The Stillwater Bay Collection (Books 1-4): Stillwater Bay Series Boxed Set

by Steena Holmes

  She exhaled, watching the steam from her coffee cup blow away with her breath. She wished her problems would blow away as easily.

  “Being a team means there needs to be trust. We’re in the middle of rebuilding that, but…” Her shoulders slumped. “I can’t let my guard down right now. Not yet. I know I said we’ll put the past behind us and move forward together, but I can’t forget the fact that you betrayed me, Jordan.” She held up her hand once she saw he wanted to interrupt. “I just need to be there, okay? This is a step in rebuilding that trust between us.”

  How much trust could there really be when the man you loved and had a life with had lied to you for years? What kind of man pretended his own child didn’t exist?

  She couldn’t wrap her head around that. He knew how important family was to her. He knew that betrayal was the one thing she couldn’t handle, and yet she was trying. She was really, really trying.

  “I never betrayed you.” Her husband’s voice was weak and it disappointed her, like when you go to take a sip of coffee, expecting it to be strong and it tasted watered down.

  The letdown could ruin what should have been a good cup of coffee.

  She’d never realized just how weak a man he was until that day in her office when he’d confessed what really happened that day of the shooting. The day his own son came to confront him and ended up killing twelve innocent people.

  He’d hidden in a closet.

  Hidden.

  While his son…

  Charlotte couldn’t even continue her thought. It hurt too much.

  She stood, brushed the skirt of her dress, and leaned down to rub the top of Buster’s head.

  “I need to go.” She retreated into the house, grabbing her phone. Her schedule was full today and she needed to be clear headed, not muddled with issues between her and Jordan.

  “Don’t run from me, not right now.” Jordan blocked her path, his arms out wide. The vein in his jaw throbbed from tension.

  She dug her fingernail into the palm of her hand before forcing herself to relax. What was going on here?

  Jordan’s arms dropped the same time she relaxed her fists.

  “I’m sorry. I know you’ve got a busy day, but…” he shook his head, as if trying to find the right words to say.

  “I want to talk to Samantha. I’m going to call her today, but I wanted to give you a heads up first.”

  The bomb dropped without warning but she should have known. Right? She should have expected this? So why hadn’t she?

  “You can’t be serious.” Why did this keep coming up? Why couldn’t he just leave things be?

  “I am.”

  She tried to wrap her head about this. He knew what it would mean if he told Samantha the truth. He knew what it would do to them, to their town. To her.

  “You can’t. We’ve all ready discussed this, Jordan. You can’t. You agreed.” Her heart hammered inside her chest, the pain too much. How could he do this to her?

  “I need to tell the truth. I can’t live with it anymore. I just can’t.” In that moment, Jordan appeared defeated, as if he was ready to give in because he had nothing left to continue.

  “What happened to you? What happened to the man who wanted to make a change? To be the change? How could you be so selfish…” her voice trailed off as what she said really hit her.

  Wasn’t she also being selfish? No. No. She wasn’t. She was focused on her town, on the people who were desperate to not be swallowed whole by their grief.

  “Jordan, you can’t. Not…” she needed to think of how to fix this, how to save the situation and save her husband in the process… “Let’s talk about this later okay?”

  She caught the hesitation on Jordan’s face.

  “If rebuilding our marriage is important to you, then you won’t do anything until we have time to talk. Okay?” She knew it was harsh, knew that she wasn’t playing fair…but there was no way she could have him talk to Samantha. Not right now. Not when she wasn’t ready.

  He finally nodded. “As long as you promise we’ll talk about this.” He looked her straight in the eye. “That you’ll listen to me and what I have to say. This is a partnership, right?”

  She swallowed hard. “Agreed. We’ll both talk and we’ll both listen. Later.”

  She left the house and drove blindly through town before parking at the Town Hall. She felt numb. Numb with…what? She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. What was happening between them? What was happening to him? She thought they had a plan, a goal…didn’t they?

  Her cell rang. Charlotte cleared her throat, pulling herself together before noticing it was Jenn.

  “Hey. What’s up?” She asked.

  “Hey. I just…just thought I’d call and see how you are doing.” Jenn sounded off.

  “I’m okay. Are you?”

  There was silence on the other end for far longer than Charlotte liked.

  “Jenn?”

  “I’m…I’m okay. I just, I know you’re busy but I thought about our talk the other day and how you said I could call when…” she didn’t finish, but she didn’t need to.

  “When you need a life line. I’m here, Jenn. Anytime.” It didn’t matter what her schedule was like, if her friend needed her, then she would find a way.

  They chatted for the next few minutes before Charlotte noticed the time. “I need to run. We have a safety meeting at the school to go over new protocols and changes.”

  “The kids will be safe, right? Going back? It won’t happen again, right?” Jenn’s voice wobbled.

  Charlotte knew, without Jenn saying a word, that she relived that day over and over in her mind. Jenn had seen Gabe as he entered the school. She saw him and didn’t stop him. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t have known he had a gun in his backpack. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t have known what his plans were.

  No one had.

  It didn’t stop Jenn from blaming herself, though. Just like it didn’t stop Charlotte from blaming herself—or from blaming Jordan.

