Chapter 1

It was the mole, just above the right ankle, that gave her away.

Becca had been on the loud and stuffy BART train for half an hour. Her Tuesday assignment was at a rehab center in Pleasanton California and the only practical way to get to and from there was a fifty-minute ride on the San Francisco Bay subway train. The Pleasanton Train travels through the eastern side of the Bay before entering the very loud and dark tunnel that crosses to San Francisco.

It was at that moment as Becca flinched from the screeching sound of the train in the tunnel that she noticed the girl sitting across from her and the mole above her ankle. It took Becca’s brain a few moments to remember when she had seen a mole just like that. Was it a former patient? No, the memory was older than that. She was painting the girl’s toenails...

Becca’s eyes got wide, “Zoe?”

But her question was swallowed up by the train noise. As the car sped through the trans-bay tunnel, it swayed and jolted, keeping Becca in her seat for the moment. She looked closer at the girl. She appeared to have red hair and fair skin like her former friend, but the rest of her features were hidden behind the slumped posture, wet hair and tattered coat.

“Embarcadero Station ... Embarcadero Station, this is the Daly City Train” the overhead speakers squawked.

The loud screeching suddenly died down as the train exited the tunnel and approached the first station within San Francisco itself. Becca watched, but the girl made no move to get off the train. The doors opened with a sigh, so Becca took that moment to do what regular BART riders try to avoid, sitting next to someone. She grabbed her tan backpack and moved to the seat next to the girl.

“Zoe ... Zoe, is that you?”

The slumped girl turned her head and looked with unfocused eyes. Becca stared at the girl’s face, and found it very familiar.

“Zee, it’s me Becca! Becca ... Stewart.”

The girl’s head came up a litter further. It was then that Becca saw the girl was shivering and that she was soaked to the skin from the winter rain that was falling. She also saw the duffle that was tucked under her arms to keep the snatchers from stealing it.

“Are you ok? Where are you going?”

“Away ... get away...” the speech was slurred and slow. Then there was a string of sounds that made no sense until Becca heard the word “Bus...” But then the sodden girl leaned against her and faded out.

Bobby’s phone rang as he was standing in the boarding line with all the rest of the Group A passengers. He had learned the value of picking an airline and sticking with them every chance he needed to fly so that he could build up the Reward Miles. The airlines often made a big deal out of the perks of being a member of the reward’s program, but everyone that flew this airline knew that the best perk was Group A List Specials. You got to be in the first fifteen people to pick a seat!

His phone showed Becca was calling at the worst possible time. It was hard to juggle the carry-on bag, backpack and talk on the phone.

“Hey, I am about to board...”

“Ok ... but I need to tell you something. We have ... a houseguest.”

“What? Who?” Becca’s parents had moved 3 years before to Florida. Her dad wanted to play golf and her mother wanted people to talk to while he played golf. The upside of that was they rarely visited and they never stayed at their small apartment. Robert’s Dad had died in his back yard from a heart attack when Bobby was in high school and his mother had remarried and moved to Idaho.

“You ... don’t know her. I am not sure what is happening, but...”

“Becca, are you ok?” This did not sound like the confident physical therapist he was married to.

“I am fine, I just don’t know about ... my friend. I did not want you surprised when you walked in the door. She is in the guest room asleep so be quiet when you come in ... and I will explain tonight.”

“OK ... hey, they just called my group ... but...”

“Let me explain when you get here. Love you.” and the call ended.

Bobby sat at the kitchen table watching his wife’s face. He watched as her facial expressions changed almost with each breath, from joy to fear, to adult concern to a child-like smile at a long-forgotten memory.

“We were best friends, you know, the kind you make in fifth grade that sticks with you? We did everything together. We sat next to each other in class, passed notes, swapped homework, ate lunch together, everything. We went backpacking, to the beach, down to LA with Mom, ... we did everything together.”

Bobby looked down into his coffee cup, “Why have I never met her or even heard about her before now?”

Becca stared out the window, “She moved away at the beginning of our junior year of high school. I tried to get together with her after that. My Mom told me Zoe had been sick and couldn’t come and visit. I don’t even remember where they moved, just that I could not see her anymore. I got busy with the drama club and preparing for college. I forgot her...?” A horrified look crossed Becca’s face, “Did she have cancer or something and I just abandoned her?”

