The Secrets He Kept

License Notes

This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please consider purchasing your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters, events, and locations are fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and unintended.

Acknowledgements

I have to thank my mother, AKA my editor, for reading this over and telling me exactly what she thought. Also, for not hesitating to point out any little mistake she thought I’d made.

I also need to thank Inv. Lonnie J. Isom with the Pensacola Police Department in Pensacola, Florida. Though I ended up setting my story in a colder location up north, he provided me with some very valuable information that was vital to the story. He was always very kind and quick to respond to all my inquiries, and I appreciate all his help immensely.

I also need to thank all of my friends and family. When I published my first book, Tangled Deceit, they were all very enthusiastic and supportive. They would share my Facebook posts with their friends, and in some cases, brag about me to their bosses (thanks, Uncle Mark!). Their support and encouragement pushed me to keep moving forward no matter how frustrated I got. So, to my cousins, my aunts and uncles, my best friends from high school, and newer friends from recent years: thank you all! You have no idea how much your support has meant to me.

PROLOGUE

It was almost ten-thirty. Darkness pressed against the window of his office, and he decided that he would only wait fifteen more minutes. Then he’d leave and they’d just have to arrange another meeting.

He was about to grab his briefcase when he heard the elevator ding. Finally. He stood and waited. The dark haired man stepped slowly into the open doorway.

It’s about time, he said, waving for the man to come in. We need to wrap this up quickly. I’ve gotta get home to my family.

The dark haired man stepped inside and closed the door with a quiet click. He began to feel uneasy as the dark haired man still didn’t speak, and continued to move slowly into the room. The dark haired man settled into one of the visitor chairs on the other side of his desk. He slowly settled back into his own chair, the uneasiness growing.

We’ve got a problem, the dark haired man said. His voice was very deep, with a gravelly texture.

We do?

Well, you do.

He raised his eyebrows. I do?

I understand you have issues with our plans to expand?

He flexed his hands behind his briefcase.

Well, yes, I do.

Would you care to explain? the dark haired man asked, his voice silky as he touched the fingertips of both hands together in front of his lips.

He squirmed behind his desk.

Well...it’s kids. I just can’t do it.

I see. You have children, don’t you?

He squirmed even more. Yes, he whispered faintly.

And so you picture your children in this, and you develop a conscience. Understandable.

He stopped squirming. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe they would understand and either change their minds or cut him loose.

I’m glad. I was hoping you would understand, he said, relief infusing his voice. He began to relax back into his seat.

Oh, no. I didn’t say I understood. I just said it was understandable.

Instantly, his back stiffened and he felt tension throughout his body.

If you have issues with our expansion plans, then we have to find a resolution to the situation, wouldn’t you agree?

He nodded slowly, his mouth going dry as his palms began to sweat.

And I think there’s really only one resolution to this. Wouldn’t you agree again?

His heart started pounding, and he heard a clicking sound in his throat as he tried to swallow. His hands shook and his stomach clenched, threatening to come up out of his throat.

Wouldn’t you agree? the dark haired man asked again.

He shook his head mutely.

Oh, well, that’s a shame, the dark haired man said with a mocking frown and syrupy sadness in his voice. Because whether you agree or not, we’re going forward with our resolution to the problem.

He felt his bowels threaten to let go. Tears welled up, clogging his throat and blurring his vision.

Please don’t kill me. I don’t want you to kill me, he whispered, pleading.

Oh, I’m not going to kill you.

He closed his eyes, sweet relief quickly flooding through him.

Sarah? the dark haired man called out.

His gaze shot to the closed door as it began to open. She staggered into the room. Her long blond hair was a tangled, stringy mess, strands of it covering her face. Her face was thin, pale, with dark circles under her eyes and bruises on her cheeks. Her bottom lip was cut and swollen.

She was dressed in a dirty white mini skirt and a torn white tank top. The same clothes she’d been wearing when they grabbed her. Her thighs and calves were covered in bruises and lash marks, and angry red welts surrounded her ankles and her wrists.

Her blue eyes were almost coherent. They focused on him. He felt a stab of terror. He hadn’t done what they’d wanted him to do. He’d have to do it now. Maybe it would be enough to appease them.

The dark haired man pulled a gun out of an inside pocket of his suit jacket.

Before we finish things up, would you like one final fuck from her? the dark haired man asked silkily.

