“What can I do for you?” Before Chad could answer, Bill said, “Is something wrong? Lee—Willow—the kids?”
“I think so. Well,” he clarified, “I know something is wrong, but I’m not sure who/how/what. So, I wondered if you knew the names of the claimants on the lawsuit.”
“There were three… I don’t remember the third—had a different last name, but I can look it up if you like. Don’t you have your copies of the settlement?”
“I don’t know where Willow put them. What were the names of the two with the same last name?”
“Marta Rosser—some last name and Jason Rosser Jr.”
“Do you know how old junior is?”
“What’s going on, Chad?”
Trying not to explode, he repeated himself. “Do you know the man’s age?”
“He’d be about three years older than Willow. He was three when his father died.”
Father died. Such an innocuous way to put it. My mother-in-law murdered a man, and her financial advisor puts it as, “he died.”
“You know, I never understood why Kari was so obsessed with no strangers on her property. When I got a new car, she came out with a shotgun trained on me. Now I get it, though. It wasn’t just hiding from the Solaris. She feared someone finding out and coming to take her away. That would have exposed Willow more than if she had just gone home and had the baby.”
Bill’s words made sense. It had seemed a bit extreme to him, and yet, the Finley women were extreme. “Maybe. Then again, Willow locked the boys in the house and faced a man who calls himself Jason Ross the other day.”
“Calls himself?”
“I think it’s Rosser. He’s made a few comments about mothers, and he’s a bit obsessed with the farm...” Chad swallowed hard. “He’s stalking her.”
“You’re a cop! Do something!”
“They’re not here, Bill. I’m not stupid.”
“I can probably get a picture of him if that would help.”
Chad strode through the house, slamming the door shut behind him. “Not necessary. I was just confirming. I’ve got the right name now. I just need to verify and I can put an APB out on him.”
“I’ve got their numbers at the office. Want me to get ‘em?”
As much as he preferred to leave Bill out of it, it might be faster. “Yeah…text it to me when you get it. Thanks.”
While the boys slept, Willow drove home with Kari to retrieve the forgotten breast pump. Whether due to the stress of the situation, a change in diet at the Tesdalls, or for some other unknown reason, her milk supply seemed to be dropping just as Kari hit a growth spurt. The closer she drew to Fairbury, the more anxious she became to see Chad.
“It’s a long way from wishing he’d go away,” she called back to Kari. The child didn’t respond, much to Willow’s amusement. “I think that talking to your infant is the first step in losing your sanity. It starts with just a few innocent words, and the next thing you know, you talk to yourself when you’re alone. Daddy says that once you answer yourself back, you’re certifiably nuts. I prefer my nuts uncertified, but I’m a rebel.”
As they bounced over the rutty drive, Kari whimpered. “We’ll be done soon and then we’ll go see Daddy. It’ll just take me a minute.”
Willow’s voice soothed her daughter’s whimpers until she stopped the van. A glance back at the car seat showed a sleeping baby. “Perfect.”
The house looked abandoned—forlorn. With the leafless and nearly leafless trees, the lack of activity around the place, and no smoke puffing out from the woodstove pipes, no one would imagine anyone lived there. The locked door—so many changes in her life. Still, despite her distaste, it was necessary. Poor Jason was so unbalanced.
Unlike Chad, Willow felt pity for the man. As long as he didn’t hurt anyone, and she was sure he wouldn’t, he deserved compassion, not condemnation. Her mother had killed his father. That kind of loss at such a young age… What had Jason’s sister told Chad about their mother? How she’d “checked out” of their lives and barely existed? It broke her heart to imagine a little boy, not much older than her sons, essentially losing both parents at once.
A glance back at the van reminded her of Chad’s concerns. With the push of her thumb, the doors locked and the alarm beeped. There. He can’t say I didn’t take him seriously. As she hurried to the kitchen, Willow sighed and reached for her phone. Maybe Chad’s worked now. The voice message picked up after several rings. Doesn’t that mean he’s checked it since the last time I called? I thought it went straight to voicemail if you missed calls in a row… hmmm…
Just as she reached for the breast pump, the phone rang. One glance at it made her smile. “Hey! I’ve been trying to catch you.”
