When Darkness Falls (7 page)

“No matter what the casserole looks like, just smile and say
thanks
,” Darbie said under her breath.

T
he white sand
was blistering hot under her feet and shots fired around her like a thousand firecrackers exploding in rapid succession. She ran without reason, her only thought was of Dan. Dan was out there in the whirling storm, and she had to get to him before it happened. The scene changed, and she was sitting on her bed, the whiteness of the comforter billowing around her, and then the bottle tipped. Blood red polish flowing across the white. Dan’s blood flowing on the sand … Dan’s blood flowing on her hands!

Chloe shot up in bed and moaned. Her hands … all sticky. She was wet all over—drenched in her own sweat. She looked wildly around the room, her mind trying to distinguish between the dream and reality. A rustle caught her attention, and she looked toward the window. There was something there. The dread that choked over her was all too familiar as goose bumps rose over her flesh. She saw his face in the window. “Dan!” she gasped. She struggled to get out of bed but got tangled in the covers and tumbled to the floor. In the next second, she was on her feet and at the window. “Dan!” She peered out, her eyes scouring the yard for some trace of him. The swing in Lila’s backyard was rocking wildly back and forth, and she had the insane impression that Dan was sitting there, waiting for her to join him. She ran down the hall to the front door. Without another thought, she unbolted the door, threw it open, and ran out into the night.

“Dan!” she called, her voice sounding hollow and strange as it floated across the night air. She ran around the backyard toward the swing but stopped short before she got there.

The night was perfectly calm—not even the slightest hint of a breeze, and the swing was still.

W
hen her alarm
clock went off, Chloe hit the snooze button three times before dragging herself out of bed. The events from the night before came rushing back, bringing with it the despair that was all too familiar.
So much for new surroundings and a fresh start!
She went to the window and looked out, not sure what she was expecting to see. The swing looked cheerful in the morning light. Nothing sinister about it. Just a plain, wooden swing. She turned away from the window. She needed help, and the terrible part was that she was too afraid to tell anyone. A cold sweat broke across her forehead, and she sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to get a good breath.
It’ll be okay
, she told herself.
This too shall pass. I’ll make it go away
. After a few minutes, she felt better and more in control. She forced her mind away from the night before and focused on the day ahead. Today was the day she would have to go back to the design center and return that woman’s shoes. Afterwards, she would continue her job search.

By the time she got out of the shower, she could almost convince herself that the events from the night before were only a bad dream. To ensure that she wouldn’t chicken out of going to Marsh Interiors, Chloe phoned the receptionist and told her she would stop by to return the shoes. Then she turned her attention to getting dressed. She selected a pair of white pants and a tangerine blouse. She finished off the ensemble with a bangle bracelet and long earrings that dangled.

She checked her appearance in the mirror and decided that she looked the part of an up-and-coming interior designer. Now she just needed to come across as a professional and avoid any pits in the sidewalks.

Chloe’s dark hair had a natural wave to it, but she flat-ironed it until it glistened like polished stone. Then thinking the straightness was too severe, she used a curling iron to round the ends, giving her a softer look. She then applied tinted moisturizer, a few strokes of mascara, and lipstick, and she was ready to go. Darbie didn’t have any classes today, but she was already up and singing in the shower. With a little luck, she could grab a bagel and be out the door before Darbie was finished. She didn’t know whether or not Darbie had heard her open the front door in the middle of the night, but she hoped to avoid any questions. Beasty came into the room and rubbed against her leg. She bent down to pet him, and he scurried out the door. “You little traitor. You thought I was Darbie, didn’t you?” What was it about that darn cat? It had taken him all of a week to transfer his affections to Darbie.

Five minutes later, and she was out the door and rushing head-on into Susan.

“Good morning, Chloe. Where are you off to?”

“Just running a few errands,” Chloe said vaguely, not wanting to have to explain herself.

“Well, I’m glad I caught you. I wanted to see if I could borrow Beasty again.” It sounded like she was asking to use the vacuum cleaner.

“Uh … sure. Do you want me to get him for you?”

“No, I’ll get him.” She breezed past Chloe.

“Okay, bye,” Chloe said, but Susan was already inside the house.

“So much for privacy,” Chloe muttered under her breath.

T
he girl
who let her borrow the shoes was standing behind her desk when Chloe arrived at Marsh Interiors. She thought she remembered Mr. Singleton calling her
Yvette
but wasn’t sure, so she didn’t call her by name. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you letting me borrow your shoes,” Chloe said, holding them out to her.

She smiled. “Glad I could help.”

“Well, thanks again.” Chloe turned to leave.

“Wait. I told Hank you were coming in today to return my shoes, and he said he would like to speak with you.”

