Behind Closed Doors (16 page)

Chris seemed less than amused as he pushed himself forcefully from his chair and excused himself, disappearing into the house. She just didn’t understand him.

Fifteen minutes later, Chris emerged from the house and offered to help his father with the grilling.

The day continued on in that vein with the brothers flirting with her and Chris getting ticked off, disappearing into the house only to reappear fifteen to twenty minutes later. She tried not to let it ruin her day, but try as she might, she couldn’t remain unaffected.

As they were getting ready to leave, Trent cornered her. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out to dinner with me on Saturday. I know this great Mexican place in Dayton.”

She looked behind him to Chris and Trent followed her line of sight before she could catch herself.

“Are you and Chris . . .”

“No,” she said unable to keep the disappointment completely out of her voice. “No.”

“Well then, there’s no reason for you not to accept, is there? Or don’t you like me?”

That made her laugh, which drew Chris’s attention. She caught his stare and it sobered her. She turned her attention back to Trent and kept it there. “Okay. Sure. I haven’t had Mexican in a long time.”

Trent’s smile was the kind that would have girls swooning. Unfortunately, she feared her heart was already attached to someone else.

“Excellent! I’ll pick you up at five thirty.”

She smiled. “I’ll see you Saturday, then.”

Before she knew what was happening, Trent leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. She blushed. “Till Saturday,” he whispered before stepping away.

Okay,
Chris thought.
This is my own stupid, moronic, idiotic fault.

All the way home, he was fuming. Seeing Trent with his lips on Elizabeth had made him want to break something, preferably something attached to his brother. He’d never felt this way before, not even with Carol, and his head was spinning.

No one said a word during the hour-long drive home. Even Jan was oddly quiet.

It was a little before midnight when they pulled up to the house. Elizabeth and Jan got out first while he hung back. He just wasn’t ready to deal with whatever had happened between her and Trent.

From the cab of his truck, he watched the two women approach the door. Jan stopped, reached down, and picked up what looked to be a newspaper, and Elizabeth peered over Jan’s shoulder to look at whatever it was. Suddenly both women stiffened, and Chris was out of the truck like lightning. He took the paper from Jan and looked at it.

The newspaper was dated seven months ago, and on the front page was a large picture of a woman dressed in designer clothes. Even with her head down and surrounded by police officers, the woman was still recognizable.

The headline read: M
URDER
OR
S
ELF
D
EFENSE
?

Whoever had left the newspaper had added a personal touch, outlining the word
Murder
in dark red ink, circling her face, and drawing an
X
through it.

Chris scanned the area, but the person who’d left the paper was probably long gone. “Let’s get inside,” he said, not wanting to take any chances.

After checking the alarm, he made the two women wait in the foyer while he checked the rest of the house and alarms. Everything appeared secure. At least that was something.

Before returning, he took out his cell phone.

“Hello?” A groggy voice answered.

“Detective Stephens?”

“Yes,” he said, sounding more alert. “Who’s this?”

“My name is Chris Daniels. I live in the building with Elizabeth Marshall. You told her to call if anything else happened.”

“Yes, I did.” He could hear shifting in the background and figured the detective was probably getting out of bed.

After Chris told him what happened, he said, “Someone is at the house now?”

“Yes. We’re all here.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Detective Stephens didn’t stay long. He asked a bunch of questions such as where they’d been, what time they’d left and returned home, which Chris answered. Elizabeth wasn’t feeling up to dealing with people. In fact, what she wanted to do was hide in her bedroom for about a week.

“Ms. Marshall?’

She looked up at the detective from where she sat on Jan’s couch with a cup of hot chocolate cupped in her hands. He was much older than she’d originally thought when she’d spoken with him over the phone. He had laugh lines around his mouth and eyes, and gray speckled through his light brown hair. “I’ve checked the surrounding area. Everything looks secure. I’m taking the paper with me and will have it dusted for prints, although getting a clean one off newspaper is tricky with the ink they use. I would suggest you have someone with you at all times when you go out, and make sure your doors are locked until we can find out who’s behind this.”

She just stared at him until she realized he was waiting for a response. “Sure.”

“You don’t have any idea who could be behind this?” He seemed doubtful.

Her shoulders sagged as she released a deep breath. “No. I mean, you read the article in the paper. People weren’t all that happy about what happened, but I never expected anyone to track me down here. Why would they?”

“Mr. Daniels said you received a phone call last week from your mother-in-law.”

