“No. Not really. I just needed to turn around. This is a lovely house. Is it yours?”
“I’m the caretaker.”
“Oh, I see. Does that mean you farm it?”
“We’re a horse farm, ma’am.”
“What kind of horses?”
“Thoroughbreds, of course. The owner loves his horses as you can tell by his barn. It’s got all the bells and whistles. A workout arena and even a modern, glistening medical center for the horses. He doesn’t spare expenses when it comes to his horses.”
It didn’t sound like the rickety old barn of her memories.
“Sounds beautiful. I don’t suppose I could see it.”
He shrugged. “I shouldn’t really do that, but the boss is away so I don’t see any harm in it. Come along.”
She almost panicked. She hadn’t really expected him to agree. Could this man be the monster? And luring her back to the barn? She took a deep breath. Please God, don’t let me have an anxiety attack right now. She had to see the barn then she could put her delusion to rest.
She opened the car door. The man chatted amiably as he showed her around the barn and the arena. There were at least two other people working there that she saw.
She smiled at her tour guide. “It’s a beautiful barn. Any other barns on the property? I have a thing about barns, especially old barns. I love the history behind them.”
“Nope this is the only one. He had to tear down the old one to have this built.”
“That’s too bad. I’m sure it was a great barn.”
They walked back to her car. She thanked the caretaker and drove down the lane, knowing this wasn’t the place she’d been held captive.
25
Raven spent most of the drive home telling herself that this bizarre obsession that Charles Whitman had been involved in her disappearance was finished. She’d seen his house and even his barn. There were at least three people who worked there on a regular basis according to the caretaker.
No way, the senator could have kept her captive and those men not known about it. Plus, the barn wasn’t a rickety old thing at all, but modern and elaborate. It was not her prison.
It was time to let go, but what if…what if her kidnapper had another woman? How could she let go of that? Weren’t all women her neighbors? So, OK, she could agree that Charles Whitman, III wasn’t her kidnapper.
But someone was.
And that someone could hurt other women. How could she just forget that? And yet, there was nothing she could do at this point. Raven shook her head. What was the right thing to do?
God had good plans for her. She needed to cooperate with God by letting go of the past and move forward. She had friends. Of course, she might wish one of them was more than a friend, but Hunter had made it clear that wasn’t what he wanted. Still, friends were good. She was closer to Amanda than she’d ever been. And her two little nieces were the light of her life.
And there might be a bakery in her future. She daydreamed about that bakery. It really did seem like a good fit for her. And for Lydia.
Her life was moving forward. It was time to stop looking in the rearview mirror of her life. If she ever remembered the monster’s face, then she could do something to stop him.
When she got back home to Charm, Raven found a box on her porch. She grinned as she lugged the box in the house. A few moments later, she pulled out a book.
Unsinkable by Jane Doe.
Happy tears rolled down her cheeks. She was thrilled. It didn’t have her name on it, but Raven knew it was her book and that was enough. She’d be the only one to know. Not Hunter or Gracie. Not even her sister. God had wanted her to do this, but she didn’t like baring her soul to anyone.
They would be so happy for her if they knew. But if they knew, they would read the book. And if they read the book, they’d know her most secret thoughts. She didn’t mind sharing her secret thoughts with strangers but with family? Friends? It seemed too personal.
What was it Gracie had said last week during their session? Something about if one kept secrets from those around them, it meant that they either didn’t feel what they were doing was the right thing, or one didn’t trust them.
But that wasn’t true.
Raven was sure the book had been the right thing to do. It had been therapy for her. And she certainly trusted her family and her friends. Then why was she keeping the book a secret? She sighed and brushed the thought aside.
This was all moving way faster than the norm in the publishing world. But everything was becoming instantaneous thanks to technology, even the notoriously slow publishing world. What used to take many months could be done in weeks these days.
After lugging the books to the bedroom, in case Amanda or anyone else showed up, she pulled out her phone and called her agent.
“I got the books.”
“Great. I received a few copies as well. They look great. In fact, I just got off the phone with the PR department at the publisher. They’re setting up several interviews for you next week on release day. In New York. The big time.”
Her stomach twisted. This was really happening. “But they’re sure they can keep me anonymous?”
“You have my word. In fact, I’m going with you to make sure everything goes smoothly. Plus, I have a plan. Now I have a few questions.”
“OK.”
“Would you like to be a blonde, a brunette? Maybe a redhead?”
Raven understood the plan. “You’ll disguise me.”
“It couldn’t hurt, right?”
“Right. Red.”
“Subtle or outlandish.”
Raven smiled. “Outlandish.”
“Excellent. Long? Short? Straight? Or curly?”
“Medium curly. And I’ll bring some glasses.”
“Really big glasses. And maybe practice an accent. Even though we’ll disguise your voice, it helps even more.”
“I’m great at accents. It’s why I always got cast in plays in high school and college. What kind of an accent?” By the time she hung up, Raven was feeling more confident about the whole thing. She’d do these interviews and then come back to her simple life in Charm, Ohio.
