Sleep Like a Baby

by Charlaine Harris

  Finally, I retreated to the living room to spare myself more misery. I was looking around helplessly, trying to find a place to sit with Sophie. Cathy pulled one of the armchairs upright and replaced the cushions.

  “Thank you,” I said, absurdly grateful. “Cathy, I don’t understand this at all. Nothing’s missing! At least, nothing that wasn’t already missing, Robin’s keys and his old sweater. And the only rooms wrecked were this one, our bedroom, and Sophie’s room. Why?”

  “Can you think of anything that would, I don’t know, group those rooms together?” Cathy righted a chair for herself.

  I thought and thought, and then it came to me; it should have been obvious immediately. “Those are the rooms Virginia was in,” I said. “She didn’t need to go in Robin’s office or Phillip’s room. By the way, did you get any useful information off her phone?” I just threw that in there to see if I could learn something.

  Cathy said, “That’s police business, not yours. You’ve got enough trouble of your own without taking on more.”

  That was for sure.

  “Can you tell me who has a key to your house?” Cathy said this in a matter-of-fact way, but as she waited for my answer she was very serious.

  “Me and Robin, Phillip of course, and my mom has a key in case of emergency,” I said. “That’s all.”

  “No maids?”

  “We’re always here to let them in.”

  “Did you have the locks changed when you moved in?”

  “No.” I started to add, “Why would I?” But the words never left my mouth. Arnie Petrosian might have a key, from his “friendship” with Laurie Martinez. I was racked with indecision. Would it be wrong to mention this to the police?

  Officer Dan strolled in, and stood beside Cathy’s chair. The next question he asked solved my dilemma.

  “I see you have a brand-new security system,” he said.

  “How’d you know it was brand-new?”

  “The manual is still stuck behind the keypad.”

  “Oh. Yeah, Arnie Petrosian and his assistant were here this afternoon installing it. He said he knew the Martinezes pretty well.” I put a little emphasis on the last two words, hoping they’d get my drift.

  “He did?” Cathy looked thoughtful.

  “It was his assistant who bothered us,” I said.

  “How so?” Cathy was tapping on her phone.

  “Robin was pretty sure he’d been going through my purse, or the kitchen drawers, while he was alone in the kitchen area.”

  “What was his name?” Dan was eager.

  “Arnie never introduced him.”

  Cathy looked as if she didn’t think much of my brains. “And Robin didn’t call us,” she said.

  “He wasn’t a hundred percent sure. So we talked to Arnie about him, and Arnie acted kind of weird, but he said he’d fire him. Arnie would fire the assistant,” I said, to clarify.

  “So tell me,” Dan said. “Since you just got this system installed, why didn’t you set it when you left the house this afternoon?”

  “He didn’t have one part or something, so it’s not active yet. He said he was coming back tomorrow morning first thing.”

  Cathy and Dan (what was his first name?) both gave me the same look; as if I were the dumbest creature on God’s green earth. I didn’t think I deserved that much scorn. I’d trusted an elected official of the county, and after all, getting a home security system was a good thing.

  When Cathy and Dan went to the door, I followed them. Standing in the open doorway, Cathy reminded me someone would be by to dust for prints in about half an hour. “And for God’s sake, when Arnie comes back to finish, pick a code and arm the system,” she added.

  “We will.” As they walked to their cars, I stepped outside with them. Despite all my troubles, it was a beautiful day.

  A car pulled in to the curb, and my friend Angel got out. She had Lorna with her, and she extricated her toddler from the huge car seat and expertly balanced the child on one hip. Since Lorna was three years old, that was quite a load, but Angel could handle it easily.

  “Woe!” Lorna said, as she and Angel neared us. (That was as close as Lorna could get to “Roe,” and it had stuck.) Truly her mother’s daughter, Lorna exhibited no excitement (or enthusiasm) when she recognized me.

  “Yeah?” Angel said, looking at the patrol car and the unmarked car.

  Cathy and Officer Dan stood still in our driveway. It was like the two officers had spotted a dangerous animal. They both looked cautious and wary.

