Where One Road Leads (3 page)

“The mill,” he ground out. “She’s leasing the mill.”

Dean blinked. “What?”

Matt glared at his friend. “The mill,” he repeated angrily. “The company that approached me to lease it wants to turn it into a youth center. Complete with a dance studio, teen center and daycare. Damn it, Dean, she’s coming back to stay.”

Krista opened all the windows in the corner office that soon would be her home for at least eight hours a day, five days a week. The smell of paint overwhelming her senses, she longed for the crisp scent of New Hampshire in October. Indian summer had settled in and the temperature had to be about seventy-five degrees.

Her laptop sat alone on the old battered desk she’d bought at the used office furniture store one town over. The chair wasn’t much either. A leftover from the previous mill tenants, the fabric had worn thin and she could’ve sworn it tipped to one side, but she’d rather cut corners on her office if it meant adding to the amenities of the center. A new chair could wait for now. Her own office would be the last thing renovated.

Looking around the room, the cream paint on the walls, the dark woodwork and hardwood floor, she realized there wasn’t much she’d do to change it. She liked the old-fashioned atmosphere. Maybe a plant or two and a couple prints on the wall. And a new chair that didn’t lean.

No, definitely better to get the rest of the center renovated first. If things went as planned they’d be set to open a few weeks before Thanksgiving.

She’d found a woman who would run the daycare, and a dance instructor. The other positions would be filled as the opening came closer. Until then there would be a thousand and one details to get squared away. Such a difference from her normal schedule. She’d never been in her office at the newspaper for more than two days in a row, and only if she had to be. Now it would be a daily thing.

A stack of papers on her desk needed her attention, as well as some other organizing that couldn’t be done from the house. She’d finally decided she could no longer avoid coming to the mill. People like Matt knew she was back in town anyway. What else did she have to worry about?

The booming voice and the slam of the door against the wall sent her heart pounding in a frenzy of beats against her chest.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

Looking madder than hell, Matt’s hands clenched into tight fists that were paper white against the navy blue of his uniform. In contrast his cheeks were florid. The other day he’d been annoyed. Now he was ready to exchange some words.

Krista forced herself to look away from him. She’d been waiting for this. Relieved the moment had finally arrived, she’d be damned if he’d get the satisfaction of knowing he rattled her.

“I’m setting up my office,” she replied dryly. Well, she didn’t intend to make it easy for him. Over the past years she’d found a talent for tucking away her nerves and showing a calm, cool façade.

“Don’t get cute with me, Krista,” he growled. He shut the door and stalked toward the desk.

Krista held on to her temper. “Cute is not in my vocabulary. This is my office. I’m running this youth center. Of course you know that, otherwise you wouldn’t be here, now would you?”

Matt paused in front of her. She didn’t glance at him, but kept him within her vision. She busied herself with opening an envelope, praying that her hands weren’t shaking.

He moved past her, pacing to the window, his step quick and agitated. “This isn’t right. If I’d known you were—”

“Which is why I didn’t come to you or your father with this.”

“This has to be illegal. There must be a way to get out of it.”

It seemed Matt talked more to himself than to her so she didn’t reply. Looking up from the papers on the desk, she took the opportunity to study him.

He didn’t resemble Jay at all. Jay had been tall and lanky, with dark shaggy hair and stunning blue eyes. He’d been a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy, the one who’d refused to go to senior prom because he wouldn’t wear a tux. He’d been wild and so full of life.

Matt’s energy was more bound up inside him. She could see it, bristling from him like it wanted to burst free but he wouldn’t let it. His fists were still in tight balls at his sides as he stared out the window. A good three inches shorter than Jay, Matt’s build was far more muscular and he filled out his uniform very well. If he’d been any other man, Krista would be attracted to him. Men in uniform hadn’t much been her thing. A man like Matt, though, could definitely persuade her otherwise.

Matt was the last man she wanted to be attracted to. They were little more than enemies. No,
he
thought of her as an enemy and worked on ways to eliminate her from his life.

