The Hustings: Ronnie's Resurrection

By D. L. Gollnitz

Veronica Emma-Mae Husting has reinvented herself more than once in a chase for elusive happiness. Ronnie finally comes home but experiences a near-death accident that forces her to face the past, present, and possible future during a visit to the afterlife. She learns what’s important without totally abandoning the riches she’s always adored.

After reconnecting with Ware Treallor, the true love of her life and father of her only daughter, Ronnie works to strengthen her family presence but discovers how much she’s missed. The Hustings: Ronnie’s Resurrection journeys through Ronnie’s life in California and her fight to avoid addiction to prescription drugs, a threat facilitated by a decision to marry for wealth. Family secrets continue to surface as Ware and Ronnie reestablish the Husting estate that haunts them with tragedies that affect their children and grandchildren.

Ware’s grown son and daughter by another marriage react to their father’s truths differently. Both are challenged to be with the person they love for reasons that vary as greatly as the family’s misfortunes. Ware discovers mysteries surrounding his sister, Betty’s, involvement in Ronnie’s broken past, and he takes drastic actions to bring Betty to the place she belongs. This novel brings each character to their intended home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Nov 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665731256

D. L. Gollnitz

D. L. Gollnitz grew up in New England and lived in Chester County, Pennsylvania, before settling in Michigan. She earned an MBA at Bryant University and a PhD at Oakland University. After years of coaching high school students in the writing classroom, she moved into public school district administration and followed her desire to write novels. Gollnitz loves spending time with her family, reading, and quilting.

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Copyright © 2022 D. L. Gollnitz.

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Scripture quotations taken from The Holy Bible, New International

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ISBN: 978-1-6657-3123-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-3124-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-3125-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022918173

Archway Publishing rev. date: 11/11/2022

This work is dedicated to my son, Derek, for his sincere

interest and support of my pursuit

to write fictional novels for entertainment.

Stories originate in recesses of the mind.

No one can account for strange plot development

when a writer allows a character to lead the way.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

September 2015: The Wedding

PART ONE

Seeking Fortune

CHAPTER ONE

1969: Starting Over

CHAPTER TWO

1970: Deceived

CHAPTER THREE

1971: Conflicted

CHAPTER FOUR

1978: Insecurity

CHAPTER FIVE

1978: The Morning After

CHAPTER SIX

1990: Lost Identity

CHAPTER SEVEN

1995: Fateful Party

CHAPTER EIGHT

1995: Finding Veronica

CHAPTER NINE

1995: Fighting Relapse

CHAPTER TEN

1995: Attempted Balance

CHAPTER ELEVEN

1995: Facing Facts

CHAPTER TWELVE

1995: Recognizing Self

PART TWO

Breaking Away

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

1995: Seeking Home

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

1995: The Husting Lifestyle

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

1997: Establishing Self

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

1999: Defining Home

PART THREE

Ronnie’s Extended Journey

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

2008: Departed Soul

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

2009: Deep into the Journey

CHAPTER NINETEEN

2010: Seeking Peace

CHAPTER TWENTY

2010: Facing Life

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

2010: A Day of Thanksgiving

PART FOUR

A Family Established

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

2015: Redefining Family

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

2016: Family Truths

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

2016: Recognizing Love

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

2016: Wavering Faith

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

2016: Alliances

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

2016: The Price of Evil

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

2016: Leslie’s Truth

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

2016: Confronting Truth

CHAPTER THIRTY

2016: Calling the Question

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

2016: Understanding Parenthood

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

2016: Difficult Conversations

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

2016: More Secrets Unfold

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

2016: Family Traditions

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

2016: Christmas Eve

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

2016: Fateful Meeting

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

2017: Freedom to Love

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

2017: Reconciliation

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

2017: Confronting Deception

CHAPTER FORTY

2017: Family History Revealed

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

2017: Disconnected

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

2017: Revelations

PART FIVE

Commitment

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

2017: The Past Untangled

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

2017: Betrayal of Family

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

2017: Finding Normal

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

2018: Curiosity Kills

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

2018: Faltering Belief

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

2018: Confessions

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

2018: Weaving the Pieces

CHAPTER FIFTY

2018: Pain of Mortality

FIFTY-ONE

2018: Family Love

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

2018: A Wedding

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

2019: Heaven on Earth

EPILOGUE

2019

2020

Book Club Discussion Questions

Acknowledgements

PROLOGUE

SEPTEMBER 2015: THE WEDDING

A toast to Mr. and Mrs. Warren Treallor started the festivities. Ronnie’s tea-length dress was simple. Her hair was pinned up in her signature French twist. Her ears sparkled, and her wedding finger held the modest, single diamond that had lived in Ware’s pocket for fifty years.

