Sleep Like a Baby

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Sleep Like a Baby Page 21

by Charlaine Harris


  Ford didn’t seem to have a gun, or at least it wasn’t visible—but he might have another weapon. Any minute he was going to make a decision as to how he’d proceed.

  “Why’d you call these people, Marcy?” He glared at Virginia’s mother. “You’re always against me. Always telling Virgie how bad I am.”

  I looked down so he wouldn’t see my face.

  “I didn’t call them,” Marcy said, more calmly than I would have managed. “The minister here, he called me. He thought I’d be grieving because I didn’t know where my daughter was. He wanted to help. I thought maybe if Virginia explained…”

  “You’ve known all along where Virginia was?” I could not help myself. I had to know.

  “He brought her straight to my house because he has roommates in his apartment and he knew they couldn’t keep quiet about it. So she’s been hiding here since then. It’s been hard to keep the neighbors out. They all wanted to sympathize.”

  All those police spending all those hours looking for Virginia, when she’d been here with her mother all along. I risked looking at Aubrey directly. He wasn’t overtly frightened, but he was very alert. He understood this was a bad situation. I couldn’t see it ending well for all of us.

  I thought, None of them have a plan, either. I assumed Marcy had wanted me to hear her daughter’s side, so I wouldn’t be angry with Virginia for abandoning us. (It hadn’t worked, by the way.) Virginia had wanted to tell her story because she felt guilty, and because she knew she’d done a stupid thing by not calling the police immediately.

  Ford Harrison was faced with a situation he couldn’t see a way out of; I could tell from his face that the man simply didn’t know what to do next.

  Would he stop us if we tried to go? Would he hurt us? I couldn’t even guess.

  “Who do you think killed Tracy Beal?” I asked Virginia directly. “I guess you read the newspaper stories, and you know she was a stalker.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Virginia said. “And it wasn’t Ford, because I watched him drive away before I saw her in the house.”

  “That’s all I care about,” I said, lying outright. “I understand why you left, and why you took Robin’s keys, and even why Ford wanted to get my purse back any way he could.” I hoped my nose wasn’t growing longer by the second. “I just want to know who killed Tracy.”

  After all, how many people could have been prowling around our yard in the dark with a storm approaching? I had a sudden, simple association of ideas, but this wasn’t the time to pursue it. I had to get out of this impasse first.

  “Ford, are you going to let us walk out of here?” I said. I stood to go, and Aubrey stood with me. I had no idea what he was thinking, but at least he wasn’t putting a spoke in my wheels. “You know this story has to be told. You know there’s no way around it.” I nodded at Aubrey. “We both have families. They know where we are. They’ll miss us.”

  Ford looked baffled. He hadn’t thought this through when he’d come in Virginia’s mom’s back door. Maybe he was realizing that if he’d stayed out of it, this moment would have been much easier for everyone, including him. Virginia had explained her boyfriend’s actions much better than he could, though there seemed to be something he hadn’t yet told us. Ford shook his head like a bull pestered by a fly. “You’d better not tell the cops,” he said. But his threat was empty and pointless.

  To make the moment absolutely excruciating, Virginia began crying. My nerves frayed a bit more. My unsettled hormones set up a dance in my system, and my anger grew to explosive levels. I could barely hold myself in check.

  I’d thought we were possibly going to leave without any further trouble, but the sound of Virginia’s sobs triggered something in Ford.

  “It’s your fault coming here,” he said with real anger in his voice, and he lunged at Aubrey, who was totally unprepared. Ford’s fist drew back to punch Aubrey in the head, and I just snapped. Before I could think, I leaped into the air and crashed into Ford and hit him upside his head with all the force I could muster.

  He staggered sideways, tripped on an ottoman, and banged his head on the arm of a rocking chair as he went down.

  I fared better. I staggered forward, but I was able to catch myself before I hit the floor.

  “You killed him!” shrieked Virginia, as Aubrey pulled out his phone and dialed 911.

