Her Name Was Annie Page 4

  “Yeah, got new furniture too,” I replied.

  “Looks nice.”

  I downed my glass of wine and took his almost empty glass from his hand to top him off with some more. We were veering toward small talk, and that was the last thing I wanted. I was hoping that maybe some more alcohol would loosen us up to talk more freely and comfortable, like we used to before we had a little thing called divorce between us.

  After a bottle of wine for me and about four more Jack and Cokes for Jack, we had bypassed the small talk and gone right into deeper conversation. I found myself laughing like I used to when he’d tell a funny story, and he seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say, instead of being off someplace else like he had been toward the end of our marriage. The conversation finally began to die down and out of nowhere I whispered, “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Being there for my mom’s funeral. I know I was kind of cold to you that day, and I’m sorry. You didn’t have to be there and you were.” That had been something that bothered me for the past year. I had felt guilty for the way I behaved toward him that day, and I felt the need to get it off my chest. I was more shocked than angered when he showed up. He did have every right to be there. She was his daughter’s grandmother as well as his mother-in-law at one time. Jack and my mother always had a good relationship. Yes, she was angry at him for what he had done, but I always felt in some small way, she was angry at me too for not giving him a second chance.

  “It’s all good,” he muttered, throwing back the rest of his drink. His eyes were glassy and heavy. Even all these years later, I could tell when he was drunk, and he was just about there.

  “Jack, I think maybe you should stay in the guest room or on the couch tonight. You’re really in no condition to drive.”

  “No, no, really, I’m fine.” He widened his eyes, trying to appear more alert.

  I took his glass from his hand and carried it to the kitchen sink, letting Max outside along the way. I stood by the sliding glass door with my head pressed against the cool glass, watching the condensation form from my warm breath as I waited for Max to do his business. It had actually been an enjoyable night with Jack. We spoke to each other in a way we hadn’t in years, and if I was being honest, I missed that. I knew the alcohol had a lot to do with it, but it was nice to be able to speak to him without the fifty-pound chip on my shoulder that normally weighed me down whenever he was around. Even though we were no longer husband and wife, we had a common love in Kara, and that would never change.

  Max came roaring up the patio, almost slamming into the glass door. Lucky for him, I was paying attention and opened it just in time. “Go lie down!” I demanded as I pointed to his bed, stunned when he walked over to it, then circled around before plopping down and making himself comfortable once again.

  Maybe Kara was right and he really was a good boy. As I reentered the living room, I stood in the door and laughed at Jack passed out on the couch snoring. I was thankful because it meant I wouldn’t have to argue with him about driving in the condition he was in. I grabbed the blanket from the back of the love seat, covered him up, then turned off the fireplace and television. As I headed up the stairs to bed, I couldn’t help but laugh at the two most unlikely houseguests sleeping in my living room—my ex and a dog.

  Chapter 7

  AS I MADE my way down the stairs, I inhaled sharply. Was that cinnamon I was smelling along with the strong aroma of fresh brewed coffee? The sound of pots and pans clanging together forced me to pick up my step a little. Did someone break into my house overnight and commandeered my kitchen? “Kara!” I exclaimed, watching her with a spatula in her hand, tending to something on the stove.

  “Well, well, well, sleeping beauty is finally awake.”

  I was feeling like I was in an alternate universe or maybe a little like the movie Freaky Friday where the mother and daughter switched bodies. Normally it was me standing behind the stove cooking breakfast, waiting for Kara to wake up.

  “What is this? Last time I checked, you didn’t even know how to work the stove.”

  “Very funny, Mom.” She poured me a cup of coffee and motioned to the island for me to have a seat. After taking a few sips of some much needed caffeine, it finally occurred to me who was on my couch. I craned my neck, trying to get a glimpse into the living room without being too obvious. “He had to go. I was just about to serve him my delicious French toast, then he got a work call and bolted out of here.” Kara busted me.

  I nodded, certain that it wasn’t a work call that led him out the door at such an early hour. It was more than likely one of the women in his life, putting out an APB on him, or he didn’t want me to get the wrong idea over the sentimental conversations we had last night. Whichever the case, I hated that he felt the need to lie to Kara about it.

  “So, what went on here last night?” Kara asked, lifting up an empty wine bottle in one hand and an almost empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s in the other.

  “Let’s see, your dog crapped on almost every surface of my kitchen floor. You know how well I handle cleaning up bodily fluids, so Dad had to take charge. After that we both needed a little drink.”

  “A little drink?” Kara’s eyes shifted to the bottles of alcohol she had placed on the counter just moments ago.

  “So you’re making French toast?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation back to the present and not last night. Not that anything had happened, but I was getting the feeling that Kara may have thought differently. “Do not feed him any!” I added, as my gaze focused on Max, who was sitting right by Kara’s feet, just waiting for a scrap of food to fall his way.

  She removed the French toast from the pan and plated it up. “Here you go, madam,” she teased, placing it in front of me. I had to admit, it was picture-perfect and smelled divine.

  “What is all this about?” I asked, as I watched her pour a glass of orange juice and then place it in front of my plate.

  She shrugged. “Can’t a daughter do something nice for her mother?”

