Behind Closed Doors (9 page)

Neither man said anything for the next hour as they worked their way around the room, making good progress. They used to work together like this all the time in the early years. Now that the business was going strong, Chris was often too busy handling the paperwork and meeting with clients to come out and get his hands dirty. Terry had been hoping his boss and friend would open up on his own and tell him what bug had crawled up his butt since his return, but that didn’t appear to be happening. He’d had five guys come to him over the last three days, each apologizing for whatever it was that they had done to make Chris upset. They were going to lose good men eventually if he didn’t get to the bottom of it.

Terry stepped away and walked to where he’d left his cooler just inside the door. Pulling out a water bottle, he moved his mask out of the way and downed half of it before coming back up for air.

“So how’ve you been? I haven’t seen much of you since you got back.”

“Good,” Chris answered in a clipped voice, barely looking over his shoulder. “Fine.”

“I stopped into the office earlier today. Elizabeth said you’d been out most of the week. Didn’t know where you were, though. I had to drive around to a few job sites before I found you since you’re cell doesn’t seem to be working.”

The knuckles on Chris’s right hand tensed as he tightened his grip on his trowel. “Left it in the truck,” he muttered.

“Hmm. Well good thing there wasn’t an emergency or something.”

“What are you, my mother?” Chris snapped.

Terry’s back stiffened. “No. I am, however, the person who needs to be able to get a hold of you if something comes up. You’re the boss, remember? Act like it.”

They had known each other for almost ten years, and not once had he spoken to Chris like this. But since nothing else had worked, he didn’t feel he had a choice. He’d never seen Chris like this. Not even after Carol.

The trowel flew from Chris’s hand and hit the nearby wall with a thud, leaving a gash that would need to be repaired. As Chris marched over to Terry, his anger seethed with each step. “Maybe I should fire you. Then I would be
acting
like the boss.”

Terry took a deep breath, but didn’t back down. “If that would solve whatever it is that has become permanently stuck up your ass then go ahead.”

The two stared each other down, neither giving an inch.

Then, suddenly, Chris turned and just walked away, leaving Terry standing there gaping after him.

Chris was avoiding her; that much was obvious. The first month Elizabeth worked for him, he’d spent most of his time in the office doing paperwork, meeting with clients. He’d been nearby, and it wasn’t until now that she realized just how much she’d liked having him close. Since they’d returned from Columbus, he’d been in the office twice: once to sign off on a stack of paperwork she’d lain on his desk the previous day, and the second—well, she had no idea. He’d just walked in, not saying a word to her, and went straight to his office.

His reaction had been better than she’d expected. He could have fired her, but instead he just ignored her. She’d lived with a man for five years who, with a good night’s sleep, went from Mr. Hyde to the respectable Dr. Jekyll. Chris’s reaction was a much better alternative.

Why am I comparing the two?

Sadness took over as she packed up. Chris hadn’t been in at all today. Terry had come looking for him around one, and she’d felt rather silly not being able to give him any information. Chris was shutting her out, but she understood that. Who would want anything to do with a murderer, let alone have one as an employee? She turned off the lights, making sure to lock up behind her, and walked to her car.

The driveway was empty in front of the house, so she slowly made her way up the stairs to her apartment. She walked into her bedroom and changed out of her work clothes. Looking in the mirror, she tugged at her shirt trying to pull it away from her curves.

You’re gaining weight. You know what that means.

She closed her eyes and willed the voice in her head to go away. Unfortunately, it was no use. So instead of the pasta she’d planned on fixing for dinner, she grilled up some chicken and made a salad.

Two hours later she was sitting on her couch reading when her phone rang, startling her. No one but Chris and Jan had her number.

Cautiously, she went to answer it. “Hello?”

“Did you think I’d let you get away that easily?”

“Who is this?” she whispered into the phone.

There was laughter and then, “It’s me, Stephanie. Seriously, Liz.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Sorry. I didn’t recognize your voice. How’d you get my number?”

“Come on. Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?”

She knew her old friend was probably standing in a designer suit with her hand on her hip, looking indignant. She couldn’t help but laugh at the image. “Sorry. I guess I had a memory lapse or something.”

“That’s okay,” Stephanie said. “I forgive you. I was calling to find out what you were doing for lunch Sunday. I figured maybe we could hit some shops in Dayton or something afterward. Catch up.”

She wasn’t sure. For the last month she’d had Sunday dinner with Jan, but just the thought of sitting in the same room with Chris and his silence filled her with dread. “Sure,” she said, not dwelling on it anymore. “I’d love to.”

The first thing Chris had done after calming down from his confrontation with Terry was to call his mom and see if she was up for a visit this weekend. She was, of course. Marilyn Daniels always had an open door when it came to her children.

