Authors: Dawn Atkins
Beth Ann turned for the hall. Cara didn’t trust her not to
eavesdrop and Rosie might return any minute. “Let’s talk downstairs,” she said,
starting for the door. When they reached the café, she turned on him.
“You had no right to contradict me with my daughter.”
“You were scaring her. She’s only a kid.”
“She needs to be scared. We’re in danger. One slip and he’ll
find us. She knows we have to be vigilant.”
“Trust me, she’s already plenty vigilant. She was terrified I
would tell you she’s been using Instant Message.”
“She what?” Cara froze. “She’s been online?”
“She uses my computer to text her friends. She told me she’s
safe about it.”
“Safe? Are you kidding me? It’s not possible to be safe online.
My ex-husband has flagged our internet IDs for sure. What friends? Was one of
them Serena?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t look.”
“Serena is from where we were living before. Barrett would have
talked to her. The TV spot is nothing compared to this.” Cara could hardly
breathe. Fear poured through her. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” she
said, her mind spinning with the implications.
“You were getting along better with her and I didn’t want to
mess that up.”
“So you put our lives in danger.”
“That’s extreme, Cara.”
“When she said I didn’t want her online, you should have known
I had good reasons. You should have told me, Jonah.”
“Your ex isn’t a superspy. He can’t be everywhere.”
She glared at him. “My husband is a family-practice lawyer. He
knows police, prosecutors, judges. He hires investigators to track deadbeat
dads. He’s rich and ruthless.” She paused for air. “On top of that, my own
mother is helping him.”
That hurt more than she’d let herself know.
Jonah looked chastened. “You should have told me.”
“The less anyone knows about us, the safer we are. You should
have trusted me.”
He thought about that for a moment. “You have to be careful,
sure, but it’s far-fetched to think that a few text messages and a ten-second TV
shot will bring the guy here. Beth Ann’s been online for weeks. If your ex was
that diabolical, wouldn’t he be here by now?”
She hated the sneer in his voice, the condescension.
That was how Barrett talked to her.
A chill made her
spine tingle. “Don’t you dare mock me. I’m not a child afraid of the
bogeyman.”
“I’m asking you to be reasonable. You can’t jump at every
shadow. That’s no way to live.”
Cara was so angry she saw red. “Listen to me. I know what I’m
talking about. When I tried to leave him, he nearly killed me. He slammed me
into a washing machine and left me for dead.”
Jonah paled. “My God.”
“If my next-door neighbor hadn’t checked on me, I would have
been. As it was, I was in a coma for five days.” The words seemed to tear at her
throat as she said them, making it burn.
Jonah stared at her, horrified.
“He’s obsessed with us. He wants us back. He wrote letter after
letter from prison saying that without us he can’t go on living.”
Cara swallowed hard. “Am I getting through to you? Can you see
the tabloid headline in the making?
Abusive husband
fulfills prison vow—shoots wife and daughter, turns gun on self.
It
happens every day to women like me.”
The words made the danger real. They echoed in the air. They
made her shake. “I do not intend to be a statistic, Jonah. If that makes me
paranoid, then so be it.”
She felt so betrayed, so alone. She knew what she had to do.
She had to leave. She’d known that from the beginning, but she’d been seduced
into a sense of false security, lulled by the comforts of the café, the people,
the joy of being needed…loved.
“What can I do to make you feel safe?” Jonah said.
“Make me
feel
safe? You think
that’s all I need?
There, there, little lady, don’t you
worry. I’ll scare away that nasty monster you think is under the
bed?
”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“Then what did you mean? You’ll guard us? Stand outside our
door at night with a rifle? And even if you wanted to, you leave for New York
Thursday, remember?”
“So come with me.” His eyes raced back and forth. He was
thinking out loud. “We’ll rent a place. That was my plan anyway. You’ll be safe
in New York. I’ll come back to get Rosie through her treatments and make sure
the café’s staffed properly, then join you for good. You and Beth Ann.”
She stared at him, totally blown away. “You would do that?”
