CHAPTER THREE

Derek pulled up in front of Chloe’s condo. She hadn’t said a word the entire ride. She stared out the window and kept her body as far away from his as possible. Even if he hadn’t seen her scars last night, he would have known that she was wounded. Now that he had seen them, he wanted to track down whoever or whatever had done that to her and kill them with his bare hands. As soon as they drove up, she grabbed for the door handle with a look of relief on her face. He hated that she was so wary of him. Last night he seemed to make strides, breaking down the walls she had so carefully constructed. This morning they were back up, and they were thicker than ever.

“Will you call me?” he asked her.

She was already out of the car. “Probably not,” she said before closing the door. He sat there and watched her go inside, fighting the urge to go after her. She was so skittish right now though, and he knew that would only further alienate her. He finally put the little sports car in gear and headed for the Interstate. He needed to talk to his in-laws. He briefly considered taking the helicopter, but he quickly realized that he needed some time himself to get his thoughts in order. He promised Chloe he wouldn’t say anything about her and he intended to keep that promise. So, he needed to find a way to ask questions without including her in the reason why.

As Derek drove he replayed what he knew about Sarah’s parents and her twin through his head. His thoughts went back to his first meeting with them. Trevor owned a real estate firm in Manhattan. He dealt in high end real estate and Derek had a client he had sold business property to who was looking to re-locate from Rhode Island to Manhattan. The client had very detailed ideas about what he was looking for and very specific tastes. He’d had a falling out with more than one agent in New York and couldn’t seem to find one that was willing to go the extra mile for him the way that Derek was with his business investments. He was Derek’s most lucrative client at the time and in order to foster a closer business relationship, Derek had taken on the task himself of finding the best real estate agent in New York to work with him. The client had very detailed ideas about what he was looking for and very specific tastes.

Derek had hired people to gather detailed data on every real estate firm in the city. Once he had that information, he had them gather specific data on every executive with the firms that had come in first. What he was left with in the end was the name of someone who for whatever reason didn’t ring any bells on the social end of the spectrum…but on the real estate end, Derek couldn’t find a single dissatisfied client or a single hint of a shady deal anywhere in the man’s thirty year history of being licensed in the state. The man’s name was Trevor Whitemore, and Derek arranged a dinner meeting with him and his wife who was his business partner.

They had met him at a posh upscale restaurant in Manhattan and almost as soon as they said hello, Derek had a good feeling about them. He was a tall, powerful looking man with dark brown hair with flecks of gray at the sides. His eyes were dark brown, and there was something warm and welcoming about them. He was fifty-five at the time, but if you colored the gray hair, you would be left with a man who looked like a forty year old in excellent shape. Something about him exuded competence while at the same time exuding warmth and fostering a sense of trust with just a simple look.

Mrs. Whitemore was a petite woman who also looked much younger than her fifty-three years. Her hair was a pretty golden blonde color, and it framed her petite face. Her eyes were the color of milk chocolate and framed by the longest eyelashes that Derek had ever seen. She wore very little make-up, and if he had to guess, he would say that her youthfulness was natural and didn’t come about at the hands of a surgeon or a needle as many women he met in his business had found theirs.

They both exuded a sense of class and dignity but yet there were no airs about either one. They still held hands, and she laughed at her husband’s lame jokes. Derek found himself enchanted by them and guiltily, wishing that he had parents like them instead of the social ladder climbing ones that he’d drawn. Derek didn’t have many issues with his parents and he more than appreciated everything they had done for him. But Derek had always found himself longing for something more real. That’s what attracted him to these people the most.

He had explained to Trevor what he was looking for and by the end of the evening; he had set up a meeting between him and his client. Derek agreed to attend the first meeting, and if all went well, he would bow out from there. That was the first time he had walked into Trevor and Samantha’s offices. They were located in the heart of the business district in Manhattan, but when you walked in off the busy street, it was like time stopped. The waiting room wasn’t decorated with modern designer fabrics and colors like every other one in the city. This one made you feel like you were walking into someone’s living room. They served you sweet tea, and what tasted like homemade cookies and when they called you back, you were so comfortable that you didn’t want to leave.

Derek and his client Todd were led back to Trevor’s office by his receptionist. She was a red-headed young lady with legs that went on for miles, and as they walked down the quaintly decorated hallway, Derek found himself admiring them. He had barely glanced up as they came to the end of the hall and noticed the petite blonde coming out of Trevor’s office.

Derek heard her say, “Thank you, Daddy. I’ll call you when I get there.”

The sound of her voice was sweet, and that was what first drew his attention, but once his eyes found hers, he saw something in those beautiful brown eyes that exuded safety and warmth. In just that one look he felt like he was “home.” The woman passed them, and she smiled. Derek lost all train of thought after that. He had to force himself to focus during their meeting, and when it was over, he couldn’t bring himself to leave until he knew who she was.

He had asked Trevor. “Was that your daughter we saw leaving earlier?”

Trevor’s face lit up the room when he said, “Yes, that’s our Sarah.”

“She’s a beautiful young lady,” Derek told him. “Does she work here?”

