No One Needs to Know (3 page)

Did she dare push her luck?

Laurie told herself she’d be back inside the car within two minutes. That was certainly a lot less time and hassle than making a special trip here tomorrow morning. Just getting Joey dressed and strapped in his car seat always added an extra ten minutes to every trip—each way.

“Damn it,” she hissed, fishing her cell phone from her purse. She slipped it into the pocket of her waitress uniform, and then climbed out of the car. She warily glanced toward the access road. She didn’t see any cars. There was nothing, no sign of the silver minivan.

As she unlocked the restaurant door, the alarm went off. She rushed inside, shut the door and bolted it behind her. Leaving the key in the lock, she hurried into the kitchen. Laurie tried not to let the alarm’s incessant beeping unnerve her. She knew the disable code by heart: 8291940. The saloon doors were still swinging back and forth as she punched in the numbers on the lighted keypad. All at once, silence. It was a relief. But her heart was still racing.

In the darkness, Laurie made her way to the big refrigerator, and opened it. “Let there be light,” she whispered. Even for a normal evening, it would have been a bit scary poking around here in the dark.

She imagined stepping out of the kitchen—only to see her last customer standing on the other side of the plate glass window, staring in at her.

Laurie grabbed two large to-go bags, doubled them up, and quickly loaded the butter, milk, eggs, and orange juice inside. She closed the refrigerator door, and the kitchen was dark again.

The bag felt heavy and awkward as she lugged it toward the saloon doors. She set the activate code again, and then made a beeline for the entrance. She didn’t spot anyone out there, thank God. She unlocked the door, swung it open, and hurried outside. The bagful of groceries got in the way as she tried to lock up, and she couldn’t keep her hands from shaking. But she finally got the door locked.

Glancing toward the access road again, Laurie didn’t notice any headlights. She let out a sigh of relief, but then it caught in her throat.

There in the moonlight, she saw a vehicle slowly moving up the road—toward the restaurant, toward her. The headlights were off.

She wasn’t certain, because of the distance and the night, but it looked like a minivan.

Bolting toward the Camry, she dug the key from the pocket of her waitress uniform. She clicked the unlock button on the key ring device, and the Camry’s lights flickered. Pulling open the car door, she jumped inside and tossed the bag on the passenger side floor. She heard something crack inside the bag, but was too frazzled to care right now. Fumbling with the key, she struggled to get it in the ignition. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” she breathed.

Even with the window up, Laurie could hear the minivan’s engine now—and stray pieces of gravel crunching under its tires.

At last, she got the key in the ignition and started up the car. She backed out of the parking space, and then shifted gears. She was about to put her foot down on the accelerator when all at once, something blinded her. She hit the brake.

The minivan’s driver had switched on his brights. The van stopped at the narrowest part of the drive, where a curbed sidewalk jutted out at the edge of the parking lot. It was her only way out, and they had it blocked.

Squinting in the headlight beams, she could just barely make out the two silhouetted figures inside the front of the minivan. Someone climbed out on the passenger side, but she couldn’t quite see him. She heard the vehicle’s door shut.

Laurie immediately reached for the armrest, and with a click, locked the car doors.

The tall, lean man came into view, weaving toward her. He looked as if he were drunk. He banged his fist on the hood of her car. “Roll down your window!” he yelled, his voice only slightly muffled by the glass. “C’mon, Laurie, roll it down, before I break it!”

Reluctantly, she reached for the armrest switch. The window hummed as she lowered it a mere couple of inches. He glared at her through the narrow opening. Laurie stared back at him. “That was your brother, Ryder, in the restaurant earlier, wasn’t it?” she said. “I should have seen the family resemblance. What do you want, Tad?”

He drummed his fingers on the roof of the car—just above her head. His face came even closer to the glass.

For Laurie, seeing him again for the first time in four months was a shock. He looked terrible—like someone who was strung out on drugs or living on the streets. He used to have a sweet, goofy cuteness that made him endearing. But it was gone now.

He hadn’t answered her question. He just shook his head at her.

“What do you want?” Laurie asked again. Her foot was still on the brake.

He just glared at her, and kept drumming his fingers on the car roof.

“I can’t believe this,” Laurie said. “You used to tell me that your brother was bad news. You didn’t want anything to do with him. That therapist you were seeing called him a
sociopath.
Remember? So why did you send him into the diner to harass me? Or was that
his
idea? Are you two buddies now?”

“I just want to see my kid,” he replied—at last.

“He’s not your child,” Laurie said steadily. “You know that, Tad. I gave you proof—and it cost me dearly. It almost ended my marriage.”

“Well, your marriage did end,” Tad said. “The guy died. And I’m alive. Goddamn it, Laurie, you care about me! Quit trying to be the great, suffering, noble war widow. That routine might fool some people, but I know you—”

“Stop it,” she whispered. Her eyes were starting to hurt from the headlights’ blinding glare. “Just leave me alone.”

“I still have a right to see my own kid,” he argued.

“Good God, how many times do I have to tell you? Tad, I showed you the test results—”

“Ryder says you probably paid off some doctor to fake those documents. And I wouldn’t be surprised if you did, you lying bitch.”

“‘Lying bitch?’ I think that’s your brother talking. That’s not you. Why are you even listening to him?” She studied his ravaged face. If she weren’t so frightened, her heart would have been breaking for him. “What happened to you? You used to be sweet.”

“You can’t just
dump
people—”

“That was two years ago, Tad. Two years . . .”

“I was in love. We had something together. You can’t just pretend it didn’t happen. If I can’t have you . . .” He trailed off, and then suddenly banged on the hood.

Startled, Laurie reeled back.

“Get out of there!” he shouted. “Get out of that goddamn car right now!”

