Uncorked (18 page)

“What? Why didn’t you tell me
about this sooner? Are you okay?”

“I was afraid to get anyone
involved. I still am. The only other person who knows is Mitch, and even though
I’m in his house, I still have concerns about his involvement in my life
because of this situation.”

Mitch brought in a pot of coffee,
placed it on the coffee table, and poured them each a cup.

“So you’ve been dealing with this
on your own all these years? Your father would kill me. I obviously haven’t
done a very good job of looking out for you.”

“Craig, that’s not true. You’ve
always been there for me since Mom and Dad died. You’ve never forgotten a
birthday or Christmas.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you
know it. So where is this guy?”

She took a deep breath. “He’s
been on the run. The police are having a hard time tracking him down. The FBI
and ATF got involved in the case last night.”

“Wait a second… that explosion on
the news last night at Coronado…that was you?”

“Yes. I didn’t even realize it
was on the news.”

“It was. That’s how I found out,”
Mitch said, taking a sip of his coffee.

“But they said there were
unconfirmed reports that a young woman was killed.”

“I’m still trying to figure out
where they got that information,” Mitch said.

“I’m glad you told me, but why
now?”

“The police advised me to keep a
low profile. They don’t think he’s going to stop until he kills me.”

“What?”

“This will affect your business
if I’m not careful. He’s already cost Mitch thousands of dollars in damage. I
don’t think he knows where I work, but the mailroom needs to be
careful—especially with mail coming in for me. This is all happening to Mitch
simply because he’s in my life. I don’t want it happening to you, too. I’m so
sorry about this.”

Craig responded in an unusually
firm tone. “You have no control over what some psychotic idiot does. Whatever
you need, we will facilitate. I don’t want you to have any concerns about your
job. I’m more worried about your safety now, both inside and outside the
office.” Craig softened his tone, held her hand, and looked into her eyes,
“Maybe it’s my fault I didn’t make this clear to you growing up. You are the
daughter that Maggie and I never had. I love you like a daughter – That
relationship comes first, not Chella my Marketing Executive. In the future,
come to me. I know not everything is my business, but Maggie and I will always
be there for you.”

“Thank you,” she replied as he
pulled her into an embrace.

“Is there anything I can do for
you, Chella?” asked Craig.

“My computer was destroyed last
night. I’m going to get it replaced soon. Can you have the IT department send
me a copy of my backup files from Friday?”

“I will, but not for another
week. You should be in bed resting.”

“I am. But it was important for
me to talk to you about this.”

“Mitch, thank you.” Craig stood
and extended his hand. “Thank you for helping her through this. God alone knows
what would have happened if you weren’t in her life.”

 Mitch firmly shook his hand then
responded, “She’s fought me every step along the way. Don’t worry. She means
the world to me, too. We just have to be careful and make sure all security
measures are in place.”

Mitch’s phone rang. He said
goodbye to Craig, excused himself and answered the call, leaving Craig and
Chella alone.

“So he’s Mr. Forgive-me-flowers?”
Craig asked as they walked to the foyer.

She blushed at his words and
couldn’t stop the enormous smile from creeping over her face.

“Wow. I’ve been waiting to see
you like this for a long time, Chella. He’s a keeper.”

“You think so?”

“Definitely,” he said, kissing
her on her forehead. “Now get some rest and be careful. Call if you need
anything.”

After Craig left, she could still
hear Mitch on the phone in his study. She returned to her room, curled up on
the bed and eventually fell asleep.

Several hours later,
Chella got up. She glanced at
her watch and realized that she had slept the entire day. Bright orange from
the setting sun cast funky shadows across the walls in the otherwise dimly-lit
room.

While getting ready to go into
the great room, she could hear the clinking of pots and pans along with
sizzling sounds coming from the kitchen. She knew Mitch was cooking dinner—his
favorite pastime.

“Looks like you have your hands
full.” She slipped onto one of the island bar stools.

“Almost done. I know you must be
starving. You’ve barely eaten all day.”

“I am,” she replied. “Can I help
you with anything?”

“Nope. Everything’s ready. Let’s
go out on the veranda to eat.”

After they sat, he fixed her a
plate.

“Any news?” she asked.

“Detective Carter came by.
Aaron’s face is going to be all over the local news tonight.”

“Good. I hope they can make an
arrest soon, because if things don’t change, it won’t be long before we feel
like we’re under house arrest. They’re not mentioning my name in the news report
are they?”

“No. As a matter of fact, they’re
not correcting the inaccurate report. They think you’ll be safer if he thinks
you’re dead. He won’t be plotting and scheming what damage or hurt to do next.”

“That’s smart.”

“He’s also been driving a black car.
From the two stores across the street, the police were able to get a picture
with him leaving the hotel after he dropped off those letters.”

“Do they know the make of the car
or plate numbers?”

“No plates, but they think it
might be a late model Toyota Corolla.”

“I’m so eager for this to be
over.”

“Me, too. Chella, there’s
something I have to tell you. I didn’t tell you earlier because I didn’t want
to upset you last night.”

“What is it?” she asked, sipping
some of her water.

“Remember that small package that
came with the mail?”

“Oh, yeah. I’d completely
forgotten about that. Where is it?”

“The police opened it. It was
delivered by Aaron, as well.”

“What was inside?”