“I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do,” Krista commented blandly. “The company leasing this building is quite legitimate, as is the lease we signed.” She finally looked directly into his eyes, setting the steel in her stare so he knew she wouldn’t back down. “You don’t have to like me, Matt, but what I’m doing here is good. Even you can’t deny that.”

Matt paused and glared at her, animosity hard in his hazel eyes. She didn’t shrink from the glare. She met it steadily, her chin up and with defiance.

“You think this is going to make everything better? That it’ll excuse what happened to my brother and Liz?”

Krista drew air deeply into her lungs and expelled it slowly.

“I can’t change the past. If I could, believe me, Matt, I would in a heartbeat. Maybe then I wouldn’t have spent two years of my life in prison and I’d have my best friend back and maybe Jay and I would be married, and our—” She stopped abruptly. No, she didn’t want Matt to know about the baby she’d lost. “I don’t expect to become the hometown hero by opening this center, but if I could make things better, more enjoyable for other people, everyone wins. This is not about me or making everything in the past go away so I can feel good about myself. I’ll have to live with that night for the
rest
of my life, no matter what will come down the line.”

There wasn’t one hint of sympathy in Matt’s hard eyes. He lifted his chin and stared at her coldly. “Then you agree you were at fault that night?”

Krista stood, anger charging in a hot rush through her body. She was battered, both physically and emotionally. She wanted to put it behind her, but Matt wouldn’t let her.

“I had my share of the blame, Matt. By letting my temper get the better of me and by hitting the brakes. But I won’t take the blame for what led up to that moment. I told my story fifteen years ago. The truth. It’s not going to change for anyone. Is there anything else that you want?”

“You gave up
two years
of your life. Jay
has
no life. You have a few scars. I saw what Jay looked like that night.
I
was the first officer on the scene.”

She didn’t reply right away. He stared hard at her and she returned it defiantly. The atmosphere in the room weighed cold and heavy. She could see the pain behind the anger in Matt’s eyes. How could she ever explain to him that she’d felt the same emotions? That she’d gone through as much anguish as he had?

“Not all my scars came from that accident.” Krista pointed to a long, thick line that traveled the length of her jaw. “This came from a prisoner who decided she wanted a book I was reading and didn’t like it when I told her she couldn’t have it.”

She lifted her hair to reveal another scar along the back of her neck. “Another prisoner just didn’t like me. No particular reason. You might not like me here, and you might not think I’ve paid enough for what happened, but don’t be expecting me to beg for your forgiveness again.”

She sat back at the desk, crossed her arms tightly against her chest, and eyed him frankly, quite prepared to withstand whatever words he had to deliver. She would’ve stood in a show of strength if she could have. Her legs shook and she refused to give him any indication he’d damaged her confidence. And she prayed this would be the last of her encounters with Matt. She never thought he would wear her out the way he had.

“If there’s anything else I can do for you, please let’s get it over with, otherwise I have lots to do today.”

For a long moment the only sound in the room was Matt breathing as they stared at each other, and the thump of her heartbeat against her chest. Maybe he was thinking of new and different hateful things to say to her. Finally, he turned around and without another word exited her office, closing the door behind him.

At least you didn’t cry
, she thought dully and stared at the door. A dark cloud hung in the air now. She blew out a breath and pushed away from the desk. She wasn’t going to get any more done here for now. Besides, since she had to face the past with Matt, she might as well leap one more hurdle.

Grabbing her keys, she left the building and went for her Jeep. She shoved Matt into the back of her mind in favor of another person who’d been devastated by that night.

Chapter 3

Even after so many years, Krista knew the road to Liz’s parents’ house like the back of her hand. Once a dirt road, she and Liz used to joke about how far out in the boondocks she lived. The road had been paved at some point throughout the years, but it was still narrow and wound endlessly through the woods. A dozen new houses had cropped up in her absence. She’d made sure Liz’s parents still lived there before returning to New Hampshire.

She remembered the last time she’d driven this road. It had been to pick Liz up so they could go fetch their boyfriends from a party at a lakefront cottage near the town line. There had been no indication of the trouble ahead. Instead, they sang to the radio, enjoying their freedom. They’d done so much laughing back then. Krista smiled despite the sadness.