  I almost said, I hope so. But that wasn’t true … well, not completely.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The police had been parked outside the whole time. After studying Virginia’s phone, they’d concluded that it was obvious her ex-boyfriend knew what had happened that night. He hadn’t been at his apartment, so they’d staked out the Mitchell house. They didn’t know Virginia was there, but they figured it was likely Ford would at least stop in.

  So they were inside in seconds after Aubrey’s call.

  At least I got to talk to some different police.

  It was a confusing hour.

  Aubrey and I tried to explain why we were at Marcy Mitchell’s house. I tried to explain why I had hit Ford. Marcy tried to explain why she had consented to our visit. Virginia tried to tell the police that Ford wasn’t guilty of any wrongdoing. When they begged to differ, she behaved as though he was being dragged off to be burned at the stake, when in fact he was being taken to the nearest hospital to have a head X-ray.

  Ford had come to right away, if he’d ever really been knocked out. He was highly indignant while he told the Truman police how I’d attacked him.

  The largest cop started laughing.

  “You’re really going to claim she knocked you out?” Officer Dale Finch said, when he could talk. He was a big, bluff man with a weathered face and thinning sandy hair. If you’d seen an entry for “cop” in a dictionary, Finch’s picture would have been right beside it.

  Ford glowered down at me from his six foot plus. “She did, man.”

  I looked up at him from my five foot minus. It worked.

  Marcy and Virginia told Officer Finch that Ford had taken the first swing. I wasn’t surprised at Marcy’s testimony, but Virginia agreeing … that startled me.

  Not that I was going to object.

  The small living room grew so crowded that Finch gestured Aubrey and me outside. Another officer joined us.

  Finch and his partner had been asked to watch Marcy’s house by the Lawrenceton police, and they were quick to call SPACOLEC to say they had Ford in custody. “And you can call off the search for Virginia Mitchell. She’s sitting in her mother’s house, crying,” Finch added. When he’d finished the conversation, Finch wore a different face. There was no humor in it whatsoever.

  “Your Detective Suit will be here in fifteen, twenty, minutes,” he said.

  Ford was taken to the hospital in handcuffs, Virginia trailing behind him as far as the car, still weeping. Marcy came out to ask the police if they wanted some sweet tea.

  Then Robin’s car pulled to the curb, and he jumped out. There was no romantic rush across the yard to draw me into his arms, because he had to extricate Sophie from her car seat. She was bawling at gale force.

  I felt that strange prickling in my chest, triggered by her wail. Just like Pavlov’s dog, I thought. Officer Finch was surprised to see a man holding a screaming infant hurrying up from the curb. The policeman held up his hand in the universal “stop” gesture.

  “I have the baby,” Robin said, apparently thinking that was explanation enough. “It’s feeding time.”

  Damp spots appeared on the front of my red T-shirt.

  Officer Finch turned bright red and tried to keep his eyes above my neck.

  “You go sit in the car and take care of that little baby, ma’am,” Finch said.

  “Thanks.” I didn’t waste any time.

  Within seconds, Robin and I were sitting in the front seat, I had a receiving blanket covering the action, and both Sophie and I were very relieved. “That feels so much better,” I said. I now carried only one rock on my chest ins
tead of two.

  “I got worried when I didn’t hear from you, and then Phillip came home and said someone had told him Virginia had been found, on Instagram. How do they do it? I knew where you were going, so I came here as fast as I could. Tell me about it.”

  So I did.

  Robin made appropriate noises of amazement, horror, and admiration. But when I was finished, he said, “Never again. Roe, you were in danger. I blame Aubrey, you bet I do, because he brought you over here. But why the hell didn’t you hit 911 the minute you saw her sitting on the couch?”

  Because it had not occurred to me. I’d wanted to hear her story. After a moment of silence, I admitted that.

  “Okay, I can understand that you were blindsided by the shock. But you hit him.”

  “I had to jump high to do it, too,” I said, with what I felt was pardonable pride. “I hung air. Is that the right usage?”

  Robin nodded, with the air of a man who was keeping a rein on himself by the narrowest of margins.

