Adrift, page 7
Becca Sandoza.
“I’ll be damned,” he muttered to himself, and went back down the steps to look around more.
A wooden gate blocked off the backyard—unlocked. He lifted the latch and it opened into a small yard with a tidy lawn and a flower border that looked professionally maintained against the back fence. A small patio sat off the French doors at the back of the house. Palm trees were clustered around it, a hammock strung between two of the trunks.
There were floodlights back here, and he spotted two security cameras. But still nothing like he’d expected. Shit, unless there was some upgraded, hidden system inside, he could easily bypass this.
Avoiding the cameras’ range, he hugged the foundation of the house and paused to look through a window on the first floor. It was open a few inches, but locked from the inside. Still, through the gap at the edge of the curtains he could see inside to what must be the living room.
His gaze cut right to the framed photo of Becca and Sofia sitting on the mantelpiece. He clenched his jaw, staring a hole through Sofia’s smiling face. It must have been taken fairly recently. She’d aged, but she was still beautiful, and the sight of her still haunted him. Still a beautiful, traitorous whore.
Without him, she would have been nothing. She would have died, and her precious daughter tossed into foster care.
He’d put a roof over their heads, put up with the brat’s whining when she was little, because Sofia was the best product he’d ever owned. He hadn’t expected to fall in love with her.
And then she’d left him for dead and taken off with the kid he’d housed, fed and clothed for almost a decade.
He wrenched his eyes from the picture and took another look at the back of the house. It was more private back here than anywhere else on the property. The neighbors were less likely to notice him here. And from what he could see, this downstairs window was his easiest point of entry into the house.
Even if she set the alarm when she was home, it didn’t matter. He would still have lots of time to get out if he triggered it while breaking in.
I can get to you anytime I want.
Power surged through him, mixing with the hatred burning in his soul. She’d almost ruined him all those years ago, by taking Sofia from him.
He’d always known that women were lying, deceitful and manipulative bitches. But he’d never imagined a thirteen-year-old girl could do so much damage.
He was finally making her pay for it. But it wasn’t enough. He would make her pay with more than just money.
She’d taunted him for too long. Tonight he would show her what happened to those who crossed him.
****
Becca tapped her toes on the living room rug, antsy and restless. She’d been waiting to hear back about a dream project for a while now, and the silence was driving her nuts.
She called her agent. “Hey, Janet. Any word from Pixar yet on a casting decision?” She had done an audition reel for an animated character in a feature film they were doing, and had been on pins and needles about the part ever since.
“Sorry, no,” Janet said. “I’ll call my contact there this afternoon and nudge him. See if he can give me a ballpark anyway.”
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that. And if you hear of any other voice work that might fit, let me know.”
“I will.”
“Good.” This animated feature was a dream project. She loved the script, the vision. The other actors being offered roles were people she’d been dying to work with, and hell, this was Pixar they were talking about. Whatever shit she was dealing with in her personal life due to Rick, she sure could use the extra income.
“Anyway, it’s Saturday night and we’re both working at home. We’re lame.”
Becca laughed. “I cherish my downtime and guard it jealously.”
“Don’t I know this. So, who’s your hot date for tonight, Netflix or Acorn?”
“Charlotte Bronte, actually. I’m just starting Jane Eyre.”
Janet laughed. “You’re a wild one. Definitely my most difficult client, always causing trouble and getting in the tabloids.”
“I know, right? You must be sick of me.”
“Nah, you help keep me sane. Well, enjoy your book. I’ll contact you once I hear anything.”
Becca ended the call, put on the kettle to make a cup of chamomile tea, then carried it up to her bedroom. She changed into her comfiest pajamas, slipped on a plush robe, and stretched out on the tufted velvet chaise lounge tucked in the corner to read.
Her imagination turned the descriptions into vivid images of the windswept Yorkshire moors. She could feel the cold breath of the wind, smell the heather on it as she stood poised in front of the Thornfield Hall, an ominous foreboding taking hold…
A sound broke her concentration. She looked up, then stilled, wondering if she’d only imagined something coming from downstairs a few seconds ago.
She’d set the alarm when she’d come in the door, but then she’d gone outside into the backyard for a bit. Had she locked those doors when she’d come back in?
Unsettled, she got up and started for the door. Two steps from it, the alarm blared.
She jumped, a cry locking in her throat. Shit, had someone broken in?
Turning, she raced back to the window where she’d left her phone on the sill, her hands shaking as she quickly dialed 911. Before it could connect, the alarm company called her.
“Miss Sandoza, are you all right?”
She grabbed the two halves of her robe near the neckline and clutched them together, heart thudding against her ribs, her gaze fixed on her closed bedroom door. “Yes, but I think someone just broke into my house.” She didn’t have a weapon.
“Okay, I’m dispatching the police now. Stay calm, and stay on the line with me.”
“I—” She broke off, whirling to face the window when shouts came from the front of her house.
