The lack house Secret

Chapter 1..

"That stupid woman!" Jenessa Jones sputtered as she slid behind the wheel

of her compact car and slammed the door shut. "I can see I'm not getting that

job."

She jammed her key into the ignition and turned it. The engine of her twelve-

year-old Toyota moaned a few times, trying to turn over.

"No, no, no!" she screamed, banging the palm of her hand against the

steering wheel. "I don't need this today."

The blistering July sun of Central California made the inside of her car feel

like an oven. Her long, dark hair began sticking to the perspiration that trickled

down her neck and onto her white silk blouse. She rolled her windows down to

release the suffocating heat.

She had gone to the job interview dressed in her navy blue business suit,

hoping to make her best impression, but she could tell by the interviewer's

questions, and apparent lack of interest, that the woman was simply going

through the motions, like she had already made up her mind who she would hire.

Whispering a prayer and crossing her fingers, she tried the engine a couple

more times. Success! The engine finally roared to life and eventually settled into

a steady purr. Flicking on the air conditioner, switching the fan to the highest

speed, she pulled out of the parking lot to head for home.

Jenessa had been a reporter for a newspaper in Sacramento for the past five

years, that is, until almost nine weeks ago when her boss gave her the news that

the paper was forced to downsize and he was going to have to let her go.

"Sorry, but more people are finding their news online these days and it's

killing us," he had said.

Since getting the axe, she had sent out almost a hundred resumes and gone

on countless interviews but, to her dismay, there had been no job offers yet.

Reaching the point of desperation, she couldn't afford to be picky.

Although nabbing another job as a writer would be her first choice, at this

point she'd take a job as a secretary, a bank teller, or a store clerk if she had to.

Her bachelor's degree in journalism and her seven years of experience working

for newspapers were getting her nowhere. At this point, even waiting tables or

cleaning hotel rooms was not beneath her.

She'd already burned through the little bit of savings she'd had and was

running out of cash fast. The current month's rent was already a few days past

due, plus she was late on last month's—actually, she hadn't paid last month'srent at all.

To add to her misery, now her car was giving her trouble and there was no

money to repair it. It would be near impossible to go on any more interviews

without transportation.

She parked the car in the lot of her complex and climbed the outdoor stairs to

her third-floor apartment. As she approached, her portly apartment manager was

standing in front of her door in his t-shirt and shorts, taping a piece of paper to it.

"Mr. Morelli?"

He whipped around to face her, obviously startled by her unexpected

presence. "Hi there," he said, offering her a weak, rueful smile. "I'm really

sorry, Miss Jones, I have no choice but to give you a three-day notice of

eviction." He glanced back at the note he had attached to her front door and

motioned toward it.

"No, please…just a little more time," she pleaded. "I'm sure I'll have another

job soon."

"Sorry, but I have to do this, Jenessa—company policy. If it was up to me,

I'd keep carrying you a little longer, but I have to answer to the owners, you

know." He tapped a chubby finger on the notice a couple of times before

walking away. "You have three days—bring your rent current or you've got to

move out."

Jenessa pushed through the door and rushed inside, fighting back angry tears.

She was doing the best she could. Things just weren't going her way. In fact,

they seemed to be going from bad to worse. She wished she could talk to her

mother.

She peeled off her hot jacket and flung it over a chair. After kicking off her

shoes, she untucked her silk blouse that had stuck to her sweaty back and

plopped down on her old sofa, stretching her legs out and crossing them on the

coffee table. She sunk back, closed her eyes, and rested her head against the

cushion, hoping for some relief.

What was she going to do now? Perhaps her sister Sara could loan her some

money, or maybe Aunt Renee, although, she cringed at the thought of asking

either one of them.

After leaving home at seventeen, Jenessa had always been self-sufficient,

never asked anyone for anything. Her mother had insisted on paying her college

tuition and her father went along, but beyond that, she took care of herself. Now,

her life was in a downward spiral and she didn't know what to do to stop the

momentum.

She wished she could call her mom and cry on her shoulder, ask her what to

do, but her mother had passed away a couple of years earlier. Her father's face,stern and aloof, popped into her mind, but there was no way on earth she'd ever

ask him for help of any kind.

Her cell phone began to ring and she dug around in her purse until she found

it. "Hello."

"Jenessa, this is Aunt Renee."

Taken aback by the perfect timing, Jenessa took a moment to respond.

Maybe it was more than a coincidence that her aunt was calling. Maybe things

were finally going to turn around. "I was just thinking about you, Aunt Renee.

How are you?"

"Honey, I have some bad news."

Great! Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse. She squeezed her

eyes tight and steeled herself. "What is it?"

"It's your father, dear. He had a heart attack this morning and," she paused

and cleared her throat, but there was still a tightness in her voice as she

continued, "I'm afraid he's passed away."

Jenessa's mouth fell open. She wanted to say something, but no words would

come. She was frozen. She loved her father, the way all good daughters should

love the man they call Dad, but the two had become increasingly distant. For the

past twelve years they had been almost like strangers, even on the rare occasion

when she had gone home for a visit.