Sarah’s eyes shot to him, widening with fear. Then her eyes focused on the dark haired man.

But you said- she began in a soft, terror filled voice.

Shut up, the dark haired man ordered in a clipped voice.

The dark haired man glanced disdainfully at Sarah, then focused on him again.

Final fuck or not?

He shook his head.

All right, then.

He started to stand, ready to take the gun from the dark haired man and kill her. But instead the dark haired man turned to Sarah.

I told you I’d bring you to the man who kidnapped you. I promised you justice.

But - I, I thought you meant he’d be arrested.

Well, we could go that route, Sarah. But that requires an investigation, and a trial, and twelve people on a jury finding him guilty. That may not happen. But right here, right now, you can get your own justice. No one will ever know.

I won’t be arrested? Go to prison?

The dark haired man shook his head.

I promise you, Sarah, you will never see the inside of a prison. You will never be arrested.

The dark haired man held the gun out to the young girl. With shaking hands she reached out and took it. She held it in two hands and stepped closer to him. He began to shake his head.

No, no, please, no. I have kids. I have a wife. Please. Think of them, he begged her.

You didn’t care about me when you took me. You didn’t care about me when they raped me over and over. Fuck you, she whispered.

She stepped closer, and he stood up. He’d fight her for the gun. He wasn’t going to go without a fight. He wasn’t going to die at the hands of a girl who’d been stupid enough to believe every little lie he’d spoon fed her, and didn’t even have enough sense to not get in a vehicle with a stranger.

The dark haired man pulled out another gun.

Don’t bother. I’ll kill you anyway, the dark haired man said harshly.

He looked at the dark haired man for a long moment. He could fight her anyway. But the dark haired man would just kill him in the end anyway. The dark haired man would probably shoot him while he fought with her for the gun, and even if he didn’t, there was no way he could get the gun from her and turn it to shoot the dark haired man quickly enough. It was over. He was lost.

He gulped and sank back into the chair. She stepped up right next to him, and placed the gun against his head. The metal was cool against his hot skin. He closed his eyes and began to pray. He heard the soft, metallic click of the hammer being cocked. He could feel the tremble of her hands in the slight vibration of the barrel against his temple.

He didn’t even hear the bang of the gun.

––––––––

The late-October day was sunny and mild. Birds chirped merrily away in the trees, and puffy white clouds floated serenely overhead.

Meadow Hanson’s hands were ice cold, clenched in her lap. She stared down at the green grass, at the spot where it met cold, black earth. A pile of dirt dug up, covered with a green cloth out of deference to the grieving. But there was a spot left uncovered, and Meadow focused on it. It was easier than thinking about her future.

When the police had knocked on her door, and told her her husband was dead, she’d denied it. Lysander couldn’t be dead. He was at work, and she would just call him and he would tell the police he was fine. They explained to her again that he was dead, and explained that he’d been shot. Impossible, because the building that housed his business had several layers of security.

But he was. They’d given her his personal effects: his watch, his cell phone, other things. His wedding ring. She closed her eyes against the sadness and the pain, ignored the happy nature sounds around her, and ignored the voice of the minister as he continued on with the graveside service.

A short time later, she dug her fingers into the cold, moist, dark dirt at the side of the grave. Followed by her twin daughters and her son, she leaned forward and dropped the dirt onto the top of Sander’s casket. It landed with a hollow thud. Her children followed suit, another three hollow thuds. As she walked away, she looked at her hand, dirt under her nails, in the creases of her palm and knuckles. This was the last memory she would have of her husband, of her marriage. A memory of burying him. A memory of dirty hands.

Her last memory of him alive was an argument. They’d argued over money, as usual. Sander was so tightfisted with a dollar that it wasn’t even funny. He controlled all of their finances, and she had to all but beg for every dime she spent. He’d been angry that she wanted money to buy the kids some new school clothes. She didn’t understand what the big deal was. They had more than enough money. But Sander always wanted more, and wanted to keep what they did have.

She realized that she was now in charge of their finances. Her finances, she amended in her mind. It was her money now. Her money, her house, her kids, her life. She’d never have a chance to share another intimate moment with her husband. Every decision would be up to her from this point forward, no matter how big or small. But after so many years of Sander being in charge of everything, she had no idea how to do that. Though she’d fought to be included, fought to work with him to discipline the kids or pick her own new car, he’d never let her.

