Deep in the Alaskan Woods Page 2

  This proved that dating one’s boss could cause all kinds of complications. But she’d promised herself one thing: if Lyle harassed her or hurt her again—she had big, purple bruises on her left upper thigh and both arms—she would file for a restraining order, however upset he became at his precious reputation being sullied.

  She was grateful she’d already planned to leave Spenser with her neighbor Charlene, who kept the dog during the long days Alex worked and made sure he got his walks and food. She’d hugged him when she’d dropped him off two doors down. Poor little guy, abused by his original owner so badly he’d lost an eye. Strange, but thinking of that was even more painful to her now than ever.

  At each stoplight, Alex glanced at the cars behind and beside her. During her early lunch break, she planned to run home to meet the guy from the hardware store who was going to change the locks on her front door and back gate. Late last night she’d left a message at his number, stressing that the job and the timing were very important. Her mind had wandered, tormenting her, and she’d hardly slept at all...locking her doors...locking her heart away...locking her life to stay safe.

  * * *

  “Good morning,” she said cheerily to the office manager, the perky Joan, even though Alex felt—and looked—anything but the way she sounded.

  “Hey! Your fave doc’s back in town, I guess,” Joan said with a big smile and a lift of her eyebrows. “Seen the illustrious Dr. Grayson yet?”

  “Briefly. He was really jet-lagged. He said he wasn’t coming in today. You haven’t heard anything different, have you?”

  “Anything new with you?”

  Alex shook her head and forced as smile. She considered Joan a workplace friend, though that was probably over now since Joan’s loyalty had to be to Lyle and the other vets.

  “Do you think I could get my check before my break instead of at the end of the day?” Alex asked. Her stomach was churning. She should have had more than coffee for breakfast. “I’ve got some bills coming due,” she added.

  “Hey, what you want is what you get around here.” She flipped her long blond hair back and hummed “Here Comes the Bride.” “I can get it for you in a little bit. So, are you still going to work here after the big day?”

  “Got to keep busy, right?” Alex countered.

  She’d decided not to tell anyone what had happened, and she wasn’t sure Lyle would when he came in. If she did leave the area, would Lyle follow her? Make life miserable? Where would she go? Maybe her father could get her a job in England, but could she take Spenser? She could try to become someone’s virtual assistant and work from home, balance that with her Natural Beauty business. But she knew it cost her parents dearly to live abroad, however good Dad’s salary was, and she couldn’t afford that or sponge off them.

  She soon got caught up in the rush of caring for her feline and canine patients. Vet techs were charged with prepping the animals for surgery, carefully calibrating their meds and anesthetics and restraining them before and after treatments or surgery. You never knew what someone’s pet would do when it was in pain or came to after anesthesia wore off, so the work was intense and could be dangerous. Post-op she’d been bitten on the back of her head by a German shepherd once and the pain had been bad—about as bad as her head felt right now.

  Thankfully, Lyle did not come in as the morning wore on. More coffee and two doughnuts kept her going. At least she never seemed to gain weight from what she ate. Maybe another good thing from a hectic schedule and dog walking. Lyle had teased it was from strenuous sex. Oh, why did she have to think of that now? Even the way he touched her should have tipped her off to his tendency to dominate and control.

  At her late-morning break, which she’d combined with her lunchtime, she tore out to her car to rush home to oversee the changing of her locks. But her car would not start when it had always purred to life so easily. It just made a grinding sound and would not turn over. She got out and looked around the parking lot. Nothing unusual. No one but pet owners going or coming with animals in their arms or on leashes.

  Her stomach cramped. She got back in the car and called her auto service and requested they haul her car to the nearest garage. She left her car keys with Joan, then called an Uber to get home.

  She made it just as the locksmith was pulling in. As far as she could tell, Lyle or his car were nowhere around, but she couldn’t help the feeling she was being watched. Watched, wanted but hated.

  * * *

  “You got a problem with break-ins or something like that?” Jack, the locksmith, asked as he finished up the lock to her front door after changing the one on the tall back gate. She’d hastily swept and piled up the remnants of her plants this morning. “Remember, you got a slide bolt that will help if you’re inside.”

  “Yes, thanks. Just thought this was a good idea, too.”

  He was tall, strapping and blond, very friendly and chatty. Nervous, she stood watching him work. She kept her purse tight under her arm. It had what would be her last two-week paycheck in it, the mace—and photos of her and Lyle she planned to destroy.

  She stepped away as Jack worked and she called the auto service again to check on the status of her car, hoping it was something random, not that it had been tampered with by someone who knew exactly where it would be parked.

  “Don’t know how it happened, ma’am,” the garage mechanic told her on the phone. “A couple of leads from the spark plugs had been pulled out. They’re right under the hood, but I guess you didn’t know how to look for them. An easy fix this time.”

  This time, she thought. But the mess she was in was hardly an easy fix.

  As she paid Jack and he handed her the new keys, Lyle wheeled up in his black Lexus. Her insides twisted. She stayed close to Jack. Lyle got out, slammed his car door and strode toward them.

  “You’re supposed to be at work!” he shouted.