“Hey!” someone yelled as a shadowy silhouette raced across her front lawn and out of view down the sidewalk. A second later, a man appeared on her driveway, phone to his ear.
“Miss Sandoza? What’s happening?”
Becca relayed what she’d seen, willing her heart to slow down. Whoever it had been was halfway up the block by now.
Someone pounded on her front door moments later, sending another wave of fear through her until she reasoned that anyone wanting to break in wasn’t going to knock first.
“Becca? Becca, it’s Rob from next door.”
“My neighbor’s at the door,” she said to the woman on the other end of the phone.
“Stay on the line with me.”
“I will.” Her legs were a little rubbery as she left her room and cautiously started down the stairs, searching for any sign of an intruder. After checking the peephole to make sure it was her neighbor standing there, she opened the door and put a hand to her chest, allowing herself her first deep breath. “Hi.”
His gaze swept over her in concern before scanning the room behind her. He was in his mid-fifties, balding, and judging by the bat in his hands and the look on his face, he was prepared to do battle for her. “You okay?”
“Yes. The alarm scared him off. Did you see him?”
“Not really, just got a quick glimpse. The cops on the way?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll stay with you until they get here.”
Becca let him in and shut the door, letting out a deep breath. Tonight had convinced her what she’d already known inside. The neighborhood she loved was no longer safe for her.
A buzz from her phone startled her. And when she read the message, sudden tears stung her eyes.
I need more money. By Friday night. 300k this time.
Shit, now she desperately needed to find a way to make more money—in a hurry.
More than that, she wanted to escape this hell she was trapped in.
Chapter Eight
“Something wrong, honey? You seem distracted.”
Becca looked away from the rolling Atlantic in front of her and focused on her mom, standing behind her in the doorway that led to the patio of the exclusive, long-term recovery center her mother lived in with a handful of staff and two other full-time residents here in Myrtle Beach.
The three-story, Grecian-revival heritage home had been converted into a luxurious lobby and high-end, fully private apartments. Becca paid for her mom to have the entire top floor all to herself, which included an en suite guestroom.
“No, everything’s fine,” she lied. “Guess I’m just tired still.”
“That’s understandable.” Her mom came out and sat beside her on the rocking glider, stretching an arm across her shoulders, wearing a long-sleeved shirt even though it was warm out, to hide the needle track scars she loathed so much.
“Maybe the time change is catching up with you.”
She murmured in agreement, not about to burden her mother with all the problems going on in her life. That break-in had shaken her pretty badly, and the new demand from Rick had made it worse. There also had been no word yet on the Pixar project, and she needed the money desperately.
“I just needed a break. Been working so much lately, I wanted to unwind for a few days, and there’s nobody I’d rather spend them with than you.”
Her mom chuckled and squeezed her. “I love it when you come to visit. It’s just like old times, getting to hang out together, just the two of us.”
Not like old times. The times after that. After Rick. When her mom had fought to turn herself around and changed their lives.
It hadn’t been easy. Her mom’s drug and alcohol addiction had made it rough. Becca had nearly lost her a few times.
She vividly remembered being pulled out of class by a school counselor to inform her that her mother was in the hospital. They’d told her she was sick, but even back then Becca had known the truth. Her mom had overdosed.
It wasn’t the first time. And it hadn’t been the last. But hopefully that was all over now. Becca had forgiven her. She would never forget, however.
“I’m glad I came,” she said, happy to have a few thousand miles between her and LA. She didn’t feel safe there right now. Especially at home.
All the police had been able to glean from the security video at her house and her neighbors’ porch cams was that the suspect was a middle-aged man. He’d worn a hat and face mask and left no prints except for some footprints in the garden bed beneath her living room window. It made her skin crawl to think of someone staking out her house, maybe watching her through the windows before breaking in.
Stalkers were something to be taken seriously. Her newfound fame had made her a target. Before she went back home, she would have to upgrade her security and hire a bodyguard. It sucked and she resented the need for it, but it couldn’t be avoided any longer.
She loved her neighborhood and her neighbors, who all looked out for each other, but she had to move to a more private and secure place and think about hiring personal security. It would put her in the hole financially, but if she had to choose between debt and a threat to her life, then debt it was.
She tucked her legs up under her, wishing she could offload everything she’d been carrying on her shoulders for so long. She couldn’t shake the unsettling notion that the guy who’d broken in could be tied to Rick somehow.
She hadn’t been able to convey her fears about him to the police, however. It would bring up too many questions. Questions she wasn’t willing to answer, because the risk was too great if something got leaked. The woman beside her was the only reason she needed to keep everything buried.
“You sure you still want to leave this afternoon? I’d love you to stay longer,” her mom said.
“I’m going to drive down to Savannah for a day or two.” She needed a few days to herself, to regroup and recharge in the little house she’d rented on the river before she had to face the world again. Maybe she could even figure out a plan to get herself out of this mess while she was there. “But I might come back and stay with you for a little while after that.”
