Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3)(36)

“True, but by then I wouldn’t have cared. I was eighteen and I could stand up to him.”

“What about now?” Yvette asked. “What would you do if you ran into Jake now?”

That gave her pause. “I…I don’t know.”

“I know,” Carolyn insisted. “I’d march right up to him and ask why he stopped writing to you!”

Susannah laughed with her friends, but she had to wonder what she’d do if she did meet Jake again after all these years.

CHAPTER 13

Susannah arrived home from Carolyn’s house at close to midnight. The evening had given her exactly the infusion of energy she needed. The discontent she’d been feeling for months was affecting her marriage—and that might be one of the reasons she’d started to dream about Jake.

Susannah sincerely hoped this time apart would revive her relationship with her husband. But right now, pleasantly tired and with her spirits high, she didn’t want to think about her mother or Joe or anything else. She unlocked the front door and stepped into the dark house. Even before she turned on the light, she froze, instinct taking over. Flipping the switch, she quickly surveyed the room. Someone had been in the house. The first thing she noticed was that the pillows on the sofa weren’t the way they’d been left. Her mother had always propped them against the sofa’s arms. Before she’d gone to Carolyn’s, Susannah had moved them to the top of the sofa. Both were back where her mother used to keep them.

She felt the same eerie sensation she’d experienced the day she discovered Doug’s high school track ribbons were missing. With absolute certainty, Susannah knew that once again someone had been inside the house. Every cell in her body relayed that message.

Susannah remained motionless, studying the immediate area for additional signs of an intruder. Her relaxed mood evaporated as her senses went on high alert. Her ears strained for any sound, but she heard nothing.

Other than the sofa pillows, nothing appeared to be out of place. Perhaps she was being unnecessarily suspicious or overdramatic, but she distinctly remembered moving those pillows. It’d been a small act of defiance, foolish really. And yet it provided evidence that there’d been an intruder. While Susannah was with Carolyn and her friends, reminiscing and sipping wine, a stranger had entered the house. Another thought suddenly occurred to her.

Whoever it was might still be inside.

The faintest of sounds—the creak of a floorboard—came from the direction of the hallway. Susannah’s heart began a staccato beat that slammed against her chest. Her mouth went instantly dry.

Whoever had broken into the house was still there.

Hands shaking almost uncontrollably, she searched her purse for her cell phone and nearly groaned aloud when she remembered she’d kept it in the car to recharge the battery.

Before she could decide on the best course of action, the bedroom door opened.

Terror gripped her. Dashing to the door, Susannah had her hand on the knob, ready to bolt, when a sleepy voice called out from behind her.

“Mom?”

Susannah whirled around. “Chrissie?”

It was her daughter!

“Where were you?” Chrissie rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

Susannah hurried over to hug her daughter but had more than a few questions herself. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to help you with Grandma,” her daughter said, covering her mouth in an attempt to hold back a wide yawn. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Midnight.”

“Where were you so long?”

“With friends.” Setting down her purse, Susannah walked into the kitchen and turned on the light. The message signal on the answering machine was flashing. “I think we both need to sit down and talk about this.”

“I tried to let you know I was coming,” Chrissie said.

The flashing light was proof enough of that.

“You didn’t answer your cell phone, either.”

“It’s charging in the car.”

“You didn’t even look at the phone when you got in?”

Susannah shook her head. It hadn’t occurred to her to check. Since she’d spoken to Joe earlier in the day, she hadn’t expected to hear from him again.

“How’d you get to Colville, anyway?” Susannah had one car, Joe another and Brian drove a clunker to and from work.

Chrissie’s smile wasn’t as confident now. “Carley Lyons phoned this morning and said she was driving to Spokane. I figured if I was that close, there had to be a way to Colville. Carley said I could get a ride with her if I paid half the gas and I did.”

“Then how did you get from Spokane to Colville?” Susannah had a feeling she wasn’t going to like the answer.

Chrissie’s shoulders heaved. “It wasn’t easy. Carley dropped me off at the bus depot. There are some really creepy-looking people there, you know. Besides, the next bus to Colville wasn’t until the weekend.”

Susannah nodded, waiting for the rest of the story.

“Then I thought of John Mussetter. He moved to Spokane a little while ago. You remember him, don’t you? Really, how many Mussetters could there be in the phone book? I called him and he said he’d drive me to Colville if I paid for his gas and time. I agreed to give him all the money I had with me, which wasn’t as much as he wanted, so I told him you’d pay him the rest and then you weren’t here, so I owe him fifty dollars.”