2Sweet 2Be 4Gotten

By Carlene Havel

A boxed set containing two Christian Romances
Evidence Not Seen: Love keeps no record of wrongs.
Jeff Galloway cannot forget how he and his mother were left to cope on their own when his father went to prison. Furthermore, he does not understand why his mother wants to welcome John Galloway home with open arms after almost thirty years. As a new romance begins to blossom with perky social worker Melanie Clark, she encourages Jeff to let go of the past. Can a crotchety retired detective help Jeff unravel long-kept secrets in his attempt to accept his parents as they are?
Parisian Surprise: When best friends Allee Bell and Tina Bandolino win the vacation of their dreams, they plan to have a fabulous time in Paris. However, Allee has to go on alone when Tina has to cancel. That takes some courage for a young woman who doesn't speak French and has never been outside the State of Alabama.
Once she arrives in France, Allee meets swoon-worthy Paul Chevalier, a U.S. Air Force captain assigned to the U.S. Embassy. Despite two wonderful weeks and their mutual attraction, common sense tells Allee she and Paul don't have enough time for love to blossom…or do they?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chavelbooks LLC
• Release date: Dec 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9781955892377

Carlene Havel

Carlene Havel writes sweet romance, Christian.romances, and historical novels. She has lived in Turkey, Republic of the Philippines, and numerous US states. After a career in human resources and software development, she began writing in 2005. The Havels live in Texas, surrounded by their extended family.

Book preview

EVIDENCE NOT SEEN

By

Carlene Havel

Chapter One 

December, 1979

This is the last of the Christmas decorations, Jeffrey Galloway announced, as he stacked boxes on the floor of his mother’s living room. Let me fold up the attic stairs and put your car back in the garage. Then, I’ll put the tree together.

Thank you, Son. Opening a carton, Rosemary began to unpack strings of lights. Just think. Next year, your father will be here to trim the tree with us. Her hands caressed the lights. They could have let him out early, but they’re not going to give him even that small kindness.

It won’t be much longer now.

Every year, I’ve prayed for compassion from the parole board, but it never happened. Rosemary stared out the front window of her living room. On January twenty-fifth his sentence is up, every last day of it finished. Over with at last.

I suppose now Aunt Ruby can quit campaigning for you to divorce him. Keys rattled as Jeff took them from a wall hook.

Yes, Rosemary answered. Everyone who said John was never coming home can go chew on a sour pickle. Your Aunt Ruby included.

Do you ever think maybe she’s onto something?

Of course not! Rosemary’s eyes swung to her son’s face. How could you say such a thing?

Jeff rubbed the back of his neck. Mom, the truth is I hardly know my father.

That’s not his fault. I hope you realize that. Rosemary put aside the Christmas lights. Neither one of us wanted you to see him through a window with bars on it. Once that picture gets into your memory, it never goes away.

Jeff nodded. I’m not placing blame, merely stating a fact. He’s been gone a very long time.

That’s for sure, Rosemary agreed. They parole murderers and put them back on the streets, but they’ve made John serve his whole sentence. She sighed. Maybe I should have taken you to visit him when I went every month. Perhaps then you would have learned what a good man he is. I thought about doing that so many times. I even considered moving near the prison farm where he is.

I didn’t know that. Jeff put a hand on his mother’s shoulder. What stopped you?

There was no guarantee they wouldn’t transfer him somewhere else. Besides, this is his home. Rosemary glanced around her, left and right. Your grandfather built this house. John grew up here. She folded her hands and looked away again. He has always dreamed of coming home, living here again. After all he’s lost, I couldn’t take that away from him, too. And on top of everything else, she added, after a brief silence, I didn’t want anyone to say we were run out of town. John Galloway is the finest man I’ve ever known, and I won’t have the local gossips whisper we’re afraid to face them. Rosemary rested a hand on her forehead. In less than two months, it will finally all be over with and he’ll be home. Would you like something to eat?

No thanks, Jeff answered, his hand still caressing her shoulder. I have to put in an appearance at Mr. Wilcox’s annual holiday reception this evening. It’s a command performance every year.

I think it’s nice Mr. Wilcox gives a party for the people who work for him. Rosemary began to remove newspaper balls from a cardboard box, gently placing each wad on the dining table.