“Whatever works for you. You know you’re always welcome here.”
Becca smiled. “I know.”
This private facility had saved her mom’s life, no doubt about it. It had been Becca’s last hope in the battle to save her mom and help her overcome her addictions. Now it was her mom’s permanent home, providing continuous care and support for her ongoing fight to stay clean.
It felt more like a posh hotel than a rehab facility. In addition to counseling and group therapy, this place offered housekeeping, gourmet meals if she wanted them, art and music workshops, exercise classes and countless other activities to keep her busy. And the staff were paid well enough to be discreet. Becca was far safer here from the paparazzi than she was back in LA.
No wonder her mom didn’t want to leave. She was happy here. Safe. That was worth any amount of money and stress over paying for it.
Worth any amount to protect the only family she had left. She hated her mom’s previous lifestyle, even as she understood why her mother had become an addict. Choosing love and forgiveness was the only thing that tempered the resentment she harbored from everything that had happened.
She laid her head on her mom’s shoulder and the two of them lapsed into silence, staring out at the sparkling ocean together, the rocker gliding gently beneath them. She would have felt completely at peace if it hadn’t been for Rick’s extortion and the recent security scare.
That, and if she didn’t still feel so bad about the way she’d ended things with Chase.
“Have you talked to Chase lately?”
Becca sat up, startled. “What?” She’d told her mom about him a few times. But not about what had happened between them that night six weeks ago.
Her mom gave her a sympathetic look. “Sweetie, I’m not blind. You said things didn’t work out between you, but I can tell you’re still hung up on him, and the Outer Banks isn’t that far from here.”
“No, I haven’t heard from him.” The Outer Banks was only a few hours’ drive north.
Her assistant was keeping loose tabs on him, and told her Chase was home right now, in between projects. The movie industry was bumpy like that, and almost never secure, even for someone like her.
She hoped he got more work soon. He was good at what he did, and he deserved success. She wanted the best for him.
“So? If you miss him, you should call him.”
“I can’t. It would be too awkward now.”
She owed him an apology for taking off without an explanation and not returning his calls and texts. But if she gave it, it would open her up to a whole lot of questions and explanations she wasn’t ready to give. And…she wasn’t sure she had the will to walk away from him a second time.
Coward.
Maybe. But life had taught her to guard her heart carefully. She’d sworn never to let a man have that kind of power over her, and deep down she knew that emotionally, Chase posed the greatest threat to her yet.
“I just want you to be happy,” her mom said in concern, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead.
Becca leaned in and hugged her tight. Forgiveness. Healing. They both needed it so badly. “I know. I love you.”
Her mom rubbed her back. “Love you too, mija.”
An hour later Becca put her bags into the trunk of her rental car and set the bag lunch her mom had packed for her on the passenger seat. Her mom stood on the brick walkway out front of the white-columned mansion, waving.
Becca blew her a kiss and fought the sting of tears as she drove away. It was stupid to get so emotional every time she left her mom, but it was so ingrained in her. For so long she’d worried that each time she said goodbye would be the last. Because every time, her mom had lapsed back into her addictions.
Now it was different, she told herself. Her mom was finally safe, surrounded by others who truly cared about and valued her, in a place where she was content. Becca would give every last penny she had to make sure her mom stayed that way.
She stopped at a gas station to fill up before leaving town. Back in the car she checked her phone for messages, and her chest constricted when she read the final text from an unknown number.
Got the money together yet? Clock’s ticking.
Rick.
Becca gritted her teeth, fighting the urge to throw her damn phone out the window just to watch it smash to pieces on the pavement. It wouldn’t help. Wouldn’t make this go away.
Nothing could. Not the cops. Not even the FBI, who she’d thought about contacting so many times to make this all stop.
Rick’s demands always made her stomach drop, but this time the amount he wanted pushed her close to tears of frustration and helplessness. Between his greedy demands, her own modest bills and paying to keep her mom in the private facility, she had nothing left. Not even after the last two big contracts she’d signed.
This would wipe out her savings and most of her investments she’d so carefully been tucking away.
God, it was ironic. Most of her life she’d dreamed of being a famous actress one day. She’d never imagined being this miserable after becoming one.
On the surface, it looked like she had it all. In reality, it was all an illusion. As fake as her stage name and public persona.
She clenched the steering wheel, torn. Part of her wanted to drive back to her mom’s to sit her down and talk to her about this. Tell her everything, because this couldn’t go on.
But that was impossible. Becca would never risk triggering her and sending her back into another relapse. It was too dangerous. Her mom had cheated death too many times, and Becca was terrified that one more would be the end.
“No, stop it. She’s safe.” She and her mom had different last names.
No one but Rick, her assistant, and the people at her mom’s facility would be able to link them, and Becca tried her best to stay out of the media anyway, unless she was doing publicity for a film or charity event.
Weariness stole over her. She’d never felt so alone, wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep doing this. She leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes, fighting the despair threatening to send her back into another pit of depression.