Her phone rang again. “Hi, Hunter.”
“Just seeing if you’re back yet.”
“Got back a little while ago. How’d you know I was gone?”
“Amanda told me at our session yesterday. Did you have a good time?”
“I guess that’s one way of describing it.” She felt horrible not telling him the real reason behind her trip.
“Want to go out and eat somewhere tonight? My shift just finished so I can be there in about thirty minutes.”
“Sounds good.”
As she changed her clothes, she stared at the boxes that felt like secrets. And that wasn’t how she wanted to live her life. On the other hand, she wanted to get her message out there and then fade into the background. She had no desire to be a celebrity—not even a local one. She turned her back to the box. I’ll just not think about it. Raven walked out to the kitchen and stared at the refrigerator. She really didn’t want to go out to eat but she was too exhausted to cook. So she did the next best thing.
Her doorbell rang a few minutes later.
Hunter smiled as she opened the door.
It was good to see a friend—someone she could trust. Someone she knew wasn’t the monster. “Come on in. I…uh…I hope you don’t mind but I sort of changed the plans. I realized how tired I am.”
“No dinner?”
“Dinner here.”
“You’re cooking?”
“Not exactly.” She wrinkled her nose. “How do you feel about pizza?”
“Love it.”
The doorbell rang again.
“And here it is.”
He reached for his pocket.
“Don’t even think about it, Hunter. My treat.”
“But I asked you out for dinner.”
“But—”
He walked past h
er and opened the door.
She caved and let him pay. A quick trip to the kitchen and she came back with cans of pop and a bag of chips piled up on the plates. “Oops, I forgot the napkins.”
When they were settled in, she looked at Hunter. Maybe she wasn’t ready for a relationship yet, but this felt good—right. Hunter seemed to be a good man, one she wanted to know better. And yet she couldn’t share her secrets with him. Did that say something about him—or was it more about her?
“So where did you go? Amanda just said you went on a short road trip.”
She could at least tell him that much. “I went to Berkeley Springs, West Virginia. It’s near the area where they found me.”
“So, did it help you remember anything?” He didn’t seem to be shocked or think it strange.
“No. It was a wasted trip for the most part.”
“What part wasn’t wasted?”
“I sort of had an epiphany.”
“Epiphanies are always a good thing. Want to share yours?” He quickly added. “But you don’t have to if you’re not ready. Epiphanies can be very personal.”
“I don’t mind. I realized that God has blessed me with a second chance. I should have died in that river, but I didn’t. And instead of focusing on that, I’ve been obsessing over a past I can’t remember. It’s time for me to enjoy my present and to look toward the future.”
He grinned. “Wow. That’s a pretty good epiphany. Any chance I might be part of it?”
“Well, I did share my epiphany with you.”
“Yes you did. You know I don’t think I’ve ever had a conversation where the word epiphany was used as many times as we’ve used it tonight.”
“And you just used it again.” She laughed. “So I have another trip I have to take next week.”
“My, my, you’re becoming quite the traveler. Where are you going this time?”
She had a story prepared to tell, not just to him but to Amanda and Gracie as well. A story? More like a lie. “I…uh…I’ve been thinking about how to make a living and still live in Charm. So I’m checking into some possibilities.” Not quite the truth but not quite a lie either.
“Sounds intriguing. I sure hope it works out. I’d like you to stay.” He placed a hand over hers. Maybe he didn’t want to be just friends?
“Me, too.”
After Hunter left, Raven cleaned up, and then walked into her bedroom. The box sat in the middle of her floor. She should have told him about the book—and about the things she was remembering. And she would—soon.
26
“So what’s with the Jane Doe name? You don’t actually think anyone believes that’s your real name, do you?” Shanley DeForest smiled.
From where Raven sat, it was as fake a smile as the woman’s eyelashes. “Of course not, because it’s not my real name.”
“Could it be that you’re not using your real name because none of your story is true? That you made all this up for your fifteen minutes of fame?” Shanley’s tone bordered on hostile.
Raven forced a smile—not sure why since her face couldn’t be seen by the viewers. “It’s all very true. I wish it weren’t, but it is.”
“Then why not give us details so your readers and I can verify the facts. Like the name of the hospital or the river where you were found. How are we supposed to believe all this without knowing any facts?”
Raven pushed down her anger. This hadn’t been part of the deal when she’d agreed to the interviews. “Because those aren’t the details, I want people to focus on. I want them to focus on the power of God to get each of us through the storms we all face in this life. My story might not be the same as someone else’s, but God promises never to forsake us, and He never does.”
“God?” The woman practically rolled her eyes. “I’d think you’d be angry at God for letting this happen to you. If it happened at all.”
Raven ignored the last part and focused on God. “God didn’t want this to happen to me.”
“Then why did it?”
“Because there’s evil in this world. Someone made a choice to do evil. God gives each of us a choice. Some people make the right choice and others don’t.”