In the garage, Jeff folded the spring-loaded attic steps into the ceiling. We have to talk about this situation, he thought as he pulled his mother’s auto into its customary space. For almost thirty years, Mom has sidestepped any discussion of Dad’s crime.

Stepping inside the house, he hung up his jacket and returned his mother’s keys. It’s getting cold.

Rosemary continued to unwrap an assortment of Christmas decorations. Of course, it’s cold. This is December.

Within a few minutes, Jeff had the four-foot-tall aluminum tree assembled. He stood back to admire his work, but the view was unsatisfactory. Mom, why don’t I get you a new tree? This one sags to one side no matter what I do. It must be as old as I am.

It looks fine to me, Rosemary replied, without so much as a glance toward the Christmas tree. She held up a tiny teddy bear. Here. You can put the Charlie decoration on first.

Good old Charlie. Jeff smiled, turning the faded ornament over several times. He fastened the metal hook to a branch near the top of the tree. I may as well start straightening out the lights.

Rosemary stuffed the used newsprint into a plastic bag. Good idea. Are you picking up Stephanie for the reception, or is she meeting you there?

I’m going by myself. Steph is still in Washington.

Oh? She placed a red glass ball on the tree. I thought you told me she was coming home the day after Thanksgiving.

She changed her mind. She has an important job interview lined up next week.

Rosemary stood with a gold snowflake suspended from her hand. Interview? In DC? Is she moving there?

She’ll have to relocate if she gets the job. Jeff kept his eyes on the knotted string of multi-colored lights. Let’s talk about something else. Anything other than Stephanie. Why don’t we throw these lights away and buy some new ones? It’s going to take forever to figure out which one of the bulbs is burned out.

The lights will be all right. You’re not looking for a job in Washington, too? The gold snowflake still dangled from Rosemary’s hand.

No, I’m staying right here. Settling on the floor, Jeff plugged in the string of lights. When nothing happened, he unplugged them and replaced a bulb.

Rosemary hung the snowflake on the tree and sank to the sofa. Is this going to be a long-distance romance?

With a sigh, Jeff repeated the bulb replacement process with no success. No, our romance—if you can call it that—has run its course. Stephanie has political aspirations. If she doesn’t get this job, she’ll line up another one. Deciding the best way to avoid questions he didn’t want to answer was to change the subject, Jeff asked, Are you concerned about living here with Dad?

What do you mean? We’ve been married for almost thirty-five years.

Finally, the lights sprang to life. Aha! Jeff crowed. He stood and laced the string of glistening bulbs through the branches of the Christmas tree. Mom, you’ve hardly seen each other for as long as I remember.

Rosemary shrugged and unwrapped another snowflake. You live in town now, and I don’t see you every day like I did when you were growing up. You’re still my son. You even remembered I like to decorate the Saturday before Christmas.

That’s a totally different situation, Jeff said, with a glance at his watch. John Galloway isn’t the same man you married when you were twenty-two years old.

Everything will be fine. We must believe that.

"You want to believe it."

Rosemary hung a snowflake near the bottom of the Christmas tree. It’s the same thing.

Chapter Two

Jeff hurried home, mentally checking the long list of things he had to do before Monday morning. He was determined not to begrudge the time he’d spent driving back and forth to his mother’s house across town, nor the hours it took to get her Christmas decorations unpacked and displayed. He couldn’t disappoint her, not after all she’d done for him. That was more than he could say for his jailbird father.

After a quick shower Jeff dressed for the office party as he would for work, in a neatly-tailored dark suit, starched white shirt with French cuffs, an expensive silk tie, and shoes polished to a military shine. He brushed his lush dark hair into place, and checked his reflection in the mirror. Image was important at the conservative law firm of Wilcox-Meyer. Jeff frowned, aware of the questions co-workers would ask when he showed up this evening without a date. Stephanie could have let me know sooner that she was staying over in DC. Not that it would have mattered. Working 80 hours a week doesn’t leave much time for me to line up a date.

Jeff was pleased to find a parking place only two blocks from the Wilcox mansion. The cold air stung his freshly-shaved face as he strode briskly by stately old brick homes. The moment he reached to ring the chime, the front door swung open. A burly man Jeff recognized as Mr. Wilcox’s chauffeur greeted him. Good evening, Sir.

