Through the Door (5 page)

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Authors: Jodi McIsaac

Tags: #Romance, #Science Fiction, #Contemporary, #Adventure, #Fantasy

BOOK: Through the Door
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She hurried back upstairs into the warmth of her apartment and poured a glass of wine. She just needed to take the edge off, to get some sleep. She glanced at her closed laptop on the counter, and then opened it. No new messages.

“Told you so,” Cedar whispered. “He doesn’t want to be found.”

Just then her phone buzzed, and she picked it up. There was a text from Jane:
I found his parents. Did you know they live here in Halifax?

Cedar stared at the phone in her hands, then texted back:
That’s impossible. Finn told me they were dead.

CHAPTER FOUR

The next morning, Cedar sat staring at the yellow sticky note in her hands. On it she had written the address and phone number for Finn’s parents, Rohan and Riona Donnelly. She took a fortifying gulp of coffee and turned the note over, as if instructions on what she should do next would be written on the other side.

She heard Eden’s bedroom door open and quickly stuffed the note into the pocket of her robe. “Morning!” she said a little too brightly. Eden gave her a strange look. Cedar got up and poured a bowl of Raisin Bran for them both.

“You hate Raisin Bran,” Eden said.

“Yes,” Cedar said, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. “Yes, I do. Okay, I’m going to shower now.”

Eden stared after her as she darted into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. She leaned against the door and pulled out the note again.

Finn’s parents are here? In Halifax? They’re alive?
Finn had told her that both his parents had died in a car accident when he was younger. According to him, he’d lived with relatives for a few years before striking out on his own at age seventeen. He had never seemed particularly bothered by his past, but
neither had he offered up any more information, so Cedar hadn’t pushed it. But why would he have made up something like that? Maybe Jane was wrong. She supposed there was only one way to find out. She pictured the conversation. “Hello, I’m your son’s ex-girlfriend. He told me you were dead. Do you happen to know where he is?”

She groaned and headed into the shower.

The problem with open-concept office spaces was that personal phone calls were almost impossible to make. Cedar dumped her bag on her chair and headed for the stairwell. She leaned against the brick wall and stared at her phone.
This is ridiculous,
she thought.
Just call them.
She had called every Donnelly in the phone book after Finn’s disappearance, just on the off chance that one of them was a distant relative who might know where he was. No one had ever heard of him. What if Jane was wrong, and this wasn’t them, and she was back to square one? Or worse, what if Jane was right? What if she was only one step away from finding Finn? That thought was almost as daunting.

Cedar had thought about calling in sick so she could stay home with Eden. But she knew she was on thin ice after bringing Eden into the office yesterday and acting like a complete space cadet. So she had taken every single door in their apartment off the hinges except for the front door, telling Maeve some story about having them repainted. She had also given Eden a firm talking-to, threatening her with everything from no TV for a month to spending her life as a lab rat if she opened any portals. She’d even stooped so low
as to warn Eden that the shock of seeing a portal might give her grandmother a heart attack. Eden had agreed to wait until it was just the two of them to do more exploring, seeming to take delight in the fact that this was a special secret they shared. Cedar had squeezed her tight and told her she’d be back as soon as she could.

But Cedar had to admit she was more than a little curious about this new mystery of Finn’s parents. Maybe they were horrible people; maybe they had been abusive. She supposed that that would have been reason enough for him to pretend they were dead.

She gripped her phone tightly and entered the number Jane had given her. She tried to control her breathing while listening to it ring. Once…twice…

“Hello?” A man’s voice answered.

“Hello. Is this Rohan Donnelly?” Cedar asked.

“Yes. Who’s calling?” The man’s voice was not harsh, but there was no warmth in it either.

“Um, I’m an old friend of your son’s.”

“Which son?”

Finn has brothers?

“Er, Finn,” she said. “I was just wondering if you might know how I can get in touch with him.”

“Finn doesn’t live here anymore,” Rohan said, this time with a hint of gruffness.

“Okay. Do you know where he’s living now? I just need a phone number, maybe an e-mail address?” Cedar said.

“I’m sorry. I can’t help you,” Rohan said. “Good day.” And he hung up.

Cedar stared down at the phone.
What was that?

Just then, the door to the stairwell opened and her boss stuck his head in. “There you are. We were going to meet first thing, remember?”

Cedar whipped her head around, and she immediately felt a piercing pain shoot through her neck. “Ahh, yes,” she said, wincing.

As they walked down the hall, Cedar tried to drag her mind away from the mystifying phone call and back to her job. But the brusqueness of Rohan’s reply to her simple question lingered in her mind. Why was he so loath to share any information about his son?

She was still puzzling over it at lunchtime. She considered calling Rohan back, but it had been far too easy for him to hang up on her the first time. He couldn’t hang up on her if she was standing in his doorway.

She grabbed her keys and purse and ran down the stairs. The address Jane had given her was only ten minutes away, and hopefully she could make it there and back before anyone noticed she was gone.

A few minutes later, she was driving down Ashfield Drive, slowing to look at the house numbers. Finally, she spotted the right one and pulled over to park on the other side of the road. She sat and watched the house for a minute. It seemed friendly enough to her. It was an older building, as were all the homes in this part of town. But it was well kept, with butter yellow siding and red window boxes filled with a cheerful mix of pansies. A small walkway led up to the front door. Cedar stepped tentatively out of her car and started up the walk. When
she was halfway there, the door opened and a woman walked out, slamming the door behind her. When she saw Cedar, she stopped cold and stared at her. Cedar blinked in confusion. The woman was tall, willowy, and breathtakingly beautiful. Her skin was so pale it seemed to emit a soft light. She had powerful features: a long, straight nose, full lips, and strikingly high cheekbones. Her eyes were large, and a brilliant shade of green. And right now they were trained on Cedar with such hatred that it made her take an involuntary step back.

