Next Door Secrets (Secrets Series Book 2) Read online




  NEXT DOOR SECRETS

  BY KAREN LENFESTEY

  ACKNOWEDGMENTS

  I’d like to thank my first readers Jennifer Newton, Judy Post and Paula Adams for all of their advice. Thanks to Scribes for always offering new insights into my writing.

  Copyright © 2014 Karen Lenfestey

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  NEXT DOOR SECRETS

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lightning flashed across the evening sky, illuminating a little girl sobbing on Bethany’s stoop. The child’s head rested on her pulled up knees and dark hair hid her face, but there was no mistaking that despair rocked her small frame.

  Beth parked her car in the lot and stepped into the bitter wind. A big storm was about to let loose. As she turned up the collar of her trench coat, she rushed toward the girl, trying to remember her name. She’d seen her around the neighborhood, but only from a distance. “Kaylee?”

  The tiny head shot up and the eyes gazing back at Beth were so blue, the breath caught in her throat. Tears shone on the girl’s chubby cheeks as her lips parted, but she didn’t speak.

  Beth figured the girl was about seven or eight. Too young to be sitting out here alone. “What’s wrong?”

  The girl used her turquoise mitten with a hole in the thumb to wipe her nose. “My dad said not to talk to strangers.”

  Beth nodded. “That’s good advice. I’m your neighbor.” She pointed to her door on the right. “Your dad helped me figure out the trick to opening the mailboxes.”

  “You have to jiggle the key.” She straightened up as if the conversation had distracted her from her woes.

  The man hadn’t bothered to introduce himself, but she’d noticed the name Jim Stein on the mailbox. “Anyway, I heard him call you Kaylee once, but I guess we’ve never formally met.” She could barely resist the urge to sit down and wrap an arm around the girl, but she didn’t want to spook her. With a smile, she waved. “I’m Bethany, but my friends call me Beth.”

  Kaylee blinked at her with dark eyelashes stuck together by tears.

  The wind blew a strand of Beth’s dishwater blonde hair into her face. “It’s going to start pouring any minute. Why don’t you go inside?”

  “I can’t. My dad gave me a key, but I lost it.”

  “Maybe we could call your dad.”

  The girl shook her head. “He’ll be mad.”

  “I’m sure he’ll understand. He wouldn’t want you to sit outside in this weather. When’s he coming back?”

  She shrugged.

  “So no one else is home?” Beth knocked on the door just to make sure. No answer. “What about your mom? Where’s she?”

  Her lower lip jutted out and she looked as if she might start to cry again. “She died.”

  Sympathy jabbed Beth’s heart. No little girl should have to grow up without a mother. “Sorry.” She wasn’t sure what to say. “Tell me your dad’s phone number and I’ll call him.”

  “555-1246.”

  Beth pulled out her cell phone and dialed. “I’m looking for Jim Stein.”

  An elderly man answered. “Wrong number.” Click.

  Lightening flashed again, resembling the jagged branch of a tree. Beth returned her attention to Kaylee. “Are you sure that’s the right number?”

  The little girl twisted her mouth to the side. “I think so.” A crack of thunder made her tremble.

  Beth certainly didn’t want to negate the child’s instincts not to trust strangers, but she couldn’t let her freeze out here either. Her gaze landed on the numbers mounted on the door behind Kaylee. 1246. That was her address, not her phone number. “We could put a note on the door telling your dad that you’re with me. At least that way you can stay warm until he gets home.”

  “I don’t know.” She twisted a lock of hair near her ear and Beth noticed the lobe burned pink.

  “How long have you been out here?”

  “Since the school bus dropped me off.”

  A check of Beth’s watch revealed that it was five thirty. Kaylee had probably been outside for at least two hours. “Don’t you have a hat?”

  “I lost it.”

  Kids. They were so busy noticing butterflies and dandelions that the little details like keeping track of a hat or a key slipped their minds. Beth couldn’t help but smile. “You know what would be perfect? We could make hot chocolate while we wait for your dad.”

