The open-handed slap whistled out of the blackness, catching her across the face and ear. She reeled against the bedroom dresser. A stream of profanity poured from her husband’s mouth, sending terror through every fiber of her being. She screamed as his calloused hands reached for her.
JACKIE JERKED AWAKE, bolting upright on the bed. Tremors shook her body while her breathing came in short, choppy gasps. At least, she thought shakily, she hadn’t screamed out loud this time.
She replaced the cast on her ankle, reached for her crutches and swung from the bed. If only she didn’t have to face an entire household full of people right away.
Schools were delayed two hours due to road conditions, so the children claimed her attention even before her first cup of coffee. If her pounding headache showed or anyone noticed the fine tremor in her hands, no one commented.
Remnants of the dream left her shaky. She couldn’t force food past the fear that continued to jam the back of her throat. Oggie’s death had acted as a catalyst for the return of her nightmares, even though she’d only met the young man once at Donnie’s funeral.
“Come on, Jackie, we’ll show you how to use the CD-ROM,” Todd coaxed.
Jackie followed the children into J.D.’s den, grateful to be away from his discerning gaze.
Todd had an intuitive understanding of computer programs. He was patient and endearing as he and Heather tried to teach her some basics.
“Bus in ten minutes,” J.D. warned a short time later. “They haven’t driven you crazy yet?” he asked Jackie as the children scampered off to collect their schoolbooks.
“Not at all. They’re so smart it’s scary.”
“Tell me about it.”
He stood much too close to her again, but she couldn’t bring herself to move away. She inhaled the light, spicy scent of him, aware of the broad wall of his chest. If she reached out she could touch his freshly shaven cheek—not that she would, of course, but…
“I called a locksmith for you,” J.D. said. “He’s going to meet us at your house around one. He’s also going to bring some information on a security system I think you should take a look at.”
Jackie tensed, immediately annoyed by his presumptuousness. “I can pick up a telephone myself, J.D. And I can’t afford a security system.”
“Ben says there’ve been a lot of robberies in the past few months.”
“Ben?”
“Thompkins. The police officer—”
She nodded, cutting him off with a wave of her hand that brushed against his impeccably tailored suit. “Doubting Thompkins. I know who you mean.”
That elicited a reluctant chuckle. “He’s a good cop, Jackie. He’s just doing his job.”
“And what is it you’re doing, J.D.?”
Irritation flashed in his eyes. “At least look at the security system with an open mind.”
Her headache pounded with renewed energy. “My mind is always open. It’s my pocketbook that’s closed.”
He grew larger and more intimidating, somehow, as he leaned toward her. “I can lend you—”
“Absolutely not.”
“Will you stop being so obstinate?”
“As soon as you stop being so pushy.”
“Pushy?” His outraged expression was almost comical. Heather called out before he could say another word.
“Daddy! I can’t find my gloves!”
Jackie wasn’t cowed by his glare. Unlike her former husband, J.D. knew how to control his temper.
“I’ll be right there, Heather,” he called, calmly.
He started to reach for her again, but she turned away. “Go, before they miss the bus.”
“This conversation isn’t over, Jackie.”
HE WAS WRONG. The telephone rang as the children went out the door and J.D. found himself dealing with work he couldn’t push aside. It wasn’t until Aunt Dottie called him for an early lunch that he even saw Jackie again. Dottie’s bridge group was meeting across the street, so she left the two of them with a cheery wave. Jackie didn’t appear thrilled to be alone with him.
“I have to go to the office,” he told her without preamble. “I have a meeting I can’t get out of.”
“Fine. If you’ll just drop me at the house—”
He cut her off. “I want to be there when you talk to the locksmith.”
“Excuse me, but who put you in charge of my life?”
J.D. paused, a soupspoon halfway to his mouth.
“I believe the locksmith is coming to my house to view my locks and discuss my security problems.”
He swallowed the soup to keep his twitching lips from breaking into a smile. The lady had spunk. “You’re going to be difficult, aren’t you?”
“If you mean I’m not going to let some arrogant male I barely know treat me like one of his children, then, yes…I plan to be very difficult, indeed.”
“Jackie, I wasn’t trying to—”
“Control my life?” she interrupted sweetly. “That’s probably because you aren’t looking at this from my perspective.” She blotted her lips and set down her napkin.
J.D. swallowed his annoyance along with the soup. She had a valid point. He was pushing the bounds of their tenuous friendship.
“Tell me something, do you have any family here in Maryland?”
Instantly, her body stiffened. “No.”
Innocuous family questions were off-limits, too? Why? “What about in Indiana?”
“My grandmother is dead.” The terse answer held a wealth of pain.
He laid a sympathetic hand over hers. “What about your parents? No brothers or sisters?”
Jackie pulled her hand free. Anxiety showed clearly in her rigid posture. She didn’t want to answer these questions, but grudgingly, she did.
“I have two older brothers,” she replied, her words only slightly less clipped. “One lives in Germany and the other in New Mexico. They were already grown and out of the house when my parents found themselves expecting me.”
She toyed with the edge of the place mat and her discomfort made his heart ache.