He’d never attend one of the kids school plays, or go on one of their field trips. He’d miss their graduations and their weddings. But would he have gone to those things even if he had lived? She had her doubts about that.

She went through the small reception after the funeral as if on autopilot. She moved around the living and dining rooms of her home, talking with people, thanking them for coming, smiling at memories they shared with her. But what she really wanted to do was hide in her room. She wanted to change out of the black sheath dress and matching heels, put on jeans and a t-shirt, put her hair in a ponytail and clean the house. Or go for a jog. Anything but stand here and listen to people rattle on and on about her husband.

Finally it was over. The house was silent. The kids were with her parents, who’d come in from out of state for the funeral. They’d never approved of her marrying Sander, but they were being very supportive of her and the kids. They’d taken the kids overnight to give Meadow a chance to grieve alone.

She stood with her back against the front door, staring around at her living room. It was time to start the rest of her life. Without her husband.

CHAPTER ONE

It was depressing, but she had to do it. Meadow took a deep breath and sat down at the desk in Lysander’s home office. She pulled her shoulder length blond hair into a loose ponytail in her hand as she considered where to begin. Finally, she let go of her hair and settled on the bottom left drawer. Paydirt.

All the financial information was here. His life insurance policy, the bank statements for their joint checking and savings accounts, credit card statements, bills. Everything neatly organized and labeled. She smiled. That was definitely Sander. Everything needed to be perfectly organized and easy to find.

She dealt with his life insurance first. The conversation with the agent was difficult, but she managed to get through it without crying. One thing done, only a million more to go, she thought.

She gathered the bank statements. The most recent one showed a large balance in both the savings and checking accounts. She knew there were some CDs and an IRA as well, but she’d look for those later. She knew that there was definitely enough money that she didn’t have to worry about it yet.

As she shuffled through the statements, she stopped and frowned. On one of them, there was a web address and a user name and password in Sander’s handwriting. She started to open his laptop before remembering that she didn’t know the password. She’d have to find someone who could get that for her, or at least get her access.

For now, she went down the hall and got her laptop, bringing it back to the office with her. She shoved Sander’s laptop off to one side and set hers up in the middle of the desk. Booting it up, she opened her browser window and typed in the web address. A bank’s website popped up. It wasn’t the bank where she and Sander had their accounts. She wondered if this had something to do with the business.

She typed in the user name and password. Her jaw dropped when the next screen came up. It showed the balance in the account. There was half a million dollars in this account! It had to be for the business. Her eyes went to the top of the screen, looking for the account holder’s name. It was Lysander Hanson. No business name, no business address. This had nothing to do with the business.

But it had nothing to do with her and Sander’s personal finances, either. She had no idea where this money had even come from, much less that it existed. The address Sander had used was a post office box on the far side of town. What had he been doing?

She shuffled through the pile of bank statements again, but didn’t find anything else out of the ordinary. Going through their household bills, everything was in order there, too. When she got to the credit card statements, she was shocked once again. There were thousands of dollars in charges that made no sense: hotels, jewelry stores, car rentals, the list went on and on. What the hell had Sander been doing?

She sat back in the tall leather chair, pulling her hair into a loose ponytail with her hand. She didn’t understand this. A bank account that she knew nothing about and credit card charges that made no sense. A ball of dread began to form in the middle of her stomach.

Sander had said he was traveling on business. But business trips would be covered by a company credit card. If he’d used their personal credit card, that meant they were personal trips. She sat forward again and found the calendar on his desk. Flipping through, the dates he’d told her he was traveling for business were the same dates that rental cars and hotels were charged to the cards. Some of the jewelry store visits and other charges also coincided with those dates.

She didn’t want to admit what she was clearly seeing. She turned and looked out the window. The leaves were just beginning to change, and they were waving gently in a slight breeze. The temperatures were cooling fast, more than just a nip of fall in the air. She’d sent the kids back to school today, knowing that getting back to their normal routine was really the best thing for them.

Her husband had cheated on her. The thought slammed into her even as she tried to concentrate on the leaves, the weather, the kids. Her husband had been unfaithful. He’d slept with other women. All the different ways to say it rolled through her mind, even as she tried to shut them out.

She slammed her hand down on the desk as tears flooded her eyes. The laptops jumped, and a pile of papers slid off the desk to flutter slowly in a mess to the floor. She’d been faithful to him no matter what! She’d been feeling stifled and unsatisfied for years, but she’d never once strayed from her vows. What gave him the right to think he could?

