Small Sacrifices

By Rhonda Burnaugh

What did a lifeless body found floating in the Pacific Ocean, an unused plane ticket from 1978, and a psychic’s bizarre dreams have to do with the mysterious death of Supriti Love?

As a fiction writer, Timber embarks on a mission to unravel the truth, which is why she travels to the lush vineyards of CastleVine Wineries in Napa Valley. But sometimes the truth does not set you free. Instead, she finds herself trapped in a world of lies, deceit, and unimaginable horror. Can she escape, or will she end up being the victim in the world stranger than the fiction she writes? Who can she trust, and what will she need to sacrifice in order to get out alive? Is her fate already sealed, destined to be the next Ms. Love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Nov 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781490791388

Rhonda Burnaugh

Rhonda Burnaugh is a behavioral health professional and utilizes her background in psychology to create stories and characters. Her first novel, Catch a Falling Star, was published in 2014, and Blood Moon on the Rise is a sequel to that novel.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

T wo hundred miles north of San Francisco, it was a cool, foggy Saturday morning and the Herron family had decided to take the kids on a weekend trip to tour Humboldt County in California and explore. After visiting the obligatory tourist sites, they decided to rent a boat and walk around Indian Island, letting the kids explore and run off some energy. They had packed a picnic lunch and were ready to head out when they discovered the island was not open to the public. Not to be thwarted, they opted to head to Agate Beach to look for semi-precious stones, driftwood and chunks of fishing boats that routinely washed up on the shores by the mighty waves.

Jesse and his wife found a large piece of driftwood, sat down and prepared to enjoy the magnificent ocean view while their two boys, ages twelve and fourteen, dashed off for some serious beachcombing. Stay within sight and don’t go into the water, the tides are dangerous, their mother shouted into a hurricane force wind. Turning to her husband, she inhaled deeply. Let’s move from the hustle of San Francisco and spend the rest of our lives right here. I’m sick of the city.

Smiling, he pulled her closer, I’ll take the sound of crashing waves over crashing cars anytime. Maybe we should investigate it, though I imagine it costs a fortune to live here.

It couldn’t be any worse than San Francisco. Pulling her sweater tighter, she leaned back and took a deep breath of the ocean mist, filling her nostrils with the scent of fresh water and wind. She could see the boys, darting back and forth, too close to the ocean. Suddenly standing up, she said, Let’s catch up with the kids. The ocean is wild today. I don’t trust them out of sight.

I agree. Jesse nodded. It would be just our luck to have someone fall in and I’m not a strong swimmer.

Further down on the beach, Seth and Justin busied themselves filling a grocery bag with smooth stones, broken seashells and pieces of driftwood. Safely out of their parent’s sight, they charged into the surf, but never went any deeper than their knees.

Seth was slightly older than his brother, This place is awesome. A wave caught him off guard and almost caused him to lose his balance. It never stops. Let’s ask if we can camp here tonight. Justin started to answer when another wave toppled them both into a swirling tide pool. Grabbing the nearest thing, they seized onto a log rolling just under the waves. Seth took hold of the black seaweed attached and wrapped his arms firmly around it, yelling to his brother, Hold on! Just then another wave came from nowhere, breaking his hold. The log rolled over, heaving upwards and that is when they became conscious: It wasn’t a log and the seaweed was hair. Screaming and scrambling for their footing, they broke for shore, Mom, Dad! Hurry. There’s a dead body in the ocean.

1

JUNE 2, 1984

R unning a slender finger down the list, Supriti murmured softly to herself. Party favors in bags, the piñata, birthday gifts wrapped. Except the one in the barn, smiling she added, guess you can’t wrap up a pony. Sighing she reached for the telephone in the phone booth. She dialed without looking at the number. He answered on the first ring. CastleVine Winery.

Hello is the customary response, Owen. Supriti smiled. I called your private phone.

Sorry Supriti, I wasn’t paying attention. Where are you? Owen sounded preoccupied.