The last time she saw her father was at her mother's funeral, and even then,

he walled himself off from her. Tears blurred her vision now as she peered down

at the small framed photo of her parents that sat on her end table.

"Jenessa, did you hear me?"

Renee Giraldy was her father's younger sister. She lived in Hidden Valley,

where Jenessa's parents and younger sister, Sara, also lived, and where Jenessa

had gone to high school. Aunt Renee had been married three times, each time to

a man more wealthy than the one before.

Her last husband had died of a massive stroke while on a business trip in

Europe. She had once shared with Jenessa how much she regretted not having

been with him when he'd passed away. She rarely cared to go traipsing all over

Europe while he met with clients and suppliers—she had gone twice, and that

was enough.

"Yes, I heard you." Jenessa shook her head, trying to clear the daze. "Sorry, I

don't know what to say. It's such a shock."

"For me too, hon."

"What happened?"

"From what I've been able to gather, he was at his office working, dictating

to his secretary I believe, when he began to have chest pains and slumped over on his desk. She phoned nine-one-one, but it was too late."

Too late.

The words pressed down on Jenessa like an elephant sitting on her chest. She

struggled to suck in a deep breath. Reconciliation of any kind with her father

would be impossible now. Guilt rippled through her. Why hadn't she tried

harder?

Her father, David Jones, had been an attorney in Hidden Valley. He had

moved the family there from San Francisco to start up a new practice when

Jenessa was fifteen. She had been heartbroken, inconsolable, leaving her friends

and the home she had grown up in.

He had tried to comfort her, her sister too, telling them that he was doing it to

give his family a safer, better life in that small town, nestled in the central valley

of California. They would make new friends, he had promised, and they would

have a larger, nicer home than before. His sister Renee had lived there for years

and had often encouraged him to take a leap and move his family there.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Jenessa said. "He was always one to keep

things bottled up." Unfortunately, in that way, she took after him. "Perhaps the

stress got to be too much for him."

"You're probably right." Aunt Renee sniffled. "I know you and he didn't get

along all that well these last few years, Jen, but I know he loved you very

much."

"He sure had a funny way of showing it." Jenessa pinched her lips shut. She

hadn't meant to sound so cold and had blurted it out before her brain could filter

her response.

Aunt Renee's words had yanked up painful, buried feelings and the comment

had unexpectedly slipped out from a dark and wounded place. Jenessa was

instantly thrown back to the years her father had been cool and distant, ever

since she screwed up and made that one mistake—that one very big mistake—

when she was seventeen.

No matter how much she wished it, Jenessa couldn't pull her icy remark back

in. "I shouldn't have said that," was all she could offer.

"I understand, you're upset. We all are, hon. When can you come home?"

Aunt Renee asked.

Jenessa hadn't told anyone in her family that she had lost her job at the

paper. She'd hoped to get another before she ran out of money, before she

disappointed her father one more time.

She hadn't even told her best friend, Ramey St. John, who still lived in

Hidden Valley. She and Ramey had met in Spanish class after her family movedthere. They were in the same grade and became best friends."I can leave as soon as I get a bag packed." It was a two-hour drive down

Highway 99, assuming her old Toyota was up for the journey. "I'll call you

when I get close."

"Sara and Ramey will be glad to see you, hon, and so will I. Drive safely."

Ramey would be glad, but Jenessa doubted Sara would.

Jenessa hadn't visited her hometown very often after she'd left at seventeen,

but she did stay in contact with Ramey, and her sister too, somewhat. She and

Sara had been close until Jenessa left, but her sister had blamed her for the rift

between her and her father. She also blamed Jenessa for their mother's death.

But sweet Ramey was always there for her. Ramey had become more like

another sister than a friend to Jenessa. She had been raised by a single mother

who had become an alcoholic and a recreational drug user over the years,

making Ramey's home life miserable and sometimes dangerous. Jenessa often

invited Ramey to come and hang out at her house, to spend the night most

weekends, and the girl became like a third daughter in the family.

The thought of seeing Ramey again was a bright spot in an otherwise sad

situation. Sara? Well, she'd have to see how that went.

After changing out of her suit, and into a comfortable pair of jeans and a t-

shirt, Jenessa began packing. With no job and no way to make up the back rent,

she crammed all her clothes into suitcases and every other thing she wanted to

take with her into boxes.

She loaded her trunk and back seat with all the belongings she could fit,

carefully setting a framed picture of her mother on the front seat beside her

purse. The manager could have her old sofa, dining set, and well-worn bed—

Jenessa wasn't coming back.

She filled the car's tank with gas and made sure the radiator was topped up

with water before she hit the road. Relieved that her car started when she turned

the key, she looked over at the picture of her mother and brushed her fingers

gently over it. Her mother was of Mexican descent, and the photo drew attention

to her short dark hair and warm brown eyes.

Jenessa shot a glance to her own image in the rearview mirror and smiled—

she loved that she had her mother's espresso-colored hair. "I'm coming home,mamma"

....Chapter 2...