  She would always blame Jordan.

  “Not on my watch,” Charlotte promised. “Never again.”

  8

  Jenn’s words taunted Charlotte throughout the day.

  The kids will be safe, right? Going back? It won’t happen again, right?

  She’d made her friend a promise, one that she intended to keep. She kept that promise at the forefront of her mind as she listened to the contractors walk her and Jordan through the changes made within the school, the locks on the front doors, the bulletproof windows and extra cameras in the hallways.

  Every decision made was for one purpose: to keep their children safe. They’d already failed once; they couldn’t do it again.

  “The office window is too large, don’t you think?” Jordan pointed out to Charlotte as they stood at the worktable in the main hallway.

  Before, the wall in front of them had been three-quarters covered with one small window and a wooden door that led into the main office. Trophy cases had been set up along that wall, as well as framed school photos.

  They were all gone now. Instead there was one very large window along with two glass doors. Everything in this main area could be seen—which was good and exactly what she’d wanted.

  “I think the window is fine.”

  Jordan looked surprised—Charlotte never disagreed with him in public.

  The contractor studied them, his pencil hovering over the drawings he’d been working on.

  “The window is fine,” Charlotte reiterated. “Everyone who walks in will be seen right away by anyone in the office, especially if you move the desk over here.” She pointed to where she meant on the drawing.

  Jordan didn’t say anything, just looked things over, and then shrugged. “Of course, you’re right.”

  Charlotte glanced at her watch and grimaced. This took longer than she’d expected, but she’d been right in coming.

  “We accomplished a lot today, and I’m really happy w
ith the work you and your crew have done. I’m also really pleased that we’re ahead of schedule.” She praised their contractor before turning toward Jordan. “I have another meeting to head to and then dinner with my mother,” she reminded him. She avoided his gaze. Things had been a bit off between them since this morning.

  “I’d forgotten about that.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I’ll see you tonight then.” He tidied up some papers from the table. “I guess I’ll head to the golf club, so if you finish up early and want to join me for a few holes…” He sounded hopeful.

  It had been a while since she’d been to the club or played a round with him.

  “That would be nice. If not tonight, maybe we should plan on it for tomorrow?” Getting back to their routine, to what people knew and expected of them—to their life and what she was comfortable with—would be good.

  Walking away, Charlotte was satisfied that her families would feel safe. That Jenn would feel safe. That come September first, when the children came back to the school, they would see the difference in the halls, in the classrooms, and feel safe.

  That was her goal. Her plan. Her purpose.

  A reminder popped up on her phone about her next meeting, with a note from Sheila to call her before she arrived.

  Once she was in her vehicle she called her assistant, as requested.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “I thought you might appreciate a heads-up. Samantha stopped by.”

  “Again?” Damn that woman was persistent. “Fine. Schedule a meeting with her.”

  “Not that. She wanted to talk about the fall fair. Apparently she’s been getting inquiries about media presence there and wanted to talk strategy before it gets out of hand.”

  Got out of hand? The last thing they needed was to be swarmed by the media again. Stillwater was to be left alone—that had been the strategy since the day in her office that she and Robert had sat down with Samantha and made that deal that she could stay but only her.

  Charlotte ground her teeth. “Can you have her come to the office later? We need to nip this in the bud.”

  “Already done. You should see it added to your calendar.”

  “One part of me wants to say you’re the best assistant ever, but then there’s the other part that is tempted to call you a—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Sheila teased. “Stop with all the compliments already. I’ll see you in an hour. Sure would love a latte…”

  “And I’d sure love a schedule not so jam-packed. Too bad we don’t always get what we want.” Charlotte chuckled as she hung up.

  Moments later her cell phone dinged with a text message.

  Extra-large and an oatmeal cookie. It’s the least I deserve for keeping you on schedule.

  Charlotte laughed out loud as she read that. No truer words had been spoken.

  Deal, she texted back.

  Best. Boss. Ever.

  Gina was waiting for her as she walked into the café for coffee. “Heard you’re headed to your mom’s for dinner.”

  Charlotte stifled her groan and forced a smile on her face. “I’ve kind of been avoiding her phone calls so...”

  “Ohhh.” Gina winced. “That’s not good. Bet she wasn’t too pleased, was she? The last time I stood Doris up she invited me over for pie, and it was the only pie I hate to eat.”

  “Let me guess. Lemon meringue?” Charlotte tried really hard not to chuckle. Doris was known for her slights if she felt they were warranted.

  “Extra-tart too.” The pained look of remembrance on Gina’s face was priceless. “Needless to say, I sucked up quite a bit after that. I think it took three separate tea dates before I was back in her good graces. Good luck.”

  “I’ll need it, thanks.” Charlotte pushed away the thought of her mother and possible ramifications of her previous slights. Doris had said she understood that things were busy and not to worry about it, but when it came to her mom…well, Charlotte really never knew.

  By the time she climbed the steps of Town Hall up to her office, she’d brushed all misgivings away and focused her thoughts on meeting with Samantha.

  Sheila waited at the door. “Samantha’s in your office.” She reached for her coffee and cookie.

