Maybe whatever Dean didn't talk about from his past had contributed to him becoming a murderer. Lydia was pretty sure that having an impossible to please parent didn't drive people to become psychopaths. It probably didn't help to prevent it, but it couldn't cause it. Or could it?
Her parents had expected a lot out of her, but they weren't jerks about it. And then when her mom's health began to fail, they paid even less attention, barely noticing when she struggled with a subject.
Could it be something in his genes? She didn't know of any of Dean's relatives in either jail or psychiatric care. All of his relatives were accounted for, working long hours to be able to compete with each other. His family gatherings were always full of competition—whose car was the most expensive, whose house had the most square feet, whose vacation destination was the most luxurious. It gave her headaches.
It usually made her miss her mom. Things were so simple, yet so painful, when it came to her. Her mom had once been a strong woman with a huge personality. Seeing her stuck to a bed in need of twenty-four hour nursing care ripped her heart out. It was even worse that she couldn't see her very often, but at least her mom knew and appreciated the fact that Lydia had her job for the magazine to pay for her care.
Lydia would have to make a point to visit her mom again after she got back home. Dean was due back soon, but once he left again, she needed to visit her mom. It had been too long, and distance really wasn't an excuse even if her mom had no concept of time anymore.
The GPS told her to exit the freeway, so she pulled over to the off ramp and stopped trying to psychoanalyze Dean. She had to focus on getting to the addresses she had. One was Jen's sister and the other two were friends. She had decided to start with the sister, thinking that she might know more. It might be a long shot either way.
When she got to the address, she drove down a little farther and parked in front of a neighbor's house underneath a weeping willow with branches so low they nearly touched her car. She cracked the windows and then turned the car off.
Lydia checked her mirror. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun which was a way she never wore it and she had done her makeup differently too. She had gone with thicker eyeliner and twice the mascara. She pulled out never-used tube of bright red lipstick. It had been a gift from Savannah who thought Lydia would look gorgeous with darker lips. Lydia knew from experience that most shades of red lip color made her look like Snow White's evil stepmother.
Hopefully with her hair back, the red lips wouldn't have the same effect. She put it on and had to stare at herself for a moment. She barely looked like herself, and she thought about wiping it all off but she knew better. Even though she wasn't trying to be completely disguised, she wanted to look different. She had accomplished that.
She looked in the side mirror and caught sight of someone leaving the house she was watching. The woman headed for a car parked across the street. It was time for action.
Home
Cara folded the last box and jammed it into the recycle canister, forcing it in and closing the lid. Hopefully, Dean didn't have anything to recycle, because if he did it wasn't going to fit. She went back into the house pretending not to see the neighbors watching her.
They weren't the friendliest bunch. Back in her neighborhood—her old neighborhood—people were…well, neighborly. When someone moved in, it was almost a contest to see who could meet the new people first. Bonus points if you brought a meal that they liked or they invited you in.
Not here. The houses were even more beautiful, and the lake so gorgeous. Dean's new house was across the street and had a view to die for.
Cara wanted to bring the girls over to see, but she hadn't even told anyone that she had moved out. And they would probably tell Lydia, anyway. Dean would be pissed if she found out. He'd managed to keep his condo a secret from her all that time.
When she had packed her things into the moving truck, Cara discovered that it wasn't a moving truck. His friend had brought a truck with a huge logo of a charity on every side. The neighbors probably thought they were donating a bunch of stuff, and no doubt had been proven right when Ethan moved in the furniture to replace what Cara had taken.
No one would ask any questions.
Cara closed the front door and looked around. Even though she had filled the truck, the house was sparse. She had barely packed enough things to fill an apartment—a small one. The previous owners had also left things dirty and messy. She'd had to scrub the fridge, but at least they'd left one.
The main bathroom was what she had put off, but now it was the only thing left. Dean was due back soon and she wanted the house to be nice when he saw it for the first time. The ones he had actually looked at in person had already been purchased. It was no wonder this one hadn't been, but once she cleaned the gross messes, it was beautiful.
She went upstairs and stood by the largest window in the house, the one that overlooked the lake. There was also a deck, which Cara found odd since it was in the front of the house, but that was where the view was. She didn't feel like having any of the neighbors watch her, so she leaned against the window sill and watched the waves.
After a while, some kids ran into the water, disrupting the wave pattern. She could hear their squeals and shouts through the window. She watched for a few more minutes until her lower back started to ache.
Cara went into the bedroom and looked at the bed—the one that had been in the guest room at Ethan's house. It had never really been her house. Not with the prenuptial. How had she ever been so naive to think that she could have truly had a happily ever after when she had to sign one of those?
Ethan's parents didn't trust her because of where she was from, but that didn't mean he had to listen to them by agreeing to the form. Was he glad that he had?
Tears stung at her eyes. She really hadn't meant to hurt him, and after that first time with Dean, Cara had promised herself that she would never go back to him. But then after she told Dean about the pregnancy, she couldn't stop herself. Was it because of the excitement or knowing that her baby was his?
