THE SEAT BESIDE ME

Chapter One — The Reunion

Rachel Morgan had spent three weeks deciding she wasn’t going.

Then Saturday evening found her standing in front of her bedroom mirror wearing the blue dress she’d bought specifically for the event she had absolutely no intention of attending.

She stared at herself.

“This is ridiculous.”

Her phone buzzed.

Tasha: If you are not in your car, I am coming to your house.

Rachel smiled.

Rachel: I’m getting dressed.

The reply came immediately.

Tasha: Liar. You’ve been dressed for forty minutes. MOVE.

Rachel laughed.

Twenty-five years.

It had been twenty-five years since she’d graduated from Westbrook High School.

Twenty-five years since life had seemed like a straight road stretching endlessly ahead.

College.

Career.

Marriage.

Children.

Success.

Happiness.

Rachel had achieved some of those things.

Others had apparently taken different exits.

At forty-three, she had a successful event-planning business, a comfortable home, good friends, and a nineteen-year-old son away at college.

She also had a divorce decree tucked inside a filing cabinet and an ex-husband who had remarried eleven months after their separation.

She wasn’t bitter.

At least that’s what she told people.

Rachel grabbed her purse.

“Two hours.”

That was the deal she’d made with herself.

Show up.

Smile.

Pretend to remember people.

Leave.

---

The reunion was being held at the Grandview Hotel.

Rachel knew she’d made a mistake before she reached the ballroom.

People were already hugging too enthusiastically.

“Rachel Morgan!”

She turned.

A woman rushed toward her.

Rachel smiled automatically.

“Oh my goodness!”

She had absolutely no idea who the woman was.

“You haven’t changed!”

Neither had the lie people told at reunions.

“You look amazing too!”

The woman hugged her.

“It’s Cheryl!”

Of course.

Cheryl.

Rachel remembered her now.

They’d shared chemistry.

Or biology.

Possibly neither.

“Cheryl! Wow!”

For the next fifteen minutes, Rachel perfected the art of enthusiastic recognition.

Then Tasha appeared.

“Thank God.”

Tasha hugged her.

“You came.”

“Against my better judgment.”

“You look gorgeous.”

“So do you.”

“Obviously.”

Some things hadn’t changed.

They entered the ballroom together.

Old photographs decorated the walls.

The class song played softly.

A large banner read:

WESTBROOK HIGH — CLASS OF 2001

Rachel stopped at a display table.

There was their senior-year photograph.

She found herself immediately.

Third row.

Big smile.

Hair she’d spent years pretending never happened.

Tasha pointed.

“Look at us.”

“We thought we were grown.”

“We were idiots.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Tasha laughed.

Rachel scanned the faces.

Some she remembered instantly.

Others had disappeared completely from memory.

Then her eyes stopped.

A boy stood near the far edge of the photograph.

Tall.

Thin.

Serious expression.

Daniel Carter.

Rachel hadn’t thought about him in years.

Actually—

That wasn’t entirely true.

There had been moments.

Random ones.

A song.

A school hallway in a dream.

The smell of sharpened pencils.

Daniel had always carried pencils.

Not pens.

Pencils.

Rachel smiled.

“He used to stare at you.”

Tasha was watching her.

“Who?”

“Daniel Carter.”

“He did not.”

“Girl, please.”

“We were friends.”

“He wanted to be more than friends.”

Rachel rolled her eyes.

“He never said anything.”

“He was seventeen.”

“So?”

“So seventeen-year-old boys would rather walk into traffic than admit they like somebody.”

Rachel laughed.

“What happened to him?”

Tasha shrugged.

“He disappeared.”

“What do you mean?”

“After graduation.”

Rachel remembered that.

Daniel had been accepted to Northwestern.

Everyone knew.

Then suddenly he didn’t go.

He wasn’t at the graduation party.

Didn’t attend the summer gatherings.

His family moved.

And Daniel simply vanished from everyone’s life.

Rachel had written him once.

No response.

Then college started.

Life moved.

People became memories.

“Maybe he’s here,” Tasha said.

Rachel looked around.

“After twenty-five years?”

“That’s generally how reunions work.”

Rachel laughed.

They moved toward the seating chart.

Rachel found her name.

Table 12.

Tasha groaned.

“I’m Table 7.”

“You abandoned me already.”

“You’ll survive.”