Bobby sighed, “Sixteen-year-olds are selfish by nature. It also sounds like they were keeping it from you or maybe hiding it even from your mom too. Do you think she is still sick? Is that why she collapsed on the train?”

Becca shook her head, “I’m not sure about anything. I helped her off of the train at our stop and got her on the escalator. She was barely able to walk. I grabbed one of the shopping carts from the sidewalk and threw my bag and hers in it and used the handles like a walker to get her home. But it took a while and it was still raining. We were both soaked. I pulled off her wet clothes and put her in a set of my sweats. Bobby, she ... she has some bruises ... around her arms and back, and big red welts ... like from an allergic reaction.”

“Where did she get on the train?”

“I have no idea; I was not paying attention. I am sure it was not at Pleasanton, so somewhere after Castro Valley station. Oakland ... maybe?”

“Does she have any family? Do you know where they live?”

“I don’t have a clue. I know she was an only child, and I remember her mother ... but I have no memory of her dad. We spent all of our time at my house in Los Altos, or at the parks nearby.”

Bobby did not have to leave his chair at the table to place his coffee cup on the kitchen counter. Like most older houses in the city, it was not a big place and the outdated floorplan did not use the space very efficiently. In the two years they had been married, the worst decision they had made was giving in to their romantic notion of living in San Francisco. Instead of an adventure filled with fun, live music and the arts, it turned out to be dirty, scary and very expensive. On the plus side Bobby had access to three major airports and easy access to work. But that did not balance the fact that he hated the house, he hated the neighborhood, hated the high rent and hated that he could not even renovate to make the house more livable.

Money had become a major stress point of the marriage. It was not that either Bobby or Becca were unemployed, they were just overwhelmed with bills, student loans, stupid credit card purchases, and poor money habits in general. Bobby traveled so much it was impossible for him to pick up any additional work. Becca had talked about picking up a shift or two a week at a nursing facility but most were weekend shifts, the few times Bobby was in town.

“Bee, I am leaving for India and Indonesia Sunday morning. I am gone for three weeks. I can’t help you with her past when I leave on Sunday. Will you be ok?”

Becca looked at her husband, “Hey, don’t worry. Zoe is six inches shorter than I am. I will be fine. Plus, I have till my Tuesday shift to determine if I can leave her here alone.”

Three weeks later, Bobby was thinking about his wife and home.

When Bobby told the cute brunette he was an industrial hygienist, she said that “ ... it sounded like you flossed the teeth of machines.” He laughed at the joke and asked her to lunch. Becca loved to tell that story of how she and Bobby got together.

In truth, the profession is focused on the health and wellbeing of workers. They prevent or investigate accidents or hazards on job sits and help employees remain healthy. Some of the job was just to keep the lawyers at bay, while other parts really did make the workers safer. Either way he had spent the last twenty-two days out of the country and away from his wife.

But when he closed his eyes, he could not help but think of some of the things he had uncovered. It had started with missing safety equipment in a warehouse in Bangalore India. In itself, that would not be a surprise, but his report was forwarded to others and had somehow started a major firestorm within the company that had spread to the local government. The company’s pictures, copies of receipts and accident reports that did not match what his pictures showed. His investigation had been folded into some larger investigation and scandal. His boss had called him at two in the morning to tell him to get on an earlier flight to Indonesia, just go to the airport as soon as possible and change his ticket at the counter. If he could not get a flight within an hour to Indonesia, he was told to go ... anywhere that was out of the country. He had managed a flight to Ho Chi Minh City (formally call Saigon) and then had to wait a day for a flight to his next appointment.

All of this pointing to some larger scandal that he had fallen into. But that was not his concern now. He had just spent twenty hours in an airplane seat that was not designed for his six-foot, two-inch frame. He was tired, lonely, and ready to be home.