“No, Sarah didn’t develop the interest in real estate that her mother and I did. She’s a student at Rhode Island School of Design. She’s fine arts major. Sarah’s an artist and a very talented one.”

Derek wasn’t superstitious, but something told him that day that it was fate. It was fate that he had met the Whitemore’s and fate that led him to the office on the day Sarah was in town and fate that she currently lived in the same city that he held an office in. He had lodged an all-out pursuit of the beautiful young woman, and within six months they were engaged, and they were married the following year.

Derek loved his life with Sarah and the night she died he thought that nothing could ever repair the damage done to his heart and soul. It was like a piece of him would be eternally missing. He had gone through the motions of life over the next two years because he didn’t really have any other choice but his outlook on life had become monochromatic, and the only time he saw anything in vivid color any longer was when he spent time with the people who had loved her as much as he did until the day he met Chloe. He believed that fate had led him to her as well and he wasn’t going to let her go without a fight.

Trevor and Samantha lived in a two-story five-thousand square foot Saxon style home in Albany adjacent to Saratoga Lake. It was a beautiful home set on expansive grounds, but yet the home, like the Whitemore’s was very unassuming.

Instead, it conveyed a feeling of comfort and warmth and made Derek feel at peace in his heart just by walking through the door.

Derek pulled into the circular cobblestone drive and sat there for a few moments trying to figure out what the best way to approach this would be. They were going to wonder why he was asking so many questions about something that happened long before he had entered their lives. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it up to the photo he carried there of Sarah. Running a finger along the smooth line of her pretty cheek he said, “Wish me luck, my love.”

“Derek, are you coming in?” Trevor was at the door now, undoubtedly wondering what his son-in-law was doing sitting in the car in the driveway. Derek took a deep breath and stepped out. Trevor greeted him with a hug and a hearty clap on the back as always, but the older man’s smile faded as he looked at Derek’s face.

“Are you okay son? Come in and tell me what’s troubling you.”

Derek followed Trevor into the living room. It always reminded him of something you would see in the country or maybe a cottage in Nantucket. He loved it here. Samantha was sitting in one of the oversized chairs with a roll of yarn in her lap, and a cat curled up on either side of her. She started to get up when she saw Derek.

“No, don’t get up,” he told her. He went to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

She patted his face and said, “You get more handsome every time I see you. But, your eyes look sad. What’s wrong, Derek?”

He smiled. These people knew him so well that getting anything past them was going to be next to impossible. “Nothing is wrong,” he said, glancing from Samantha to her husband. “I just need to ask you both some things, and I’m not sure where to start or even how to go about it.”

Samantha put her knitting down, and Trevor took a seat next to her. “Sit down, Derek,” Samantha told him. He took the seat opposite them, and she said “Do you need anything to drink, or eat? Have you eaten?”

Food was a big part of the way Samantha expressed her love to her family. If someone didn’t know better, they might expect both her and her husband to be abnormally large people.

He smiled again, “No thank you, Samantha. I’m fine.”

“Okay then,” she said, “Tell us what’s on your mind. If there’s something you need, all you have to do is ask; you know that.”

“I do know that,” he said, “Thank you. The questions I have for you are about a very difficult subject. For the two of you.”

“Is it about Sarah?” Trevor asked. The only thing in either of their lives that had been difficult enough that they’d had trouble moving past it were the deaths of their daughters.

“Sort of,” he said. “Can you tell me about when Sarah and her sister were born? Where were you? Who else was there? Who told you that the one baby had died?”

“Of course Derek,” Samantha said, “But why?”

He looked from her face to Trevor’s. He could see that the loss of that child showed as fresh on them both now as if it had happened twenty-four days rather than twenty-four years ago. There was no way that Chloe was right when she had suggested they had given up one of their children.

“Can I ask you to trust that when I can tell you, I will? I wouldn’t bring up such a painful subject for you if it wasn’t important, but I can’t tell you why I’m bringing it up without breaking the confidence of someone who is just coming around to trusting me.”

Trevor and Samantha exchanged a look, and Samantha said, “They were born at St. Peter’s Hospital in Albany. The doctor, mid-wife, and nurses were the only ones there other than Trevor and me. The doctor was the one who told us she was gone.” She had tears in her eyes and Derek said, “I’m so sorry, Samantha.”

Smiling through her tears, she said, “It’s okay honey. It’s silly that it still upsets me all of these years later. I wanted to see her, and they wouldn’t let me. They said my blood pressure was up and it would upset me too much. It was such a difficult time. I was ecstatic over Sarah. She was so beautiful. But I was having guilt over being so happy when one of my children was laying in a box a few doors down.” The tears were streaming down her cheeks now. Trevor had his arm around her shoulders, and Derek felt horrible for upsetting her. He apologized again and wiping her tears with a handkerchief her husband handed to her she said, “Please stop apologizing Derek. Talking about the girls is the only way we have now to keep them alive. Yes, it makes me sad to consider the loss of two beautiful souls, but it also gives me the joy to know that they live on in our hearts.”

“What else did you need to know, Derek?” Trevor asked him.

“Is there any possibility— even the remotest of possibilities that the child you gave birth to lived?