“Oh Liz, I wish you were here right now, telling me I’m doing the right thing,” she whispered. “Assuring me your parents aren’t going to treat me like Matt did. I loved them so much.”

There was no reply, just the sound of the air coming in through the open window.

She didn’t want to think about how Liz’s parents would react to seeing her. The last time had been in court and they’d barely said anything to her, too caught up in their own grief. Ricky had been with them, playing the dutiful boyfriend, there to comfort them and mourn with them. She’d been denied that right. Perhaps Ricky had tainted their minds toward her as well, and she’d face the same hostilities Matt flung at her.

Krista reached to the console, not taking her eyes off the road, and felt around for her cigarettes. They weren’t there. Just as well. They were becoming a crutch and she didn’t want to rely on them.

The Frechettes’ house was as well-kept as ever. Liz’s mom had been an avid gardener and her talents hadn’t waned over the years. Though the flowering trees and bushes had lost their vibrant colors, the yard was neat as a pin. Not so much as one autumn leaf marred the green lawn that stretched from the front steps down to the road. The only thing that seemed out of place was the rusted frame of a swing set in the side yard.

Krista smiled despite her raw nerves. She and Liz had swung so high on that set that Mrs. Frechette had been afraid they’d go over the top. The swings were long gone, as was the slide. She wondered why they kept the skeletal remains there. Maybe as a reminder of their lost child.

Krista pulled up behind an older model sedan and cut the engine. Her heart began to pound as she stared at the steering wheel, not ready to get out yet, not until her heartbeat returned to normal. For a long moment, she contemplated restarting the Jeep, turning around, and heading back to her house. She’d come without an invitation, and dropping in unexpectedly, especially under the circumstances, might not be the best idea.

She’d never had any kind of closure with these people, never had any contact with them after the accident. She’d figured they were probably in Ricky’s court. He’d been a very persuasive boy. With the unbiased and possibly unintentional help of the driver of the other vehicle, Ricky had been able to convince everyone who mattered—except her own mother—that she’d been driving like a maniac that night. That it had been solely her fault and not the fault of two drunken boys brawling between the front and back seats.

Krista didn’t know if the Frechettes ever believed her side of the story.

She glanced away from the steering wheel and out the window. Patricia Frechette stood next to the side of the house, a rake in her hand. She stared hard at Krista. It was too late to leave now. Swallowing back on the fear that rose bitterly in her throat, Krista got out of the Jeep and walked slowly toward Liz’s mother, pulling the ball cap off her head to give her fingers something to fidget with.

Mrs. Frechette stood statue still, her mouth slack. Her stare remained pinned on Krista. It didn’t give anything away.

It appeared Liz’s mother hadn’t gotten the word that Krista was back in town.

“Mrs. Frechette. I’m sorry I didn’t call first.”

Patricia dropped her rake but didn’t reply. Her mouth shut tight, her lips drawn into a thin line.

“I thought maybe we could talk,” Krista continued, hoping the woman would say something, anything to indicate whether her visit was welcome or not. “So I could tell you, finally, how sorry I am. I know I should’ve said it earlier, like fifteen years ago. I didn’t have the courage.”

Krista stopped a few yards away from Mrs. Frechette and drew in a deep breath.

A tear hovered on the edge of the other woman’s eyes and her chin had begun to tremble.

“I’ll leave if you don’t want me here. I’ll understand.” She took one step backward.

“Please don’t,” Mrs. Frechette replied, her voice a shaky whisper.

In a moment, Liz’s mother had Krista in her arms, her slight frame shuddering hard. They stood like that for several minutes, relief coursing through Krista’s body as she let the strain of fifteen years drain from her.

When Mrs. Frechette finally let her go, she wiped her eyes on her sleeve and looked closely at Krista. She reached out and touched one of the scars on her face.

“Oh honey, I’m glad you’ve come home.”

Krista gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Not everyone feels that way and I didn’t know how you’d feel.”

“Come on inside. I’ll fix us some coffee or anything you’d like.”