Good evening, Mr. Boswell. No one’s going to crash this party. Nippy weather tonight.

Indeed. Moving aside to allow Jeff to step into the massive foyer, Boswell gave a slight nod to his right.

Jeff couldn’t remember the last time he’d walked into a party without Stephanie. Smiling, nodding greetings to strangers, he made his way to the bar. I’d like a ginger ale, please. He scanned the room, hoping to join a group of people he knew.

The round-faced bartender acknowledged the request with a nod, efficiently scooping ice and pouring the drink. He passed the fizzing ginger ale and a napkin to Jeff with lifted eyebrows. Taking a sip of his drink, Jeff threaded his way through the crowd to join a small knot of acquaintances congregated in a far corner.

Ah, barrister Galloway, my friend. William Bentsen clapped Jeff on the shoulder. So glad you decided to join us. And where is the lovely Stephanie?

Steph is out of town. Jeff forced a smile. This is quite a gathering.

His comment was met with murmurs of agreement, averted eyes, and tight grins. Something is wrong. During an awkward silence, Jeff shifted his glance from one face to another. The quiet was broken by William Bentsen grabbing Jeff’s drink and taking a gulp. "Yuck! What is this swill you’re drinking, Jeffrey, my man? It tastes like ginger ale! That stuff will rot your gut, don’t you know that? You gotta try some Scotch on the rocks."

William put his arm around Jeff’s shoulder. You know, old man Wilcox is footing the bill for everything tonight. The only logical course is to eat, drink, and be merry.

Slipping out of William’s grip, Jeffrey took his co-worker by the arm. Let’s see if we can get a little fresh air. Maybe you’d like a cigarette?

You don’t smoke, Jeff.

No, but you do. Come on. Let’s find the patio.

Okay, William agreed, with a silly grin.

Having no idea of the Wilcox mansion’s floor plan, Jeff opened a door and led William into a spacious kitchen. A formally-dressed waiter glanced in their direction, then continued loading a tray with hors d’oeuvres. Across the room Mr. Wilcox’s driver, Boswell, was speaking with—oh, no!—the boss’s granddaughter Gretchen.

Wrong turn, Jeff whispered to William. Let’s go back the other way.

Say what? William bellowed, causing both Gretchen and the chauffeur to turn toward him. Gretchen was Josiah Wilcox’s only grandchild. In accordance with Willcox tradition, she’d joined the family firm immediately following graduation from law school. Jeff had never seen her take unfair advantage of her family ties, although persistent office gossip claimed she often did. She could have been any age between twenty and forty, with frizzy brown hair and no makeup. An under bite gave her face the contours of a bulldog, not out of keeping with her personality.

Gretchen approached the spot where Jeff and William stood. What do you have to say for yourself? she demanded, her glare fixed on William.

Hello, Gretchen baby. How’s tricks?

Boswell stepped between William’s outstretched hand and Miss Wilcox. Take him home, Boswell, Gretchen said.

Taking William’s arm, Boswell guided the staggering attorney through a door opposite where he and Jeff entered the kitchen.

Over his shoulder, the smiling William mumbled, Are you mad at me, Gretch? Did I say something wrong?

You’re drunk, Gretchen replied. She turned to Jeff, and her tone softened. Could I trouble you and Stephanie to take a friend of mine home?

It never hurts to do a favor for the boss’s granddaughter. No trouble, but it’s just me. Stephanie’s out of town.

Whatever. She chewed her upper lip. I appreciate your help. And Jeff, I’d be very grateful if we keep this little incident among ourselves. She raised her voice. Mel, your ride is here.

Jeff nabbed a cube of cheese, wondering if Mel was another intoxicated guest. There’s no one I can recall by that name at Wilcox-Meyer. He must be a client. Isn’t it just like the Wilcox family to provide free liquor and then be offended when someone drinks too much?

The door to a small bathroom swung open. A petite blond emerged, wiping her blouse with a towel. That was fast. I figured it would be at least twenty more minutes before a cab would get here.

Gretchen smiled. Let me introduce you to Jeff Galloway. He has offered to take you home. Jeff this is Melanie, Melanie Clark.

Offered? Melanie laughed, then put a hand to her forehead. Let me guess. Jeff works for your grandfather, and made his generous offer at the behest of someone in this room whose last name happens to be Wilcox. She dropped her hand and smiled. Nice to meet you, Jeff. I appreciate your gallantry. As soon as my cab gets here, I’ll be on my way.