  “Do you have Swiss Miss?”

  “I don’t think so. But I have real cocoa. We could make it the old-fashioned way.”

  “Will it have marshmallows?”

  “I’m afraid not.” Suddenly Beth hated how she had to keep treats out of her pantry for fear of putting the weight back on. If she’d known she was going to have company, she would’ve gladly stocked up, but a trip to the store was out of the question now. She needed to get Kaylee inside. “I’ll be right back.” She dashed inside her apartment, found a piece of paper and wrote a note to Kaylee’s father. Once outside again, she taped it to her neighbor’s door. “See? He’ll know you’re with me.”

  Just then the heavens unleashed the downpour they had promised. On instinct, Beth reached her hand out, but Kaylee didn’t take it. She did stand, however, and follow Beth inside.

  The air warmed Beth’s cheeks as soon as she opened the door to her apartment. She hung their coats on pegs before they walked through the living room into the small kitchen. The window above the sink blurred with violent raindrops.

  Kaylee climbed up on one of the island’s barstools and swung her legs back and forth. “Your place looks just like ours!”

  Nodding, Beth pulled out the Hershey’s cocoa and scanned the back for a recipe. “I used to love making hot cocoa with my dad when I was your age. We’d drink it in the basement and watch Star Trek.”

  “What’s Star Trek?”

  Beth’s jaw dropped open in mock surprise. “What’s Star Trek? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  The girl shrugged. Once the milk was warmed in the microwave, Beth stirred in the cocoa and sugar and placed it in front of Kaylee. “Be careful you don’t burn yourself.” She watched as Kaylee took a sip. “Do you like it?”

  “Not as good as Swiss Miss, but it’s OK.”

  Beth chuckled and headed for the living room where she kept her DVD’s on a bookshelf. Star Trek, The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager, Enterprise—they were all here. The original series’ special effects would probably make Kaylee laugh. But Voyager’s Captain Janeway, the first female captain, would be a good role model for a little girl. Beth pulled out the pilot episode and turned toward the kitchen. “Bring your cocoa in here and we’ll watch a little Star Trek while we wait for your dad.”

  “I’m not allowed to drink in the living room. Dad says I might spill.”

  Again Beth smirked. “That’s okay. Those are your dad’s rules, but in my apartment, it’s fine to drink in the living room.” She’d cleaned up many spills while helping raise her ex-boyfriend’s niece and she still had the bottle of stain remover in the closet.

  Kaylee climbed off her stool and carried her mug slowly across the carpet. She gingerly placed it on a coaster before sitting cross-legged on the couch. A grin radiated from her face.

  Beth allowed her gaze to linger on Kaylee’s features a little longer. This was such an unexpected treat—having a child sitting in her living room. A second later something intangible squeezed Beth�
��s chest. She’d walked away from her chance for hugs and hot cocoa and all the good stuff kids could bring. What if she’d missed her only chance? A sigh escaped her lips.

  “What’s wrong?” Kaylee asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “You look sad.”

  “Nope.” Time for a distraction. Beth grabbed the remote and hit “play.” “This takes place in the future in outer space.” When the horns started playing the familiar theme song, her spirits lifted a little. The melody always made her feel as if she should stand up and salute.

  They watched as the ship encountered a displacement wave and killed some of the crew. Beth scanned Kaylee’s face to see if it was too much. A frown pulled at the girl’s lips.

  Shaking her head, Beth realized she hadn’t ever watched this episode through the eyes of a child. “Just remember this is pretend.” She hoped that would help ease her distress. Kaylee gripped her mug and continued to fixate on the screen.

  Rain continued to pelt the windows, but it became like white noise that they soon forgot. Throughout the show, Beth kept sneaking glances at the child, thinking, This is what it would be like to be a mom.

  Toward the end of the episode, the phone rang. Beth jumped up, hoping it was Kaylee’s father, but then realized if he saw the note, he’d just walk over. “Hello?”