Why hadn't Ethan confronted her? Asked her about it? For all he knew, a miracle had occurred and he had been treated his wife like trash. Why hadn't she thought to say that when she was arguing with him?
Cara took a deep breath. It didn't matter anymore. It was over, and she was starting over with Dean.
Or was she? Was he only letting her stay there? If he planned on staying with Cara to start a family, would he end it with Lydia? Or would he lead a double life?
Cara leaned back against the pillow and closed her eyes. She repositioned herself, trying to ease the back pain, but it wasn't helping. It seemed to get worse, actually. And that wasn't the only thing that hurt, either. She stretched her legs and arms. Everything below her neck and above her waist hurt—or at least that's how it felt. She was only about halfway, so it was bound to only get worse.
Her heavy eyelids finally helped her to fall asleep. Cara's body felt better as she drifted off. A smile tugged at her lips as the warm sleepiness overtook everything.
The sound of the front door opening woke Cara. She sat up in a groggy stupor, confused at first. Then she remembered that Dean was back in town and the real estate agent had left the keys at his office for him after meeting Cara when she moved in.
She stretched and tried to pull herself out of the mental fog, but found herself stuck. She must have been in the middle of a really deep sleep.
Dean was downstairs, walking around. She could hear his shoes tapping on the hardwood floors. Cara tried to get off the bed, but her body refused to cooperate. She had imagined greeting him at the door with a big hug and an even bigger kiss. So much for that.
Cara slapped her right cheek and then her left. It didn't help. She was going to be groggy when she saw Dean, and there was nothing she could do about it.
He appeared in the doorway and smiled when he looked at her. "Did I wake you?"
"I was busy cleaning. I wan
ted it to be nice when you got here."
Dean shook his head. "I told you to wait. I would take care of the messes. Or better yet, hire the housekeeper to come here, too."
"Like I said, I didn't want you to come home to that." Cara stretched again. "Besides, wouldn't you worry about the maid saying something to Lydia?"
"She knows who signs her checks. Just relax." He rubbed his palm across her forehead.
Cara closed her eyes. It was so nice to be with Dean. To be taken care of.
"You're so cute when you're tired." He kicked his shoes off and slid into the bed next to her and wrapped his arms around her. "How are you and my baby?" He rubbed her stomach.
Cara's heart fluttered and she opened her eyes. "We're good. Just tired."
He placed his lips on hers. "Let's rest then. I'm tired from the plane ride, too." He helped her to lean back, keeping his arm around her. "You must be tired if the house was in half as bad of shape as you told me. I didn't see a speck of dirt anywhere."
"Good." Cara rubbed the back of his hand. "That's what I wanted."
"Where did you learn to clean like that? I've only seen professionals that meticulous."
"It's not a big deal." From a young age, Cara had been cleaning worse messes. Her mom had gone through more boyfriends than she could count, and most of them had been abusive drunks. They often left a trail of broken items and blood before they passed out or stumbled out to the yard to pick a fight with a neighbor.
More times than she could count, Cara had cleaned up after them so her mom wouldn't have to. Not just that, but she didn't want her mom to see how bad it really was. Since leaving home, Cara wished she hadn't done so much to protect her mom—what she needed was to see how things really were and wake up.
Dean pulled some of Cara's hair away from her face. "What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing. I'm just glad to be here with you." At least he didn't treat women like her mom's boyfriends.
"Mmm. Me too." He kissed her again. "Hey…was that the baby?"
Cara had forgotten that his hand was still on her stomach. "Yeah. When I rest, he parties."
"He?"
"It's better than saying 'it.'"
He sat up and rubbed both hands around her belly. "There it is again."
"Like I said, a real party animal." Warmness ran through Cara as she watched Dean's expressions when he felt the baby move.
"That's really something. How long has this been going on?"
"On the outside? Not too long. I should probably write this stuff down. It's hard to remember everything. But I'm just not the journaling type."
"Don't worry about it, then. No need to add anything else for you to worry about."
"But I need a job and health insurance and—"
"You just need to take care of yourself, darling. This place is your home, and I'll leave one of my credit cards. Get groceries online if you want. Consider the insurance taken care of. I'll add you to my policy. I'm sure Ethan's will still cover you through month's end, no matter how unhappy that makes him."
Cara's entire body relaxed at the news. "That's such a relief. Thank you, Dean."
"What else would you expect?"
"I wasn't sure what you would do, to be honest. I mean, this is obviously not the ideal situation."
He shook his head. "That it's not, but I know how to make the best of something that on the surface looks bad. That's how I've managed to work my way through the company and get where I'm at."
Cara leaned her head against Dean's shoulder. "Thank you." She snuggled closer, glad to finally feel taken care of by someone.
Incognito
Lydia hurried across the street before the lady got inside the car. She was glad she chose sensible shoes, because her heels wouldn't have helped her, especially in this heat.
"Wait!"
The woman turned toward Lydia, her hazel eyes widening.
"Are you Jen's sister? Angela?"
"What do you want?" she asked, answering the question.
Lydia stopped about two feet in front of her. "I'm Ashley. I was a friend of Jen's in flight attendant training. We were supposed to meet up for old times' sake not long ago, and then when she didn't show I did some digging and found out what happened."
