Page 27 of All In Good Time
“She’s supposed to be gone until next week.” Becca looked ahead as they approached her house. In the driveway was a car, black and unfamiliar. She frowned, an unsteady pitch settled in the pit of her stomach. The closer they got, the worse she felt, until she couldn’t handle it anymore. “Wait, slow down. Stop here.”
“What’s wrong?” Marty asked but did as he was told. He pulled his car to the curb a few houses down from hers, far enough away to be subtle.
She slipped Derek’s head off of her lap and opened her door.
“Whoa. Wait a minute, where are you going?” Marty turned in his seat to watch her get out of the car.
“I need to check something. Just stay here until I’m back, okay?”
She shut the door against Marty’s protests, but he stayed inside the car, even turning it off to wait for her.
She wrapped her arms around herself and walked toward the house. It took her a minute to get there, and she studied the black car as she approached. Now that she was closer, she realized shehadseen it before. Several times, in fact, parked in front of the Stokes’ home right by Derek’s.
Ice filled her veins, and her feet stopped moving.
She could turn and run now. Maybe if she was quick enough, he wouldn’t even know she was there. Then again, if he did come around and saw her running way, it could make things worse.
Becca took a deep breath, trying to calm the terror in her chest and the stiffness of her shoulders. Forcing her body to relax, she walked around the car and to the walkway that led to the front door.
Mark Stokes stood on the front porch. He didn’t hear her approach. He had his hands cupped around his eyes and was looking in through the front window in search ofsomething.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and exhaled. “Mr. Stokes?”
If there was any true struggle, it was trying to keep her face straight and relaxed when facing someone like Mark Stokes.
He turned around, dropping his hands and running them over the bottom of his jacket. When he saw her standing there, the hard set of his brow relaxed into a purposeful, calm expression.
“Good morning, Rebecca.” His voice was nonchalant, unbothered that he had just been caught snooping around her house before dawn. The upward turn of his lips fell short of his eyes. It had been a long time since his greetings and grins lost their fake sincerity on her. He still pretended though.
She nodded, and carefully stepped up the stairs to stand in front of him. “Can I help you?”
“I figured you might be the best person to come to for answers.”
“What about?” She gave him a polite smile, hoping it was more convincing than his. At her sides, she consciously held her hands still, even though she wanted to wring them together.
He slipped his own hands into his pockets and took a step closer. Becca bit her tongue and resisted the urge to flinch away.
“Derek hasn’t been home for a few days, maybe you know where he could be?” He didn’t sound worried that his son was missing. Instead, he sounded accusing.
Becca frowned, knitting her brow in faux confusion. “I haven’t seen him in a while. I thought he was at home.”
Several seconds passed, with Mark watching her carefully. She knew he didn’t believe her. Not with the minuscule lift in the right corner of his lips. But she had to keep her cool, because if he did try and dig around, he might find Derek in the back seat of a car three houses down. She didn’t want to think about it.
“Huh.”
“Is there anything else you need?” She kept her voice sweet, rushed to get him off her porch and as far away from Derek as she could. He paused for a moment, clearly thinking long about her offer.
She waited for him to say no and to leave, but instead he motioned toward the front door. “You know, I could use a cup of coffee, if you don’t mind.”
The taste of metal bloomed in her mouth as she bit down too hard on the inside of her bottom lip.
“I’m sorry, now is not a good time.” Becca smiled politely, then pulled the house key from her jacket pocket and unlocked the front door.
Mark Stokes’s presence behind her sent alarm bells ringing in every survival instinct she had. Her hair stood on end, her ears rang, her muscles tensed.
But she ignored them, keeping her cool as she opened the door and rushed aside. As she closed the door, something stopped it.
Mark’s fingers grasped the edge, preventing it from shutting.