Laurie gaped at him, and then she realized her foot had been on the brake all this time. She turned and switched on her high beams. Tightening her grip on the wheel, she pushed down on the accelerator. The tires let out a loud screech as she sped toward the narrow section of road between the minivan and the edge of the sidewalk.

Tad jumped back from the car, and fell down on the pavement.

Laurie saw him only out of the corner of her eye as she plowed forward. For a second, the minivan’s headlights blinded her. Then she felt a jolt as the front passenger-side tire hit the curb and the car bounced up onto the sidewalk. She thought the Camry might tip over and crash into the other vehicle. The car’s underside scraped against the concrete, and she winced at the grating sound. She got another jolt when the back tire slammed into the curb. One side of the Camry careened along the walkway. She kept her foot on the accelerator, and didn’t let up.

Clearing the minivan, Laurie swerved back onto the driveway. She was almost certain she’d damaged the underside of the Camry, but she didn’t stop. She checked her rearview mirror to make sure Tad and his brother weren’t following her.

She didn’t see anything back there. Ryder must have turned off the minivan’s headlights. She turned down Canyon Road, and headed toward the center of town. There were other cars on the road, and that made her feel better. If the Camry were damaged and broke down on her, at least other drivers were around. She wouldn’t be totally helpless.

She tried to tell herself that everything was okay. But her heart was still racing.

Laurie pressed the switch on her armrest, and her window descended. The cool breeze through the open window was refreshing. She thought about calling the police. But what would she tell them?
I’m worried, because the guy I slept with a few times while my husband was fighting in Afghanistan is now harassing me—him and his sociopath brother.

She kept thinking that she deserved this. Everyone who knew her—or knew of her—would think the same thing.

No, she couldn’t call the police.

Right now, she just wanted to get home. She glanced in the rearview mirror again. She didn’t see the minivan anywhere back there. They weren’t following her. Then again, they didn’t have to.

They knew where she lived.

Her home was on Wilmington Court, a cul-de-sac about half a mile from the university. As she turned down the block, Laurie kept a lookout for the minivan. Tad and his brother couldn’t have made it there before her. She’d gone over the speed limit most of the drive home. Still, she kept her eyes peeled.

Laurie pulled up in front of her duplex, a charmless, beige stucco—one of four that made up the Bancroft Townhome Apartments. Her apartment was on the first floor. The inside of the unit was just as drab as the exterior. With the imitation parquet floors and the cheap-looking wood doors, cabinets, and accents, Laurie figured the place must have been built in a hurry sometime in the mid-eighties and never been updated.

She’d always hated it.

After Brian had joined the army and been shipped to a base in Heidelberg, Laurie vacated their old apartment, put everything into storage, and traveled to Paris. She’d studied with master chefs at the École Ritz Escoffier and lived in a tiny, ridiculously expensive studio—with a view of the Eiffel Tower if she stood on a chair and stuck her head out the window. She was blowing her entire savings from years of waitressing, but she’d never been so happy. She and Brian would get together practically every weekend. Cramming in as much as they could during those forty-eight-hour increments, they’d explored cheap places to stay all over Europe.

Then he’d gotten his orders to go to Afghanistan. They’d given him a two-week furlough, and Brian had decided they should take that time to return to Ellensburg and establish a home base. Laurie had resisted. But he’d made it clear to her. They were running out of money. If she stayed on in Paris, they’d be broke within a month. He wanted her stateside or at least at one of the resident facilities on the base in Heidelberg, someplace where he knew she was safe. He’d have enough to worry about while in Afghanistan. He didn’t want to be worried about her, too. Five weeks away from earning her diploma from the cooking school, Laurie had to quit.

Brian had chosen the dumpy two-bedroom at Bancroft Townhomes because it was within their budget, and the extra room would come in handy in case her mother ever wanted to visit. Brian had no family, and he’d gotten close to her mom. That was the way it was. Everyone liked Brian. But Laurie couldn’t help resenting him a little. Even though she’d fixed up the apartment the best she could, she was miserable there. But she didn’t dare complain. After all, Brian had it far worse than she did.

Still, she’d gone from a culinary class at the Ritz Hotel in Paris to the Superstar Diner in Ellensburg. Instead of looking out her window at the City of Lights, she had a view of another lousy, rundown apartment complex on Wilmington Court.

Laurie turned off the ignition, and stared at the duplex.

Through the living room picture window, she could see her neighbor and Joey’s babysitter, Krista, curled up on the sofa, working on her laptop. Laurie often sat in that very same spot while watching TV, reading, or playing with Joey. But it wasn’t until now, looking in from the outside, that she realized how truly vulnerable and exposed they were.

The light from the computer illuminated Krista’s face as she focused on her studies. She was cute, with short-cropped strawberry blond hair, freckles, and a curvy figure. Krista and her husband, Nathan, were working on their master’s degrees. They lived in the next apartment complex down—at the end of the cul-de-sac. Krista often said how much she admired Laurie for working full-time and raising a baby on her own. But Laurie knew she couldn’t have managed without Krista’s help. Nathan had a job as a campus security guard from five until midnight. That left Krista free to babysit Joey three nights a week while Laurie had the closing shift at the Superstar Diner. Joey was in Happy Train Daycare the other two days Laurie worked.

Laurie hoisted up the bag from the passenger floor. It was leaking. At least a couple of the eggs must have broken, maybe the whole carton. “Fine, terrific, one more thing,” she muttered, climbing out of the car. The Camry let out a beep as she locked it with the remote device. Then she headed toward her front door.

From inside came a bark. It was Krista and Nathan’s black Lab, Frannie. The door flung open before Laurie got the key in. “Shhhhh, Frannie,” Krista whispered. “You’ll wake Joey.” She looked at Laurie, and then at the bag. “You’re dripping.”