Chapter Twelve
I pushed myself up on an elbow and squinted at the clock before reaching for the phone. Eight a.m. What crazy person would call me at this time of day?
What day was it?
“Good morning, Ms. Halloren. Earl Clooney here—with Justice Insurance Agency. Listen, I am really sorry to bother you on Saturday morning, but I’m so embarrassed. I wonder if you would rescue me. Somehow we missed signing a form when you were in the other day.”
“A form?” I tried to clear my head and massaged my temple where a dull headache had begun to throb.
“Part of your house insurance packet. It’s an important document and I don’t know how I missed it. Might have been stuck to another page, I guess. But could I stop by this morning?”
“This morning?”
Wake up.
“You see, I’m only a few blocks from you. It would save me some ribbing from the guys at the main office if I could get it faxed in today.”
“Umm. Okay.”
“Great, I’ll come right over. It will only take a minute for you to sign on the dotted line.”
I fell back onto my pillow. “Well, give me ten minutes.”
“Great. See you soon.” The phone went dead. I stared at the ceiling. Why did I tell him he could come?
I crawled out of bed and tugged sweats on over my pajamas.
It had been far less than ten minutes when the knock
rattled the door—just long enough to make coffee. I pressed the warm mug to my forehead as I shuffled to answer it.
“Good morning, Lauren.”
Why was he shouting? He’ll wake the neighbors.
“Morning, Mr. Clooney.” I struggled to raise my voice above a whisper.
“Call me Earl. We’re old friends now.” He followed me to the living room and pulled up a side chair. “Beautiful day out there.”
I collapsed on the sofa. Earl took his sweet time pulling the form from a folder, before handing it to me.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
“No problem.” I scribbled my name on the line marked with an X and pasted a smile on my face when I passed it back to him. “There you go. I’m glad I could help.” Retrieving my coffee, I got to my feet and led the way to the door.
“Yep. It’s a gorgeous day. Just look at that sun.” His smile was becoming infuriating. “You have a good day now, little lady.”
He stepped outside but turned back before his foot hit the first step. “Careful with that caffeine. It’s a killer.” He winked at me and then continued to his car.
“Uh huh.”
This caffeine is the only thing that saved your life today, Earl.
The sofa beckoned me once more, but as I snuggled into the cushions, reality sent a wakeup call. It was Saturday. Rarity would be expecting me at work.
Oh crap.
Chapter Thirteen
F inished. I clicked the Send button to email the article to the editor. The muscles in my back screamed when I stood up, stiffened by eight hours of sitting—four at The Rare Curl reception desk and four more at my computer here at home. I kneaded a knot in my aching neck and turned to consider the weather. Trees, framed by the window, were bent in the wind and silhouetted against a slate sky. A good night to stay home. Clair and Anita expected me at the reunion, but I longed for the sofa and a movie.
The sofa would have won, except the image of Paul Cooper popped into my brain. Is it weird I’ve always loved a mystery?
I ran—half hobbled—for the shower. Forty-five minutes later, I climbed into the car.
Rain pounded the windshield as I trolled the crowded parking lot, up one row and down another. The only available spot was at the back, and I splashed through puddles in my dash for the restaurant.
Clair found me catching my breath under a huge banner that read Welcome Class of ‘89. “Lauren! You’re just in time. Look at the buffet. It’s a feeding frenzy.”
She pushed me into line and put a dinner plate in my hands.
A voice rose above the clatter of dishes. “Lauren James. How are you? Gorgeous as ever, I see.”
“Perry, you’re a flatterer. How’s Marlene?”
I busied myself in choosing the perfect chicken breast.
“She’s fantastic. Working tonight.” Perry Sizemore chose both roast beef and chicken, before turning his attention to a bowl heaped with mashed potatoes. “Wow, nice spread.”
