Elle Returns: The Sequel: A Psychological Thriller

by Ditter Kellen

  His gaze flicked to the little girl holding on to Linda’s leg and watching him with a child’s curiosity.

  “May we come in?”

  Linda’s question brought his gaze back to her. “Now isn’t a good time. I’m not alone.”

  Linda licked her lips and shifted her weight. “It’s important, Evan. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  Evan thought about the breakthrough he’d just had with Elenore. He wanted her to continue talking, to open up to him about her past. The moment would be lost if he let Linda inside.

  “As I said, now isn’t a good time.” He moved to close the door.

  “I’m sick, Evan.”

  Evan stilled. “What?”

  “Please,” she whispered, her eyes filled with desolation.

  Evan hadn’t heard from Linda in five years. It floored him that she would show up out of the blue as she did today. Something had to be wrong.

  He glanced behind him to find that Elenore hadn’t returned from the bathroom and then stepped aside to allow Linda and the little girl entrance.

  “Thank you.” Linda took hold of the child’s hand and led her over to the sofa. “Sit here, honey. Mama will be right back.”

  Once the little girl had been seated, Linda motioned for Evan to follow her into the kitchen.

  Evan closed the front door and strode to the bar opposite his ex-fiancée. “What’s going on?”

  She rested her hands on the countertop and lifted her tear-filled gaze. “I have cancer, Evan.”

  Evan’s throat closed up. The woman he’d loved so passionately, had intended to marry, had just confessed to having cancer.

  He took a step closer to the bar, finding it hard to wrap his mind around her words. “Cancer?”

  She lifted a hand to her shiny red locks and…pulled.

  The hair slipped effortlessly free to reveal a head of thin, short hair that rested beneath.

  Evan’s heart jackknifed, his mind rebelling against the evidence before him. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. So he stood there, frozen, staring back at her in denial.

  Long moments passed before his voice made it through his closed throat. “How bad is it?”

  “Bad. I’ve gone through every treatment available to me. I’ve even been to see holistic doctors, but there’s nothing anyone can do.”

  She couldn’t mean what he thought she meant. “What are you saying? There’s no hope? There’s always hope, Linda.”

  “I’m dying, Evan.”

  He shook his head and took a step back. “No. You’re not dying. There has to be something that can be done. There—”

  “There’s nothing that can be done,” she interrupted, replacing the red wig, she held. “Believe me when I tell you that I’ve tried.”

  Evan’s legs felt weak. He took a seat on the edge of a barstool and stared back at the woman who’d once come close to being his wife.

  She stood before him now, telling him of her impending death in the wake of his grandmother’s passing. It was almost more than Evan could process. “How long do you have?”

  “Two, maybe three months.”

  Horror struck. “Two or three months. Why are you just now telling me this?”

  “I’ve thought about coming to you a thousand times, but I didn’t know how. Especially after the way things ended between us. And then I got a call from the nursing home about your grandmother, and I knew you’d be here…”

  “Jesus, Linda.” Evan pushed to his feet and paced along his side of the bar. He couldn’t accept that she was dying. He wouldn’t. “How long have you known you had cancer?”

  She was suddenly there, standing in his path. “It doesn’t matter, Evan. I—”

  “It doesn’t matter? It matters to me! You come here and drop the mother of all bombs on me, and you think it doesn’t matter?”

  She reached into the pocket of her skirt and pulled a paper free. “My cancer isn’t the mother of all bombs, Evan. This is.”

  Evan glanced down at the paper she held, his mind still reeling from the horror of the day’s events: his grandmother’s death, Linda’s cancer. “What is that?”

  She laid the paper on the bar and returned to her previous position. “Read it.”

  With unsteady hands, Evan picked up the paper, unfolded it, and read the top line.

  His hands began to tremble. “It’s DNA results.”

  Tears spilled down Linda’s cheeks. “Sarah is your daughter, Evan.”

  The room tilted beneath his feet.

  And then anger took root. Anger over Linda’s infidelity, over the cancer that would soon claim her life…but mostly because he had a child that she’d kept from him for the past four years. A child he didn’t know…a child his grandmother had never known.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Linda began, only to stop short when he pinned her with an incredulous look.

  “You don’t know the half of my thoughts right now. You show up here after five years and not only tell me you’re dying but that I have a daughter? A daughter you’ve kept from me all this time?”

  More tears spilled from Linda’s eyes. “I didn’t keep her from you, Evan. I only found out recently myself.”

  Evan waved the DNA results in front of her. “You had to have suspected, or you wouldn’t have had her tested.”

  Linda nodded. “You’re right. I did wonder at times. But I had a good life, Evan. I was happy with Rob. He—”

  “Does he know?” Evan interrupted, fueled by anger and disbelief.

  “Yes. And if it makes you feel any better, he left me not long after Sarah was born.”

  Some of Evan’s ire ebbed in the face of Linda’s misery. “I’m sorry. Truly, I am. But where does that leave us?” He jerked his chin toward the living room where the object of their conversation sat waiting.

  “I don’t want her to watch me die,” Linda brokenly whispered. “I can’t do that to her. I won’t.”

