Burned Bridges: Oliana Mercer Series Prequel (Crossing Series)

by Marguerite Ashton

  When the stress of acting began to wear on me, I gently withdrew my hand from Marc’s. “I need to go find Mr. Edwards.”

  “I’ll be right here waiting.”

  Searching for my boss among the sea of people, seemed like a futile task until I heard his familiar laugh.

  He was engaged in a conversation with clients that already had him on retainer and some who looked to be new prospects.

  “Ah, there is my favorite girl. That dress takes my breath away.”

  “Mr. Edwards, I am going to mingle for a while longer, and then I’ll be leaving.”

  He put his hand around my waist to draw me near and lowered his voice. “You’ve done well. This party is already a success and dinner hasn’t been served yet,” he said, slurring his words.

  I laughed with him and eased myself out of his embrace. I did as I promised, mingling with the wives of other attorneys and new interns who had joined the firm.

  “You’re a lucky woman to have landed a guy like Marc,” one lady said.

  “I agree. Out of all the other available women, he picked you. Better hold on to him,” said Sandy.

  I eyed Marc’s ex-girlfriend. “I’ll be sure to call you for tips, Sandy.”

  When I returned to the spot where Marc and I parted, he wasn’t there.

  Olivia rushed up to me holding an appetizer.

  “Have you seen Marc?” I asked.

  She stuffed her mouth and shook her head.

  Dana sauntered over, eyeing Olivia. “You’re out and about already.”

  “Hi Dana,” Olivia said.

  A chill prickled my skin. “You two know each other?”

  “Yep,” said Dana. “She used to date my cousin, Bruce. Broke his heart.”

  A man walked up and stood next to Dana.

  “Traci, I’m not feeling well,” Olivia said.

  “Go get our coats,” I said. “Once I find Marc, we’ll leave.”

  The home was massive, and I had no idea where to start. A quick search revealed that Marc wasn’t near the food, the wine, or smokers forming a tight-knit, hazy huddle just outside the side door.

  After ten minutes of searching, I claimed the lounge chair in the sitting room. My feet were puffy, and my knee was starting to ache. I took off my shoes and massaged my aching arches.

  Suddenly, I heard voices coming from the room next to me. I limped over, bracing myself against the wall.

  I walked up to the door that was ajar, knocked softly and pushed it open.

  Rage flashed through me as Marc pulled Stephanie onto his lap and moved in for a kiss. As he went to kiss her back, he caught sight of me at the door.

  “Traci.” Marc launched off the sofa, dumping Stephanie to the floor.

  Stephanie adjusted her bra strap, got to her feet and tried to make a quick exit, but I shut the door.

  “You could be a little more discreet,” I said, eyeing Stephanie.

  “It’s not what you think,” Marc said, coming towards me.

  I folded my arms. “You don’t know what I think.”

  “Things have been hectic for me lately. And not being able to have quality time with you took a toll on me. You were always with your friends and babysitting Olivia. I’m sorry I slipped up, and it will never happen again.”

  “Slipped up?” Stephanie asked, turning toward Marc. “You told me you couldn’t marry a woman that had so many problems.”

  “Shut up,” Marc said.

  “What is she talking about?” I asked.

  Stephanie looked me up and down, smiled wickedly and said, “Well, you know – you’re damaged. You can’t expect Marc to put up with your handicap. And you’re alcoholic to boot.”

  Marc said, “Damn you, Stephanie. Shut the hell up!”

  I stepped to the side as Stephanie stormed out.

  Marc inched towards me. “Please give me a second chance.”

  Never in my life did I think I could feel so incomplete. When Marc took me out on our first date, I thought it was too good to be true. Here was this handsome guy, built to perfection and he wanted to be with me despite my small handicap.

  Now I realized that what I thought I had was never mine to begin with.

  “I want you to pack your shit and get out,” I said.

