just yet. Especially about talking to the police officer yesterday. Of course, they’d have to spill all the first time they left the girls with Mom and Dad. Although Corinne wasn’t sure she could ever leave the girls out of her sight again. She was just glad school was out and she didn’t have to worry about someone snatching Sari out of her classroom.

  Maybe it was a good thing they were moving. Maybe they should be looking for houses out of state.

  But their lives were already in chaos with Jesse planning to quit his job, the house on the market, and the prospective buyers due to come back and look at the house a second time this afternoon. She might be sorry later, but she found herself praying that the buyers would change their minds. Or at least that by some miracle they wouldn’t want to take possession for a few months.

  She listened again for the girls in the yard, then went to look out the window, not quite trusting even the new locks Jesse had put on the gates. They still hadn’t talked to the girls about Michaela, other than a generic “you don’t go with strangers no matter how nice they seem” conversation. For now, they’d opted to keep the girls with them at all times and be ever watchful for anything remotely suspicious. It broke her heart watching her daughters play together, while pondering how early in life children had to lose their innocence just to stay safe—thanks to people like Michaela Creeve.

  The doorbell interrupted her thoughts, even while it illustrated them. Adrenaline shot through her veins, and she hurried to peer out the peephole, wishing they’d sprung for the security camera the architect had wanted them to install.

  Relief went through her, seeing her sister standing there. She unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door. “Danae. Hi. Come in.”

  She couldn’t quite read Danae’s expression, but her sister rarely stopped by without a reason. “Are you off today?”

  “No, just going in later this morning.” Danae worked part-time for an accountant. “How are you doing?”

  It was clear by her tone and expression that she wasn’t asking lightly. And even though Corinne was sick of the subject, it suddenly sounded good to have someone to talk things over with. “We’re hanging in there. I feel like I’m in limbo. Not just the whole mess with the Wicked Witch of the West, but everything’s kind of hitting at once. Jesse’s job, selling the house—”

  “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Oh?” She closed and locked the door behind Danae. “Come on in. There’s still some coffee.” She led the way to the kitchen.

  She poured coffee for Danae and herself, and took a chair at the kitchen table where she could see the girls in the yard without getting up.

  Danae sat down across from her, seeming far too intent on the coffee in her mug.

  She looked at her sister expectantly. “So, what’s up?”

  Danae took a deep breath. But she was smiling, so it couldn’t be too bad. “I don’t know how you’ll feel about this, but it might actually solve a problem for you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Dallas and I are thinking about buying your house.”

  “Our house?”

  “You know I’ve always loved it. Dallas too. I don’t know what the current buyers’ offer is, but we could pay your asking price. If the other offer isn’t too much over that, we’d like to buy it. And we’d be willing to let you guys stay here for a couple of months . . . That’s what I meant about it solving a problem for you.”

  “Wow.” She was truly stunned. She hadn’t even known Dallas and Danae were in the market for a house. They’d always said they’d wait until— “Wait a minute— Danae! You’re not pregnant, are you?”

  “No.” The heavy sigh her sister breathed told the truth. “I wish that was the reason. We really didn’t plan to look until we had a baby on the way, but when your house came up for sale, we just couldn’t
quit thinking about it. It’ll be a little bit of a stretch and we might have to dip into our baby savings, but we decided to go for it. At least that way when we do get pregnant, the house part will be out of the way. And I love the way you have the girls’ rooms fixed up, so I wouldn’t even have to change that.”

  She smiled. “Well, unless you have a boy.”

  Danae laughed into her coffee cup. “After your girls, and now Landyn’s twins, I can’t even imagine a boy in this family.”

  “Don’t let Dad hear you say that. I think he’s counting on Link to come through with at least one boy to carry on the Whitman name.”

  Danae was silent, and Corinne knew by the faraway look in her eyes that they were both thinking of Tim. That their brother had never had the chance to give his father a grandson.

  “So,” Danae said finally, “would you consider selling to Dallas and me?”