Clair and I carried our plates to join Anita. As Clair settled into her chair, she perused the crowd and chirped, “Oh Paul, here’s an empty chair. Come and talk to us.” She shifted her gaze and shot me a lop-sided grin. He sat two seats away, and she raised her voice. “Paul, do you remember Lauren? She moved back home a few weeks ago.”
A polite smile crossed his face. “Of course. We spoke last night. How are you, Lauren?”
I put down my fork. “I was disappointed we didn’t have time to talk more. I’d love to hear what you did after high school. Someone mentioned you were out of state until a few years ago. Where did you live?”
As if he hadn’t heard me, Paul turned his attention to the far end of the table. “Perry, how’s the sale of that property on Yellowwood Road going?”
My mouth fell open.
That was rude.
“Fabulous. I finally got the seller and buyer to agree.” Perry’s face flushed as he recounted the negotiations.
Perry paused to breathe and I asserted myself. “Paul, tell me about your life after high school. Where did you go?”
Paul froze, his fork poised an inch from his mouth. He plastered on a phony smile.
Was I imagining that?
“College. Then I fell into the rat race and spent my time trying to get ahead, like everyone else.”
I held his gaze. “How did that go? What company did you work for?”
He waved his fork at me, with enough force I was afraid the food might dislodge. “That part of my life isn’t even worth mentioning. I got fed up and left.” His chest expanded with a breath and his face softened. “I moved back to Evelynton, met Missy, and life changed.”
I sat up straighter, glancing around. “Your wife? I’d love to meet her.”
His fork clanged onto his plate. “She’s home with a cold. Perry talked me into making an appearance, but I should be getting back.” He lifted his wrist in an obvious display of checking the time.
“Oh, you haven’t even finished your meal.” I searched for more questions. “Didn’t someone say you were in New York? How did you like the city?”
The softness vanished and his tone turned cross. “Yeah, I was there. I didn’t like it. As I said, I don’t talk about it.” Voices hushed for a few seconds. I returned my attention to my plate and picked at a few green beans. New conversations began around the table.
Another bright idea popped into my mind. “I wish I had my camera.” Ignoring Anita’s raised eyebrows I went on. “I have to get some pictures. Oh wait, my cell phone.”
“It’s here somewhere.” I dug through my bag, finally laying hands on the phone as I heard a chair scrape the floor. “Found it.” I pulled it out in time to see Paul edging into the crowd and snapped a quick photo. The picture caught him in profile. I jumped up, and with Paul in the background, aimed at Clair and Anita, snapping several pictures in rapid succession.
“We didn’t have time to pose.” Clair glared at me. “I had food in my mouth.”
“You looked great, but I’ll take another.” Clair and Anita put their heads together and smiled, and I snapped a couple. This time, Paul had vanished.
Dinner lost its appeal and the swirls of conversation blurred. I’d been obnoxious, but Paul hadn’t given me a direct answer. He never said what he did after high school or where he worked. He got angry. What was that about?
Suddenly exhausted, I picked up my bag and slipped out of the room.
Chapter Fourteen
A drenching rain continued relentlessly during my drive home. Oncomi
ng headlights reflected at odd angles on the wet pavement, obscuring landmarks, and throwing unnerving shadows.
My little house on Stoneybridge appeared at last, and I parked the Chrysler safely in the drive. I pulled my collar close, ducked my head, and ran up the sidewalk.
The door swung open as soon as I turned the key, and a damp breeze whistled through. The house was cold, and my search for an open window stopped short at the kitchen. A black and white cat sat in the middle of the checkered linoleum floor.
“How did…? Oh, I see.” The back door stood open. Must have forgotten to lock it and the wind blew it open. I scolded myself internally while wind-milling my arms and shouting “Shoo, shoo.” This proved effective in herding the kitty to the porch. I opened the screen door and he slunk out. “Good night, cat.”
~
“Two, three, four.” Teaspoons of coffee grounds went into the pot. A good night’s sleep had cleared my thoughts and reminded me of priorities. My imagination had run away from me and I’d been distracted from the goal. I determined to stop wasting my time, pay off debt, and leave this Podunk town.