  Dejected and numb, I slammed the door behind me and went to get Olivia. I considered showing the valet the parking ticket we found in Marc’s pocket and driving his car home. Instead, I took the high road over grand theft auto and called us a cab.

  Chapter 23

  The next day, I returned with Sam from our walk, settled into the house and inhaled the wintergreen scent from the candle sitting on the kitchen table. Next to it, the petals from the dozen yellow roses given to me by Marc had fallen and dried. Just more symbolism of my previous relationship. At least I can make a potpourri basket.

  Sam barked, snapping me out of my thoughts. Then she growled.

  Worry gnawed at me as I focused on the area that had Sam so agitated.

  Olivia’s room.

  The door’s opened. Olivia always closes her door before she leaves. She can’t be back yet. “Hello?” I said, tapping it with my cane. “Olivia, I didn’t know you were back.”

  I stepped inside and scanned the room. The mattress was flipped over, clothes were scattered about, and Olivia’s memory box was turned on its side.

  Creak.

  I hobbled over to the closet, stood next to the vanity and reached for the knob, my hand trembling. I tightened my fingers around my cane and the knob and swung open the door.

  Empty.

  Suddenly, a set of icy digits touched the back of my neck, holding me firmly in place. I stared at the stocky intruder in the mirror. I registered only clothing: A baseball cap pulled down shielded his eyes and a brown shirt plastered with a marijuana logo covered his light skin.

  “Please don’t hurt me. I’m expecting a baby.”

  “Just be cool and drop your cane.”

  I did as he instructed.

  He leaned his face forward to whisper in my ear.

  “Did you know you’re housing a murderer?”

  “Who are you?”

  “Answer the question,” he said, squeezing my neck.

  His breath reeked of tuna and onions. The stench repulsed me.

  “She wasn’t in her right mind,” I said.

  His grip loosened.

  “Look, I don’t have much—”

  “If you want to live, don’t call the police. If I get caught, I’ll tell everything. You got it?”

  “Yes.”

  He shoved me into the closet.

  I threw my hands out in front of me to keep me from falling on my stomach, but I lost my balance and fell on my knees.

  I cried out as a volt of sharp pain shot through my knee like a thousand sewing needles puncturing a pincushion. After the pain had slowed to a dull ache, I rotated my body, so my back leaned against the wall facing the door.

  A few moments later the stranger rustled around in the room and propped something against the closet door. Not long after that, the front door shut.

  Thanks for protecting me, Sam.

  Pain knifed through my knee once, lasting for a second or two. As the pain subsided, I scooted across the carpet, tried the door knob, but the closet door wouldn’t budge.

  I struggled to stand in the cramped space.

  Once on my feet, I tugged on the light cord, hoping to disperse my rising panic. In the corner, a bug worked to free itself from the cobweb that dangled from one beam to another.

  Trapped.

  Guess we have the same problem. “Olivia, Sam, somebody help,” I said pounding on the door until my hand throbbed.

  I dug into my pocket, found my phone and dialed Norman’s number.

  Damn. Weak signal.

  Adrenaline pumped through me as I took two quick breaths and texted. “Help me I’m at home. It’s an emergency.”

  Please go through.

  I hoped he wasn’t in sur
gery and kept my eyes glued to the phone for his response.

  “I’ll be right over.”

  Hope fluttered in my belly. I sat down, tucked my foot under my thigh, and settled in to wait.

  A heaviness settled in my bladder.

  Now I have to pee but can’t because I’m cramped in a tight space waiting to be rescued. Beautiful Traci. I almost laughed, but didn’t, recognizing that I rode the fine dividing line of hysteria. Mixed emotions ran through me as I tried to figure out why an intruder had broken into my home and ransacked Olivia’s room. Because of the texts and now the break-in, I had to make finding out who was sending the messages my primary goal.

  Please hurry Norman. If he had left the hospital, that was an hour away, but if he were at home, I would only have a ten-minute wait.

  A tingling sensation in my foot forced me to stretch out my leg, and the carpet under my bottom was no longer comfortable. The urge to pee had intensified; it now felt like someone was tapped my bladder to see if it would burst.