“Don’t go to the house. Just buy another stupid pump!”
“I like this one. Besides, I’m already here. Are you at the station? I thought we could eat lunch if the chie—”
“I’m coming out now. Get in the van and go!”
“Chad! If I’m leaving, why come?”
“Go, lass. I don’t trust this guy. His sister says he sounds even stranger than he did before. He’s absolutely fixated on you.”
Despite her opinion of Chad’s “obvious” overreaction, Willow grabbed the pump. “See you in a few.” She frowned. “Wait!”
“What?”
“If you’re coming here, then how will I meet you in town?” A sigh escaped. “I really wanted to see you.”
“I’ll turn around when I see you. I’m turning onto the highway now. Just go.”
The moment she reached the front door, her phone rang. Once more, “Unknown” flashed where a name or number should be. Without hesitating, she set down the pump and strode to the library. “Hello?”
“You’re home. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Jason. I just came for something I need.”
Jason’s cold tones held a menacing edge to them. “He shouldn’t lock you away like that. You need to stay away from him.”
“He didn’t lock me away. He didn’t even come with me.” She pulled down the gun safe and rolled the combination numbers. It didn’t open. Frustrated and with fear creeping into her heart, she stared at the numbers. 3129. Willow blinked and rolled the numbers once more. 3219. The safe opened.
“So you left him? I’m very glad to hear that.” A knock on the door startled her. “Let me in. Let’s talk.”
“Coming. I’ll just hang—”
“Don’t hang up, Willow. I’ll have to break in if you hang up. Last time you called him. You can’t do that this time. I know you’re scared of him—rightfully so—but you don’t have to do what he says. Just open the door and let me in. We’ll talk. We’ll work out a way to get rid of him. You Finley women are very good at getting rid of people who scare you, aren’t you?”
She listened, her hand on the doorknob, and debated. Let him in to get him farther away from Kari or go out and be closer to her child. In. Definitely in. Lord, help me.
She flung open the door, gun trained on Jason. “Come in, Mr. Rosser.” Willow took a step back.
The man was filthy—bundled in snow clothes and a thick overcoat. Had he been outside all this time—hiding? That was good, wasn’t it? Chad had been home alone and Jason hadn’t hurt him.
“Willow… I’m disappointed in you.”
“In the kitchen, Jason. Go.”
“Are you going to shoot me too if I don’t? Carry on the Finley tradition of killing Rosser men?”
Willow took a deep breath and jerked her head. “Go. I don’t want to shoot you—definitely don’t want to kill you—but I will do either or both if I have to. Go.” She stepped into the library doorway to give him room to pass.
“Chad’s coming then, is he?” Jason’s shoulders slumped. “Isn’t that how our justice system works? The victim ends up in jail while the murderess gets off scot free.”
Twice he attempted to lunge for the gun. Both times she managed to step aside without needing to
shoot. “I won’t hesitate. I am, after all, my mother’s daughter.”
The moment she spoke, Willow realized she’d made a terrible mistake. Jason’s entire demeanor changed in a flash. Though he had seemed harmless at first, rage filled his eyes. He flung obscenities at her, one after another. Hand trembling, Willow tried to sound confident as she ordered him into her mother’s rocker. A nervous giggle escaped as she realized that the man had gone off “his rocker” and into her mother’s. It seemed like a warped poetic thought.
“You’re just like her, aren’t you? You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
Jason lunged for her.
Willow fired.
Jason screamed and blubbered in fear.
Chad burst through the door just as she ordered him back to the chair.
“Lass!”
“In here.”
Chad found Jason Rosser cringing in Mother’s recliner, shrieking about how Willow tried to kill him. The disgusted look on his wife’s face, confused him. “What’s wrong?”
“I missed. The guy is right there—six feet from me—and I missed!”