  With a sigh of relief, I switched Sophie to the other breast. Her eyes closed, she resumed her favorite activity. She was still enthusiastic, but she was slowing down.

  “Honey, you were in real danger.” Robin was using the level, reasonable voice that indicated he was really upset. “What would have happened if he’d had a gun or a knife?”

  “If he’d had a gun or a knife, he’d have threatened us with it right away,” I said. “I’m not a total idiot. But I just lost it. When he was going to sock Aubrey, I thought, He’s not getting to be the boss of this situation. And before I knew it, I jumped and I really, really hit him. It felt great. Emotionally, that is. I think my hand is going to be real sore tomorrow.”

  “I love you,” Robin said, and I looked up from Sophie’s intent little face to meet his bright blue eyes.

  My little shell of bravado cracked and fell apart. “I love you, too,” I said.

  “If you’re ever in danger again, please think twice,” he said, in such an earnest voice that I almost cried. “This won’t be funny, to me or Sophie, if something happens to you.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to me, but somehow stuff always does,” I said. “I got so angry. With people blaming us somehow because Tracy died in our yard. With people thinking somehow we were implicated. And she took your sweater!”

  Robin looked startled. “But clearly, I couldn’t have done it.”

  I nodded. “I know that, and you know that, and the police know that. But people were talking. I couldn’t stand them thinking wrong things about you, I’ve really wanted to hit someone for days. Finally, there was someone who needed to be hit.”

  This time his mouth crinkled up at the corners. “But not again,” he reminded me. “I suppose the rumors were triggered by Jonathan Cohen saying he saw me that night? I must be a criminal mastermind and able to warp time.”

  “Yes, it’s ridiculous. But the person who did kill Tracy must not have been far when she was found. Think about it. Within minutes, the yard was empty except for the body. Without your sweater. And Virginia didn’t see or hear anyone, at least that’s what she said.”

  “What are the odds that we’d have two prowlers on the same night?” Robin said slowly.

  “Even for someone with my luck, that’s simply unbelievable.”

  “You’re saying that the murderer must live close.”

  Sophie’s mouth had fallen open to release me, and she was out cold. I slid her into an upright position and began patting her on the back. Almost immediately she gave one of her huge burps. Her eyes fluttered open for a second, but she could not manage to stay awake. All that wailing had worn her out.

  I knew how she felt. My rush of adrenaline had receded, leaving me feeling almost supernaturally calm and drained. Well, these days, I was used to feeling drained.

  “What do you think really happened?” Robin said.

  “I’m working it out in my head. I’m not trying to be mysterious, but there’s a thread of an idea tugging at me. Virginia sounds innocent to me. If she caught Tracy in the house and Tracy threatened her, Virginia would defend herself, I guess. But she wouldn’t chase Tracy out in the yard and bash her over the head. Not her house, not her yard … not her baby.”

  “No,” Robin said absently. “She wouldn’t do that. And Ford, whatever else he may have done, is in the clear, too. He left—the first time—before Virginia encountered Tracy.”

  We looked at each other thoughtfully.

  Finally, I smiled. “So Virginia wasn’t murdered, Ford was the tall thin guy who went in our backyard, and it’s good to know those things. I can’t figure out anything else until the dust settles in my brain.”

  He smiled back. “Think we can go home now? I left Phillip to answer the phone, but he’s pretty worried about you.”

  “I’ll ask Officer Finch.”

  The Lawrenceton police force, in the form of Detective Suit and Detective Trumble, had arrived. They were on the lawn talking to Finch. Their eyes swiveled toward me as I approached.

  “How’s the hand, Roe?” Levon was trying to suppress a smile. He seemed quietly jubilant.

  “I’d like to go home and put some ice on it. Can we leave?”

  “We’ll come by to talk to you tomorrow,” Cathy said. She looked oddly wired—very tense, but with an undertone of the same muted elation. “We got a call from Rick Morrison, whose toolshed got broken into … the break-in Ford Harrison was arrested for, the one he was out on bail for.” She grinned, and it was terrifying. “Turns out Ford had spotted the lock was easy to break while he was installing Rick’s security system. Do you know what else was in the shed, an item Rick maintains he had completely forgotten until the shootings?”