Jonah would throw his life into chaos to save her from what he
saw was unnecessary panic. Her fury melted instantly, replaced by relief and
gratitude.
New York was huge, totally anonymous. The headquarters of the
domestic violence network was there. Surely she’d be safe. She’d be far away
from Barrett. She’d be with the man she loved.
“I love you,” he said. “I need to take care of you.”
Need to.
The words pulled her up
short. So did the determined set of his jaw. This was his
duty
as her guardian, the way he saw it. He no doubt wanted to make
up for how he thought he’d failed Suzanne, too.
“Jonah…” She felt so sad she almost couldn’t say what she had
to say. “No. You don’t.” Then she realized something more important than Jonah
seeing her as a responsibility.
“You can’t rescue me,” she said, ashamed that she’d even for a
moment considered that. “That’s my job. Handing over my life to a man is what
got me in trouble in the first place. I got myself into this. I have to get
myself out of it.”
Cara had let herself lean on Jonah just as she had with
Barrett. Jonah wasn’t Barrett, but there were too many echoes, too many
similarities—Jonah’s strength, his temper, his protective nature, his urge to
ease burdens that were rightly hers to carry.
If she went with him to New York, every time he raised his
voice, she would be reminded of Barrett. Every time they argued or she felt
belittled or patronized, she would become the timid girl she’d been in her
marriage.
Maybe all men would become Barrett for her. Maybe she’d wanted
so much to be normal that she’d fooled them both into thinking she was.
“I want to do whatever you need me to do,” he said
stubbornly.
“I need you to step back,” she said levelly. “You can’t make up
for what happened with Suzanne. You think you failed her. I don’t believe that.
You haven’t failed me or anyone else here—Evan or Rosie or Beth Ann.”
Her words hit home. She could see it in his face. He
was
trying to make up for his past and her refusal had
hurt him, but it couldn’t be helped.
“You don’t have to do this alone.”
“Yes, I do. And staying here with you makes it worse. It’s time
for us to leave.” She knew it with everything in her. It was the TV segment,
Beth Ann’s texts to her friends, possibly Serena, and it was Jonah. Being with
him had healed her in some ways, but it had also set her back, made her weaker,
more dependent.
He stared at her. “You don’t mean today.”
“As soon as I can arrange things at the café. Rusty’s working
on my car, but I’ll have to tell him to make it
fast
and
good
instead of
cheap
and
good
.” Her mind raced with the
details. “Darlene can take over for me. Charlie can take the extra shifts she
had. She said they’re low on cash. I’ll try to get a part-time baker to help
Ernesto.”
“You’re serious.” It wasn’t a question.
She nodded. “Before you go to New York, could you take the
trailer to Rusty’s and hitch it on? For the chair?” She swallowed against the
sudden sadness that hit her.
“You’re leaving before I get back?”
“As soon as we’re able to, Jonah.” Tomorrow would be their last
day together. The thought made her feel so faint she grabbed the counter to keep
her balance. Early Thursday morning, Rosie was taking Jonah to the airport. She
had chemotherapy that afternoon and would stay the weekend with Frieda,
returning Sunday after she picked up Jonah from the airport.
“Why drag this out?” she said.
Hurt flew across Jonah’s face, but it turned to anger. “It’s
your call. It always has been. I’ll get the trailer to Rusty.” He turned and
walked out, his stride angry. He shoved open the door so hard she feared the
glass would shatter. Then he was gone.
Cara felt so alone, so scared. She wanted to run after him,
take it all back, tell him they’d go to New York, that she couldn’t do this by
herself.
You can handle this. You have
to.
She had bags to pack and arrangements to make. She took a deep
breath and headed upstairs to talk to Beth Ann.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
T
HE
NEXT
AFTERNOON
, Jonah flipped the café sign to
Closed,
ending the last day he’d ever work with Cara.
They’d been too busy to talk much. Evan had shadowed him, since
he would be covering the grill while Jonah was in New York. When Cara wasn’t
waiting tables, she was making lists for him, Darlene and Ernesto or calling
part-time bakers.
