The Event

By Jean Spenst

Shortly after newly expecting young mother Sara Miller moves into her new home, strange things begin to happen. Her husband, Joe, is murdered, and his many hidden secrets come to light as the police look into his life. He wasnt the man he seemed to be.
As Sara struggles to move on, some unexpected secrets of her own come to light.
Why did Sara have to move? What was Joe hiding? With Joe gone, can Sara finally find true happiness?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 30, 2015
• ISBN: 9781514427187

Jean Spenst

Jean Spenst lives in Calgary with her husband and has three grown children. She has written The Community, and now The Event. The Community Part Two is next. Watch out for it. Watch many more exciting things happening for this writer.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

T HE SUN RADIATED off the blacktop. It was humid and windless as the murkiness of the morning fog dissipated. A taxi travelling slowly but steadily stopped at the end of a narrow drive that faced a tan two-story house surrounded by an abundance of oak trees and old buildings.

The cab driver, a fatherly type in his late fifties, emerged from the blue and white Chrysler, his dark eyes full of concern for his passenger as he opened her door. Here we are. Let me get your suitcases.

Sara Miller was in her mid-twenties and had a slender build with a small bulge in her belly to announce her pregnancy. She stood just over five feet five inches with long ash-blonde hair, sad greenish blue eyes, and pale, puffy facial features. While the cabbie got her suitcases from the trunk, she unlocked the house she would now live in. Lemon-scented cleaner lingered in the air. She paid the man and gave him a tip. Before he turned to leave, he asked, Will you be okay?

Sara smiled at him. Yes, thank you. The man hesitated before he left, and as the door shut behind him, the latch echoed noisily. Sara looked around. It was exactly what she had seen pictured in a gardening magazine a year ago—so peaceful, with abundant trees and paths for walking. Sara’s husband, Joe, decided she should live on an acreage while their condo underwent renovations after a recent fire. She wasn’t happy he’d sent her away but was grateful for the much-needed break.

Her thoughts travelled to the day she’d met Joe. The first thing she’d noticed about him was his model-like good looks. Standing at well over six feet tall, he was lean and athletic, with sapphire eyes and neatly trimmed full golden brown hair. A faded half-inch scar on his chin from chicken pox was the only sign of imperfection.

She was frustrated with him lately. In the three years since they’d married, he’d become overbearing, jealous, and controlling, and he refused to let her work—it was as if she were his slave. Every time she went out, she had to phone him continually to let him know where she was and how long she would be. When he talked to her, she felt like a child.

Before she left, he’d been moody. She didn’t dare ask what the problem was. At times he was furious and she feared he would strike her—he’d come close once. It was scary when he got like that, so she would leave the room or go for a walk. He was also spending more time at his office. He’d recently been promoted to upper management and needed time to adjust to the new position. She sensed he was distracted and hadn’t figured out what the reasons were.

Sara walked out the back door and surveyed the open yard. The paint on the outside of the house was riddled with thin cracks, like fine strands of thread on an electric loom. In the still of the bright day, she could see a few cobwebs dangling from the corners of the dusty windows. There was something oddly familiar about the yard, the house—but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

She re-entered the house and inhaled the lingering lemon scent. She liked the smell. The combination kitchen and dining room was spacious and had updated appliances but no dishwasher. The laminate flooring shone in the bright sunlight, warming the interior as mid-morning arrived. The walls were painted a pale yellow and the windows were decorated with chocolate-brown curtains. The colours were earthy but definitely not to her taste.

Sara moved around the room, looking in the sturdy oak cupboards to find that they were well stocked with soups, pastas, and a variety of other staples typical of a small pantry. She opened the fridge and found it well stocked too.

A closed door stood to the left of the stove. As she stepped into the room, a light automatically flicked on. The large room held an apartment-sized washer and dryer set, a small freezer, a hot water tank, and a few boxes. There were four shelves laden with smaller appliances and pots and pans. The light shut off as the door quietly clicked closed behind her.

Sara looked out the window above the sink. The view was beautiful, with mature leafy trees and lush grass. The sky was a perfect baby blue. So calming. A huge tire was tied to a rope hanging from the massive branch of an ancient oak tree. The rope was as thick as the muscles on a bodybuilder. She remembered a tire swing from her childhood, recalled the laughter, but it was a fleeting thought.

After Sara finished inspecting the main floor, she climbed the stairs. As she reached the second-floor landing, she could see a master bedroom on the right and two smaller bedrooms on the left. She explored the closest spare bedroom. Its bed was covered in a coral bedspread embedded with faded orange roses, with a plain coral bed skirt hiding the box spring. The curtains were the same shade as the bedding, although they had faded over time. She moved to the window and looked out at a big hill about half a mile away. It was steep and void of trees, the entire hillside covered with brown and black patches. It was an odd sight, reminding her of a checkerboard.

She left the first bedroom and looked into the empty second room. It was bright and warm, with a feeling of security. It would make a cozy nursery.

She moved to the master bedroom, which was as big as the two smaller rooms combined, and noticed two glass doors leading to a veranda. What a unique idea. She loved reading outside in the shade on a warm day. The two loungers and the small table were perfect.

Sara could hear something gently banging in the slight breeze and looked down. She blinked, thinking her eyes were playing tricks on her. A shiny object was wedged between two slats of the wooden flooring. She crouched down and saw it was caught on a splinter of wood. She tried to put her finger into the space where the item was dangling, but her finger was too big for the confined space. Her pinkie was a little better, but she would need both to work out the mystery object. Coordination wasn’t her strong suit.

