by Lisa Bork
Noelle sucked the bottle dry. Ray set it on the coffee table and lifted her to his shoulder, patting her back softly.
The phone rang again. “Ray, this is Jeff. We just got a call from Cindy Barber at Channel Eleven News. She knows you and Jolene are the foster parents for Heather Graus and Theodore Tibble’s daughter. She wants to interview you regarding Miss Graus’ arrest and the status of your custody. I’ve got her number if you want to call her back. Marcia and I didn’t tell her anything. Talk to ya later, buddy.”
And so it begins. Good thing our phone number was unlisted. The press would have to search a little longer for our number and address, but sooner or later, one of the town bigmouths would let it slip.
“Dammit.” Ray stood and started pacing the floor with Noelle still on his shoulder.
I watched him with tears brimming in my eyes. We would need a miracle to retain custody of Noelle now. Wordlessly, I held out my arms.
Ray bent and placed Noelle in my lap. She smelled like No More Tears and formula, two of the sweetest smells ever.
Ray sat close by my side and encircled both of us with his arms. The hot tears began to roll down my cheeks, dropping from my chin onto Noelle’s chest. Soon her shirt was splotched. She didn’t seem to mind. She just looked from Ray’s face to mine in wonder.
Ray squeezed us tight, then let go. “I have to go to work. I need to talk to the racetrack and Barclay again. This needs to end now.”
He walked out of the living room. I could hear him rustling in the kitchen cabinet high over the refrigerator, the one I never used because I was way too short to reach it.
He reappeared holding a pistol. “Do you remember how to use this?”
I did. Ray made me go to the shooting range with him just once, so I knew how all the guns in our home worked. But I didn’t like the guns or shooting, so he’d put this gun away and never mentioned it again.
“It’s loaded. It doesn’t have a safety.” He opened the end table drawer and slid the pistol inside.
Would the true test of my love for Noelle end up being my ability to kill to protect her? I certainly hoped not, but at the moment the gun gave me the feeling of security that I craved, however false that feeling might be.
Ray stared at me until I acknowledged his order with a slight nod. “All right. I’m going to talk to the sheriff about pulling out all the stops, including putting the pressure on the guys in the next county. Someone knows more about Theo and Heather than they’re telling. We need to find them fast.”
He leaned down to kiss my lips, then Noelle’s forehead. “I love you.”
More tears spilled down my cheeks. “I love you, too.”
He stood for a second, looking at us. I waited for him to say everything was going to be all right.
He turned and walked out the front door.
____
Noelle went down for the night around eight. I sat on the couch and stared at the television, appreciating the noise it made but not deciphering any of its messages. Eventually the strain and heat overcame me, and I felt myself dozing off.
A pounding on the door awakened me with a start. The mantel clock read ten-twenty. The pounding continued, increasing in volume.
I stood, took two steps toward the door, then three steps back toward the drawer holding the gun. I dreaded picking it up. Maybe a quick peek out the window to identify my visitor first?
I headed toward the front door again, but this time the pounding grew frantic. Maybe taking the pistol in hand would be best.
As my fingers pulled the drawer open, I heard Erica. “Jesus, Jolene. I can hear you moving around in there. Are you going to let me in or what?”
Relief washed over me.
I opened the door to find Erica standing on the porch, still dressed in her waitress uniform, necktie askew.
“Can I come in?” She peered over my head into the living room. “What? You gotta guy in here?”
“Of course not.” I stood aside and she breezed past me. “What’s going on?”
She stopped just inside the door. “You are not going to freakin’ believe this. I worked a short shift tonight, and when I got home, my apartment was trashed. Everything is ruined. Someone took a knife to the couch and chair cushions. Stuffing is everywhere. All my dishes are smashed in the kitchen. And all my perfumes and soap bottles were poured over my clothes. It’s a mess. I’m too tired to clean it up tonight. Can I sleep here?”