  “It was a challenge to keep this appointment during my early lunch break since someone disabled my car. I called Joan to tell her I wouldn’t be back—today, I mean.”

  “And this is?” he asked, glaring at Jack.

  She was so angry and distraught that she almost gave him a flip answer. Meanwhile, Jack took a step toward Lyle and asked, “You okay with this guy, Ms. Collister?”

  “Lyle, please leave,” she said with a nod. “What I said last night stands. And I’m tendering my resignation at the clinic. It’s on your desk, though I went in today so they weren’t one tech short for surgery. I hope you are rested up and more reasonable now.”

  “Reasonable? You owe me a hell of a lot more than a car and a thirty-thousand-dollar engagement ring!”

  Jack put in, “You need to call for help, ma’am?”

  “Just butt out of this,” Lyle insisted, though he stood his ground away from them when she was sure he would have assaulted her if she were alone. Actually, he had done that last night, throwing her down on her couch and ramming her legs apart, which, thank heavens, hadn’t gone further.

  “Thank you, Jack,” she said, her voice shaking. “And in case you need to know later, perhaps to have the name of this man, he is Dr. Lyle Grayson, a veterinarian here in town.” Praying Lyle—this man she thought she knew—did not have a gun or knife, she punched in 9-1-1 herself but did not send it. “Lyle, please leave and stay away from me, or I will get an officer here and a court restraining order. Jack, I’m sorry you were caught up in this.”

  “Caught up in this?” Lyle shouted as Charlene came out with Spenser in her arms and set him down so he darted straight for Alex, yipping. “You’re the one who caught me. Tricked me. You obviously don’t give a damn, and I intend to see you pay me back for everything I’ve done and given you!”

  “Like this public embarrassment?” she shot back as she scooped up her barking dog before Lyle could get to him. “Like tampering with my car and ruining my property last night? I’m pho
ning the police now and a lawyer next if you don’t leave immediately and leave me alone for good. I apologize to the possible two future witnesses who had to hear all this,” she added, nodding toward Jack and Charlene.

  “Yeah, witnesses, both of us,” Jack put in.

  Alex could have cried. She was embarrassed but so grateful for the kindness of this stranger. She didn’t believe for one minute that any of this was going to make Lyle back off, though. She had seen him now for what he was. Fairy-tale princes and a happily-ever-after didn’t exist anymore—and maybe never had.

  * * *

  She called her parents that night and explained, assuring them that Lyle had stamped off and she hadn’t heard from him again. They sounded devastated and concerned.

  “You leave Spenser with that friend of yours, hop on a plane and come to us,” her father ordered. “I’ll reimburse you for the ticket, and we’ll have a good time so you can forget that bastard.”

  “Thank you so much, but what I need is time and a new job, but not far away, at least not that far. Besides, it would be just like him to know where I’d run to, come there and ruin things for all of us.”

  “You get that restraining order,” her mother said. “I was reading People magazine over here and one of those ingenue actress types got one—it’s called a TRO, a temporary restraining order, and if the offending party breaks it they can pay a fine or even get jail time.”

  “I told him I’d do that, and he hardly blinked. I’ve got my car back now, and this town house is locked up as tight as Fort Knox.”

  “With our precious girl inside,” her mother put in, and Alex heard her sniffle, then blow her nose.

  Alex was glad she was using the phone right now rather than FaceTime because she couldn’t bear to look at their worried faces, nor did she want them to see her tears. Her choked-up voice was a dead giveaway, anyhow.

  “I’ll call you back when I decide what I’m going to do. I do want to get away for a while, but not somewhere Lyle would know about. I’ll let you know as soon as I figure it all out.”

  And when would that be? she wondered as they said goodbye, not before they once more tried to persuade her to come “over the pond.”

  “Over the pond,” she whispered to herself as she flipped open a scrapbook with pictures from when she’d first visited them there. The three of them smiling in front of Windsor Castle with the Coldstream Guards marching behind them. That’s what she needed—a thick-walled castle and guards.

  A photo fell from the album, a much older picture. It was her with her twin cousins, Megan and Suzanne, when they were all about ten. It was taken in Alaska where the twins’ grandmother they did not share had lived in a rustic lodge. Falls Lake Lodge, the sign read. Ah, to be lost right now, on the distant side of a wilderness lake, protected by those towering pines, and lodged in that sprawling inn, safely far away.

  But she was almost estranged from her cousins now. After she’d learned about her family’s tragedy, which her mother and father had kept from her for years, she couldn’t bear to be with her cousins anymore. She had never explained to them why she had pretty much cut off communication.

  Leaving Spenser sleeping on the sofa, she went into the bathroom. She leaned her hands on the sink and stared into the mirror as she had so often after she’d first learned of the tragedy. Just to think, she was an identical twin, just like her two cousins.

  She met her own eyes in the mirror and saw the ghost again—herself. Or was it Allison? How she wished she could confer with her sister. Maybe then she wouldn’t suddenly be so afraid. How the loss of her twin she never knew still haunted her.

