Secrets, Lies & Love

by Roseanne Dowell

  She slid out of bed, and stood, listening. Waiting. For what? Another sound? For someone to come barging into her? God, she hoped not. Still no sounds came from the stairway. She took another step toward the door, stopped and listened again. Another floorboard creaked. Someone was in the dining room. What to do? Call 911? Look around? What if it was her imagination? The only sound was the swish of the curtain moving from the breeze. The smell of fresh air wafted through the room. She took a breath and let it out slowly. Probably just her imagination. Even Aunt Beth used to hear noises. Maybe just the house settling. A hundred year old house creaked and groaned for no reason.

  Brushing her hair out of her eyes, she sneaked toward the doorway. The floorboards creaked beneath her feet. Damn! Amazed she could stand, let alone walk, her knees and hands shook so hard, it was a wonder they held her up. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. She cursed herself for not buying portable phones.

  Standing still, she listened. The only sound was the beating of her heart and heavy breathing. Why was she such a coward? Thunderstorms, creepy crawlers like snakes and numerous other things always frightened her, but her biggest fear was waking up and finding someone standing over her. The very thought of it terrified her.

  Where the fear came from, she had no idea, but right now it felt close to becoming a reality. If someone was in the house, they could attack her at any moment. Standing against the doorway, she took another breath. If someone was going to attack, they probably would have done so by now. This was silly.

  Yet she sensed a presence. Still not comfortable calling 911, she edged through the doorway. It would be better to be safe than sorry, but she didn't want to be embarrassed by a false alarm. Stupid, maybe, but she'd always been that way. Hated making a fool of herself. If no one was there, how could she explain? Still…this time her instincts told her someone was in the house. Something told her to make the call. Another creaking downstairs confirmed it. Someone was definitely in the house.

  Meghan hurried back to bed and lifted the receiver from the rotary phone. Fumbling with the dial in the dark, she cursed for not replacing the old relic and prayed she'd find the correct holes. Blowing out her breath and hoping what she dialed was right, despite her trembling hands, she spun the dial for the last digit to complete the call. Somehow it worked

  "911, what is your emergency?"

  "S..someone is in the house." Meghan's voice came out a little more than a whisper.

  "Okay, ma'am. Stay on the line. I'll send someone out to you."

  The click of the back door sounded. "I…I think they just left. I heard the door close."

  "That's okay, ma'am. Stay where you are until the police get there."

  Meghan set the receiver down, eased off the bed, tiptoed to the doorway and listened. Nothing, not a sound. Whoever had been here was gone. The police were going to think she was crazy. Out in the hall, she stopped and listened again. Nope, definitely gone.

  A few seconds later, sirens screamed and a car screeched into her drive. Returning to the bed, Meghan picked up the receiver. "The police are here now." She hung up and hurried downstairs to let them in. Just great, tomorrow morning everyone and their brother were going to know she called the police.

  Pete Sanders stood in her kitchen. "Someone broke in all right. The lock's jimmied." Pete jiggled the lock.

  Meghan nodded and let out another breath. Not that it made her feel better that someone actually broke in, but at least they knew she wasn't imagining things.

  "Any idea who has it in for you? First the body, now this."

  Meghan stared at him. "I don't even know anyone here. Why would someone have it in for me?" The idea was insane.

  "Well, it's mighty peculiar two incidents in one week. Looks to me like someone doesn't like that you're back."

  "I'm not sure I understand. What does the dead body have to do with someone breaking in? For that matter what does either of them have to do with the fact I'm back?"

  "That's what I'm aiming to find out." Pete looked around the kitchen and headed for the dining room. "Where's your boyfriend tonight?"

  Meghan wanted to wipe the silly smirk off Pete's face. "I don't have a boyfriend."

  "Could've fooled me." He stopped next to the buffet and bent down. "Looks like fingerprints in the dust. Anything missing?"

  Meghan looked around the dining room. Nothing appeared out of place. "It doesn't look like it, but that drawer wasn't opened when I went to bed." In fact, the drawer hadn't been opened for several days.