Welcome home, Ronnie.

Ronnie touched a red fingernail to Ware’s lips and closed her eyes in thankful prayer. Ware, do you believe there is a heaven?

His gray-green eyes misted. Your daddy is there.

A faint smile and smooth dip of her chin allowed Ronnie to gain focus on the guests around her. She turned to her daughter and lifted her glass.

Sandra Channing was the only child of Veronica Emma-Mae Husting. Sandra had been born during Ronnie’s brief marriage to Quentin Simarillo, an arrangement concocted by Ronnie’s father, Robert Husting Jr. at a time when Quentin was the golden boy at Husting Manufacturing. That marriage had not been based on love, but Sandra was a love child. Now Sandra’s parents were joined in holy matrimony, married by a minister just minutes earlier on the beautiful grounds of the family estate. The road to this juncture had been anything but easy.

Ronnie strolled about the small gathering, hugging loved ones. She was filled with grace and never moved away from her new husband, Warren Treallor. It was Ware, as she had always known him, who held her up in the most difficult times in her young life. He had stood by her through her first marriage and even had escorted her off when she resolved to spread her wings and follow her dreams of fortune. It was Ware who had held Sandra in the hospital after her birth, not Quentin. And it was Ware who had seen her through her father’s failing health and death. Ware was Ronnie’s rock. Today he stood with her again as she made her way home. Back to the Husting estate that he somehow managed to reclaim so he could share it with Ronnie, Sandra, and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Daddy, I can feel your presence, too.

A small string ensemble played chamber music, and Ware immediately took his wife’s hand. Together they danced on the lawn as guests formed a circle around them. Ware, you need to pinch me. Am I even dancing?

He nuzzled his lips close to her ear as he whispered, Indeed. It is a miracle in more ways than one.

All the people who mattered most in Ronnie and Ware’s lives were invited to the celebration of their marriage, a union that was fifty years late. When Veronica Emma-Mae Husting had entered the world, her mother lost her own life while giving birth to her daughter. Ronnie’s father, Robert Evan Husting Jr. had been thirty-five years old, and his stunning wife Emma Mae, several years younger, had been petite and vulnerable. He had built his fame on the heels of his father’s textile business. Robert Rob Evan Husting Sr. followed other wealthy families into the Wilmington, Delaware, area in the 1910s, building a textile business that opened doors for his only son, Robert Jr. Like other entrepreneurs of the time, Husting had acquired great wealth, and the Husting estate had been developed over many years into a highly envied piece of property. Robert had been a philanderer who lived for two women. He had loved his wife Emma, but he also had loved Carolyn Leeder, a jazz singer. On the day Veronica Emma-Mae had been born, Robert had planned to tell his wife Emma Mae that she was the love of his life and that he had ended his relationship with Carolyn. When Emma died on the delivery table, Robert was never given a chance to right his wrongs. Veronica had been a constant reminder of lost opportunities. As a result, she had grown up being over-indulged and cared for by estate staff while Robert had remained absent most of the time.

Now Ronnie was dancing with Ware on the lawn of the exquisite Husting estate. The property had been sold after Robert died. His will left all estate profits to Ware, a revered Husting estate property manager at the time. Veronica had inherited Husting Manufacturing, and she quickly learned running a large business was not her calling. The estate had changed hands over the years, but Ware eventually bought it back for Ronnie, his soulmate.

God is good. Ronnie looked up at Ware in contentment.

Indeed. And today, he wants you to smile just as He is smiling down on you.

And so is Daddy.

Ware pulled her closer as others joined in the dancing around them.