  “It’s me.”

  Recognizing her boyfriend’s friendly voice, she carried the receiver into the kitchen so she wouldn’t disturb Kaylee. “Hi, Parker.”

  “I’m afraid I need to cancel our plans tonight.”

  She glanced at her watch and saw that it was nearly seven. “That’s OK. I’m babysitting the neighbor girl and I have no idea when her dad will get home.” Peering into the living room, she saw that Kaylee’s attention was still glued to the sci-fi show. Beth lowered her voice. “I hope he wasn’t in an accident or something.”

  “He’s probably just stuck at work.” It sounded as if Parker were calling from his cell while traffic whirred in the background. “Since when do you babysit?”

  “Starting today.”

  “Do you think it’s a good idea considering. . . .” He probably worried that she’d get too attached, just as she had with her ex-boyfriend’s niece. She still kept Emma’s picture tucked away in her desk drawer because it hurt too much to look at her.

  “To be honest, I don’t know. What’s keeping you busy tonight?”

  “Ivy called.”

  Beth groaned before he could finish.

  “I have to go. She’s desperate and she needs my help.”

  Beth tapped her forehead against the wall. Ivy had been stealing Parker away from her for sixteen years.

  CHAPTER TWO

  This was the last place in the world Parker wanted to be. He pulled his Porsche SUV in front of the Chicago jazz club and honked. He certainly didn’t want to block traffic waiting for his soon-to-be ex-wife.

  Supported by a good-looking man with graying temples, Ivy waddled out. When he saw her very pregnant belly, Parker gasped. They hadn’t seen each other in person since he’d demanded a divorce. For the most part, he let the lawyers handle the details with only an occasional phone call between him and Ivy.

  After Parker opened the passenger door, the man helped Ivy climb into the seat. She fluttered her lashes at the stranger and thanked him. He nodded an acknowledgement at Parker before returning inside the bar.

  His insides on fire, Parker checked for a break in traffic then hit the accelerator. “Who was that?” The jealous snip to his voice surprised him. Old habits died hard. Years of suspicions that she was cheating had been confirmed about nine months ago.

  “He owns Jazzy’s. I had an audition today, but the manager doesn’t want me because I’m pregnant.” Her gaze fell to her stomach and her voice sounded sad. “Said once I have the baby, I’ll be unreliable.”

  Sighing, Parker focused on finding the highway back to Indiana. He still couldn’t believe that he’d driven all the way over here to rescue his ungrateful ex. But she’d sounded desperate on the phone and he never could ignore a woman in need. “Tell me again how you got stranded over here.”

  “After the audition, I was tired and it was hard for me to walk. Rick said he’d get his pick-up, but then he called my cell and said he wasn’t coming back.”

  “What a----jerk.” He barely stopped himself from cussing, which was harder and harder to control these days.

  “He said since we didn’t get the gig, he’s taking a construction job down south and once he gets some money saved up, he’ll send child support. Yeah, right.” Her voice cracked. “Screw him. This baby is better off without him.”

  Shaking his head, he wasn’t surprised. Artsy-fartsy types weren’t exactly known for being dependable. But she’d made her bed and she would have to lie in it. “Well, you’re going to have to figure out some sort of steady income.”

  “I thought the house was paid off so all I needed to worry about was food.”

  He rolled his eyes at her cluelessness about budgeting and the realities of money. “There’s no mortgage, but the maintenance costs are going to be your responsibility once we sign the divorce papers—the housekeeper, utilities, insurance, repairs.” For her entire adult life, she’d let him handle everything. “The money you make singing on weekends at the Blue Note won’t be enough to feed you, let alone keep up the house.”

  “That’s why I auditioned today. Chicago pays better and has an amazing music scene.”

  Had she crunched the numbers at all? Did she have any idea how much their property taxes cost? “But you didn’t get the job.”