  “Break-in,” I said, inaccurately.

  Cathy corrected me instantly. “Not a break-in. Some unauthorized person came in with a key.”

  “Angel Youngblood, this is Detective Cathy Trumble, and Officer Dan.”

  “Cleve Dan,” he said, and I felt relieved. At last, I knew his name.

  “I know Ms. Youngblood,” Cathy said. She didn’t sound happy about it. “We met when someone tried to snatch her purse from her car while she was getting gas.”

  “I stopped him,” Angel told me. Not that I had ever doubted it.

  “She gave him a trip to the emergency room,” Cathy said.

  Angel tilted her head toward Lorna. “My daughter was in the car.”

  “I understand,” I said, with enough energy to startle the officers. I had gotten in touch with my inner savage now. I was completely on Angel’s page.

  “Ms. Teagarden here didn’t report a man her husband found going through things in their kitchen,” Cleve Dan said, inviting Angel to join him in the club of people who found that ridiculous.

  “She can report or not, as she wants.” Angel’s look would have squashed a bug. “You got a security system?” she asked me, inclining her head to the Spartan Shield sign Arnie had planted in our front flowerbed.

  “It seemed like a good thing to do. But it won’t be ready to arm until tomorrow.”

  “It’s pretty interesting that someone came in the day before the system was going to go active.” She made sure the two police officers heard her.

  Lorna had been quiet all this time, but now she said, “Down, Mama.”

  “Sugar, we’re just stopping off to check on our friend,” Angel said. “We’ve got to fix supper for your dad.” Angel looked from Lorna to me. “We were just on our way home with our groceries when we saw the police cars.”

  “Edamame?” Lorna said hopefully, and I hoped my jaw didn’t drop too far. Cathy and Cleve Dan looked startled.

  “Sure, honey, we’ll have edamame. And some fruit. And maybe some tofu. Or pineapple, you want that?”

  “Wonton noodles?” Lorna had trouble with the “noodles” but it came out recognizable.

  “Sounds good.” Angel smiled down at Lorna, and her face transformed. As she turned to leave, she slipped me a wink, and I grinned back at her.

  Cleve Dan watched Angel until she buckled Lorna into her car seat and left.

  He’d obviously never met Shelby, her husband. Not that Angel needed anyone to run interference for her. She and Shelby had done bodyguard work before coming to Lawrenceton.

  When she’d gone and I had the full attention of Cathy and Cleve Dan, I told them something I’d just remembered. Overshadowed by the discovery of the telephone in my purse was the fact that we’d found it because we’d been searching for Robin’s keys. “I mentioned them before, when you were asking about missing things, but the keys have only been missing since Robin went to Bouchercon. He’s sure he left them here.”

  “And you just now remembered that?”

  I had had it with the sarcastic cops. “Yes, I just now did,” I snapped, and stomped into the house.

  There was nothing more I wanted than to share a good gripe with Robin, but it was not to be. Sophie began crying the minute we stepped inside. I had to wait until later that night, after supper and Sophie’s bath, before Robin and I got to talk. Phillip had gone to Sarah’s house after taking his turn with the dishes, but not without ostentatiously checking the ca
lendar to make sure it was his day. (After he’d questioned me three times in a row in previous weeks, I’d marked the calendar so there couldn’t be any dispute.)

  I told him about my conversation with Amina, which seemed a month ago instead of the day before. I had left a voice mail on Levon’s work phone, since he’d wanted to know who had recommended Virginia to my mother. I hadn’t heard back, but I hadn’t expected to. That was a dead end.

  Robin decided to take my keys to get another set made, first thing in the morning. “I called about getting the locks changed, but the locksmith can’t come for two weeks. I’ll need keys in the meantime. I’m giving up on my original set,” he said. “Maybe a year from now we’ll find it in the lint trap of the dryer.”

  “Or the bottom of the fruit basket.” I got up to check the basket while I was thinking of it. Of course, the keys weren’t there.

