Don't Look Back (4 page)

“I’m so sorry,” Chloe’s owner said.

The other owner smiled, clearly uncomfortable.

“She’s a beautiful dog,” I said.

Chloe’s owner turned to me. She looked like she was in her thirties and had a mass of curly brown hair held in place by two large barrettes. “Thanks. She’s really sweet, just a little overly friendly sometimes.”

“Well, that’s why we’re here, I guess.”

“What’s your dog’s name?” the woman asked.

“Greta.”

“She’s a pretty dog too.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m Billi,” the woman said.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Kate.”

“Have you been to obedience school before?”

“No. In fact this is the first dog I’ve owned.”

“Really?”

“What about you?” I asked, holding tightly to Greta’s leash as she tried to get a a closer look at the other dogs.

“I’ve been through this once before. It really helped with my other dog.”

“That’s good to hear. I’m really hoping I can get Greta trained.”

“Well, German Shepherds are really smart dogs, so I would imagine it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

We stopped talking as the instructor said he was ready to begin. An hour later I loaded Greta into my car, feeling pretty good about how well she had done. The next lesson would be the following week.

When we got home I played with her in the backyard for a while, then placed her in her crate before heading to the local paint store. Mary had given me permission to paint and I intended to put the stamp of my personality on my house.

I had a hard time deciding exactly which color to choose for the living room, but finally selected a blue-grey color. I also bought brushes and rollers and any other supplies I thought I would need. Fortunately, I had painted before, so I knew what I was doing. When I lived with Dad, we had had painted several of the rooms together.

Excited to make the house my own, I hurried home, let Greta out of her crate and set out my supplies. After dragging the couch into the middle of the small room, I laid out the drop cloth to protect the wood floor.

Greta immediately grabbed a corner and began dragging it, certain we were playing a game. I couldn’t help but laugh. “No, Greta. This is for painting.” I tugged on the drop cloth but that only made her pull harder. Suddenly the cloth ripped and Greta sat on her bottom with a thump. I laughed harder at the surprised look on her face.

She began shaking the fabric in her mouth like it was prey she was trying to kill.

“Okay. Enough of that.” I gently removed it from her mouth. “Back in the crate with you.” I put her back in her crate and repositioned the covering on the floor.

Greta barked, wanting to be with me and I didn’t know what to do. I hated for her to be unhappy, but I certainly couldn’t paint if she was allowed to run loose. Her barks turned to whimpers. I went upstairs and got her pet bed and set it in the dining room where she’d be out of the way but still able to see me. Then I secured her leash to one of the legs on the dining room table and attached the other end to her collar. Setting a toy on her pet bed, I was able to get her to lay down.

I placed painting tape around the ceiling and baseboards, then I poured some paint into the tray, dipped the roller into the paint and started covering the wall. After covering a large area, I stepped back and admired my work. I loved the color; it relaxed me. Within an hour I had finished the first coat.

After cleaning up, I took Greta out back and watched her run around while I sat on the porch steps. I need to get a chair for back here, I thought, mentally adding it to my list of things to buy.

As I thought of the items I wanted to buy, I knew it would soon become critical that I have a job. I went inside and grabbed my laptop and brought it outside. The cable modem had a built-in router so I was able to access the Internet wirelessly.

I pulled up a job search website and looked for jobs in my area that I was qualified for. Most of the listings required a degree - not that I had the skills they wanted - but it soon became apparent that I would have to set my sights much lower. Pulling up the websites of local retailers, I filled out several online applications and submitted them, hoping for the best.

Next, I found the site for the Reno newspaper and searched for information on Trevor’s arrest. There was a short article about two men being arrested for motor vehicle theft, but it didn’t list their names. I could only assume the article was about Trevor and Rob. Then I pulled up the website for the jail but couldn’t find anything with Trevor’s name. I saw several arrests, but the names were blocked for privacy reasons. I wondered if his was one of those.

