A Promise to Remember (19 page)

"Blair, Andie." He nodded at each of them. "I've got something to show you."

Blair gestured toward the open door. "Come in."

Kyle followed them into the living room but rejected Blair's
offer of a seat. "You two go ahead. I think I'll stand."

Dizziness swam in waves through Andie's head.

Kyle gestured to the bag he was carrying. "I have something
that I think you'll want. Something that belonged to Chad."

"Chad?"

Andie was glad Blair could ask the question, because she
could not.

"The ranger at Lake Cachuma was doing a little cleanup
yesterday. He found this washed up on the shore. He called us
because he remembered from the paper that Chad had apparently been out there the night of the accident. He thought it
might he important."

He reached into the bag and pulled out what at first appeared
to be old, wet newspaper. When Andie realized what he held,
the room began to spin around her. Dark spots swam before
her eyes, and then the room faded into blackness.

Blair paced the study and looked once again at the antique
clock above the mantel. Ten minutes after midnight. He felt
no desire to go to bed. He couldn't imagine closing his eyes,
facing the ever-increasing nightmares since Chad's wreck. Now
a new one had been added.

He looked at the filthy Tyvek envelope that sat on his desk, still
damp with Lake Cachuma's water, almost wishing the police had
kept it as evidence. Kyle said photographs were sufficient since
this was not a criminal case. Now it sat there, condemning Blair.
He had seen it hundreds of times over the last few years.

The words, written with black Sharpie in all capital letters,
were still legible despite their time in the lake. A DIPLOMA
FROM A PRESTIGIOUS UNIVERSITY HELPS BRING
SUCCESS. CHAD'S ACCOMPLISHMENTS TOWARD HIS
GOAL. Inside were report cards, articles about service projects,
award certificates.

Blair had come up with the idea to help Chad stay on track
and motivated. The theory was, when he felt unsure of himself
or thought he couldn't handle something, he could look at all he
had accomplished already. He could achieve his goal by taking
one step at a time. Chad, it was supposed to encourage you. Not
stress you to the breaking point.

This envelope took Chad's life-there was no hiding from
that now. Blair knew it, and knew the blame could rest nowhere
but on him.

He could still remember the last time he'd held it in his
hand. He could still hear the sound of his own voice, raised in
anger. "Young man, a C minus is not acceptable. What about
your goals, your dreams? You are going to spend the weekend
reviewing every single problem that you missed on that test,
then write Mr. Moore a letter of apology and ask for a chance
to retake this exam."

Chad's voice returned, high-pitched with anger. "Dad, I studied hard for that test. I did my best. Isn't that what you've always
said you wanted? For me to do my best?"

"I know that C minus is not your best."

"Yes it is. I spent hours preparing. I just don't understand
trig. I start working with a tutor next week; I'll review the test with him. I can't do it myself and not this weekend. We've been
planning this trip to Magic Mountain for months."

"I'll call the church myself and let them know not to wait for
you. You've got more important ways to spend your Saturday
than riding roller coasters."

Chad glared with just a hint of tears in his eyes. "I hate you!"
He ran back to his room and slammed the door.

Why hadn't Blair gone after him? Why didn't he go hack
to Chad's room and talk to him, make him understand? He
would explain the importance of a good college, the problems
he had faced because he didn't get the educational opportunities Chad now had. But that's not how he'd handled it. Instead,
he'd dressed in his finest and left for the black-tie event without
even saying good-bye. He'd planned to leave Chad to stew, and
talk rationally with him in the morning.

A morning that never dawned for Chad.

The clock gonged the half hour. Twelve-thirty.

He thought about Andie, upstairs asleep. After she'd fainted,
she'd awakened only long enough to take a tranquilizer or two
then cry herself to sleep. She'd be out for the rest of the night,
but not him. He couldn't face the long blackness.

He picked up his keys and tiptoed to the garage, thankful
the bedroom was on the far end. Andie would never hear him
leave. He drove away, a single destination on his mind.

Melanie's clock radio started pumping country music into her
bedroom at four-thirty in the morning. She reached across and
slapped the snooze.

Nine minutes later, a salesman from the local used-car lot
urged her to "Come in today-don't delay Prices this good
won't last forever."

She sat up in bed and turned off the offending noise. Today,
for the first time since KTPC had started airing that annoying
commercial, Melanie actually wished she could go to that old
car lot. Anything rather than face the day ahead.

There was no time for self-pity in the life of a single mom.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stumbled into
the shower. Half an hour later, she kissed the still-sleeping
Sarah on the forehead, poured a travel mug full of coffee, and
forced herself into her car for the first of what would be many
long days of commuting. Maybe someday she could make use
of the time, but this morning's trip offered only ninety minutes
to think and worry about the new job, with new people, in a
new place. It had been fifteen years since she'd experienced
that sensation.

She had gone to work at Alfords within a week of moving
to Santa Barbara, and although she had transferred to the new
store last year, so had many of the other employees, as well as
the customers. Now she would be walking into a store full of
strangers, having no idea what they expected of her, or what
she could expect from them.

At 6:33, she pulled into the mostly empty parking lot. She
sat in her car, trying to collect her thoughts.

