The wait for an answer was long this time. Too long. More story spinning?
She sighed. "I hid my things at the cabin. I thought, if my backpack was stolen or if I was arrested, I could go back for them later."
"So they're still there?"
"I assume so, unless somebody found them."
Huh. She'd told him the truth. "Weird instinct, to separate your stuff."
"Honestly, I'd thought through what I would say if I got caught there—that I'd hurt my ankle and didn't have a way to contact anybody. Having a phone on me would have ruined my story. Same went with the iPad. The wallet has money in it, all the money I had left. I couldn't risk it getting stolen or confiscated by the police."
"We need to get that stuff back for you. I'll call Sam, see if she can smooth it over with the homeowner."
Kelsey flicked her gaze to his, a small smile on her lips. "If you just take me over there—"
"You're not breaking in, Kels."
"Such a straight arrow."
"You used to be."
"Lived a lot of life since then."
A life he still knew very little about.
"So Carlos... Your plan is to, what?"
"Catch him."
"How?"
She gazed out the window at the dog, who was barking at the treetops. "I have no idea. They haven't set the next meeting yet, and when they do, I'll have to decipher it. And do it in time. I just don't know..."
He heard the worry in her voice, the despair. "You don't have to do this alone anymore, Kels. I can help you."
She chuckled. "You a good internet stalker?"
"I've learned a lot these last few years." Then he imagined Sam's face. "And I know somebody who's better than I am. It's time to ask for help."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
"I don't want to do this."
As if she hadn't spoken, Eric jogged out the front door.
She stepped outside, hugged herself in the chill, and watched as he leaned in his Jeep and started it up. He returned to the front stoop a moment later.
"Eric, I'm serious. This is a bad idea."
"You have to learn to trust people."
"I don't know these people."
He kissed her on her forehead. "It's going to be okay."
She wiped the spot his lips had touched, trying to brush away that tingly feeling and stay focused. All she managed to do was offend him. He stepped inside. She didn't miss the hurt in his eyes before he turned away.
She followed him in. "How do I know I can trust these people."
"I know them." He stoked the glowing coals, then closed the screen. "You should be able to trust me."
"I do. It's just—"
"You don't." He turned to her, squared his shoulders. "If you did, you'd have come home a long time ago."
"Oh, Eric—"
"Don't 'Oh-Eric' me." His face turned red, and he rounded the chair and stopped a few feet from her. "I'm not a twenty-year-old kid anymore, Kelsey. While you've been running away, singing in clubs and...and filing papers or whatever the heck it is administrative assistants do, I've been catching bad guys. I'm a detective. And a darn good one, too."
The anger in his voice had her stepping back until she bumped into the doorjamb.
He pointed at her, and she froze. "None of that, either. The Kelsey I knew would never back down from a fight."
"I'm not—"
"I would never hurt you. You know that."
"I know. It's just... Can you dial the rage down, please?"
He raked his hand through his hair, turned toward the back door, and checked the lock. Then he marched across the house, passed her, and stood on the stoop again, holding the door open. "Let's go."
"I don't want to do this."
"Get in the car, Kelsey."
She stepped onto the stoop. "You promised to take me to the bus station, if I asked."
He closed the door, slowly, focused on the doorknob. He took a deep breath and faced her. The front stoop was small, and they were close together. Too close. She could smell his aftershave. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and swallowed. "Is that what you want?"
No. Never. But... "I can't do this."
"Do what? Trust me?"
"Trust anybody." How could she make him understand? Her every instinct told her to run.
She thought of Daniel. She had to go. "I've kept this secret a long time..."
He said nothing.
"I think I should..." Her eyes filled with tears, and she looked at the concrete beneath her feet, then at the dog, who was watching the scene with sad eyes from her spot in the backseat of the Jeep. "I need to go."
"No."
"You promised."
"You promised to tell me the truth."
"I did."
"No, you didn't. You told me part of it. But not all of it."
"I told you—"
He stepped closer. "You going to lie to me again, Kelsey? After everything, don't I deserve the truth?"
"I didn't—"
"Kansas City."
What? How did he know? What had she said?
"And you didn't hitchhike to Nutfield."
"I—"
"I know you too well, Kelsey. And your reaction confirms my suspicions. You didn't keep your end of the bargain, and I'm not keeping mine. Now, are you going to walk to the Jeep, or do you want me to carry you?"
She would have stepped back further, but the wrought iron railing trapped her.
No. She wasn't trapped, because Eric would never hurt her, never in a million years. And she could trust him, she knew that. She did trust him, at least intellectually. But the fear churning in her stomach wasn't listening to her intellect.
He lifted his hand, and she flinched.
He sighed and dropped the hand. "Get in the car." He stepped back to give her room to pass. "Please."
Apparently, she didn't have a choice.
She started down the steps, then stopped. She looked up, toward the staircase inside, the room that had been hers. Should she grab her backpack, in case she had to run? She couldn't decide.
"You don't need anything else," he said. "You'll be back here later."
"Fine."
She swiveled, hobbled the short path, and climbed into his passenger seat. Magic sat in the backseat with that happy doggie smile.
