Skellyman

by Rie Sheridan Rose

  Chapter 8

  Brenda paced the kitchen, running her hands through her close-cropped hair, and leaving disarrayed spikes in their wake. Despite the fact that she’d cleared away the mess, there was a strong odor of spilled rum emanating from the bills laid out on the floor in the corner to dry. What a great first impression that gives.

  The stranger sat at the kitchen table, solid as concrete in his khaki uniform, and rewound the answering machine tape with the impossible messages on it.

  A stranger! In my house. Sitting in Ethan’s chair as calmly as if he belongs there.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Barnett—”

  “Mrs.”

  “Excuse me?” A dark eyebrow rose quizzically.

  “It’s Mrs. I’m a widow.”

  “Sorry for your loss.” The phrase was automatic, something a mother had ingrained in him as polite, no doubt. “I still don’t know if there’s anything I can do for you, Mrs. Barnett.”

  The slight emphasis struck her as mocking, and she wanted to slap this complacent man who didn’t understand her. This man sitting here in her house looking at her as if she were crazy…even if he was kind of cute.

  “Someone is harassing me. Isn’t that illegal?”

  “But there’s nothing overtly threatening in either of these phone calls.”

  “Look, Officer—” She groped for the policeman’s name, but if he had offered it, it escaped her.

  “Sanchez. Phillip Sanchez.”

  “Look, Officer Sanchez, I’ve told you. My husband and son were killed in a car accident last December. Someone is impersonating them on that tape. My daughter saw someone standing outside her bedroom window. There are footprints in the flowerbed. She was terrified. She’s only four.”

  Sanchez spread his hands in a placating gesture. “I know you’re upset, ma’am, but my options are limited. There’s no evidence of a crime here. Unless you have posted signs against entry, or specifically told an interloper to stay away from your residence, there’s no case for trespass. The windows show no sign of tampering.

  “It could just have been a curious stranger cutting through the backyard, or a neighbor who mistook your house for their own. And while these calls are in bad taste, unless there’s an overt statement of threat—”

  “Mama…Maggie wants to sleep with you tonight…” Daisy’s voice was tentative and breathless…not at all her usual imperious tone.

  Brenda spun at the interruption. Daisy looked like a greeting card cherub with her tousled gold curls and little bare feet. Her fingers were in her mouth, a habit she had outgrown over a year ago. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears, and Maggie hung by her neck from the crook of one arm. The child absolutely typified fragile innocence. Brenda’s breath caught in her throat.

  “You see how this is affecting Daisy, Officer Sanchez? She’s scared half to death.”

  Sanchez knelt before his chair and held out his hand to Daisy. “Hi, Daisy. I’m Phillip. Pleased to meet you.”

  Daisy stuck out damp fingers and took his hand. “My name is Daisy Melissa Barnett, and I live at 105 Pine Street. Are you a real policeman?”

  Brenda winced. Maybe we should have a little talk about the order one reveals information.

  It was a good thing Sanchez really was a policeman. If Daisy met a stranger on the street and told him her address so readily there might be serious trouble.

  “That was very good, Miss Daisy. If you were lost, that’s just what you tell a policeman. But what should you do differently?”

  Daisy’s fingers went back in her mouth as she thought over the question, head cocked as if listening to something. “I should ask for proof if you are a real policeman so you won’t follow me home if I tell you where I live.” The phrasing seemed formal for Daisy. “To make sure I’m not telling a bad man my address.” That was more natural.

  Sanchez nodded his dark head. “And how will you know it’s safe to ask me for help in the first place?”

  “The uniform?”

  “Right. What is proof I’m a real policeman?”

  She thought. “A badge, like on TV?”

  Chuckling, Sanchez pointed to his badge. “Not quite like on TV, but that’s the right answer. A real policeman will always have his or her badge with them.”

