PROLOGUE
Ten Years Ago
MIRANDA CAVANAUGH, Randi for short, was buzzed from the Christmas party. Yes, she might have had two glasses of wine but she was sobered enough to drive them home. Tim on the other hand had passed out in the passenger seat as soon as his head hit the back rest.
She looked over at her husband and wondered how she was going to get him inside. The last time she helped him she sprained her wrist when he stumbled and fell on her. Her father had never questioned it but she knew he was worried. Even she was beginning to worry.
They had been married a little over a year now. The first six months had been wonderful but since winning the election to the Maryland General Assembly last fall, Tim had started drinking more than usual. The kind, considerate husband became arrogant and aggressive as alcohol became a regular part of his day. She had learned to read his moods and stay out of his way. Wondered how long he would be able to hide it from his constituents.
Randi pulled up to the curb outside their Baltimore home, turned and stared at her husband once more. Ought to leave him in the car, she thought. He can come in when he wakes up.
Then she frowned. It wouldn’t look good for the neighbors in their gated community to see an up-and-coming Delegate passed out in his car.
She nudged him, but Tim was out cold. She slammed the door when she got out, hoping the noise and motion would waken him. But he was still passed out when she opened the passenger door and leaned in to unbuckle his seatbelt.
“Everything okay, Ms. Cavanaugh?”
Randi jumped, knocked her head against the door frame. She stood and smiled up at the stout security guard that patrolled their gated community. “Dave! You startled me! Yes. Yes, everything is fine. But Tim wasn’t feeling so well when we left the party. He fell asleep on the way home and I was just trying to awaken him so I can get him inside.”
Dave smiled. “Here,” he opened the door wider, “let me help. I’ve been in the same situation a couple times myself.”
Before Randi could object, Dave had Tim out of the car and leaning against him. Key in hand, Randi raced ahead to unlock the door while the men slowly made their way up the steps and into the house. Tim grunted when Dave settled him to the sofa.
Randi smiled at the security guard. “Thank you, Dave. You’re a lifesaver. I don’t know how I would have gotten him inside. Can I offer you a cup of coffee?”
“Nah. I’m about ready to go off duty. Wanted to make one last walk through the neighborhood. The wife is probably wondering where I am.”
Randi followed him to the door. “Well I certainly am glad you happened to be walking past our house! Stop by tomorrow and I’ll have a bag of homemade chocolate chip cookies for you.”
Dave laughed. “Now that I will gladly accept.”
Randi grinned as she closed the door and locked it. She turned to find Tim glaring at her from the sofa.
“Making a date with the security guard now?” He snarled.
Her mouth dropped open. “No. I was simply thanking him for helping me get you inside.”
“I didn’t need him,” he started to object.
“Tim! You were passed out!”
Tim glared then jumped up from the sofa and charged across the room. Before she realized his intentions, he had slapped her across the cheek. Her head struck the door behind her and she fell unconscious to the floor.
Seventy-five miles south of Baltimore, Deborah Gilman stood outside the Edmondsville Town Hall. She, Ginny, Brina, Marcie and Brad were having the time of their lives at the Annual Holly Ball Dance held the first Friday of each December.
She and Brina had stepped outside to cool off while the band took a break. When Brina turned to go back inside, Deborah said she wanted to stay a moment longer. She leaned against the railing on the concrete stoop and smiled up at the clear sky. She had never been so happy. The limo ride, the music, the fun with her friends.
But more importantly, she was sure Brad planned to propose to her. Just didn’t know when.
Ginny, Brina and Marcie certainly thought so. In fact, everyone in their small town seemed to expect it and she wondered if tonight would be the night. In the sparkling wonderland of the Holly Ball.
She and Brad had known each other all their lives. Their brother and sister relationship had blossomed into love six months ago when he cornered her in the library and kissed her. He had become so important to her. He loved her, listened to her, offered a shoulder to cry on. Gave her a reason to want to make something better for herself.
Her parents had died in a plane crash when she was three and she had been taken in by her mother’s sister and her husband. Claire and Tom saw to her needs but cared more for their own daughter. Myra had always been a handful and they never noticed she had her own confusion and abuse. There was so much she needed to share with Brad.
Now that she was twenty-one, Deborah looked forward to moving out on her own. She worked at the Library and squirrelled as much of her paychecks as she could. Another few months, and she’d have enough for a deposit on the Turner’s loft apartment on Elm Street.
Brad would be starting law school in the spring and was encouraging her to go back to the community college. She wouldn’t have a scholarship this time.
Maybe, she shrugged her shoulder. But right now, she just wanted to get out on her own. Prove to Claire and Tom that she could do it. Make something more of her life than their spoiled daughter.
She smiled. When Brad finished law school, they would get married and have a house full of children. Two boys and two girls. She would give them so much more than she had received from her aunt and uncle. She and Brad would take them places. Love them.
Deborah hugged herself, glanced up in time to see a star shoot across the night sky. She sighed. Hopefully that was a good sign.
She stepped towards the door to return to the dance but was startled to see a shadow.
“Think you’re going to hit it big with the Beckman kid?” Deborah recognized the voice. “I don’t think so.”
Before she could grab the door, the shadow lunged and slapped her across the face. Deborah fell unconscious as her head struck the concrete platform and she collapsed down the steps.
Deborah Gilman never made it back in to the Holly Ball.