It was stupid for her to run off like this. Beth Ann swore her
friend Serena had never gotten her messages. The TV spot brought in new
customers and phone orders, but there was no way her ex-husband had seen it.
But she was determined to escape. There was panic in her blue
eyes, her pink smell had gone sharp with fear and her fake smile was back.
Big-time.
She couldn’t wait to get away from him. That was the truth of
it.
He walked toward her. She stood behind the counter, keeping her
distance as she had all day. She gave him that false smile. He hated that.
He didn’t bother to fake one back.
“I think I found a baker,” she said with false cheer.
He didn’t reply.
Cara twisted the towel in her hand, looking uncertain. “Guess
this is it. Last day in the café.”
“Last day,” he echoed, his throat tight. He would see her
briefly in the morning before he left, but Evan would be there and Rosie. This
was it. Goodbye forever.
She came around the counter. “I don’t know how to say goodbye
to you,” she said, her eyes shimmering like wet varnish.
Don’t go. Stay with me. We’ll build a life
together.
Impossible with his stunted soul, but he couldn’t help
wanting that.
“Come see me tonight,” he said. They could make love one last
time, part with that memory, at least.
She shook her head. “It would hurt too much.”
“Dammit, it already hurts too much.” He pulled her into his
arms, tucking her head under his chin, feeling all of her against him,
memorizing her shape, her smell, the weight of her. He felt so empty.
Cara broke away. “This is for the best, Jonah. I was wrong to
think I was better. The specter will always be there. I’ll spend my whole life
afraid that any man I love will turn into Barrett.” She swallowed hard.
“You just need time.”
She shook her head. “I’m broken.” Then she got a fiery look in
her eye. “But you’re not. You need to know that. You are a good and loving man
who does all he can to help the people he loves. You haven’t let me down or Beth
Ann or Rosie or Evan or—” She started to cry. “Oh, Jonah…” She threw herself
into his arms.
He couldn’t stand to see her cry. Hell, he felt like crying,
too—big gulping sobs, as if he were a kid experiencing his first heartbreak. He
felt like he was about to lose his last chance at happiness.
Jonah pulled back and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his
thumbs. “Wait for me,” he ground out. “Be here when I get back from New
York.”
“I can’t....” But he could see she wanted to.
“Sure you can. We’ll have a farewell dinner. You can make a
kitchen-sink salad for Rosie, hear how her chemo went.” By then maybe he’d have
figured something out, found the right words, found a way to fix this. Hell, he
wasn’t ready to let her go.
“That would be nice.” She held his gaze and he felt the rush of
desire again, stronger than ever. How would he ever get over her?
“Do you regret us?” she said in a trembling voice. “Because I
don’t. Maybe it was a cheat, but it was good for me.
You
were good for me.”
“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time,”
he said. And losing her would be the worst.
* * *
“B
E
REASSURING
and calm,” Barrett said to Deborah,
holding the phone over the gearshift box. “Whatever you do, don’t frighten her.”
He wished he could do the talking, but Deborah would be a more familiar voice to
Beth Ann. Foolish and clumsy as she was, Deborah would pave his way.
“I know how to talk to my own granddaughter.”
He just hoped to hell she wouldn’t babble like she’d done
nonstop since he’d picked her up in Barstow.
After dozens of calls to highway-side restaurants, Barrett’s
P.I. had hit pay dirt in an Arizona tourist town, where he’d talked to the owner
of a bistro who’d mentioned a diner with a new waitress who’d been in the news
for baking special dinner rolls.
To be sure it was Cara, Barrett had found the news clip on the
TV station’s website. When Beth Ann appeared, with her soulful blue eyes and
button nose, his heart almost stopped.
Barrett had wanted to grab them immediately, but he knew if he
pounced, Cara would flee. She had histrionic personality disorder, he’d
discovered, which predisposed her to paranoia and panic, so he needed a good
plan.
