Chapter Twenty-Three
DIANA SWALLOWED AROUND a lump in her throat as she drove the new rental car home—or the place that no longer felt like home. Time to make some calls on the hands-free phone. The first one was the most difficult.
“How could you believe those lies!” Her father yelled at her on the phone after she told him what she’d heard.
“Did or did not Adam accuse you of drug irregularities?” Somehow, she managed to keep her voice even. Her father’s shouts used to make her shrivel. But she’d had a long time to grow out of it.
Okay, the shouts didn’t make her shrivel, but they did make her long for a drink.
Laredo touched her hand, his silent support granting her strength to continue.
“I need the answer.” She glanced in the rearview mirror to check for a tail, but she wouldn’t know one if she saw one. Her stomach clenched, but she’d have to leave it to Rachel and Laredo to spot a tail.
Despite the gravity of the situation, she felt lighter. She wasn’t in this alone. Laredo and his family would protect her back or, in this case, her rental’s bumper.
After a pause, her father’s long-suffering sigh traveled over the line. “He did, but he was wrong. Completely wrong. Come on, you know that would be easy to verify. No drugs were missing from the hospital. Adam’s accusations were bogus.”
“You’re right.” She rubbed her throbbing temples, then moved into a different lane.
“I’m glad you agree.”
“I meant, I’m going to verify it. Thanks, Dad.” She hung up before he could yell at her some more. She ignored his calls back.
Laredo moved his fingers over hers, creating new sensations and distracting her from her inner turmoil. “Do you believe him?”
“I want to. Too many things are crashing around me. I need something solid to lean on.”
“You can lean on me,” he said quietly.
“Even after what you know about me?” She slowed behind a dawdling eighteen-wheeler. “That one day you might have to scrape the drunk me from the floor and try to pull me together?” The words sounded harsh, but she didn’t have the right to sugarcoat it.
“I hope it doesn’t happen, but I’ll accept it if that happens and will do my best to help you.”
Angry and grateful tears prickled her eyes. She was angry with herself and grateful to him, but she couldn’t do to him what Grandpa did to Grandma. Especially if he was about to have a country music career. The press would have a field day if Laredo’s girlfriend was an alcoholic. She’d drag down his career while Lolly could build it up. And Lolly would have her own interest there, as well. “It’s more than amazing on your part, but...”
Wait a moment. He’d accept it and deal with it as it happened.
Acceptance.
That was what she was lacking.
At an opening on the left, she changed lanes to pass the eighteen-wheeler. “I just realized something. There’s a reason acceptance is one of the stages of grief. I was running away from grief by drowning it in alcohol. I was avoiding sadness. And now I badly want to avoid dealing with disappointment in Adam or my parents by having a drink.”
Her fingers gripped the steering wheel, and she leaned forward as if she needed to see through a fog. A fog that was in her mind and was clearing now. And as much as she loved Pat, Diana suspected her friend sought the high of falling in love again and again to avoid her problems. What alcohol had become for Diana, Pat sought in meeting new people and falling in and out of love with them.
Maybe Adam sought out new relationships, even after their marriage, because that was his drug of choice, his way to avoid feeling he was getting older. Maybe he needed constant adoration from many women to believe he still had it. He’d freaked out over the first gray hair and wrinkle. Of course, she’d never know now, and she’d have to accept that uncertainty, as well.
“It’s impossible to avoid unpleasant feelings.” Laredo’s words made her see the world clearer, as well.
“True.” She had to tap on the brake as she approached a trailer. “We, myself in particular, need to learn to sit with sadness.” Admit it could be just as much of a friend as a bottle of wine could be at first. “I don’t mean to wallow in it. Just let myself feel it. Accept it.”
“I’m praying you’ll be able to.”
His compassion warmed her. His being able to accept it, to accept her , even the parts she was ashamed of, helped her go on. But she still had a long and difficult journey ahead, and she didn’t mean the highway where that sleek red sports car just cut someone off, based on angry honking.
