204 Rosewood Lane

  “We’ll talk,” Jon promised, kissing her again. She’d been half expecting it, and even though she was prepared this time, his touch devastated her, left her gasping with shock and pleasure.

  “Soon,” he said as he eased his lips from hers. “All right?”

  “Okay,” she agreed hoarsely, although she couldn’t recall what was going to happen “soon.”

  Once secure and inside her car, she placed her hands on the steering wheel. She was trembling so badly she found it impossible to insert the key into the ignition. What had she done? What had she unleashed on them both?

  Dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, Grace started outside to look around the house and garage. She couldn’t delay winterizing her home any longer. Dan had always taken care of such chores; now, for the first time in her marriage, Grace would need to complete these unfamiliar tasks herself.

  Thankfully, her son-in-law had stepped in whenever she’d required help. He’d shown her how to change the furnace filter, fixed a leaking faucet and repaired the dryer, but Grace couldn’t continue to rely on Paul, dear as he was. She had to learn to cope with these situations on her own.

  The first thing she did was stare at the open garage door. For the last two weeks, the automatic door had refused to budge. Grace had managed to open it manually, but last evening it had stuck in the open position. It needed to be fixed before someone saw it as an invitation to rob her.

  Standing in front of the garage, wearing Dan’s oversized gloves, hands on hips, Grace regarded the garage door like a dragon ready to roar down sulfur and fire upon her.

  “Get a grip,” she muttered under her breath. “You can do this. You’ve done everything else—you can tackle a garage door, too.” Okay, first she had to find the manual and the necessary tools. Dan was always so proud of his workbench. He had every gadget imaginable. Yet he hadn’t taken a single one with him when he walked away. Like everything else about his disappearance, this baffled her.

  Was this other woman so incredible, so amazing, that she provided for his every need? Or did the things that used to matter to him no longer mean anything? He’d left behind his clothes, his tools, even his wedding band. He’d taken nothing more than the clothes on his back.

  Grace didn’t know where she’d find the manual. She thought Dan kept his various instruction books in a box somewhere in the garage. She saw a stack of boxes piled beneath the workbench; she slid the top one out. Kneeling on the concrete floor, she opened the lid. Instead of the manual, she found the thick woolen shirt she’d bought him last Christmas. She lifted it and gasped. The shirt had been shredded. It looked as though Dan had taken a pair of scissors to it and systematically cut the fifty-dollar shirt into strips. All that remained intact was the collar and cuffs.

  Grace remembered asking Dan about the shirt, remembered him telling her it was his favorite, but she’d never seen him wear it. After a while, it had completely slipped her mind.

  Another box revealed a second ugly surprise. Kelly had given Dan a highly touted book on World War II for his birthday. He’d thanked her profusely and said he’d read it. But he hadn’t. Instead it, too, had been destroyed, the pages ripped from the binding. Grace discovered two more boxes of his carnage. It was as though he’d planted them there for her to find. Dan couldn’t have shouted his hate more loudly had he been standing directly in front of her.

  Shaken to the core, Grace discarded the boxes in the garbage and sat down on the back porch steps. Her first reaction was anger. How dare he do such a thing. How dare he! Then she felt the overwhelming urge to weep. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to give in to them. She refused to hand her husband the power to reduce her to a sniveling, spineless weakling.

  Buttercup joined her and seemed to sense Grace’s distress.

  “What would make him do this?” she asked her golden retriever.

  Buttercup looked up at her with big, soulful eyes.

  “I don’t know either, girl. I just don’t know.” Needing to hold someone, Grace put her arms around the dog’s neck and buried her face in Buttercup’s fur.

  She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, feeling intense anger, regret and simmering emotion. After a while she got to her feet. The garage door wasn’t going to fix itself.

  In the process of digging through the neat stack of boxes, she eventually happened upon the manual. She flipped through it and quickly read over the information. The book offered suggestions for troubleshooting, which she studied in detail. Again and again she reminded herself that she could handle this.

  She’d just positioned the stepladder when a pickup truck pulled into the driveway. Grace recognized Cliff and hesitated, her feet on the fourth rung up.

  “Hi,” he called, climbing out of the truck. Buttercup trotted over to greet him. While friendly, the golden retriever was protective of Grace and wasn’t keen on letting strangers into the yard. To Grace’s surprise, Buttercup greeted Cliff as if he were family.

  “Hi,” she said, wishing now that she’d worn a newer pair of jeans and a less faded sweatshirt.

  “Charlotte mentioned that you had a problem with your garage door,” he said, bending down to scratch her dog’s ears.

  Grace blinked, unsure how Olivia’s mother had known about her problem, but then Charlotte always did have a way of finding out things.

  Cliff straightened and seemed to await her invitation. “I came to see if I could give you a hand.”

  At this point, Grace wasn’t about to refuse help. “I’d be grateful if you’d look at it. I’ve been reading the manual but I haven’t had a chance to check out the mechanism yet.”

  “I have a knack for stuff like this.” He glanced around. “I’m gifted at cleaning leaves out of rain gutters, too.”

  Grace laughed. “You must be an angel in disguise.”

