A Promise to Remember (21 page)

Blair looked at her and tilted his head as if confused. "What do
you mean, where have I been? I've been at work, of course."

"Not until almost noon today They called here looking for
you and said you hadn't been in yet. I thought something terrible had happened."

His eyes focused just to the side of hers. "Well, everything's
fine. See?" He reached across his car for his briefcase.

"Blair, I was frantic. I thought you'd ..."

He stood and waved his hand in a circle. "Look at me. Look
at my car. Not a scratch on either. I said I'm fine-now let it
go!" He started toward the house, his eyes still averted.

What was he not saying? "They said you were about to miss
an important meeting."

"Well, I didn't."

"Where were you?"

Blair pushed past her into the house. He didn't bother to
turn as he answered.

"Research."

"What kind of research?"

This time he did stop. He turned on his heel, his face tinged
with red. "What do you mean, what kind of research? What is it
that you think I do, Andie? I work in a high-tech industry that
is constantly changing. If I don't stay on top of things, we get
left behind and no one could care less. I've got enough on my
plate right now without having to answer to you about every
minute detail of how I spend my workday."

The warmth of a single tear rolled down her cheek. Maybe
she shouldn't push him like this, but he was lying. She felt it.
"Where did you go to do your research?"

Blair turned his back to her and walked down the hall. "Somewhere that I could get a little peace and quiet, which is more
than I can say for this house." He went into his office and
slammed the door.

She stared behind him. Her body trembled-whether from
rage or fear, she couldn't say. She slowly became aware of her
subconscious thoughts. Something about Blair was different.
He smelled different. What was it? A hint of smoke perhaps,
but something sweet, too. It took another minute before she
recognized it. Perfume.

Day two on the new job, Melanie watched everyone around
her with renewed resolve. Whoever it was that didn't want her
here was smart enough not to be public about it. Still, if she
waited patiently, she might catch someone in the act. And she
knew whoever it was hadn't finished harassing her. The uneasy
feeling of being watched by unfriendly eyes seemed to press
against her back wherever she went.

When it was almost break time, Candace sought her out. "Do
you want to go to lunch together? There's a great little deli a
few doors down with fast table service, and they make a mean
BLT. I'm having one of those days where I just need to get out
of here for a while. You know what I mean?"

Leaving the store with Candace could very well be a setup.
It could also be the perfect opportunity to get information.
"Sure. Sounds great."

Melanie went to her locker and worked the combination. She
opened the door slowly, dreading what she might find.

Nothing.

Maybe yesterday was meant as a one-time statement, and
now things would settle down. She slung her purse over her arm
and followed Candace to a little place called Angie's Cafe.

Several quaint tables filled a small outdoor dining area. With
the warmth of March in the air, it looked inviting. They found
an empty table along the outer edge, placed an order, and within
minutes their chips and sandwiches arrived. Candace nodded
her head toward the waitress as she walked away. "See what I
mean about the fast service?" She pulled open her bag of chips.
"So how are things going so far?"

Legitimate question, or bait? Melanie hadn't told anyone
about the rat episode. If Candace didn't know about it, telling
her would serve no good purpose. If she knew and approved,
then Melanie wouldn't give her the satisfaction of hearing about
it from her. "Fine."

Candace tilted her head and looked at her as if waiting for
more to the answer. She finally shrugged. "I'm glad to hear it."
She popped a chip into her mouth and played with the bag. The
crinkling sound filled the silence for a while, then stopped. "I'm
sorry." The words sounded thick and choked. She stared at her
sandwich, but a trace of moisture filled her eyes. "About your
son, I mean. It must be horrible."

Melanie swallowed hard and tried to decide what game this
woman might be playing. She sounded so sincere. But Melanie
wasn't ready to trust her. "Thanks." She stared out at the cars
circling the parking lot and forced down a sip of water. Time
to change the subject.

Perhaps now would be a good time to bring up the obvious.
Be honest. Maybe learn something in return. "Listen, I know
that everyone around here expected you to get this job. I'm not
here because I wanted to take it away from you-that's for sure.
I just don't have a lot of other choices right now."

"I know that feeling." Candace blinked fast several times,
then looked away. "There's a lot in life that doesn't leave us with
much of a choice, isn't there?"

Melanie couldn't help but nod. The lunch continued in almost
complete silence. Although it grew awkward, in a way it seemed
almost companionable. As if each woman had her own wounds
and hurts, and they were dealing with them.

When the waitress brought the check, Melanie reached for
it. "The least I can do is buy your lunch." She opened her purse
and barely managed to stifle the gasp. The contents of her wallet
had been dumped haphazardly throughout the purse, her credit
cards had been cut to shreds, and her money was gone.

