Chapter 2
Joanne gripped the steering wheel tightly, the slick snow-covered roadway glowing in the dim light of dusk as they got close to home. Her skin prickled, dry air from the heating vent blowing in her face, and she was sure she would never be warm ever again.
Lucas and April bickered, but she wasn’t listening. Fear was a funny thing. It had the power to immobilize you, or to force the weakest muscles into profound action worthy of an Olympic athlete. She was waiting to see which reaction would prevail.
She’d grown up in a house of fear, never knowing what the day would bring. Times like these, when fear tucked itself tightly between her collarbone and heart, she relied on her upbringing to fuel her race to safety.
But this was different. How the hell was she going to find that money? For nearly four hundred days, she’d been painstakingly untangling her life from David’s, a slow and difficult process that couldn’t be undone.
“Who was that man?” asked April.
“Someone your dad worked with.”
“He grabbed your arm.”
“He was upset.”
“Why?”
“Who knows why people do things, April? It’s a difficult time for us all.” She drove by the police station, wishing she could walk inside and find safety, but she knew in her heart all safety was gone.
“I think he’s following us.”
Their eyes met. Joanne adjusted the rearview mirror. She hadn’t been paying attention, and she cursed herself. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She turned onto a two-lane road that led to her property outside of town and sped up, watching as the car behind her followed suit. Her hands broke out in a sweat. “Just the man, or the woman, too?”
“I don’t know.”
I’ll be watching you.
This man had killed David; now he was after her.
She needed help, her mind desperately searching for anyone she could turn to and coming up empty.
Perhaps the police could protect them, but would they even believe her?
That detective seemed to think she was a murderer.
That definitely wasn’t a chance she could take.
Jo turned onto their street, her hands gripping the steering wheel so hard it was difficult to move the wheel.
She couldn’t catch her breath, the anxiety that was her constant companion now spiraling into a full-fledged panic attack.
They needed to get away, to find somewhere safe. She needed to protect her family.
But how?
The house appeared in the distance, a white rail fence and acres of manicured rolling hills surrounding a big white ranch with a barn and stable visible in the distance.
She suddenly wished that fence were electrified and at least twenty feet high, but even as she thought it, she knew she still wouldn’t feel safe with that man somewhere out there.
She pulled to the side of the road and stopped at her mailbox, April putting her window down and collecting the mail.
Behind them, the car had stopped some hundred feet back, headlights blazing.
They weren’t even trying to be inconspicuous.
This was an intimidation game, a tactic to terrorize her, and it was working.
She pulled into the drive, fresh snow crunching under her tires. She waited to see if the other car would follow.
“Who’s Evelyn Nowak?” asked April.
“Evelyn?” The name was a relic from her past, a part of her life that seemed more like a story about someone else than an actual piece of her memory. But if that was true, then Evelyn was one of the best parts of the book. “An old friend. My ex-boyfriend’s mother. Probably a sympathy card.”
“Looks like it.”
Jo glanced in the rearview. The car stayed on the main road with its lights on. Better than following them to the door, but worse than driving away.
“How old were you?” April asked.
“Seventeen.” She opened the garage door and pulled inside.
Her panic was subsiding, and she knew it was the mention of Evelyn’s name that had comforted her so quickly.
There was only one place she’d ever really felt secure, only one place she’d ever had a friend she could trust and people who felt like family.
That was in Evelyn’s house, and she longed to be back there now.
She pushed the ridiculous idea out of her mind.
To get there, she would need to cross a bridge she had long since burned to the ground.
She would feel better when she got inside and set the alarm.
Make herself a cup of tea and get some perspective on this whole god-awful day.
Maybe try to log in to David’s bank account and see just how much money he had squirreled away.
She grabbed the mail and her purse, her finger trailing over Evelyn’s perfectly formed script as the kids climbed out of the car.
“I get the Xbox,” called Lucas, racing ahead.
“I want princesses!” whined Fiona, trailing after him.
April got out but turned back. “You coming?”
“I’ll be right in.” The door closed, the car suddenly filled with silence. She took a deep breath and opened the envelope. A watercolor iris graced the front of the card, and she knew immediately Evelyn had painted it by hand. Inside, she read, “Dearest Joanne, I was so sad—”
The garage door to the kitchen opened and Lucas appeared, screaming, “Mom!”
She held up a finger, continuing to read. “—to learn of David’s passing. I wish I were there, so I could give you my shoulder on which to cry. When you’re ready, please come for a visit so I can hug you properly and reminisce. Love always—”
A knock at her window made her jump. April stood on the other side. “You need to come see this.”
The horrified tone had her scrambling to get inside. Something was clearly wrong. Had Fiona hurt herself? She pushed the door open and froze.
Utter destruction.
Drawers from the antique hutch were strewn about the floor, their contents scattered about like leaves in the fall. Pictures had been taken off walls, their frames and canvases separated with slices and rips.
She stumbled toward the kitchen, Lucas weaving his way through the room like he was crossing a pond on stones. “Who would do this?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Jo lied, avoiding April’s knowing stare as she bent and picked up a picture of the kids, its glass shattered and wooden frame fractured. It was a favorite of hers, their last family portrait, and she pushed the glass aside, cutting her finger. She gasped and popped it in her mouth.
A sudden shriek echoed through the house. The picture forgotten, Jo flew down the hallway toward Fiona’s screams. She should have grabbed a knife from a kitchen drawer, and she chastised herself as she ran, rounding the corner to Fiona’s room.
The little girl stood in the middle of the space, surrounded by toys and clothes and discarded drawers, wailing. “Somebody hurt my dolly!” She held out her favorite doll, and Joanne felt the blood drain out of her head. The doll’s face had been cut open in one long line from her eye to her chin.
An image of Evelyn’s house stood out in her mind like a lighthouse in a stormy sea. The epitome of safety. Someone who could help. Did Sloan still live in town? She didn’t know how she would handle it if he did, but her discomfiture over seeing her old boyfriend was truly trivial right now.
April and Lucas appeared in the door. “Get your things,” said Jo, her voice a choked rasp. “Pack a bag. Underwear. Socks. Shirts. Pants.” No one moved. Fiona kept crying, and Jo picked her up, despite how heavy the girl had gotten.
“Where are we going?” asked Lucas.
It was the only possible place, just that single destination, no matter how long it had been since she’d been there or all the reasons she left. “My hometown.”
“You have a hometown?”
“He’ll follow us,” said April.
Lucas looked from one to the other, clearly not following but not asking, either.
“Not if they don’t know we’ve left.” Joanne’s plan clicked firmly into place. “We’ll take the Porsche. We’ll drive out by the stables and avoid the main road.”
Fiona jerked her head back to look at her mother. “Daddy wouldn’t like that.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Jo wiped a tear from Fiona’s cheek. David moved out a year ago, but his apartment didn’t have a garage in which to store his most prized possession.
Lucas rolled his eyes. “Oh, yes, he would!”
She took a trembling breath in, terrified of what lay ahead. “We’ll go as soon as it’s dark.” She put Fiona down and kissed her head. “Come on. We all need to pack our things. It’s a long drive from Chicago to New York.”