Chloe froze. “What does he want to speak to me about?”

“Can I tell him you’re here?”

She nodded.

A second later, Hank Singleton appeared. He was younger than Chloe remembered and a lot better looking. As a matter of fact, he reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on whom. What was it about him that seemed familiar? His features, his demeanor, or the expression on his face—maybe all of the above.

“Good morning,” he said briskly, extending his hand like they were meeting for the first time.

She smiled and reached for his hand. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Singleton?”

He looked her up and down, making her feel that she was somehow sub par in his watchful eyes. “Hank.”

She looked at him, not sure how to respond.

“You can call me
Hank
,” he clarified.

“Oh … okay.” An awkward laugh escaped her lips. “Hank.”

He gave her a funny look. Now she knew why she hadn’t found him attractive before.
Talk about a stiff!

He motioned. “Please, step into my office.”

She sat perched on the edge of the chair, waiting for him to speak.

“I feel that I owe you an apology for the last time we met. I’m afraid I may have been rude.”

May have been rude?
He practically threw her out of his office. But she couldn’t exactly bring that to his attention. “Well, I guess it’s not everyday that a person shows up shoeless for a job interview.” Admittedly, it was a poor attempt at humor, but she expected him to at least give her a courtesy laugh for the effort. When he didn’t, her face flamed.

“You have to admit the circumstances were a bit unusual.”

She nodded. “Yes, it’s not everyday that the heel of my shoe gets caught and that I go plowing into the sidewalk.”

He didn’t even crack a smile. This guy was tough.

“I’m afraid we didn’t have much of an interview last time,” he said.

“No, we didn’t.”

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to interview you now.”

She licked her dry lips. “Of course.”

C
hloe could’ve
sung hallelujahs all the way out of Hank Singleton’s office. He offered her a job on the spot—at a higher salary than she’d expected.

Yvette looked up from her desk and gave Chloe a knowing smile. “Things went better this time.”

“Much. I got the job.”

“Congratulations.”

Hank stepped out of his office and looked at Chloe quizzically, as if to ask why she was still there.

“Yvette, I need to see you for a minute.”

She shot out of her chair so fast that Chloe halfway expected her to salute him. Geez, what kind of man was he anyway?

“See you Monday,” he said curtly before turning his back to her.

Chloe nodded. Not that he stood around long enough to notice. She’d been dismissed and forgotten about for the moment. From the looks of things, this was going to be an interesting place to work. But she’d gotten the job! It was all she could do to keep from dancing her way to the car.

She reached for her phone. “Mom! I got the job,” she said breathlessly.

“Congratulations, honey. Which one?”

“At Marsh Interiors.”

“Wow, honey, that’s great. I told you I felt good about that job.” There was a hint of reproof in her voice, which Chloe ignored. “When do you start?”

“Next Monday. I’m so excited I can hardly stand it.”

“You sound good.”

“I am good, Mom.”

There was a pause.

“Is everything okay … I mean … well … have you had anymore dreams?”

“No, Mom. You don’t have to worry. I’m not cracking up.” The words came out sounding more abrupt than she’d intended, and she heard her mother’s sharp intake of breath. “I’m fine,” she said a little kinder. “Really. If you don’t believe me, just ask Darbie.”

“I believe you, honey.” Another pause. “I just worry about you, that’s all.”

“Well don’t,” she snapped.

A beep interrupted them. “Mom, I’ve got another call coming in. I’ll call you back later … okay … love you.”

She answered the call, surprised to hear Darbie’s voice. “Chloe! You’ve got to get home now!”

Chloe’s heart lurched. Had something happened to Beasty? She should’ve never let Susan take him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Shoes!”

“What?”

“A man arrived a few minutes ago from Dillard’s department store, and he’s been bringing in boxes of shoes for the past five minutes.”

Confusion swirled around Chloe. “But I didn’t order—”

Darbie’s squeal cut her off short. “Are those Birkenstocks? You won’t believe this! Toms, Gianni Bini, Calvin Klein, Jessica Simpson, Antonio Melani, Nike! Oh my gosh! This is incredible! What size shoe do you wear?” She let out an impatient huff when Chloe remained silent. “Hello? Are you there?”

“I’m here. I thought you were talking to that man in the background.”

“Well?”

“You want to know my shoe size?”

“YEAH!”

“Seven and a half.”

Darbie started laughing like she was deliriously happy. “Yes!”

Chloe shook her head. “I don’t understand. What’s going on? Why are you naming shoe brands? Who did you say was there?”

Darbie was too busy talking to the man to answer. “Thank you!”

