Read Storm on the Horizon Page 8


  Chapter 8

  Kate was shaking so badly when she stepped outside under the smothering Utah sun that she could scarcely manage to climb into her SUV and get the key into the ignition. She was grateful that Jason was absorbed in his new book and didn’t chatter about their encounter with Mark on the way home. And at least the pending pizza date gave her something new to think about—and anticipate. It seemed it had been a long while since she’d actually looked forward to something, even if her emotions were more than slightly mixed about the occasion. It wasn’t until they arrived home and she put the key in the front door, only to find it pushed open without her having to turn the knob, that she remembered the mysterious phone calls and the feeling that someone had been following her. As they stepped inside, the ransacked living room greeted them like an evil omen.

  “Mom, what happened?” Jason’s voice was tinged with wonder at the scene in front of them, but all Kate felt was the unwelcome assurance that her fears had indeed been well-founded. Surely someone was stalking her, and she had no idea why. She could only hope and pray that the police could answer that question.

  By the time the officers left it was late afternoon, and Kate had collapsed on the living room couch in exhaustion. Her lightheadedness, she decided, was probably due to a combination of nerves and no lunch. Although she had fixed Jason a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of milk while they waited for the police to arrive, she had been unable even to consider the thought of eating anything herself. Nothing seemed to bother Jason’s appetite, however, and he had asked for a second sandwich and a banana, both of which he had devoured before running out onto the front porch to watch for the police. When they drove up in front of the house without their lights flashing and sirens blaring, Jason had been terribly disappointed.

  “I thought it would be more exciting than this,” he complained as the two officers fired a barrage of routine questions at Kate, then did the same with Mrs. Johnson, Kate’s neighbor, in hopes that she might have seen something suspicious. She hadn’t.

  When they were through asking questions, Mrs. Johnson went back home, and the policemen proceeded to search the house room by room. But even with Kate and Jason’s help, they were unable to find anything missing.

  “Probably just picked your house at random,” the older officer told her. “When they couldn’t find what they were looking for—drugs or money or whatever—they took off.”

  “I suppose,” Kate agreed, wanting to believe he was right, but deep down sensing that it was much more than a random break-in. Should she tell them? But what could she say? That she “felt” as if someone was following her? That occasionally her phone rang and no one was there? That her lawyer’s secretary was jealous of her? That a woman at the lake looked at her son in a strange way, or that a cantankerous old man had threatened to shoot them?

  No. None of it made any sense. None of it tied together. Just vague coincidences and impressions, enhanced by an overactive imagination. Besides, even if they believed her, what could they do?

  “Don’t forget those deadbolts, Mrs. Ames,” the younger, heavyset officer reminded her as he and his partner made their way down the porch and out to their car. “You really should get them installed on both doors as quickly as possible. Almost anyone could break in with those flimsy locks you have on there now.”

  Kate had nodded and promised to do just that, then gone back into the house and plunked down on the couch where she now sat, wishing with all her heart that her father or Tony were still alive to help her cope with her fears, face her problems, and make some much-needed decisions. She hated having to be responsible for everything by herself, yet it seemed she had no choice.

  She jumped, startled from her reverie, when the screen door slammed and Jason came racing in from the backyard where he had been playing on his swing set.

  “What time is it?” he demanded, his red cheeks smudged with dirt and his dark hair plastered to his head.

  Kate checked her watch. “It’s almost six,” she answered, then looked back at her son and smiled. “You look hot. Why don’t you go into the kitchen and get yourself a cold drink while I try to figure out something for dinner.”

  Jason looked puzzled. “Why? I thought Mark was taking us out for pizza.”

  Kate’s eyes opened wide. She had forgotten all about their date with Mark. She glanced at her watch again. “Oh, no. He said he’d pick us up at six-thirty. That’s only half an hour from now.” She ran her fingers through her short, curly blonde hair. “I’d better jump in the shower right away. At least, in this weather, my hair should dry in a hurry. As soon as I’m out, you can take a quick shower, too. Okay, Sport?”

  Jason nodded, his brown eyes dancing with anticipation. “Pizza,” he said. “I can hardly wait. I sure hope he likes pepperoni.”

  Kate showered, slipped into a fresh sundress, and towel-dried her damp curls, all within a space of about ten minutes. While Jason took his turn in the shower, Kate dabbed on a touch of make-up, changed clothes three times, and ended up back in the original sundress. It was a pale pink with white lace trim, accenting her golden tan and rosy cheeks. Her blue-gray eyes stared back at her from the bedroom mirror. What did she see in them? Anticipation? Fear? Confusion? Most likely a combination of all three, she decided.

  She had just grabbed some white sandals and a matching purse from the closet when she heard the doorbell ring.

  “Coming,” she called, sliding into her sandals and hurrying toward the front door.

  “You look a little flustered,” Mark said, smiling hesitantly as he stepped inside. “Am I early? Did I get the time wrong or something?”

  “Oh, no,” Kate assured him, wishing she were better at hiding her feelings. “It’s not that. It’s just, well...”

  “I’m ready,” Jason announced, hurrying into the living room, his hair still dripping and his shirt buttoned crooked. “Let’s go get some pizza.”