“Sure.” I took my seat on the couch again as she flopped into the wingback chair and plopped her feet on the ottoman. “Did you call the police?”
“I called that idiot they appointed police chief. He said he had another call that took precedence and he’d be over in the morning since I wasn’t staying there tonight.” Erica snorted. “He’s totally useless.”
The village of Wachobe, as opposed to the township, employed the police chief. The office’s main duties consisted of writing parking tickets and emptying parking meters. The village hadn’t received a ton of applicants. They had to pick the best of the runt litter. “When Ray gets home, maybe he can go over and take a look around. How did they get in?”
“Broke the window on the back door and turned the lock. The glass is all over the kitchen.”
“Did you notice anything missing?”
“No. It looks like they just wanted to trash the place. I’d suspected Sam, but then I heard his parents took him to Bermuda for a few days. They wanted to celebrate the first five hundred dollars he made as a sailing instructor.”
I supposed for a boy who rarely worked a day in his life that was a lot of money. “Is there anyone else you’ve had a spat with lately?” Erica had had a few scratching and clawing fights in the past, mainly with jealous girlfriends who didn’t like her hitting on their dates.
Erica made a face. “No, Jolene. I’m acclimated to society again, remember?”
The word “Ha” almost escaped from my lips, but maybe my mother’s ghost slapped her hand over it. It was about time she helped me with something. “What about your new boyfriend, Liam? He’s not married, is he? Does he have a wife who might not be happy with you?” It wouldn’t be the first time.
“He says not. He doesn’t wear a ring, and he never worries about getting home at night. Besides, he doesn’t know where I live. I always meet him at work.”
“He could look you up in the phone book, couldn’t he?”
Erica rolled her eyes. “No, Jo. You’re still listed in the phone book at my address. You still get all the bills, remember?”
I should have, shouldn’t I? But one check on bill-paying day blurred right into the next. My stomach sank as a new suspicion crossed my mind. “Did you put a new sticker on the mailbox?”
“No, it still says Asdale/Parker.”
I mulled over that fact. Ray and I kept this address and phone number private, because he worked for the sheriff’s office. Only a few friends and relatives and, of course, the sheriff’s office, knew our number here. Anyone who looked in the phone book or on the Internet would think we lived at Erica’s address. Had all the vandalism at her apartment really been targeted for us? Was it just another scare tactic like the shots fired at Marcia and Jeff’s house? I should call Ray and find out if Dave Barclay was still in custody. Of course, he could have hired someone to do his dirty work for him, even before he was taken in for questioning today.
Erica’s roaming gaze fell on the open drawer and the pistol. “What is that?”
I jumped to my feet and shoved the drawer closed. “Ray left it for me. He had to go into work and didn’t want Noelle and me home alone and unprotected.”
“Do you know how to use it?”
“It’s a point and squeeze, Erica, but I won’t need it.”
She rose and followed me into the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar while I heated some water for tea. “So what’s the latest on Heather and Noelle?”
“Did you see the news tonight?”
“No. The bar had the spo
rts channel on.”
“The press knows Noelle is Heather and Theo’s child, and that we’re the foster parents. They know Noelle was in danger. They announced that Heather’s father and sister spoke to the Department of Social Services today about getting custody of Noelle.”
Erica slammed her hand on the kitchen counter. “Well, they won’t get it. You and Ray are model citizens and parents.”
“I wish.” I filled her in on the shots fired at Marcia’s home and our failure to report them to Social Services. “They may not be too happy with us right now.”
I fixed two cups of orange spice tea and placed one in front of Erica, then climbed onto the stool next to her. “And now I’m thinking maybe all the action at your apartment was targeted at us, too, since my name is still listed in the phone book and on the mailbox. Social Services will say that we’re no longer able to provide a safe, stable environment for Noelle, and I’m afraid they may be right. We won’t have much of an argument if Social Services decides it’s in Noelle’s best interests to place her with her aunt and grandfather.”