  Charlotte glanced over at her open office door, always kept closed unless there was someone inside, waiting for her.

  “Lovely.” She ground her teeth before she walked into her office and found Samantha standing at her big bay windows, looking down at the memorial statue remembering the victims of the school shooting below.

  Samantha turned at the sound of Charlotte clearing her throat.

  “Thank you for seeing me so quickly. Sheila mentioned you’re in between appointments right now, so I know you’re rushed. I promise not to take much time. I’m fielding calls from a few reporters about the school opening.”

  Charlotte held up her hand, stopping Sam.

  “We made a deal, and that deal needs to stand. You’re here for a reason—you and you alone. Not your colleagues. Not other reporters. You. I could ensure that all media is banned if that’s needed, but then that would include you as well.” She needed to make her point, to get her message across, no matter how harsh she sounded. “The school reopening is a sign of our community moving forward. The last thing we need—”

  “Are reminders of what life was like back when the shooting first happened,” Samantha finished for her. “I get it. Trust me. Which is why I have a plan.”

  Charlotte leaned against the edge of her desk and sipped her coffee. Despite her annoyance at the woman for insisting on a sit down with her and Jordan, she did like the woman. Especially right now, knowing that Sam had a plan. The woman was resourceful and smart—two qualities Charlotte appreciated. She knew she liked the woman, enjoyed her company and the odd coffee or wine they’d shared over the past months.

  “Great. I have a few ideas as well. I’d love to discuss them now, but my schedule is a bit tight. Why don’t I get in touch with you so we can set something up at a later date?”

  “Will your husband be joining us as well?” Samantha asked.

  Unbelievable. She just doesn’t give up, does she? “Jordan doesn’t have time, Sam.” She hated the sound of desperation in her voice, but why wouldn’t the woman leave things alone? “He’s busy with the school reopening coming up. It’ll just be me.” She tried really hard to remain calm, to have a semblance of a smile on her face when inside she felt like a powder keg ready to explode.

  “I need his story as well, Charlotte.”

  “You’ll need to be happy with just me.” Shoulders straight. Muscles as tight as they could be, Charlotte stepped away from her desk toward her door, counting every single step it took to get there, fully expecting Sam to follow. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Please see if Jordan can join us.”

  Charlotte just smiled. Jordan joining them was the last thing she would allow.

  By the time she made it to her mother’s for dinner, Charlotte was at wits end. The rest of her day had gone down hill, all she could think about was Samantha’s determination to sit with her husband and how she had to stop that from happening. She could use a drink or two and hoped her mother had something stronger to drink than tea.

  Doris sat on a bench outside at the front door of the retirement village, waiting for her.

  “Sorry I’m late.” Charlotte grabbed the bouquet of flowers she’d picked up from Camille and walked across the pathway. She gave her mother a hug, then handed her the flowers and waited for the short reprimand that was sure to come.

  “They’re beautiful. Thank you.” Doris brought the flowers up to her nose and inhaled.

  “You’re….welcome?” Charlotte hated that her voice rose as if questioning her mother’s words.

  “I always love when you bring me flowers.” Doris wrapped her arm through Charlotte’s and led her into the retirement home. She showed off the flowers to other residents who loitered in the hallway before th
e two of them made it to her mother’s apartment on the main floor.

  Charlotte watched Doris closely. This wasn’t the demeanour she’d been expecting. Had they changed her medication?

  “Stop looking at me as if I’m a complete stranger. Can’t a woman be glad to see her daughter?” Doris opened the door to her suite and marched in, leaving Charlotte in her wake, feeling bemused and off center at the same time.

  “I’ve been thinking,” her mother said as she filled a vase with water and arranged the flowers in it. “Why don’t we do dinner more often? I know your schedule is so busy, but it should slow down with fall approaching.”

  Charlotte reached for a glass her mother had left on the counter next to a pitcher of homemade tea and spilled its contents all over the counter.

  “Is the idea of spending more time with me that abhorrent that you had to spill my iced tea?” Doris shook her head.

  “I vividly recall being accused of invading your personal space and…what was that word you used?” Charlotte threw the soaked towels into the garbage. “Smothering? That’s what you said, right? I also remember being told,” she air quoted, “‘I’m not an invalid and don’t appreciate being treated like one.’”

  “Well…” Doris huffed as if offended, “can I help it if the truth hurts?” There was a hint of a smile on her face, however. “You caught me on a bad day, okay?

  Charlotte knew that was as close to an apology as she was ever going to get. Months ago during one of their biweekly dinners, Charlotte had brought up the idea of going on a road trip, just the two of them, maybe down the coast toward San Diego. To say her mother had not liked the idea was putting it mildly. Accusations were thrown at her, from masking the trip as an excuse to find another retirement home, to Charlotte not trusting her and needing to check in on her more.

  All Charlotte had wanted was to spend more time with her mother. As chaotic as their relationship was, she was still her mother, the only family she had left.

  “When you say dinner more often, are you thinking weekly?” Charlotte asked. Charlotte felt like she was in an episode of the Twilight Zone and an alien had taken over her mother’s body or something.