  “Sure, but be warned, I can get used to this.” I cut into my French toast and took a forkful to my mouth. “Kara, this is delicious! When did you learn to cook like this?”

  She took a seat next to me. “I don’t know. I guess I got sick of eating all that frozen crap and decided to give a try at cooking. See, I did pay attention to some things you tried to teach me.” She laughed and took a sip of her coffee. “It was really nice to spend time with you and Dad together last night.” Her tone instantly became more serious. “I mean, it’s not often that I can get you guys together in the same room for more than five minutes.”

  I shrugged. “Well, it’s been a long time since our divorce, and we’re both kind of accepting that we have our own lives now.” I forced a smile that I was hoping would be reassuring to her even if it wasn’t to myself.

  “He’s not a bad person, Mom.”

  My eyes widened. Was that how she thought I viewed her father? Did my behavior all these years lead her to believe such a thing? I had always made a point of never allowing Kara to know how I was feeling about Jack. Not even when I was in total shock after learning about his affair did I ever bad-mouth him in front of her. I was always able to put on a happy face, allowing her to think her dad was the greatest guy ever. I’d reserve my little breakdowns for when I was all alone.

  I was so angry at Jack for being unfaithful, but the truth was, I was angry with him a long time before that. His little slipup was just the icing on the cake. There were a lot of other things in our marriage that contributed to its demise, things I would never allow Kara to know about, not even now as an adult, because I didn’t want her to have a slanted view on either of us. She was our daughter, and she loved us both equally, and that was the way it should be. “I never said he was a bad person, Kara. Why would you think that?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just sometimes, you can come off as a little cold toward him when he’s trying to make an effort
.”

  She was right, and I couldn’t deny that. “Sometimes when people are together for so long and then break up, it’s hard to pretend like you never once had feelings for them. So it’s easier to try and turn them off completely. It’s different when you’re younger and not married because then you never have to see that person again, so you’re not constantly reminded of the memories of them. But when you have a child together, and you’re still seeing them all the time, it’s a little harder to suppress. So I guess maybe I was a little cold toward him because I’d always think of how our life could’ve been if we were still together.”

  “Then why didn’t you ever give him a second chance?” I was unsure how to answer that, especially to her. “I know he didn’t want a divorce, Mom. I remember a week before my thirteenth birthday. Dad came back to drop off my backpack that I had left at his house after spending the weekend there. You guys both thought I was asleep, but I wasn’t. I was standing at the top of the steps, and Dad was begging you to give him another chance. His voice cracked so many times, like he wanted to cry. My big, strong father, who I believed would protect me from anyone, sounded so sad and weak. I cried myself to sleep that night, and every time I thought about it for months after, I’d break down in tears. I was angry at you for a long time after that.”

  I remembered a phase in Kara’s life around that time when she was just plain old nasty, but I had chalked it up to hormones and a rite of passage every mother faces with a teenage girl. I sighed heavily, placed my hands on each side of her face and stared into her tear-filled eyes. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. I never ever wanted to involve you in any of the problems Dad and I were facing in our marriage. You were a child, and I wanted to keep everything as normal as possible for you so you could have a happy childhood. That’s all we both wanted for you.”

  “And you did, Mom. I just never understood why you couldn’t forgive him.” Kara’s phone began to ring from the other side of the kitchen, but she ignored it, waiting for my reply.

  I blinked hard, trying to come up with the right words as to how I was feeling at that time. Words that wouldn’t implicate Jack as the bad guy or myself either. “At the time, I just couldn’t. There were a lot of things that factored into that decision. Things I’d rather have kept only between your father and me.”

  She nodded and forced a smile. As much as I didn’t like it, she was all grown up and was able to see things from an adult perspective. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tightly. My little baby was now a woman. Soon she’d be facing all the triumphs and tribulations that came with that title. Like my mother who was always there for me, I was planning to always be there for Kara whenever she needed me.

  “Who the heck keeps trying to call me?” Kara asked, dabbing her tear-filled eyes with a napkin. She got up and grabbed her ringing phone, flashing the screen in front of me that displayed Dad. “Does he have this place bugged? Maybe he knows we were talking about him.” I was happy to see a genuine smile flash across her face.

  “Hey, Dad,” she answered. “Yeah, she’s right here.”

  I swallowed down the bite of French toast I had taken before she handed off the phone to me. “Hi, Jack,” I greeted.

  “Steph, how fast can you meet me at the police station by the beach house?”

  “What?”

  “They found some things involving the man in the ocean you need to see. Can you meet me there in an hour?”

  I still needed to shower and that particular police station was about a forty-five-minute drive away. “Can you give me two?”

  “Yeah. That’s fine.” There was an urgency to Jack’s voice that immediately had me on edge.

  “What type of things did they find that could possibly involve me?”

  “We’ll talk about it when you get here. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

  “Okay.” I ended the call with a million thoughts racing through my head, none of them being very positive.