  “Of course. I mean, that would be great. I never thought about you guys wanting it . . .” She couldn’t quite identify the emotions that were bombarding her right now.

  “You’re sure it wouldn’t bother you—to have your house still in the family?”

  “No. No, actually that might make it easier. At least we’d know it would be taken care of.” But even as she spoke the words, she wasn’t so sure they were true. It was one thing to be giving up their house, but quite another to think of her sister taking it over. Still, she couldn’t deny that it was an answer to their prayers. It would buy them the time they needed to find another place. And it would keep them from having to show the house to anyone else, which would close one more avenue Michaela might employ to get to her and the girls.

  “We actually wondered if . . .” Danae hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure she should voice whatever it was she’d started to say.

  “What?”

  “Dallas wondered if you guys would be interested in buying our house. Kind of a swap—well, except for the money. I mean . . . Oh . . . That didn’t come out right.” Her cheeks flushed.

  Corinne chose to ignore it. She knew Danae hadn’t meant anything by her words. Still, it stung to be reminded that she was moving down in the world. “Wow,” she said. “I hadn’t even thought of that possibility.”

  “I know our house is kind of small—from what you’re used to. The girls would have to share a room but you know how big that second bedroom is. And I don’t know yet what we’d have to ask for it. We’re still working out the details. But I wanted to see if that was even a possibility for you guys.”

  “Well, it’s your decision. About buying our house, I mean. It’s a free country.” That came out harsher than she’d intended.

  “I know, Corinne, but we wouldn’t do it if we weren’t a hundred percent sure you and Jesse were okay with it. Whether you bought our house or not.”

  “Let me talk to Jesse about all this. It . . . you kind of took me by surprise.”

  They finished their coffee and made small talk. Then Danae went out to say hello to the girls before heading for work.

  Corinne made sure the doors were locked before going to the backyard. She sat on the lovely covered stone patio and watched the girls play, trying to imagine what it might be like in a few months when she would be a visitor in her own home—well, former home.

  She wasn’t sure she liked this twist. Yes, it would solve a big problem for them, but how would she feel having Dallas and Danae living here? Having her sister take over her home, her neighbors, her life? No, worse than that. Exchanging lives with Danae and Dallas. Not that there was anything wrong with the Brooks’s home. Danae had it fixed up cute, and the backyard was wonderful. The girls would be ecstatic to inherit the playhouse. But Corinne would always connect that yard to the day Sadie and Simone had gone missing.

  She bit her lip. If she was honest, what bothered her even more than the memories she had of that day was embarrassing to admit, even to herself, but . . . The Brooks’s home was a starter house. The type newlyweds bought. And yes, Dallas and Danae had fixed it up, made lots of improvements, but still . . . And the neighborhood. She’d just never thought she’d have to go back . . . down to that.

  Why was she having such a hard time getting past the economic implications of this move? People would understand. College wasn’t cheap. But it would be different if he was going back for a post-grad degree. Something that would advance his career. Get them ahead.

  She admired teachers greatly. It wasn’t that. Jesse was choosing an honorable profession. And there was no question in her mind that he was gifted greatly as a teacher. But they were never going to be buying a house in Silverthorne Woods or Dalhousie like she’d dared to dream. She felt guilty that it was so hard to let a dream like that die. Especially when God had already granted her deepest dream—getting to stay home with her girls. So many of her friends had to choose between that and having a nice house. She’d been blessed. And truly, she could have been happy in this house for the rest of their lives. But to go back to a little starter home? That felt on the verge of humiliating.

  And Danae’s offer to buy their house only emphasized the feeling of being a charity case. It would be different if they were selling their home to move up. Or even if they were willingly selling it. But they weren’t. At least she wasn’t. She’d only agreed to do so for Jesse’s sake. But it wasn’t what she really wanted. And the closer they got to this actually happening, the more she realized how sad the decision made her.