Tears dripped onto her faded blue jeans, darkening the fabric in widening circles as more and more fell. She closed her eyes and sobbed.

She sobbed until she was no longer sure why she was crying. Was it because she missed Sander? Or at least, who she thought Sander used to be? Was it because he’d been unfaithful? Or was it because she felt free now that he was gone and she felt guilty for feeling that way?

She pulled a tissue out of the small, square box on Sander’s desk. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose, then took a deep breath. The kids would be home from school soon. She needed to get it together.

She logged out of the bank website and then bent down to pick up the papers that had fallen to the floor. She didn’t bother trying to put them back in order. She just shoved everything back into the drawer. She’d try again tomorrow to sort it all out. She’d come in here earlier, maybe right after the kids had left for school, so that she would have plenty of time to sort through papers and emotions all at once.

She closed her laptop and took it with her as she walked out of the office. Before she closed the door, she looked at the room one more time. She didn’t know the man who’d occupied this office. She closed the door behind her.

––––––––

So, things at Wind Blown Technology will continue as usual in the wake of Sander’s death. The only difference will be that I’m in charge of everything for now. Anything Sander dealt with will be handled by me. Does everyone understand?

Stetson Christensen looked around, noting the nods from most of the employees. He nodded himself then dismissed them to return to work.

His business partner’s death had rocked the company hard. The company was small, and everyone knew everyone. Sander had been killed here in the building, one of the janitors finding his body. Rumors had quickly begun circulating. A few employees were convinced that Sander had been killed by a rival company for business secrets. Others knew he cheated on his wife and speculated that she found out and killed him. Or the mistress found out. Sander had shut all the rumors down the second he heard of them, particularly the one about Meadow finding out he was cheating. He knew she’d never do that, and he couldn’t stand hearing anyone imply she would. Fortunately, it had died as quickly as Sander had when the cops didn’t arrest her.

Thinking of Sander’s wife brought a frown to Stetson’s face. A couple of years ago, Sander had abruptly stopped bringing her to office functions, and she hadn’t come to the office at all. Stetson had wondered about the reasons behind those sudden changes. He’d also missed seeing Meadow. He knew she was Sander’s, but that didn’t stop him from finding her attractive, funny, and sweet. Now, he shoved aside those thoughts and wondered now how she was doing with all this.

He argued with himself briefly about whether or not to contact her. Surely she was aware of his attraction to her. She might feel uncomfortable. But he was sure that business etiquette, and certainly plain common courtesy, dictated he should check on his business partner’s widow and ensure she was all right. He also thought of the children. Sander’s kids had always struck Stetson as pretty cool kids, and he was sure they were taking this hard.

He ran a hand through his shoulder length hair. The dark curls fell back into tangled place after his fingers passed through. His green eyes narrowed as he decided that he would check on Meadow and the kids. He needed to do it at least once.

He decided to do it right now. Grabbing his car keys, he called his assistant in.

I’ll be out of the office for the rest of the day. I’ll have my cell phone on me, so call or text if anything comes up that needs my immediate attention. If it doesn’t require immediate attention, just make a note and put it on my desk. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.

The brown haired assistant nodded as she took some notes. He flashed a quick wave at her before striding out the door. Outside, he enjoyed the crisp air that hinted very strongly at autumn. The leaves were beginning to change color and he enjoyed the unique beauty of autumn leaves.

He climbed into his sleek new car and cranked up Springsteen as he pulled out of the parking lot. Though he’d only been to Sander’s house twice, he knew exactly how to get there. He enjoyed the drive, his window rolled halfway down and the breeze blowing through his hair. He slipped sunglasses on against the afternoon sun.

Finally, he wheeled the car into the long, straight driveway of Sander’s home. He pulled to a quick stop in front of the house and climbed out. Birds chirped in the trees that shaded parts of the yard and house. A breeze rustled the leaves, creating a dry scratching sound. Otherwise, everything was quiet.

At the door, he rang the bell. He could hear it echo in the house. He waited patiently. After a short time, Meadow opened the door. Her eyes and nose were red, and he saw some strange dark spots on the thighs of her jeans. Her light green t-shirt clung to the curves of her breasts and fell smoothly over her flat stomach.