Trying not to laugh, Chad took the gun from her. “Why did you shoot?”
“Because she’s crazy!”
“Because he lunged at me. I wasn’t going to let him get me!” She stared down at Jason. “Never come near me or my family again. Never.”
Without another word, she hugged Chad and left. As he heard the door open, he called out, “You can’t go yet, Lass!”
“I can get the baby, can’t I?”
Chapter 189
October 12
I told the boys it was Columbus Day. Chad argued. Apparently we “observe” it on the second Monday in October, regardless of the date. I told him the boys can figure that out if it ever matters to them, but for now, we can stick to the right date. I think he thinks I’m nuts. He can think that. I know he is. Mother would agree as well.
Liam has become a mimic. That boy says a million words—most of which I am certain he does not understand. Still, the ability to say them is a start. Lucas, on the other hand, seems to be imitating his namesake. He says little, but understands much. Chad joked about having the boy’s name changed, but I suspect in a few years, he’ll be glad that one of our children says little. Kari, if three months of life can be indicative of anything, will be a chatterbox. She vocalizes constantly. I find it very sweet, and Chad proves my point when he says she’ll never stop talking once she starts. Will she be like Liam? Every word having a question mark at the end? I tell him not to touch the stove and he says, “Stove?” I tell him to be gentle with his egg and he says, “egg?” Little magpie.
Speaking of gentle and eggs, we have made it to the house with eggs intact for two days in a row now! The boys are quite proud of themselves, so I’ve taken to allowing them to crack their eggs in a bowl for me to scramble. This means that I have to fish out half a dozen eggshells, but it seems to be worth it. I think if they are careless and break an egg (as opposed to falling flat on their face with it—hee hee), I will not let them do it to reinforce the gentle aspect. I hope they’re old enough to connect the concept. Chad says it doesn’t matter if they can or not—that eventually they will and it will be a consistency. He’s been talking a lot about consistency. I think Luke is a good influence on both of us.
Speaking of Luke and Aggie, I want to mark down here that Aggie’s mother isn’t doing well. We’ve been praying for her, and now they’re all driving up to Yorktown “just in case.” It seems such a sad thing to do—rush home and possibly say goodbye. I’m marking it down because if Mrs. Milliken does live, I think it would be a beautiful thing for my children to see that answered prayer. If not, well, then the Lord answered the deepest prayers of our hearts—that His will be done. I just don’t want that to be His will right now. Aggie and the children have lost enough already.
I received a card from Marta Rosser Pike. She thanked me for being kind to her brother and apologized for him. I had to turn it over to the ADA. Look at me using legal acronyms. I remember when ME made me so confused! Jason is being charged with trespassing and stalking—but I think Chad used a different word for the stalking. There is a restraining order protecting us from him. He is not allowed within fifteen hundred feet of the farm, our family, or any of our employees. Chad tried to get an assault charge (how you can have one of those if he never touched any of us, I don’t know) , but because his threat to break in the window did not include a “verifiable” threat of bodily harm to me, Chad, or the children, the ADA decided against prosecuting that one.
I feel sorry for him. He had a lonely life without his father, and probably just as he’d established himself as an adult, he’s notified of his father’s murder. Who wouldn’t snap a bit? Chad even admits that my being nice to him that first day probably created loyalty to me that protected me.
Is it terrible that I’m just irritated that I missed? I wasn’t going to kill him, but he should be sporting a cast right now. Hmph. Chad couldn’t believe I remembered the combination. If I recall correctly, he’s the one who marveled at my memory for numbers that first night. Why should this surprise him?
A car pulled into the yard before Willow could continue. Her eyebrows narrowed as she set down the journal and glanced at Kari asleep in the basket beneath the dining table. The clock struck two-thirty. The boys would sleep for another half hour at least.
She grabbed her coat and the house key, locked the door, and stepped outside, pulling on the coat as she did. Just as the door clicked shut, her heart sank. Things really had changed. Locking a door to greet a guest. Even Mother had never done that. Then again, with a shotgun in hand, Mother hadn’t needed to.