  He drew her attention to various features on the face of the badge. “It should have a number right here, and this little picture here, and the name of the police precinct here. If someone shows you a badge without one of those things, you run away. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  Daisy nodded solemnly. “My daddy told me that. He’s dead though.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” the policeman replied, and this time, Brenda sensed real emotion behind the words.

  She scooped Daisy into her arms. “Well, it’s time for you to get back to bed, little lady. You have school tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want to go back to bed, Mama. I want to sleep with you.” There was a ragged edge to Daisy’s voice, and the blue eyes were beginning to fill again.

  Sanchez rose to his feet. “I’ll let you get her off to bed, ma’am. Tell you what. This house is in my patrol area. I’ll make a point to swing by as often as I can. The added presence usually deters most casual Peeping Toms. And I’ll be able to respond quickly if there’s any more trouble tonight.”

  “Thank you, Officer. I’m sure you’ll do your best.”

  “Would you like me to call in from time to time and check on you?”

  “That would be much appreciated,” Brenda replied, feeling a weight lift from her mind even as she shifted Daisy in her arms. The child was getting heavier. Soon she would be too big to carry anymore.

  The policeman glanced at his notebook and then at Brenda. His eyes were the most gorgeous brown…

  Brenda gave herself a mental slap. You have no business looking at another man’s eyes, young lady!

  That was the rub…she was still relatively young, and Phillip Sanchez was definitely an attractive man. But even if she was no longer attached, it was hardly the time to practice picking up men, though Sanchez was imminently comforting with those liquid caramel eyes and that dazzling smile—

  —What is wrong with me?

  She was not behaving like the mother of a frightened four-year-old. She was acting like a moonstruck teenager. She’d only just met the man for God’s sake, and it wasn’t a social occasion. She had no business noticing how well his uniform showed off his lean, muscular frame.

  “I believe I have all the information I need, Mrs. Barnett. I’ll check in with you in an hour or so, and then we can decide if you need me to continue calling all night. That can be really hard on you when you want to get some sleep, but some people find it comforting.”

  “Yes, thank you. That would be very comforting—to us both.”

  “Well, I’ll let you get the little one to bed. Don’t worry. I’ll be watching out for you.” He flashed her a grin, and then he was gone.

  Brenda fastened the chain across the front door, threw the deadbolt, and then leaned against the barricade for a moment, dazed by her reaction to Sanchez. She definitely needed to get out more.

  Daisy stirred in her arms, and suddenly her weight seemed to double. Yes, it wasn’t going to be long before Daisy graduated from the “pick me up and carry me” class.

  Adjusting her grip on the sleeping child, Brenda carried Daisy into the master bedroom and laid her on Ethan’s side of the king-size bed. It was more bed than Brenda needed any more, but something stopped her from getting rid of it…just as Robbie’s baseball uniform still hung in his closet waiting for game day. She kept telling herself she needed to go through things and donate what was usable to charity, but she still hadn’t managed to bring herself to do it.

  Brenda tucked the covers around Daisy and drew herself a hot bath. It’d been a very stressful day. A capful of her favorite bubble bath perfumed the steamy air of the room with vanilla and roses. Ethan had always teased her about her Victorian tastes.<
br />
  Easing into the warm water was like sinking into her own private spa, and she closed her eyes, imagining she was in some tropical paradise with cabana boys waiting to hand her a glass of something cool and fruity.

  I’m here under the protection of Don Carlos Mendoza, the fiery Spaniard who owns all the coffee plantations for two hundred miles. I am his personal companion, and he dresses me in diamonds and little else…

  Brenda giggled at the fantasy. She’d have to remember this one. Maybe she should write one of those steamy romances her mother always hid under the sofa cushions when someone came into the room.

  It felt good to be silly for a change. Ethan will never let me live this one down…

  The mood shattered into a million soap bubbles as the aching loss in her heart once more jarred her into reality. She sighed and rinsed off both the virtual and physical bubbles.

  Slipping into the T-shirt and panties she slept in, she crawled into bed next to Daisy and picked up the book she’d been trying to read for the last several weeks. Sanchez struck her as a man of his word, so there was no point in trying to sleep until he made his check-in call.

