Every Little Thing About You
Page 21
349
w* -3*
"How is it?" Tess look anxiously across the table at her
mate.
"Very good," Griffin told her after he swallowed.
"Were you worried?"
Tess nodded a hesitant yes.
"Why?"
"Oh, well, I'm still getting used to a different stove, and
this is a new recipe. I wanted everything to be just right."
Griffin sat back a little. "I was crazy not to marry you
the first time I laid eyes on you."
Tess smiled. "Well, I think so, but sometimes it takes
you a little longer."
Griffin reached over and took her hand. "I love you,
Tess."
The bride sighed. "It's funny, but I can't hear that too
much."
"I'll have to remember that," Griffin responded.
350
They continued to eat, but as Tess watched her husband,
she could tell something was on his mind.
"Did anything happen today, Griff?"
Griffin looked at her. "Slater told me that he and Libby
had it out while we were away."
Tess put her fork aside. "Why did he wait almost a
week to tell you?"
"I don't know. Maybe he was still trying to gauge
whether he should."
"Can you tell me what happened?"
"He didn't go into great detail, but he wanted to know
if I had asked her to come and fill in while I was gone. She
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evidently arrived all ready for work, and he told her she
couldn't stay."
"And she was unhappy about that," Tess stated.
"I think you were right, Tess. She is more attached to
the job than I thought. I don't know how I feel about that."
"Do you think it would help to talk with her?"
351
"I would say yes, but I don't want her to feel that Slater
snuck around her and reported. He said it ended well; she
even came and apologized. I guess I'm hoping she'll mention
it to me."
"And if she doesn't?"
"I don't know," he said honestly.
"Will you continue to ask her to work?"
Griffin stared at his wife. That really was the sticking
point in all of this. When he needed help, his sister came to
mind so easily. But Slater was so against it, and Griffin had
such a high regard for his new deputy...
"I don't know," he said one more time and went back
to his food. Both husband and wife were thoughtful for the
next several minutes.
5'
"This fabric is nice," Mrs. Tobler told Liberty the second
week of February. "I think this color would be good on you
too."
352
"I've never had a purple dress." Liberty forced hersejf
to be honest, even amid the generosity. "I guess I had blue
or green in mind."
"Well, I've got those too. Just give me a minute!"
Mrs. Tobler was in the mood to sew. Liberty had never
known her to be in any other mood, but this was the plan
in her mind when she stopped by the day before and
vowed to start with Liberty, move to Laura, and then make
a dress for Kate, and even one for the baby if it was a girl.
The ladies were all naturally pleased, and because Liberty
Every Little Thing About You 201
felt at loose ends lately, she was glad that Mrs. Tobler
wanted to start the next day.
"How's this blue?"
"Oh, this is beautiful."
"I like it too, but let's not be too hasty!"
Liberty smiled. Mrs. Tobler was always the same.
"What is that noise?" she exclaimed in irritation. "I just
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keep hearing it!"
Liberty thought she heard something too, but her host
had gone back to excavating in the closet and grumbling again, so she wasn't sure.
Bolts of fabric and an hour later, they agreed on one. It
was a deep green piece with a tiny yellow flower all over
it. The yellow flower seemed to make Liberty's eyes come
alive. Once Mrs. Tobler saw it draped over her, she would
not look at anything else. In just a matter of minutes, Liberty
was being fitted with a pattern.
w" ^* -S"
"I think there's been a murder," Keaton Saint said
almost as soon as he walked in the door.
"Why do you think that, Mr. Saint?" Griffin asked. He
and Slater had come to full attention.
"Because my neighbor, Mrs. Mills, is missing, and I've
been hearing strange noises/'
"What kind of noises?"
"Digging."
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Griffin took a moment to compute this.
"Her nephew was visiting, wasn't he?"
"He's still there."
"We'll check it out for you, all right?"
The tall man solemnly thanked him, turned, and went
on his way.
"How reliable is he?" Slater asked as soon as the door
closed.
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"Very. He's lived here for years. He's retired now, but
he used to run the library and teach part-time."
"Where does he live?"
"Two doors down from Mrs. Tobler. The house he's
talking about would be next to hers as well."
"A small, two-story white house?"
"That's the one."
The men had exchanged all of this as they moved to
their horses. They rode without haste toward the Mills
place, both hoping Mr. Saint was wrong but knowing that
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such an announcement could not be ignored. Griffin led
the way up to the front door, and it took several knocks for
someone to answer.
