Home to Whiskey Creek (Whiskey Creek #4)(76)
Author: Brenda Novak

“Someone was skulking around,” Noah said. “You!”

“But not because I mean her any harm. If you’re thinking I’m the one who dragged her to the mine, you’re wrong. She’s a beautiful woman and…and…”

“You’re married,” he stated flatly.

“Right, but—” his mind finally latched on to something that might be believable “—Audrey and I haven’t been getting along. We had an argument a few minutes ago—”

“In the middle of the night?”

Determined to convince him, he rushed to explain. “That’s right. I couldn’t sleep, so I woke her up for a little…you know what, and she wasn’t too happy about it. That brought up a whole bunch of other complaints. So, after I’d had enough of her bitching, I stormed out. But I didn’t have anywhere to go. So…I thought I’d drive by and see if anything strange was happening at the Davies’ house.”

Noah’s expression remained skeptical, but he didn’t say anything.

“I didn’t expect to see your truck,” Kevin continued. “You two aren’t dating, are you?” He’d known they were seeing each other, of course. He’d been making Addy’s business his business. But he’d been telling himself not to worry. Noah never lasted long in a relationship.

With a scowl, Cody’s brother shoved his hands in his pockets. “She’s scared of you. Why?”

“She’s not scared of me! She would have no reason to be.”

“I saw how she reacted to you at the coffee shop. And Ted mentioned that you were with her at the restaurant one night. That there was an argument.”

“Not really. She didn’t want to seat me at closing time, that’s all.”

Resting his forearms on top of the car, Noah leaned in, all but glaring at him.

“What?” Kevin snapped.

“If anything happens to her—if she gets hurt again—I’m coming to you for answers. Do you understand?”

Kevin sat where he was for several minutes after Noah drove away. What the hell was going on? Obviously, Noah was sleeping with the girl he and his friends had raped. Noah didn’t know it, or he would’ve had very different words at finding Kevin outside her house. But…how long before Adelaide came clean?

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, and punched the gas pedal. Things weren’t going the way he’d hoped, but if his wife noticed he was gone, they’d get even worse.

* * *

I feel something for you. That’s got to make a difference.

Addy wished it could. She’d never wanted anything more. But she was keeping too many secrets. Those secrets would tear them apart eventually—which reminded her that she needed to drive by Stephen’s place to get a good look at his truck.

Going out into the dark and cold didn’t sound appealing, but this was the first chance she’d had since Friday. It wasn’t as if she’d be able to sleep. Not after the way Noah had left.

She pulled on some thick, warm sweats, a beanie to cover her ears and a pair of tennis shoes. Then she slipped out through her bedroom door and put the transmission of her 4-Runner in neutral so she could coast farther away from the house before starting the engine. Gran could sleep through anything, but she had her mother to worry about. She definitely didn’t want to explain to Helen why she was sneaking out of the house. Her mother would, no doubt, make a big deal of it: Aha! See? You’re not so different from me.

Fortunately, her engine started right away. Considering how rough it had been running, she was hesitant to drive it, but she didn’t think this errand would take long.

She turned up the radio to distract herself while she drove. When Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” began to play, she quickly changed the station.

Stephen’s house came up on her right. Like before, it was dark, but chances were good that Stephen would be home and in bed. It was Sunday night; most people had to work on Monday.

This time the garage door was down. She guessed—hoped—she’d find his truck inside.

Careful not to veer into the ditch that ran parallel to the road, she parked some distance away and shut off her headlights. Then she sat there, staring at herself in the rearview mirror.

You can do this. Just run back, open the side door and take a peek.

But Stephen frightened her more than the rest of them. She’d never forget the expression on his face when they stripped off her jeans.

You’re here now. Do it.

Taking a calming breath, she slipped her phone in her pocket, found the flashlight she’d used when she was pretending to trick-or-treat and began to trudge to his place.

There weren’t any streetlights this far from town, so she was forced to turn on her flashlight before she really wanted to. She stopped walking as she did and listened.

She heard nothing except a few crickets and the hum of electricity passing through the transmission lines overhead. The house next to Stephen’s had the porch light on but was otherwise dark. She seemed to be out here all alone.

Make it fast and get it over with.

She jogged to the edge of Stephen’s property, where she stopped again to listen.

Nothing. Thank God. She was grateful that she could see the side door she planned to use. Most homes had fenced backyards, which would have limited her access, but Stephen’s had no improvements, no landscaping. He lived on a big piece of raw land.

Was he the one who’d slit open her screen door and threatened her with Aaron’s knife?

Maybe she was about to find out….

Since she didn’t have to approach the house from the front, she cut across the property at an angle. She was feeling braver now, more confident. There were no windows on this side of the house, or none that had any view of her. And he wouldn’t be expecting company.

The main door wasn’t shut all the way, but she had trouble getting it open far enough to fit through. There was too much junk behind it.

Stephen’s white Chevy was there, all right. She just couldn’t see the front of it. So she shoved the door, hoping it would give.

Something scraped and fell against the wall, but it didn’t make much sound and the door swung free.

Two more seconds and she’d be gone….

Stepping carefully to avoid tools, boxes and baskets of random articles, she went inside and around his vehicle. Then she crouched near his washer and dryer, raised her flashlight—and blinked in surprise. There was no damage.

“What the…” She lifted a hand to feel the smooth metal body. Not so much as a dent or a scratch marred the paint or the bumper. How could that be?