After more calls, she still didn’t know anything. Indeed, no drugs were missing at the hospital back then or later. And why would her father steal them in the first place?
Suspicions needled her as she turned onto the exit to her neighborhood. Could it be...?
No. Or... She needed to think about it, then discuss it with Laredo, Marina, and the rest of the crew. Her gut twisted. She should’ve thought about it already, though. Maybe then, Pat would still be here, safe and sound.
Pat could sometimes be reckless and act before she thought. It would be like her to go confront someone she’d thought had harmed Diana, without realizing what kind of danger she’d put herself into. But who was that someone?
Just like Noah and Jill’s, Diana’s house was the only house in the neighborhood not decorated for Christmas. If she cared to guess, Jill probably didn’t have a decorated Christmas tree inside, either. They had that in common, besides apparently sharing the same man. Still, her home felt strangely bare, almost exposed.
Just like the most personal parts of her life were exposed now, and even if she wasn’t the one who’d done things wrong, shame writhed through her. Well, she had done something wrong. She’d succumbed to addiction, and more shame burned like acid.
She parked at the curb and turned off the motor. Rachel had already given her the go-ahead after driving around the neighborhood, but now Rachel was double-checking the outer perimeter. Being such a private person, Diana tried to keep her private life, well, private. But how many people in the hospital had snickered behind her back and gossiped about her family?
Rachel waved her permission to exit the vehicle. Laredo and Diana strode toward the house. He stuck close to her as if shielding her from the wind and bullets.
But what could shield her from herself? Well, she knew well what could help her feel better, at least for some time, and her blood stirred, demanding that comfort. Her insides begged for just one glass. But it would never be just one glass, and the price was too high to pay.
An overwhelming urge to run from her undecorated house, from the shameful secrets she already knew, and from the ones she would soon discover nearly made her turn around and sprint back to the car. But she needed to know. If even a tiny clue in Adam’s den led to what might’ve happened to Pat or what she might’ve discovered, Diana must find it. Had Pat stumbled upon the mystery of Adam’s death while searching for proof of his infidelity?
The idea of Laredo and his family putting themselves in danger jabbed guilt through Diana. Great. No matter what she chose to do, she ended up with shame and guilt.
Standing sideways, Rachel and her husband met them at the low porch steps while Harris waited nearby on the lawn.
“The lock doesn’t look tampered with. The door is locked. All the window latches are in place. The grass near the windows and patio door doesn’t look disturbed,” Rachel said.
“Thanks.” Diana’s hands shook so much she dropped her keys, and they clattered onto the cement porch. She flinched.
His eyes concerned, Laredo scooped them up and handed them to her. His fingers brushed along her palm, sending a jolt of attraction. How could she even think about attraction when her life was falling apart?
She dropped the keys again, and the thud echoed in the emptiness of her soul. She cringed. “Sorry.”
She needed to pull herself together, collect all those broken shards that her being seemed to be now, and glue them to each other, hopefully in the proper order. Alcohol had seemed to be that glue for the last year. She’d resolved to stay sober, but she desperately needed that glue.
Could faith be it?
He stepped closer as if to shield her again from the wind, danger, and herself. “Nothing to be sorry about. May I?” He picked up the keys and turned to the door.
Might as well. She probably wouldn’t be able to get the key in the lock the first time, either. “Sure. I’m a mess.”
“You’re not a mess. You’re the most amazing human being I’ve ever met.” He sounded like he meant it.
The situation reminded her of a night she’d come home drunk—more like stumbled onto the porch—and it had taken her three tries to open the lock. Oh, the irony.
She hadn’t felt cold then and hadn’t felt pain, and at the time, she’d had no doubt her parents and late husband were good people. The desperation to lose herself in that sweet oblivion again took her by the throat. The throat that needed wine’s promising burn.
Laredo was her rescue boat in a sea of alcohol and despair, but she shouldn’t cling to him. It would be kinder to him and his fantastic family if she clung to a wine bottle instead. But she needed to stay away from her former addiction, and besides, she needed her brain to function well to find her best friend.
