by Alana Terry
She gazed at him as if he’d understand now, but he didn’t. Eager to change the subject, he latched onto the first thing that came to mind. “So where is the dress you bought her?”
Her hands fumbled beneath the couch, reaching for her laptop. Within a minute or so, she held it out to him and nodded at the screen. “When I was in New York, I asked Silva if she had anything small enough for Lorie—she’s a tiny little thing—and Silva showed me this.”
“Pretty. Who’s Silva?” A new idea tumbled in his mind. The question was whether it would put her in an awkward position. Wealthy—living in the small bungalow that she called a cottage was deceptive. She had to have millions considering the success of her books, the movie deals, and such. Dollars are always a prime incentive to crime.
His thoughts jerked back to Alexa’s explanation. “—designer in New York. She has a fabulous boutique—Cutting Room Floor.”
“Is that where you bought that green one you showed me?”
“Yes...” Alexa blushed—something that few women did well in his experience. She looked charming. Joe nearly gagged. Charming? He thought she looked charming? What alien race had taken over his mind? “—ordered a new one on Friday. I hope it makes it by Wednesday.”
“A new green one? What happened to the other one?”
Alexa confiscated her laptop and her fingers skipped over the keys while she called up a website and scrolled to find what she wanted. “No, the green one is fine. I planned to wear it at first, but it’s more—conspicuous—than Lorie’s, I mean. I want her to shine. In other words, I wanted an excuse to buy this one.”
She passed him the laptop. The dress would be stunning—what wouldn’t be on someone like Alexa? “Buying the shoes too?”
“Too extravagant?”
Joe made up his mind at the question. He’d do it. It’d be fun—if Lorie was not too young. “I would imagine you can afford it.” He glanced at the screen. Time to get on with his plan. “How old is Lorie?”
“Sixteen? Seventeen? Somewhere in there. Now I can’t remember.”
His eyes slid to the dress. A tux. His idea would require a tux. Still, he wanted to see for himself that the girl and her father were truly trustworthy. “Are tickets sold out yet?”
“Don’t know. Usually they are, but this year’s Gala is now a ball—not just for the over twenty-one crowd—so sales were slower. Why?”
“Can you check?”
“Why?”
He didn’t want to answer. “Still thinking...”
She accepted the laptop and went to search the website. “It looks... yes, they do have tickets left. I doubt there are many.”
His mind made up, Joe plunged into his idea. “Look, my family is in Waukegan. I thought maybe—”
“What?”
“I have a little brother—Jeremy. He’s a good kid—nice looking and not a jerk, you know?”
“Are you trying to set up Lorie with your brother?”
“I’m going home for a few days. I thought that maybe Jeremy and I could take you and your friend to the thing. He loves blind dates—”
“Oh, Joe really...”
“No, he does. He’s great with new people, but asking a girl out—even if he knows her well—terrifies him. So, he lets his friends and family set him up.”
“What if it’s a bad date? That’s crazy.”
It was evident Alexa didn’t believe him. “I know, but he says that if he doesn’t like her, she won’t be surprised or offended if he doesn’t call again. He never chose her in the first place.”
“How often does he call back?”
“Well, he doesn’t go out much to begin with, so not much, but I’d say more often than not.”
Several seconds passed as she considered his offer. “Of course, Lorie has the right to veto, but I’ll call and see if she wants to do it. If she’s game, I am. But—”
“What?”
“This is a nice thing to do for your brother and everything, but um, essentially, that makes me your date. How is Shannon going to feel about that?”
“She won’t think anything of it. We’re not exclusive. There also isn’t anything serious between us and there never will be. She goes out with several guys on a regular basis. I’m just there for whenever someone else isn’t.”
Alexa looked skeptical. “Friday...”
“I’m serious. She’s who I go out with when the guys are busy, I just want to do something fun with a girl, or for those rare occasion when a date is essential—or safer. I’m not going to pretend I don’t know she’d like it to be... more. She also knows that’s not a possibility.”
