The Other Secret

The Other Secret

J. E. McKnight

Dream Write Publishing Ltd.

P.O. Box 57083 RPO Eastgate

Sherwood Park AB T8A 5L7

Canada

www.dreamwritepublishing.ca

Copyright ©2017 J. E. McKnight

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the author, except for quotations in book reviews and interviews. Please contact the publisher for use. Dream Write Publishing and the author are committed to providing quality literary products for all ages and provide the following in-house book rating:

Adult Fiction - Suspense

Profanity/language = (2); violence = (4); Sex/nudity = (2)

The Other Secret

ISBN # 978-1-988723-11-2

Cover Design: Art by Joe

Library and Archives Canada Cataloging in Publication

The Other Secret

McKnight, J. E. (b. June 20, 1975 -)

Gibbons AB

Print-on-Demand in the US by CreateSpace

Look for this novel in E-Book on Smashwords and Amazon

This book is dedicated to my mom,

Edith McKnight.

It was at her request to try and write a thriller

without a sci-fi twist.

I am proud of the final product.

A special thanks to the Edmonton Police Service

for their cooperation in my research efforts.

I would like to thank my family—

my wife, Robyn,

parents, Andrew and Edith,

brother, Patrick,

sister, Tara, brother-in-law, Dwayne,

and my younger brother, Jackson.

Some secrets are fires so scorching, the only way to quench the burn is to tell someone.

~Terri Guillemets

Chapter Listing

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Other Books by this Author

About the Author

Chapter One

All outward appearances pointed to it being a beautiful, cheery Saturday afternoon, but that wasn’t the case for the friends and family of the Abners. The hot sun shone bright through a cloudless sky. A soft breeze traveled between the tombstones, scattering leaves around the yard and rustling the ones that had not yet fallen to the ground. Danielle Abner appreciated the abnormal early fall weather. She felt it was the perfect send off for her baby boy, not the contrasting conditions, which filled her mind and heart to have to bury such a young child. What angered her the most were the unanswered questions surrounding his death.

Danielle stood with her arm around her husband, David, as they listened to the preacher speak about their only child. She dabbed at her eyes, cursing her damned glasses for getting in the way. The overwhelming sense of pain and loss only increased as the casket began its slow descent into the grave. The grip she had on David’s arm tightened with every foot. She could not take her eyes off the flowers they previously laid on the top of the casket, until they were at the bottom of the hole.

As they walked through the graveyard, the couple was constantly approached by fellow mourners wishing to offer their condolences. Danielle acted as if she didn’t see any of them and those who did manage to stop the grieving mother in her tracks seemed to be unable to get through to her. She just hung onto her husband’s arm and nodded as she stared with a blank expression across her face.

When they finally made it back to the car, David opened her door and assisted her into the vehicle. From the time he closed the passenger door to the time he walked around to the driver’s side his wife was already turned to face the back and the child’s seat they had not yet taken out of the car. The little stuffed lion still sat, perched in Conner’s chair, waiting for his master to return to play with him. The week since he passed had been much of the same thing. Every toy, piece of baby furniture, and room in the house contained memories of his short life. Continuing forward from this point would certainly be a struggle.

I’m afraid I’m not handling Conner’s death very well, Doctor. Danielle lay on Dr. Brandon’s couch; her face buried in her hands.

That’s to be expected, Mrs. Abner. The loss of a child, especially one as young as your son, is never easy. We’ll deal with these issues for the next few weeks and see how you’re progressing with everything. He scribbled his notes onto a pad of paper. Today I’d like to discuss your first son. What can you tell me about him?

Danielle turned her head to face her therapist and removed her hands from her face. What good would that do? I already told you about him. He has nothing to do with this.

You told me the basic details about your son and the situation, but I would like to explore it in more depth. This would have been your first experience in dealing with the loss of a child. In fact, at that age, dealing with loss in any form would be new.

Okay, but it was a really long time ago.

Tell me anyway.

And though that might have been my first experience in dealing the loss of a child, I also had a couple of miscarriages before we had Conner.

