Plain Cover-Up. Alison Stone

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Plain Cover-Up - Alison  Stone


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just...well...” Christina stammered. She never stammered. Her comment to Dylan last night that she wasn’t some cartoon-character sleuth was about to come back to haunt her. That’s exactly how she was acting. Unprepared. Foolish. Babbling. “I was driving by here and I thought I saw some activity by the barn.”

      Linda frowned. “I’m not aware of anything, but I didn’t stay here. We arrived this morning.”

      “Did your husband or son stay here?”

      She hesitated for a moment and the color heightened in her cheeks. “No, we were too busy packing for the big move.” Linda stifled a yawn. “The move is wearing me out. I really need to get back to work.” Her tone reflected her frustration and embarrassment heated Christina’s cheeks. She was usually socially aware, but she didn’t want to leave so easily. She wanted to find out more about the barn party held here last night.

      Linda pulled the box from the edge of the truck and its weight seemed to pull on her arms. “I better take this in. Nice meeting you.”

      Christina wrapped her arms around the edge of the box, taking the brunt of the weight. “Please let me do that.”

      “Thank you.” She released her grip on the box. “I need to learn how to accept help. I’m not as strong as I once was.”

      “You’re welcome.” Perhaps God had placed Christina here for this one small kindness today, to help her get out of her own head and her own problems.

      Linda hurried ahead of Christina, leading the way. Christina was grateful the box wasn’t that heavy. Once they stepped into the foyer, Linda pointed to another box. “Please, put it next to that one.” The smells of fresh paint and new carpeting permeated the air.

      Christina pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded. She placed the box on top of another one. She didn’t envy the work ahead of this woman. “If you need anything, please feel free to contact me. I’m only a few minutes away in town. At the healthcare clinic, as I mentioned before.”

      Linda waved her hand in dismissal, then her eyes brightened. “Thank you.” She lifted her fingers to the scarf wrapped around her head.

      “If you need help with any of this...” Christina held her hand out to the boxes scattered around the foyer.

      Linda shook her head. “There’s two able-bodied men who live here. They can get after these boxes.”

      Christina laughed. “Well, I do run the clinic. So, if you need anything in that regard...”

      “I’m getting the best possible treatment at Roswell Park in Buffalo. It’s a bit of a drive...but...”

      “Oh, yes, Roswell is well respected. I guess I meant if you needed anything and didn’t want to drive all the way into Buffalo.” Christina was careful about how she worded things.

      Deep voices could be heard floating up through the vents from the basement. Christina glanced around the cozy house that was still in need of a little TLC, but would surely make a comfortable home. She brushed at the dust on her pants. “Nice to meet you, Linda. Can I bring in a few more boxes before I go?”

      Linda shook her head vigorously. “Oh, no... I’ve already imposed too much. Thank you for stopping by. I appreciate your introducing yourself to me.” The poor woman had probably thought a local gossip had alerted the town doctor that a woman with cancer had moved in, when that was not the case at all.

      However, would the truth be any better? That Christina had stopped by to see if the occupants had held an underage drinking party on their property? But it seemed—like Cheryl had said—some teenagers had taken advantage of an empty house to party. More than likely, they wouldn’t be back now that the house was occupied.

      “If you see anyone out back, perhaps hanging around your barn, can you call me?”

      “Um...sure.” Linda took the business card with Christina’s contact information on it and turned it over in her hands. An unease rolled off Linda’s thin frame. “Do you think that’s something I need to be worried about?”

      “It was probably teenagers.” Christina feared she had already said too much. She cleared her throat and rubbed her hands together. “I should go. Please call if you see anything...or if you need anything.”

      “Who are you talking to?” A gruff male voice sounded from the back of the house, sending goose bumps racing across Christina’s skin.

      Linda held out her arm and began to usher Christina toward the door. “Thanks again, Christina. I’ll definitely contact you if I need anything.”

      Christina stepped outside, the door still propped open.

      “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your visitor?” The man’s voice got closer. Christina spun around and froze in her tracks.

      He had more lines at the corners of his eyes and less hair on his head, but he had the same darkness in his eyes and smug look on his thin lips.

      Roger Everett. Her brother Nick’s good friend. A captain in the army. That’s how Linda knew her brother. Christina thought she had looked familiar, but her illness had made her gaunt.

      Roger Everett. The name of the man she’d never forget.

      The man who had attacked her several years ago.

      The man she had been too afraid to accuse.

      And now he was here, back in Apple Creek.

       THREE

      “Christina? Christina Jennings? Is that you?” Roger Everett’s lips curved into a smarmy grin—could only she see that?—yet his tone was that of a long-lost friend. Christina felt all the blood drain from her face and she sent up a silent prayer that she wouldn’t pass out right there.

      Roger lifted his arms as if to embrace her and Christina held up her hands to block him. “Roger Everett.” The two words spilled out of her mouth. The smile plastered on her face—a smile for his wife’s benefit—hid the icy terror pumping through her veins.

      “You remember Nick’s sister?” Linda asked, curiosity in her large eyes. “I don’t recall having met her before. When did you meet her?”

      “Of course I met little Christina Jennings. Oh, wait, she’s Dr. Christina Jennings now.”

      Linda squinted at her. “I don’t...”

      “I’m not sure we ever met. Maybe only in passing,” Christina stammered.

      “How is Nick?” Roger asked, carrying on this cheery charade.

      “Good.” Christina’s heart was nearly rioting out of her chest, but she had to keep her cool. She’d had a lot of practice playing it cool under fire. She was a physician, after all. “You haven’t seen him lately?”

      “Ah, ya know. Now and again. Everyone’s so busy, especially now that he has a little one. How is the baby?”

      “Fine.” Christina didn’t want to give this man any more information about her family than necessary. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I saw the trailer...” Christina stared at him as the walls in the foyer swayed.

      Since Christina had refused to accuse Roger of wrongdoing soon after he attacked her, she wasn’t about to start now. His wife was ill. Christina didn’t want to cause her any more stress. “I was...on my way out.” She stepped onto the porch and backed down the steps, holding the railing. She spun around and walked briskly toward her car.

      “What brought you out here?” Roger called after her.

      “I didn’t know who bought this house. I wanted to welcome the new family to the neighborhood.” She aimed her key fob at the car and the locks chirped. She struggled to stay composed as a familiar fear crawled up her spine


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