"Is something wrong?"

"I ... uh ...,,

Candace leaned across the table and looked into the bag.
"I can't believe them." She threw her wadded napkin onto the
table and shook her head. "Please accept my apologies. I've
tried to tell everyone that I'm okay, but some people just won't
let it go. You know?"

She pried the lunch bill from Melanie's hand. "I guess the
treat's mine today, huh?" She put some money on the table
and stood.

"Don't let them get to you. It'll stop. Eventually."

They walked down the sidewalk toward the store, Melanie
fuming. "I'm not real impressed with the security of the lockers
around here."

Candace laughed. "The last person who had your locker used
it to run a betting business on the side. He eventually got fired,
but I'm afraid his combination was common knowledge. I'm sure
if you tell Carl about it, he'll have the lock replaced."

"I don't want to do that. Not if I can avoid it, anyway."

Candace stopped and looked at her. "Why don't you start
leaving your things in my locker? Nobody else knows the
combination."

Melanie hesitated. "Why would you do that?"

"Because what they are doing is wrong."

"But what they are doing will help you, if they get me to
leave."

"I believe it's more important to do the right thing than the
thing that most benefits me."

An uneasiness seeped through Melanie's skin. Why? Candace
sounded sincere, and Melanie agreed completely. What was
that feeling? Suddenly, she recognized it. Guilt.

The end of the workday at last. Melanie retrieved her pursefrom Candace's locker-and started back toward Santa Barbara,
an uncomfortable feeling still gnawing her gut. The commute
gave her too much time to think about it.

After Ventura, she turned her attention on the Pacific
Ocean-calm as a lake today. The surfers would be bummed;
the whale watchers, however, would be thrilled.

She finally arrived in Santa Barbara, drove through downtown,
and headed north toward Goleta. Instead of taking the Patterson
Avenue off-ramp toward home, however, she kept going. There
was something she needed to do, and waiting wouldn't make
it any easier. She exited at Glen Annie Road and drove toward
the mountains, rehearsing what she needed to say but never
getting it to her satisfaction.

It was just after five o'clock when she pulled into the parking
lot. As she hoped, the employees' cars seemed to be gone for
the day, but the door was still open. She walked through the
cavernous silence, hearing occasional squeaking sounds from
the office. She walked toward it.

Jake sat at his desk, a pile of invoices to his right. He looked
really busy. She shouldn't stay long.

"Knock, knock." She knocked on the doorframe as she said
the words.

He turned slowly in his seat. "Melanie?"

Her mouth didn't want to speak, but she forced it to move.
"Do you have a minute?"

He jumped to his feet. "Sure. Please, take a seat." He pointed
her toward the vinyl chair and waited until she sat before he
did the same. "What's up?"

She fidgeted with the hem of her denim shirt. "I came to
apologize." She studied a loose thread. "The article was really
nice. Besides, you've got a business to run. There's nothing
wrong with you working for that family. I overreacted."

Jake nodded. "Thanks."

"Thanks for doing the story." She twiddled the thread through
her fingers. "Well, that's what I came to say. Have a nice evening." She stood to leave.

"That's it? You came all the way out here for that?" Jake
followed her out of the office and pointed toward one of his
creations. "Come on. Let me at least take you out for a ride."

She looked at the gleaming work of metal and art. For a
moment she let the thrill of the thought take her. No. She
needed to stay on task. "Can't. I've got another stop to make."

"I'll take you."

"I don't think so." She hurried toward the door before she
changed her mind.

"You're going to the graveyard again, aren't you?"

She glanced around at him. "And if I am?"

"Do you think it's healthy to spend so much time there?"

You don't know anything." She shoved past him, but he followed her through the empty parking lot.

"Jeff would want you to move on with your life. I know you're
grieving, but going to his graveside every day is only going to
keep you back. You know that."

"I know my visits to Jeff are none of your business."

"Jeff's not there, Melanie. He's somewhere better. He'd want
you to know that."

"I don't know that. And I'm not taking a chance that he's out
there all alone. I promised him I would never abandon him,
and I intend to keep that promise."

Andie paced the entryway and looked at her watch. Again. Only
five minutes had passed. Ten-thirty. Where was Blair?

He'd been working even later than usual for the past two
nights, with plenty of excuses about research and job pressure.
He couldn't even look at her anymore.

Maybe she should go to Blair's office, pull up a chair, and
talk things out. She could beg him to forgive her, plead for their
marriage. Would that make Blair think her weak? Probably, but
she had nothing to lose.

She pulled her black leather jacket out of the hall closetBlair always said it looked nice on her. A quick peek in the
hallway mirror showed her hair frizzing due to the night's mist.
She smoothed it with her hands. It didn't help much.