Atlanta, Georgia
0200 hours, August 5th
The jarring ring of the phone woke Lauren and sent her scrambling in the dark for the hand-held unit. The boys used the intercom as walkie-talkies and never left the phones in their bases, so it always ended up being a Marco Polo game to find one. Tonight it was under her antique slipper chair at her vanity. She found it in the record number of six rings.
"Hello," she said as breathless as if she'd been dirty dancing between the sheets and not just dreaming about the much-missed deed.
"Senora Collins, pleeease."
The Hispanic accent sent her pulse kicking. "I am Lauren Collins."
"This is Eduardo Alvarez with the consulate in Sao Paulo. I must tell you of an unfortunate accident."
Lauren closed her eyes and gripped the phone harder. "Bill's been in an accident? How badly is he hurt?"
"Forgive me, Senora. I did not mean to confuse you with my words. The policia found your husband's body in the lake at Paradise Resort tonight."
Lauren snapped her eyes open and sat in stunned silence for a moment. Then she shook the sleep from her mind. "What happened to Bill? How?"
"Forgive me again, pero, I do not have any more details at the moment. I will call back tomorrow once I know more from the policia and about when we can arrange transportation home for his body after the investigation."
"Investigation," Lauren found herself stupidly repeating.
"Si. I promise all will be done to find out what happened. Buenos, I will speak with you manana?"
"Yes," Lauren whispered. "Tomorrow."
The blaring dial tone finally penetrated her stupor and she hung up the phone. She looked at the dark shadows surrounding her in the scarce moonlight, and suddenly all of the images she'd blocked out with her hurt came rushing through her mind. Bill's empty clothes chest was still against the right wall. He never remembered which drawer held what and would always pull them all opened when getting dressed.
The family picture at the Georgia Aquarium still sat on top of the chest, but now faced the door rather than her bed. The boys often climbed in the chaise lounge next to it and shared stories about that day. It was amazing how much they remembered considering they were only four at the time.
The door to Bill's empty closet hung open because the boys had staged a Daytona 500 with their Dale Earnhardt, Jr. cars before bed last night. Her breath caught and her throat tightened as memories and feelings swamped her in a sad, painful wash. It was one thing to be mad at Bill when he was off jet setting and another to realize his life had been cut short, that he'd never walk through the door again and hold Matt and Mitch in his arms.
Her parents had died when she was sixteen, and now her sons would know that pain. Tears stung her eyes, but wouldn't flow. They were trapped somewhere between her anger and her hurt. All of his secret activity of late had her wondering if Bill had been involved in something that got him killed. Maybe it wasn't fair to think that, but she couldn't help it.
Dear God. Had the phone call been real? She looked at the bed. Was she having a weird nightmare? She searched back through the calls on the menu and discovered there had been five calls in the past eight hours. Two from 800 numbers, likely telemarketers. Two from T. Ettinger, Bill's friend Thomas, and one just a few minutes ago from a Sao Paulo area code 55-61. It had been real. Her heart squeezed with pain.
Suddenly glass shattered and Sasha and Sam started barking. Fearing the boys were up and in the kitchen, Lauren ran down the hall.
A quick glance in their room brought her racing heart to a stop before it thundered painfully harder. Both Matt and Mitch were asleep in their beds. Then who was downstairs? Had Sasha and Sam broken something? Halfway down the steps she caught sight of a black clad hulking figure standing just inside the kitchen French doors. He had a baseball bat and was trying to hit Sasha and Sam with it. Dear God!
The dogs danced in and out adeptly avoiding harm as one then the other would attempt to attack him from behind while the other from in front.
Why hadn't the security alarm gone off?
She called 911, received a busy signal, and started backing up the stairs. Cold terror chilled her spine as the man looked up and saw her. She knew he had even though she couldn't see his face or eyes beneath the black ski mask. She could feel the malevolent scrape of his stare as he stepped toward her, swinging the bat hard at Sasha and Sam. Holding up the phone for him to see, Lauren screamed, "The police are on their way!"
Then she turned and ran to the boys' room, locking the bedroom door. Her finger kept hitting the redial button until the operator answered and Lauren reported the intruder. Yet even after communicating the seriousness of her situation and being assured the police were on their way, panic still clawed at her. She shoved a dresser in front of the bedroom door and grabbed a baseball bat herself, but doubted she'd do any good against the man. He was tall, six-foot-something to her five-six. Still unable to sit and wait, she opened the boys' window, knocked out the screen, and made sure the fire escape ladder could be quickly tossed over the sill in case they needed a quick escape.
She strained to hear footsteps on the stairs, a groan or creak that sounded out of place. Was the intruder still inside the house? Sasha and Sam's barking continued but grew distant, indicating that they were unhurt and were hopefully chasing the intruder away.
