Take Me Home for Christmas

Staggering to her feet, she used the walls to steady herself as she made her way to the deck, down the stairs and across the yard to the guesthouse.

Only once she was safely home with the door locked behind her could she breathe easier. She didn’t have to work today. Because of the holiday, she had Friday and the weekend off. Hopefully during the next three days they’d both be able to forget that she’d raided the wine cellar.

* * *

Chief Stacy was in the grocery store. Sophia saw him from behind and quickly steered her cart one aisle over. She didn’t want him to see her; nor did she want to talk to him. Her headache had subsided and she felt much improved since she’d doctored her hangover. But she was in a hurry to purchase the things she needed so she could get out of there. Once she’d worked up the nerve to see Ted again, she’d offered to make dinner despite having the day off if he’d allow her to use his car, and he’d pulled away from his computer to get the keys out of his pocket. He’d tossed them over as if it was no big deal, but she couldn’t imagine Eve would be too thrilled to see her driving around town in his Lexus.

She thought she’d escaped Stacy’s notice. She’d already gone through the checkout line, loaded her groceries in the backseat and started the car when he came out of the store pushing his cart. But just as she was backing out, he thumped the side of the vehicle to let her know he was coming up alongside and motioned for her to roll down her window.

Sophia considered ignoring him. She hadn’t done anything wrong. As far as she was concerned, he had no right to detain her. But he was the chief of police. The power he held frightened her enough that she didn’t dare defy him.

“Is there something I can do for you?” she asked.

He glared down at her, making her glad she’d put on sunglasses. It wasn’t warm enough for shades. The clouds rolling across the sun promised rain—maybe snow later on if the temperature dropped. But her eyes were red from last night’s bender, so she’d taken the precaution of covering them. She’d learned, from her years with Skip, how to camouflage just about anything.

“I see you’re not going down without a fight,” he said, gesturing at the car.

“You must be sad that I still have some way to get around, since you were so eager to see me lose my own transportation.”

He spat on the blacktop. “Wasn’t my fault you lost that shiny Mercedes. You weren’t keeping up with the payments,” he added with a facetious tsk.

She glanced in the rearview mirror. There was nothing behind her. She wanted to go, but if Chief Stacy tried to stop her, his cart could scratch Ted’s car. She couldn’t let anything happen to the Lexus while it was in her possession. “What is it you want?”

“Besides what you owe me?”

“I don’t have any money. You know that.”

“You could get five grand for selling one of your eggs to a fertility clinic.”

She felt her mouth drop open. “One of my...eggs?”

“That’s right. A lot of women do it. It wouldn’t even take much time, wouldn’t interfere with your important position cleaning up after the big suspense writer. And think how happy you might make some young couple who can’t have a baby on their own.”

“I could make you happy, too, by giving up the money. Is that it?”

“Why not? Fair is fair. Then we could be better friends.”

“You’re crazy,” she said. “Get out of my way.”

“What’s crazy about doing whatever you can to make things right after squandering other people’s hard- earned money? I’ve never lived in the biggest mansion in town. I’ve never driven the fancy cars you and Skip drove. It’s time to pay the piper, Sophia.”

She clenched the steering wheel that much harder. “No fertility clinic would take one of my eggs.”

“Of course they would. Look at you. You were once the envy of Whiskey Creek. You’ve got great genes!”

“Do I? My mother has a mental illness, and my father died of cancer. I doubt my genes will be worth as much as you think.”

“Don’t give up before you try.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you the person who threw that rock through my window? Who vandalized my house?”

He conjured up an expression of mock innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about harassment. You’re harassing me—and if you don’t stop, there’ll be trouble.”

“Oh, yeah?” He quit pretending. “What can you do about it, huh? Who are you going to tell? No one will believe you over me.”

“You make me sick.”

“The feeling is mutual. Anyone who can walk away from the carnage your husband caused doesn’t have a conscience.”

“You’re a bully, no different from Connie Ruesch.”

“Connie who?”

“Never mind. This is the important part—I won’t put up with what you’re doing to me.”

“You have no choice. You pick a fight with me, you’ll lose.” Suddenly, he smiled and took a bottle of wine from his cart, then handed it to her through the window. She didn’t want it, but if she hadn’t taken it, she was fairly certain he would’ve dropped it in her lap.

“A token of my goodwill,” he said. “I know you’ll want to guzzle it the second I turn my back, but I wouldn’t advise it. DUIs are expensive.”

Laughing softly as if he was the cleverest man on earth, he wheeled his cart around and headed in the other direction, but not before calling back to her, “Look at the beautiful Sophia DeBussi. Broke. Alone. Despised.”

A chill rolled down Sophia’s spine. Those were the exact words on the note attached to the rock that had broken her window! Stunned that he had the nerve to admit that he was the one who’d vandalized her house, Sophia sat gaping at the wine he’d handed her. Obviously, on top of everything else, he was aware of her drinking problem. Word of that could’ve come from her in-laws, who’d told Agent Freeman. Or maybe Agent Freeman had mentioned it himself. He would’ve had no idea he couldn’t trust local law enforcement with that information.

“Stacy, you bastard.” She shifted her gaze to watch him in her side mirror—and it was all she could do to stop herself from getting out and throwing that bottle at his head.

* * *

Ted had a lot to do. He shouldn’t have been so focused on the fact that he’d missed coffee this morning, but he kept wondering if Eve had told everyone that they were no longer seeing each other. That they’d failed when they’d been so certain—or at least hopeful—had to be embarrassing for her. It was embarrassing for him. But what could he do? The further he got from last night’s conversation, and the commitment he’d made to the relationship before that, the freer he felt. They weren’t meant for each other. It would’ve been a huge mistake to keep forcing it. As illogical as it seemed, picking a mate based on character traits alone didn’t seem to be any more foolproof than letting his heart run amok. A certain amount of chemistry had to be present.

When someone knocked on the door, he assumed it was FedEx with the check he’d been expecting from his publisher. It required a signature, so he hurried down from his office. But there was no courier; instead, Kyle stood on his front porch.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” Ted greeted him.

Kyle looked him over. “You okay?”

He knew about Eve. Ted could tell. He’d expected to hear from someone. It wasn’t as if Eve could go to coffee without being asked where he was—which would lead to the inevitable “we’re no longer together” conversation. Maybe that was why he hadn’t been able to get his mind off his friends.

At least Kyle was the first to approach him. Kyle had tried to warn him not to get involved with Eve but,