“For what?” Chloe said and then realized that Darbie wasn’t talking to her. She rolled her eyes. Darbie was so exasperating! Why did she even bother calling when she was obviously caught up in another conversation with some deliveryman?

“You there?” Darbie practically yelled.

Chloe held the phone away from her ear and winced. “I’m here.”

“There’s a card.”

This was getting old fast. She blew out a breath. “Darbie, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

“Mind if I open it?”

“What?”

“The card.”

“Is it addressed to me?”

Darbie laughed. “Well, duh! Who else?”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “As if I have a choice in the matter,” she mumbled. “Go ahead!”

“Ooh, this is juicy.”

“Huh?”

“It says:”

“What token?” Chloe asked dubiously.

Darbie hooted. “An entire house full of shoes.”

Chloe had just about had enough. It was all she could do to keep her voice even. If she’d been talking to Darbie in person, she would’ve strangled her. “I haven’t understood a word you’ve been telling me. You keep spouting off things in disjointed sentences, and then half the time, you’re not even talking to me. Could you please tell me what the heck is going on?”

“Okay, already. I’ll start from the beginning. Geez. Don’t get your panties in a wad. I was getting caught up on homework, and the doorbell rang. I went to answer it, and there was a man standing on the porch. He said he was from Dillard’s Department Store and that he had a delivery for Chloe Kensley. Then he started bringing in boxes of shoes.”

“What kinds of shoes?”

“All kinds. Some are dress shoes and others are casual. There’s even a pair of Timberland hiking boots. If you don’t want them then maybe I could—”

“How many pairs of shoes?”

“Just a minute. Let me count them.”

There was some rustling in the background before Darbie returned a couple of minutes later. “Thirty-two in all. I’ve never seen so many beautiful shoes in my life. How did you?” she blustered. “I mean when did you meet ... Who is this guy?”

Chloe was stunned. He’d sent her thirty-two pairs of shoes … after one date? Unbelievable!

“Are you there?”

“Yeah. Just shocked.” She laughed. “I can’t believe he sent me all of those shoes.”

“Why shoes?”

“Remember the other day when I went for the interview that ended so disastrously?” She didn’t spell out that Darbie’s taking her car was the largest contributor to the mishap. “Anyway, I ruined my shoe and had to go to the interview shoeless. On my way out, I ran into Garrett … literally. And we ended up going out.”

“On a date?”

“Yeah.”

“But you never said anything.”

“You never asked.”

Darbie laughed. “Well, aren’t you just the little spitfire. Everyone’s all worried that you’re pining away over your dead fiancé, and here you are going out with some guy … Is he cute?”

“Oh, he’s more than cute.”

Another squeal. This one followed by a deviant giggle. “What does he look like?”

“Blond, lean … kind of like Brad Pitt … almost too handsome, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, no, a man can never be too handsome … or rich like this one obviously is.”

“If you say so.” Chloe had been driving the entire time they were talking and was now less than five minutes from their house.

“Do you mind if I try some of them on?”

Chloe smiled at the eagerness in Darbie’s voice. “Knock yourself out. I’ll be there shortly.”

T
he first thing
Chloe saw when she stepped through the door was Darbie, sitting in the living room floor, trying on shoes. A feeling of awe tingled over her as she looked at the assortment of beautiful shoes. “Wow!” she murmured, dropping her purse on the couch.

“
Wow
indeed,” Darbie agreed, shoving her foot into a gold, high-heeled sandal. She held out her foot, inspecting it. “What do you think?”

Chloe sat down on the floor beside her. “I don’t know what to think.” She picked up a pair of Toms that were a white woven pattern made of canvas.

“This guy must be really something.”

“Yeah.” She put down the Toms and reached for the shiny red sandals made by Gianni Bini. “Did you say he left me a card?”

Darbie motioned. “It’s on the side table,” she said absently, her attention immediately going back to the shoes as she removed the gold sandal and tried on the pink, Nike tennis shoe.

Chloe went to the table and picked up the card. It was just as Darbie had read to her over the phone—a simple note, nothing more. She turned it over. It was blank on the back. Mixed emotions warred inside her as she looked at the shoes. They were amazing—any girl’s dream—and yet she felt guilty for accepting such an extravagant gift from someone she’d only just met. Her mother would be mortified if she saw this. Then it dawned on her that she had no way to contact Garrett. He’d not left his number on the card, and she’d not even thought to get his last name. How could she have gone on a date with a guy and not even gotten his last name? A sense of shame covered her as she stood, looking down at the pile of shoes. The right thing to do would be to return them to Dillards, but that would be awkward and rude. And she didn’t even know from which Dillards they’d come. She blew out a breath and gathered her hair into a ponytail, holding it high on her head.