She was thirteen years older than the first time he’d seen her, but those years hadn’t hurt her. Her body was slightly more lush and rounded after three children, her blond hair a little shorter, and there might have been a few crow’s feet around her eyes. The air of innocence and youth that had surrounded her all those years ago had developed into a quiet maturity that seemed to suit her better. But there was a sad knowledge in her eyes that he wished wasn’t there. He wished he could take it away for her.

Stetson? she said, her voice soft and slightly confused.

Hi, Meadow.

What are you doing here?

I just wanted to stop by and see how you’re doing. I know this has to be a difficult time for you and I want you to know if you need anything, I’m happy to help.

She smiled a thin, weak smile. I appreciate that. I’m doing all right, I suppose.

Good. And how are the kids?

They’re all right, too. Well, as all right as they can be after their father was murdered. It’s not easy, but we’ll all get through it.

Of course you will.

How’s the office?

Stetson shrugged. We’re dealing. It’s better for us than it is for you, I’m sure.

Meadow’s eyes darkened, some emotion slipping through them too fast for him to nail down.

I’m all right. I mostly focus on the kids, and that helps a lot.

You know, I’d be happy to spend some time with them, if you want. I know I’m no replacement for their dad, and I certainly wouldn’t want to be one. Nor would I know how to be one. But if they need a man to hang out with, or if you just need a break, I’m glad to help out.

She gave him a sweet smile, and it pierced something inside him.

Thanks, Stetson. That’s really nice. But I could never impose on you like that.

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. They both stood there, the silence growing until it began to feel awkward. He shifted from one foot to the other before he finally spoke.

Well, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to stop in and see how you were. As I said, if there’s anything I can do for you or your kids, don’t hesitate to ask.

Thank you, Stetson.

He nodded and turned to go.

Wait! Stetson? she called.

He turned back to her.

There is one thing you might be able to help me with.

Anything, Meadow.

He watched as she swallowed and then took a deep breath.

I was going through some of Sander’s things this afternoon. Financial stuff, mostly, trying to figure everything out. I came across a user name and password that I didn’t recognize, so I logged into it. He had a bank account with half a million dollars in it. It only had his name on it, but did it have anything to do with the business?

Stetson was shocked at the balance she gave him. While their business was certainly profitable, he knew that there was no way Sander had squirreled away half a million dollars.

I’m afraid it has nothing at all to do with the business, Meadow. I’m not sure where it came from, either. To be honest with you, looking at the lifestyle you maintain, there’s no way he could have set aside half a million dollars without you knowing.

She frowned at him. I was afraid you’d say that.

Sorry. But unless he was embezzling from the business, I can’t think of anything related to our business that would have given him half a million to squirrel away.

Meadow’s eyes narrowed. Would he do that?

That question just might have surprised him more than the rest of what she’d said. Did she know how untrustworthy her husband had been? Sander had always made it sound like she was the adoring, totally in love wife. Had he been wrong?

I don’t know, he told her. He hated having to give her that answer, but it was the truth.

I didn’t figure you would. But I had to ask.

I’m really sorry. I truly wish I could help you.

She shrugged. I figured it was a long shot. But you’re the only one I could think of to ask.

No problem.

Thanks for stopping by, she said and then slowly closed the door.

He walked slowly back to his car, lost in thought. Sander had half a million dollars in a secret bank account. Two questions came to mind: How? Why?

––––––––

It was only after he’d already left that Meadow realized that Stetson was the perfect person to ask about getting into Sander’s computer. They had a software company, for crying out loud! They might even have made a software that could help her get into the laptop.

But it wasn’t that surprising that he’d swept all rational thought from her mind. She’d always felt nervous and a little shy around him. Her first thought upon seeing him on her doorstep had been to wonder if maybe he would ask her out now. She knew it was silly, especially since she’d just been widowed, but her heart had leapt at the idea when it slid into her mind.

But now she needed to forget that. She had to focus on the things that mattered. Her faded crush on him wasn’t one of those things. Getting into Sander’s computer and getting access to financial records, and whatever else he might have on there was.

The kids would be home any minute. She decided she’d get them settled with a snack and started on homework, then she’d call Stetson. But what if he wasn’t back at the office yet? Well, Sander probably had his number somewhere in his office. If nothing else, she’d gotten his cell phone as part of his personal effects and surely she could find Stetson’s number in there.

The big yellow bus lumbered to a stop at the mailbox.