“Gruesome pictures of a woman’s
corpse. Your face was photoshopped on them.”

She sat quietly, fidgeting,
rubbing her hands together then said, “Well I guess he did pursue graphic arts
after all.”

“Are you okay?”

“I guess. I really don’t know
what to say. I’m glad I didn’t see them.”

“I thought it might upset you if
I told you last night.”

“It may have, but I’m okay. It’s
by no means comforting, but it didn’t hurt me or you and there’s nothing I can
do about it. He’s just mounting the evidence against himself.”

“I’m happy you see it that way.
Let’s put it behind us and find more pleasant things to talk about.”

“Like what?”

“You. What you want out of life.
How you’d like to live, your hopes, your dreams.”

“Wow, that’s a loaded sort of
question. I don’t know where to start.”

“Start the day after Aaron
Stewart is arrested.”

“I don’t know that there would be
any grandiose gesture or celebration. I’d just love to walk down the street, or
in the supermarket, or on the beach and not feel afraid or like I have to
constantly look over my shoulder. I’d love to settle down in my own place and
not leave half the suitcases packed, buy artwork for the walls, or see a set of
glasses I like and purchase it. At the end of the day, it’s really the little
things. I’d love to sign a lease that’s not week-to-week or month-to-month, or
drive a car. The big things matter, but it’s the little things that pop up
throughout the day.”

“What about the big things?”

“I’d love to travel and see the
world. He didn’t stop me from doing that directly, but it’s something I’d
rather do with someone. I’d rather share it—not necessarily with a man, friends
would be acceptable—but as you know Vicky and Kacy have lives and husbands of
their own.”

“Do you want to get married?”

“I do. What about you? Have you
been burned too badly?”

“I used to think so. I’m not so
sure anymore.”

“If it weren’t an issue, how many
kids would you have liked?”

“Maybe two… that seems like such
an insurmountable dream though, at least kids of my own. There are other
options, but I never was at a place in my life where I was secure enough or
felt the need to explore the options. Do you want more kids?”

“Maybe one. I’ve been blessed to
have Emily, but I’ve never been a full-time dad to her. The longest I’ve ever
had her at any one time is two months. I suspect being a full-time dad might be
very different. It’s not something I’m opposed to. In fact, I sometimes wonder
what it would be like. What about your dreams?” he asked gazing into her eyes.

“I dream about being happy. The
only place I’ve ever felt a true sense of happiness is at work. I feel truly
fulfilled when it comes to work.”

“When was the last time you felt
happy, and it didn’t have anything to do with work?”

“Not too long ago. You might be
surprised. This weekend, on the boat, I felt safer than I had in years. Being
surrounded by stunning natural beauty is always a recipe for happiness for me,”
Chella said as she looked at him and smiled.

And when I’m here… with you...

“What about you? What makes you
happy?”

“Being with Emily and my mom,
when she’s not antagonizing me. And of late, being with you.”

She blushed at his words,
“Really? In my mind, all I’ve brought you was stress, hospital visits, and
expensive fixes with a bunch of worrying on top.”

“When you take all that away you
know what’s left?”

“I presume you’re going to
enlighten me.”

“A huge heart, lots of love to
give. Not to mention you’re a kind, sweet, caring and selflessness soul.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.”

“I say it because it’s the truth.

The following day,
Chella and Mitch hoped the
police would call with some good news about Aaron but there were no viable
leads. On the third day, Detective Carter called to say there were sightings of
him in the Chula Vista area just north of the Mexican border, but none of them
panned out. He posed a flight risk, so immigration and border patrol were on the
lookout for him. If Aaron had skipped town, he would be away from Mitch and
Chella, but the fear would always be there. He could show up at any moment,
leaving Chella in the same position she was in a few weeks prior.

In the meantime, Chella’s health
improved. Most of the bumps and bruises had completely disappeared, the cuts
were healing nicely, and the swelling on her hand had gone down a bit. Mitch
routinely cleaned and replaced the bandages and started her on a bit of
exercise that would enable her to regain the flexibility she had prior to the
burns. She still occasionally had pain and headaches, but the painkillers took
care of that for the most part.

By Friday, five days after the
incident and four days after Aaron’s picture went public, not one lead had
panned out. Chella began to notice negative energy from Mitch. She wasn’t sure
if it was because they were cooped up in the house or Aaron not being found or
a combination of the two. He would usually spend some time at the gym in the
early morning then work from the den, but today, for the second day in a row,
he holed up in his room for the better part of the day.

She was starting to wonder if
this was about her. She wanted to talk to him about it, but she also wanted to
give him his space. Making him uncomfortable in his own home was the last thing
she wanted to do. She got out of bed and was about to go into the kitchen when
she spotted a large, flat box sat on the floor in front of her bedroom door. It
simply said, To Chella, From Mitch.

She picked up the box and took it
to the bed, deciding that it was too heavy to be any sort of clothing. Lifting
the lid, she smiled when she saw the logo. He had purchased her a laptop. She
opened another note inside.

It’s
all set up when you’re ready to get back to work.

The
software is installed,

and
all your old files are there.

Hope
you like it.

xoxox

Mitch

Maybe he wasn’t upset with her
after all. Perhaps it was the situation they were in, being locked in the
house. Either way she had to thank him. She headed to his room and knocked his
door. He answered, wearing his favorite outfit.