He had flown into San Francisco International Airport just about the time Becca was getting off work. She worked two days a week in Pleasanton while the other two ten-hour shifts were at the other rehab clinic in Fremont. He figured he would arrive home about thirty minutes before her. It would give him time to get cleaned up from spending so many hours on an airplane. After trudging through the huge airport, a shuttle train and the BART train, the short three-block walk from the BART station to the house was easy, pulling his suitcase through the light winter drizzle. He climbed the stairs to his front door and was digging in the bottom of his backpack for the door key when it suddenly opened.

“Oh! Hi Robert!”

It took Bobby a moment to gather himself. He knew that Zoe was still living at the house, using the second bedroom and bath, but the last time he had seen her, he just glimpsed her from the spare bedroom door, she was asleep, her face swollen, no makeup, and hair that had not been washed in days. The woman standing in the doorway could not have been more different. Her red hair was shiny and pulled back in a neat ponytail. Her face was clear and her blue eyes bright and echoing the smile on her face. She wore a bulky raincoat against the chilly wet weather, black jeans and hiking boots. She had a gray backpack draped over one shoulder, an umbrella, and an obvious set of housekeys in her hand.

“Hi ... Zoe? It’s good to see you.”

“I wanted to be gone before you came home but ... hey, it’s good to see you too. Tell Becca I will be back Sunday.” With that she put her head down, the umbrella came open and she glided down the steep front stairs of the bungalow. Bobby watched as she turned back the way he had come, towards the subway station, and disappeared around the corner.

Bobby shook his head to clear his surprise and confusion but realized he was still standing in the rain. He turned and stepped into the open door, pulling his case with him. He set his backpack down, stepped out of his wet shoes and shrugged out of his light rain jacket and hung it on the hook behind the door to dry. He stepped out of the tiny foyer but immediately froze in place.

Both Bobby and Becca had been athletes in high school and college. Bobby had wrestled and later competed in Judo at the club level in college. Becca was a soccer and softball player in high school and later played Division 2 softball in college. Neither would have considered themselves very ... artistic. They had never spent much time with decorating or even really organizing the tiny house. With money as tight as it was, decorating was a long way down on the priority list.

The sight that caused him to stand and stare was the interior of the house looked quite different than when he had left. Furniture that before had been arranged for comfort while watching the television was now in a completely different configuration. Moving the big screen to the other wall allowed the main window to bring more light into the room. The room looked inviting and ... clean! Everything was clean! There was no dust on the bookcase and the worn hardwood floors looked like they had been polished.

Bobby finally started moving further into the house and saw the kitchen and small dining area was also neat, clean and ... decorated? There was now a painting on one wall of the dining room and a very fashionable distressed window frame hanging on the other. Dried flowers sat in an old glass pitcher on the kitchen counter. The house that he had despised for almost two years had been transformed into something that looked like it could be on a magazine cover.

The transformation continued into the rest of the house. In the bedroom the top of his dresser was neat and organized, the bed was made and not a single piece of laundry could be seen. The master bath was spotless and the sink countertop uncluttered. He stood in awe looking at the inside of his closet. Everything was put away, hanging, sorted, and clean.

He was still staring into the closet when Becca said, “You should see mine. The shoes are organized by how high the heels are.”

Bobby turned to see his wife, wearing a raincoat over her scrubs, standing in the bathroom doorway, smiling. In two strides he closed the distance between them and picked her up to bring her lips to his. The passionate kiss lasted for quite a while.

Bobby finally put Becca down, “I want to wash off the airplane stink before we move this to the bed.”

Becca smirked, “Me too. I will jump in after you.”

For the hundredth time, Bobby regretted the size of the tiny shower. It would have been great for Becca to join him, but it was completely impractical. As they switched places, a naked and wet Bobby passed an equally naked but dry Becca, but not without some touching, stroking and groping on both sides.

Bobby used a towel to dry off while staring at his wife through the glass shower door. As she washed her auburn hair, her raised arms gave him an unobstructed view of her beautiful neck, shoulders and chest. He had always loved her arms, strong from sports, then from helping her patients move and stretch plus a dedicated workout routine. The water and shampoo bubbles cascaded down her breasts, the perfect B-cup handful, and flowed down across her taut belly to her amazing hips and ass. She was strong, sleek, sexy and she was his wife! When she finished with her shower, Bobby was waiting to wrap her in another towel. The drying process was quite extensive with more touching and rubbing than was strictly necessary.