  Evan’s breath froze in his lungs. “What are you saying?”

  Linda plucked a paper towel from a nearby holder and wiped at her eyes and nose. “I need you to take her, Evan. It’s the only choice left for her. She doesn’t know Rob. He’s never been in her life. She’s never had a father, Evan, until…now.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Elenore stood completely frozen in the hallway, listening to Evan speak with a woman in the kitchen. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on their conversation, but she didn’t want to be spotted by the unknown woman, either.

  Leaning heavily against the wall, Elenore listened to the woman confess to having cancer, right before letting Evan know he had a daughter he apparently never knew about.

  Elenore could hear the anger, shock, and tears in Evan’s quietly spoken responses. She would recognize those emotions anywhere.

  She pressed herself more firmly against the wall as footsteps echoed throughout the kitchen.

  And then, Evan’s deep voice penetrated the silence. He spoke softly, pain evident in his every word.

  Elenore knew without looking that he spoke to a child. Which meant the little girl the woman had told him about was in the house.

  Unable to help herself, Elenore listened to the words spilling from Evan’s mouth.

  Something inside her shifted, a feeling she’d never experienced before. Longing. She stood in that hallway, longing for her own mother, craving the comfort and love that only a mother could give. But she hadn’t given it, Elenore’s mind painfully whispered.

  The feelings of abandonment swirled anew the longer she soaked up Evan’s gentle words, until she could take it no more.

  Elenore tiptoed back to the bathroom and eased the door closed behind her.

  She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, fighting her feelings, when a light tap on the door brought her up short.

  “Elenore?” Evan called out. “Are you okay in there?”

  Taking a deep breath, she shut down her unwanted emotions, turned around, and opened the door.
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  Evan backed up a step. “You’ve been in there an awfully long time. I was beginning to worry about you.”

  Unsure of what to say, Elenore dropped her gaze. “I-I didn’t want to interrupt.”

  “How much did you hear?”

  Heat crept up her neck to settle in her cheeks. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, Detective. I didn’t know you had company, or I would have stayed in the bathroom.”

  “She’s my ex,” he began in a weary voice. “There’s been a change in plans. We won’t be staying the night in Atlanta. I need to get back to Wexler and sort through some things.”

  Elenore could only nod, her gaze remaining on the floor.

  “All right,” he began, blowing out a breath and turning toward the kitchen.

  Elenore followed a short distance behind, noticing a slight slump to Evan’s shoulders. The average person might not have spotted it, but Elenore did. Besides, she’d lived with dejection her entire life. She knew the signs well.

  * * * *

  The drive back to Wexler was filled with tension, unspoken words, and anxiety. Always the anxiety.

  Evan finally broke the silence. “I have a daughter.”

  “I know,” Elenore whispered, not sure what else to say.

  He rubbed at his eyes with one hand, holding the steering wheel with the other. “Linda—my ex, has cancer. She wants me to take Sarah, so that she…” He cleared his throat. “Doesn’t have to watch her die.”

  Elenore knew she should say something—anything. “Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “Going to take your daughter?”

  Evan didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  More respect for Evan grew in that moment.

  Elenore had already begun to trust him a little, though not fully. And if she were being honest with herself, she might never fully trust him or anyone else for that matter. But she respected him. Even more so, now. “I will go back to the farm when we get back. I know you don’t think I should be there, but I can stay in Daddy’s old moonshine shack until—”

  “What?” he interrupted, shooting her an incredulous look. “Do you really think I’d allow you to live in a shack with no electricity or running water?”

  “But your daughter—”

  “I’ll figure something out that will work for everyone. Now, no more talk of returning to that farm. The place is cursed anyway!”

  Elenore shrank back from the tone in Evan’s voice. She’d angered him.

  A weary sigh escaped him. “I’m sorry, Elenore. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I just have a lot on my mind.”

  Elenore relaxed a little. Evan had apologized to her, something she wasn’t used to. “I understand.”

  The rest of the drive was spent in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Evan’s daughter would be coming to live with him.

  Elenore wondered how he felt about his ex, dying with cancer. She’d heard the pain in his voice, the anger, the disbelief. Did he still love her?

  And his daughter. How would he care for a child he’d only just met?

  Visions of her own childhood crept into her mind. Her father’s unwanted caresses, the men he’d invited into his home to do the same. She inwardly shuddered.

  But Evan wasn’t her father; the complete opposite, in fact. Where Elijah had been cruel and evil, Evan had shown her trust and kindness.

  “We’re here.”

  Elenore had been so lost in thought she hadn’t heard the engine switch off.

  She exited the vehicle and waited at the door while Evan grabbed her suitcase from the backseat.

  He joined her at the porch and unlocked the door.

  “I can take that,” Elenore quietly offered, indicating her suitcase.

  Evan handed it to her. “I have to leave for a bit. As I said before, make yourself at home. There’s plenty of food. I won’t be gone long.”

  Elenore dipped her head and then disappeared inside.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You’re quitting?” The sheriff stared back at Evan with a stunned look on his face.

  Evan had called Donnie from the car, only to find out that he was on his way back to the station to pick up some papers.

