Contents
Title Page
Discovery
Dinner
Snooping
Forgetful
Beach
Digging
Feelings
Meeting
Discussion
Countdown
Planning
Preparing
Questioning
Searching
Travels
Home
Incognito
Clues
Tired
Gloating
Pieces
Encounter
Conflicted
Secrets
Relief
Fear
Agitated
Missing
Reality
Scared
Taken
Stuck
Home
Ride
Ambush
Boxed
Gone
Other Books
Author's Note
DEAN'S LIST
A STANDALONE FROM THE GONE TRILOGY
by Stacy Claflin
http://www.stacyclaflin.com
Copyright ©2015 Stacy Claflin. All rights reserved.
Edited by Staci Troilo
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental or used fictitiously. The author has taken great liberties with locales including the creation of fictional towns.
Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited. Do not upload or distribute anywhere.
This ebook is for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold or given away to others. If you would like to share this book with others, please either purchase it for them or direct them to StacyClaflin.com for links. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
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This book is a spin-off from the USA Today bestselling Gone Trilogy. It can be read by itself.
Discovery
Lydia Harris focused on her phone conversation, not paying attention to her actions as she got ready for a night out with the girls. She headed into the closet to find the perfect top to go with her adorable new shorts. She forgot she carried her glass perfume bottle, and her fingers slid as her left flip-flop caught on the corner of the molding of the large walk-in closet.
"Are we meeting for drinks first? I want—"
The perfume bottle slid from her hand, heading straight for Dean's treasured safe. It was the one where they kept the really important things, like money and jewelry.
Lydia watched in horror, the blood draining from her face, as the little glass container appeared to move in slow motion.
"Are you there, Lyds?" asked Bri.
Lydia let the phone fall onto the carpet as she reached for the perfume bottle. Her middle finger grazed it, pushing it closer toward the safe.
It hit, and broke instantly, sending glass in all directions. The strong smell surrounded her as she watched the liquid run down the front and sides of the safe, moving its way inside.
Lydia picked the phone back up. "I've got to go, Bri. Can you tell everyone I'm going to be a little late? Now I have a mess to clean up."
"Oh." Bri's pout could be heard through the phone. "Can't you leave the mess for the housekeeper?"
"No. Dean's due back tonight, and housekeeping won't be here until Tuesday. I have to take care of this now."
"How late?" Bri asked.
"Hopefully not long, but if you guys have to start without me, then go ahead."
"I'm sure we can wait, sweetie. See you soon."
"Bye," Lydia said, ending the call. She stared at the mess, not knowing where to start.
Dean was almost never home, but when he was, he was extremely particular about keeping things clean. And by clean, he meant perfect. If she left behind even a shard of glass or drop of sticky perfume, he would know, and would let her hear about it, too.
Lydia picked up the nozzle from the perfume and the larger pieces of glass, and walked back to the bathroom. Wrapping them in a paper towel and put them in the garbage, she opened the windows in the bathroom and the bedroom, and then grabbed the rest of the paper towels.
Staring at the mess in the closet, she again tried to decide the best way to get rid of all traces of her mistake. Lydia pulled off a few paper towels and used them to pick up the small pieces of glass. She was relieved to see how many stuck. When she had most of them picked up, she went back into the bathroom and threw the paper towels away.
Lydia brought the garbage back into the closet with her so she could throw each remaining shard of glass into the bin. She got on her knees and picked up the tiny shards stuck to the carpet fibers with her long, manicured nails. When she was sure she had gotten every last piece, she spun the dial and opened the safe door. Perfume ran down the inside of the door.
At least it hadn't gotten on anything inside. She wiped everything with the paper towels, but it wasn't enough. Lydia went back into the bathroom for a spray bottle of cleaner. After she was sure that every trace of the perfume and its bottle were gone, she gave it a once-over and then noticed something underneath the safe. It looked like her perfume may have pooled up there.
Lydia groaned, not wanting to move the heavy thing. She slid her finger along the bottom, and sure enough, underneath the safe it was wet. There was no other choice.
She moved the garbage bin and the paper towels out into the bedroom, and then stared at the safe. It was good sized, but not enormous. It wouldn't be impossible to move, but it would take some work. She wrapped her arms around the back of it and pulled, grunting. It moved about an inch. She repeated the process until the safe was out of the way—and she was covered in sweat.
Sure enough, there was a spot where the perfume pooled underneath the safe. She was going to have to get the liquid and the smell out of the carpet. Lydia went back into the bedroom to grab the paper towels and the spray bottle again.
Several minutes into the cleaning process, her phone rang. Lydia stared at the mess in the closet, shaking her head. She grabbed her phone, knowing that it was Bri. She was right. "Bri, I'm sorry, but I won't be able to make it today."
"Oh, Lyds. Don't bail on us."