Rachel walked toward Table 12.

Several people were already seated.

She recognized two.

One she didn’t.

Then she saw the place card beside hers.

Rachel stopped.

DANIEL CARTER

Her heart gave a strange little jump.

“No way.”

She looked around.

The chair was empty.

Rachel sat.

Ten minutes passed.

Then twenty.

Dinner began.

Daniel’s chair remained empty.

Rachel felt oddly disappointed.

Why?

She hadn’t seen the man in twenty-five years.

She didn’t even know him anymore.

The lights dimmed for a slideshow.

Photographs flashed across the screen.

Football games.

Prom.

Graduation.

Rachel laughed at pictures she’d forgotten existed.

Then a photograph appeared.

Rachel and Daniel.

Sitting on the school steps.

She was laughing.

Daniel was looking at her.

Not the camera.

Her.

Tasha had been right.

Rachel stared at the screen.

The photograph disappeared.

“Still laugh the same way.”

Rachel froze.

The voice came from beside her.

She turned.

A man stood behind the empty chair.

Tall.

Dark suit.

A little gray at the temples.

And eyes Rachel recognized immediately.

Daniel Carter smiled.

“Hi, Rachel.”

For a moment, she was seventeen again.

“Daniel?”

His smile widened.

“You remembered.”

She laughed.

“Of course I remembered.”

Daniel pulled out the chair beside her.

“Good.”

He sat.

“Because I’ve spent twenty-five years wondering if you would.”

---

Chapter Two — The Things He Remembered

Daniel Carter had changed.

And somehow hadn’t.

At seventeen, he’d been awkwardly tall, all elbows and uncertainty.

At forty-four, he’d grown into himself.

There was confidence now.

Calmness.

But the smile was exactly the same.

Rachel stared.

“You’re really here.”

“I am.”

“Where have you been?”

Daniel laughed.

“Hello to you too.”

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No.”

They laughed.

Dinner continued around them, largely ignored.

Rachel discovered Daniel lived in Charlotte.

He was an architect.

Divorced.

No children.

He had returned to Westbrook only twice since leaving.

“For funerals,” he said.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

Rachel hesitated.

“Your parents?”

“My mother eight years ago. Dad three years ago.”

“I’m sorry, Daniel.”

He nodded.

“What about you?”

“My father died seven years ago.”

Daniel looked down.

“I know.”

Rachel frowned.

“You know?”

“I heard.”

“From who?”

“People.”

“What people?”

Daniel smiled.

“Westbrook isn’t exactly New York City.”

Fair.

They talked about careers.

College.

Mutual friends.

Then Daniel said:

“You became an event planner.”

Rachel blinked.

“How did you know?”

“You told me.”

“When?”

“Senior year.”

“I didn’t even know I wanted to do that senior year.”

“You did.”

“No.”

Daniel leaned closer.

“Career Day.”

Rachel stared.

“You said everybody kept telling you to become a lawyer because you liked arguing.”

“That sounds accurate.”

“But you said you’d rather create beautiful things people remembered.”

Rachel slowly smiled.

“I said that?”

“You did.”

“I don’t remember.”

“I do.”

Something about the way he said it made her quiet.

Daniel remembered other things.

Her favorite candy.

Peanut M&M’s.

The song she’d played repeatedly during senior year.

The fact that she hated carnations.

“You called them funeral flowers.”

Rachel burst out laughing.

“I still hate them.”

“I figured.”

“How do you remember this stuff?”

Daniel shrugged.

“Some things stick.”

Rachel looked at him.

Or some people.

She didn’t say it.

---

After dinner, the DJ increased the music.

People began dancing.

Rachel and Daniel remained at the table.

Then an old song started.

Rachel gasped.

“No.”

Daniel smiled.

“What?”

“You remember this?”

“Of course.”

It was the song from senior prom.

Rachel hadn’t attended with Daniel.

She’d gone with Marcus Hill.

Marcus had spent most of the evening talking to another girl.

Daniel had attended alone.

At some point Rachel had escaped outside.

Daniel found her sitting near the gym entrance.

He’d stayed with her.

They never danced.

“Would you like to correct a twenty-five-year-old mistake?” Daniel asked.

Rachel looked at him.

“What mistake?”

He stood and held out his hand.

“We never danced.”

Rachel smiled.

Then placed her hand in his.