Over the next couple of hours, as she drove on the busy highway, Jenessa

thought about her father. As a child, she remembered thinking how tall and

strong he looked. He was six three, slender build, with dark blond hair and pale

green eyes. Aunt Renee had the same golden hair and green eyes, which had

been passed down to Sara, as well.

Though Jenessa had inherited her mother's beautiful dark hair, she had her

father's light eyes. When she was a little girl, her dad used to tell her they were

the color of her August birthstone, the peridot.

Flying down the highway, Jenessa's thoughts wrapped around memories of

their family trips to fun places in San Francisco—the aquarium in Golden Gate

Park, boating and fishing in the bay, and eating crab out of cups from the street

vendors at Fisherman's Wharf. David Jones had been a good father, and they

were a happy family—at least back in those days.

"Oh, Dad," she sighed, "why did we ever have to move to Hidden Valley?"

As she passed the second exit into Stockton, a chill rippled over her and she

fought back the tears that were beginning to blur her vision. It was at this spot on

the highway that her mother had died. The week after Christmas, her mom had

come to Sacramento to visit her and to bring her Christmas gifts. Jenessa had

gone to Hidden Valley for Thanksgiving that year, and it had not gone well with

her father, so she'd refused to come down for Christmas.

After staying a couple of days with her daughter, Lydia Jones had headed

back home. A thick fog had settled into the valley that afternoon and Jenessa's

mother ended up in the middle of a twenty-car pileup. The police report had said

she'd died immediately upon impact, her small SUV crushed between two semi-

trucks.

The news had devastated Jenessa. She was to blame. If she hadn't been so

stiff-necked, if she had given in to her mother's request to spend Christmas in

Hidden Valley, she would still be alive. If only she could turn the clock back and

undo it. But if she could do that, she would turn the clock back more than twelve

years and undo it all.

As soon as she'd received word of her mother's death, Jenessa had left work

and raced to Hidden Valley. She went to her parents' house first, expecting to

stay there, hoping to make amends with her father, but he didn't want her there.

He asked her to stay at Aunt Renee's house, which she did. Tonight, though, shewould stay at her family home, and he wouldn't be there to turn her away.

Why did he have to shun her and treat her like the bad girl? Sara did things

equally as bad—or worse—she just never got caught.

Her father's disappointment built a wall between them, bricks laid in place

with each harsh word, each disapproving glare. His behavior seemed warm and

caring toward Sara, and he treated Ramey like she was part of the family, but not

Jenessa, never her, not since she was seventeen.

For heaven's sake, it was just one mistake—why couldn't he have forgiven

me?

No longer able to contain the tears, they stormed down her cheeks.

*

Jenessa breathed deeply and dried her tears, but her mind continued to race

over the events of the past, including the few years she'd spent in Hidden Valley.

As she passed the city-limits sign coming into town, a siren blared behind her.

She glanced up into her rearview mirror and noticed a police car following her

closely with its blue-and-red lights flashing.

She pulled her car over to the side of the road. Had she been so deep in

thought that she hadn't noticed the drop in speed limit or how fast she was

going?

Pushing the button in the door, she rolled the two front windows down,

feeling the summer heat pour in from outside. She turned the engine off and

rummaged through the glove compartment for her insurance and registration,

fished her license out of her wallet, and waited for the officer.

"License, registration, and insurance, ma'am," a deep male voice said.

She handed them all over to him, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

"Your license says Jenessa Jones."

"That's right," she replied, looking up at him, shading her eyes with her

hand. The bright sun was just over his shoulder, making it hard to make out his

face.

The tall officer crouched down beside the car so his head was at window

level. "I used to know a Jenessa Jones in high school. Could that be you?"

Jenessa looked over at the man as he pulled his sunglasses off. He did look

vaguely familiar, but she hadn't been in high school for a long time, and

teenagers have a tendency to change as they grow up. Surely she would have

remembered someone as handsome as this guy if they had gone to school

together.

"I'm sorry, it's been a lot of years since I've seen anyone from high school.

You do look familiar, though," she said, more to be polite than anything else.

"What's your name?"

"Are you kidding? It's me, Michael Baxter."

"Michael?" She hoped her surprise didn't show. He didn't look like this in

high school. They had been friends, both of them working on the school

newspaper, but back then he was gangly and awkward with braces and pimples

all over his face. He wasn't as tall or as well built as he was now, that's for sure,

not to mention the clear skin and straight teeth. "I'm sorry I didn't recognize

you, you've changed so much."

"Well, you haven't. Pretty as ever."

"Not fair, you got to look at my driver's license."

"Fair enough, but I think I still would have recognized you. Those green eyes

are hard to forget."

Was he flirting with her?

"What's it been? Ten or twelve years?" he asked.

"Twelve."

"What are you doing back in town?"

"My dad just died." The words caught in her throat.

"Oh, man, I'm sorry to hear that. He seemed like a nice guy. Attorney in

town, right?"

"Yes, he was. Thanks for saying that, but I really need to get going. Are you

going to give me a ticket?"

"Since it's you, Jen, and you seem to have a pretty good reason for not

watching your speedometer, I'll let you off with a warning." His gaze met hers

and lingered for a moment. "I'd love to catch up while you're in town. Maybe

I'll see you around." He handed back her license and other items.