  One call was probably enough, though. She’d overreacted to Daisy’s distress. Those footprints could have been there for ages. She would tell Sanchez he didn’t need to check in again.

  We’re both big girls now. We can take care of ourselves.

  She gazed over at Daisy fondly. The girl lay sprawled on her back, one chubby fist tucked under her cheek. Her face was lightly flushed, and her eyes moved beneath their lids.

  Wonder what she’s dreaming about, Brenda thought to herself. Hopefully princesses and pizza.

  Negating that hope, Daisy began to mutter in a guttural voice, “Down to the bone-yard…that’s where we sleep. Cradled in a coffin…six feet deep.”

  Brenda felt ice shoot through her veins. Why is Daisy suddenly so fixated on death? Maybe it’s merely a delayed reaction to the accident? It’s started only recently…

  The shrill of the phone beside the bed jolted her attention away from Daisy. She snatched it up. “I’m so glad you called, I—”

  “—almost home, Brenda. Can’t wait to see you again. To touch you, to hold you, to fu—” She slammed the receiver into the cradle, burying her face in her hands.

  The phone rang again. She stared at it a moment, as if it were a poisonous snake, and then reached down and yanked the cord from the wall.

  Breasts heaving, she clutched the jack cord in her hand.

  The phone rang again.

  Chapter 9

  It took her a moment to register that the ringing phone was not the landline, but her cell. A wave of relief washed over her. A call at this hour might be bad form, but at least it wasn’t coming over a dead line.

  She picked up the cell phone from the bedside table and punched the button. “Hello?”

  “Are you all right, Mrs. Barnett?” Sanchez’s voice held an edge of concern that she found extremely comforting. “I tried to call your main line, but I got a busy signal.”

  Taking a deep breath, she told him about the latest call. “I guess I overreacted by pulling the cord out of the wall, but it really spooked me…”

  There was a long pause from his end of the line. Finally, he spoke. “That still isn’t an overt threat, particularly if you cut him off, but it does sound like the situation’s escalating. I don’t like the feel of this.”

  “Does that mean you’ll do something?”

  “My hands are pretty well tied on this, ma’am. There are very specific procedures in place. Our force is also stretched pretty thin, especially at this time of year. All I’m authorized to do in a case like yours is what I’m doing—and, to be honest, I’m stretching the tether a bit already.”

  Another pause. “Can I give you a bit of advice?”

  “I’m open to suggestions, officer.”

  “Go to your local pet store and get yourself a dog. A barking dog has been known to deter all number of potential intruders.”

  Brenda shook her head, and then realized he couldn’t see the gesture. “I don’t think so, Officer Sanchez. I have a small child, and a guard dog—”

  “It doesn’t have to be your typical guard dog like a Shepherd or a Doberman, ma’am. A yappy Chihuahua or Pomeranian works just as effectively as a deterrent and, besides, it would give Daisy something alive to play with. Teach her responsibility to care for an animal. A win-win situation.”

  Put that way, the idea did seem like a sound one. She could take Daisy with her to pick out the creature after school. She did agree that pets could add a lot to a child’s life. She’d just always been a cat person herself—despite the fact that her mother’s allergies had never let her have one of her own as a child.

  “Good advice, officer. I’ll see about it tomorrow.”

  “All right then. Do you want me to call again tonight?”

  She thought about it. There was something so reassuringly male about his voice.

  No, Brenda! Pull yourself together. This is a police officer, and he has more important things to do than hold your hand.

  “No…no, I should be fine. I’m going to turn off the cell and try to get some sleep.”

  “I’ll check in with you tomorrow then.”

  The thought sent a flush of warmth through her. She mentally scolded herself again—this is not a boy from school calling to chat you up. This is a policeman doing his job, she reiterated to her hormones. She had to keep drumming that into her brain. “I’d like that.”

  “You get some rest now.”

