Free In Too Deep by Ronica Black Page B

was sit and stare. Time passed; she didn’t know how much. The doorbell rang but she didn’t move. It rang again after a few minutes and she finally rose to answer it.
    The sun pierced her eyes.
    Patricia Henderson stood on the front step. Her smile of greeting faded as quickly as it had formed. “You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
    Erin laughed a little at the statement, wishing a ghost was all that she had seen. “I’m fine. Let’s get the hell out of here.” She picked up her bag and walked outside.
    Patricia eyed her carefully, closing the door behind them. “Okay,” she said as they headed off to her Blazer.
    They rode in silence with Patricia looking over every once in a while, concern evident in the wrinkle of her brow. “Listen, Mac. If there’s anything you ever need to talk about, I’m here for you,” she said eventually.
    “He got her pregnant.” Erin kept her gaze fixed on the road ahead.
    “What? Who?” Patricia was completely confused by the revelation, judging by her strained voice.
    “Mark.”
    Patricia jerked her head around and looked at her. “He got someone pregnant?”
    “Yes. His mistress in Austin,” Erin said flatly.
    Patricia refocused on the road ahead. “How did you find out?”
    “His credit card statement.” This time Erin managed to pry her eyes away from the road to look directly at Patricia. “Usually, he spends money on fancy restaurants and flowers and expensive gifts for her. But this time he spent close to two thousand dollars on baby furniture and accessories.”
    “You’re upset,” Patricia prompted gently.
    “I’m not sure what I am.” Erin turned toward the road once more, not wanting to think, just wanting to exist. Sometimes it was easier to just zone out and concentrate on other things. Little things, even. She had briefly studied Buddhism, and it had encouraged her to focus on the tiniest of details and that was what she needed to do now.
    Looking out the window, she took in her surroundings. They were in an upper-class neighborhood in the center of the city. The homes were older but very well kept, with most of the homeowners coming from old money. Erin focused on the properties, their well-manicured lawns, and tried to imagine the people that lived in each house. Who were they? How long had they lived there? What did they enjoy doing from day to day? Perhaps it was an older couple. Retired. Yes, they were still in love and they led a peaceful, loving life together in their well-to-do home.
    Patricia pulled up in front of one of the smaller places and put the truck in park, summoning Erin back from the deep recesses of her mind. Climbing out of the vehicle, she examined the house before her. It was painted off-white, contrasting nicely with the red-tiled roof. The yard was lush, with green grass and palm trees. A white Honda Accord sat in the driveway. It looked fairly new and she read the tags, knowing that if she entered them into the police database, Katherine Chandler’s name would appear.
    The sun was warm and mesmerizing and Erin allowed it to massage her bare arms. Turning back to the Blazer, she retrieved her bag and followed Patricia inside, disappointed in having to leave the comforting heat.
    The home they stepped into was cool, and she noticed right away that it was furnished tastefully and expensively, with white carpet covering the floors. She immediately became dirt conscious at the sight of the pale room and slipped off her sneakers.
    “You don’t have to do that here,” Patricia said.
    Erin held up her hand in protest. “Yes, I do. If I get that carpet dirty, I’ll go insane.”.
    Patricia shrugged and pulled off her boots.
    “Your socks are very white.” Erin said, looking appreciatively at her companion’s feet. “Some people’s aren’t.”
    Patricia eyed her carefully. “Huh?”
    “Sorry, I have this thing about white socks.” Erin knew she must sound ridiculous, and she clasped her forehead in disgust.