  “I don’t think so.” He helped her down from the ladder and even before Grace could get inside the house to brew a pot of coffee, he had the garage door working again.

  “What was wrong?” she asked, astonished that it had been so easy.

  “The wheels jumped out of alignment. I just put it back on track. Nothing to it.”

  While Cliff carried the ladder over to the house, Grace reached for the rake and started gathering together a huge pile of oak leaves. When she’d finished, Cliff helped her pack them inside plastic bags.

  “Are you ready for that coffee?” she asked, when they’d tied the last bag.

  “That’d be great.”

  She welcomed him into her kitchen and set out two big mugs. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  He studied her a moment, then grinned boyishly. “I’ll think of something,” he teased.

  “I’ll bet you will.” Grace laughed—and suddenly realized that just a couple of hours earlier, she’d been fighting back tears. The contrast was all the more apparent when she saw the way Buttercup had warmed to Cliff.

  “Buttercup normally isn’t friendly with strangers,” she told him.

  Cliff petted the dog. “She probably smells the horses.”

  Grace propped elbows on the table. “I’d forgotten you raise quarter horses.”

  “They’re a big part of my life. Do you ride?”

  Grace shook her head. “I haven’t been around horses much.”

  They chatted for a while, the ebb and flow of their conversation completely natural. Rarely had Grace felt more at ease with a man. More than once, she had to remind herself that legally she was still married to Dan. While he might have run off with another woman—or at any rate, run off—she intended to remain true to her vows.

  As he was getting ready to leave, Grace saw Cliff glance toward the living room. A framed family photograph stood on a bookshelf. “That’s Dan?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  Cliff walked over to the bookcase and picked up the photograph, which had been taken almost twenty years earlier. Both girls were teenagers then, and Kelly was in braces. Dan’s gaze had been somber as he stare
d straight into the camera, not revealing any emotion.

  After an extraordinarily long moment, Cliff replaced the faded color photograph.

  “I don’t know why he left,” Grace whispered. “I just don’t know.”

  Cliff didn’t say anything.

  “It’s the not knowing that’s dreadful.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  She swallowed tightly.

  He brushed the hair from her cheek. “I don’t want you to feel guilty about me being here this afternoon. This wasn’t a date.”

  Grace smiled tremulously.

  “If you’re going to suffer pangs of remorse, then you should worry about how much I want to take you in my arms right now. If you’re going to feel guilty, then do it because I’m having one hell of a time not kissing you.”

  Grace closed her eyes, knowing that if she looked at him, Cliff would realize it was what she wanted, too.

  Sighing, he stroked her cheek with his knuckle before he turned away.

  Eyes still shut, she heard him open the door and leave.

  Six

  Janice Lamond had been a valuable addition to Zach Cox’s office staff. She’d taken on more and more duties and had developed an excellent rapport with his clients. He appreciated her attitude and her strong work ethic. When it was time for her six-month evaluation, Zach called her into his office.

  “Sit down, Janice,” he said, gesturing toward the chair across from his desk.

  Janice sat on the edge of the chair and met his look with a tentative smile, almost as if she were nervous about what he might say.

  “You’ve been with the firm half a year now.”

  “Has it really been that long?”

  It felt as though she’d always been part of his office team. She was well liked and fit in smoothly with the firm’s other employees. Eager to please, she wasn’t quick to rush out the door at the end of the day. He appreciated the effort she took to make the clients who visited the office feel welcome.

  “As you know, we review employee performance twice a year.”

  Janice squeezed her hands between her knees. “Is there an area where I can improve?” she asked.

  If there was, Zach didn’t know what it would be. She was about as perfect an employee as he could find. “No, no. You’ve done an excellent job.”

  “Thank you.” Her eyes shone at his praise. “It’s a pleasure to come into work each day. I like my job.”

  She made it a pleasure for Zach to come into the office, too. Janice was organized. Her desk was orderly and she kept his appointments running like clockwork. When he arrived at the office in the morning, Janice was there to greet him, the coffee was made and the mail was on his desk. It was a stark contrast to his life at home. With so many committee appointments, Rosie often left the dinner dishes on the table or stacked in the sink overnight. The house was a continual mess, and even the most mundane tasks just never seemed to get accomplished. Still, Rosie was his wife and he loved her.

  “I’d like to give you a ten-percent raise,” Zach told Janice. “The other partners are in agreement.”

  “Ten percent?” she repeated as if she’d misunderstood him. “After just six months?”

  “We’ve learned that if we want to keep good employees, we need to compensate them adequately. We’re happy with your work here at Smith, Cox and Wright. We hope that you’ll be part of our team for many years to come.”

  “I’d like that very much.”

  Zach didn’t have anything more to add. He stood, and Janice did, too. He walked her to his office door.

  “I can’t thank you enough,” she said.

  “I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

  “A ten-percent raise,” she added excitedly, covering her mouth with both hands. “This is just great.”

  Before he could react, Janice threw her arms around his neck and gave him a hug. As soon as she realized what she’d done, she blushed and hurriedly left. Zach figured it was just an impulsive gesture from a warm, emotionally generous woman.

  But Zach enjoyed that little hug, and found himself smiling for the next few minutes.