In any case, he clearly was no longer in jail or he wouldn’t have been able to email me. Every time I thought about him searching for me, panic engulfed me. What if he found me? Would he hurt me or try to convince me to be with him? The unknown scared me more than anything.

Later that evening I painted the second coat on the living room walls. Pleased with the results, I decided to work on the nursery next. First thing the next morning I went back to the paint store and picked out a soft green paint. I figured that color would work for a boy or a girl.

Once home I carried the supplies up to the baby’s room. Since there was no furniture, this would be a perfect time to paint. I put Greta in her crate, but at least she didn’t bark this time. I assumed it was because I was upstairs and she couldn’t see me. I spread out the drop cloth, taped off the ceiling, baseboards, and window frame and set to work.

After I finished the first coat, I decided to paint the closet. I wanted to take the closet doors off and struggled to get them off the track, but finally removed them and placed them in the hallway. This was the first time I had taken a look inside this closet and immediately noticed something strange. There was a small door in the bottom right corner of the closet wall. It was about four feet high and two feet wide. A small latch hung next to it, but it wasn’t hooked. And I could see light seeping in around the edges of the miniature door.

Chapter Seven

There was no handle or knob, but I was able to use my fingers to grip the edge and pull the door open. I knelt down and peered into the space. Light poured in. I had to crouch to get through the opening, but once through I was able to stand. The room was nearly as large as the baby’s room and the light came from a window. As I thought about it, there were two upstairs windows in the front of the house, but only one in the baby’s room. Obviously this was the room that housed the other window.

A thick layer of dust covered the floor. “I wonder why this room doesn’t have an entrance from the hallway,” I said to the empty room. Did Mary know about this place? Should I ask her? The room was a good size. Was there some way I could put it to use?

I turned around and looked at the way I had come. I visualized the outside entrance having stacks of boxes against it, making it invisible.

A panic room. That’s how I could use it. It wouldn’t be like a real panic room - the walls weren’t made of reinforced steel or anything - but it was a hidden room. A place where I could go if I felt threatened.

A place where I could hide from Trevor.

And that’s really what it came down to. I wanted a place where I could go if Trevor were to show up.

The paint job in the baby’s room forgotten, I went downstairs and got the broom and dustpan and brought them back to the secret room. I opened the window to help with the dust I was sure to create, then carefully swept, trying to minimize the dust in the air. I had to get a trash can to dump the dust piles in, but after several passes across the wood floor, all but a thin layer of dust was gone.

Next, I got the mop and a water-filled bucket and mopped up the remaining dust.

“That’s much better,” I said.

The walls looked like they were off-white, but could use a wipe-down. I got fresh water in the bucket, along with a sponge, and proceeded to wipe down the walls. By the time I was done, I was soaked with sweat, but the room couldn’t be any cleaner.

I wanted to bring something soft to sit or lay on, just in case I needed to actually spend time in there. The doorway was too small to bring in actual furniture, but a medium-size bean bag chair would work.

My mental list was growing, so I decided I’d better start writing down the things I needed to buy. I put all the cleaning supplies away and then found my notepad and started a list. A knock at the door sent my heart into a gallop and I almost rushed up the stairs to hide in my panic room.

“I’ve got to calm down,” I murmured.

Greta had started barking at the knocking. I debated whether to let her out of her crate, but decided not to.

As I approached the front door, I saw a familiar car in the driveway and felt myself relax.

“Mary,” I said after I opened the door. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well. But I wanted to see how you’re settling in.”

“How thoughtful of you. Please come in.” I closed the door behind her as she stepped into the living room.

“This color is lovely, Kate.”

I smiled, feeling proud of my paint job despite the uncomfortable feeling when she used my fake name.

“This place is really shaping up,” she said, turning to me. Then she turned toward Greta’s barking. “And what do we have here?”

Greta’s barking began to grow more insistent. I followed Mary into the dining room where Greta was locked in her crate.

“May I let her out?” Mary asked.