She stood and went back into the bedroom to search the dresser drawers for something she could use as a tool. All were empty but the last one. It held an assortment of many things: old papers, pictures, greeting cards, a child’s reading book, and a Turtles box. As she lifted the box’s lid, the sweet smell of chocolate escaped, but the chocolate had been replaced with buttons, safety pins, thread, and a pair of tweezers that would do the trick. She grabbed the tweezers, put the lid back on the box, and shut the drawer.

Sara snagged the silver chain with the tweezers, pulled upwards, and palmed the attached heart-shaped silver locket. Her fingers tingled and her palms itched with anticipation. She couldn’t wait to see what was inside; she loved mysteries and needed to keep herself amused.

She held the locket between her two fingers and used the end of her nail to click it open, revealing a picture of a baby dressed in pink. Sara closed the locket, placed the necklace in her pocket, and didn’t give the picture a second thought.

Maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad after all. There would be lots of free time to explore her new residence, and the peace and quiet were great. For once, Joe may have made a good decision.

Worn out from the drive, Sara was light-headed and felt as if she were going to be sick. Being pregnant wasn’t easy. The morning sickness was tirelessly hanging on. She decided to relax for a few minutes and lay down on the master bed. As darkness tugged at her, her eyes closed.

Sara dreamt of a lanky man pushing a little girl on a tire swing. The little girl smiled and laughed. Sara saw her mirror image in the young girl.

The same man, facing her, sat at a table eating a sandwich. He glanced in her direction and smiled sadly at her. He looked lonely and lost.

Awakened suddenly, she yawned and then heard a knock on the door downstairs. She wondered who it was as she had just arrived and didn’t know anyone in the area. Only one way to find out.

She felt refreshed but still queasy, so she moved as fast as she dared. The steps were steep and uncarpeted, but a rubber pad in the centre of each step gave her traction. She held the railing as she descended. The rhythmic banging started again, and she followed the pounding sound to the back door.

Sara opened the door and was surprised to see an older woman, her white hair pulled back into a bun, standing on the other side. The woman’s electric grey eyes enlarged for just a moment before she greeted Sara with a warm but sad smile. Sara smiled in return but opened the screen only a fraction. The woman seemed friendly, unthreatening, but Sara felt there was something strange about the woman in front of her.

Hello, dear, you must be Sara. I’m Mrs. O. Joe phoned to let me know that you would arrive today, and I wanted to find out if you’ve settled okay.

Hello, Mrs. O. Yes, I’m Sara, please come in. Would you excuse me for a few minutes? Sara had to pee, she was sweating, and her stomach was flip-flopping. She rushed to the bathroom, finished using the toilet, and threw up in the bowl. She cooled instantly. She sat for a few moments before finding Mrs. O in the kitchen, busy making tea. Sara thought the older woman seemed too comfortable, knowing where everything was.

Mrs. O looked at Sara when she came into the room. Sit down, dear, you look so pale.

I have morning sickness. I’m hoping it’ll subside soon.

I’ve made some peppermint tea. It should settle your stomach.

I hope you’re right.

How far along are you?

About four months.

Besides the morning sickness, how have you been feeling?

Sara hesitated before answering. I’ve been fine, just tired.

Mrs. O smiled pleasantly. I’m sorry; you must think I’m being nosy. When I talked to Joe, he mentioned you were pregnant and asked me to check up on you.

Sara sighed. You can tell Joe I’m fine.

I did it again, my apologies. Mrs. O handed her a mug. I hope you like the tea.

Sara blew on the hot liquid a few times and took a sip. Mrs. O, I’m sorry Joe has dragged you into this. We’ve been having issues. He’s become very controlling, and I feel like a big black hole has swallowed me. Without my knowledge, he rented this property and sent me here. But I’m glad I have the opportunity to be on my own. I’ve felt so smothered.

Oh, dear. Men can be so, so frustrating.

Sara laughed. It felt good to laugh, and Mrs. O joined in.

***

Ben wore comfortable, well-used clothing. His chin was covered with the stubble of a greyish-black beard, and his ash-brown hair was shaved short. His clear green eyes glinted in the late-morning sun.

He reached the crest of the hill in time to see a cab pull up and stop in front of the dull tan two-storey house and was surprised to see a young woman emerge from the car. He watched as the cab driver pulled luggage out of the trunk and carried it up to the house. The woman went into the house, and shortly after the cab driver left.

The house below could tell many stories if it talked, but most would be unpleasant. He took out his cellphone and took some shots before the woman went into the house. He enlarged the photo to see who she was. There was an inkling of something familiar about the sight. He would look closer at her picture later; right now, he needed to take care of something at home.

Ben took one final look around. There was nothing more to see, so he turned and headed back to his one-bedroom apartment.

CHAPTER TWO

S ARA SAW COLOURED lights blinking at her far left: blue, gold, red, and purple. She walked toward the lights as they flashed. A petite girl appeared in the midst of colours, her long golden hair hiding her face as it flowed in the hint of a breeze. Sara quickened her pace, but the girl seemed to move backwards with every step that Sara took forward.

A shadow appeared, shifted toward the girl. Sara stared at the silhouette as it moved. She tried to run to toward the girl but was firmly glued to her spot. The girl sank to her knees. The form crept closer and hovered above her. The girl raised her head and screamed as