  But as she’d told her sister, it was a free country. They had no good reason to prevent Danae and Dallas from buying their home. Good grief, it was probably an answer to prayer. Certainly Jesse’s.

  Still, something didn’t sit right with her about it. No matter. She’d best get used to it.

  She remembered when Landyn and Chase had first moved back from New York, they’d had no money, no place to live, and babies on the way. She’d felt sorry for them, but she’d never thought about how difficult it must be for them to be dependent on everyone else. But then, they’d been newlyweds, which made it excusable. She and Jesse were far from that. They should have their lives and careers established by now. They should be on their way up. They had been on their way up, until Michaela Creeve entered the picture.

  Corinne had never hated anyone before. But these feelings of . . . rage was the only way to describe it, and she hated the way it had changed her.

  Now, the way things were going, she—the oldest Whitman offspring—was going to be the lowest of them all on the ladder of success. She may have been a lowly stay-at-home mom before all this, but she’d been that by choice, by design. And her husband’s success had afforded her a certain status that—she wasn’t ashamed to admit—she’d enjoyed.

  And now, to her shame, her main goal, when she considered a job search next fall, was finding something where she wouldn’t run into her more successful friends. Yet, the only reason she allowed herself to worry about that was because it kept her from thinking about the day she would drop Simone off at some impersonal daycare center.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced her thoughts to something that wouldn’t ruin her makeup. This wasn’t going to be easy.

  24

  You going to China next week, Pennington?” Larry Waymire blew across the cup of coffee he’d just poured. The fragrant steam reminded Jesse of why he’d braved coming down to the break room. Now he was sorry.

  He shrugged and reached for a foam cup. “If I am, I haven’t been informed yet. Why?”

  “You’re probably off the hook then. Lucky dog.” He frowned. “Wayne and I just got the great news. That hotel industry show you and Wayne did last year. He’s not real thrilled about having to go two years running. He got food poisoning last time. Remember that? He like to have died.”

  It didn’t take a psychology degree to detect the resentment directed at him. “Man, I’m sorry. I don’t know how I’ve managed to dodge the bullet these last few weeks.”

  “Yeah, well, we fly out Sunday night. The two of
us and Michaela. My missus is not a very happy camper.”

  He wondered if Larry’s wife was merely upset about Larry being gone—or about the fact that Michaela would be traveling with him. For the first time it struck him that he may not have been the only one Michaela had targeted. Surely Frank would have said something if that were the case. But he didn’t dare ask.

  Larry cocked his head. “You talk to that chick much when you’re on the road?”

  “Michaela?” Jesse felt heat rise to his face. “Not much.”

  Larry shook his head. “That girl’s got issues. I mean she’s nice enough, but she’s got a screw or two lose, if you know what I mean.”

  “I guess I don’t.” He really wanted to change the subject, and yet he was curious what Larry was getting at.

  “Well, who can blame her for being a little . . . off. I knew her dad. Buck, we called him. I guess that was his real name. He worked here back in the seventies. Hit the sauce a little too hard and got fired. But I think maybe he still has some connections with the higher-ups, which is probably how she got hired on. Anyway, her husband dumped her, like two years into the marriage . . . took pretty much everything in the divorce. Went back to New York or somewhere back East, wherever he was from.”

  “I didn’t even know she’d been married.”

  “Oh, yeah. Kind of surprised she’s never remarried, really. She’s not exactly hard on the eyes, if you know what I mean. Just a little different.”

  Jesse was feeling antsy at the conversation. It seemed odd that as much as Michaela talked, he’d never heard her even hint at any of the stuff Larry was telling. She never talked about herself, unless it was to say what restaurant she’d eaten at or where she liked to shop. Anyway, if she’d ever mentioned anything more personal, he’d missed it. And he’d never bothered asking either. Not that he was trying to get to know her. “I’d better get back to my desk. You guys have a good trip.”

  “Yeah, well, your turn’s coming, Pennington. You can’t get the lucky breaks forever.”