Chapter 5 Emma
Emma
It was past midnight when I pulled up to the local campground for the night.
I was so late, they’d given my reservation away.
Beating back the panic, I drove the ten minutes to Star Falls’s best park.
Nestled among towering redwoods, the public space was usually a haven of peace, but tonight, with the winds and creepy sky, it felt too ominous, and I hesitated to park.
First thing in the morning, I’d go to the campground before work, reserve a spot, and get a shower.
Exhausted to the bone from surviving my week, I just wanted to sleep, but I took a second, more careful look around, something I’d learned the hard way always to do, no matter what.
All I could hear was the wail of the wind through the trees, but I knew enough to follow my instincts.
And sure enough, upon a closer look, there, in the far corner…
A cop car sat in my usual spot.
His interior light was on, and I could see him working on a tablet. Probably on a break, but I certainly couldn’t stay.
Overnight parking was prohibited. I pulled back onto the road and kept driving, sighing as thick, fat raindrops began plunking onto the roof of the car.
Then harder.
Even as I took this in, it turned to hail, which pelted me, feeling like a thousand tiny ice cubes by a disgruntled sky god.
I knew I couldn’t just keep driving around all night, wasting gasoline.
I needed sleep, needed to be clearheaded for work, which was providing the only thing going to save my ass—paychecks.
I inhaled sharply as anxiety filled my chest. “Just one moment at a time,” I whispered to myself. All I had to do right this very second was avoid freezing to death. I pictured a warm campfire. And hot cocoa. And a set of strong, warm, tatted arms coming around me—
Damn it, nope, not going there. Shivering, I stared out into the night, cringing as the hail came down so loudly, I couldn’t hear myself think.
Pulling over—not turning off the engine—I grabbed my phone to call Suzie.
She’d wanted me to stay with her for this first month while I saved up for an apartment, but her house was tiny, her relationship was still new and shiny, and she was hugely pregnant, plus had full custody of her preteen from a previous relationship.
So, for the first time in our lives, I’d lied to her.
I’d told her I was staying with my aunt back in Santa Rosa—which was just far enough that she wouldn’t have the time to stop by unannounced and learn I wasn’t there at all.
Or that my aunt had retired and moved to Florida several years ago.
I knew when Suzie found out, she’d be furious, but that was Future Emma’s problem. Yet tonight…just tonight, maybe I could borrow her couch. I looked at my phone and realized with a smile that I had a text from her, time-stamped three hours ago.
Ride Or Die:
The flu’s hit this house. So much puke and poop, I need an exorcism up in here…
Okay, so now I had a choice: freeze to death, or die by flu. I racked my brain for another option.
The Henderson job. The empty Henderson job.
The one that didn’t have surveillance cameras because Henderson and Hall had privacy concerns, and with good reason—they’d been sued last year when one of their clients had balked at the invasion of privacy after their teenage daughter had gotten caught on film having sex in their garage.
I knew that oftentimes crews worked weekends, which means workers could arrive on-site first thing in the morning, but in the next six hours or so, I could have a hot shower and a big, safe driveway where I could park and sleep in my car.
Indecision bounced around in my gut as I continued to shiver. If I got caught, the consequences would be severe, I knew this. But it was just one night. Who would know? I would slip in just to get ready for bed, then slip out again, leaving everything exactly as I found it.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I drove out to the site and stared at the dark manor for a few minutes.
The good news? There were no other cars in the massive circular driveway and no lights anywhere. The bad? I had access to a key—but that key sat safely inside the Henderson and Hall offices. So I had no way in, except…
When Caleb had given me a tour of the place, I’d noticed a window in the kitchen back door that had been boarded up with cardboard, awaiting replacement.
A window that a smallish adult could hopefully squeeze through.
I grabbed my backpack—currently holding my most valuable worldly belongings, with the exception of the dainty gold necklace with tiny twin sapphire stones that had been my mom’s and now lived around my neck.
The stones symbolized her and me, she’d once told me, and all I ever had to do if I missed her was touch the stone that represented her.
I’d rubbed my fingers over that sapphire so often, I was surprised I hadn’t worn it down to dust.
Bracing myself, I stepped out into the night, thankful to find it merely lightly raining now. On the back patio, beneath the roof’s eaves, I stopped to catch my breath and to bolster my courage.
I used the flashlight app on my phone and nearly wept in relief when I saw the cardboard still covering the back-door window. Problem number one: Would I fit? And problem number two: Was I strong enough to hoist myself through it?
I carefully pulled off the cardboard and leaned it up against the door where I’d be able to reach back for it once inside. Then I removed my backpack and shoved it through the opening.
And then it was my turn. Sucking in a breath, I tried to jump up and into the opening. It took three tries to get myself braced high enough, and I quickly shoved my head and shoulders in.
With the window’s edge cutting into my palms, I threw my weight in and unceremoniously tumbled headfirst to the cold, hard subfloor in the kitchen.
But hey, I was inside!
Pushing myself upright, I took stock. Still breathing, so that was good.
I reached outside, replaced the cardboard window covering, then grabbed my stuff and tiptoed through the very dark manor, trying to ignore the nerves attacking my stomach.
I didn’t dare try to find a light. Using just my flashlight app, I climbed the stairs.
On the second-floor landing, I froze midstep, one foot still in the air.
Had I heard something? An axe murderer?
Nope. Just my own breathing. Getting a hold of myself, I took the next flight of stairs, climbed the ladder, and entered what I considered the safest room in the place: the attic.
My light flickered over the space, and some of my nerves faded. My shivering did not. I quickly changed into sweats that doubled as pj’s and eyed the bed.
I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Sleeping inside was a line I wouldn’t cross, so I packed everything back into my backpack and took one last look around the room.
I’d spent so many years loving architecture and its history that I didn’t see the dust and decay.
I saw a love story to a previous time and place.
I saw a room that had once been a home, a warm, happy one.
I could almost feel the memories. I let them seep into me.
“Thank you,” I whispered, then made my way back out into the cold night and into my car.
I’d just closed my eyes and was taking in the gentle patter of the rain on my car’s roof when my phone pinged.
DON’T EVEN:
Tell me you’re home safe and sound.
Me:
Safe and sound.
DON’T EVEN:
Still wearing that killer dress?
Me:
Is this a booty call?
DON’T EVEN:
Well, it’s a text not a call, so…
Me:
I’m shutting off my phone now.
DON’T EVEN:
Wait. Just wanted to apologize for messing up the seating for you.
Me:
It’s okay. Like you said, I cheated.
DON’T EVEN:
For what it’s worth, Rosalind caught up to me just as I was leaving, looking for you. She won her auction item and wanted to thank you.
Rosalind had wanted to thank me. And if that weren’t crazy enough, the guy I wanted to hate had really had my back tonight, more than once. I hadn’t expected either of those things. I picked up my phone again.
Me:
Night, Colburn.
DON’T EVEN:
Night, Enigmatic Emma.
Closing my eyes again, I realized that my frown had finally turned upside down.