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After the guests left, Ware and Ronnie changed into comfortable clothes. Some family members were spending the night at the estate, but the couple took some time for themselves to walk the estate. The September air was warm, and the ground under the trees was soft. The humidity produced soft curls around Ronnie’s face where strands of hair had fallen from her French twist. Ware stroked a few ringlets away from her cheek. Sliding his hand under her chin, he turned her face toward his. Why did you ask me if I believe in heaven? You know I do.

Because I never did believe. Until the accident.

Ah. I get that. Sometimes a crisis changes things.

There was so much more than just her recovery. Ronnie didn’t want to get into all of that, at least not now. Sometime, though, she knew she had to let Ware know everything she learned while she was in an extended coma, a time when people assumed she would never recover.

They reached the pond, where a small outbuilding overlooked the water and distant rolling hills. It had been years since any maintenance had been done on the small shelter. Many years earlier, it had served as one of several places to escape the hectic pace of life. When Ronnie was growing up, the little building was a wonderful playhouse. She could recall Betty, her nanny, taking her on walks with a picnic basket. They would come to the little house, as Ronnie called it, and play with her dolls. She remembered lunch on a blanket and splashing in the edges of the pond.

Remember what this place was like?

Ware nodded. His light gray eyes were sensitive to the light bouncing off the pond, and he squinted. Ware had been hired by Veronica’s father as a groundskeeper when she was in her late teens. Ware, just one year older than Ronnie, worked hard and proved to be loyal to Robert Husting. In a fairly short time, he turned all property responsibilities over to Ware. This building was just one small piece of all he maintained on the estate.

Yeah. I do. I remember it well.

Betty took me here often when I was little. We had play picnics with my dolls. There was melancholy in her voice.

Well, I hope it looked better than this!

Oh, it did. My ‘little house’ was magical to me.

What are you really thinking about right now? It can’t be your dolls. Or Betty.

Ronnie had to ponder the question before she could answer.

I guess I’m wondering if I gave those kinds of magical times to Sandra.

Ware wrapped his arm around Ronnie’s shoulder and led her out of the glen. They made their way back to the mansion, letting the sounds of nature do the talking for them.

Part One

SEEKING

FORTUNE

Chapter

ONE

1969: STARTING OVER

V eronica Emma-Mae Husting Simmarillo had arrived in California just a few short months earlier. She had lost her father and struggled through a divorce, all within a year. Now she was focused on finding a comfortable life.

Three-year-old Sandra had been a bit of a challenge to her, as Ronnie’s mothering abilities fell far short of those she enjoyed from her own nanny, Betty Zane. Betty, in turn, had also mothered Sandra in infancy. Leaving Betty and the Husting estate proved to be more emotional than Ronnie had planned. Both she and Sandra were what some might call out of sorts most days. They lived in an extravagant hotel with all the amenities they needed, and Veronica Emma-Mae took full advantage of those services. As often as possible, Sandra was with childcare providers while Ronnie spent her days charming her way into the community.

Ronnie had contacted James, the Hustings’ chauffer, shortly after moving to the West Coast. When he was asked to be Ronnie’s driver in Los Angeles, he was more than happy to leave Wilmington. Little Sandra was delighted when she saw the jovial face. James drove Ronnie anywhere she needed to go, and his presence was reassuring. With a reliable, familiar person nearby, Veronica found it easy to gain confidence and begin dating.

After only a few months of mingling with Frederick Whatton, Ronnie made her way into his life. He was a willing participant in her attempts to lure him in, and they married within months. Ronnie had ulterior motives. It was Whatton who had acquired Husting Manufacturing from her, and she knew he was extremely wealthy. What Ronnie didn’t know was if her attorneys kept her name out of the final purchase negotiations. Robert Hustings had set up multiple trusts and beneficiaries, and she was not the only person to gain some of his wealth. While Ronnie was the heir to Husting Manufacturing, Robert had many stipulations in his estate plans. One included the length of time she was to maintain the business before being able to sell without losing financial benefits. Part of her request was that her attorneys exercise a loophole and lead the buyer of Husting Manufacturing to understand that proceeds would be shared among undisclosed recipients. Her efforts to regain the fountain of wealth her father had established without being directly involved had been fruitful. She received the money, Frederick Whatton bought Husting Manufacturing, and she could have continued to be wealthy without touching her inheritance until the time was right.