Now he had one. First, he’d called the bowling alley bar guy
interviewed in the story, pretending to be a travel reporter doing a follow-up
story.
Evan Gold had been delighted to tell Barrett all he needed to
know about the café, the baker and her daughter. They were going by ridiculous
aliases—
CJ
and
Bunny
Peyton.
Barrett and Deborah had reached New Hope Thursday night. He’d
spent Friday and Saturday putting his plan in place and observing Cara and Beth
Ann as best he could from the parking lot.
The plan had come together, the timing tight, but doable. In
some ways it was perfect. According to Gold, Cara and Beth Ann would be leaving
town tomorrow morning.
Instead, they’d leave today with Barrett—departing before the
café’s cook and owner got back, saving all those awkward questions.
A half hour ago, Cara had driven off on a wild goose chase he’d
sent her on, so he had time to connect with Beth Ann. Cara was on her way to
meet with a commercial bakery she thought wanted to sell her good-luck buns
wholesale. His P.I. had been quite convincing on the phone.
Commercial Kitchens only leased kitchen space, however, and by
the time the misunderstanding was sorted out, Barrett and Beth Ann would be
happily reunited and eager for Cara’s return.
Thinking about it gave Barrett a rush of pleasure. He loved
when a plan came to fruition.
Watching Cara through the café window these past two days made
him remember Dolly’s, where he would drink cup after cup of coffee just to watch
her move and smile, to hear the sweet ring of her laughter.
To be proper, he’d waited until she was eighteen to ask her
out. It had been torture, but worth the wait.
It would be worth the wait now. Worth every desperate,
agonizing day he’d spent behind bars. The six weeks he’d been searching for them
had seemed even more excruciating.
Now he faced the crucial moment—talking to Beth Ann. He’d seen
her in the window of her room with that ugly black cat. She’d spent the previous
day playing in a tree house with it and a little girl, but she was alone
now.
He ached to feel her arms around his neck and hear her say
I love you, Daddy, so, so, so much
like she used
to. All the years he’d missed with her, all the little moments, the gestures,
the shared secrets and jokes. Fury spiked in his head.
Stop. Think. Be still.
It wasn’t
fury.
It was
hurt.
For people with his condition,
hurt
became
anger
became
violence,
like flipped switches. The little
white pills broke the circuit. They made him dizzy and foggy, but that was a
small price to pay to be worthy of his family again.
“Here we go,” he said to Deborah, pushing Talk, ringing Beth
Ann’s phone. If she didn’t answer, he’d have to be more aggressive. He hoped it
wouldn’t come to that, but he’d do what he had to do.
He would not lose them again.
* * *
B
ETH
A
NN
’
S
FACE
hurt
from trying not to cry. She sat on her bed holding Louis beside her empty
suitcase. She was supposed to be packed when her mom got back from the bakery
meeting. They were leaving in the morning.
She was too sad to pack.
It felt like they were already gone. Evan was at the grill
instead of Jonah and Darlene was doing her mom’s job. Yesterday, when Rachel had
to go home, it had felt like leaving Serena all over again.
They had to run again and it was all Beth Ann’s fault.
She gritted her teeth, so mad at herself for letting Amanda
pull her in front of the TV camera. Plus, Jonah had told her mom about IM’ing
Serena. Her mother had been so scared and disappointed in Beth Ann that Beth Ann
had felt like throwing up. No way could she tell her about the phone calls after
that.
The Terrible Thing was her fault and now this was, too.
Beth Ann buried her face in Louis’s fur. “I wish you could
come,” she whispered. But the apartment was no-pets. Louis wouldn’t understand
why she’d gone away. He would just feel lonely again and lost. That made her
heart ache and her stomach burn.
She hugged him, but he squirmed away, going to the door to
shake himself and wait for her.
“Want to go to the castle?” She had to get her comic books
anyway.
Just as she reached for the doorknob, she heard a buzzing sound
from her bed. It was the secret phone in her puzzle box.