  We picked out a code for the security system, which turned out to be a longer discussion than I’d imagined. The number had to be one we’d both remember, and it couldn’t be super obvious, like Sophie’s birthday. But we finally came to an agreement.

  “Tomorrow night, the Shield will protect us,” I said, quoting the brochure Arnie had left. “Will you feel safer?”

  “To an extent. But we’re changing the locks, too. I’m taking care of my family in any way I can.”

  I gave Robin a fervent hug. He returned it with the same feeling.

  We speculated for about five minutes on who might have broken in (excuse me, unlocked and strolled into) our house, and why. But then we abandoned that fruitless discussion to do something much more agreeable.

  I think anyone would admit that we had had a trying day. But at the end of it, I felt content and safe with Robin.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  After Phillip had left the next morning to go work out with Josh, we had a visitor. Another visitor. Arnie Petrosian had shown up at 8:30, before I was even dressed, to put the final touch on our security system.

  I heard Robin tell him, “We had an intruder yesterday.”

  There was a brief silence. “No!” Arnie said. “Was anything taken?”

  “Not that we’ve been able to find. But the police think he had a key.”

  “You’re going to have your locks changed, as soon as possible, right? I know a good locksmith.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve already put in a few calls.” Their voices faded as they entered Phillip’s room, the one needing the component Arnie hadn’t had yesterday. Arnie was as good as his word. He was through in five minutes, and I heard the two men talking as Robin walked Arnie out.

  I got dressed and brushed my hair and teeth as quickly as I could, because I just knew we were going to have more callers. Our house was as busy as an airport these days.

  Aubrey Scott, our priest, arrived at nine o’clock. He’d called earlier “to make sure you’re at home,” which gave us a much-needed heads-up. We’d put everything back together the evening before with Phillip’s help—and Sarah’s—but there were still odds and ends to replace. I worked on that while Robin abandoned his computer to tidy the kitchen.

  Aubrey was our friend, our priest, and a great guy. He (probably) wouldn’t have cared at all if I’d come to the door in my bathrobe and the breakfast dishes had been strewn on the counter.

  But I cared. Robin did, too.

  As we swapped greetings, I really looked at Aubrey for the first time in a while. He was more serious than he had been before the awful events of the year before, and there was something luminous in his face that hinted Aubrey had undergone a spiritual earthquake. I thought he might bless us, which would be very non-Episcopalian first thing in the morning, but he just said, “Hi.”

  After the mandatory offering of a drink, we invited Aubrey to have a seat. Our priest was always busy, so I knew he hadn’t come to engage in idle chitchat.

  “You don’t know how much I appreciate Emily’s help when I was so sick,” I said. (I didn’t add how surprised I’d been that she’d given it.)

  “You won Emily’s heart by coming to our daughter’s rescue when she was abducted,” Aubrey said simply. “Emily and I have both gone through some changes, as a result of that ordeal.”

  I felt very awkward. There’s a reason Episcopalians are called the “Frozen Chosen.” To gain a little time, I took my glasses off (the blue ones) and polished them with the hem of my T-shirt. “I’m glad all the kids are okay,” I said. They might have buried emotional problems from the ordeal, but they’d all recovered physically. “I hope Liza is happy? Emily said she’s much better placed, now.” If I remembered correctly. I’d been in and out of that conversation.

  “She is. The new school and a new group of friends have been the best thing in the world for her. I don’t know if the private school exactly prepares Liza for the real world … but I know she met the real world last year, and she doesn’t need another dose this soon.”

  “Of course,” I said. I wondered why Aubrey was here. He could simply be showing that he recognized we’d had a crisis. That would be welcome. But I felt he was working his way toward something. I could not have been more surprised when he came out with it.

  “Do you have any idea when the funeral will be?” Aubrey looked at us with gentle inquiry on his face.

  “Funeral?” I drew a blank.

  “For Tracy Beal. The woman who was killed in your yard,” Aubrey added, in case we might have forgotten.

  I didn’t dare look at Robin.