Veronica Husting Whatton, mother of Sandra Elizabeth Simmarillo, was a trophy wife. It was a comfortable move into the Whatton mansion. In fact, things about the home were uncannily familiar to Ronnie. The furnishings were much like those in the Husting mansion. The colors, the arrangement of furniture, and the scent of flowers were familiar and relaxing. These similarities made Ronnie’s choice to capture Frederick very easy.

She first married the perfect match, one her father tried to give her in Quentin Simmarillo. Instead, Frederick was almost her father all over again. His staff was attentive, and James was free to return to Delaware if he so chose. It was a bittersweet parting, but Ronnie wanted a fresh start, and James was ready to move on.

Frederick was debonair. He dressed with style and carried himself with confidence and poise, much like Robert Evan Husting Jr. It was all too good to be true. Ronnie’s interpretation at the time was that she was getting what she deserved—a lovely home, all the riches she needed, and an opportunity to live the high life without the heavy responsibilities of a manufacturing firm that required too much attention. She realized upon first meeting him that Frederick wouldn’t allow her to deal with the mundane parts of daily living.

On the first day that Ronnie had claimed her quarters as the mistress of this massive home, her room was adorned with fresh pink, yellow, and white roses. The decor was weighty, with massive drapery in the sitting room that adjoined the master bedroom suite. Frederick’s room was furnished with heavy wood and leather, plush oriental carpets on dark wood floors, and soft lighting to create a movie-viewing space when he desired.

A few days later, Ronnie spent the morning directing placement of her belongings in massive armoires and dressers. She and Sandra lunched at the country club where Sandra remained for an afternoon play session, and Ronnie hoped to find Frederick willing to engage in a little afternoon flirtation. As she approached their suite on the second floor, Ronnie heard her husband’s voice booming from his master suite study. And just what do you want me to do about that?

Ronnie slowed her pace to hear more of this conversation before entering the room. Frederick wasn’t generally boisterous, and she had not seen him flustered. Now his tone was anything but calm. He continued sputtering.

"I’ve given you everything you are getting from me. Is that clear? Deliver the stuff now! There will be no more negotiating. Those packets need to get out of Mexico immediately! And don’t leave any trails. Am I making myself completely clear to you, missy?"

Her heartbeat quickened. Her mind reeled. Can this be business?

She heard the phone receiver slam and the sounds of hands landing on the desktop. Mumbling was barely audible. She quickened her pace into the room.

Good afternoon, love. What do you say to a little time on the back veranda?

Frederick stood abruptly. Not today. I’m busy with a deal for two openings this month. He guided her to the door and told her he needed some quiet time to get some work finished.

Ronnie was stunned by his brusque manner and didn’t give in right away. But, Frederick, we have a few hours to ourselves. We could get comfortable, have a drink, and maybe—

No! There was a pause. Realizing he’d been caught in a compromising moment, Frederick lowered his voice. Let’s plan something for tomorrow evening. I know you understand that there is some work I need to finish. Huh? What do you say? I’ll take you to dinner at one of your favorite places. His gentle kiss was a promise of tomorrow’s attention.

With a coy smile and a slight swing of her shoulders, Ronnie relinquished. That sounds promising. I’ll let you be for now.

She slipped into the bedroom, wondering what she had just witnessed. Certainly, it was not the kind of business dealing that was associated with movie openings that Frederick claimed to be focusing on lately. Stuff delivered now? Packets out of Mexico? Did Husting Manufacturing deal with something in Mexico that arrived in packets? Buttons or zippers?

Ronnie stayed in her room that afternoon. She read a mystery novel, listened to quiet music, and pondered her current state of life. She was on top of the social ladder. Her husband was rich. She was rich. What is out of kilter?