“Didn’t you find anything about Theo and Heather?”
I sipped my tea. “We did. We found out Heather won a few karaoke contests. Did you know that?”
Erica shook her head. “Nope. Didn’t know she could sing.”
“And we found out they were placing bets against the odds at the racetrack and winning. It looks like Dave Barclay was throwing horse races and probably sharing the profits with Theo and Heather.”
“Uh huh.” Erica avoided my gaze.
“You knew about that.”
She chewed on a fingernail. “I knew something was up with Barclay. He called Theo’s cell phone once while we were at the casino last year. I was surprised they knew each other.”
“Surprised Theo knew him, or surprised Heather did?”
“Heather? I don’t think she really knew him, just through Theo; that’s all.”
“Are you sure? Ray and I thought they might have had a prior sexual relationship.”
Erica’s blond curls flew as she shook her head. “No way. Theo and Heather really loved each other. I don’t think he would have been so into her if Barclay had been in the picture that way.”
“I don’t know. Maybe Heather was part of the plan. Maybe she was supposed to keep Theo happy and tied to Barclay.”
Erica shook her head more adamantly. “NO WAY. I know true love when I see it.”
With her dating history, I couldn’t help but laugh. “When have you seen it?”
Erica smiled with smug satisfaction. “Whenever Ray looks at you.”
I called Ray to tell him about the break-in at Erica’s apartment. His cell phone went directly to voicemail. I called the operator at the sheriff’s office. Ray was in conference and couldn’t be disturbed. I didn’t recognize the voice on the other end of the line who told me this, so I didn’t press. I just called his cell again and left a voicemail asking for him to call me when he got a chance.
Erica’s cell phone rang as I hung up from my call. I could tell from her excited expression that Liam was her caller.
“You did? I worked the short shift tonight since the bar was slow. I’m over at Jolene’s, hanging out, because someone broke into my apartment and trashed it while I was at work. It’s a mess. I can’t stay there tonight.”
She listened for a moment. “I live on Wells Street. In a first-floor apartment.”
Listening again, she looked at me with concern. “I’m not sure. Hold on.” She pressed the phone to her chest. “Liam wants to go bar-hopping. I probably won’t be able to sleep anyway, but I don’t want to leave you alone, if you and Noelle need me.”
I waved her off. “Go ahead. Have fun.”
She frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Why don’t you have him pick you up here so I can get a look at him?” I smiled and wiggled my eyebrows.
She grinned as though my interest made him all the more appealing—a tactical error on my part. “Liam? Would you mind picking me up at Jolene’s? She’d like to meet you.”
Erica rolled her eyes. “No, Ray isn’t home. He’s at work. He doesn’t really act like my dad anyway. I just say that.”
Liam must have agreed to pick her up, because Erica proceeded to give him directions to our street. Then she disconnected and headed into my closet again to see what she could find to wear.
She appeared five minutes later in an old but still very hot pink T-shirt dress. She’d wrapped a black silk scarf around her waist as a belt and tied her hair in a ponytail using a black velvet ribbon belt from another one of my old dresses. First, I had to applaud her ability to mix-and-match. Second, I had to admit, in the same outfit, I would have looked ridiculous. Erica looked fabulous. Her feet, however, were bare.
“You look great, but no shoes, no service, you know.”
“I have a pair of flip-flops in the car. I’ll get them when we leave.” She peered out the front window, impatient for Liam to arrive.
I watched her, pleased to see her excitement. A twinge of jealousy coursed through me, too. The excitement of a new love was intoxicating, and I’d only felt it with Ray. True, I’d gotten a prince, but it might have been nice to experience the thrill of a new love more than once.
Shame on me for thinking that way! Ray was like an Academy Award, timeless, respected, and coveted. Liam was probably more like the kind of cheap plastic prize the carnival sharks pull out from under the counter, just like all the rest of Erica’s choices. I tried to remember what she’d told me about him. Not much, but then I hadn’t really had time to ask her either. “So what does this Liam do?”