"Sorry, but you know how Dean gets about his stuff. He's going to be back tonight, and I made a huge mess."
"Well, if you can make it come down, okay?"
"I'll try. Tell the girls hi for me."
"Will do. See you later, sweetie."
"Bye, Bri." Lydia threw her phone on the bed and then grabbed a flashlight. She went into the closet and shone the light over the carpet to make sure she hadn't missed any glass.
She was about to turn the flashlight off when something on the carpet caught her eye. Lydia wouldn't have noticed it without the brighter light. Part of the carpet was a slightly different color than the rest. She knelt down and shone the light closer. A patch of the carpet was just a shade lighter.
They had never replaced any of the carpet. She would have remembered, because Dean hated stuff like that. If something was wrong, he would have simply had all of it replaced. He would much rather throw money at something than accept a substandard version.
That was how he treated Lydia as well.
She leaned over and pulled on the lighter part, and the entire piece came off. Lydia stared at it and set it down, eyes widening. It looked like there was a groove in the wood flooring.
Lydia slid her finger into the channel and pulled. The wood came up, exposing a box underneath. Her heart pounded in her chest. She had to remove two more pieces of wood to get the box out.
It was made out of a material similar to the safe, but didn't app
ear to be as strong. She held her breath as she looked over the box.
Did she dare open it? She'd gone this far, she couldn't just put it back without seeing what was inside. She crossed her legs and set it on her lap.
Lydia's breath caught as she reached for the latch. What was she going to find? Was it something that had belonged to the previous homeowner? Or something of Dean's?
If so, it could be paperwork laying out some kind of shady deal he'd made with a client. It wouldn't surprise her, given how secretive he always was about his work.
Whatever it was, it had to be good for Dean to go to so much trouble to hide it. He was home only about three days a month, so she was impressed that he had managed all of this without her knowing.
She pulled on the latch, and the top came off with a creak. The box was full of newspaper clippings. Lydia dug around, looking for whatever was hiding beneath the papers.
Nothing.
Lydia unfolded the first paper and looked at the headline. It was a story about a housewife in Detroit who had been murdered. Chills ran down her back, despite the warm summer weather.
She set the paper down and unfolded the next one. A waitress from Boston slain.
Lydia looked at the next one. A hotel manager from San Diego killed under suspicious circumstances.
A librarian from Houston murdered in cold blood.
Everything around Lydia disappeared as she read the headlines from each of the papers. Her ears rang, drowning out other sounds. Dread washed over her as she realized that Dean had been to every one of the cities when he traveled for work. Would his work schedule match the dates on the papers?
Her stomach lurched.
Why would he keep those clippings? Surely he'd have a good reason to save and then hide them.
She went into the bedroom to look at the time. It was later than she thought, and Dean was due back in a little over an hour. That wasn't much time to get everything back in order.
Lydia grabbed a notebook and took it back to the closet. She wrote down the dates and cities of each murder on one of the pages.
Then she snapped a picture of each clipping on her phone. She had some digging to do, but it would have to wait until after Dean left again.
She folded the clippings with great care. If anything was even slightly off, Dean would notice right away. She put each paper in exactly as she had found it, and then closed the lid. She slipped the box into the floor and then put the pieces of wood back. Getting the carpet back as it had been was trickier, but she managed.
Lydia's nerves were on fire as she pushed the safe back into place.
Then she put some baking soda down on the carpet and vacuumed, hoping that would bring out the scent. It did seem to help—hopefully enough. Dean could be hyper-aware of tiny details.
She double-checked everything to make sure the perfume was fully cleaned up and that not a piece of glass remained. Once she was certain everything looked untouched, she tied up the garbage bag and took it to the bin outside.
A bead of sweat ran down her forehead. Lydia wiped it away, and went back upstairs to her room. She folded the paper she had written the dates and cities on and slid it into one of her steamy romance novels, where he would never look for it. Then she changed the password to her phone. She couldn't risk Dean accidentally finding the pictures she'd taken of the clippings.
She slid her phone into her shorts pocket and went back up to the bedroom so she could take a shower. The mixture of the perfume and sweat offended her nose, and Dean would definitely complain when he got home. Not that he would want to touch her, and for the first time, Lydia was grateful for that.
She went into the closet to grab some clean clothes. The smell of the perfume lingered, but wasn't nearly as bad as it had been. If she could keep Dean away from the bedroom for a little while, he would never know anything had been spilled—or moved.
Lydia shook as she grabbed a sleeveless top from the hanger. She wanted to be wrong, to believe that the clippings meant something else, but how could they? Why else would he go to all that trouble to hide them?
Dean obviously wanted to save them, and clearly not digitally since that would probably leave a trail.