  “No,” I said. My brain was not exactly working at top speed.

  “A rifle,” Cathy said. “Almost surely the rifle we recovered from my nephew at the scene of the hospital shootings.”

  I gaped at her. “No wonder Ford didn’t want Virginia to call the police,” I said. “That was the night of the party shooting, right? He must have suspected the rifle he’d sold to your nephew was the rifle used.”

  “I am going to nail his ass to the wall,” Cathy said. “Tell me the truth. Did you know Virginia was here when you came here with Father Scott?”

  “Absolutely not. Aubrey brought me here for some kind of mercy visit.” I glanced over at my priest, who was standing in the doorway talking to Marcy Mitchell. He had certainly gotten more than he’d bargained for. “I was glad to see she was alive, but I was mad, too, because everyone was looking for her,” I said. That was a condensation of my feelings about Virginia. I felt she’d done her best to shield Sophie and me under the circumstances, but then I’d veer into exasperation at her poor choice of male friend, at her letting him talk her into doing dumb things.

  “Virginia tells us she doesn’t know who killed the Beal woman,” Levon said.

  “It would sure be nice if she did,” I said.

  They both nodded. “Well, if I can go, Robin and I are headed home.”

  Aubrey intercepted me on my way to the car. Robin, who’d been buckling Sophie in her car seat, glared at Aubrey’s back.

  “The last rites for Tracy Beal will be tomorrow at Memorial Funeral Home, in Anders.” He looked at me expectantly.

  “Aubrey, you don’t really expect me to go?” I was incredulous. “That would be bizarre. And inappropriate.”

  Aubrey looked disconcerted. Then he said, “I understand. I got carried away with my own interior quest.”

  I raised my eyebrows inquiringly.

  “My constant attempt to forgive the people who hurt Liza. You got the side effect of my overzealousness. I’m sorry bringing you here today turned out to be such a…” He stopped, at a loss for words about what the incident had become.

  “Revelation,” I suggested. “Ordeal. Fiasco. Take your pick. I know you had a good motive, Aubrey. But it sure backfired pretty spectacularly.”

  “Again, I’m
really sorry—”

  I rolled right over him. I felt entitled. “I know you couldn’t have foreseen Virginia would be safe and sound in her mother’s house, or that she would want to get everything off her conscience. It’s a step forward, knowing she’s safe.”

  Aubrey looked relieved, but I didn’t want to talk to him any more. Once again, I started toward Robin’s car. This time, Finch intercepted me, with Levon and Cathy trailing him. What now?

  “Have you heard from the hospital?” I asked. “I guess I didn’t crack Ford’s skull with my mighty blow?”

  “You did not cause any permanent damage,” Finch told me, with a straight face. “I’m going to talk to the guys sharing his apartment, and your Lawrenceton cop buddies are coming with me.”

  “Will Virginia be charged with anything?” But the law enforcement personnel of Georgia had reached an end of tolerance with me.

  “We’ll let you know when we need to,” Cathy said, her face all squinched up and disapproving.

  I’d clearly been put in my place, which didn’t bother me at all. At last I got to walk away without anyone stopping me. We drove out of Truman, half-expecting someone to come after us.

  Robin said, very slowly, “Tracy always knew where I was going to be, before. If the e-mails I got, the strange ones, were from her, she had access to the Internet. If she had access to the Internet, she’d know we’d gotten married. And she’d know about the Anthony nomination. She could find out from the attendees list that I would be at Bouchercon.”

  “Why would she sneak into our house, if she knew you were going to be gone?” When I considered possible answers, every one of them was terrifying. “Maybe…” I faltered. “Maybe she thought she’d clear the deck while you were out of the picture? Get rid of your old wife to make way for the new … who would be her.”

  Robin focused extra hard on the road ahead of us. His mouth was set in a grim line. Finally he said, “Maybe she didn’t know we’d had a baby.” Robin glanced over at me.

 

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