“She’s not a Christian?”
Joe shook his head. “It’s not that. She’s a Christian. She just wants a family, a house with a picket fence, a minivan, and a dog. I can’t give her that.”
“Well, Friday, I’d be pleased to accept your escort next Monday evening—provided Lorie and Darrin agree.”
Joe pulled out his phone and grimaced. “I’m back on the clock. Let me call to check in, and then I have one more thing to discuss with you.”
After he called, Joe sat back on the floor next to her so he could be sure to watch her expression well. “I should mention that this is official. I’ll be reporting on our conversation.”
“Okaaay...”
“What do you know about your neighbor—Heather? Do you know her last name?”
“I—I don’t know them well at all, really. I helped when they moved in—watched the kids. I was surprised that she let a stranger take the kids off like that, but...”
“So that’s all? Haven’t I seen them with you at church?”
“Sometimes. When they’re home on the weekend, they walk with me. I’ve gone to school things a time or two—not much. If she needs a sitter in a pinch, she calls.”
“Weird to think that anyone would call the local celebrity for babysitting.”
“It’s nice that someone just treats me like a neighbor.”
“But you don’t know her, really,” Joe clarified.
“I don’t know her at all. We’ve never talked much. I used to think it was because she’s just a busy single mom, and I’m not exactly sociable...”
“But?”
“Why are you asking about her? Has she done something wrong?”
Joe shook his head. “Not that we know of, but when I left to get my sleeping bag the other night, two people were arguing in her living room. I drove around the corner and pulled into the alley.”
“And?”
There was a white Ford Focus parked behind her house.”
“Do you think—”
He shrugged. “It looks bad. We ran the plates—registered to a Hunter Lloyd.”
“Never heard of him. First Hunter Badgerton and now Hunter Lloyd...”
Joe pulled out his phone and sent a text to the station. “I’m going to have them send me his photo. While I’m doing that, think about the couple that you saw walk past your house. Could the woman have been Heather?”
Alexa’s head shook “no” before he finished his sentence. “I saw them twice. No way was it Heather.”
He passed her the phone, hopeful but expecting nothing. “What about him?”
The longer she stared, the more convinced he was that she wouldn’t recognize him. “I can’t say. I just don’t know. He’s similar enough to make it impossible to say no, but that’s all I can say.”
“That’s what I suspected.” He stood. “Ok, gotta get out there and make sure there are no inebriated drivers or other unseemly characters lurking on the streets.” He winked at her. “Call if you hear from your friend. I should try to get tickets sooner than later.”
“I’ll just order them after I get off the phone with Lorie. We can settle up later.”
“Deal.”
Alexa caught his sleeve. “Hey, stay alive out there. I haven’t written anything about cops dying, so you should be safe—for now.”
“I’d better not make
you mad then.”
She grinned. “That’s just what I was about to mention.”
Chapter 18
ALEXA AWOKE STIFF—EVERY muscle known to man and a few she decided she’d discovered herself ached. She shifted and tried standing. Though her ankle still felt stiff and uncomfortable, it didn’t truly hurt. Reluctantly, she dragged the crutches to her side and rose, hobbling into the bathroom.
Once the water had a chance to heat the tub, she undressed and slipped her leg into the tub. The water—heavenly. To her dismay, she realized that it was after nine and she expected packages. If she climbed into that tub, she’d never get out again in time to answer the door, and she needed those packages.
Shivering, she finagled her way into her robe and hobbled down to the office. A quick note to the delivery people, signed several times so they could take a signature with them, and she was done. She tacked it onto the front door and hurried, as much as a lame leg will rush, back to the tub.
Nerves, muscles, spirit—all soothed in the hot water. Each minute in the tub relaxed another part of her until she felt sleepy again. The water grew cold until she couldn’t stand it anymore. She pulled the stopper, waited for it to drain, and then pulled the spray nozzle from its shower position and washed her hair.