“One dance.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

They moved onto the dance floor.

It wasn’t romantic.

At least Rachel told herself it wasn’t.

It was nostalgic.

Two old friends remembering who they’d been.

Except Daniel was looking at her in exactly the same way he’d looked at her in that photograph.

Rachel suddenly became aware of his hand holding hers.

She stepped back slightly.

Daniel noticed.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

She smiled.

“Just weird.”

“What is?”

“Being here.”

He nodded.

“I almost didn’t come.”

“Neither did I.”

“Why did you?”

“Tasha threatened me.”

Daniel laughed.

“What about you?”

His smile faded.

“My father.”

Rachel frowned.

“I thought you said he passed.”

“He did.”

Daniel looked toward their table.

“But before he died, he asked me to come.”

“To the reunion?”

“To Westbrook.”

“Why?”

Daniel hesitated.

“Because there was something here he thought I needed to deal with.”

Rachel waited.

Daniel changed the subject.

“Do you still drink your coffee with ridiculous amounts of cream?”

She laughed.

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because tonight is going too well.”

That answer stayed with her.

---

At eleven, Rachel prepared to leave.

Daniel walked her to the lobby.

“I’m glad you came,” he said.

“So am I.”

“Can I call you?”

Rachel smiled.

“You haven’t called me in twenty-five years.”

Daniel’s expression changed.

“I tried.”

Rachel stopped.

“What?”

“After graduation.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did.”

“Daniel, I wrote you.”

His brow furrowed.

“You wrote me?”

“Twice.”

“I never got anything.”

Rachel stared.

“I called your house too.”

“My number was disconnected.”

“Eventually.”

“What does that mean?”

Daniel looked confused.

“I called before we moved.”

Rachel shook her head.

“My dad said—”

She stopped.

Daniel’s face changed.

“What did your dad say?”

Rachel suddenly remembered.

Her father standing in the kitchen.

Rachel asking whether Daniel had called.

Her father answering:

That boy has moved on, Rachel. You should too.

She had believed him.

She looked at Daniel.

“He said you never called.”

Daniel went very still.

“I called three times.”

Rachel’s stomach tightened.

“Daniel…”

“And the third time…”

He stopped.

“What?”

Daniel looked away.

“The third time your father answered.”

Rachel couldn’t breathe.

“What did he say?”

Daniel looked back at her.

“He told me not to call you again.”

---

Chapter Three — What Her Father Knew

Rachel barely heard the music from the ballroom.

“My father told you not to call me?”

Daniel nodded.

“Why?”

“I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?”

Daniel stared at her.

“Rachel, maybe we shouldn’t do this tonight.”

“No.”

She folded her arms.

“You’ve already opened the door. Walk through it.”

Daniel sighed.

“Your father didn’t like me.”

“That’s ridiculous. Dad liked everybody.”

“Not me.”

“You came to my house all the time.”

“I know.”

“He fed you.”

“I know.”

“You helped him fix the porch.”

“I remember.”

“Then why would he tell you not to call?”

Daniel looked uncomfortable.

“Because of my father.”

Rachel frowned.

“What did your father have to do with me?”

Daniel didn’t answer immediately.

“Everything.”

A cold feeling settled in her stomach.

“Explain.”

Daniel looked toward the hotel entrance.

“Can we sit?”

They found a quiet corner in the lobby.

Daniel leaned forward.

“My father worked for Morgan Construction.”

Rachel stared.

“That’s impossible.”

Morgan Construction had belonged to her father.

He’d started the company before Rachel was born.

“My dad employed hundreds of people.”

“I know.”

“What did your father do?”

“Accounting.”

Rachel searched her memory.

Carter.

Carter.

Nothing.

“He was there for eleven years.”

“Okay.”

“Until your father fired him.”

Rachel frowned.

“Why?”

“My father discovered something.”

“What?”

“Money was disappearing.”

Rachel immediately shook her head.

“No.”

“Rachel—”

“My father didn’t steal.”

“I didn’t say he did.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“My father found irregularities.”

“From who?”

“He never told me everything.”

Rachel stood.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to come to this reunion.”

Daniel stood too.

“I’m sorry.”

“My father has been dead seven years.”

“I know.”

“He cannot defend himself.”

“I’m not accusing him.”

“It sounds like you are.”

Daniel reached into his jacket.