  Years ago, she’d read up about the “vanishing twin syndrome.” Her mother had named both of them when they were in the womb. Then at her next ultrasound, they discovered Allie had just vanished without a miscarriage. Some of the speculative medical literature Alex had poured over sent her into counseling for survivor’s guilt, since it was thought the stronger survivor had just absorbed the lost fetus. Had she killed Allie? Was she with her, in her? Was she really two people?

  She sometimes imagined what Allie would be like, even talked to her. When she looked in a mirror like this, was her identical twin staring back, blond and blue-eyed? All that was the reason she had cut off her cousins, because Suze and Meg’s close relationship hurt too much.

  But the two sisters had tried to keep in touch. And now—now, Alex had an idea where she could go.

  3

  Although Alex still felt panicked, she was panicked now with a purpose. What if her cousins wanted nothing to do with her, since she’d more or less cut ties? They’d asked her out to visit long ago, and she’d turned them down. The only contact she’d kept up was to send a Christmas card. Should she just blurt out the mess she was in, or only ask if she could visit, then make her plea once she arrived?

  She’d look for the lodge’s website. If worse came to worst, she could just make a reservation there for a few days and try to mend—or build—bridges, before finding somewhere to stay longer term. With her parents in the UK, Suze and Meg were the closest, though distant, family she had.

  The good news was that Alaska was far away, and she had never shared anything about the twins with Lyle. He didn’t know about her lost twin, either. The bad news was she’d need to drive there to take Spenser, some possessions and her products to sell, so she’d have to get a sturdy vehicle a lot larger than her little sports car.

  But first things first.

  Alex sobbed when she found the website for the Falls Lake Lodge online with its stunning pictures of rustic accommodations. The exterior and interior wooden walls of the lodge were just as she remembered, though the furnishings were updated and improved. Still over the big fireplace in the common room was that moose head with a massive rack of antlers staring down on the seating and tables. The three of them used to joke that the moose was watching them wherever they walked in that large common room.

  Oh, and a picture of a typical bedroom looked so cozy with a patchwork quilt for a bedspread and one on the wall like a piece of art. Next to it hung a lovely painting of distant, snowcapped mountains with a waterfall feeding a lake beneath—just like Falls Lake itself. She wondered if Suze had painted that. Even as a child, she was talented. The art on the Christmas card she received from them each year was always a photo of an original signed by her. Alex also studied the big bedroom window with its view of rain forest trees. How she wished she could spirit herself and Spenser away to the lodge right now.

  But what if they didn’t allow guests to bring pets?

  Through her tears, she studied again the photo of the smiling Meg and Suze near the “Click here for reservations” button. Other than different hairstyles, they greatly resembled each other. They were both in their early thirties, so would they even go by those childhood names anymore? They’d signed their Christmas card with their full first names. Megan’s last name wasn’t even Collister anymore but Metzler. She had married young and lost her husband when the bush plane he was piloting went down not far from Falls Lake. Alex had sent a condolence card and letter when she learned about it months late. Meg had a son, Charles, called Chip, who must be around five or six now.

  Several years ago, after inheriting their maternal grandmother’s lodge, the twins had decided to run it together, like a B and B, though they didn’t want to change the name. Maybe she could help them at the lodge, even if it was to clean rooms or serve food. Thank heavens it was late July, so the big winter snows they’d sent pictures of in some of their holiday greetings would not set in for a while.

  She noticed, at the very bottom of the website, a message: Our thanks to Quinn Mantell for his help in bringing the outside world to Falls Lake. Be sure to watch Tracker Q-Man on the Wilds TV Cable Network, filmed in our amazing area of Alaska.

  And next to that was a picture of a smiling, handsome, dark-haired man with a trim
med beard in black jeans and plaid flannel shirt—dress Stewart pattern, no less—framed by a fir tree with a waterfall and the mountains behind him. Funny, but looking at Quinn Mantell, she could almost smell sharp pine and fresh, crisp air.

  Hands trembling, she called the phone number for reservations.

  “Falls Lake Lodge,” came a clear female voice. “We are forty miles north of Anchorage so we can offer city life and the wonderful wilderness. The town of Falls Lake recently put in cell phone towers, so we have the amenities of the modern world in the middle of the scenic, eternal wilds. How can I help you?”

  Alex panicked again. Was that a recording? If not, she couldn’t even place the voice. Megan’s? Suzanne’s? Someone who worked for them?

  Alex knew she didn’t sound like herself. She was nasal, shaky, as she said, “Hello. This is Alexandra Collister in Illinois and—”

  A gasp. A shout. “Suze, it’s Cousin Alex! Suze, come here! How the heck are you, girl? Are you all right? Any big news?”

  Alex couldn’t help it, but she burst into tears and barely managed to get out, “It is so, so good to hear your voice. Yes, some big news, kind of bad news, but...”

  “You can tell us, hon! Blood is thicker than water, remember! Here, Suze, say hi to our long-lost Alex,” Meg said, and evidently thrust the phone at her sister.

  “This is Suze. Are you okay? Long time no hear and see! We can’t get away, but you want to come for a visit? What’s happening?”