Eric slid in beside Kelsey.
The first few minutes, the only sounds came from the engine, the road beneath them, and the dog panting in the backseat.
Kelsey was breaking his heart. Again. She knew that, but there was nothing she could do about it. "I'm sorry," she said.
He reached across the space, took her hand. "Me, too."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Vanessa had learned to love silence.
Her home in Serbia had been small and filled with people. Tata and Mama, of course. Herself, her three little sisters, and her two little brothers. Also, her Tata's parents, and her mama's sister, whose husband had been killed during the war. A city apartment with four bedrooms and eleven people. Even in the dead of night, it was never quiet.
When Tata sent her away, things had not gotten better for young Vojislava. Sad, scared, squabbling girls crammed in close quarters. As she'd moved—away from Serbia and into better, more established organizations, her living conditions hadn't changed much. Lots of girls, very little space, no privacy.
Only when she'd been with Abbas had she been alone, and that had been far from restful. That had been more akin to solitary confinement in a luxurious floating torture chamber.
This, though. This was restful.
Vanessa awoke late on Friday morning, showered, and ate breakfast on the lanai overlooking the ocean. After she'd cleaned up her breakfast dishes and Carlos's—he was already gone—she headed to the beach for a walk.
The beach wasn't empty, of course, but in front of their home, there were very few vacationers. The hotels down the beach were full this time of year, but most people didn't venture down
this far.
The silence was beautiful here. It was a safe silence. A silence like she'd never known.
She imagined bringing a child here, letting him play in the warm water, build sand castles and learn to swim. She'd teach her child to swim the way Tata had taught her.
The burner phone, which she'd kept with her since the night before, dinged with an incoming text. She shielded the screen from the sun and looked at the photos in her message app.
Snapshots taken from far away, through a forest, of a man and a woman. They were standing in front of a house on a tiny stoop. The house was surrounded by trees. She scrolled through the photos until she found close-ups.
The man had turned away from the woman, and she saw his face. Definitely the cop who'd married Kelsey all those years ago. Eric Nolan.
The she found one of the woman. Vanessa had only seen photos of her from a decade before, but...she studied it. Yes. That could be her.
Vanessa rushed back to the house and into Carlos's office. She found the photographs he kept of Kelsey in the top drawer of his desk and compared them.
Kelsey had grown her hair longer and dyed it lighter. But she couldn't change her facial structure, the heart-shaped face with the high cheekbones, those blue eyes. She'd been attractive when Carlos had owned her. She was downright stunning now.
A fissure opened in Vanessa's confidence. Would Carlos want Kelsey again? Would he discard Vanessa for this woman?
No. He hated Kelsey, and beautiful as Kelsey was, Vanessa was younger, much younger, and treated him like her master and benevolent king. Why would he throw her over for a woman who'd stolen his child and run away?
Vanessa was safe.
The words didn't dispel her fear. Regardless of what would happen now, Vanessa had to tell him about Kelsey. And she had to tell him her news, too. He would be pleased to know a baby was on the way. Maybe it would help him keep Kelsey and her kid in perspective.
Vanessa forwarded the photos from the burner phone to hers, then called the private investigator. When he answered, she said, "What have you learned?"
She listened to the man's information—everything there was to know about Eric Nolan, his friends, his associates, his habits. Maybe they could use this. Maybe this would help. Even if it didn't, Carlos would be impressed at all she'd done. He would thank her for it. He would love her for it.
What would it be like to raise another woman's child? Carlos didn't even know if Kelsey had given birth to a boy or a girl. They only knew the child would be with his mother.
Except he or she wasn't with Kelsey. Which was odd.
Vanessa made another call, this one to the private investigator who'd been watching Kelsey's parents' house in Savannah. She'd never spoken to this man before, but Carlos had told her all about his efforts to find Kelsey. When voicemail answered, she left a message. Maybe Kelsey had left the kid with them. Wouldn't that be simple?
When she'd gathered as much information as she could, she started toward her bedroom while she dialed Carlos. She'd better start packing. They'd be leaving for New Hampshire soon.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Twenty minutes later, they pulled up in front of a beautiful home. Kelsey took in the scene. It sat in a clearing nestled in the woods. There was a barn off to one side. Together, the two structures looked as if they'd sat in this spot for a hundred years.
"This is Brady's house," Eric said. "His wife grew up here."
"It's beautiful."
"I think it was built in the late nineteenth century. It's had a lot of updates and additions since then." He parked and pointed at the barn. "Interesting story. There's a tunnel that leads from there"—he pointed at a small room that looked like an addition that jutted out from the barn-side of the house—"to there."
"No kidding? How interesting."
"Rae didn't even know it was there until... Well, that's a story for a different day. But it's a good one."
She opened her car door, but he grabbed her hand before she could get out. "Stay there."
"I can walk."
"I'd like to open your door for you, if you don't mind. My folks would have my hide if they thought I wasn't treating my wife respectfully."
She couldn't help the smile as he jogged around the car. He pulled her door open and helped her out.
"Thank you."