She didn’t take her gaze off the street. “He’s in sales.”
“What does he sell?”
“Frozen food like hamburgers, chicken patties, french fries.”
“Who does he sell to?”
Erica let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know. Places like water parks, ski resorts, and carnivals. You know, places that sell crappy food.”
The carnival connection. I knew it. I’d become psychic.
Since my questions were clearly irritating my sister, I went into the kitchen to put our teacups into the dishwasher and wipe down the counter. Plus, I thought it would be nice to give her a minute alone to greet him at the door. I wasn’t really interested in watching them suck face, as Erica was known literally to do.
Funny, water parks and ski resorts. Wachobe had neither. So what brought Liam to our town to do his drinking?
I called out to Erica “Does Liam live in Wachobe?”
“No.”
“So where does he live?”
Silence. Dear God, had she not even thought to ask him? Why did I think this relationship was doomed?
Would Liam know Abigail Bryce’s stepfather? He worked in food services, and Mrs. Bryce said her husband worked at the water park in the summer and the ski resort in the winter. He had to work at the ski resort south of Canandaigua. It was the only one within a reasonable commuting distance.
It was also the ski resort where Heather won the karaoke contest over a year ago. Liam might know her, too. Such a coincidence.
I stopped in the middle of the kitchen floor. Too much of a coincidence. What did Ray always say? It’s always best to stick as close to the truth as possible when making up a lie.
The sponge slipped out of my hand, dropping to the floor. I bent to retrieve it, trying to quell my growing nausea.
A discreet knock sounded at the front door. I heard Erica open the door and the sounds of passionate kissing. My hand reached for the phone and hovered over it. Was I jumping to all the wrong conclusions? Dave Barclay or his wife had been responsible for Theo’s death, hadn’t they?
I heard footsteps on the floor and a familiar jingling sound, like the sound of keys.
Theo Tibble’s bloody neck and glazed eyes flashed before me. Heather’s fearful and frozen gaze. I’d heard it that day at the racetrack. I’d heard i
t move away before I screamed for help. And I’d heard it once before, at the—
“Hello, Jolene.”
My hand seized the phone. I tried to lift it, but my fingers were still wet from the sponge. The phone slipped out of my hand and crashed to the floor. The battery fell out and skittered across the floor.
Dressed in a long-sleeve white dress shirt and jeans, key chain hanging silent now at his side, Abigail Bryce’s stepfather stood two paces behind Erica, who frowned at the phone on the floor, completely unaware of who she’d brought into my home. “Jo, this is Liam. Liam Bennett.” She grabbed his forearm.
He winced and jerked it away.
“Actually, Erica, it’s William. William Bryce,” I said.
Confusion flashed across Erica’s face before she turned to face him. “What?”
I took a few steps and grabbed her dress, pulling her back against me and positioning the breakfast bar between us and Bryce. “William Bryce, Erica. Abigail Bryce’s stepfather. And the man who killed Theo Tibble.”
He flashed his teeth again. His canines were particularly long, suitable for the wolf he was. “I didn’t kill Theo. Heather did. She even admits it.”
I felt sweat dampen my shirt even though I’d started to tremble. “Only because you threatened her.”
He feigned shock. “No one threatened her, although I understand her baby … or is it your baby? … was threatened.” He shook his head in mock dismay. “Shocking.” He glanced around the room. “Where is the little princess, now? Sleeping?”
Sweat rolled off my brow and burned my eyes. I edged toward the knife rack on my kitchen counter.
“No, no, Jolene.” Bryce pulled a pistol from his pocket, not as big as Ray’s spare but just as intimidating. “Let’s go sit in the living room, shall we?”
My heart felt like it would explode out of my chest. Teeth clenched, I held Erica’s hand and led her to the couch. Her hand felt cold to my touch. She’d begun to shake uncontrollably. Big tears rolled down her face.