The avocado green facade of the strip mall housed an Alfords,
a drugstore, and about a dozen other businesses. The A and L
in the sign needed bulb replacements, as it now simply read
FORDS. A hanging banner across the front announced the
store was open twenty-four hours-a fact for which Melanie
was grateful. She would be able to start at seven and work until
three-thirty, hopefully skirting most of the rush-hour traffic
heading into Los Angeles for the day.

Something rapped suddenly against her passenger window,
and a deep voice asked, "Melanie Johnston, is that you?"

In the dim light, she could only hope that the face belonged
to Carl Brown, the store manager, and not some deranged killer
who happened to know her name.

She opened the door and stood to peer over the roof at the
man on the other side. "Yes, I'm Melanie."

"Glad to see you're early. Nothing sours my milk like tardiness.
Personally, I like to get here while things are still quiet and plan
out my day. I can see you and I are going to get along just fine."
He walked toward the store, a box under one arm, a huge ring
of keys in the other hand. "I'm Carl Brown, by the way."

He was no taller than Melanie's five feet six, but he was almost
as large around. He had large rectangular glasses and a handlebar
moustache that curled up at the ends. Something about the way
he seemed totally at ease with himself gave Melanie the sense
she was going to like him.

He headed toward the nondescript back door. "I like to go
in the back way I can put away my things and get organized
before I make my first walkthrough of the store. Come on in,
and we'll go have a little chat in my office before I throw you
to the wolves."

Although she knew it was a joking expression, something
about the way he said it made her apprehension ratchet up a
notch.

Carl fumbled through his keys before finding the correct one
and soon had them inside.

The first thing Melanie saw was a tiny cubicle off to her left
that barely managed to contain the sparse furnishings. A rusty
metal desk and double set of filing cabinets shoved against
each other, leaving just enough room for a desk chair and a
stool across from it. "That's the managers' office," Carl said, and
Melanie noticed three different family portraits set on the filing
cabinets. Carl appeared to have three children and a pleasantlooking wife.

"I'm sure this isn't exactly like that new store you came from,
but we've been here for a while. We were due a remodel about
five years ago, but corporate keeps dragging their feet about it.
Too busy pouring money into fancy stores in high-dollar areas."
He cleared his throat and turned red, then began to unload the
contents of his box. He motioned toward the old stool. "Have
a seat if you want. Sorry there's nothing more comfortable, but
nothing else will fit in here."

Melanie sank onto the stool. "This is fine."

He walked around and sat at the desk chair. "There's something I think you need to be aware of." He laced his fingers
together on the desktop and exhaled slowly.

Oh no. Perhaps the wolves comment wasn't such a joke after
all. "Okay." Funny how her voice sounded so calm.

"We have an employee here who's been with the company a
long time. Everyone expected her to get the promotion to pricing coordinator, and quite frankly, if you hadn't come along,
she would have."

The lines around his eyes suddenly seemed more pronounced.
Did stress or regret cause the change? Either way, it didn't bode
well for Melanie.

He began to twiddle his thumbs. "When headquarters called
about sending up someone from Santa Barbara, it didn't sit well
with a lot of people."

"I had no idea."

"I'm sure you didn't."

Melanie saw no reason not to ask the next question. "What's
your position?"

"I need someone here who can do the job. I gather from the
rave reviews of your past supervisors, you are that person." His
thumbs moved faster.

"But?"

"Candace is a hard worker, too. She's been with us several
years, and she's a single mom. I know she could use the extra
money. But, as I understand it, you also are a single mom."

"Yes."

"As far as I'm concerned, you're the person for the job. End
of story."

"What about everyone else?"

"Candace won't give you any trouble. She's a hard worker
and a great person. But ... there are a couple of others who
might try to make your time here a bit... uncomfortable. I may
be overthinking it to warn you like this, but I don't want you
caught unawares."

"Thank you for the warning, Mr. Brown. I'm glad to have
the heads-up."

"Carl, please. We don't stand on formality in this store."

Melanie was even more convinced she was going to like this
man.

He stood. "Are you ready for a tour?"

The store was old and in need of some upgrades, but it was
clean and well kept. Melanie's desk was wedged into a dark
corner, surrounded by nonperishables. Her new home away
from home.

When the other employees began to trickle in to work, they
all greeted her in a friendly manner, some more reserved than
others. An attractive woman in her early thirties entered, and
a sudden hush fell onto the group. Everyone in the building
stopped what they were doing and followed her progress through
the storeroom. Melanie assumed she was Candace.

Her short brown hair bounced when she walked; her cheeks
seemed to glow with some hidden joy-or malice. She walked
directly over to Melanie.

The backroom crackled with the tension passing from one
employee to the other. Candace extended her hand. "You must
be Melanie. It's nice to have you on board. Let me know what
I can do to make your transition go smoothly." She smiled what
appeared to be a genuine smile.

In her eyes, Melanie saw something else, something she
recognized very well. Weariness. The bone-tired weariness of
a single mother. If circumstances had been different, Melanie
would have sized her up as a friend immediately. Given what
she knew, she remained wary. Time alone would tell if she was
right.