A man stepped from the car, smiling. Unease washed over her. Still, she nodded and stepped off the porch. “May I help you?”
“The girl at the diner—Kelsie—sent me. She said you sometimes give tours—”
“We do, but not without my husband,” Willow corrected. “I’m sorry.” Silver hair, bushy mustache, and an eye that seemed to droop, the man looked innocuous enough. Still, Chad had made her promise.
“I understand.” He stepped forward, offering his hand. “I’m Ralph Myner. I’m just visiting—on vacation, you know. I thought Fairbury might be a nice place to retire.” Something in her features must have given away her uncertainty. “I could show you my driver’s license…”
“It’s not that. We just had an unsettling—”
The man’s eyes widened. “Oh! I’d heard about that. I’m sorry.” He backed away. “When does your husband work—no, that won’t do. You shouldn’t tell when he won’t be here. How about I leave my business card on the step after you go in? You can call me if there’ll be a good time for a tour in the next few days. I leave on Sunday.”
She nodded. “Thank you for understanding. I’ll call after talking to Chad—even if he says no. And he might.” Willow’s smile grew. “He can be a little over-protective.”
“Occupational hazard, I imagine.” Ralph stepped back. “Better get inside. I don’t want to get on your husband’s bad side before I get a chance to know him. Thanks.”
Once the car disappeared down the drive, Willow crept out onto the front porch and pulled the business card from beneath the corner of the railing. “Ralph Myner—Market Research Analyst at Werther Group Inc. Interesting.”
Ralph Myner stepped into the Fairbury Police Station and nodded at the paunchy looking man beside the coffee maker. “Looking for an Officer Tesdall…”
“Chad’s doing a transport to Brunswick. I’m Chief Varney, how can I help you?”
He pulled out his wallet and passed a business card across the counter. “I stopped by his place a few days ago and his wife told me she’d talk to him about letting me take a tour.”
“They’ve had a bit of an upset out there recently—and it ain’t the first time, so I imagine Chad’s being a bit over-cautious.”
Nodding, Ralph tried to explain. “Look, norm
ally I wouldn’t even ask again. I’d just let it go. It’s not like there aren’t a thousand farms I could visit on any given day.”
“None like Walden, though. Willow’s got herself a unique situation out there.”
“That’s why I’m here. I wanted Chad to call my office. My assistant will fax any reference he wants or needs. Do a background check—anything. Here—” Ralph pulled out his driver’s license. “—why don’t you copy this for him.”
The chief read the card before saying, “From Los Angeles, eh?”
“Yep.” Ralph shoved his hands in his jacket pocket. “Look, everywhere I go in this town, someone mentions that farm. Have I met Willow? Do I know she spins her own wool? Do I know they have the best beef ever raised anywhere? Do I know that she never knew anyone but her mother and some financial guy before a few years back? Do I know she can walk on water…”
This time, the chief laughed. “That’s pretty much about it. Sure. I’ll check this out myself. Have it ready for Chad.” He hesitated before adding, “He’s a good fellow, Chad. He’s just got a protective side when it comes to her—had it from the moment she walked in here and told us her mother was dead.” Varney grinned. “Girl actually suggested burying her mother herself, and when we called for an ambulance, she said, ‘I don’t think that’ll do her any good now.’”
“A joke?” Seemed a bit of a heartless one, but Ralph couldn’t imagine what else it could be.
“Nope. She just never imagined anyone would use an ambulance to cart off a dead person. I think she thought we’d come out, make a report, and leave her to bury her mama by herself.” The man wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Sorry. Upsets me every time I remember it, but Chad found that poor girlie out there sobbing as she dug her own mama’s grave.”
A lump filled Ralph’s throat. “Wow.”
“That’s—”
“—what everyone says about Willow,” Ralph finished. “I leave at one o’clock Sunday. I really hope to hear from Chad. Even if it means I have to fly out again.”
Past Forward- A Serial Novel: Volume 6 Page 8