We’ll get to that in a moment, Mrs. Abner. Right now, I would like you to focus only on your first born.

Okay, well, his name is Jordon. I was fifteen when I became pregnant with him. I was just over sixteen when I gave birth to him.

You mentioned before, Mr. Abner wasn’t the father of Jordon. Whatever happened to his birth father?

I don’t know really. We went to different schools; we hooked up once after a basketball game our two schools were playing in. Once he found out I was pregnant, I never saw him again. He stopped taking my calls and he never went to another school function after that; at least, that I know of. I was so scared. I didn’t know what else to do. I was too young to raise a baby on my own. I figured the best thing I could do for Jordon was give him up for adoption.

That was a very wise thing to do – very mature, actually. When you first mentioned this to me, you said you still weren’t able to bring it up to your husband. Have you been able to tell him since then?

No. He still doesn’t know.

And why do you think you haven’t told him, yet?

I’m not sure. I suppose, at first, I didn’t know how he would react to the news and then, as time passed, it made it harder to bring up. After that, I was afraid he’d be upset at my keeping it from him.

Have you had any contact with Jordon since the adoption?

I received a phone call sometime after his fourteenth birthday. The adoptive parents made arrangements with the agency to find me. Since then, we meet every couple of months to hang out and catch up. He’s sixteen now.

What do you two talk about when you get together?

I don’t know. Danielle swung her feet around until she was in a seated position. She took a sip of her coffee and peered at the doctor from over her mug. We discuss normal things, I guess. I ask him how things are with his family and friends; if he has any girlfriends. I ask him about school and the sports he plays. I just want to get to know him better. We have a lot of years to catch up on.

And, what about him? Does he ask you a lot of questions about your life?

Of course. I’ve told him about David and Conner. If there’s anything new happening in my life, I tell him all about it. For the most part, he seems quite interested in what I tell him, but I guess he can seem distracted or bored – that’s normal for a teenage boy. He just wants to go out with his friends and not be talking with his birth mom.

How do you think he felt about hearing about your pregnancy?

It seemed as if he was excited, at first, but then he appeared distant after that. He even cancelled a few meetings – one before Conner was born and two after he was born. He doesn’t even know we lost him. Tears welled up in Danielle’s eyes and she reached for a tissue from the box on a nearby table. Conner was only seven months old. At his last check up, the doctor said he looked happy and healthy and he was developing at a normal rate. The doctor also seemed pleased with Conner’s weight. How could something like that happen to a perfectly healthy baby? We thought we were so lucky when he was born. We thought we were finally being blessed with a child after trying for so long. Why was he taken from us?

I don’t know the answers to that, Mrs. Abner. The truth is we still have no idea what causes SIDS. Why don’t you tell me a little more about your miscarriages?

Chapter Two

The moonlight shone through the kitchen window, casting shadows across the floor. Danielle flipped the light on and padded into the room for a glass of water. The flannel pajamas and fuzzy green slippers she wore that evening were the same ones she had worn all week; aside from Monday when she was forced to change out of her sleepwear to go to her psychiatry appointment. Besides the funeral and her appointments with Dr. Brandon, Danielle never left the house. Her husband would have to run all the errands, while she hung around the house in her pajamas. It was only in the third week since her baby died that she would actually climb out of bed for more than a trip to the bathroom or kitchen. After her latest appointment, she managed to pick up the mess in the living room. On Tuesday, she tackled the dishes. By the time Friday rolled around, she managed to find the strength to take out the garbage. She still never bothered to change out of her flannels and, at that point, she didn’t care what her neighbours thought or if they could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Now it was Sunday evening. Another weekend had passed uneventfully. No matter how many people wished to come by and cheer her up, she just wasn’t ready to see anybody. She took her water into the living room and sat in her favourite reclining chair that she turned towards the window after Conner’s passing. She stared out at the clear night sky; the soft moonlight lit up the otherwise dark room.

Are you sure? There’s no one else who can do this job? I haven’t had a full day of work since Conner died. I’m not sure I’m ready for an out of town job.