The Frechettes’ house had gone through a major transformation. Nothing of the old days remained. The white walls were clean and neat and cold. Even the furniture seemed harsh. The only thing that made it familiar were the family portraits. Krista stopped to study them. Such a happy family. Or had once been. Liz figured prominently in the display, her life mapped out from babyhood right up to a picture taken before prom, just a week before her death. Krista didn’t think she could cry any more tears, but they streamed down her face.

She wiped them away so she could see the photo of Liz in her prom gown, standing between her parents. Both Jay and Ricky had refused to go to the prom because of the dress code, so Krista and Liz had gone together and had a blast. Krista touched the glass, tracing Liz’s cheek. Krista hadn’t realized how much mother and daughter resembled each other. They looked so happy, so full of life. Of course on that night they both thought Liz had a future.

“I wish I could go back to that night,” she told Mrs. Frechette, who stood in the doorway with two steaming mugs of coffee. “It was the best night I can remember.”

Mrs. Frechette didn’t respond.

Krista’s gaze slipped over the other pictures, images of Liz’s brothers, Ryan and Adam; her little sister, Tracy.

“How are they doing?” she asked, pointing to the photo of the three.

“Fine. Come on, sit down and I’ll fill you in. Let’s see, Adam is still in town, on the fire department and working over at Hydro-Tech. Ryan is in the service. He’s in Afghanistan right now. It’s a worry, but we’re proud of him. Tracy is living in Nashua. She’s married and had her first baby last January. She’s a travel agent.”

Krista took a seat at the dining room table across from Mrs. Frechette. She cupped the blue ceramic mug in her hands, taking comfort in the warmth and the scent of coffee that rose into the air.

“I bet Tracy is a great mom,” she said. She didn’t know what else to say, but she knew Mrs. Frechette was waiting.

“I’m back in Quail Ridge for a while,” she started. “I’m opening a youth center in Burgess Mill. I’d like to dedicate it to Liz and Jay, to their memory. It’s not much in trying to make up for their loss. I could never do that. I thought it would be a start, though.”

Mrs. Frechette reached out and put her hand on Krista’s arm. “I never blamed you, Krista. I know it may be too late for me to say that, but it’s true. Deep down I knew what Ricky said, what other people believed, wasn’t the whole truth. You made a mistake anyone could’ve made. I always felt there had to be more to it.”

Krista released a pent-up breath and smiled. “It’s not too late at all. Thank you for saying it.”

“No, I should’ve made it known long ago. You were like a daughter to me, Krista.
Are
like a daughter. After the accident, I lost two children, not just Liz. There are going to be lots of people here who won’t be too happy to see you and will make their opinions known.”

“I’ve already had a few run-ins with Matt Burgess.” She gave a short laugh. “I’m sure he’d love nothing more than to see me head right back from where I came from.”

“There’s also Liz’s dad.”

That bit of information socked Krista in the belly like a hundred-pound sledgehammer. She blinked and tried to recover. John Frechette had been like a member of her family as well, a warm bear of a man who took her and Liz to get ice cream and then play at the playground by the school. He taught both girls how to fish and took them out hiking. He’d instilled in Krista the love of the outdoors she had now. He had even given her the first camera she’d ever owned, when she was eleven. If it hadn’t been for him she probably wouldn’t have taken up a career as a photojournalist.

After her own father had passed away when she was thirteen, John Frechette had become the father figure in her life.

And he hated her now.

“Maybe I should leave.” Suddenly Krista felt very uncomfortable being within these walls. “The last thing I want is for you to get into trouble by having me here.”

Mrs. Frechette waved her hand. “This is my house too,” she replied sternly. “Anyway, he’s not due home for a few hours. You just settle down. We’ll finish our coffee and you’ll tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself. I’ll tell you what I’ve been doing and we’ll have a good cry if need be.”

So they did just that. Three cups of strong black coffee later, they were hugging goodbye with the promise they’d meet for lunch and talk about the office assistant’s position Krista needed to fill. She worried about what Mr. Frechette would think, but again her fears were waved away.