Angela's eyes narrowed. "Why are you here? Are you the one trying to friend me on Facebook?"
"I am. I need to know what happened to my friend. It was such a shock to hear what happened."
"You keep saying 'what happened,' but you can say it. She was killed—murdered, actually."
Lydia bit her lip. "I'm really sorry for your loss. Do you have time to talk with me?"
"If you didn't notice, I'm heading out now. How did you find my home address anyway?"
"Phone book."
Angela's eyebrows came together. "I'm not in it."
"Well, I'm sorry to say, but you're in several online."
"Why do they keep doing this? I keep telling those people to keep my information off their sites."
Lydia took a step back. "I'm sorry for bothering you. I just wanted to find out what happened with Jen." She turned around.
"Okay."
Was it really that easy? Lydia turned back around slowly. "You'll speak with me?"
"I'll meet you at that Mexican restaurant near Fourth and Stewart in an hour. You know where that is?"
"No, but I'll find it."
Angela unlocked her car with a remote and got in, not looking at Lydia.
Lydia went back to her car and watched Angela drive away in the rear view mirror. When she was out of sight, Lydia put the cross-street into the GPS and saw that it was only a few minutes away. Lydia turned on the car and then blasted the AC. Just standing in the sun for those few short minutes almost had her in a sweat.
She was about to pull out into the street when someone tapped a window on the passenger side. Lydia looked over to see a girl who didn't look old enough to be out of college. She had thick, curly red hair falling into her face. She indicated for Lydia to roll down the window.
Lydia did. "Yes?"
"Were you asking about Jen?"
"Yeah. You knew her?"
She nodded. "What do you want to know?"
"I'm trying to find out what happened. You know, more than what's online."
"Yeah, totally. Come to my house, and I'll tell you what I know."
It almost seemed too easy, but Lydia would take it. "Okay." She cut the engine and got out of the car. "Some heat wave, huh?"
The girl smiled. "I love it. My name's Tessa." She held out her hand.
Lydia took it and shook. "Ashley."
"Come on." Tessa led Lydia to a house across the street. It was a split level, like all of the two-stories in the neighborhood. The rest were quaint little ramblers.
It reminded Lydia of the neighborhood some of her friends from school had lived in when she was younger. Lydia had loved getting away from the trailer park to spend time in a real house for a while.
Tessa opened the door and the smell of ramen noodles hit Lydia.
"I just made some lunch. Hungry?" Tessa asked, closing the door behind them.
"No thanks. Want me to take my shoes off?"
Tessa looked at her like Lydia was an alien. "Why? Come on in. Hope you don't mind if I eat in front of you."
"Go ahead." Lydia looked at the pictures that covered the walls. It looked like a typical happy suburban family. She could have been walking into the house of any of her friends from childhood. She wanted to get into Angela's house and see if she could get more ideas about what Jen's life had been like.
Lydia sat at the kitchen table. Tessa poured the steaming noodles from a pot into a bowl and then sat across from Lydia. "Jen used to babysit me, and then I walked her dog when I got older. Angie kept the dog when she was out of town, which was like all the time."
"Where's the dog now?"
"No one knows." Tessa slurped some noodles, one splashing onto her nose.
Lydia raised an ey
ebrow. "How's that?"
"Brittney disappeared the same time Jen was killed. She probably had the dog with her and she ran away after Jen… well, you know. When she was killed."
"Did Jen take the dog with her a lot?"
Tessa shrugged. "Sometimes."
"What do you think happened?" Lydia asked. "Was she seeing someone?"
"She was talking about some guy named Doug for a while, but he was at night school taking a test when she went missing, so he didn't do it."
"Do you have any theories?" Lydia leaned back in the chair, trying to act as natural as she could.
"Probably someone she met through work. She traveled the world, and she loved staying in different places. Jen always told me how exciting it was to meet so many different types of people. But you probably know all about that, right? I heard you say you were in school with her."
"Uh, I was laid off so I'm kind of in between jobs at the moment. That's why I was going to hang out with Jen when I did."
"It took you this long to find her family?"
Lydia's stomach twisted. She had obviously not put enough thought into the story if a college kid was able to find the holes so easily. "Well, I didn't want to bother anyone at first. If one of my relatives were murdered, I wouldn't want random people she knew contacting me. So I waited."
Tessa slurped some more noodles. "That makes sense. Yeah, they haven't wanted to talk with anyone about it. If anyone says anything about Jen to Angie, she runs off. She barely talks to me. I don't know, I think it just hurts to think about her. That's how I'd feel, I guess."
Lydia nodded. "I can see that. It'll be interesting to see what she has to say when I meet with her. That Doug guy, did you meet him?"
"No, but the cops talked to him. They weren't serious, and there was a whole class full of people who were with him the whole time. You know what I think?"
"What?"
"I think it's someone she met while traveling. I mean, if you think about it, it makes sense. Someone who was only here for a day or something would have the opportunity and means, and would be able to get out of town before anyone even knew what happened to her. Then no one would suspect him."
Dean's List Page 10