Matt and Mitch jerked awake, looking at her sleepy-eyed, their race cars in their hands. She scooped up Matt and carried him over to Mitch's bed nearer to the window and cuddled them to her sides. She explained that there'd been a robber downstairs and they had to help her listen for the police. She told them if the robber came to the door they needed to climb down the ladder and run to Mrs. Rosen's house next door.
"We'll protect you, Mom." Mitch grabbed his dart gun from the shelf next to his bed, his expression solemn and fierce.
"Me too." Matt hung over the side of the bed, Thomas the Tank Engine underwear still on the outside of his pajamas, and pulled a loaded Nerf gun from beneath it. They aimed their weapons at the door and sat bravely in intense silence.
Lauren bit back a slight smile and blinked away tears. Never mind that they regularly shot at each other with the weapons, they were doing their absolute best, and she couldn't have loved them more than she did at that moment. No matter what mistakes she'd made in life and no matter how messed up her relationship with Bill had become, these two precious souls that she'd been given the honor to love were worth any price she'd had to pay. She prayed for them and for herself as hard now as she had when she went into labor and the doctor had told her the boys were likely too premature to survive.
Though it seemed forever, it couldn't have been more than eight minutes before the squad car arrived, blue lights flashing. Lauren opened the window and yelled down at them.
They instructed her to wait until they checked everything out. The report when they gave her the okay to exit the bedroom wasn't good. Lauren kept hold of Matt and Mitch's hands as they went downstairs and entered the kitchen. They asked her questions about what happened, and she explained.
The broken panels on the open French doors leading to the terrace made her feel sick. The safety of her home had been violated and lay as shattered as the glass on the ceramic tile floor.
"Ma'am, whoever broke in tonight was professional enough to disable your security system," said Officer Jenkins. Lauren gauged the cop to be about her age, thirty-two. Judging by his calm air of command, he had years of experience on the force. He was accompanied by a younger officer by the name of McCade, who was examining the lock on the French doors with a flashlight.
Officer Jenkins continued speaking when Lauren just stared at him in disbelief. She hadn't known that someone could so easily disable the one thing she relied the most on to keep her and her sons safe. "You notice anything out of the ordinary happen lately?" he asked. "Seen any strangers in the area or heard of any break-ins from your neighbors?"
Sasha and Sam's barking grew closer, and Lauren cleared the fear clogging her throat. "No, Officer. There hasn't been anything."
What about Bill's death? Her mind shouted at her. She glanced at Matt and Mitch and clamped her mouth closed. She didn't have any reason to connect his death with the break-in, and she couldn't let her sons learn of their father's death so abruptly either. God, she didn't know how she'd tell them, but would wait for more facts from the consulate in Brazil before she tried.
Officer McCade rose from examining the door latch. "Well, we can peg the guy as being impatient to get in. Looks as if he tried picking the lock, but then gave up finesse for brute force. A good thing too. You might not have heard him otherwise."
The chill in Lauren's spine deepened.
Sasha and Sam ran through the open door and began growling at the policemen.
"Friends, Sasha. Friends, Sam. Come. Sit," Lauren commanded. To her surprise, the dogs immediately obeyed, though they kept a low growl going and watched the policemen intently. They didn't make friends easily, and Lauren usually had to repeat herself several times. The officers looked impressed and she rolled her eyes-if they only knew the truth of things.
"Mom," Matt tugged on her arm. "Tell the policeman about the pony man. He might be mad that Sasha and Sam chased Clementine."
Officer Jenkins arched a brow. Lauren then explained the earlier incident and completely assured the policemen there really couldn't be a connection. But as she thought more about it, there could very well be more to Hank's Mr. Irresistible complex than met the eye. He'd been to her home. He knew it was just her and the boys living here. He would have had time to glance at the alarm system while taking a break during the party. Or even before the party started. He had arrived earlier than she'd expected and had wandered around the yard.
She drew a deep breath and gave Officer Jenkins a desperate look. "Would you two mind staying here for a few minutes longer while I gather a couple of things? I don't feel safe staying the rest of the night even if I could board up the broken panels of glass."
The officers agreed, and she brought the boys and the dogs upstairs with her as she grabbed a few necessities then loaded the car up for a trip to Angie's house.
"We'll fingerprint the door and outside windows and send a cruiser to regularly check on the house and the neighborhood," Officer Jenkins said they exited the house.
"Thank you."
"Just glad that you and your sons are safe, ma'am. Call if you need us." The officer handed her his card.
Lauren nodded. The police were climbing into their squad car as she pulled out of the driveway. Who had tried to break into her house and why? Was the break-in connected to Bill's death?
She couldn't reach Angie's house fast enough.