How much would Aunt Ruth’s antique vases bring? I opened the cupboard. Empty shelves.
The glassware had to be there. Possibly they had been shoved to the back. But when I reached in, my hand landed on bare wood. Opening the next cupboard, and then the next, I found only cheap dishes and canned goods. A jog to the one cupboard in the dining room revealed only table cloths and place mats.
A gloomy mist settled into my heart. It had to have been a robbery. I dashed to the bedroom and pulled open the top dresser drawer. My wedding ring remained securely hidden in the back, wrapped in a sock. I opened other drawers and turned to the closet. Clothes were mussed and out of place, but nothing was missing.
The police department took an irritating four rings to pick up. A woman’s nasally voice drawled. “Evelynton Police Department.”
By that time, my pulse was racing. “I need a policeman. I’ve been robbed and—”
“Stop right there. Start with your name.” I pictured her chewing gum and searching for paper and pencil.
“Um, sorry.” I calmed myself enough to give my name, address, and reason for calling.
She calmly assured me a patrolman would be dispatched as soon as he came in. I wanted to ask “Come in from where?” but thanked her and hung up, with little confidence he would arrive anytime soon.
I climbed the stairs, trying to remember what I’d stored in the spare rooms. A cursory investigation revealed my few belongings intact, and a rapping downstairs announced the arrival of a policeman.
His uniform immaculate, his posture perfect, bare skin above his ears signaled a fresh haircut. He was probably a ten years younger than me, although his grim expression made him look old. “Good morning, ma’am. I’m Officer Farlow with the Evelynton Police Department.”
He appeared more professional than I’d expected in Evelynton and I let out the breath I’d been holding. “I remember. You were next door a few days ago. My friend Anita spoke to you.”
“Yes ma’am. Now about your call. We don’t want to waste time, do we?”
“Sorry. Thank you for your quick response. Please come in.”
I went to the sofa and pulled a blanket around my shoulders. Officer Farlow perched on the side chair and flipped open a notebook. “You say, you were robbed?”
“Yes. I came home last night, and the back door was open, and there was a cat in the kitchen.” I glanced that way, visualizing the scene. “I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I thought the wind blew the door open, but this morning I discovered there were things missing.”
Officer Farlow kept his eyes on his notes as he spoke. “You were out when you think the incident occurred?”
I sat up and pulled the blanket closer. “Yes. I was at my high school reunion and got home about nine o’clock.”
“And that’s when your cat was in the house and you discovered the theft?”
“Um. No. That’s when I discovered the open door and the cat. It’s not my cat, someone else’s. It wasn’t until this morning that I discovered the antique vases missing.”
“Vases.” He jotted a notation. “And what else?”
“As far as I know, that’s all that was taken. I checked through the house and didn’t notice anything.”
Officer Farlow tipped his head at my desk. “Was that computer sitting like that, in plain view, last night?” He glanced around the room. “And the television. It was there last night?”
Perplexed, I glanced at the items and back at Farlow. “Um, yes. I haven’t moved anything.”
“Ms. Halloren, electronic devices are the first things a thief picks up.” He pointed his pen toward both items. “But these are still here.”
I ran my hands through my hair, wishing I had a ponytail holder. “But they’re old. Can’t be worth much.”
“They don’t look old to me.” Another notation in the notebook. “Can you describe the vases, you say were stolen? What kind were they?”
“Um, one was white with a hand painted design of a tree. At least, it looked hand painted. One was crystal. I think it’s cut glass. And there was another one. I think that one was blue. All three were about this tall.” I held one hand above the other, to indicate size. “I’m pretty sure they’re antiques. I inherited them from my aunt, with the house, and I was going to have them appraised. That’s why I looked for them this morning.”
“Not much of a description.” Farlow continued writing.