At the click of the lock, she stepped forward.
Laredo lifted his hand, his gaze apologetic. “Please let us check the house first.”
Harris moved closer. “I’ll stand guard for Diana.”
“Right. Of course. Thanks.” She nearly slapped her forehead.
After all, Rachel had mentioned it all before. A part of her was grateful for Laredo’s words. Her safety seemed to matter to him, probably more than it mattered to her. But worry for him and guilt for putting him and his family in this situation turned the knife inside her. Why hadn’t she installed cameras when she’d had a chance? “Please be careful. Or... or maybe we should just go. I... I shouldn’t have dragged you here.”
Rachel’s brows furrowed. “From what I checked, it seems secure enough. It’s an open floor plan, which helps. If I sense danger or hear anything suspicious, we’ll get out. I’ll go first.” Rachel drew her weapon and glanced at Diana. Was that pity or compassion in her eyes? Because while distinguishing between the two could be difficult, there was a world of difference. At least, to Diana.
Stealthy and silent, Rachel edged inside, followed by her husband.
“Just a few minutes. We’ll be out as soon as possible.” After a long gaze, Laredo disappeared inside, as well.
Diana stayed behind with Harris, who appeared to be her default bodyguard when Laredo or Rachel weren’t around. Seconds stretched like her nerves.
Had it been pity or compassion in her coworkers’ eyes when they’d expressed their condolences? Or much earlier, when they’d asked about her husband? Her gut twisted, and shame and guilt in her tummy tangled like Christmas lights in a box.
As much as she trusted Laredo and his family and as much as she understood the necessity, the idea of someone going through her home—especially considering she hadn’t had a chance to tidy up—irked her. At least, they wouldn’t find a row of empty bottles unlike not so long ago.
Adam often said everyone needed their personal space, but he needed more than others, and it was also healthy for Diana to have more space. One of his excuses for disappearing for a long time.
He was right. She did need her personal space, especially after working twelve-hour shifts taking care of people who were sick and understandably grouchy. But way more often, she needed to be held, to wrap her arms around the person who loved her and whom she loved, and to listen to his heartbeat while love carried blood through his veins.
Instead, she’d ended up wrapping her fingers around the neck of a bottle while wine filled the blood in her veins.
Now she ached for Laredo to hold her. But she couldn’t let her sharp shards cut him. More seconds stretched, probably like the strings of his guitar, ready to snap.
He appeared at the door. “All clear.”
She nearly slumped in relief. She walked into her own home and his embrace. She didn’t have the willpower to move away, but then, as her history with alcohol showed, she didn’t have much willpower to start with.
She could hear his heart beating, and it seemed to be in rhythm with her own. She’d known the medical characteristics of the cardiovascular system since she’d been little, thanks to the graphs and drawings in her father’s office. And her mind knew no visible connection of blood vessels linked her heart to his. But on some deeper, invisible level, she felt that connection.
A connection she didn’t have the right to keep. Then a faint scent from her memory made her pull away from him. It was as if Adam reminded her of all the heartache she’d gone through. Though how was it possible that, a year after his death, the house could still hold his scent? It must’ve been conjured by her memories.
Rachel cleared her throat. “We, um, need to go search through the den. The sooner we get out of here the better.”
Laredo shifted from one foot to another. “I’ll watch the windows.”
“Me, too,” Tex said.
They clearly wanted to give Diana privacy, and she was grateful for it.
“I’ll help search. I know the places people try to hide things.” Rachel pulled disposable gloves out of her bag and snapped them on, then handed a pair to Diana. “Just to be on the safe side.”
The faint nitrile scent entered Diana’s nostrils as she put the gloves on. That was what her marriage had become—disposable.
Everything inside her tensed when they entered Adam’s former den, and an inner voice whispered for her to run. She squeezed her teeth and persevered. She’d had a cleaning service clean it before, so it wasn’t dusty or dirty. But knowing what she knew now made her reluctant to touch anything as if slime coated the sparkling surfaces.