She accepted them and nodded. "Yeah, maybe."

He put a hand on the door, pulled himself up and walked back to his car. She

watched him in her side mirror. That was really her old high school friend

Michael Baxter? She rolled her windows up and turned on the air conditioner

full blast, wondering what he'd been doing with himself for all these years.

College no doubt, and obviously he became a policeman at some point.

The heaviness of regret settled on her, thinking about how she'd lost contact

with all of her friends from high school, all except Ramey. Since she couldn't

change what had happened and had no reason to return to Sacramento now, it

was best not to replay the past over and over in her mind. Her future, whatever it

would be, lay in the town straight ahead of her. Hidden Valley would be home

for now, and the thought that she might run into Michael again sometime spread

a hopeful smile across her face.

As promised, Jenessa phoned Aunt Renee to let her know she was almostthere. But before heading to her aunt's house she decided to stop by The Sweet

Spot, a popular bakery and café, to see if Ramey and Sara might still be there.

Ramey and Jenessa's mother had opened The Sweet Spot six years ago. Her

mother had gone to culinary school while her dad had begun his law practice in

San Francisco, before they started having babies. Her mother loved to bake and

became an expert pastry chef. She never worked for anyone else, but she would

whip up the most delicious treats for her husband's clients, filling gift baskets

with delectable goodies or making a fabulous cake for a partner's birthday.

Often people from the firm would ask her to make something spectacular for one

of their client parties, which she loved doing.

As Ramey spent more and more time at the Jones's house, Jenessa's mother

began teaching her about pastries, cakes, breads, and cookies. Jenessa and Sara

never seemed that interested in baking, so her mother was thrilled to share her

passion with Ramey.

After Ramey graduated from high school, and her alcoholic mother ran off

with her latest boyfriend, she and Jenessa's mother spent more and more time in

the kitchen. Eventually, they came up with the idea of opening a bakery together.

Her dad had tried his best to discourage them. He wasn't pleased that his

wife wanted to work, afraid the community would get the idea he wasn't able to

support his family—at least that's what her mother had told her. Eventually, he

gave in to their pleadings and The Sweet Spot Bakery and Café was born.

As Jenessa drove into town, she eyed the quaint stores and shops that lined

Main Street. Sure, there was a Costco and a Wal-Mart out by the freeway, not far

from the university, but downtown Hidden Valley was as pristine and charming

as she remembered it. The Sweet Spot sat on a corner with small tables and

chairs arranged outside under the pink-and-white striped awning with the name

printed in black script across it.

Jenessa pulled into a diagonal parking spot in front of the shop and went

inside.

"Oh, my gosh, Jenessa!" Ramey exclaimed with a broad smile, her blue eyes

wide and her red curls bouncing around her neck. She came around from behind

the counter and threw her arms around her friend. "I'm so glad to see you."

Ramey stood a couple of inches taller than Jenessa's slender five-foot-five-

inch frame and had a good twenty pounds on her.

Jenessa returned the hug. She had been so lonesome in the big city, trying to

make it on her own, that she almost didn't want to let go.

"Isn't it the worst thing in the world? Your dad passing away?" Ramey

gushed, her voice cracking with sadness. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Thank you, Ramey." Jenessa patted her friend's back. He had been like afather to Ramey, as well. "I know he thought of you as part of our family."

"Aww." Ramey released Jenessa and wiped a few tears from under her eyes,

then took a deep breath. "Well, we were just about to close for the day. Sara has

already gone over to Aunt Renee's. They're expecting you."

Sara had been doing the books for her mom and Ramey part-time after they

opened the business, but since her mother's passing, she had left her full-time

job to take a more active role in running the place.

"I was headed there next," Jenessa replied.

Like Jenessa, Sara had gone to college after high school, but she was

considerably more interested in boys and partying than she was in getting an

education. So, she'd decided after two years she'd had enough. She got her

Associates Degree in Business and called it good. She had worked as a bank

teller and then became the bookkeeper for a general contractor in the area. But

since her mother's death, The Sweet Spot had become her main focus.

"Why don't you start on over and I'll meet you all as soon as I'm done here."

Ramey lowered her voice. "I guess I should have closed the minute we got word,

but since I'm not really family, I thought I'd give them some time alone."

"You're just like family." Jenessa draped an arm around her friend again.

The little bells jingled as the front door opened and Ramey looked past

Jenessa to see the next customer. "Sorry, but we're about to close."

"I just wanted a coffee to go."

I know that voice. Jenessa stiffened and her heartbeat quickened. Hoping she

was wrong, she slowly turned around.

Standing before her was a tall, thirty-year-old man with wavy blond hair and

piercing blue eyes.

"Jenessa?"

She swallowed down the lump that had risen into her throat, seeing that his

broad shoulders and engaging smile were just as she had remembered them.

... CHAPTER 3. ...

"Logan."

It had been a long time since Jenessa had seen her old boyfriend and he had

grown into quite a handsome man.

He spread his arms out and stepped toward her.