"Yes?" an impeccably dressed man answered as he
stood looking out at them. He had an eastern air about him,
and his voice was clipped and precise.
"I'm Sheriff Drake," Griffin said congenially. "Could I
please talk to Mrs. Mills?"
"My aunt is out of town right now," the man said.
"I see. And you would be?"
"Her nephew, Davis Mills."
"Well, Mr. Mills, when do you expect her back?"
"She didn't say," he said very swiftly and then seemed
to reconsider. "Actually, I just remembered a letter she sent.
Maybe she mentions her return date. I'll check."
Griffin and Slater exchanged a glance, both men
wishing Griffin hadn't given him such an easy way out and
also wishing that Davis had left the door open.
"Not a word, I'm afraid," the nephew told them the
moment he reopened the portal.
356
"Where has she gone?" Slater asked.
"Dallas," he said very smoothly.
"And you have no idea when she plans to return?"
"I'm afraid not." His smile was almost angelic.
"Well, please do us a favor, Mr. Mills, and ask her to
come by the office when she returns," Griffin said. "I'd like
to speak with her."
Every Little Thing About You 203
"I'll do that."
The door was shut again, and the men had no choice
but to move away, but neither one was buying the story.
Plans bounced around in both men's minds, and they
waited only until they were back at the office to discuss
them.
"since mr. sai
nt came to us," Slater began, "I wonder
if he would be open to our using his home for surveillance/'
"I was thinking the same thing. I would guess that he
wouldn't care to be disturbed, but the very fact that he
came to the office might indicate some willingness."
357
"How long do we want to wait?"
Griffin's look was grim. "If Mrs. Mills is dead, then
there's no hurry to help her, but if Davis is planning to
escape or do something with the body, then we need to
keep tabs on him."
The door opened suddenly, and both men were surprised
to see Mr. Saint enter.
"Did you speak to Mrs. Mills?" he wasted no time in
asking; he wasn't nearly so composed as earlier. "Did you
see her?"
"I'm afraid not, Mr. Saint. Her nephew says she's out of
town."
The man dropped into a chair.
"She does like to travel, but she always tells me when
she goes. This nephew has visited before, and she did go
away the last time he was here, but not for this long. She
seems very tense when he comes, and his manner is so stiff
and formal. I suppose it's terrible to accuse him of anything,
but something is not right in that house. I just know it."
"When was the last day you saw her?"
358
"Thursday. She was in her front yard and waved to me
as I came down the street."
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"This is Tuesday/' Griffin murmured out loud/ taking a
minute to gather his thoughts. "I think I need to know
more, Mr. Saint. Tell me everything you've heard and seen
in the last five days."
Mr. Saint recounted things as best he could. There were
times when he heard short bouts of the digging noise
during the day, but it was especially loud and continuous
at night. He talked to the men for the better part of an hour,
and when he was done, Griffin knew what he wanted to
do. Mr. Saint was very cooperative, and Griffin sent Slater
home before lunch to get some rest. They would start their
work right after sundown.
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#
"All right, Libby I'm going to sew for a while. You
come back in the morning for a fitting."
"Okay. Thank you, Mrs. Tobler." /
The woman didn't even answer. She was already bent
over her machine. Liberty let herself out the back door. She
had walked instead of ridden and was all set to head for
home when she heard the sound. It was coming from Mrs.
Mills' and sounded like digging. Liberty had been wandering
in and out of these homes since she was a child. For
this reason she approached the back porch, opened the
door, and called inside.
"Mrs. Mills? Are you here?"
Liberty heard nothing, which only caused her to move
more fully inside.
"Mrs. Mills, it's Libby. I was just next door at Mrs.
Tobler's and thought I would stop to say hi." Liberty didn't
add that she wanted to know if she was all right. Some of
the older ladies in town took offense to that idea.
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"Mrs. Mills?" she tried again, this time moving through
the kitchen toward the living room. What she saw caused
her to blink. The rug was rolled back and there was a huge
hole in the living room floor. The boards had been brought
Every Little Thing About You 207
up, and even from several feet away, she could see a
mound of dirt so high that it was above the line of the floor.
"What in the world are you up to?" Liberty said softly
as she approached. She stared down at the bags still in the
hole, her eyes huge. They looked like money sacks.
"Mrs.--" she looked up to try again but stopped. A
man calmly stood to one side of the room. He held a derringer.
It was pointed right at her.
"You shouldn'thave come inhere," he said congenially. "I wish you hadn't."
"Well, I can leave again," Liberty said, trying to be
calm.
"I'm afraid that won't do at all. I've seen you around.