She shook her head. “Abigail’s angry, yes, but I can’t see her doing this. She’s a very straightforward kind of person. She’d just show up on my doorstep and slap me, or something.”

“Grief can cause people to act out of character, Ms. Marshall.”

She shook her head. “It’s not her.”

“Well,” the detective said, straightening up, “I’m going to check it out anyway, just to be sure.”

She nodded, not feeling like arguing a moot point.

When they were alone again, Jan sat beside her. “Is there anything I can do dear?”

“No, but thanks. I think I’m just going to go up to bed now.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay here if you’d like.”

“Thank you. Again. But I’d really like to sleep in my own bed.” When it looked like Jan was going to argue, she said, “We have the alarm, and they didn’t come inside this time. I’ll be fine. Besides, you and Chris are right next door.”

Jan patted her arm and stood. “Okay then. You come get me if you need anything or if you change your mind.”

“I will.”

She returned her empty mug to the kitchen and hugged Jan goodnight before trudging her way up the single flight of stairs to her apartment. When she reached the landing, she noticed Chris standing in his doorway.

“You’re sleeping up here?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He nodded, not seeming surprised. “My door is staying open tonight,” he said and then turned and walked up the stairs, the door remaining open just as he’d said it would.

For some reason, everything felt different as she walked into her apartment, alone for the first time since that morning. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Flashes of that night came back to her, and she could feel the blood covering her hands along with the porcelain from the vase she’d used to defend herself and ultimately put an end to her abuser.

With desperation, she ran to her bathroom and turned on the shower. She felt so dirty. The only thing driving her was the need to get clean. As she stepped in, she thought,
Will I ever get my life back?
She began to cry.

Chris knocked his alarm to the floor in the process of trying to turn it off before rubbing the sleep from his eyes and making his way to the bathroom. It was going to be a long day considering his lack of sleep and motivation. Morning had come too soon. Detective Stephens hadn’t left until two in the morning, and getting to sleep after had been difficult. His mind just wouldn’t shut down, and he was glad he didn’t have to see any clients today.

Every time he closed his eyes, Elizabeth was there. Sometimes he thought of completely innocent things like her tapping her pen against her desk, as she was prone to do when she was deep in thought. Other times, usually right before he was about to drift off, his thoughts of her ran in a more erotic direction.

Last night they’d taken on the memory from last week of her walking out of his bedroom in nothing but his shirt and the blanket from his bed. Her bare legs teased him as they peeked beneath the thick fabric as if calling for him to unwrap her like a present, carry her back into his bedroom, and make her scream his name.

Thinking about all the ways he wanted to ravish her was not conducive to restful sleep. It was also rather uncomfortable.

After showering, he dressed in his work clothes and walked down the flight of stairs to his front door. It was still open, just as he’d left it the night before. Her door was closed, and he couldn’t hear any movement inside. That was good. She needed her rest.

Chris paused at her door, trying to imagine what she’d look like curled up in her bed fast asleep. The keys he carried to each of the apartments weighted heavy in his pocket tempting him, but he pushed the impulse aside. The last thing she needed after last night was him creeping into her apartment and startling her.

He forced himself keep walking until he stopped in front of Jan’s door and knocked.

It took her a while to get to the door, and he heard her pause, checking through the newly installed peephole to see who was outside before opening her door. She was still in her nightclothes, which wasn’t surprising considering it was only seven thirty in the morning. “Chris,” she said, surprised. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine as far as I can tell. I’m going to have a walk around outside before I leave just to be sure.”

“Oh, okay. Good.”

“I was wondering if you could bring Elizabeth to work this morning. I’d rather her not be alone.”

“That’s not a problem. I don’t have any plans today.”

“Thanks,” he said, and then he turned to head out.

“Chris?” she said and he turned around. “What if she doesn’t want me to take her? She might not—”

“After last night, I’d rather not take any chances. Whatever you have to do—whatever you have to say . . .” he let his voice trail off and took a deep breath. “Someone went to a lot of trouble to get inside her apartment and then leave that newspaper where it was sure to be found. Until we know who’s behind this, I don’t want to take any chances.”

Before Jan could respond, Chris disappeared out the front door.

He slid into the seat of his truck and let his head fall to the steering wheel. In all his years, Chris could never remember being this scared about anything or anyone. Maybe the cop was right. Maybe the person just wanted to frighten her, but the possibility that they could take it to the next level was there, nagging him.