About an hour from Napa. I had to stop and get the kids lunch. They were hungry. Glancing back to Angelo and Pia who were both munching on French fries, she added, I still have to pick up his birthday cake. I can’t get his cake with him in the car, Owen.

Pick it up tomorrow. Ali has a hair appointment. I’m not sure if our housekeeper can …

You know how I feel about her.

Never mind. I’ll watch them, but I have to be gone for a couple hours to get the pony. Owen sighed deeply into the phone. You will be staying here, right? Owen chuckled slightly, Like old times?

Ah no, she emphasized every syllable. Seriously, what is wrong with you today?

Suddenly laughing, he said, Hey, Ali doesn’t care as long as I leave her alone. After the party perhaps, we can have a private party of our own? His voice lowered, I’ve missed you, Supriti.

I am getting a hotel room in Napa. Noting the kids were watching, she whispered, Not negotiable, Owen.

Hotel room? That could work, too. Owen added, But it would be easier- I mean for Angelo and Pia- if you stayed here. Ali was planning a special breakfast of blueberry and lavender pancakes.

Lavender? Supriti frowned. What you really mean is I will be cooking since Ali doesn’t cook.

Owen laughed. True! Please say you will stay.

I’ll stay, but only because I don’t want his birthday ruined. She added, and there won’t be any lavender.

***

The day dawned with the same lackluster as a common cold, but by noon the sun had turned Napa Valley into a cesspool of steam and pollen. After his special birthday breakfast, Angelo turned to his stepmother Ali. Can we go play in the barn? Nodding, his little sister Pia glanced from her brother to their stepmom. Pigtails poking out like spikey cactuses on either side of her face, she was already on her feet.

Any other day and she might have said okay, but right now they were hiding a pony in one of the stalls. Ali glanced to Supriti for a save.

Supriti took the cue, It’s so muggy. Let’s go swimming in the pool. How does that sound? When both kids began hopping in a circle, she turned to Ali. You are welcome.

Enjoy yourselves, Ali turned away, I have to stay here and finish some details before the party.

Pity, Supriti smiled back, If you change your mind…

I won’t, Ali sniffed, I’ll be in the barn- with my husband.

***

Ali found Owen in the stall brushing the pony. It was all black with one white star on its forehead. Owen volunteered, I had a pony when I was a kid.

How many bones did you break? Peering over the rails as if she were viewing a live alligator, she added, Or maybe a concussion. That could explain a lot.

A couple times, never broke anything. Gently stroking the pony’s velvet muzzle, it nipped at him and he jerked his hand back. Ouch. Kind of skittish, I guess. New surroundings, that’s all.

Ali crossed her arms, smiling slightly at the reddened area where the pony had bitten him. How old were you, Owen? Angelo is only three years old.

Four tomorrow. Okay, maybe I was a few years older, but I won’t let him go off alone. I’ll be right beside him. Under my capable supervision. Owen turned his back to her, mumbling, You worry too much, Ali. It’s going to give you premature wrinkles. I already noticed some gray hairs.

You’re responsible for the gray hairs. Rolling her eyes, she pressed, By the way, where were you last night?

Here, in the barn, I had some paperwork to complete in my office. He paused. I was working.

Right, working. Ali turned away. Why am I always on the losing end?

You got a winery in the deal. It wasn’t a total loss, my dear. Tossing her a final glance, Owen headed for the door. I’m going to get a shower before the party. Oh, can you please feed that cute pony? It seems kinda hungry.

***

2

W hile their two kids, Angelo and Pia splashed in the water , Ali watched as her husband Owen joined them in the pool. Easily grabbing and tossing them in the air, he laughed in a way he never did with her. She had always liked the way he looked: innocent acolyte with thunder rumbling in his eyes. His mouth tilted in an unassuming smirk that made you check to make sure your blouse was buttoned. Death do us part … she turned away, reaching for a glass of wine on the table beside her.