  “Somebody, help, please.”

  “Traci?”

  “Norman! I’m in here,” I yelled, banging on the door.

  “What the hell?” Norman said.

  I heard some movement on the other end, and finally, fresh air whipped across my face as Norman jerked the closet open. We hugged and he surveyed the room.

  “Why are you in the closet?”

  I told him what happened, and went to get my duster from the laundry room. When I returned, Norman had already begun cleaning.

  “This was about Olivia?”

  “It has to be. Her room is the only one disturbed.”

  “This is insane, Traci. You could’ve been hurt.”

  “But I wasn’t. Baby and I are fine. Can you help me swab that web off that beam?”

  “You’re kiddin’ right?” But he did what I asked.

  “Don’t start with me.” I limped to the bathroom across the hall and closed the door.

  “You’re stuck in a closet, and you noticed that you missed a spider web. Kevin’s gonna love this one.”

  Norman left the room while I picked up Olivia’s box and put its contents back inside. A picture of a little girl was among them.

  I flipped the picture over to the read the back.

  “Happy First Birthday.”

  Norman came back in with a trash bag. “There’s no forced entry.”

  “So how did he get in?”

  “Did you leave your door unlocked?”

  “No.”

  I cleaned up the smaller stuff while Norman placed the mattress back on the box spring.

  “I’m parched,” I said.

  “I’ll make you some tea.”

  He led me into the kitchen and I sat down. Moments later, the teakettle whistled, a soothing, safe sound that immediately grounded me.

  “We should call the police,” Norman said.

  I blew gently in the cup. “I can’t, remember? I’m concealing evidence. Besides, Olivia’s room was the only one broken touched. They’ll start asking too many questions.”

  “Then we’re stuck handling this by ourselves.”

  “Seems that way. I need to find out who’s behind the messages and see if there is a way to end this.”

  “Did they ever say what they wanted?”

  “For Olivia to take responsibility.”

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I explained how Olivia claimed not to know anything though she admitted that the number belonged to Bruce.

  “Maybe Kevin’s right,” Norman said.

  “Right about what?”

  “With what just happened, I think it’s time to consider that Olivia hasn’t been straight with you.”

  “She should take a number and get in line.”

  “Why? What else is wrong?”

  I told Norman about Marc and Stephanie and how that destroyed my hope for a family.

  Norman wrapped me in his arms and held me. “I’ve got just the thing to help you smile.”

  “Humph.”

  “How does this sound? You take a nap, and I’ll track down Kevin. He and I will go the store and buy dinner.”

  “Are you cooking?”

  “I’m cooking.”

  “I’ll go take that nap.”

  Sam followed me into the room, where she hopped up on the bed next to me, panting. Exhausted, I petted her head. You’re no guard dog, but I still love you. You and my baby will be my family. Soon I was asleep.

  My baby woke me from my slumber by pressing his foot into my ribcage. After a few tosses and turns, I gave up trying to get any more sleep. I got up, and migrated towards the kitchen. “Yummy! What’s for dinner?” I asked the guys, peeking into the grocery bags.

  “Baked chicken with potatoes au gratin.”

  “Norman’s cooking,” Kevin said. “I’m the entertainment. Come on Traci; you owe me a game of Crazy Eights.”

  It was great to have friends who wanted to see me happy. Though Kevin was piecing his life back together after his divorce and custody battle, he still managed to make others around him smile. Even if that meant playing a card game he hated.

  After a quick game and a scrumptious dinner, I suggested staying in and watching a DVD. The guys happily accepted. Since they were gracious enough to drag out our evening, I picked an action movie and we all relocated to the den.

  The den was one of my decoration projects that needed attention, but it was still a decent place to entertain. All four walls were bare. Only my loveseat, coffee table, and big screen television occupied the carpeted space.

  “Tell me you do not own a combo player,” Norman said as I came down with a bowl of popcorn.