  "Okay, I'll get a fingerprint crew in here and check things out. Doubt we'll find anything, but you never know. You better find a place to stay until you get that lock fixed."

  "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be fine."

  "Sorry, you can't stay here. It's a crime scene."

  "But I don't have any place to go." It wasn't like she was going to touch anything. Meghan knew better than that. Besides the fingerprint crew would be in and out before she'd even get dressed.

  "Call your boyfriend. I'm sure he'll be happy to oblige."

  "I told you I don't have a boyfriend." Before the words were out of her mouth, Patrick appeared.

  "Are you okay? What happened?" He crossed the room in a few easy strides. "Pete, what the hell's going on here?"

  "Someone broke in. I was just telling Meghan she needs to stay someplace until she can get that lock fixed."

  "That's not a problem, she can stay with me." Patrick leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Are you sure you're okay?"

  The warmth of Patrick's lips sent a tingly sensation down to her toes. "I can't stay with you." That's all she needed. Nope, no way. Being under the same roof with him couldn't possibly work.

  "Why not?" Patrick shot her a quizzical look.

  "Why not?" Meghan fumbled for words. Why not indeed? "What would the neighbors say?" As if they didn't have enough to talk about.

  "Who cares about the neighbors? Good grief, Meghan, you can't stay here. What if this guy comes back?"

  "I'll be fine. I'm sure he won't come back."

  "Uh, excuse me for interrupting, but like I said, this here's a crime scene, and you can't stay here."

  "Oh, come on, Pete. You know it won't take more than ten minutes for the fingerprint guys. I'll stay out of the way. In fact, I'll go upstairs."

  "No can do. The guys won't be here 'til morning." Pete crossed his arms and smiled.

  Meghan swore he was enjoying himself.

  "If you don't want to stay with Patrick, you can always go to Aunt Clara's."

  "Aunt Clara's, of course. I'll stay there tonight."

  "Are you really going to wake her up at this hour? Be sensible, Meghan. Come across the street. You can sleep in the guest room. In the morning, you can make me breakfast."

  Patrick's wink suggested something more than breakfast. Heat rushed to her face as she caught sight of Pete's smirk.

  "Sounds like a pretty good deal to me. I'd take him up on it. Whatever you're gonna do, hurry up about it. I have better things to do than stand here with the two of you."

  Meghan shrugged and gave in. What else could she do? "Let me run up and get some clothes for morning." Lord, the last thing she wanted to do was spend the night with Patrick. Still, if she stayed in the guest room what could it hurt?

  Mildred met them at the door. The rich aroma of coffee wafted from the kitchen. "Is everything all right? I made coffee. I figured you'd need it."

  "Everything's fine. Mildred, this is Meghan Shelby. Meghan, my housekeeper, Mildred Tupper."

  "Nice to meet you." Mildred smiled. "Come in the kitchen and have some coffee. I have a feeling it's going to be a long night. If you're anything like me, you're not going to get a wink of sleep. What happened over there?"

  "Thanks. I could use some coffee." Thank goodness Mildred was here. That should prevent some of the gossip.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Meghan stretched, turned over and opened her eyes. What time was it? Sunlight filtered in throu
gh the thin, gauzy curtains. For one brief moment, she forgot where she was. Memory of the previous night quickly returned. Easing off the bed, she looked around the bright room for a clock, finally spotting one on the dresser. Almost nine o'clock. Granted, it had been a late night, and she hadn't fallen asleep until three or four, but she hadn't slept this late since high school.

  Not a sound came from the rest of the house, but the rich aroma of coffee wafted up from the kitchen. At least Mildred was up. The thought of facing Patrick alone didn't thrill her. Maybe because they were in his house, she didn't feel comfortable here. Glancing around the room, her gaze came to rest on a suitcase next to the dresser. Payton's? From its size, it looked like Payton planned to stay for a long time, if not forever. This complicated things. Did Patrick still have feelings for his ex-wife?

  Meghan pushed the thought from her mind. She didn't have time to think about it now. She needed to get dressed and go home. There was still a lot of work to do. Today she wanted to tackle the hall closet and buffet. Sighing, she changed into her jeans and headed downstairs.