  Kate laughed. “Not quite, young man,” she said, taking her son gently by the hand and leading him back toward the bathroom. Jason’s interruption had eased the awkward moment between her and Mark, and for that she was grateful. She was equally grateful that Jason was to be included in their date.

  “Please, sit down, Mark,” she called over her shoulder. “We’ll be right back.”

  Mark was lounging comfortably in the overstuffed brown armchair across from the rust-colored sofa, leafing through a woman’s magazine, by the time Kate and Jason returned. When he looked up at them and smiled, Kate felt her heart skip a beat. If it was possible, Mark’s dark blue shirt and jeans made his eyes appear even bluer than she remembered. His smile seemed to light up the entire room.

  “Hey, that’s better,” Mark said, standing up as Jason hurried to his side. “Now I think we’re all ready to go get some pizza. I sure hope you like pepperoni.”

  Jason’s resounding “Yippee!” sent them all into gales of laughter, as Kate picked up her purse and they headed out the front door. His nonstop chatter dominated the five-minute ride to the pizza parlor and kept Kate from having to search for ways to keep the conversation alive. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, she wondered if maybe an evening out wasn’t exactly what she had needed, after all.

  “So,” Mark said, as soon as they had placed their order, “how does it feel to be back? Are you unpacked yet?”

  It was the first time Kate had thought of their unpacked suitcases, still sitting in the back of her SUV where she had left them. She had intended to bring them in as soon as she unlocked the house, but having discovered the break-in, she had forgotten about the suitcases entirely.

  “Well, no,” she hedged. “Not really. I suppose I’ll do that tonight. I—”

  “We didn’t have time,” Jason interrupted. “We were busy waiting for the police to come, but they didn’t even have their lights or sirens on. Then we had to answer a bunch of dumb questions and search the house. But nothing was missing, and Mrs. Johnson did
n’t see anybody break in or anything, so we don’t know if they’ll catch the bad guys or not, and now we have to buy new locks. Dead ones.”

  Mark blinked, looking from Kate to Jason and back again, a furrow of concern creasing his brow. “What’s going on, Kate? What happened? Did someone break into your house while you were gone?”

  Kate nodded, not really wanting to discuss the break-in but relieved in a way that someone else knew about it. Not that there was anything Mark could do, but his knowing seemed to ease the pressure somehow.

  “Yes,” she admitted with a sigh. “I’m afraid someone did break in and ransack the place while we were gone. Like Jason said, though, nothing seems to be missing. The police think it might have been someone looking for drugs or money or something, and when they didn’t find it, they just took off. I hope they’re right.”

  Mark’s frown deepened, and the concern in his eyes was obvious. “Do you have any reason to think otherwise?”

  Kate swallowed as she remembered the phone calls, the feeling that someone was watching her, the Simons and Chester Greeley, even Sharon’s resentment of Lyle Montgomery’s attentions to Kate. Part of her longed to tell Mark about it, but even if she knew him well enough to do so, she certainly couldn’t discuss it in front of Jason.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sure they’re right. Just picked our house at random, like they said. I can’t imagine that they’ll come back, especially since they didn’t find anything worth taking the first time. But just to be on the safe side, I’ll follow the officers’ advice and check on having some new locks installed.” She turned toward Jason. “And they’re called deadbolt locks, honey,” she explained with a smile. “Not dead locks.”

  “You should get them put in as quickly as possible,” Mark said. “Don’t wait. Try to get someone to come out tomorrow. Maybe I can recommend someone for you....” He stopped, flushing suddenly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so pushy. It’s none of my business, I know, but...”

  “It’s all right,” Kate assured him, sensing an urge to put him at ease. “I appreciate your concern.”

  He stared into her eyes intently. “I’ll pray for you tonight,” he said. “For both of you. I know God will take good care of you.”

  Kate felt the familiar flush creep up her neck and cheeks, and she was sure her face was just as red as Mark’s had been a moment earlier. She had meant what she said; she truly did appreciate his concern. But she realized she would be a lot more comfortable around Mark if he would quit making references to God all the time.

  Their pizza arrived then, and the smell of pepperoni and melted cheese drifted up to their nostrils. Jason was just about to grab a piece when Mark stopped him.

  “Would it be all right if we prayed together first?” he asked, reaching across the table to join hands with Kate and Jason. “I always make it a practice to give thanks to God before I eat.”

  Kate hesitated as Jason took Mark’s hand eagerly. When she realized they were both looking at her, waiting for her to join in, she did so self-consciously, wondering if the people at the next table were watching them.

  “Father God, I thank You for Kate and Jason,” Mark prayed. “I thank You for bringing them back safely from the lake, and I thank You that nothing was taken from their home. I pray for Your protection over them, Lord. Surround them with Your love and grace, and bless them with Your presence. We thank You now for this food and ask You to bless it to our use. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  As Mark and Jason withdrew their hands and reached for the steaming pizza sitting in the middle of the table, Kate opened her eyes but kept them riveted on the red and white checked tablecloth in front of her. She didn’t dare look up until she had time to swallow the lump in her throat and blink back the hot tears that stung the back of her eyelids. The raging emotions within her were the most confusing she had felt in a long, long time.