One More Day Page 3

HAVENSBROOKE

Ridley walked past towering houses with lush manicured lawns. Raina had been trying to convince her to move back to Virginia for ages and had claimed her new neighborhood was the perfect place for Ridley to launch her landscape design business now that she was done with school. As she turned onto her sister’s street, she gasped at the first sight of the house.

As girls, they’d always talked about what kind of houses they’d buy when they were rich and famous. It looked like her sister had managed to find a house that fit both their childhood dreams to perfection, a stately three-story red brick with wide Palladian windows along the front.

“You really did it, Ray.”

It made her sad that she hadn’t been here when her sister moved in. They’d always been there for each other during major milestones like this. Until recently.

Until David.

She knocked on the door and then rang the doorbell. It was completely quiet in the house. Raina had told her there were two security panels, but to use the one on the back so she could get the spare key. As she climbed the stairs to the back deck, she peered through the back window into the kitchen. There was a long, oak farmers table covered with a cheerful, red gingham tablecloth. It looked cozy and inviting.

She walked over to the deck chair farthest from the door and squeezed the edges of its cushion until she felt a hard lump.

“Gotcha.”

She unzipped the side of the cushion and rooted around until her fingers closed around the key. The alarm panel was mounted on the side of the door. She dropped her backpack on the deck and then punched in the security code. Three red lights flashed.

Access Denied.

“Okay. Let me try that again.” She wiped her hand on the leg of her jeans and carefully typed the numbers in again.

Access Denied.

“Crap. I know I’m typing this right.” She tugged her phone from her pocket and pulled up the email from her sister. It was possible she’d forgotten something. It had been a few months since she’d gotten the email.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

From: Raina Winters ([email protected])

To: Ridley Wells ([email protected])

Subject: Just in case

- - - - - -

Here’s my address:

1616 Crescent Drive

New Haven, Virginia 23665.

The security code is our birthday

(4 digits, the month and day).

You are always welcome.

xRaina

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The message had been pretty straightforward, so Raina must have forgotten to tell her one of the steps. Her sister hadn’t responded to any of her text messages and calls since she’d left two days ago.

Probably still mad at me, she reasoned. Not that she could blame her. Their last argument had been one for the record books.

“I guess I’m on my own.”

She let out a breath and pulled out her cell phone again. It was getting close to lunch time. It was already pretty humid and she wasn’t even in direct sunlight. Her shirt clung to the damp skin between her breasts. She couldn’t wait to take a shower.

As soon as she figured out how to get in the house.

Maybe she was supposed to hit the Enter button or something afterward. She walked back to the security panel and typed the code followed by Enter.

Access Denied.

“Great.”

A door slammed next door and she shrank back out of sight as an older man came out on his back deck and walked around the yard. He looked over her way but didn’t seem to notice her. After a few minutes, he went back in his house.

“How do I always get myself into these situations?”

This was the kind of neighborhood where everyone looked like they belonged in a golf advertisement. Her rumpled tee shirt and well-worn jeans made her look like a reject from one of those Survivor-style reality programs. With her luck, her sister’s neighbors would call the police if she hung out too long, and she’d had enough of dealing with the police to last her a lifetime.

She looked back at the yard. The house directly behind was just as imposing but made of a beige brick. There was a wide patio on the back and a gorgeous little gazebo. Their yards were separated by a small creek.

Water.

The grass was spongy beneath her feet as she crossed the lawn. Half-convinced she was imagining the sight like a delirious desert traveler; she dropped to her knees and cupped her hands in the cool, clear water.

Multicolored fish darted beneath her hands as she scooped up handful after handful and rinsed her face. She’d been traveling with single-minded determination and hadn’t made many stops. A proper shower was going to feel like nirvana. Water dribbled down her chin and across the front of her shirt but she didn’t even care. Nothing had ever felt so good.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

She whipped around. Two little boys watched her curiously from a few feet away.

“My daddy said we’re having a cookout. That means I get hot dogs!” The older of the two boys spoke hurriedly, all his words running together in one large breath. The smaller boy just stood watching, his thumb bobbing up and down in his mouth as he sucked on it.

The oldest boy took a tentative step forward. He reached into his pocket and produced a ragged napkin, which he offered her with a hesitant smile.

She took it and used it to wipe the water from her face. “Thanks. A cookout sounds like fun. What’s your name?”

“It’s me. Chris.” He frowned. “Are you okay?”