“What are
you
doing here?” the redhead asked, her voice filled with venom. Cedar tried to say that she didn’t know what the woman was talking about, that she must be mistaking her for someone else, but her head suddenly felt like it was filled with fog. Her thoughts were sluggish, and she couldn’t seem to articulate the words she wanted to say. The redhead turned to shoot another look at the yellow house, then seemed to make a decision. She snapped her head up and walked past Cedar without saying another word. Cedar turned and watched her walk away. Gradually, her head started to feel normal again, though she noticed her hands were shaking.
What was that?
she thought.

She forced herself the final few steps up the walkway and knocked firmly on the door.

A woman opened the door and looked at Cedar. Cedar thought the woman’s eyes grew slightly wider at the sight of her, but then the moment passed and she was only gazing expectantly. She appeared to be the same age as Cedar’s own mother. But whereas Maeve was short, plump, and graying, this woman was tall and slim, like a dancer. She had olive skin that looked so soft Cedar wanted to reach out and touch it. Her dark hair was swept up into a casual bun. She smiled
at Cedar, who didn’t quite know how to start. “Can I help you?” the woman asked.

Cedar cleared her throat. “Yes,” she said. “I called earlier this morning. I think I spoke with your husband, Rohan. I’m an old friend of Finn’s, and I’m trying to get in touch with him. My name is Cedar. Your husband told me Finn doesn’t live here, but, well, I was hoping maybe if I came here in person you might be willing to help me. I just want to get back in touch with Finn, that’s all. Do you know how I could get ahold of him?” Cedar took a breath and realized she had been rambling. The woman gave Cedar a hard look, but not an unkind one. “May I ask why you want to contact Finn?” she asked.

“Oh…well…” Cedar said, and then fell silent for a moment, kicking herself for not thinking this through, for not making up some plausible story. She still felt rattled from her encounter with the strange woman on the walkway. “Er, Mrs. Donnelly?” she began again.

The woman smiled, and then said, “I’m so sorry. I haven’t even introduced myself, and here I am keeping you out on the doorstep. Yes, I am Riona Donnelly. Riona will do just fine. Please, why don’t you come in for a minute?” She stepped back from the door and waved an elegant arm, indicating Cedar should follow her inside.

Cedar walked into the house and stood in the small entryway, not sure what to do next. Riona closed the door and gave her an appraising glance.

“In fact,” she said, “why don’t we have some tea?”

“Oh, I don’t really…” Cedar was about to say that she didn’t have time, but it didn’t seem like Riona was going to just jot Finn’s phone number down on a Post-it note for her
anytime soon. Maybe a cup of tea would be a good way to break the ice. “Sure,” Cedar corrected herself. “Tea would be lovely, thank you.”

Riona led her into the living room and told her to make herself comfortable, then disappeared into the kitchen. Cedar looked around. It was quite possibly one of the most beautiful rooms she had ever been in. Compared to Cedar’s minimalist, black and white apartment, this room was a riot of color. Green potted plants sat on the sill of the large picture window and hung in woven baskets from hooks in the ceiling. The walls were adorned with richly colored paintings and intricate wooden carvings. A harp stood in the corner of the room, the sunlight glittering off its polished wood. Across from the chocolate brown sofa was a tightly woven wicker papasan with a large bright red cushion. Under Cedar’s feet was a thick rug in many colors. The effect of so much going on in this one room should have been cacophonous at best, but Cedar felt that it worked perfectly. It was a room filled with life. It made her heart ache a little.

Riona came back from the kitchen carrying a tray laden with the tea things and a plate of small sandwiches and set it on the coffee table. “When I was in the kitchen I realized that it’s lunchtime, so I brought out a few sandwiches in case you’re hungry,” she said.

“Oh. Thank you.”

Riona sat on the other end of the sofa and poured the tea. As she handed a delicate china cup to Cedar, she said, “That’s better. Now, you were about to tell me why it is you’re looking for my son.”

“I haven’t heard from him in a few years and wanted to get back in touch. See how he’s doing,” Cedar said with an attempt at a casual shrug.

“Mmm,” said Riona. “Yes, Finn has been abroad for the past several years. I’m afraid my husband told you the truth if he said we don’t know exactly where he is.”

Actually, he just said he couldn’t help and hung up on me,
Cedar thought. “But surely you must have a way of getting in touch with him for emergencies or something,” she said.

Riona stirred her tea. “Well, as I’m sure you know if you were friends with him, Finn is a bit of an independent spirit. We haven’t heard from him in quite some time, but the next time we do, I’ll be sure to tell him you stopped by. It’s Cedar, right?”

Cedar stared into her cup. That was it? That was all she was going to get—a polite dismissal? She decided to try another tack. “Yes. You know, it’s odd. When Finn and I were friends, he seemed to indicate that his parents were…well, dead.” She immediately regretted saying this. What mother would want to know her child was going around saying she was dead? But Riona didn’t seem upset by this information. She just raised her eyebrows and smiled.

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