  Chapter 8

  THE RELAXING SATURDAY morning I had planned turned into a chaotic mess. After shoving the rest of my breakfast down my throat, I showered, put on my makeup, and dressed in record time before heading out the door. It was when I stepped out into the sunlight that I realized I had on two different color boots. Thankfully, I was still home and able to run back inside and change. My messy appearance on the outside of a haphazard bun, oversized sweater, and ripped-up jeans was no match for how I was feeling on the inside. My stomach was in knots. The closer I got to the police station, the more internal churning I would feel. What was so important that I needed to get down here immediately and why wouldn’t Jack tell me anything over the phone? I was about to find out.

  Jack was waiting for me in front of the police station. He ushered me inside in a no-nonsense matter as if I was just some ordinary victim or maybe suspect. Since I didn’t know what was going to be thrown at me, I didn’t know what to think anymore.

  “Jack, can you please tell me what’s going on?” I asked once we stopped at the closed doorway I was assuming we’d be entering.

  His eyes met mine. One of the things I had learned about Jack after being with him for so long was that his eyes would turn a darker shade of blue whenever he had something weighing heavily on his mind. At that moment his clear blue eyes were like when the bright blue sky is overtaken by storm clouds. He went to reply, but the detective who was at the beach house the day of the incident interrupted us.

  “Good morning, Ms. McGuire, thanks for coming on such short notice.”

  I didn’t even bother to correct him again and tell him to call me by my first name. I was too scared. Bypassing nervous and slipping into terrified just a few seconds ago. When he opened the closed office door we were standing in front of, I stretched my neck over his shoulder to find another officer sitting around the table. I knew this scenario all too well from watching one too many episodes of Law and Order. They would both take their turns questioning me, one being sympathetic, the other being brash, trying to get me to crack. The only difference was, I had zero information to give them.

  “Should I have a lawyer here or something?”

  The detective laughed and Jack immediately chimed in, “No, not at all.” He turned his attention to the detective. “I want to talk to her alone for a second.”

  “No problem,” the detective said, entering the room and closing the door behind him.

  “Jack, what the hell is going on?” I hissed.

  “Where’s Kara?” he asked.

  “She’s home. She was getting ready to go visit my dad. Why?”

  “They tracked the victim’s credit card activity and were able to find the hotel he was staying at right before…he killed himself.”

  “And?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to move him along.

  “They found photos in his room. Some were of you and some were of Kara. They were all taken from a distance, like he or someone else had been watching you.”

  “What?” My voice was a mere whisper. The fear I had been feeling a short time ago had escalated to pure terror. “Kara!” I shouted. “Did you warn her?”

  He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Just relax. I don’t want to make her nervous for no reason. I have it covered for right now. Trust me, she’s fine.”

  He has it covered? Did that mean he had someone following her to make sure nothing bad happened to her? Panic coursed through as a memory of something I had suppressed for so long came to the forefront of my mind. “We can’t keep this a secret from her, Jack.”

  “I know, but for right now just take a look at the photos and see if you remember when they were taken.”

  I nodded and warily followed him into the room, with my legs feeling like they were going to give out on me at any moment. “Ms. McGuire…”

  “Stephanie,” I corrected.

  “I’m so sorry. Stephanie.” The detective who I was already acquainted with began, “This is John Mathis. He’s another detective here.”

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p; “Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand to me, and I made my best effort to shake it. “Please have a seat.”

  I slid into the chair across from him and Jack took the empty seat next to me.

  “Did your husband tell you why we called you in?”

  Normally I’d jump right in and clarify that Jack was my ex-husband to anyone who made the mistake he had just made, but I was feeling too defeated to even argue the point. I nodded. Certain the manila folder sitting in front of him contained the photos I was so terrified of seeing.

  “I need you to look these over and see if you have any recollection of what day they may have been taken or where you may have been. Anything you could give us would be of great help.”

  I pinched my eyes closed for a split second and took a deep breath as he slid the first photograph in front of me. Jack was right, it was taken from a distance and then zoomed in. I was dressed casually in a T-shirt and jeans, with my hair slicked back in a ponytail. I immediately recognized the striped awning in front of my parents’ home. “That was from about a month ago at my father’s house.” I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone, searching through my calendar app. “It was October fourteenth. I had off from school that day for Columbus Day, and my father and I had gone out to lunch.”

  “Do you remember anything else about the day? Did you go anywhere else, did you get any weird vibes that you were being followed?” Detective Mathis asked.

  I stared down at the table, trying to remember every detail of that day, but there weren’t very many. It was pretty ordinary. “After lunch we went to the farm stand and we got some mums and pumpkins, and that was really it.” I focused my attention back to the detective. “And, no, I didn’t get the sense that I was being followed.” I gasped when another thought came to me, one almost as terrifying as Kara being stalked. “You don’t think my dad is in danger?” My voice cracked in panic.

  “No.” Jack shook his head in a reassuring manner.

  Detective Mathis scribbled something on his notepad and then slid a second photograph my way. It was one of me taken at school as I got out of my car. It was definitely taken on a Monday. I knew this because I was wearing the summer clearance dress I had found and fallen in love with at Nordstrom the weekend prior. I remembered coming home, thinking I’d have to wait until next summer to wear it only to open my weather app to find the projected forecast for that coming Monday was going to be near eighty degrees. That had been the one and only day the weather permitted me to wear it.