  Was she imagining the concern in his tone? She must be…

  “Thank you, Officer Sanchez. You too.”

  She broke the connection and then powered off the phone. The world would just have to get by without contacting her for the rest of the night.

  Daisy shifted in her sleep. “You missed the princess movie, Robbie…but there was kissing…”

  Brenda felt a pang of grief. Daisy misses her big brother so. Perhaps a dog is just what she needs. Something to love that can love her back. Maggie tries, but she’s just a stuffed bear.

  Grinning at her own foolishness, Brenda switched off the light and lay back amongst the pillows. God knows she could use something to love…

  Brenda lay in the darkness and thought about that statement. Sometimes she woke up in the middle of the night aching with need. She and Ethan had always shared a healthy appetite for sex, and she had to admit she missed the physical intimacy almost as much as Ethan’s laughing face. They had met in her first year of college and married a few weeks later—a real whirlwind courtship, but it had felt so right. Ethan was so charming…

  She’d been a virgin on her wedding night, and Robbie was born less than a year later. Her entire sexual being had been wrapped up in Ethan Barnett, and now she wasn’t sure what to do with herself.

  “Is it cold in the bone-yard?” Daisy murmured in her dream.

  Or what to do about Daisy’s new fascination with bones.

  Chapter 10

  Robbie stood in the door of the bedroom, peeking in at the sleeping figures. How he missed them.

  There was a stir on the bed, and Daisy blinked up at him drowsily. Her eyes widened, and she popped up like a jack-in-the-box. She opened her mouth to call out, and he put his finger to his lips instantly. She obeyed without question.

  He beckoned to her, and she slid out of bed, tiptoeing over to him.

  “You’re back!” she whispered excitedly.

  “Shhh…come with me,” he answered.

  Daisy nodded, and they slipped down the hall to the kitchen. “Let’s make Mom some breakfast,” he said softly.

  “Cool!” she squealed, immediately clapping her hands over her mouth.

  “We have to be quiet, or she’ll catch us before we’re done. Understand?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He waved his hand over her head, as if ruffling her hair, and she pulled her head away.

  “That ti
ckles, like the wind,” she said, wrinkling her nose in an unconscious imitation of her mother.

  “Sorry. It’s hard to concentrate sometimes.” He made an effort and looked down at his hands. They solidified.

  “What are we going to make?” Daisy asked, dragging the step-stool over to the counter.

  “How about pancakes?” he replied. It was one of the few recipes he’d ever learned.

  He remembered the first time he made them for his mom. He’d been older than Daisy, but since he was here to help her, it should be okay.

  “That sounds perfect!”

  “Okay. You get the eggs and milk out of the fridge. I’ll get the skillet.”

  She nodded, yanking open the refrigerator and pulling out the things he asked for. She carried them over to the counter and climbed on the stool, pulling the canister of flour forward.

  “Can you hand me a bowl, Robbie?”

  He was concentrating with all his might to move the skillet to the stove, but when that was done, he lifted down the bowl she asked for. It was getting easier to be solid…but he still couldn’t do it for very long.

  The lid to the flour canister stuck, and when he finally managed to jerk it loose for Daisy, flour puffed up to settle all over the counter and floor. He looked down at the little girl with a grimace. “We’ll have a lot of cleaning up to do,” he whispered.

  “Uh-huh,” she agreed, head bobbing.

  They grinned at each other.

  He told her how much milk to pour into the measuring cup, and she very carefully did so, tongue between her teeth. He couldn’t remember exactly how many eggs were called for, so they broke six into the mixing bowl and added the milk and flour.

  Daisy was doing most of the work. He was finding it harder and harder to maintain any kind of solidity.

  She poured some of the batter into the skillet. “Is that enough?”

  He looked down at it, head cocked in thought. “That should do to start,” he answered. Putting his hands down on the counter to boost himself up, he started to reach for the syrup.

  “Can you hold this a minute?” Daisy asked, thrusting a plate at him.