Owen Castlewood had grown up in- well in a castle where he was the only prince and every day was Christmas. By the time he was sixteen, the only toy he wanted in his stocking was a doll where you pulled the string and she replied Yes, please. That was not Ali Browning. Her best feature- she was nice, which almost made it seem worse. Always the good Catholic girl.

Ali had grown up in the shadows of CastleVine Estate. Since her parent’s winery was so close she could climb over the fence, she was technically the girl next door. Even in grade school, Owen was popular and usually in some kind of trouble. Ali avoided him just in case his bad habits were contagious. Though she never hung out with his crowd, it seemed their paths were constantly crossing, mostly because their parents were friends and in the same business. That all changed when Ali’s father found himself in a financial pinch and approached Owen’s father to suggest a merger of their two wineries. Castlewood declined the offer, but when Browning filed bankruptcy and the estate went up for auction, his friend purchased the winery out from under him. Ali’s father devised a new plan.

Sitting his daughter down, he explained, I need you to …um … get close to Owen, get to know him. You know what I mean?

Ali shook her head no. Why? I do know him and never liked him.

Let me be blunt, he reached across the table for her hand, let’s say you spend some time with him- perhaps he’s not as bad as you believe. Besides, he’s kind of cute.

Ali gasped. Are you suggesting I date him? Is that your way of getting our winery back?

You might actually learn to love him. He sat back, peering over his glasses at her. Sometimes we all have to make small sacrifices.

Small sacrifices? It took every ounce she had to remain calm, to not shatter into a thousand pieces. I can’t believe you’re asking this of me? She stood, staring at the stranger before her. Does Mom agree with this plan? Does she even know what you’re thinking? When her father looked away, she added, A loving parent would never ask this of a child. This stupid winery is more important than my happiness? Why not arrange a marriage? For the record, I would never marry someone I don’t love.

When her parents moved to Canada, Ali stayed. A few weeks later, Owen appeared and was halted at the door. Why are you still here? This belongs to me now. I’m tearing it down next week.

Ali stood between him in the doorway. You’ll have to get a court order because I refuse to leave.

Cocking his head, Owen chuckled. I never realized- a challenge- aren’t you a feisty one.

I don’t like you. Ali started to close the door in his face. I would never go out with you.

Blocking the door with his foot, he continued, What makes you think I was going to ask? Besides, I have a girlfriend.

Obviously she doesn’t know you like I do. Stepping back, Ali folded her arms across her chest.

I love a challenge. Let’s talk over dinner. Maybe we can come up with a compromise? Owen had managed to maneuver himself into the front hallway. Maybe it’s a mistake to tear this place down.

I’m not going to be your employee. Ali stepped back from him. Or girlfriend.

I never meant to imply you would work for me, he smiled, I was thinking we could be partners. Plus, this is not a date. Dinner would be a business meeting. What do you say, Ms. Browning?

I’m open to a discussion, she added, this is my home.

A year later, Ali Browning became Mrs. Owen Castlewood.

3

A s soon as Ali witnessed the circus rolling in with trampolines and bouncy houses, she retired to the peace and sanctity of her bedroom. Supriti gave her a headache. Owen and Supriti deserved each other. In another world, they would live in infamy just to spite her. Swallowing two painkillers with a small sip of water, she collapsed onto the bed. It was still an hous before the show was scheduled to commence. She didn’t need to rehearse her part. Like a good actress, she had her lines and role memorized.

***

By 2:00 PM, everything was set. Earlier Owen had dressed Angelo in red shorts and a white shirt with big blue #4. Scanning the lawn for the birthday boy, he spied Pia, who was mesmerized by some guy making animal art out of balloons. Other kids were bouncing on the trampoline, while another group played in a fishbowl of multi-colored balls. As far as Owen was concerned, it looked like a giant germ pool about to spawn numerous infectious diseases. Automatically reaching for the hand sanitizer, he looked for Ali or Supriti in the crowd. When he couldn’t locate either of them, he walked back to the house to find the housekeeper. Figuring she was probably in the kitchen, he went there first, but it was empty. He spied Ali coming down the stairs towards him, carrying Angelo. Where have you been?