Lydia put her new clothes on the bathroom counter and then went into one of the guest rooms and grabbed a fan. She plugged it in by the window next to her side of the bed and turned it on, facing the window. The fragrant air needed to be pushed outside. She lit a candle, too.
Lydia finished showering and getting ready just before she expected Dean to arrive. Her pulse quickened at the thought of talking to him. Usually, he preferred to avoid her as much as possible. He averaged three nights with her every thirty days, and she used the term 'with her' generously. He'd be in the house, but they wouldn't be together.
Often that bothered her. This time she dreaded his return. And prayed they wouldn't spend any time with each other.
His job required him to travel, but Lydia had always been certain that it didn't demand that much. He had to offer it up. She always assumed it was because he was having affairs. Never in a million years would she have guessed it was anything like this.
Lydia fluffed her hair, put the fan back in the guest room, and went downstairs. Everything was still quiet, which meant he wasn't home yet. Dean stomped around like the king of a castle, making sure Lydia knew it was his domain, and that he could do what he wanted.
She paced back and forth between the living room and the kitchen.
Maybe just the fact that she was home was enough to alert him that something was wrong. It might be better if she joined her friends, even though she was already really late.
She heard the sounds of the garage door opening. Dean's arrival made the decision for her.
Dinner
Lydia heard his engine cut in the garage. She jumped, her pulse pounding in her ears.
Dean would know she found his papers. Then he would kill her, too.
She took a deep breath. There was no reason for him to suspect she had found his things.
Lydia ran to the kitchen and pulled out some food. She would have to distract herself with cooking to keep from acting like something was wrong.
It had been a while since she'd made her famous lasagna for him. Lydia had planned on making some for dinner with the girls the next night—it was her night to take care of the meal—so she already had everything in the fridge. The homemade noodles and sauce would be enough to help put Dean in a good mood.
She pulled out all the ingredients for that and got to work. Just as she got the meat into the frying pan, she looked up to see Dean walking in.
Lydia forced a smile and said, "Hi."
He made a funny face.
They rarely greeted each other, and now she was acting out of character.
"Is someone coming over?" he asked.
"Nope. I just felt like making lasagna. We haven't sat down for a meal together in so long, I thought it would be nice."
"I had dinner on the plane."
"You can make room for this."
Dean sniffed the air. "I suppose I can. Why aren't you out with friends?"
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Lydia forced a smile, and then turned around and put the noodles in boiling water. She wanted to slap herself for the poor choice of words.
"You usually have plans."
Lydia turned around and held up some vegetables. "Want to help? Or would you rather settle in?" She turned to the fridge and asked, "Do you want a beer?"
He gave her a funny look. "Thanks."
Why was she being so helpful? He would definitely know something was wrong.
"I think I'll just turn the news on. I'll just get in your way." He went over to the couch, put his feet on the coffee table, and opened his drink.
Lydia made a face. He knew how much it irritated her when he put his feet up like that, but at least it gave her some space to pull herself together. She was freaked out and overcompensating.
She glanced at him,
wondering if she could sneak over to his office and check the dates on his calendar. She needed to find out for sure if the dates lined up. Even though his attention was on the TV, she wouldn't be able to walk over without him noticing.
Her mind buzzed with questions while she made the side dishes as the lasagna baked. She was just glad to have kept him away from the bedroom for a while longer. With any luck, the smell of dinner would cover what was left of the perfume.
When the food was almost ready, she set the table. She found a bottle of red wine and put it next to Dean's plate. If nothing else, she would get him relaxed and sleepy so he wouldn't question her strange behavior. She would have to stay away from the wine so that she wouldn't get comfortable and say too much. That was her tendency when the wine came out.
"Dinner's ready."
Dean rose and scanned the spread. "It looks delicious." He sat and filled his plate.
Lydia barely put anything on her plate, but he didn't seem to notice. "How was your trip?"
"Same old. Just working the whole time." He finished off the beer and poured the wine.
"You leave again tomorrow?" she asked.
Dean nodded and then swallowed. "This time to Chicago. Looks like a short trip. You might actually see me twice in one week."
"Imagine that."
He reached for bread and then took a sip of wine. "I didn't think I was hungry until I tasted your cooking. It's been too long."
She took a small bite. "What are you going to do in Chicago?"
"I might catch a Cubs' game."
"Oh? By yourself?" she asked.
His eyes widened and he cleared his throat. "Uh, no."
"Who, then?"
Dean took a big bite and then indicated that he couldn't speak.
Lydia wanted to ask more, but if she got too close to finding out if his guest had anything to do with the clippings, he might suspect something. She took a few bites, and they ate in silence.
"That was good," Dean said. "I don't usually get to eat anything like this." His eyes narrowed. "I hope you don't expect anything later. You know how tired I get after traveling. I just want to check my email and get to sleep. I have an early flight in the morning."
Dean's List Page 1