  “Yes. I’m very proud that I can still play tapes while acknowledging the existence of DVDs.”

  “You need a blue ray,” Kevin said.

  “No, I don’t. For one, I like things just the way they were. I’m not a big fan of all the technology available today, except for my smartphone.”

  “At least you’ve got good taste in movies,” Norman said.

  He pushed the disc in, turned out the lights and sat next to me. His loyalty to me touched me and I loved him for that. I wondered if I loved him more than I should.

  Chapter 24

  After all the craziness, I used the rest of the weekend to recuperate. I seriously considered self-medicating with a six pack of beer. Instead, after much soul-searching, I opted for a pint of cookie dough ice cream. It soothed my inner wounds, but emotionally, I still wasn’t a hundred percent. The only rainbow of happiness was when I celebrated the progress of my pregnancy in the moments when I felt the baby kicking, or hiccupping, or slam dancing. At times, I wondered if I was carrying an entire marching band.

  Olivia’s behavior bothered me. For hours at a time, she would stay locked away in her room, probably to avoid my questioning gazes. I ruminated for days trying to figure out why she would sequester herself when she was lucky to have her freedom. Was she punishing herself for what had happened? Or was this something that she did because she was used to being alone?

  I’d relax whenever I heard her singing and plucking at her guitar. I took it to mean that she wanted to let some form of brightness shine just to make herself feel visible.

  One of my favorites was a song where she sang about innocence. I don’t believe it was complete because I only heard a few refrains.

  When I told her about the break-in and what happened to her room, she didn’t respond like I thought she should. Her personal property was destroyed, but she seemed unconcerned. She never told me if anything was missing and when I pressed to see why she wasn’t upset about the incident, she replied, “I’ve been through a lot worse.”

  If break-ins were routine occurrences in her life, perhaps she should find another place to stay.

  Was Olivia still hiding secrets?

  Olivia’s encounter at the firm’s party with Dana and the gentleman was unsettling as well. I tried t
o connect the dots regarding the three of them after I received another text from the same cryptic source.

  It was the letter N. I assumed the letters had to spell something and tried several times to put them together. I even managed to pry Olivia out of bed. Her body print had molded her position into the mattress, causing me to wonder if my baby would leave a similar imprint in my body after it was born.

  Later that evening, Olivia and I sat on the couch in front of the bay window. The sun had moved behind the house, creating a shaded spot on the front lawn. The leaves swayed softly in the breeze as if it was composing a classical piece of its very own and every so often, a hint of its melody whisked through the open screen door.

  It air wasn’t cold, and it wasn’t hot. It was just right. The bouquet of the coming fall blanketed me with warm feelings and provided me with positive thoughts.

  “Are you up for a round of Scrabble?” I asked, tossing a notepad into her lap.

  Slowly, she turned the paper counterclockwise and squinted.

  “I’m wondering if they’re trying to spell out a name. A name of a person. Do you have any idea who it could be?”

  She shoved it back at me. “No.” Olivia dangled her arm over the back of the couch and buried her face into the cushion.

  “There’s something you’re not telling me. What do you know, Olivia?”

  “I’m going through something you couldn’t possibly understand. I’m just as upset as you are about the texts.”

  If that was true, she had a strange way of showing it.

  I was at my wits’ end and was tired of lying. I even considered turning myself in first thing Monday morning, but sudden jabbing pains in my groin kept me at home. I called in sick for work, awash in nausea and pain.

  Marc’s indiscretion spread through the firm. Even Mr. Edwards had gotten word about it. “Take this time and get better. Miranda sends her love.”

  “I appreciate your support.”

  Marc came by after work to quietly collect his belongings and his pathetic, worthless, broken promise ring. His attitude about being unfaithful made my head spin. Knowing he’d made love to me only days before he was pawing over Stephanie in my boss’ home made my skin crawl. He had put on quite a performance back in Boulder. Nothing angered me more than the fact that I had fallen for it.