She let him give her a quick hug, wondering if he could feel her stiffness.

She remembered the tears she had spilled on the drive down and hoped her

makeup wasn't smeared all down her face. It had been years since she had seen

him, and this was not the way she wanted to run into her ex again.

"I heard about your dad and I'm so sorry," Logan said.

"You already heard?" Ramey asked.

"He was my father's attorney," he replied, his brilliant blue eyes still on

Jenessa. "My dad phoned me a little while ago about it. I wondered if you'd be

back in town."

"You didn't think I'd come for my dad's funeral?" Jenessa snapped.

"Well, I know you two didn't exactly get along."

"No thanks to you," she huffed.

"You know, Ramey," Logan raised his gaze to the redhead, "I think I'll take

a rain check on that coffee." He backed toward the door, shifting his attention

again to Jenessa. "I am truly sorry about your dad." He turned and stepped

outside.

Jenessa watched through the large storefront windows as he walked down the

street and out of sight. That wasn't the way she had envisioned running into her

old flame. She had played the scene repeatedly in her mind over the years—what

she would say, what he would say, what she would be wearing and looking

fabulous in. Not that she wanted him back. Rather, she wanted him to want her

back, to feel some of the pain he had caused her back then.

It all seemed so silly now. They had been high school sweethearts, little more

than children at the time. She shook her head at the thought. He had obviously

moved on, probably dated a long string of gorgeous coeds in college and now

had some other lovely creature in his life.

"What was that about?" Ramey arched an eyebrow at her.

Jenessa turned away from the window. "I don't know. I didn't think I'd have

that reaction the first time I ran into him. Just hearing his voice somehowdredged up our dirty past."

"After all this time?""Yeah. Crazy, huh." Jenessa grimaced.

"Well, I'm sure he'll forget about it. Things will be better the next time you

see him."

She peered up into Ramey's smiling eyes. Her friend was always the

optimist. "Maybe."

Ramey walked back behind the counter. "I need to close up. Why don't you

head over to Aunt Renee's and let her know I'm right behind you."

Jenessa loved her aunt Renee. With her mother gone, Aunt Renee had tried to

step in as the buffer between Jenessa and her father whenever she could. But her

aunt was not all sugar, she could sometimes be rather spicy and a bit pushy,

believing she always knew what was best for everyone, and she wasn't shy about

letting them know.

Jenessa moved to the door. "Okay, see you over there."

*

Jenessa pulled into the long driveway in front of Aunt Renee's stately home

on Monte Vista Drive, a neighborhood overflowing with large and expensive

homes built in a bygone era. She rolled her windows down, and her little car

sputtered a few times after she turned the engine off. Parked in the shade of the

tall trees that divided the properties, she hoped there was nothing among the

boxed possessions in her old Toyota that would melt in the sizzling July heat.

She crossed the front lawn and stood before the two-story red brick Georgian

with its crisp white trim and black shutters. Almost as soon as she pushed the

doorbell, the wide black door swung open.

Her sister flung her arms around Jenessa and sobbed on her shoulder. "I'd

almost given up on you," Sara said. "What took you so long?"

"I'm happy to see you too," Jenessa responded.

"Come inside, girls," she could hear their aunt calling from somewhere

inside the house. "You're letting all the heat in".Sara stepped aside to let Jenessa in and followed her down the wide hallway.

Passing the grand staircase, they continued down the hall with its dark, polished

hardwood floors, an array of family photos and artwork strategically hung on

both sides. Aunt Renee sat on a barstool at the breakfast bar with a slab granite

countertop that enclosed half of the expansive, newly renovated kitchen.

As the girls approached, Aunt Renee slid off the stool and opened her arms

to Jenessa, pulling her into a firm embrace. Jenessa noticed Aunt Renee's lower

mascara was smudged a little and her pale green eyes were rimmed with red.

"I can't believe he's gone," her aunt said in little more than a whisper. Shereleased Jenessa and dabbed at the side of her eyes with a white handkerchief.

"I didn't know he had anything wrong with his heart. He seemed so healthy

to me." Although, Jenessa had to admit, she hadn't seen the man for quite some

time.

"He had a pretty stressful job," Sara said, "working for that Grey Alexander.

Seems like Daddy was always having to clean up his messes."

Daddy? Jenessa hadn't called him that since she was a kid, but then, he and

Sara had a different relationship than she'd had with her father. A twinge of

jealousy pricked her heart.

"It was a long drive," Jenessa said. "Mind if I freshen up?"

"Sure, sweetie, you know your way to the powder room." Aunt Renee

delicately blew her nose.

Jenessa closed the door to the half-bath and stood before the mirror. She had

spilled her tears for her father on the drive down and no more threatened to come

at the moment. She wondered if Ramey, Sara, and Aunt Renee might think she

didn't care—there was certainly no shortage of tears between the three of them.

Yes, she mourned her father's passing, but she also grieved for what could have

been between them. At the moment, she simply felt numb.