  “Not yet. But I got to chatting with the owner while I was waiting for you. He’s the one who walked me out. I figure if he likes me, it doesn’t matter what the bitchy manager wants.”

  Typical Ivy. “So the manager’s a woman.” It all made sense now. But could Ivy still hypnotize men while she was clearly pregnant with another man’s baby? “What did the owner say?”

  “Like I said, we just talked. I have enough business sense to be subtle. I expect to get a call within twenty-four hours from the manager who will've had a change of heart.”

  For her sake, Parker hoped so. “But what will you do once you have the baby?”

  Rubbing her stomach in slow circles, she bit her lip. “I don’t know. Rick’s sister was going to babysit, but now that he’s flaked out on me. . . . He said he isn’t ready to be a father.”

  His fingernails dug into the steering wheel. When they’d been married, he’d suggested they start a family, but Ivy wouldn’t even consider it. And now. . . now it was too late.

  A tear trickled down her cheek and she carefully dabbed it so it didn’t smear her mascara. “Maybe I’m not ready to be a mother, but that’s life. I can’t believe he abandoned me when I’m about to give birth to his kid!”

  Parker resisted the urge to comfort her. He merged onto the Skyway and headed back home. OK. Not home. Back to what used to be his home and was now Ivy’s.

  They rode in silence while he maneuvered through the heavy traffic, stopping periodically to pay tolls. He smiled as he finally passed the “Welcome to Indiana” sign. He’d be rid of Ivy soon.

  “What kind of person does that?” she asked. “Leaves his pregnant girlfriend standing on a street corner in Chicago?”

  “I never did understand what you saw in him.”

  “To tell you the truth, neither do I. I think I was lonely because you worked so much and you never showed any interest in my music.”

  His shoulders clenched. “Don’t blame your bad choices on me. If you were unhappy, you should’ve talked to me.”

  “I tried, but you wouldn’t listen.”

  “Try harder then. You don’t sleep with another man in my bed. That’s not how you fix a marriage.” The memory of that muscular twenty-something naked next to his wife made him tremble with rage. That’s why he’d gladly moved out of their house on the lake.

  It was her turn to sigh. She gazed
out the passenger’s side window. “Whatever.”

  “Yeah. Whatever.” He took a deep breath and tried to get back on track. “What it comes down to is that you might have to quit singing and get a real job.”

  Her lip curled. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

  “No. I don’t care anymore. That’s why I’m divorcing you. I no longer want your drama to rule my life.”

  “I’m hoping to buy a place in Chicago once I get this gig.”

  “And sell the house on Lake Michigan?”

  “No. I’d like to keep that as a vacation home.”

  He shook his head. “You need to realize that your lifestyle is going to drastically change. Indiana is a no alimony state. Pretty soon I won’t be supporting you anymore.”

  “You keep telling me that.” Her hand pressed on her abdomen.

  “But you don’t listen. You need to wake up and smell the coffee.”

  “Well, you need to tell people you moved out. I’m tired of getting calls and mail for you.”

  “Calls from whom?” Everyone at Mall Land corporate offices knew to contact him on his cell.

  “Oh, I don’t remember.” She gazed out the side window at the passing traffic. “I got a really strange one the other day. Someone from the Peace Corps called.”

  His throat grew dry. “What did they say? What did you say?”

  “Nothing. They left a message on the machine and I deleted it. They probably wanted a donation or something.”

  No, that wasn’t it. He’d nearly forgotten about the volunteer application he’d filled out almost a year ago. Before his diagnosis.

  “Once you donate to one charity,” she continued, “then all of the others start calling. I told you that you give away too much money.” A whimper came from her lips. Her palm pushed against her side.

  Perhaps the pain was punishment for her selfish heart, he thought. “Do you remember the name of the caller?”

  “Stop it.”

  He would not let it go. This was important. Volunteering for the Peace Corps had been niggling in the back of his mind for years. One more thing Ivy had prevented him from doing. “Is it possible you still have the phone number?”