David peeked into the living room at his wife sitting in the dark, staring with a blank expression out the window. He went into the bedroom at the end of the hall so his wife wouldn’t hear the rest of what he had to say.

And I’m pretty sure Danielle isn’t ready for me to be gone for a week. She’s just starting to come around, but it’s a slow process and I’m afraid my absence might send any progress she’s made spiraling backwards. All her hard work will be undone. Fine, but let me talk to her first before I make my decision.

David disconnected the call and set his cell phone on the dresser. As he left their room and made his way back to the living room, he listened for signs his wife got up from her chair or at the very least turned it to face the TV so she could watch something besides the darkness outside the window. He needed something that would tell him she would be okay in his absence. But he heard nothing. Maybe, he thought, she has become too dependent on my being here. It might be good for her to have to do some of the stuff around here herself.

He approached his wife’s chair and placed his hand against her bare arm. He caressed her soft skin with each gentle stroke as he knelt to her level. Hi, honey, how are you doing today?

It’s quiet today.

Is quiet good? You could always turn on the TV or stereo.

Quiet is good. Music and TV are too distracting.

I think you could use a good distraction, Danielle. Maybe if you had more distractions in your day you would spend less time thinking about Conner and you wouldn’t be so sad all the time.

Of course I feel sad. We lost our little boy. Right now, it would just feel wrong if I didn’t feel sad.

I miss him, too, but we need to get on with our lives. You’re allowed to miss him; even feel sad, but don’t let it consume you. He took her hand into both of his and looked up into her eyes. I have something to talk to you about, honey.

Danielle took her eyes off the window and looked into her husband’s eyes, fearful of what he was going to ask. Would she be ready for whatever it was?

I just got a call from work. There’s a job five hours out of town and I’m the only one they have who can go.

Her grip on the right arm of the chair tightened. He felt the pressure from her left hand as well. How long would you be gone for?

There’s some duct work that needs to be insulated. I’ll be gone from Monday to Friday.

A week? I’m not sure I can handle that.

I know you can. I’ve been gone a lot longer than a week in the past. Your mom isn’t too far if you need something and you can always call me day or night and I’ll answer. It won’t matter if I’m at work or sleeping. I don’t want you to hesitate in calling me.

You’ll be so far away. What will you be able to do from there?

I wouldn’t be able to do much in the immediate sense, but if you need someone to talk to, I’ll make myself available to lend an ear. If there’s something you need that requires immediate attention, you need to call your mom; if there’s an emergency, you need to call 911. I know this is going to be a big adjustment for you right now, but I know you can handle this and getting outside will make you feel better.

Danielle leaned back in her chair and rolled her eyes back to stare up at the ceiling. I don’t want you to go. You’ve been such a great comfort for me.

I’ll call you every day. You’ll be hearing from me even more than you normally would. Work be damned.

Couldn’t you just damn work and not go? It’s too soon.

David pulled her hand towards him and wrapped his opposite arm around her back and embraced her. You know I can’t. Just know I love you and I will get back to you as soon as I can. He kissed her on the lips and he could feel her tension drain from her body – for that moment anyway. Now, I want to be sure you’re going to be okay while I’m gone. Could you do me a favour and shower and change into some regular clothes?

It’s almost bed time. What’s the point?

I just want to see it. If I can see you all showered and dressed, then I can feel better about going away.

But I don’t want you to feel better about going away. I want you to feel guilty so you decide not to go.

I have to go. Please, do this for me?

David was right about that shower. I feel so much better. As her head hit the pillow she felt her eyelids get heavy – a feeling she was not yet used to. In the past few weeks she would lay awake for hours before finally falling asleep. Her husband didn’t seem to have the same problem she did. How does he do it? I know he cares about Conner as much I do and I know he misses him. I keep catching him holding Conner’s stuffed toys and his baby blanket. Suddenly, all went dark and sleep took her.