Dressing took twice as long as usual, despite choosing the simplest thing she could find. Warm, comfortable, softer than butter—the green jersey wasn’t a common choice for a medieval inspired dress, but it was a good one. She slipped on a pair of ballet-style house slippers and smiled, relieved, as they stretched easily over the injured foot.
Once settled into her chair with her laptop on her, well, lap, Alexa called up The Drake’s website, grabbed her phone, and dialed Lorie’s number, praying the girl was home. She still didn’t know if she wanted Lorie to agree to go or not. It sounded like a delightful evening, but if Jeremy and Lorie clashed somehow, it would make for a long and awkward one instead.
“Lorie? Alexa! Is it too early for you?”
Lorie’s voice sounded stronger than she’d ever heard it. After assuring Alexa that she was awake and wrapping presents while waiting for her father to come, the girl told of their plans. “We haven’t had Christmas at Grandma’s in two years.”
“Well, I won’t keep you long. I just have a question. A friend of mine, and his brother, want to escort us to the New Year’s Eve ball. I wondered what you thought about that.”
Lorie sounded excited. “I love blind dates! How do you know them?”
Alexa explained how the suggestion had come about and who Joe and his brother were. “You should know that Joe isn’t my boyfriend. He’s just one of the local officers, so he’s not going to get offended if we say no.”
“So, his brother is going to want to drive or fly all the way up for a dance?”
“No,” she explained, “Joe is from Chicago—family is still there.” Alexa told Lorie how to get to the photo of Jeremy. “If your dad has issues with older guys, he is a freshman at Wheaton—Darrin should know that.”
“Dad won’t care. He’s going to flip when he finds out I have a real live date.”
“Well, better a live one than a dead one.” She laughed and added, “Are you sure he won’t mind you going out with a strange guy?”
Lorie laughed. “With you there? He’ll be thrilled. It bugs him that I’m,”—Lorie’s voice dropped to a deep bass that sounded ridiculous—“‘missing the best years of my life’ or something like that. Trust me. He won’t mind—”
Alexa’s doorbell cut off Lorie’s response. “Sorry, I have to go. See you on Friday, bye!”
Alexa was almost to the door by the time she turned off her phone. Frank, her usual UPS driver, made fussing noises as he carried several boxes into the house. “You couldn’t wait until after Christmas to get hurt, could you?”
“I try to keep you on your toes. Thanks! Have a great Christmas!”
She hobbled to her desk, using a single crutch almost like a cane, and retrieved her scissors. The first package made her pause—her brother. Wes didn’t always wrap before he shipped. If she opened it, she might not have it to open on Christmas. After just another moment’s hesitation, she sliced the tape on the box. The verdict: wrapped—in a lovely red and lime paper that clashed perfectly against her silver and purple packages.
The second box prompted a squeal. Despite what she assumed were the best efforts of weather and UPS to thwart it, her dress had arrived early. Alexa sighed, delighted, as she pulled her gown from the plastic wrapping and layers of tissue. She draped it over the back of the couch and arranged the skirt to help the wrinkles loosen.
The last box did little to excite her. In fact, she would have preferred to ship it back unopened. Inside, without a doubt, would be reminders of the disappointment she was to her family. Her sister’s gift would be a book, CD, or DVD about the evils of worldliness. Despite her sincere intention to try to learn something, if this year was like that of every other year, she would enjoy a good laugh at the absurdly far-fetched conclusions of Jeanne’s new favorite pastor-of the month/year. The initial sting hurt, though. It always hurt.
Her parents’ gift—rather her mother’s choice—always added fresh pain to her heart. Whether they sent reminders of her duty as their daughter to show honor “as unto the Lord,” or as gifts meant to “heap burning coals” on their “prodigal daughter,” the gift always hurt. It was never just a gift. While still in college, she had once been fooled by one that seemed like a peace offering. She’d run home, eager to put the past behind them, but the scene that followed was indelibly etched into her memory—kept in a vault she rarely opened.