Upstairs. She pushed past him, sitting Angelo in the nearest chair.

Hiding, no doubt. Owen scoffed. Have you seen Supriti?

Oh, was it my turn to watch her? Ali was the color of alabaster.

The cake? Where is the cake? Owen stared after her, then abruptly stopped as Angelo started to cry. What is it, buddy?

Where’s mommy? Angelo asked, We can’t have my party without mommy.

She went to pick up your birthday cake, Angelo, Ali interjected. Go play and have fun. When she gets back, you can unwrap your gifts and …

Where did your special shirt go? Owen realized the birthday shirt had been replaced with a Mickey Mouse T-shirt.

Ali scooped up the little boy in her arms. He got dirty playing and I took him upstairs and changed his clothes That’s where I was ‘hiding’.

But mommy was here and then… Angelo persisted.

…Mommy will be right back, honey. Ali turned to Owen. Right daddy?

I know your mother. She has never missed a party in her entire life. Owen faked a smile. Taking his son, he added, Until she gets here, go have fun with your friends.

But it won’t be any fun without her. Angelo whined, jumping up and down on one leg.

Yeah, I know. Owen spoke to himself. Everything is more fun with Supriti.

***

By 6:00 PM, the party was over. Owen checked the guest room. Supriti’s suitcase was there and toiletries were scattered on the counter in the bathroom, as if she would be back any minute. Her car was not in the driveway behind the house where she had parked it earlier, so guests could park out front. Ali was getting the kids ready for bed. Apparently, the housekeeper had retired for the evening.

By morning’s light, search parties were mobilized. Her car was quickly located outside of Napa on an isolated country road. Her purse was missing, the keys were still in the ignition, but Supriti was nowhere to be found. There was no sign of a cake. The bakery confirmed she never picked it up.

4

S upriti’s family migrated from Chennai , the capitol of Tamil Nadu. Situated on the Bay of Bengal and Indian Ocean, it is the fourth largest city in India; In terms of wealth, it ranked eighth. Covelong is one of many beaches where the deep blue water of the sea meets the sky and golden coastlines are dotted with a multitude of waving palm and sumptuous coconut trees. When Supriti returned to visit her family on holiday, this is where she went for peace and solitude. This was also one of the first places checked out by the detectives after her disappearance. Her family swore they had not seen or heard from her in several weeks. Not that her long silent spells were unusual as they knew she was preoccupied with her projects and tended to immerse herself in her work. Later, she would reconnect and sometimes visit for many weeks with her family. Only once did she take the children with her. Usually if her family wanted to spend time with Angelo and Pia, they came to California. Not that anyone would ever accuse Supriti of being the proverbial helicopter mother, but she was protective, keeping them away from the limelight, even providing tutors to attend to their educational needs at home rather than send them off to schools.

After Supriti’s disappearance, Owen moved into her home in Carmel, explaining he did not want the children’s routines disrupted. A month later, when there was still no sign of her, he moved them back to Napa Valley. They set up bedrooms and enrolled the kids in a private Catholic school.

Most nights Angelo cried himself to sleep. Where is my mommy?

Ali sat beside him on the bed, cradling his tiny hand. Where ever your mommy is tonight, she loves you and wants you to say a prayer for her.

Will she come back someday? Angelo peered into her face for an answer. Pia was a watching them both closely, wrapped in her favorite blankie.

If she can, she will come back to be with you and your sister. Hugging them both, she added, Until that day, your daddy and I are here for you and love you, too. Let’s pray, okay?

Okay. Lacing his fingers together, Angelo bowed his head. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, Pia buried herself under her pillow. He began the same child’s prayer he recited every night. God bless mommy, daddy, and Miss Ali and sissy and my pony Dandy. Tell mommy to please come home soon. I think Jesus would be okay with that. Amen.

