LITMIR.BIZ

      Chapter Three

      Donna’s hands perspired as she fumbled through the old photographs she’d found in the manila envelope in the basement. She knew so little about Carl. She’d never realized it before. She sensed he had two lives, one he allowed her to see and one he kept hidden. She didn’t like either of them anymore.

      “Mom.”

      Her heart jumped when she heard Connie’s voice. “I’m down in the basement, sweetie. I’ll be up in a minute.” She glanced around the corner toward the staircase to make sure Connie hadn’t come down.

      Donna pushed the items back into the metal box she’d found in the closet under the stairs. Old newspaper clippings, photographs, things she didn’t have time to scrutinize. She was ashamed of herself for being so suspicious, but the more Carl pushed her away and the more volatile he became, the more she wanted to know about him. Maybe if she learned something significant she could forgive him—or if not, have the power to escape.

      A photograph fell to the floor, and Donna reached to retrieve it.

      “Where are you?”

      Donna’s chest tightened at the sound of Connie’s voice so near. She slipped the photo into her pants pocket, then snapped the lid on the box and slid it back into its hiding place.

      “Right here, sweetie.”

      Donna came around the corner and met Connie head-on. “Oops. Let’s get upstairs.”

      “Whatcha doing?”

      Her mind scrambled. “I was looking for something I misplaced. It’s not here.”

      Connie gave her a questioning look, then skipped up the stairs ahead of her, calling back, “Can I have a snack?”

      “Fruit,” Donna said, following her into the kitchen. “How was school?”

      Donna rinsed off an apple and handed it to Connie while she listened to her tales of the “bad boys” in her class, Connie’s recess escapades and a star she had received for helping a girl with math.

      As Donna began dinner, she watched the child—her animation, her blond ponytail swinging back and forth and her blue eyes wide with excitement. Donna sensed that Connie felt closer to her than to her father, and her heart swelled.

      When Connie had finished her story and bounded off to change her school clothes, Donna slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out the photo. She needed to get it back into the envelope before Carl found it and punished her for snooping—as he called it—but she believed a wife deserved to know something about her husband’s past.

      When she lowered her gaze to the photograph, Donna’s heart stopped. Looking like he did before she married him, Carl stood outside a large brick home beside a dark-haired woman who held a toddler in her arms. Donna looked closer, trying to make sense out of the picture. If this was Carl’s deceased wife and Connie, something was terribly wrong.

      This child had dark hair like her parents. Connie was blond.

      Benjamin came through the front door in the wake of a cold wind. Joanne struggled to push the door closed.

      “I think that’s what they mean by blowing into town,” he said, sliding off his jacket.

      Joanne laughed. “I should have told you not to come over tonight.”

      “No, I should have taken you out. There’s a nice rhythm and blues group at the Java Café. You’d probably enjoy them.”

      “I might,” she said, motioning him into the living room.

      He went ahead of her and settled into a recliner, then clicked up the footrest while she sank into a comfy chair nearby. “I hope you wanted me to make myself at home.”

      She grinned again. Benjamin always seemed at home when he visited. He was the kind of easygoing guy she admired.

      They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, eyes turned to the window.

      “It’s snowing again,” she said finally. “The ski resorts must be thrilled.”

      “I’m sure.”

      Her gaze drifted to him, and she realized he was studying her. His look left her uneasy. “Is something wrong?”

      He gave a quick nod. “I’m just thinking about you.”

      “Me?”

      “You and the voice. How’s it going?”

      Again she didn’t like the flippant way he asked, but she knew he hadn’t meant it to sound callous. “I haven’t called the shrink yet, if that’s what you’re asking.”

      “No, not that,” he said, scrutinizing her, “but something else happened today.”

      “Yes, it did,” she replied, wondering how he could tell. “This time at work.”

      “A phone call?”

      “No. An e-mail. It was strange.”

      “Strange how?”

      She told him about the message and how edgy it had made her.

      “It’s the same as a wrong telephone number. It’s easy to mix up an e-mail address. I’d guess it wasn’t meant for you.”

      “Probably.” She pushed her uncomfortable thoughts aside.

      “And it wasn’t really a threat, but just in case, save it when you’re at work tomorrow.”

      “Why, if it’s nothing?”

      “I’ll mention it to my detective friend Hank Cortezi and see what he thinks.”

      “No. Don’t.” Panic settled in her chest. “I’ve already made a fool of myself. Let’s drop it. I’m sure it was sent to me by mistake.”

      Benjamin leaned closer, his face strained. “I’m worried about you, Joanne.”

      “I’m trying to reconcile myself to what it means, Benjamin. I know the snow, the holidays, make me nostalgic. It’s happened every year since they’ve been gone. The year they died I’d gone Christmas shopping early, and I buried some of Mandy’s Christmas presents in her casket.” Sorrow weighed on her again. “Every year, I remember…I want to forget.”

      “It’s natural. Each year will get better.”

      “That’s what I thought, but this year is worse.” She leaned toward him. “If I tell you something, you’ll think I’m crazy.”

      “No, I won’t.”

      “I think the voice is a warning of some kind.”

      His face twisted into a puzzled expression. “Like a premonition.”

      “Sort of, but more than that.”

      “You’re sure it’s Mandy’s voice.”

      “Yes.

Скачать книгу