“What happened?”
Jackie glared. “They went out to the cabbage patch one morning and there I was.”
He shook his head, but added resiliency to her spunk. “I imagine it’s hard on your parents with you living all these miles away from them, too.”
“They prefer it that way,” she answered grimly.
“Why?” he asked.
Her brown eyes flashed. “None of your business.”
He pushed aside his dishes along with all pretense of eating. “Probably not, but I’ve a feeling this is important”
“To whom? My family has nothing to do with me. Nothing, at all.”
Cautiously, he probed the wound he’d uncovered. “Because you moved here?”
“Because I was a big disappointment to them, all right?” Words tumbled from her lips as if the layers of buried emotions churning inside her had suddenly burst free. “Because Larry was their handpicked choice and I walked out Worse, I filed charges. A good wife, a dutiful wife would have remained—a devoted doormat.”
He frowned and rested his fingers on her forearm. “What about your brothers?”
Jackie tried to pull her arm free, but J.D. wouldn’t release her.
“My brothers are strangers. I barely saw either of them growing up.”
“But you had your grandmother,” he said softly.
Her expression gradually calmed. “Yes. I always had Grandma. She used to say my mother had been born without a backbone. That’s why my father suited her so perfectly.”
And that explained Jackie’s fierce independence. Her formative years must have been a battleground. “I’ll bet Grandma didn’t like Larry, either.”
He released his grip. Jackie slowly relaxed. “No. I’ve often wished I’d listened to her, but I was so flattered when this older man from next door started paying me attention.”
“He lived next door?”
“He rented
the house when I was in high school. He was always doing things for my parents—carrying in groceries, helping Dad work on the car. Everybody loved Larry.”
Jackie’s eyes closed and her voice dropped to a husky pitch. “The first time he hit me I was so shocked.” She opened her eyes and her voice deepened with contempt. “His tearful apology came with a necklace. Diamond and ruby chips in the shape of a heart.”
J.D. fought growing anger on her behalf. He wondered if she’d ever told anyone beside her grandmother the painful truth behind her marriage.
“The next time he hit me I went to my parents. My father looked at my bruised face and said I should apologize to Larry.”
J.D. couldn’t prevent a low rumble of anger.
Jackie lifted her chin. “Grandma gave me refuge and helped me deal with the authorities, but we lived in constant fear.”
Not normally a violent person, J.D. wished for five uninterrupted minutes with her ex-husband. He couldn’t do a thing about her parents, but if he ever got his hands on Zalewoski…
“I’m sorry,” he offered.
“I’m not looking for pity.”
J.D. nodded. “I know.”
“The past is over.”
“Unless he’s found you again.”
The fear that never lurked far from her eyes flashed to life once more.
The telephone rang.
J.D. pushed back his chair and snapped a greeting at the person on the other end. Carol’s voice filled his ear with the newest work problem as Jackie quickly began stacking plates, a fine tremor in her slim fingers.
JACKIE WISHED SHE hadn’t exposed so much of her past. Until now, only Bessie had known her history. She worried that J.D. would continue his interrogation, but he remained silent during the short ride to her place. His business problems must be distracting him, she decided.
Dread filled her as soon as they turned down her street. Malevolent windows seemed to watch J.D.’s car pull in behind her battered coupe in the driveway. Jackie shivered.
The house was not alive and it was not evil, she told herself as she climbed from the car. No one watched them from within.
Yet the crawly feeling wouldn’t go away. She scanned the street, looking for another source.
J.D.’s phone call had made them late. The lanky locksmith stepped from his van at the curb and started forward with a rolling gait. Had it been his stare she felt?
But the stranger only eyed her curiously and greeted J.D. like an old friend. He shook his head over her front-door lock and followed them into the dining room, where he wasted no time launching into his security spiel. Jackie listened, toying with the mail J.D. had plucked from her mailbox. She cringed when the locksmith reached the bottom line.
“Security systems aren’t cheap,” she muttered.
The man called Luke chuckled, displaying a gap between his upper front teeth. “Nope. But we’re doing a booming business with all these robberies lately. People don’t want to take a chance on surprising a burglar in their house.”
How right he was. A burglar or an ex-husband.
“Think about it,” J.D. said softly. “My offer of a loan stands.”
“Don’t you have to get to work?” she demanded.
He glanced at his watch and grimaced. “Yeah. Luke, thanks for the favor. I appreciate you coming out on such short notice. I’ve gotta run, but I should be back before you leave.”
“Why?” she asked.
J.D. gave her a droll look.
Luke glanced from one face to another, then scratched his chin. “No problem, J.D. Anything for a teammate.”
“Don’t tell me you play sports, too?” she asked.
“Softball. Right field,” Luke acknowledged.
“I should have known.” Privately, she was glad. Their friendship made J.D.’s call to him less insulting, and explained the priority her house had been given.
J.D. stood. Before she realized his intent he took her face between his hands and kissed her full on the mouth. “Behave yourself.”
He left before the protest could pass her lips. Luke grinned. “Let me think about the security system,” she told him crisply. “In the meantime, you can start by replacing the locks on the doors.”