The sound of footfalls from down the hall startled her awake. Danielle sat bolt upright and clutched the duvet to her face. Her heart pounded in her chest as she rolled over to wake David, but he wasn’t lying next to her. She furrowed her brow and checked the time on the alarm clock. Two-thirty. He couldn’t have left yet. Maybe it was him I heard. It’s really unlike him to get up through the night, though.

Danielle opened their bedroom door as slowly as she could and peeked through the space between.

David, she whispered. David, are you there?

There was no response, but a shuffling sound came from the end of the hall. That sounded like it came from the garage. She opened the door all the way and crept down the carpeted hallway, careful not to make a creaking sound that would alert a possible intruder. She checked inside every room she came to before carefully proceeding.

A light from the garage shone from under the door. Danielle Abner reached, with a sweaty palm, for the door knob to the garage. Her heart sped up as she noticed the door was ajar. David never leaves the door open. Her head shot around to check behind her. She scanned the kitchen and dining room, but there was nothing out of place. She turned to face the door once again. The shuffling sound and a loud bang came from the garage again. Someone is definitely in there. She grabbed the nearby coat rack, dumped the jackets from its hooks, and used the base of the rack to push the door open. The hinges creaked and she froze.

Hey! Who is that? I have a gun, do not be stupid. David’s voice erupted from the back of the garage. Danielle never heard him so angry before.

David, it’s me. Danielle spoke in her timid voice as she set the coat rack down and entered the garage. Even after hearing her husband’s voice she still took her time entering his domain. She didn’t know why, but there was something still very unsettling about the whole situation. What are you doing out here? You never come out here this early in the morning. You should get some rest. You have to leave in a few hours for your trip.

I’m sorry if I startled you, honey. I heard something. It sounded like someone was in the garage. I had to check it out. I see no sign, so far, that anyone was out here. It was probably a stray cat or the neighbour’s dog. It’s probably nothing to get upset about. He approached her, took her by the hand, and gave her a peck on the cheek as he passed by her and entered the house.

Danielle smiled, flipped the light switch to the off position, and followed her husband back to the bedroom.

Danielle watched from the kitchen window as her husband’s company truck backed out the driveway. The taste of his kiss remained on her lips. As much as it pained her to see him leave for the week, she managed to form a smile as she thought about the morning she spent with her husband. She awoke refreshed for the first time in weeks. He had been right about the shower. Not only did it clean weeks of stench from her skin and hair, but it also relaxed her and she got to enjoy an entire night’s sleep, aside from the brief interruption caused by the mysterious noise from the garage. Before she even opened her eyes that morning, the smell of breakfast cooking beckoned her. She knew she would miss his cooking until he returned. As she got ready to head for breakfast, she decided to slip out of her pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. After all, it seemed to be important to him and he did, after all, go to a lot of trouble to get up early and cook a nice breakfast for her.

Well, I guess it’s just me now for the next week. I sure hope it goes by fast. It sure would be nice if we had a cat or dog. It would make his being away so much more tolerable.

She collected all the dishes from breakfast and the neglected ones from supper and loaded them into the dishwasher. As the machine worked through its cycle she decided to keep busy like her husband suggested and, certainly in the past few days when she was forced to get up and do something, she came to realize she wasn’t as physically or mentally tired.

While she picked up their things from the floor and tables, she noticed a couple of David’s car magazines. She grabbed them and took them to the garage where he usually kept all his magazines. She opened the door and entered with caution as the events from the night before still resonated in her mind. She walked to the back of the garage; remembering that was where she found David in the middle of the night. Walking around their car she headed for the closet where she knew she’d find a rack with a stash of magazines tucked into it. When she opened the door, there was the magazine rack right in front. She knelt down and pulled the rack out so she could properly put the issues in their place without bending the corners. David was always so meticulous about things like that. As she made a space for the magazines to go, she noticed something that caused her to grin. She knew he occasionally bought porno magazines, but she didn’t realize just how many he had.

I wonder if this was why he was down here. A knot developed in the pit of her stomach as she realized they hadn’t had sex since Conner died. Poor guy. I just wasn’t in the mood. I wonder how often he came