“It’s time I dealt with this. I could tuck it away before. Now I know how wrong I’ve been. Ricky had a tighter grip on John than I realized. He always claimed Liz was the love of his life.” Patricia shrugged, her lips tightly pursed for a moment. “Who knows, maybe it’s true. They were just kids, though. I think there was more to it than love. It’s really sad, but you know what they say, money talks. And Ricky’s father talks louder than anything.”

Ah yes, Krista thought grimly. Mr. Crowe. Big shot, man about town. A man not to be forgotten. Ricky hadn’t exactly shared a warm relationship with his parents. He didn’t want anything to do with the way his father rubbed elbows with the ‘right’ people. That was one of the reasons why Ricky was such an ass. Anything to tick off the parents; the more outrageous, the better.

When it came right down to it, however, he used his father’s connections. And that landed her in prison while he went off to console everyone for their loss. John Frechette bought into it, too.

She didn’t feel betrayed, just heartbroken.

“It’s the past.” Krista formed as much of a confident smile as she could muster. She wrapped her arms around Mrs. Frechette’s slight shoulders and hugged her tightly. “I’m not going to think about that.”

“I’ll be here by your side. I may have to come sleep on your sofa, but you’ll have me there to support you,” Liz’s mom said into her shoulder.

Krista knew she was joking about the sofa thing, yet when she drove away, leaving the older woman retrieving her rake and waving goodbye, she worried about the consequences of Mrs. Frechette’s move to back her up.

Matt had a hell of a time adjusting to Krista’s return to town. Didn’t help that over the past few weeks, it seemed everywhere he went he had to see her. Apparently since she’d been ‘outted,’ she had no reason to hide.

Once more she became the talk of the town and lines were being drawn. Sides were being taken. It ticked him off to know both his parents were not as upset as him. Speaking his mind about the whole thing wouldn’t get him anywhere. For the sake of peace, Krista wasn’t discussed in his presence.

It didn’t make her go away. Signs of her work started showing up all over town. He couldn’t walk down the street without seeing posters in store windows, proclaiming the transformation of Burgess Mill into the Quail Ridge Youth Center.

She certainly reached for the stars, he thought as he read the list of things the center would offer. Kids, from age zero right on up to teenagers, would benefit in some way. Quail Ridge was a small town, with a population teetering on two thousand people. It would be hard to keep such a place afloat. Fortunately the town bordered on enough larger towns that he had no doubt there’d be a strong influx of clients coming from those places.

If his personal opinion of her didn’t get in the way, he’d be impressed with what was taking place in the big brick building that dominated the downtown. If anyone else had been running it, he’d love to get involved in some way. But with Krista at the helm, he kept his distance, kept his walls high and fortified with contempt.

She was hard to ignore when he had to pass by the building several times a day.

“Unit seven, there’s a ten-forty-four at Thirteen Birch Road, the Faye residence,” the dispatcher said over the radio.

Matt grimaced and reached for his mic.

“Ten-four,” he replied through a clenched jaw and shook his head. Just what he damn well didn’t need.

Matt turned his cruiser around in the parking lot of the town’s pizza place and headed toward Krista’s house. He didn’t know what he’d find, but somehow this didn’t surprise him. Someone was bound to be up to mischief with her. It was a wonder it hadn’t happened before. Time to put his professional hat on, set the resentment behind him, and act like a cop.

When he arrived in her driveway five minutes later, Krista was standing outside her house, one hand holding tightly to her dog’s collar, the other gripping an aluminum baseball bat. She didn’t look scared in the least. In fact, she’d probably scared whoever skulked around the place instead of vice versa. Fierce and completely pissed off, Krista glowered at him, as if daring him to approach.

Seeing him probably didn’t help matters any. She’d have to deal with it. Matt grabbed his notepad and got out of the cruiser.

The other day her dog seemed sweet and dumb. He showed another side today. No canine grin now. Matt heard the deep, rumbling growl from the dog’s throat. It gave him a second of pause. As soon as she commanded the animal to sit, he did, looking only slightly less menacing. Matt wondered what the heck she needed a cop for. Gus could handle whatever troublemaker was bugging Krista if her baseball bat didn’t do the trick.