After drawing in a long breath, she exhaled slowly, feeling some of her stress

leaving with the air as it passed through her lips. She ran her fingers through her

hair, wiped clean the bit of mascara that had bled under her eyes, and applied a

fresh coat of lip gloss. The fading redness in the whites of her eyes made the

green more intense, particularly against her dark hair.

As she stared at herself in the mirror, she thought about her unexpected run-

in with Logan, but she quickly pushed him out of her thoughts. There was

grieving to be done, funeral plans to be made, and decisions to be mulled over

for what she would do with her future. Now was not the time to lament over lost

love.

By the time she emerged from the powder room, Ramey had arrived. She and

Sara were seated on the floral sofas in the great room with Aunt Renee, talking

quietly, surrounded by a wall of french doors and white-paned windows that

overlooked the garden and pool area. The room had been added to the rear of the

old house, off the new kitchen and breakfast area, in the latest remodeling

project, Jenessa assumed.

Ramey raised her head in Jenessa's direction as she walked in. "If you're

hungry, I brought some muffins and bagels that didn't sell today. They're still

fresh."

"Thanks." Jenessa grabbed a plump cinnamon bagel out of the paper bakery

bag and joined the others. She kicked off her flip-flops and tucked her feet underher as she dropped down onto a sage-green overstuffed chair nestled next to one

of the sofas. "Did anyone see Dad's body?"

"I did," Aunt Renee replied. "Since he was already gone when the

paramedics arrived, they took his body to the morgue. The medical examiner

recognized him and knew I was David's sister—his wife is on a couple of

charities with me—so he phoned me."

"What do we do now?" Sara asked, her eyes moist and red from crying.

"Does anyone know what Dad wanted, in terms of a funeral or cremation?"

Jenessa tore off a piece of marbled bagel and stuck it in her mouth.

"We hadn't talked about it," Aunt Renee said. "I assume he wrote his last

wishes down somewhere. Attorneys are like that, you know."

Jenessa swallowed and cleared her throat. "I'll look through his office at the

house."

"Are you staying there?" Sara asked.

"That was the plan."

"I thought you might want to stay here," Aunt Renee offered. "Are you sure

you want to be in that big old house all alone?"

"I think it'll do me good to go through his things. I'll see if I can find his

Will and his burial instructions."

"How long can you stay, Jenessa?" Ramey asked.

"As long as I need to."

"What about your job?" Sara asked. "Won't they expect you back after a few

days?"

Jenessa hesitated. She hadn't wanted to tell anyone, but now was as good a

time as any. "Not really. I got laid off a few weeks back. I've been job hunting,

but no luck yet."

"So the timing is perfect," Aunt Renee said. "I hope you'll stay in Hidden

Valley for a long time, hon. We've missed you. Haven't we girls?"

Ramey quickly agreed. Sara shrugged.

"And speaking of perfect timing," Ramey leaned over and patted Jenessa's

knee, "just last week I heard that the Hidden Valley Herald is looking for a

reporter. Maybe you should go down and apply."

She did need a job. Even though, career-wise, taking a position at a small-

town paper would be a step backward from the Sacramento job, her mother

always told her that beggars can't be choosers.

"Maybe I should wait a few days, until we work out the funeral arrangements

and all." Jenessa had hoped to settle in and get used to the small-town life again

before going out and trying to find another job.

"I wouldn't put it off," Aunt Renee countered. "The job could be gone bythen. If you're out of work, you need to strike while the iron's hot."

Beggars can't be choosers? Strike while the iron's hot? Where did the older

generation come up with all these sayings?

Jenessa pulled another piece of bagel off and chewed on it. She really

couldn't afford to be choosy. Earlier that morning she had been willing to clean

toilets for cash. How bad could a small-town newspaper be?

It would put some money in her bank account, which was in dire need of an

infusion, and maybe she could finally fix that bucket of bolts she drove. With her

family home empty now, she had a place to live rent-free, at least for a while.

This job, if they hired her, would give her time to think about what she might do

with the rest of her life.

With all eyes on her, eagerly awaiting her answer, she relented. "All right,

I'll go down and apply tomorrow."

"And you won't have to worry about running into Logan again," Ramey said.

"He works at his father's real estate office, not the newspaper."

Aunt Renee's eyes lit up. "Run into Logan again?"

"Tell us more," Sara chimed in, sounding more surprised than interested.

"When did you see Logan?"

"It was nothing, really." Jenessa didn't want to discuss Logan with them, or

with anyone for that matter. "He stopped by The Sweet Spot as Ramey was

closing up and then he left."

"Just like that?" Sara sounded like she didn't believe her sister.

Ramey leaned forward. "It was more like Jenessa ran him off."

"Oh, dear girl," Aunt Renee sighed. "You can't stay in this town and not run

into Logan Alexander. You'd better make peace with him or you'll surely make

yourself miserable."

Her aunt was right, but she didn't want to talk about it. Her initial reaction to

running into Logan was so visceral that it knocked her off balance, emotionally.

She hadn't meant to bite his head off. That wasn't how their first meeting was

supposed to go, at least not in the hundred times she had replayed it in her mind

during the first few years following their break up.