I nodded and watched as Mary unlatched the crate. Greta bounded out and nearly knocked Mary over.

“Greta, no!” I scolded, embarrassed by my puppy’s behavior. I was able to grab her collar and keep her from jumping on my guest.

“It’s all right, Kate. She doesn’t know any better. She’s just a puppy.” Mary leaned down and scratched Greta’s chin.

“We started obedience school yesterday, but I think it will take a while for her to learn her manners.”

Mary just laughed. Then she looked at me more closely. “You’re awfully dusty.”

I noticed a twinkle in her eyes.

“You didn’t find the secret room, did you?”

She smiled when she asked, so I didn’t think I had done anything wrong. “As a matter of fact, I did. When I was painting the baby’s room, I found it.”

“I’ll bet you were surprised.”

Squatting next to Greta, I looked up at Mary and nodded.

“I know exactly how you felt. Shortly after we moved in, my husband  found it too. We asked our realtor about it, but all she knew was that the previous owner was a bit eccentric and had it built that way. We had intended to make it into a regular room by putting an entrance in the hallway, but by the time we needed the space, we had bought a larger house and we never got back to the project.”

“Have your previous tenants asked to have it changed?”

“There have only been two other tenants before you. One was an older couple and they never mentioned it. I’m not sure they even knew about the room. And the last tenant was a single gentleman. He discovered the room, but didn’t need the space, and didn’t want to be bothered by any renovations. What about you, Kate? Would you like to have it converted into a regular room?”

“No,” I answered, a bit too quickly. “No, it’s fine. I have enough space without it. And anyway, maybe when my baby gets older he or she could use it as a play area.”

“All right then.” Mary glanced into the back yard. “By the way, you’re welcome to plant flowers or vegetables in the yard if you’d like.”

“Well, thank you. I may do that,” I said as I stood. I let go of Greta’s collar, but she stayed in place.

Mary reached out and placed her hand on my arm. “I just want you to make this your home, Kate.”

I could see the compassion in her eyes and felt a lump form in my throat. I nodded in response, afraid if I opened my mouth that I would burst into tears.

“I’ll let you get back to your painting, dear,” she said, pulling her arm away.

“Thank you for everything,” I managed to say.

Mary nodded and walked toward the front door. I followed behind her. She opened the door, then said, “If you need anything, you just give me a call.”

“I will.”

With that, she left. I locked the door behind her, then took Greta out back to let her run around for a while. I threw the ball for her and when she was panting I led her back inside and to her pet bed and she curled up, but kept her eyes on me as I fixed myself lunch.

After I cleaned up, I wanted to keep working on the baby’s room. Though I wanted to leave Greta out of her crate, I wasn’t sure what she’d do - I didn’t want her to be underfoot while I worked. I decided to give it a try and let her follow me up the stairs. I set her pet bed in the hallway, just outside the door, and invited her to lay down. Not surprisingly, she declined, instead going around the room, sniffing all the edges. It didn’t take long for her to discover the secret room, especially since I’d left the door open.

She scampered inside and I crawled in after her. I let her get familiar with the place. After a few minutes I encouraged her to come back into the baby’s room. When she did, I closed and latched the door. I got her to lay on her pet bed, but as soon as I started rolling paint on the closet wall, she became curious and trotted over to investigate.

Reluctantly, I took her back to her crate, then went upstairs and continued painting. When I had finished the inside of the closet, I decided the room would need one more coat, but it wouldn’t be ready for several hours and that evening I had my first self-defense class. After I cleaned the paint brushes, I showered and changed into a pair of sweats, then had a light dinner and drove to the place where the self-defense lesson would be given.

When I walked in I saw about a dozen women plus one instructor. There were two pairs of what looked like mothers with their teenage daughters, so I wasn’t the youngest one in the room. But I suspected I was the only one who was pregnant. I wasn’t sure if that was something I needed to bring to the instructor’s attention. Not really wanting to, I decided I would just be extra cautious.