  So Evan had gone to the sheriff’s office and waited for him to arrive. “I have no other choice.”

  “There’s always a choice,” the sheriff barked, leaning back in his chair.

  Evan wondered how much to tell the man, then decided on the truth. “My grandmother passed away this morning.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Some of the anger left the sheriff’s eyes. Some, but not all.

  “Thank you,” Evan murmured before continuing. “I drove to Atlanta to handle the arrangements and was visited by my ex-fiancée.”

  Donnie didn’t speak, not that Evan expected him to. No, he would remain quiet until Evan finished his explanation. Which was actually one of the things Evan liked about him.

  Sitting forward, Evan rested his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “She has cancer. They gave her two, maybe three months to live.”

  “Wow,” Donnie rumbled, his gaze softening a little more. “That had to be tough.”

  That’s putting it lightly, Evan thought, rubbing his fingertips against his chin. “It was. Her name is Linda. She had a little girl named Sarah with her, a little girl it turns out, that is mine. Linda wants me to take her, since she’s not expected to live much longer. She doesn’t want Sarah to watch her…die.”

  Evan went on to explain how Linda wanted their daughter to stay in Atlanta. Not only because of a better school system but because Linda’s mother also lived there, and though the elderly woman had been confined to a wheelchair for the past ten years, she was the only grandparent Sarah had ever known.

  Donnie kept quiet for long moments and then said, “You’ve got a lot on your plate, Detective. And as much as I hate to lose you, I have to say, I understand. How old is Sarah?”

  “She’s four,” Evan softly replied.

  “When will you be leaving?”

  Evan took a deep breath and sat up straight. “As soon as I can, sir. I know I should give you a proper notice, but I have things to get in order before I can leave. I also have to meet with my grandmother’s attorney about her will.”

  Donnie rose to his feet and extended his hand, which Evan accepted.

  “Don’t worry about the notice, Detective. We can handle things around here until a replacement can be found. You just take care of that little girl.”

  Evan returned the sheriff’s handshake. “I will do my best, sir. And thank you for understanding.”

  * * * *

  Evan returned home to find Elenore asleep on the couch.

  Her eyes flew open the second he closed the door, and she abruptly sprang to her feet.

  Evan could feel the nervousness coming from her in waves. “Hey…it’s okay. You didn’t have to get up on my account.”

  She shook her head, her gaze touching on everything but him. “I-I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I took some of the medicine the nurse gave me, and I—”

  “It’s fine, Elenore.” Evan couldn’t have felt lower than he did in that moment. Elenore had miscarried her baby and had a partial hysterectomy. Yet he’d practically forced her to go with him to Atlanta. With good reason, mind you, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

  He eased deeper into the room. “Why don’t you go lie down in the bed? I have some phone calls to make, but I’ll keep it down so you can sleep.”

  She turned to go.

  “Wait,” Evan called out, stopping her before she reached the hall. He could kick himself for not thinking about her medications. In fact, he hadn’t noticed her taking anything at all. “Did the hospital give you a prescription to be filled?”

  “I— They gave me a few pills to take with me.”

  Evan slowly moved in her direction. “But you do have a prescription.”

  “Yes. Two of them,” she whispered
, not meeting his gaze.

  “Then why didn’t you say something so we could get them filled?”

  When she remained silent, Evan gently prodded. “Elenore?”

  “I-I didn’t have the money to fill them.”

  Evan’s chest tightened. “So, you’ve been rationing them to make them last? Jesus, Elenore. I wish you’d told me.”

  Silence.

  With a heavy sigh, Evan held out his hand. “Let’s see them.”

  “They’re in the suitcase,” she responded in a low tone.

  Evan lowered his arm and nodded toward the bedroom. “Would you mind getting them? The pharmacy closes at ten o’clock.” He glanced at his watch. “That’s thirty minutes from now.”

  Elenore paled. “You’ve done too much for me already. I don’t even know how much they are. I—”

  “Hey,” Evan interrupted, bringing her gaze to his. “It doesn’t matter how much they are. You need the medication. Now, please go get the prescriptions out of your suitcase, and then I want you to get in bed and rest. I’m sorry you had to go with me to Atlanta. That couldn’t have been easy for you.”

  Without another word, she turned toward the hallway and disappeared around the corner.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Elenore lay in bed, her restless gaze glued to the open doorway. Evan would return soon.

  What was it about the man that quieted some of Elenore’s fears? Not all, but enough. She wasn’t terrified of him. Sure, he made her nervous and likely always would, but she didn’t fear him. Not in the way she’d feared her father.

  Elijah’s cold, pale face flashed behind Elenore’s eyes. She shuddered and shifted in bed. He would be blamed for the murders beneath that barn, murders that Elenore had committed. Elle committed, her mind silently acknowledged.

  The anxiety that should accompany thoughts of Elle…didn’t come. For some reason, a calmness settled over her.

  Elle had protected her for years, she suddenly realized, had been protecting her all along.

  Elenore could somehow sense Elle’s strength inside her, lurking beneath the surface, protecting her…loving her.