"A pleasure, ma'am." He played up his accent.
"Well, I'll be," she said, playing up hers. "Such manners, even after years among these dirty Yankees."
He chuckled. "You might outta leave the dirty Yankee talk out here. Inside, that'll go over like a hockey puck on a volleyball court. Unless you're talking about the New York Yankees. Then they'll join right in." He offered his arm. "I should have brought your crutches."
"My ankle's better." And crutches would keep him at a distance. She preferred him right here, supporting her, holding her.
They were just about to ring the bell when the door opened. A tall woman with strawberry-blond hair smiled at her and held out her hand. "Hi. I'm Rae Thomas."
Eric said, "Rae, this is Kelsey Nolan, my...wife."
The words were a jolt, though everything he'd said was true. Except the Nolan part—she hadn't ever changed her name legally. She would have, though. If everything had been different.
She shook the woman's hand.
"Come in, come in."
Rae stepped back, and Eric guided Kelsey inside.
"Brady's in the living room," Rae said as the man she'd met the other day, the chief, filled the doorway at the end of the short hall.
He nodded to her. "Nice to see you again, Kelsey."
"You, too, chief."
"Brady, please." He looked over her head to Eric. "But you can call me chief."
"Yes, sir."
Kelsey could hear the humor in her husband's voice. These two seemed to have a good relationship, like they were more than coworkers. They were friends.
It struck her again how different Eric was from when she'd left him, how much of his life she didn't know, probably would never know.
Eric guided her to a sofa on the far side of the room. She gazed out the windows behind it to the backyard. A couple of apple trees stood there, stark and leafless, but still somehow beautiful. She turned and sat. "Your home is lovely."
"Thank you," Rae said. "It's been in my family for generations."
"My mother inherited her family home, too," Kelsey said. "She's never lived outside of Savannah. What a comfort that must be, to have a home like this."
Rae perched on the fireplace hearth and smiled. "I left for about twelve years. I won't leave again, not if I have anything to say about it."
Brady had disappeared up the stairs. He returned holding a child. A little boy with surprisingly dark skin who squealed when he saw the crowd. "Down, down, down," he said.
Brady complied and set the boy on the floor. He toddled toward his mother, then saw Eric and turned to him. "Uncew Ewic."
He held up his pudgy arms, and Eric swung the boy up and onto his hip. "How's my little man?" Eric tickled the boy until he giggled, then sat beside her. "Johnny, this is my wife, Kelsey."
The boy hid his face in Eric's shoulder, and Kelsey nearly cried. Eric was a natural with children. Of course he was, but she'd never seen it. Never witnessed it.
She thought of Daniel, tried not to cry, and said, "Nice to meet you, Johnny."
He peeked up, said, "Hi," and then snuggled again. About ten seconds later, he squirmed, and Eric set him down. He toddled over to Rae, who settled him on her lap.
A knock sounded, the front door opened, and two more people walked in. The first, a short woman with long light brown hair pulled into a ponytail. Behind her, a man about the same height as Brady, maybe six-four, with broad shoulders and a crew cut.
Rae stood, Johnny on her hip, and hugged the woman briefly before she turned. "Kelsey, this is Samantha."
The woman crossed the room, and Kelsey stood and held out her hand to shake. The woman
ignored it and pulled her into a hug.
Kelsey couldn't help the little giggle.
"It's nice to meet you, Kelsey." Sam stepped back but grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "I'm too touchy-feely, I know. But I love Eric, so... I'm thrilled to meet you." She turned to Eric, who'd also stood, and smacked him on the shoulder. "All these years I've been trying to fix you up with women. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't tell anybody."
She hugged him, too, and lowered her voice. Kelsey barely picked up her whispered words. "I'm glad she's here."
The man stood behind her, a small smile on his face. He caught Kelsey's eye and held out his hand. "Garrison Kopp. I'll leave the hugs to Sam."
Kelsey shook his hand, somehow soothed by his steady presence like she hadn't been with Brady. Well, no surprise there, considering Brady'd locked her in a cell.
But he'd done it kindly.
Eric had some nice friends. Kind friends. Real friends, like she hadn't had in years.
Garrison reached past her to shake Eric's hand. "Great to see you."
"You, too. How's Aiden?"
"Doing great." He stepped back and looked at Kelsey. "Aiden is my teenage son." He turned back to Eric and said, "He's staying out of trouble."
"So glad to hear it."
Sam sat on the couch beside Kelsey, and Garrison took the nearest chair. Brady sat in the chair closer to his wife, and they all turned their gaze to Eric.
He cleared his throat.
Sam said, "Oh," and reached into her bag. While she dug around, she said, "I talked to the guy who owns the cabin where you holed up this week. They're not going to press charges."
"They're not?" Tears prickled her eyes, relief, gratitude. "Thank you."
Sam pulled out a plastic sack and handed it to Kelsey. "Your stuff."
Kelsey opened the sack, peeked inside, and saw her iPad, wallet, and cell phone. She turned to Sam. "You got these for me?"
"The owners are friends of mine. And we share the same management company. They let me in."
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