Chapter 2
Clara woke early after a restless night. The light streamed in through the blinds casting patterns around the room. She lay there for a moment, her mind still trying to transition from the dream world into reality. Her dreams had been haunted by James, his deceit, and the old Victorian house.
Pushing herself to sit up, she rubbed her temples, trying to clear the remnants of the nightmare that had plagued her. Her heart was still tender from the previous night”s confrontation, but Clara was a fighter. She wouldn”t let James break her.
“Easy come, easy go.”
She got up slowly and started her morning routine. Every action felt heavier than usual, each step more laborious. But she was determined to not let the situation get her down. As she sipped her coffee, staring into the backyard, she considered calling Allison. If she told Allison what she did last night, she was pretty sure she would be in for a lecture. Her attempt to walk on the wild side would remain her secret.
Clara took a deep breath and steeled herself for the day ahead. She was determined to keep moving forward. There were still bags of stuff that needed to go to the donation center. After finishing her coffee, she got ready for the day, making an effort to dress nicely and put on some makeup. Looking good on the outside often helped her feel better inside too. She quickly loaded up the bags, finding the process to be very satisfying. It was much healthier than setting fire to his things, which had been her first choice until Allison talked her out of it.
Clara would typically run errands on her day off or visit with friends, but not today. Instead, she went straight home to enjoy a day of solitude and sulking. Cleaning her house was always the way she chose to nurse her wounds. She turned on some music and pulled out her dust cloth and can of Pledge. The process of cleaning was her coping method.
Last night was a disaster. She was still trying to process everything. Getting busted did little to quench her thirst for the truth about Victoria’s ancestors. The trick now was to figure out how to get the journals. Clearly, breaking into the house wasn’t an option.
Clara took a deep breath as she looked around her tidy house. The cleaning had helped soothe her frayed nerves after the drama of last night. She knew she had to be smarter in finding a way to get access to Victoria”s journals again.
As she wiped down the kitchen counters, a thought occurred to her–the historical society. They always looked for artifacts and documents relating to the town”s history. If she told them about the journals, maybe they could negotiate with the lawyer handling the estate to acquire them properly. It was a long shot, but better than breaking the law again.
While she started a load of laundry, her mind went back to the unexpected encounter. All night, she tried to understand what James had been doing in the house. Her only conclusion was he was indeed a treasure hunter. Maybe he heard about Victoria”s death and wanted to see if there was anything valuable to steal. It seemed like a long way to come to steal a few trinkets. Assuming he was telling the truth about where he lived. For all she knew, his name wasn’t even James.
A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Clara looked through the peephole, shocked to find James standing outside. Her anger bubbled to the surface. How had James found out where she lived? It was alarming to realize he truly was stalking her. Then again, in a small town, it wasn’t all that hard to find out where anyone lived. The people who lived in Watch Hill weren’t exactly savvy to the risks that plagued other cities. Their sleepy town had almost no crime and everyone was very friendly. James could have asked anyone at the library, the grocery store, or anywhere else and they would have promptly told him what he needed to know. She made a mental note to put up a public service announcement on the library community board; it wasn”t polite or proper to give out people”s addresses.
She jerked open the door and glared at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I want to talk to you.”
“No. I have nothing to say to you. I will call the police this time.”
“Please,” he said. He raised what she assumed was a peace offering; coffee and donuts. “Please, just give me five minutes. I need to explain. After I explain, you can kick me out if you want.”
“I can kick you out right now. Coffee and donuts mean nothing. I can make my own coffee.”
“But I’m asking you to just give me five minutes, please.”
His blue eyes made him look so sincere. It was hard to resist. Clara hesitated, debating whether to slam the door in his face or hear him out. As angry as she was at this man for deceiving her, a small part of her was curious to know more.
Against her better judgment, Clara hesitated but eventually opened the door. “I’m keeping my phone in my hand with my thumb hovering over the nine-one-one button.”
“Understood.” James stepped inside. “Thank you. I know you have no reason to trust me after last night, but please believe me when I say I never meant you any harm.”
She led him to the dining table and gestured for him to sit down. The tense atmosphere hung between them. She took a seat across the table, watching him, trying to size him up and figure out what his game was. He pushed one of the coffee cups towards her. “I got an assortment of donuts. I wasn’t sure what you liked.”
“I don’t want a donut. I don’t want to talk to you. You have about four and a half minutes left. If you have something to say, spit it out. I never promised to believe you or give two cents about what you do say.”
“I”m sorry for scaring you last night. That wasn”t my intention. I swear I didn’t follow you to the house. Trust me, you scared the crap out of me. I was not expecting to run into anyone there.”
Clara, arms crossed, shot him a skeptical look. “Why were you in that house, James? And why didn”t you tell me you were back in town?”
James sighed, choosing his words carefully. “I got back into town late, and I wanted to check out the house while it was dark. I didn”t think anyone would notice.”
“You know, I’m new to this dating thing, but I’m pretty sure the standard practice is to tell the person you’re not interested, or you just don’t call them again. I’ve heard the term ghosting, but it’s so cowardly. I obviously misjudged you. I thought you were more of a man than that.”
“I didn’t ghost you,” he insisted. “I do want to see you again.”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever makes you sleep better at night. I have things to do. Go away. And don’t you dare come back here.”
“Clara, please. I’d like to at least explain why I was in that house last night.”
“Are you some kind of thief?” Clara questioned; her distrust evident.
James chuckled, a disarming smile on his face. “No, Clara. Are you?”
The accusation took Clara aback. “I was looking for some books. You know about the estate and the library stuff.”
“You don’t have regular access?”
“If I did, would I be sneaking into the house in the middle of the night?”
“Fair point. I just assumed since you had some boxes you had access to the others.”
She took a deep breath. “No. No, I don’t. I’m sure the boxes will be delivered to the library soon enough, but I didn’t want to wait. I wasn’t there to steal anything. I only wanted the journals.”
She didn’t know why she was defending herself to the man who was definitely not looking for a journal. He was a thief. Or a prowler.
“Victoria is my family, Clara,” James announced.
“What?”
“Victoria is my family and I have questions about some things. I didn”t mean to keep it from you. I just needed some time to figure things out. It’s a long story.”
Clara”s skepticism deepened. “Victoria doesn”t have family. I know that much. That’s why her estate is being doled out through her lawyer. There is no one to inherit. Give me a break. You don’t think I would know that?”
“She does,” he insisted. “I can explain if you’ll let me, but it might take longer than five minutes.”
“You’ve got two minutes.”
He smiled. “Clara, trust me, you want to hear this story. If you’re really interested in those journals, I can help fill in some blanks, but it’s more than two minutes.”
Torn between curiosity and mistrust, Clara reluctantly gestured for James to continue. She grabbed the coffee and took a sip.
“Victoria was a distant relative,” James started.
Clara leaned back and decided to listen. It didn”t mean she was going to believe it.