Beyond The Butterscotch Sun

PROLOGUE

JULY 19, 1955

The sun reminded Kristina of a huge disc of butterscotch candy. There it was above the meadows and fields, shining all sweet and yellow. It was just beckoning them to frolic beneath it. There were eight excited, thirteen year old girls, eagerly searching for adventure on that hot, sticky, summer day. Kristina, of course, was one of them. Mischievous and impulsive she was, always ready for something new and challenging. When Rachel suggested that they all meander over to the deserted house that stood a quarter of a mile down the road, everyone agreed. Reluctantly so, but they agreed just the same. Only it was Meghan who severely cautioned the girls against venturing on private property. They all stared at Meghan, all wide eyed with anticipated fear, but just too curious to take heed to her warnings.

Besides, there were rumors about the old, deserted Monroe house. The girls were in the mood to find out if any of them were true.

'I- I think I saw someone in the window.'

'Oh for Petes sake, Kristina,' Rachel replied impatiently, 'You're seeing things.'

'NO! I really did.' Kristina argued ademately. 'It was over there'. She pointed in the direction of the cracked, dirt covered window.

'That does it.' Tara whined hysterically. 'I'm out of here!'

Tara's announcement created a chain reaction. Like little dominos, one by one, each girl scattered in various directions. Rachel remained there with Kristina, in the middle of the hot, muggy meadow.

Forty years later:

Slowly, Kira fluttered her eyes, focusing them squarely on the pompous man at her side.

She had definitely tried to develop some kind of rapport with him, even if it was for Vincent and Maria's sake. But she wasn't about to tell him about her mother's key, or her mother's request that Kira settle her past.

'If you're a little confused over my reasons to relocate here, it's because I haven't given you a reasonable explanation, nor, Mr. Salvatore, do I intend to do so. Frankly, it's none of your business!'

He stared at her for several moments, his face just inches from hers.

'Suit yourself,' he finely replied.

'Joseph!' Vincent exclaimed in frustration, turning his attention towards Kira.

'Please forgive my son's behavior. He's usually quite charming.'

'You do not need to apologize for your son's actions, Vincent. He has certainly managed to hide his charming side from me.'

Joseph suddenly rose from the sofa and strode over to the window. He gazed outside for several moments before turning to face Kira again. A small, sarcastic smirk played at the corners of his mouth. 'Truce, Miss Noelle. I do apologize for my abrasiveness. Despite what my father likes to believe, charm never was one of my better attributes, shall we try starting all over again?'

'We can try starting over,' she managed to whisper softly.

He nodded his head slowly, his handsome, perfectly chiseled Roman features, remaining serious and direct. Then, he strode back over to the sofa again.

'So,' he replied, clearing his throat, ' Where did you move to?'

She moistened her lips before speaking again. It was a simple gesture, and Kira had no idea the impact it had upon Joseph.

'I moved into a house that was completely remodeled. Michael told me it was empty for many years until his father recently died and his mother gave the house to him.'

'Are you talking about Michael Hunter?' Vincent asked again.

Kira looked surprised. 'Yes, do you know him?'

Vincent nodded his head slowly in reply. The house belonged to his mother's mother, and her name was Clara Monroe.'

'Clara Monroe?' Kira's face reflected astonishment, mixed with confusion. 'You mean the same Monroe that-that you just told me about?'

Vincent appeared as though he had just seen a ghost. Kira's breath quickened, instantly confirming that she never should have come. Joseph spontaneously touched her arm, and Kira turned to look at him.

'Stop playing games with us, Miss. Noelle.' He evenly replied, 'You know damn well whose house it was.'

*******

Leave me alone, or I'll call the police!' she cried.

Joseph reached his arms outward, pinning Kira against the car in one swift movement....

'I am the police, Miss Noelle, if I find out that you've been witholding any information relative to the Monroe case, I will not hesitate to arrest you....'