As he set to work, she started sorting through her mail. There was a forwarded letter from Brenda, the only friend in Indiana she still kept in touch with. She’d have to write and give Brenda her new address. Jackie started to open the envelope when she spotted what appeared to be a Christmas card bearing yesterday’s postmark.
Odd. The card hadn’t been forwarded. In fact, it had been mailed from the Main Street post office. Bessie, of course. She was the only one who had this address. Jackie set aside the letter and reached for the card. From overhead came a creak followed by a soft thump.
Jackie froze. Chills raced up and down her arms as she lifted her head to stare at the ceiling. No wind to speak of, no ice to crackle and creak. What had made that sound?
Her eyes flew to the hall. Luke whistled a country-western tune off-key as he worked on her front door. The noise hadn’t come from there. It had come from overhead. She waited, heart pounding, for any further sound.
“Here you go, ma’am. I’ll get the back door next, okay?”
Jackie tried to smile, but her lips felt stiff as she took the shiny new keys from his hand.
“Uh, Luke, did you hear that noise a second ago?”
“What noise?”
Her heart beat a rapid tattoo against her chest. “Like something fell. Upstairs.”
He cocked his head at the ceiling and frowned. “You sure you didn’t just hear me changing the lock?”
“I’m sure. It’s probably nothing,” she hastened to assure him, not wanting to look like a paranoid fool.
“I’ll go up and check around if you’d like,” he offered.
Oh, yes. She’d like very much. But there was already a dead elf to account for, she didn’t need a dead locksmith, as well. “I have to go up there, anyway,” she lied. “The noise just…startled me.”
“Why don’t I go up with you and have a look around?”
She knew he saw her obvious relief. “Thank you.”
As they stepped into the hall, he nodded in the direction of the living room. “I see you had a fire.”
Jackie shuddered. She’d avoided looking at that room until now. The missing drape, smoke-stained walls and charred carpeting were hard to miss.
“Yes,” she agreed without explaining further. “The noise came from the spare room on the left,” she told him at the top of the stairs. Luke obediently turned to the room across from the master bedroom.
“Here’s the culprit,” he said immediately. He retrieved something from the floor and turned, holding a small print in his hand.
Jackie took the picture, sick with apprehension. “Pictures don’t just fall off the walls.”
His eyebrows beetled in concern. “They do when the tape lets go. See? Someone hung this using one of those stick-on tape hangers.”
He handed her the tape in question. The once gummy backing was old and brittle.
“These things are worthless. The glue always gives out eventually and then the pictures fall. You’re better off poking a few tiny holes in the wall. Pictures tend to stay up when they’re nailed in place.”
Jackie couldn’t return his smile. She stared at the tape thinking he was probably right, but her adrenaline kept sending her impulses to fight or run. The sense of wrongness wouldn’t go away.
Feeling only slightly foolish with Luke watching, she stepped farther into the room and opened the closet. Empty. Of course it was empty. The picture near the door had simply fallen. No one had brushed against it, jarring it loose. Luke looked puzzled.
“I’m a little jumpy after the fire,” she explained.
“Oh, sure, I understand. Don’t blame you. My wife hates strange noises, too, but these old houses…they’re full of ‘em. If I were you, I’d invest in some nails and rehang all
these pictures.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks.”
She stood in the hall after he went back downstairs, trying to settle her racing heart. She couldn’t do this, she realized. She couldn’t live in this house. She’d never feel safe here again.
Jackie left the bedroom door open to add light to the hall. Maybe opening all the doors might alleviate the sinister feel to this level of the house. She opened her bedroom door and glanced inside. Empty. The picture had fallen as Luke explained. Still, she moved down the hall, opening doors and glancing inside each room, refusing to give in to her desire to check the closets and under the beds.
At the head of the stairs, she found Luke starting up toward her.
“Do you want a new lock on that basement door or do you just want me to rekey it?” he asked. If he found it peculiar that she had a dead bolt on her basement door, at least he didn’t voice his opinion out loud.
Jackie started down the steps, maneuvering the crutches with care. “Whichever is cheaper.”
With a nod, he trundled back down the hall toward the kitchen. She decided to take advantage of Luke’s presence to check out her mysterious basement. She’d feel better after confirming the elf didn’t lay on the cement floor.
While Luke worked at the top of the stairs, she descended carefully. A stack of boxes boldly marked Christmas in black marker, reminded her that she needed to sort the contents for usable decorations. The metal shelves with their assorted odds and ends sat against the far wall opposite the washer and dryer. There was nothing else to see down here. No way in or out of the basement except the steps, unless someone broke through the heavy bubble-glass windows set high in the walls. Why, then, had Bessie’s son put a lock on the door?
Jackie made her way up the open steps carefully, watching where she set each crutch. She smiled at Luke who had moved on to the kitchen lock, and started down the hall. The front door gaped open.
“Luke? Did you leave the front door open?”
He looked up in surprise. She heard his indrawn breath. “No.”
He strode to the front door, flung it all the way open and peered outside. “There’s no one out there. I must not have latched the door when I finished. The wind probably took it.”
Better Watch Out Page 8