“I wasn’t planning to give you this tonight.”

Rachel stared at the envelope in his hand.

“What is that?”

“Something my father left me.”

Rachel didn’t take it.

Daniel continued.

“He gave it to me before he died.”

“What does it have to do with me?”

“Your name is on it.”

Rachel’s heart began pounding.

She took the envelope.

Her name was written across the front.

RACHEL MORGAN

The handwriting wasn’t Daniel’s.

“That’s your father’s writing?”

“Yes.”

Rachel turned it over.

Sealed.

“What’s inside?”

“I don’t know.”

“You never opened it?”

“It wasn’t addressed to me.”

Rachel looked at him.

“Why wait three years?”

Daniel’s eyes softened.

“Because I didn’t know if I had the right to walk back into your life carrying something that might change the way you remember your father.”

Rachel stared at the envelope.

“Then why now?”

“My father left instructions.”

“What instructions?”

“Give it to Rachel when she’s ready.”

Rachel laughed nervously.

“Ready for what?”

“He didn’t say.”

The ballroom doors opened.

People spilled into the lobby.

Rachel suddenly wanted air.

She walked outside.

Daniel followed.

“Rachel.”

She turned.

“Why did you disappear?”

Daniel stopped.

“What?”

“After graduation. Why did you really leave?”

“My family moved.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Daniel looked down.

“My father lost his job. We lost the house.”

Rachel’s anger disappeared.

“What?”

“We couldn’t afford to stay.”

“I didn’t know.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried.”

Rachel closed her eyes.

Her father had intercepted the calls.

“Daniel…”

“There was more.”

She looked at him.

“What?”

“The night before we left, your father came to our house.”

Rachel stared.

“Why?”

“I heard them arguing.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know everything.”

“Stop saying that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“What did you hear?”

Daniel hesitated.

“My father said he had proof.”

“Proof of what?”

“Whatever was happening at Morgan Construction.”

Rachel’s heartbeat accelerated.

“And my father?”

Daniel swallowed.

“He said something I’ll never forget.”

“What?”

Daniel looked directly at her.

“He told my father, ‘You have no idea what you’re about to destroy.’”

Rachel gripped the envelope.

“Then what happened?”

“The next morning, Dad told us we were leaving Westbrook.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“And you never came back.”

“No.”

Rachel looked down at the envelope.

Something occurred to her.

“Daniel.”

“Yeah?”

“You said your father gave you this three years ago.”

“Yes.”

“My father died seven years ago.”

“I know.”

“So why would your father leave me something about a man who’d already been dead four years?”

Daniel went quiet.

Rachel stared at him.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Daniel looked toward the parking lot.

Then back at her.

“My father went to your father’s funeral.”

Rachel frowned.

“I don’t remember seeing him.”

“He didn’t go inside.”

“Why?”

“He wanted to.”

Daniel paused.

“But someone stopped him.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

Rachel’s frustration rose.

“But after that day, Dad started going through old files.”

“What files?”

“Documents he’d kept from Morgan Construction.”

Rachel looked at the envelope.

“Is that what’s in here?”

“Maybe.”

She started opening it.

Daniel touched her hand.

“Rachel.”

“What?”

“Whatever is inside that envelope…”

He stopped.

“…your father was still the man who raised you.”

Rachel stared at him.

“Why would you need to tell me that?”

Daniel removed his hand.

Rachel tore open the envelope.

Inside was a letter.

And an old photograph.

The photograph fell onto her lap.

Rachel picked it up.

Four men stood outside Morgan Construction.

Her father was one.

Daniel’s father another.

She didn’t recognize the third.

But the fourth man—

Rachel stopped breathing.

She knew him.

Everyone in Westbrook knew him.

Retired Judge Samuel Whitaker.

Her father’s closest friend.

Rachel unfolded the letter.

The first sentence was addressed directly to her.

Rachel, if Daniel has given you this, then both your father and I are probably gone.

Her hands trembled.

She continued.

There is something about the night your father came to my house that Daniel never knew.

Rachel looked at Daniel.

He frowned.

“What?”

She returned to the letter.

The next sentence made her sit completely still.

Your father did not come to threaten me.

Rachel swallowed.

Then read the rest of the paragraph.

He came to warn me.

And beneath it:

Someone inside Morgan Construction was stealing money.

Your father knew who it was.

And so did I.