Page 14 of The Me I Left Behind

Maggie stood there for a moment, the phone still to her ear.

Tell them hello? Not, I love you. I miss you. I’ll see you soon. Happy New Year?

Just hello?

Carol stepped up, took the phone out of her hand, and put her arms around her.

“He’s an ass, Mom. Let it go.”

If only.

With Chloefinally tucked into bed, Maggie softly closed her bedroom door—leaving it open a crack so the light would peek through, like she always wanted—and stepped out into the upstairs hallway. Carol’s door was closed, as was Jason’s, and if they were still awake, at least they were quiet. They’d both showered early, after dinner, and had headed to their rooms not long after.

They’d be there for the night, she was certain. Jason sometimes played video games until he fell asleep. Carol was probably figuring out her wardrobe for tomorrow and texting with friends. They’d sleep soon enough, if they weren’t already.

Heading downstairs, Maggie knew she’d rest very little tonight.

She had other things to deal with.

Max’s office was off limits to her and the children. Always had been. When he was home, it stayed locked during the day, but open at night so he could go in and out, working or not. When he was out of town, he kept it locked up tighter than a drum.

She’d never questioned it, nor did the kids. By now, it seemed normal.

But was it really? What did Max have in there that he did not want anyone to see or know about? While she could guess, she knew she was relatively oblivious.

Clueless. Max could be involved in anything, really.

She knew very little about his business, his clients, and all that entailed.

The only time he allowed her into his office for any length of time was when she was planning his trip itineraries, which Max trusted her to do because of her years spent as a flight attendant. She knew the airports and kept up with the flight schedules and concourse changes, so she could get him to his destination and home again as efficiently as possible. Of course, he was always in the room with her, looking over her shoulder while she worked on his laptop.

Not this time.

Maggie stood staring at the walnut-stained door to the office. The room was situated just off the kitchen/family room area, down a short hallway. Her gaze dropped to the handle, and she jiggled it—locked, of course, as expected. Max had replaced the bedroom-door lock a few years back and had installed a coded keypad, plus a key lock.

She had to break through both—and no telling what she would come into contact with once she was inside.

Turning, she moved through the kitchen-family room area and headed to the garage, where she gathered up various tools from Max’s tool bench.

While she figured the crowbar might make quick work of breaking in, she also assumed it would be loud and maybe cumbersome. She didn’t want the door falling down on her, and she didn’t want to disturb the kids while sleeping, either. And while bashing in the door with a crowbar might have felt remarkably satisfying, she couldn’t risk it. So, she started with athin screwdriver and attempted to pick the key lock, to see if she could get that one open first.

Nope.

What the hell kind of lock had he installed? The kids had locked themselves into their bedrooms, or the upstairs bathroom, many times, and the screwdriver trick always worked. What gives with this fucking lock?

Tossing the screwdriver aside, she stood back and studied the door.

Maybe she could remove the door handle altogether. She’d watched a few You Tube videos earlier in the day showing how. Running her fingers over the lock and the base, she felt for a set screw, or other screws, there. Finding none, she stood back and stared at the thing again.

Even if she could get the key lock open, she had to know the keypad code.

She could guess but was unlikely to guess correctly.

She supposed she could call a locksmith tomorrow to come when the kids were at school. She hated to involve anyone else in this, though. Or perhaps she could go for the hinges and try to remove the door that way. Otherwise, she was going to take a freaking drill and the crowbar to the lock—noise and caution be damned.

Try the hinges first.

After another quick tutorial video, she realized she’d made the right choice. The guy in the clip talked through step-by-step instructions, and in less than fifteen minutes, she had scooted the unhinged door open enough to slide through and was inside Max’s office.

---