You know too many people in town."
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Liberty swallowed. "I just wanted to check on Mrs.
Mills."
"Why is everyone so interested in Mrs. Mills today?"
The man sounded testy. With that he motioned with the
gun, and Liberty backed herself into the kitchen. She
thought she might be able to bolt for the door but took too
long to decide. The man came forward, shut it, and ordered
her to sit at the table.
"Where is Mrs. Mills?" Liberty asked quietly, her eyes
straying back to the hole in the floor. To her surprise the
man smiled.
"You think I've murdered my aunt? How barbaric."
"Where is she?"
"Out of town. Just like I told the sheriff. I don't know
why people can't leave well enough alone."
Liberty waited for him to take his eyes from her so she
could make some kind of move, but he never did.
"I guess it will have to be the closet. The one by the
front door locks."
"When will Mrs. Mills be back?" Liberty asked in an
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attempt to stay calm.
"I'm not entirely sure," he replied absently as he tried
to think.
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"Are you really her nephew?"
"On her late husband's side, yes."
"Does she know what you're up to?"
"Come along/' he commanded, ignoring the question
this time. "Back through the living room, and watch the
hole."
Liberty moved as slowly as she could get away with. It
wasn't much floor space to cross, but she moved at a snail's
pace. The front door was almost in reach, but Davis took
that moment to put the gun right against her back.
"All right now," he said as he opened the closet. It was
full of coats, but there was plenty of room to stand. "In you
S -"
Liberty stepped inside and turned to look at him. She
tried for her sternest deputy look.
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"What's your name?"
"Davis. And yours?"
"Liberty."
His brows rose and he chuckled. "Rather ironic, isn't it?
I'm locking freedom in the closet."
The door shut in her face, and she heard the key turn
before she listened to the hollow sound of his shoes as he
walked away. For several seconds she felt as though she
were dreaming. Not in all of her years of law enforcement
had she been held captive. Now here she was--no gun-- and locked in a closet.
"Are you going to put up with this?" Liberty said to the
darkness around her. With that she began to pound and
yell. She kicked on the door, throwing herself against it with
such force that she fell out when it opened. She would have
continued to yell, but there was a derringer in her face.
"You can't do this," Davis said softly. His voice was still
congenial, but his eyes were hard. "I have to leave town
soon, and I can't have you disturbing me. Now you need
to stay in here and be quiet. Have I made myself clear?"
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Every Little Thing About You 209
Liberty nodded, very real fear covering her features.
Davis turned her with a hand to her arm and closed the
door while her back was still to him.
"That was stupid, Libby," she breathed. "He could
have shot you."
She groped for the wall and slid down to a sitting position,
her legs drawn up and her arms around her knees.
Show me what to do, Lord. Show me a way out of this. I don't
know if Mrs. Mitts is all right or not, but I could get myself shot.
He's obviously stolen that money. He needs to go to jail for that.
Liberty stopped when she realized he had said he was
leaving town soon. She let her head fall back against the
wall and prayed again, wishing there was some way to go
for help.
3--3r
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"This is for Libby when she comes home," Laura told
Kate as they sat down to lunch.
"What is it?"
"A picture of our family with the new baby."
"Let me see."
"This is Papa and this is Zach. Libby is by me, and I'm
holding the baby."
"Where am I?"
"You're still in bed."
Kate laughed. "I don't know whether to thank you or
to be insulted."
Laura frowned at her, since the word "insulted" was
new, but Kate only blew a kiss in her direction. Weary from
a morning of work, Kate sat back a little in the chair, a sigh
escaping her as she took a bite of sandwich.
At times like this, Lord, I feel as though I'm going to be tired
for the rest of my life. My attitude has been anxious, and I feel
achy and grumpy all the time. That's not fair to You or any of my
family. Please help me to...
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Laura was going to ask her mother for more milk but
saw that her eyes were closed. Her mother's limp hand and
sandwich lay in her lap, and for a moment Laura just stared
at her. When she didn't open her eyes, Laura, carrying her
own sandwich, moved to the chair right next to her mother
and simply sat still until she awakened.
" * ^
Liberty had moved as quietly as she knew how, but in
the still confines of the closet it sounded so loud. She only
hoped that all the digging and movement from the living
room was muffling the sound.
Liberty had pushed the hem of her dress under the
door as far as she could get it. She then proceeded to use
first a hairpin, then the slim heel of a shoe she encountered,
and finally what she thought might be a knitting needle, to
try to push the key from the lock. She knew the sound of