Please, Mel, Gretchen pleaded, I feel bad enough already without you taking a taxi out to the sticks after dark. Come on, won’t you let Jeff take you home? For me if not for yourself?

"I suppose I owe you a favor after you fixed me up with such a delightful blind date. Melanie scrubbed at the pink stain that stretched from her collar bone to her waist. My new blouse is ruined for sure."

Irritated that the pretty blonde seemed to think he was an unpleasant option, Jeff said, I’m not such a bad guy to take a ride with. I have a really nice car.

Furthermore, Jeff never drinks at Pop’s parties, Gretchen added.

Oh, all right, Melanie agreed. Let me get my jacket and purse.

Gretchen gestured toward a sideboard. I have them right here. I assumed you wouldn’t want to walk through the crowd with cocktail sauce all over you. She turned toward Jeff. What does your coat look like? I’ll have someone get it.

I didn’t wear one. Jeff drew his keys from a pocket. I take it we’re leaving now and going out the back door?

Chapter Three

What’s your connection to the Wilcoxes? Jeff asked, as he followed Melanie’s directions south toward the center of town.

I’m friends with Gretchen.

He tried to guess her age. Twenty-five or so? Are you an attorney?

Melanie laughed. Good grief, no. I’m a social worker.

A social worker, huh? Instead of making money, you’re dedicating yourself to saving the world with good decisions, healthy relationships, and personal dignity?

It’s lucky for you that I tolerate sarcasm. Go south on the interstate at the next exit. Melanie turned toward him. No doubt you’re a lawyer.

Jeff sensed her studying him as he changed lanes. Why no doubt?

I’ve spent enough time at the courthouse to spot you legal beagles. Are you kin to Gretchen? Melanie asked.

Hardly.

You must be a celebrity of some kind, then. Possibly a star athlete?

He stole a glance at her. What makes you think that?

Mr. Wilcox hires his relatives and people with useful connections. You’re too young to be a retired politician. Maybe your father is a banker, old money?

For your information, Wilcox-Meyer occasionally hires a guy merely because he graduated at the top of his class in law school.

Really? Is that you? She briefly touched his sleeve. Did you pass the bar exam on the first try, too?

As a matter fact, I did.

After a moment, Melanie said, I’m impressed.

You should be, Jeff replied with a grin. After all, someone has to do the work all those celebrities bring in.

Yeah, and I’d bet mister sloppy drunk William Bentsen doesn’t carry his share of the load, not unless he’s a lot different at work than he is on a date. Melanie pulled at the front of her blouse. And to think, I bought this new top and had my hair done for him. What a chump I am. I should’ve listened to my dad.

Your father warned you not to go out with William?

Melanie exhaled noisily. Not him specifically. Dad has always told me to stay away from cops and lawyers.

So, what made you not listen? Were you dazzled by William’s good looks, or was it his charm?

I’ll bet you knock ‘em dead in the courtroom, with your quick wit and snappy repartee.

With a chuckle, Jeff replied, Well, you said you like sarcasm.

Correction. I used the word ‘tolerate’, not ‘like.’ She shifted in her seat. In a couple of miles, we’ll come to a farm road. Go left, or southwest to be more precise. After a moment, Melanie added. Gretchen talked me into going on a blind date. You know William’s a cousin to the Meyer family, right?

Wondering how he’d missed this tidbit, Jeff silently tucked it away for future reference. So that’s why the firm hired him. And that’s also why the Wilcox chauffeur was assigned to take William home instead of tossing him out on the street.

Anyway, Melanie went on. Having a date and going to a fancy party both sounded like a good idea at the time. Now I wish I’d stayed home with my dad and played checkers.

Jeff rarely spoke without thinking, but something about Melanie’s humor and honesty disarmed him. You live with your parents? Oops, I didn’t need to sound so shocked.

We lost Mom ten years ago. I have a little bungalow behind my dad’s house. After I graduated, I lived at home to pay off my student loans. She brushed at her blouse again. "This stain is never going to come out. By the time I could afford my own place, Grandma had passed away and I realized how lonely Dad would be, living out here by himself. So, I decided to move into Grandma’s place and stay,