Friday night had been difficult. He’d avoided going home for as long as he could. After swinging through a drive-thru for dinner, he’d gone to the hardware store, taking his time picking up things he really didn’t need. When he couldn’t avoid it any longer, he’d climbed back into his truck and drove home.

Once there, however, he hadn’t been able to sleep. The walls felt like they were creeping in on him.

Finally at six he hadn’t been able to take it anymore and got up. After throwing some clothes and bathroom supplies into his duffle bag and letting a concerned Jan know where he was going, he hopped into his truck and put some distance between him and Elizabeth Marshall.

He slammed the door of his pickup truck, and walked up the short path that led to his parents’ front door where his mom stood just inside waiting for him just as she had years ago as he and his three brothers were growing up. She hadn’t changed much aside from the addition of the gray that now streaked through her dark brown hair. Her arms opened, pulling him in for a warm hug.

“It’s so good to see you, Chris,” she said ushering him to a kitchen chair. “Did you want some coffee? Or maybe some juice? I think I’ve got some of that white grape juice you like so much.”

Chris chuckled. “I’m fine, Ma.”

She gave him a look that clearly said she doubted he was telling the truth.

“Really, I picked up some coffee on the way here. I’m good.”

She nodded, closed the refrigerator door, and took a sit next to him. “All right then, tell me what’s wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“Christopher Allen Daniels, do not play stupid with me. We’ve lived in this house for almost ten years now, and I can barely get you to come one Sunday a month. Last night you call, out of the blue, wanting to come for the weekend. Something is up.”

He took a deep breath and ran his hand over his face. Maybe coming here hadn’t been a bright idea. Maybe he should have just gone fishing or something. He grimaced. Fishing. Yeah, right. Just what he needed; endless hours with nothing but his thoughts that seemed to center on the one woman he was trying to
not
think about.

With a heavy sigh, he met his mother’s concerned eyes, feeling a sense of guilt for putting that look there, but he had no intention of dragging her into this mess. Besides, if she knew about Elizabeth, she’d only encourage him to go after her, which was the last thing he wanted.

Eventually, his mother sighed and stood, wrapping him in another hug. “I’m here if you want to talk and so is your father, but I understand if you feel you need to figure this out on your own. Whatever it is.” And then she left to go wake up his dad.

Chris spent the rest of Saturday working with his dad, Mike, out in the backyard. It was busy work like mowing the lawn and weeding the garden and flowerbeds; just the type of thing he needed to keep his mind busy. He missed the solitude of mind manual labor provided. Trent usually came over to help their parents with the yard work since he lived a little closer, owned his own landscaping business, and had all the right equipment. Their parents just weren’t able to keep up with it anymore on their own.

Dinner was a quiet affair. After working outside all day, the food was more than welcome.

He helped his mom clean up before going upstairs to the guest room where he’d stashed his things. The room was littered with pictures of his family. The newest picture was taken about five years ago and included the whole family. He picked it and studied it. Everyone looked so happy. Gage had just signed with Tennessee. Trent was standing proud, just having finished his first full year as a business owner. Paul stood with his arms wrapped around his wife, Melissa, whose belly was swollen with Chloe, still three months away from entering the world. And even he stood with a smile. He was newly married and happy. Even though Carol hadn’t made it to the family barbecue, times were still good. Everyone was happy. So much had changed in five short years.

Before he could let his mind travel any further down memory lane, he dug through his duffle for a clean pair of boxer shorts and T-shirt. What he needed was a shower and a good night’s sleep. He walked into the bathroom and turned on the water, watching the hard spray hit the tiles. Showers were simple and guaranteed. He wasn’t holding his breath on the sleep.

Somehow he did manage to get a solid eight hours of sleep. The only reasoning he had was all the physical labor he’d done the day before. Even with that, the first thought that crossed his mind as he worked toward consciousness had been Elizabeth laying on the hotel bed sleeping, her face relaxed, her hair feathered out on the white pillow. No matter how much he tried, he didn’t seem to be able to escape her. Not even at his parents.

Even though his mother hadn’t pried anymore the day before, she’d obviously decided to take a more direct approach this morning. Seconds after she set his breakfast in front of him, she said, “Jan told me you have a new assistant.”

He didn’t answer right away, but eventually responded with a quiet, “Yeah.”

“How’s she working out? Is she as efficient as Tara?”

“More,” he answered honestly. Tara had been good at her job, but Elizabeth went above and beyond. Whenever a client had called in, she’d gone out of her way to get all the information he needed, sometimes even thinking of things that would have never crossed his mind until much later in the process. Whenever she’d made a fresh pot of coffee, she’d asked if he’d wanted some even though she didn’t have to. Everything in the office was now organized and labeled so he could locate it quickly. She was clearly over qualified for the job, and he knew he should encourage her to find something more suitable, but if he were honest, he didn’t want to. And what did that say about him?