They’d made love in the seat of the riding lawn mower.
That had been before Caleb. Or maybe the day their son had been conceived.
Those five one-hundred dollar bills had been the first she’d earned as a fully licensed speech pathologist. They’d symbolized freedom and a new life to her. All the things Max had been telling her she had. She’d wanted to give them back—to them. She’d told him they’d put those exact bills away, hide them ceremoniously, and get them out on their thirtieth anniversary to spend on whatever they wanted.
The vow they’d made that day, even more than their wedding vows, had bound them to a lifetime together.
They’d vowed to be together thirty years from then. To spend the money together.
Trembling, she took the dollars and shoved them into her bra, the side opposite her untraceable cell phone. She wasn’t going to cry.
It would serve no purpose, and might call attention to her as she made her way back to the bus stop.
Back to The Lemonade Stand where, for now, her secrets were safe.
Closing her mind to voices from the past that would weaken her ability to take care of the task at hand, she closed the box and strode for the door. All that was left was leaving the tin box where Max would be sure to find it empty.
A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Something had moved in the yard.
Flattening herself against the wall of the shed, she moved toward the window, looking sideways and tilting forward only enough to see out.
Steve was back. She just knew it had to be him out there someplace.
She’d underestimated him. Again.
Without conscious effort her mind began cataloguing everything in the shed. Things she could throw. Things she could use as tools. Tools that could be used against her if Steve got his hands on them.
She was on her own property. He was there uninvited. It would be self-defense.
She had to know how much time she had...could she get out the door and to the other side of the tree trunk before he knew she was there? She had to get him away from this house. Away from Max and Caleb.
She wasn’t ready for the showdown. Was only just beginning to figure him out and didn’t yet know how best to use the information to get the better of him, other than some half-formulated idea of getting him to confess while she had her phone on so that someone else could hear the whole thing.
The plan, in its current state was too simplistic. Implementation didn’t stand a chance against Steve’s powerful mind. At the moment, a plan didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting him away from Max’s home.
She stole another glance out the window, formulating her next move.
It wasn’t Steve standing out there.
Shaking from the inside out, Jenna pulled back, pressing against the wall of the shed she’d helped Max build. He was in their driveway with another woman. The image of him and Chantel Harris played over and over in her mind.
She’d never met Chantel Harris, but she knew that the woman standing there with Max had to be her.
She’d seen pictures. Knew from Wayne Stanton that she’d been helping Max. And the cop uniform was a dead giveaway.
She just hadn’t realized the woman had been staying with her husband and son in their home.
But if that duffel bag slung over her shoulder was anything to go by, she had been. Jenna should have looked at the house before she’d come into the shed. She’d have seen the unfamiliar car parked in the driveway.
She wondered what had happened to her van. Did Max have it back? Parked next to his in its usual place in their garage?
She couldn’t leave. Her legs were too unsteady to carry her as quietly and quickly as she’d need to go.
And her heart wouldn’t bear the stress of a run. Not in that moment.
Her Max. With another woman.
Someone who’d had the hots for him. He’d told her how she’d come on to him the night he’d finished his residency. How she’d been there during the funeral. And how he’d left town, partially to get away from memories of Jill, and partially to avoid breaking Chantel’s heart.