  Olivia met her on the steps. "Daddy told me not to wake you. I didn't, did I?"

  Meghan smiled. "No, but I wish you had."

  "Why?"

  "Because I don't like to sleep so late."

  "Daddy said you were up late so you needed your sleep."

  "Well, I guess I did. Thank you for not waking me."

  "Mrs. Tupper is making waffles. Do you like waffles?"

  "I love waffles."

  "Good, 'cause I was just coming to see if you were awake yet." Olivia turned and ran down the steps.

  Meghan followed Olivia downstairs. Looked like just a quick cup of coffee was out of the question, waffles were her one breakfast weakness. She could have passed on bacon and eggs or even pancakes and omelets. The heavenly aroma of sausage floated from the kitchen.

  "Good morning. We didn't wake you, did we?" Patrick poured two cups of coffee and handed her one.

  "No, but I wish you had. I have a lot to do today."

  "You're not going to do anything until Pete releases the crime scene. I thought after breakfast we'd go buy you a new lock."

  Meghan pulled out a chair and sat next to Olivia. May as well enjoy the breakfast. Wasn't much else she could do. "I thought I'd call Harry and see if he could put a new one in for me."

  "Maybe you forgot today is Sunday. Not too many people want to work on Sundays. Besides, we'll just shoot down to the Sam's Hardware Store, and I can install it. I am somewhat handy."

  "Can I go too, Daddy?" Olivia said as Mildred set a plate of waffles on the table.

  "Sure you can." Patrick put some on Olivia's plate and poured syrup on top. "As long as Ms Shelby doesn't mind."

  "You don't mind, do you, Ms Shelby?"

  Pete knocked on the screen door and walked in, preventing her from answering Olivia. Mind, not hardly, having Olivia along was a great idea. Anything to keep her from being alone with Patrick.

  "Looks like I'm just in time for breakfast." Pete walked over and poured himself a cup of coffee.

  "Help yourself, Pete, there's plenty more coming." Mildred took another plate from the cupboard and set it in front of him.

  "What's going on, Pete? Is the fingerprinting crew finished at my place?"

  Pete stabbed a stack of waffles with his fork. "They're over there now. Shouldn't take them long. I doubt they'll find anything. Those prints on the buffet looked pretty smudged."

  "So, I can go home soon?"

  "Soon's they're done."

  "Does that mean we can't go to the store?" Olivia piped up.

  "We're still going to the store."

  "Can we stop and see Mommy?"

  The question startled Meghan, and immediately Pete perked up. Great, now that was going to be all over town by this afternoon. The fact she spent the night while Payton was in the hospital would give the gossip mongers something to talk about all day. She pushed back her chair, picked up her plate and carried it to the sink. Good thing she'd eaten most of it before Pete got here. Her appetite suddenly disappeared, and she didn't want to hear Patrick's answer. "I'm going home. Thanks for letting me stay here. I'll call Harry to fix the lock."

  Patrick shoved his chair back, and next thing she knew he blocked the doorway. "I thought we already discussed that. I told you I'll fix the lock."

  "You better take him up on that, Harry's out of town. Won't be back 'til late next week." Pete stuffed a forkful of waffles into his mouth.

  Meghan threw her hands up. "Okay, come by when you're ready. I need to do some stuff."

  "Be there in a few." Patrick leaned down and planted a kiss on her cheek. Friendly type kiss, nothing special, yet it sent a spark through her body.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Thankfully, after Patrick installed the lock, Olivia got restless and insisted on going home. For some reason Meghan didn't want to be around him. Once they left, she tackled the buffet. How her aunt managed to fill the drawers with so much junk was beyond her. She found almost a hundred dollars between a packet of receipts. Again, she ran across the memory card, looked at it and set it in the back of the drawer. Whatever it was would have to wait. Time to tackle that closet.