“God’s supposed to be all-powerful. That means He could have stopped it, right?” Shanley’s expression showed interest. “Why didn’t He? Doesn’t He love you?”
Raven’s stomach knotted. She hadn’t been prepared for this type of questioning. It wasn’t that she minded, but she was messing it all up. “I’m sure He could have, but He gives all of us free will to choose good or evil. Most of us choose good, but there is real evil out there in the world.”
“Since you believe so much in this God, why didn’t He help you?”
“He did. I survived. Not just survived, I’m doing fantastic now. The doctors said I probably wouldn’t walk again but I am. I’m slowly rebuilding my life. None of that would have or could have happened without God.”
“Now where exactly did you say those doctors treated you at?” Fake smile once again.
“I didn’t say. And I won’t say.”
“As a journalist, I find it hard to accept your story without some basic facts. It wouldn’t be the first time a wannabe writer made up a horrific story just so they could get published.”
“The publisher has a note in the book. They’ve verified my injuries, my hospital stay, and my time at a rehabilitation center. None of it’s made up.”
“So why not tell the world the real story? Or should I say the whole story?”
Raven was ready for this question. “The truth is because I’m afraid. Whoever kept me captive for months is still out there. If he knew I survived, he might come looking for me.”
The interviewer smiled. “Well, I guess I can’t argue with that.” She held up the book. “The book is Unsinkable by Jane Doe. Thanks for being my guest on A View of The World. I’m Shanley DeForest.”
~*~
Hunter stared at the TV screen. The first time he’d met Raven, she’d refused to tell him her name, so he’d called her Jane Doe. It couldn’t be, could it? The writer didn’t sound like Raven. The woman speaking had a sweet, soft southern accent. Nothing like Raven’s.
But the story—the story was Raven’s.
Raven wouldn’t have written a book and not told anybody. Or maybe she did tell someone. The people who were important to her. Like Amanda. It wasn’t as though she had to tell him if she didn’t want to, but he’d thought their friendship was growing.
And Raven had taken a mysterious trip somewhere. She hadn’t told him where she was going. Only that she was looking into options for her future.
A future he’d hoped they might share.
He’d told her he only wanted to be friends, because that was what she needed right now. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was fragile emotionally. He refused to take advantage of that.
He hit reverse and watched the interview again. And still couldn’t decide if it was Raven. But if she could write a book and not tell him, maybe she wasn’t the right person for him after all. He was done with secrets. His former fiancé had certainly loved hers.
~*~
Shanley motioned for them to cut. After they did, her smile disappeared. “I hope that makes my boss happy.” She walked away without another word to Raven—not even a good-bye.
Raven stood there wondering what she’d done to upset the woman so much.
“Great job.” Julie was by her side.
“I’m not so sure about that. She was so hostile.”
“She’s never happy about anything. The other interviews will go smoother. I promise.”
“I hope so. That was brutal.”
“I know. That’s my fault. I didn’t realize she would ask those types of questions. Or be that combative. She has a reputation for not being the easiest person to deal with. I guess I should have warned you.”
“I just wish I’d done a better job.”
“You did fine. Really.” Julie handed her a
bag and whispered, “OK, go change your wig and clothes. I’ll meet you at the coffee shop across the street.”
They repeated the process after every interview—live and taped. All their precautions seemed a little silly to Raven, but she was the one who wanted to remain anonymous. And was grateful for all Julie’s hard work to keep her that way.
Julie was only doing what she’d asked. And Julie was right—the other interviews went much more smoothly. No one doubted her story. No one seemed angry at her. But when it was over, Raven was more than ready to go back home to her quiet life.
On the flight back to Cleveland, Julie looked over at her. “So…what’s going on in that mind of yours?”
Raven wished she knew the answer. “I’m really not sure. I guess I’m so exhausted at this point, it’s hard to think.”
“What about what you’re feeling?”
“Are you my therapist now?”
Julie patted her hand. “No, but I hope I’m your friend. You can talk to me, Raven.”
Raven smiled. “I hope so too, but I’m fine. Just tired.”
“I’m thinking you should be working on your next book. A follow-up to this one.”
“Really?”
“Sure, everyone who reads this book will want to know what happened to you. What’s going on in your life. And of course, just like this book, you can weave in spiritual truths that you’ve learned from your experience.”
“Maybe, but what I’d really like to do is try my hand at fiction.”
“Fiction. I don’t see you as a fiction kind of person.”
“I love to read fiction. Always have. In fact, I daydream about made-up characters and their stories. Maybe I should take one of those daydreams and write it down.”
“Sounds like a plan and…we could use your pen name. Jane Doe. You’d already have a platform of readers who would buy your book. I love it. And your readers will love that you’re doing so well. You should get started the minute you get back home.”
“I’m surprised to hear you say that.”
“Why? I represent fiction writers as well as non-fiction.”
“I know but lot of people turn up their noses about fiction. As if it’s trivial because it’s not a true story.”
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