Amen, Ali gave them both a kiss and tucked them into bed. We’ll go to church and light a candle for her tomorrow.

Will the candle help her see in the dark? Pia pressed. Like the song this little light of mine?

Kissing her forehead, Ali smiled softly, Like the song, yes. A lamp for my feet, a light on my path. The candle is the light. Murmuring more to herself as she gazed- past the children and out the half open window, allowing the last remnants of daylight to silently slip into deep slumber. Believe in the light, so that you may become children of light.

5

COLUMBUS, OHIO 1978

B y the time he had finished his internship , Dylan had decided he didn’t even want to be a doctor. Somewhere between the Hippocratic Oath and his first patient, he realized he wasn’t a people person, and would have been happier on the other side, working as a mortician. At least dead folks didn’t have a thousand questions and constant need for attention. Instead, he specialized in obstetrics and gynecology. What was he thinking? Oh yeah. Follow the money. He had thousands in loans to pay off and his father had told him there was a ton of money-making opportunities in maternity. The only thing worse would have been to choose becoming a pediatrician. He tried to imagine an office full of crying babies, fretting mothers and placating fathers. One thing he knew for certain was that if he ever married, he wanted nothing to do with those little sleep killing machines. Juggling diaper bags and lugging a kid on one hip wasn’t for him. Besides, he had suffered enough sleepless nights in school. So, here he was, setting up a practice in the suburbs of Columbus, Ohio.

After finishing his internship, he rented a two-story house that doubled as an office. Climbing up the grey painted cement steps, there was a large front porch with an old wooden swing with chipped white paint, swaying in the corner. Once inside, creaky carpeted stairs wound to the second level where he resided. On the main level, he tore down old rose dotted wallpaper and turned the living room into a waiting room. There was an institutional green bathroom, a sunflower papered kitchen with sloping Formica countertops and a dining room that became his office. Two small back bedrooms made private examination rooms. He painted one pink and the other blue. It would have to make do for now. Praying he would make enough money to be able to pay them, he hired a receptionist and a nurse, who just happened to be twin sisters, though they looked nothing alike. Darla was the pretty one with strawberry blonde hair spun into a soft bun on the back of her head, long legs and a professional demeanor, while her sister was a watered-down imitation. So much for genetics. They lived together and had grown up in Powell, so everyone knew them, which meant the Cooper sisters, Debi and Darla could spread the good word about him. The strategy worked. At first, it was just a trickle of new patients, then it seemed like everyone knew his name. He was like the good old country doc in the idyllic town of Mayberry. Doc Blackburn was delivering babies and sage advice.

Darla was the nurse while Debi handled setting up appointments and taking calls. Some days it meant babysitting in the waiting room, but Debi was the demure type who never complained. It was about a year after the practice had started to flourish when Darla came to his office after hours and softly closed the door. Debi had already gone home. She started, I need to talk to you privately- about my sister.

Dylan frowned from behind his desk. Is something the matter? Motioning for her to sit in the chair reserved for expectant mothers, he continued, Nothing serious I hope? Pausing, he added, Oh no. Is she quitting?

No, no, nothing like that. Darla sucked in a large gulp of oxygen before continuing. She’s pregnant.

Pregnant? Dylan sat back. I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend.

Um, well, she doesn’t. Darla looked like a cat caught on the counter, stealing food.

Immaculate conception? Dylan’s smile quickly faded. Oh my god, what happened? Was she …?

No, no. Nothing like that. Darla stammered, She doesn’t want anyone to know. You see, we live with our cousin Jack and they… um …

Dylan waited for her to finish the sentence however the last word hung in the air, suspended forever in time and kind of summed up the rest of the story. How far along is she, Darla? Suddenly he realized how much he sounded like his father.

She isn’t sure. Maybe three or four months. Darla was on the verge of tears. She has to leave town. No one can know. She would die of embarrassment.

A thousand questions raced through Dylan’s mind. Are both of you sleeping with Jack? How long had this escapade been going on? Doesn’t