  Meghan stood and stared at the closet. Lord, where to start. Stuff was so crammed inside, if she moved anything it might all come crashing down. Starting on the top shelf and working her way down seemed the most sensible. After getting the ladder from the kitchen, she set it up as close as possible and climbed up three steps. A stack of hats, covered in tissue paper, sat nearest the front. After climbing down, she set them on the dining room table and opened the tissue. Hats of every shape, color, and size nestled inside each other. One in particular caught her attention. A man's baseball cap. What was that doing in here? Meghan pulled it out of the stack. A card fell out.

  "What's this? A sweetest day card."

  My Darling Beth. All my love, Steven. Inside the card were five crisp twenty dollar bills. Aunt Beth obviously had a beau. Why should that surprise her? Maybe because she always thought of Aunt Beth as an old maid. "Wonder who Steven was? And why all this money?" Meghan turned the hat over in her hand. None of this made sense. Obviously, she didn't know as much about her aunt as she thought. Shrugging, she turned her attention back to the closet.

  * * *

  "Damn it!" Meghan kicked the papers and books out of the way and rubbed her head. Another mess to go through. Last weekend, when she finished cleaning the hall closet, she thought she was done. Who knew she'd find such a mess in the bedrooms. It was going to take forever to clean this place out, and she still had the tower room. So much for saving the best for last. If she had any brains she would have done the worst rooms first, while she had the energy.

  Just cleaning this place up took more effort than she imagined. At least she stopped the town council from tearing it down. Although right now she wasn't so sure that was the smartest thing to do. She sat back on her heels and looked around the room.

  Maybe the closet wasn't the best place to start. Maybe she should tackle the stacks of papers and books on the dressers and night stands. Make some room to stack things from the closet. Damn, she was tired. Tired of going through all the papers and books Aunt Beth stashed away for what looked like a hundred years.

  Hell, she thought the dining and living rooms were bad. It took all weekend to go through the buffet and hall closet, not to mention the bookshelf and desk.

  "Ms Shelby," someone called from downstairs.

  What now? Meghan pulled herself to her feet. Couldn't the painters make a single decision without checking with her every five minutes?

  "What?" Meghan knew she sounded crabby, but right now she really didn't care. It was the fifth time today they bothered her. Stupid things like what color did she want the primer, gray or white. Who cared what color primer, they were just going to paint over it anyway. Guess that's what she got for hiring cheap labor. High school kids. Okay they weren't professionals but good
grief, couldn't they use some common sense?

  One day off - that's all she wanted - one day to kick back, lie around and do absolutely nothing. But that wasn't going to happen. She couldn't afford it. Maybe moving in to save money wasn't such a good idea.

  She brushed herself off and went to see what the boys needed now.

  "Sorry to bother you again," Sonny, the spokesman for the group said. "But Jerry and Albee came in and wanted to know if they could help. Albee's pretty good at trimming."

  "Oh, yeah, sure. Maybe they can start in the living room. Find them paint brushes and rollers and go to it." Meghan hoped her tone sounded less harsh. "Oh, and if anyone else comes in and wants to help, just point them in the right direction. I'll leave you in charge." Hopefully, that would solve the problem. Now back to the bedroom.

  Meghan stood at the entrance. The bed looked so inviting. What she'd give for a ten minute nap. She shook the thought from her mind and tackled the closet again, going through every piece of clothing to check for money. What made Aunt Beth stash money like that? She folded each item of clothing and put it in a box. One of the churches was having a rummage sale next month and she planned to drop everything off next week.

  What in the world? Meghan pulled out a shirt. A man's bowling shirt. What was this doing in Aunt Beth's closet? Did it go with the baseball cap and card she found downstairs? Did Aunt Beth have a secret beau? The name Steven was embroidered on the pocket. That's the same name on the Sweetest Day card. It struck her as odd that no one ever mentioned that Aunt Beth had a boyfriend. Meghan wondered who Steven was and what happened to him.

  Hanging the shirt back in the closet, she decided to keep it, just like the baseball cap and card. Silly, but Aunt Beth kept them all these years? Holding on to them for a while longer wouldn't make much difference. It wasn't like they took up that much room.

  It was time to have a talk with Aunt Clara. If anyone would know about Aunt Beth it was her. The woman knew everything about everyone.