He flipped the notebook shut and stood. “Let’s take a walk through the house. While I check it out, you can explain to me what you think happened.”
“Okay.” I reluctantly left the blanket on the sofa and led the way to the kitchen, pointing to the back door and the empty cupboard.
He inspected the porch and checked through all my kitchen cupboards before we toured the rest of the house. After taking a quick peek into the bedrooms and bathrooms, he led the way to the living room, where he turned to look me in the eye for the first time.
“Nothing else is missing? So, you think the perpetrator came in specifically for the vases?” He smirked. “This is a small town, Ms. Halloren. We don’t usually run into criminals with a taste for glassware.”
He sobered when I leveled my gaze at him. “Um. Who knew about these vases?”
“Nobody. Or, I don’t know who would know about them. I guess anyone who knew my aunt. I don’t know that the thief came just for the vases. Maybe that’s all he found. I don’t have anything else.”
Farlow looked toward the computer again. “Except the computer, which is still on your desk. And the television.” He slid the notebook into his pocket. “Are you insured?”
I smiled, relieved I’d done something right. “Yes. I signed the papers last week.”
Officer Farlow raised his eyebrows, pulling out the notebook again. “I see. What value did you place on the vases, for insurance purposes?”
“I didn’t, or I don’t know. You see, as I said, I inherited the house from my aunt. When I went for insurance, I asked the agent to give me the same coverage she had.”
His eyes narrowed. “Hmm. Should itemize if you expect to get reimbursement for this. Do you have photos of the items you say were taken?”
“No. I haven’t been here long. Never thought of pictures.”
“Ma’am, I’ll file your complaint. We’ll let you know if we come up with anything. Don’t hold your breath.” He slapped the notebook shut, put it in his pocket, and took two steps toward the door before turning back to me. “Don’t you think it’s odd that some old vases were stolen but your computer and television, were left untouched?”
Why is this man so hung up on that old computer and TV?
Frustration oozed out with my answer. “Well, I guess so, but criminals don’t always think logically, do they?”
With a slight smile, he stuck his index finger in my face. “That’s the truth.”
/>
I stepped back and ignored his stare. “And the vases were valuable antiques—at least I think they were.” I blew out a breath and averted my eyes. “I was going to have them appraised.”
“We’ll never know, will we? Unless, of course, we find the perpetrator.” Farlow continued to the door. “Good day, ma’am.”
After he left, I stood gaping at the closed door, wondering why he’d acted suspicious of me. I hadn’t even thought of insurance money. I only wanted to report the break-in.
Chapter Fifteen
M y desire for coffee had gone out the door with Officer Farlow, but the can of cocoa in the cupboard looked inviting. An old stand-by comfort food.
I poured milk into a pan, placed it on the stove, and began adjusting the flame when I heard tapping at the screen door.
Wallace Binion stood on the steps. I didn’t know him well, but he was a friend of Rarity’s…. I hurried to let him in.
Wallace stepped onto the porch and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Sorry to bother you, but I happened to see the squad car in your drive. Did you have some trouble?”
A warm glow pushed its way through my chest and popped into a smile. Someone cared enough to check on me. “It’s been a strange morning. I’m making hot chocolate. Why don’t you come in and have some with me? I’ll tell you all about it.”
Wallace laughed. “Hot chocolate. I haven’t had that for probably forty years. Sounds great.”
I returned to the stove in time to catch the milk before it boiled.
Wallace stood in the middle of the room, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, while I mixed in the cocoa. “This is a nice kitchen. Everything looks the same as when Miss James was here.”
I contemplated the script above the window before handing Wallace his mug. Were His mercies new every morning?
“I like it, too.”
We sat at the table enjoying hot chocolate while I recounted the events of the morning. “Did you happen to notice anyone in the yard or around the house last night?”
Wallace slowly shook his head. “Shoot. I usually keep an eye on the neighborhood, but I’ve been out of town a few days. Just got home this morning.”
Heart Strings Page 6