  At five-thirty, when the workday was technically over, he remained behind to finish up some paperwork. He wasn’t in a hurry to get home these days. Rosie was generally busy with some volunteer project or other, and Allison and Eddie were involved with their own friends and activities. Janice was closing down her computer as he walked out of his office at six o’clock.

  “I didn’t know you were still here,” he said, glancing at his watch.

  “I wanted to review these numbers one last time before I put the Mullens Company report in the mail.”

  He smiled at her. It was exactly this attention to detail that had earned her the raise. “Good night, Janice.”

  “Good night, Mr. Cox, and thank you again.”

  As Zach turned off Lighthouse Road and headed toward Pelican Court, the smile left him. It was doubtful Rosie would have dinner ready. In all likelihood, she was preparing for some function outside the house. She never seemed to plan ahead for such events, and as a result she went into panic mode, shoving something that passed for dinner onto the table. Most likely, the meal would consist of some packaged crap she’d bought at the grocery store, something that could be slapped together without any effort. Some nights she brought home dinner from the deli. There was nothing he liked less than Chinese food that had been sitting under lights all afternoon. The deli-roasted chicken wasn’t half-bad, but he was as tired of that as he was of pizza.

  Zach parked the car in the garage and loosened his tie as he entered the kitchen.

  “You’re late,” Rosie said, rushing to place silverware in the center of the table. “Dinner’s ready.”

  “What are we having?”

  She reached for a container on top of the garbage can and read the label aloud. “Lasagna.”

  “Is it cooked all the way through this time?” The last entrée she’d served was still frozen in the middle.

  “It should be. I had it in the microwave for twenty minutes.” Then without a pause, she turned her head and yelled for the kids. “Dinner!”

  “Are you going out?”

  “I told you this morning I have my book club tonight.”

  “Did you read the book?”

  “Who has time? But I want to hear what everyone else has to say.” There was a decided edge to her voice, as though she disapproved of him questioning her about her activities.

  Zach picked up the mail and sorted through it. He stopped at the VISA bill, which he’d paid off a month earlier. Slipping his finger under the flap, he slit it open. To his dismay he found a three-hundred-dollar charge from Willows, Weeds and Flowers.

  He asked Rosie about it.

  “Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you. I used the card to buy flowers for the ladies’ auxiliary luncheon at the hospital.”

  “Three hundred dollars for flowers?”

  “The committee’s going to reimburse me.”

  “When?”

  “Don’t take that tone of voice with me, Zach,” she snapped. “I’m sure I’ll have the check by the end of the week.”

  “That card is for emergencies only.”

  Rosie glared at him, her hand on her hip. “That was an emergency. The lady delivered the centerpieces for the banquet, and the treasurer hadn’t arrived yet. She had to be paid. Surely even you can understand that?”

  “So you volunteered?” Zach didn’t know why his wife found it necessary to leap in and rescue the world.

  “Someone had to. Why are you so upset about this?”

  “It’s more than just this one incident,” Zach said. “It’s everything. I’m sick of the dinners you throw together because you’re in a hurry to go somewhere else. I’m sick of you rushing out the door every night, sick of the house being a mess.”

  Tears filled Rosie’s eyes, and her cheeks turned a deep shade of red. “You have no appreciation for everything I do around her
e.”

  Zach glared right back. “Everything you do? Tell me, exactly what is it you do all day, except race from one unpaid venture to another? In the meantime, your family’s eating garbage. Our home is a mess and I haven’t seen you for more than ten minutes all week.”

  “Are you suggesting I care more about my committees than I do my family?”

  “I’m suggesting nothing. I’m saying it outright.”

  “You don’t get it, do you?”

  “Wrong,” he shouted. “I’m definitely getting the message and so are our children. The kids and I are running a distant second in your life. You fill up your days with volunteer work so you’ll feel valued and important, and frankly I’m sick of it.”

  He suddenly saw that Allison and Eddie had walked into the kitchen and were standing frozen in the doorway. Zach hated fighting in front of the children, but these negative emotions had been corroding inside him far too long.

  Rosie looked at him as if he’d physically struck her, then burst into tears and stormed into their bedroom.

  For a stunned moment Zach stood there as his children accused him with their eyes. He didn’t understand why his home life was in constant turmoil. It was little wonder that he preferred being at the office with its well-organized environment.

  Needing time to clear his head, Zach removed his tie and headed toward the garage.

  “Where are you going, Dad?” Eddie called after him.

  Zach didn’t know. “Out.”

  Neither of his children said anything to stop him and the truth was, Zach didn’t want to be delayed. Once in his car, he drove around for a while until his stomach rumbled. It’d been a long time since lunch, and returning home to a half-cooked frozen entrée held no appeal.

  It was nearly eight by his watch. Zach stopped at the Taco Shack on the outskirts of town. The Mexican restaurant was better than scarfing down fast food, but at this point he didn’t much care. Zach decided he’d order a couple of tacos and eat them in the car.

  As he stepped up to the counter, he noticed a woman sitting by herself at a table. He didn’t think anything of it until he realized she looked familiar. Turning, he gave her a second glance.