Her bedroom was decorated with floral wallpaper. The colors were pastel, not the dark colors popular in the younger circles of the day. The muted colors included pink, green, and soft yellow. The floral pattern was large, but not in pop art daisies, and not overwhelming. The size of the room was appropriate for the traditional pattern. The drapes were tapered with crisp, clean pleats and could be drawn to shut out the bright sunlight that came in through the east window in the early morning. Crystal lamps balanced the heavy mahogany dresser with a touch of femininity, and the tall posts of the bed accentuated the height of the ceilings. This room was intended as a private place for Veronica. The bed was inviting for naps or an escape if she was unable to sleep in the middle of the night. Her vanity was large with two sets of drawers, a mirror, and a soft upholstered chair. She spent time there each morning applying her makeup, selecting her jewelry, and styling her hair.

On this day, as Ronnie luxuriated in her room, there were moments of anxiety. Who did the decorating here? The room had the same feeling as the lady’s chamber attached to her father’s suite in the Husting mansion.

At the Husting estate, Ronnie had remodeled the rooms that once served as her mother and father’s original master suite. After her marriage to Quentin Simmarillo she had wanted the home to be hers, not a reflection of the mother she never knew. As a result, her father had moved to the first floor. With the help of her house staff and former nanny, Betty Zane, she selected the furnishings and colors. Her new space reminded her fully of the influence Betty had on the decisions she had made on the Husting mansion project. It’s just a popular style.

Even though she rationalized the likeness, Ronnie needed to know more. She needed Frederick to tell her who had decorated this room with the same feminine touches as her home in Wilmington.

Dinner was served in the dining room. Sandra was tired when she returned from the country club play session. Susan, a nanny on staff, fed Sandra early and took her up to her room for some quiet reading before an early bedtime. Ronnie was thankful for the time alone with Frederick. If she couldn’t get his physical attention earlier, she would engage him at dinner.

The meal started with salad and warm rolls. Ronnie sipped her wine and pushed the greens around on her plate. Frederick noticed her demeanor. What’s going on, Ronnie? Frederick knew how to win her over. He put his fork down, reached across the table, and took her hand. A slight squeeze was his signal that she had his undivided attention.

Oh, I just adore living here, Frederick. It feels so … I don’t know. Maybe the word is familiar. It’s comfortable for me.

That’s a good thing! So why the sullen look?

Ronnie didn’t know how to proceed. Her goal was to figure out if someone she knew had worked on the interior design. She tried an innocent approach. It’s just a little odd to me. The master suite is almost exactly like my own at the Husting mansion. How can that be? The colors are the same; the wallpaper is way too similar. In fact, it might be the same manufacturer and pattern. Even the drapes are almost identical. How can that be?

Frederick chuckled. Oh, my dear. Are you having crazy notions about the décor? Could it just be that these are the fashionable selections of our time?

I’m not so sure. I always thought that East and West Coast styles were different. Not in this case.

To avoid challenging questions, Frederick picked up the dinner bell and asked the kitchen staff to bring fresh water. He cleared his throat before continuing. Well, you know, Ronnie, I did visit the Husting estate. A long while ago now. I have to say that I was fully impressed. Your father knew how to manage that property.

He didn’t have anything to do with it. He was never there. Our house staff did it all. Besides, I decorated those rooms. For myself. And no one would show that suite to a visitor.

Frederick sniffed, rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, and welcomed the interruption of fresh water appearing. He quickly changed the subject. Well, let’s not dwell on that. Are you ready for a great steak? I asked specifically for a good piece of red meat for tonight. Today’s challenges require a bit of protein to replenish my energy.

Ronnie took the hint. Sure. I’m not quite as hungry as you may be, but I can enjoy some of it.

The wine was changed to deep red to complement the red meat, served very rare. A bloody mess.

Chapter

TWO

1970: DECEIVED

I t’s too cold out there today! Let’s hunker down and decorate inside. Ronnie didn’t want to get dressed.

Frederick was already dressed and ready to go into the city. He wanted to spend the day Christmas shopping with Veronica and Sandra. But this is Los Angeles. How can you be cold?

I don’t know. It’s damp today. Besides, Sandra would rather play with her dolls, look at books with Susan, and run outside. She loves Susan.

No procrastinations. Get going! We’ll have a wonderful day.

Ronnie dragged her body out of bed, stretched in front of the full-length mirror, and proceeded to the bathroom. If Frederick wanted to shower her with new jewels for Christmas, she could at least help choose them. Within an hour she was coiffed and ready to leave.