Was Serena calling her at last? She pushed the hidden latches
and picked up the phone, her heart pounding.
Private name,
private number.
Did Serena have a new phone? She clicked Talk.
“H-h-hello?”
“Beth Ann? It’s Grandma Price. Surprise!”
She was so shocked, it took her a long time to speak.
“Grandma?” Her skin tingled all over and she felt like she had to pee.
“We got your number from your little friend Serena. Such a nice
little girl and so polite. Are you glad to hear my voice?”
“Y-yes,” she said, but she was too dizzy to know for sure. Why
would Serena tell Grandma Price about the phone? It was a pinky-swear
secret.
Her grandma’s voice sounded too cheerful, like when the nurse
said the shot would be just a pinch, when it was really a long, burning
stab.
“You sound so grown up,” her grandma said. “I’ve missed you
like crazy. My poor shoulders are in knots. You are the best shoulder
rubber....”
In the background, a man grumbled.
“Okay, okay,” her grandma said crossly to the man. “I have
another surprise,” she said into the phone. “Guess who wants to talk to
you?”
“Serena?”
“No, silly. Your daddy.”
“What?” Her entire body turned to hot liquid. Her dad was in
her grandma’s house. He wanted to talk to her. Her mom would be crazy mad. “I’m
not supposed to have this phone. I have to hang up.” She felt like crying.
“Don’t do that. Your daddy wants to ask you to forgive him and
for you to have a fresh start as a family.”
He wanted
her
to forgive
him?
“You want that, don’t you?” her grandma said. “To have your
family back? He’s not mad about prison. He’s just glad to be home. And your mom
wants to be a family, too, I’m sure.”
“No. She’s scared of him.” She felt hot all over, caught and
pulled apart. She took gulping breaths, holding back her sob.
“Well, that’s just stupid. Your mom has a rock-hard heart. I’ve
been through this and through this with her. It was an
accident.
It takes two to tango. Now quit crying, for heaven’s sake,
and—”
“It’s all right, Beth Ann.”
The man’s voice was so strong Beth Ann jumped, nearly dropping
the phone. It was her dad.
Her dad was on the phone.
She couldn’t breathe.
“Sometimes your grandmother doesn’t choose her words well.” He
sounded so close, almost inside her head. “I love you so much. And your mom.”
His voice shook like he was going to cry. “I hate that you’re afraid of me.”
It was all too much, like the blackness in her brain times ten.
She didn’t want it to be real.
“I can’t talk. I have to go. Bye.” She held down the end button
until the phone went totally black, put it in the box, then threw it in the
trash can by the door. She should never have taken it out of the trash in the
first place.
Calm down. They don’t know where you
are.
She’d never told Serena, so they couldn’t know. She had to get
away from the phone, so she picked up Louis and went out.
Downstairs, Evan saw her and yelled, “Where you headed?”
“Out to the tree house,” she said. Her mom had asked Evan to
keep an eye on her until she got back. Beth Ann didn’t need a babysitter, but
once her mom saw Beth Ann on TV and learned about the messages, she’d been
punishing Beth Ann, treating her like a baby, worrying and always watching.
It’s your own fault.
If only she’d
run from that reporter, none of this would have happened. Sometimes she was so
dumb she hated herself.
Beth Ann was in her castle, reading a comic with Louis on her
lap when she heard the click of a shoe on the ladder. She looked over, expecting
Rachel, but a man’s head popped up through the hole. Louis hissed. Beth Ann
yelled.
“It’s me, Bethie. Don’t you recognize me?” It was her dad. His
face was thinner and his black hair was gray, but it was him. Her whole body
tingled. Was she dreaming? This couldn’t be true. Her dad had found her. Her mom
would be so mad. She shouldn’t have answered the phone.
Her dad climbed into the fort. Louis ran up Beth Ann’s body and
flew out the window. She wished she could go with him.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Her dad sat cross-legged on the
floor in brown pants too dressy for the castle. So was his silk shirt. Why was
he here? This was wrong, all wrong.