After pulling into the garage, I shut off the car. Stephanie’s red Prius was in the driveway. Would she notice something was wrong and mention it to Patrick? Keeping things from him was impossible. He had to know every single detail of my life. I had nothing of my own.
Before closing the garage door, I peered in the rearview mirror to see if they had followed me. What if Britney, Sophie, and Whitney showed up here and started a fight in front of Stephanie? How would I explain that?
After a few more seconds, I got out of the car. Even though my legs felt weighted down, I forced myself to step inside the house. As Stephanie headed down the foyer toward the laundry room with clothing basket in hand, she noticed me. Per usual she wore her brown hair back in a ponytail, wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt. Her big brown eyes widened as she stared at me.
“Do you need anything? Is everything okay?” she asked, trying to act as if nothing was unusual.
“Everything’s fine.” I shook my head. “You can take the rest of the day off if you’d like.”
Her stunned expression shouldn’t have come as a surprise. I was home early and telling her to leave. She had to know something was up. If I’d wanted to act as if everything was fine, then I shouldn’t have told her to leave. But I just wanted to be alone right now.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m positive.” I forced a smile.
“Okay. Well, I’ll just finish this up.” She gestured with a tilt of her head toward the laundry basket. Her ponytail swayed with the motion.
“That’s fine. Thanks, Stephanie.”
I was just glad that I’d have some time alone before Patrick arrived. Stephanie watched me as she walked into the laundry room. Suspicion covered her face. I knew she secretly wanted to ask me what was wrong. Luckily, she didn’t question me though. Once in the kitchen, I grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and chugged it. I should have gone for the wine.
“I’ll be off now,” Stephanie said as she emerged from the hallway.
Before I answered, the doorbell rang. We exchanged a look. Unannounced guests was a rare occurrence. Who the hell was here? I prayed that it wasn’t Britney and her bleached blonde underlings.
Stephanie headed toward the front door, but I hurried behind her. If it was Britney, I didn’t want Stephanie talking to her. As I neared the door, I caught a glimpse through the window sidelight. A man stood on the front stoop. He wore black slacks and a white shirt with a red tie. A salesman? How had he gotten past the security gate? I suppose I’d left them open in my absentmindedness.
The man pushed the bell again. Instead of answering, I darted to my left and practically tripped over the dining room table to get a better look at him. Did he have a car or had he been on foot? When I glanced to the left, I spotted the black Town Car parked just down the street from my house. Maybe I was just paranoid, but it looked as if that could be an undercover police officer’s vehicle. It was the type seen in the movies. That couldn’t be possible, right? Who was I kidding? With Britney anything was possible.
My panic spiked again. If this was the police, it was unlikely that he would go away easily. I wasn’t prepared for this. Why was he here? Dumb question. I knew why he was here. They’d found the man and traced it back to us. Britney said she would call the police. That bitch. She’d really gone through with it. Now I was freaking out. I was going to prison. Would Patrick even bother to hire a lawyer for me?
“Would you like me to open the door or wait until he goes away?” Stephanie asked with a stunned expression.
“Go ahead and open the door,” I said with my voice wavering.
Maybe Stephanie could call Patrick and let him know that I was on my way to jail. Not that he’d care. It would only bother him because he’d be embarrassed. Standing tall and pushing back my shoulders, I stood away from the door as she opened it.
“Good afternoon,” the man said. “Is this the Baxter residence?”
“Yes,” Stephanie said with suspicion in her voice.
“Is Alexsis Baxter home?” His gaze traveled over Stephanie’s shoulder and landed on me.
Stephanie cast a glance my way. After that look, there was no way to pretend my name wasn’t Alexsis Baxter. I might as well get this over with and speak with him. Deep down I knew this day would come.
When I stepped closer, he eyed me up and down. “Alexsis?”
“Yes.” My voice cracked.
“I’m Detective Brooks with the Los Angeles Police Department.” He flashed a shiny badge that glinted in the sunlight.
I almost told him that I’d been expecting him but stopped myself. I felt Stephanie’s stare. She needed to go immediately before she heard too much.
“What can I do for you, Detective Brooks?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
Though I knew my words had been less than convincing.
“Do you mind if I come inside?” He gestured.
His request sent a spike of terror through my body. Maybe that would be for the best. That way the neighbors wouldn’t see him put me in handcuffs as we stood on the front stoop. There would be a whole scene for the neighbors to watch when he brought me out and stuffed me into the back of the car. That would be plenty for them to watch. Much better than the time they watched as Patrick pulled me by the ponytail back into the house after a huge fight that had spilled out to the driveway.
“Please come in,” I said, motioning.
Stephanie looked at me with a combination of suspicion and shock. Perhaps she could make that phone call when the detective arrested me, but it was better if she left. The less she knew, the better. If she were here, she would undoubtedly eavesdrop.
“Thank you for everything, Stephanie. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.
This was her cue that she could leave. She shifted her attention to the detective again. I knew she wanted to find out why he was here.
After a few more seconds, she said, “Call if you need anything.”
She walked out of the house, closing the door behind her. Being alone with a stranger made me uneasy. The detective hadn’t waited for me to guide him into the living room. He stood by one of the built-in bookshelves, studying my wedding photo. A thirty thousand dollar Carolina Herrara dress for a beach wedding seemed responsible at the time. Detective Brooks must have sensed my presence because he turned to face me.
“Lovely photo,” Detective Brooks said.
“Thank you.” My voice was barely above a whisper.
“Have you been married long?” He scanned the room, not focusing on me when he asked the question.
I’d rather skip the small talk and get right to the point of his visit.
“We’ve been married four years.”
He nodded. “I’m still single.”
Good to know. His actions made me more nervous by the minute.
“So, detective, what can I do for you?” I pressed.
“Do you mind if I sit down?” He gestured toward the white sofa in the middle of the room.
I’d always wanted light colored furniture. The kind that looked as if not meant for sitting. The idea had probably come from my mother. She’d had many grand plans and ideas which would never come true. I felt responsible for her failures.
“Please, have a seat.” I motioned.