After a while she had managed to think of him less and less, until the last

couple of years she hadn't thought of him at all—until today. She'd have to

figure out a way to be in that man's presence without going ballistic.

"Can we pu-leeze change the subject?" Jenessa begged, popping the last ofthe bagel into her mouth.As the afternoon flowed into the early evening, Aunt Renee ordered take-out

from a local restaurant that specialized in fresh and organic food, requesting that

they deliver the meals, which was not their usual custom. But Renee Giraldy

could be convincing, and after promising a sizeable tip, her doorbell soon rang

with her delivery.

Sara and Ramey unpacked the food and set plates and glasses out on the

casual dining table between the kitchen and the great room. As Aunt Renee filled

a crystal pitcher with water and ice, Jenessa grabbed the napkins and utensils and

set the table. Each did their part and dinner came together like clockwork.

Jenessa enjoyed the meal with her family, something she had not done in a

very long time. Even though it was not under the best of circumstances, it felt

warm and comfortable—a far cry from the years of eating frozen meals out of

the microwave, alone in her apartment, sometimes consuming them over the

kitchen sink or grabbing bites while working on a story on her laptop.

She had concentrated on her education, and then on her work. She hadn't

taken the time to make many friends in Sacramento, even among her co-workers

at the newspaper, focusing more on her job as an investigative reporter. Working

her way up from covering weddings and social events, she had proven her ability

to write and to dig for the truth while producing compelling human-interest

stories.

And as pretty as she was, Jenessa had shied away from getting too deeply

involved in romantic relationships—not in college and not after. She had dated a

number of men over the years, but as soon as she noticed they were getting

serious, she found some way to demolish the relationship.

She had given her heart to one man, Logan Alexander, and it had turned into

a disaster. For her own emotional protection, whether purposely or

subconsciously, she protected herself from going through anything like that

again.

When she was seventeen, Jenessa had loved Logan so completely, so

intensely, she'd thought she might burn up and disappear in a cloud of smoke.

And he had loved her, or at least he'd said he did. But he broke her heart and

ruined her life, and she didn't ever want to feel that way again.

Coming home to Hidden Valley, would she finally be ready to open her heartto another man?

....... CHAPTER 4.......

Dinner was almost over. Aunt Renee brought another pitcher of ice water to

the table and offered to pour.

"No more for me," Jenessa said. She finished her Caesar salad with grilled

chicken and sourdough rolls and couldn't remember when anything had tasted so

good. "I should get going pretty soon. I want to go through Dad's desk and his

filing cabinet before I go to bed. Maybe I can find his funeral and burial

instructions."

Sara and Ramey decided they would stay over at Aunt Renee's so none of

them would have to be alone that night.

Ramey was single, having not married yet. Actually, she had hardly dated,

but she remained hopeful and optimistic. Jenessa always thought what Ramey

lacked in beauty she made up for in sweetness and charm.

At the moment, Sara was single too. She was usually kind, always beautiful

and carefree, blessed with dark honey-colored hair and familial soft green eyes,

looking more like Aunt Renee than she did her own mother. She was a little

shorter than Jenessa, with a slim, petite build.

Sara had married at twenty-one and, much to her parents' dismay, she was

divorced by twenty-three. In the last couple of years, she'd had a string of

boyfriends, but as far as Jenessa knew, none of them were serious.

Jenessa stood. "I think I should be going." She was looking forward to

staying the night, alone, at her parents' home. She didn't mind the solitude—she

was used to it. In fact, she was a little excited to get busy digging through her

Dad's office, hoping to find more than just his final wishes.

After saying her good-byes to the girls and giving hugs all around, she left

her aunt's home and drove her bucket of bolts to her parents' house. It was

located a couple of blocks from the high school, in a neighborhood of well-kept,

upscale, older homes. Although it didn't rival the grandeur of Aunt Renee's

neighborhood, it was beautiful nonetheless.

As Jenessa drove past her old school, she swore she saw a vision of herself

with Logan, sitting on the front steps, holding hands. He was wearing his

letterman jacket as the football team's star quarterback. The big fish in a small

pond.

The school had stood in that spot since the nineteen forties. It was two stories

of faded red brick with ornate detailing and beige stonework arching over the

main entrance, and it sat perched atop several rows of stone steps. There werebroad lawns out front, with tall evergreen trees, and in the center of the main

walkway to the heavy wooden front doors there was a circular fountain, with

thick masonry for seating.

Her family had moved to Hidden Valley at the beginning of her sophomore

year, which felt like a lifetime ago now. Although she had noticed Logan not

long after changing to her new school—he was hard to miss—they hadn't begun

dating until the fall of her junior year. He was a grade ahead of her in school and

would be graduating, then heading off to college on a football scholarship.

She had been busy working on the school newspaper, realizing early on how

much she enjoyed writing and pursuing a story. It was that year that she decided

to major in journalism when she went to college.

In the spring, he asked her to the prom. It was like a fairytale. Her mother

had taken her to the city a few weeks before the dance and they had shopped for

just the right gown, a strapless number, pale pink and flowing. Mom had paid for

Jenessa to have her hair done, swept up with curls cascading down the back and

a few wispy tendrils falling loosely around her face. Logan showed up to her

house, handsomely dressed in a black tuxedo and bow tie with a gorgeous

corsage of deep pink roses for her wrist.