Resolute, she grabbed the scissors again and attacked the box. It felt good to slice through the tape and free the packages from the stifling confines of the packing box. The sight of a purple and silver-wrapped package produced the tears she’d hoped to avoid. They’d sent back Wes’ package. This either meant that he wouldn’t make it home for Christmas or that he’d somehow angered them—probably in defense of her—or both.
The other packages she slipped behind the others beneath the tree, hiding the clashing paper, but Wes’ she set next to the one he had sent her. She could pass it on to him after Christmas. He’d love it.
SUZY’S HUSBAND RANG her late that afternoon. As she listened to the story, Alexa groaned. “I’m so sorry, Mike. I wanted to call and warn you, but Chief Varney said he’d have her taken into the station if I did.”
“Well, if he hadn’t said you were fine the minute he introduced himself, I think she would have needed a trip to the ER.”
Alexa sighed. Her friends, almost a thousand miles away, now suffered because of problems in her life. “I’m just so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Alexa. We’re happy to help. We have nothing to hide, and you know that Suzy is gonna have some new prestige at MOPS now. Everyone is buzzing about how your police chief flew all the way down to question her about you.”
“Too bad the Christmas party is over, huh?”
Mike’s laughter prompted her to pull the phone away from her ear. She almost missed his next words. “Well, there’s a reason they hold it in a dry county, now isn’t there? Can you imagine what a story like that would have done after being pickled in alcohol?”
“Oh, hey. Suzanne has a basket ready for me, so I guess we’re off on another amazing adventure to exotic destinations!”
“Peek for me. Where are you going?”
Alexa listened as Mike shuffled through the clues his wife had created for him and their children. A snicker escaped before he said, “Wal-Mart. She has a list of things for the kids’ stockings, and, oh look, a nice hint that hers is very empty—looks like she didn’t buy enough chocolate either.”
“Of course, she didn’t. There’s no such thing as enough chocolate.”
“Gotta go, ‘Lexa. A-shopping I must go. I have a feeling that our credit card bill is going to strangle the checking account this month.”
&nbs
p; “She’s worth it.”
Alexa smiled as Mike’s voice soften as he said, “Without a doubt.”
Suzy snatched the phone and hustled her family out the door, trying to keep up a semi-coherent conversation. “He just wants to send me to the state mental hospital. He knows I need a vacation, but he’s too cheap to spring for a trip to the Bahamas, so off I go to the seventy-two hour psych ward for a little rest, relaxation, and a nice lithium cocktail.” Her friend snickered before adding, “I want a little umbrella in mine.”
“I’ll be sure to tell Nurse Ratchet.”
To Alexa’s relief, she learned that the chief had been a perfect gentleman and had managed to avoid offending her friends. Eager to change the subject, she tried to draw out Suzy’s Christmas plans, but Suzy wanted to hear more about her. At the news of Alexa’s sprained ankle, her friend became indignant.
“What was that woman thinking? After all that you’ve done for them. She asked for that. I remember. It—was—her—idea.”
“I don’t understand it myself, but I’m fine now. I knew the ice was there, and if I hadn’t gotten overly emotional about her immature tirade, it wouldn’t have been an issue.”
“What about next week? Can you dance? Maybe you should stay home tonight.” Before Alexa could reassure her friend that she’d be well, Suzy went off on another tangent. “Hey, what about your packages for the moms? Did you get to deliver them?”
“Judith—”
“Cop Judith?”
“The very one,” Alexa agreed, “took one of the girls from church and they delivered them for me. I think I’ll do something for the officers at the station for Valentine’s Day this year. They’ll all assume it had to do with solving the case—they’d better have it solved by then—and that way I can do something extra nice for Judith.” As she spoke, Alexa scribbled a note to herself about shopping.
“Good idea. I’ll be thinking. It’s the only way I get to shop these days.”
“That’s not what Mike says. He’s convinced that you’re on a mission to max out the card.”