  “We would be the last to know,” Robin said slowly, not bothering to conceal his astonishment. “Tracy Beal was a stalker. She was going to be tried for making a serious attempt to kill Roe. She came in our house uninvited, in the night. Into the room of our daughter.”

  Aubrey was clearly troubled. “I understand your … dislike of this woman,” he said. “But try to find it in your hearts to forgive her. Or at least, to have compassion for her mental illness. I realize wanting to feel those things doesn’t guarantee it’ll happen overnight, but it’s a goal to work towards.”

  I glanced up at Robin. We both nodded cautiously. We weren’t buying into this, but we could let Aubrey know we’d registered his advice.

  I was sure he was about to leave, but Aubrey had more surprises to pull out of his ministerial hat. “Roe, I wonder if you’d go with me to see the mother of Virginia Mitchell.”

  “Why?” I couldn’t think of a single reason this would appeal to me.

  “She’s frightened for her daughter’s safety.”

  “You know this how?”

  “I called Mrs. Mitchell to tell her we were praying for the safe return of her daughter.”

  Robin’s eyes met mine and he shrugged, leaving it up to me. He didn’t look happy, though.

  “How far away does she live?” I said, playing for time.

  “About a twenty- or thirty-minute drive away, if it’s not rush hour,” Aubrey said.

  I hesitated, dreading the additional wear and tear on my emotions such a visit was sure to cause. But this was my priest asking. I hadn’t thought of what Virginia’s mother must be enduring, and I felt bad about that. But it was more a dull, dutiful guilt than a sharply felt pang.

  “All right, Aubrey,” I said, with no enthusiasm whatsoever. “We’ll have to coordinate it with Sophie. If we leave right after I feed her, we’ll need to be back in two hours.”

  Aubrey looked pleased. Not at all to my surprise, he said he was ready to go anytime I was. “This morning would be okay,” I said. “I think she’ll be up in half an hour, at the most.” The sooner to get it over with, I thought.

  Sophie woke up grouchy. I could tell from Robin’s face he’d been hoping to get a little work in today, since he’d missed so many hours this past week. I suggested, hesitantly, that I might take her with me.

  Aubrey didn’t look unwilling, though he also didn’t look enthusiastic, but Robin balked. “Roe, you won’t want a crying baby on deck for a conversation that’s sure to be uncomfortable,”
he pointed out.

  So after I’d given Sophie my all (in the way of milk, at least), Aubrey and I drove away. I was preoccupied. Sophie was still acting mad at the world. I was brooding about her unprecedented mood, and about dumping her on Robin. Could she have had gas? Maybe she’d started cutting a tooth (though surely it was too early for that)? Oh, gosh, maybe she’d caught the flu. But she hadn’t felt hot.

  There were too many possibilities to count.

  I kept telling myself that Robin had promised he’d call if she didn’t calm down. Up until this morning, she’d been a reasonable baby. Now I knew how lucky we’d been.

  I made myself have a conversation with Aubrey as he maneuvered through the traffic. We talked about John, and how soon he might be able to come back to church. We talked about the very strong-willed lady who was the head of the Christmas bake and craft sale, and wondered who’d cry this year when she bore down.

  Aubrey had heard that John David was dating Lizanne, and he wished them well. Maybe the same elements that had made John David’s marriage to the volatile (now deceased) Poppy so unstable would make a solid relationship with the immensely calm Lizanne Sewell?

  Aubrey never said anything bad about anyone, but he was realistic about human nature.

  “How does being a mother compare to what you thought it would be?” Aubrey asked. We were at a stoplight. The kids in the next car were staring at Aubrey’s collar, and seemed to be having a heated argument about what my presence in his car might mean.

  “I don’t know that I ever tried to imagine it,” I said slowly. “I was so sure I couldn’t be a mother, I didn’t think about it. I can tell you that my whole view of the world changed.”

  “How so?”

  “There are things that will be good for your baby, and things that will not be good. Just two categories. There are people who mean no harm to your baby, and people who might hurt her. Just two kinds. Then there’s the moral things you have to teach, and that’s a lot harder. I’m working on a policy. I bet Robin is, too.”