Her mother had the camera out and was all smiles as she excitedly insisted

on several photos of the couple before she would let them leave. Jenessa

remembered her father had stood in the background, watching quietly.

The memory dissolved as she reached her old home and pulled into the

driveway. The house was English Tudor style and had been built not long after

the high school. Before her parents acquired it, the previous owners had done a

total updating of the kitchen and bathrooms, even going as far as having all of

the hardwood floors beautifully refinished.

She recalled the day they'd moved in, her father smugly commenting that it

was a fitting home for a successful attorney. That phrase always stuck with her

—a fitting home.

After turning her key in the lock, she pushed the quaint arched-top door

open. It was midsummer, so the sun would not be setting for another hour or so

and she was glad for the light that streamed in the windows, not to mention

thankful the air conditioning was on.

Jenessa dragged her suitcase and carry-on bag up the stairs to her old

bedroom. It was just the way she had left it the last time she was there, except

for the layer of dust. When her mother was alive, she dusted and vacuumed and

put fresh sheets on the bed when her daughter was coming home for a visit. It

was clear no one had set foot in this room since her death.

After retrieving a clean set of sheets from the hall linen closet, Jenessa setabout making up the bed. As for the dusting and vacuuming, she decided she'd

leave them for the morning. She was anxious to get to her father's office

downstairs and start going through his papers. The thought of it brought a

surprising rush of tears.

She slunk down onto her bed and wiped them away with her fingers. Her dad

was gone. The finality of it saddened her. There would be no more

confrontations, no more cold shoulders, and no more chances to make amends.

The sun had almost set by the time she came downstairs. She flicked on a

few lights as she meandered through the house, coming to rest at her father's

large antique desk. An eerie sensation rippled over her, like she was sitting there

without his permission and somehow he would know.

Jenessa shuddered and shook off the feeling. She pulled out one of the deep

side drawers and rummaged through it, peering into the folders and hanging

files. Then she searched the second drawer. Nothing of value there.

She tugged on the center lap drawer, but it was locked. She glanced around.

Where was the key?

It hadn't occurred to her before, but she wondered now where his personal

effects were—his clothes, his wallet, his keys. Was his car still parked in the lot

next to his law office?

She made a notation on a yellow sticky note to find out about these things

first thing in the morning. Perhaps Aunt Renee had recovered them when she

went down to the coroner's office.

There were several small, framed photos set on the corner of his desk. One

had the entire family, before they'd relocated to Hidden Valley. The other two

were individual school pictures of her and her sister after their move. She was a

little surprised to see her picture there among the others. Had he really wanted to

see her face every day?

She half-expected to see Ramey's photo on his desk as well, but no.

Next, she turned her attention to the four-drawer file cabinet that sat in the

corner, to the right of the large window that held a view of the manicured

backyard. She painstakingly went through the top two drawers, file by file, page

by page, but no luck.

It was getting late and she was ready to turn in for the night. Exhausted,

Jenessa dropped down into her father's executive chair again and her gaze

floated around the room. She leaned back against the black leather and picked up

the faint scent of his aftershave. Then, she ran her hands over his leather desk

blotter. He had spent so many hours in this room and she sensed his presence.

Tears moistened her eyes once more, then trickled down her cheeks. She

would never see his face again, or have the opportunity to make right what hadgone so terribly wrong. With her head in her hands she sat in his office and

sobbed.

When no more tears came, she flicked the desk lamp off and walked out.

After turning off all the lights in the house, except in the central hallway, she

slowly climbed the stairs to her room. Tomorrow she would tackle the other two

drawers in the office, but first she had to apply for the reporter job and check on

her father's personal effects.

After stripping out of her clothes and tugging a short nightgown over her

head, she pulled off her watch and gold hoop earrings, opening the top drawer of

her dresser to store them. Something scraped along the drawer as she opened it.

That's odd. Sticking her hand into the far back and upper part of the drawer,

her fingers touched what felt like a stiff piece of paper. She worked it loose,

trying not to rip it, and pulled it out.

A knot grew in her throat as she turned it over and saw what it was. She

could hardly swallow. The hidden paper was a picture of her and Logan on prom

night, one of the photos her mother had taken. She thought she had destroyed

those photos, along with anything else that reminded her of him.

How long had that picture been wedged at the back of that drawer? She

threw the photo back in the drawer and slammed it shut. She should have thrown

it in the trash, but it had survived this many years, one more day wouldn't

matter.

She pulled the covers back, clicked off the lamp, and climbed in bed.

Exhaling a long breath, she laid back against her pillow. Closing her eyes, she

hoped for sleep.

Why did she have to find that photo of Logan right before she went to bed?

All it did was get her blood boiling. She pulled the blankets over her head and let

out a long, loud sigh.

She had tried for the last twelve years to forget that pompous, self-centered,

sorry-excuse-for-a-man. Now, she would probably dream about him.