Sandra was dressed in her finest, with a navy-blue coat that flared at the waist. Her hair was curly, and she carried her favorite stuffed teddy bear. Ronnie had to admit that Sandra was a picture-perfect little girl. The color of her hair matched Ware’s perfectly. She had the same thick, dark brown curls and lovely hazel eyes that picked up the color of her clothing, blue or green or gray, depending on the day. Today her eyes shone blue. Ronnie’s heart melted when she looked at her love child. Her sentiments were not for Sandra but for Ware. Guilt. That feeling would never go away, and she knew it. She chose to live with her choices. Frederick was the wealthy man she needed, and Ronnie was pleased with her life. This lifestyle was what she yearned for, even more lavish than her upbringing. There was no need to look back when she now had everything she wanted.

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The car pulled to the front of the house. Today Frederick was driving the family in a black Lincoln Continental. Frederick considered this impressive vehicle to be his everyday car. A Bentley was reserved for evenings. Ronnie helped Sandra into the back seat and took her place in the front. Frederick rolled out of the driveway with a smile on his face. Today would be joyous for his ladies. The real purpose of this shopping spree would never be divulged.

They traveled down long sloping roads out of the Trousdale Estates neighborhood of Beverly Hills. Frederick was proud of his home and all that he had acquired. Ronnie enjoyed seeing the glamorous homes of the stars. She felt her shoulders relax as the trip progressed. The sun was shining brightly, and Sandra was singing songs to her teddy bear. Frederick was focused on the road, and Ronnie left him alone. It was turning out to be a good day, better than she expected.

Within thirty minutes, they arrived in the heart of Beverly Hills and parked near Rodeo Drive. Exquisite shopping was at their disposal, and Ronnie was in her glory. Frederick lavished her with a new Hermes scarf and said he was making mental notes for his Christmas shopping. Sandra was treated to a hand-knit stuffed rabbit that she adored. Frederick made the event fun, but Ronnie thought she knew what he was really doing. She looked forward to an extravagant Christmas haul under the tree in a few weeks.

Before returning home for the evening, Frederick treated his two ladies to a lovely, albeit casual, Italian dinner in a posh Beverly Hills bistro. Sandra’s stamina was wearing thin. She enjoyed spaghetti and meatballs, and quickly asked for her stuffed bear. Frederick, this has been so dear of you. Thank you for making sure we came shopping today. Sandra is about to get crabby, though. That comment was Frederick’s cue to move along and get the little one back in the car and shuffled off to bed as soon as they arrived home. Ronnie dozed into a light sleep on the drive back.

Later that evening while walking through the house, Ronnie noticed that some of the small knickknacks from the living room were gone. In particular, a lovely vase that Frederick seemed to covet was missing. He had said it was of sentimental value and didn’t want Ronnie to remove it from the sofa table. A leather journal that was poised to impress was gone from the desk in the study. Why did the staff move these things, or were they gone yesterday?

As they readied themselves for bed, Ronnie asked Frederick why he had insisted on this day of shopping with Christmas right around the corner. She hoped to confirm her thinking, but his response was anything but convincing. Oh, I just thought it would be a way to get some ideas for my shopping list. With a quick kiss on her cheek, he said goodnight and avoided the topic.

I thought as much! Hope we gave you what you were looking for. Sleep well. But what’s really going on?

Ronnie reached for the bedside lamp and brushed a small notecard left on the corner of the table. The envelope was addressed to Veronica Emma-Mae Husting in familiar, printed letters. Her hand trembled as she reached for the note. Someone has been here. No one who shouldn’t be. It’s nothing. I’ll read it tomorrow. Why my maiden name?

The night was fitful. Sleep did not come easily, but she refused to risk disturbing a snoring Frederick. Who did these things?

Sunrise was a welcome reason to get out of bed. Frederick was an early riser and was showered before Ronnie was fully awake. The shower steam rolled out of the master bathroom when he opened the door. With a towel wrapped about his waist, Frederick made his way to the bed. He bent down and touched Ronnie on the cheek. Are you awake?

Ronnie rolled away from him. I am, but I’m tired. Please let me be.

Frederick returned to the bathroom to finish getting ready for his day. By the time he emerged again, Ronnie was downstairs drinking