She passed the leather recliner and big-screen TV on her way to his small mahogany desk. Adam’s framed diplomas and awards mocked her from the wall. He’d made copies of such things and had them framed and then hung them in many rooms in the house. She didn’t have anything of hers framed, except for a few photos together with Adam, including wedding ones. That imbalance once made her feel small, but now it only reminded her of how much work it had been to stroke his ego.
Had she ever seen herself clearly? At first, she’d looked at herself through her parents’ eyes, then through Adam’s eyes, then through a bottle of wine, and all of them had given her distorted views. She now knew that her not being what her parents or Adam had wanted hadn’t been her problem, but theirs . It had taken Laredo admiring and accepting her the way she was for her to realize she could—and should—admire and accept herself as she was, as well. She didn’t need to live out someone else’s script for her life.
Well, except for God’s script for her life, and she prayed she’d know what it was.
Time to get work done. She tried the drawers and grimaced. “Locked.”
Rachel stepped forward. “No problem.”
Minutes later, a hairpin from her purse helped open the drawers. That felt like something out of the movies. Diana blinked in surprise. Soon, Rachel found a false bottom in the desk drawer. Now, Diana stared at burner phones protected by passcodes and a tablet protected by a password. Signs of Adam’s secret life.
They inspected behind each diploma and award, and Rachel checked for anything that could be hollowed out and used as storage. They didn’t find anything else.
Disappointment ate Diana like acid. She snapped off her gloves. “Besides the burner phones and tablet—all of which I don’t have passcodes for—we didn’t find anything.” Was the inaccessible information there even worth the risk of coming here?
Laredo draped his uninjured arm around her shoulders, bringing warmth and comfort. “Something there might point us in the right direction.”
“I have friends in forensics who might crack the passcodes.” Of course, Rachel did.
At this point, Diana wasn’t even surprised. She handed Rachel the phones and tablet. Something nagged at her. Something about this house, and it was important. Probably right under her nose. “I... I want to look through the office. Adam was pretty much the only one who used the office.”
She couldn’t shake the distinct feeling she was missing something. A weird, unreachable itch twitched inside her.
“Do you need help?” Rachel didn’t protest. “If not, Tex and I should stay in the car. Just to make sure the house isn’t watched. Or that no car drives by at frequent intervals. I’ll also see if I can get the passcode to the phones. Harris could probably conduct some interviews in the interim.”
“I believe I can manage.” Diana managed a wobbly smile. But what a horrible hostess! Here she was with this huge beautiful house, and her guests had to stay in the vehicles. “Under other circumstances, I’d love for you to stay here. We have plenty of guest rooms. I mean, I have plenty of guest rooms.”
She grimaced at her slip. It was her house now, though when she’d wanted to sell, her mother-in-law said it would be unfair to Adam’s memory. But he was no longer here. Diana was.
And she and Adam were no longer a unit. Considering her discovery, they probably never were.
Laredo shifted toward her. “I’ll stay here.” His neck pinked. “For protection purposes.”
Rachel nodded. “I was about to suggest as much.”
Tex drew his spouse close. “I agree with my gorgeous wife.”
Diana’s heart melted at the love between these two. “Would you like something to drink before you leave?” She did her best to remember what she had in the fridge before she left. “I’ve got orange juice and soda. Water, of course. I can make hot tea if anyone would like it. I’ve got a wonderful tea collection.”
Not so long ago, she had a wonderful wine collection, as well. Sometimes she’d run out of food, but she’d never run out of wine. There had been times when the only things in her refrigerator were ice, water, and wine.
“We’re good,” Rachel and Tex said in unison.
Huh. How irksome that nobody shared her love for hot tea, but it was such a trifle to get upset about.
Something nagged at her as she glanced at her tea collection. All her teas were there. Everything was in order. Nothing out of place. So it must be something from her memory. But what exactly?