“Understandable,” Dad said. “Where was the trash can kept?”
“In the garage. It’s one of those big carts with wheels that the trash collectors can pick up with their truck fork and empty.”
I sat down beside her. “You’re doing great, kid. Keep going.” She arched an eyebrow and frowned at me. “Oh, sorry. You’re doing great, young person. Keep going.”
That made her chuckle, which I was glad to see, considering how strained she looked trying to keep a rein on her emotions.
She continued, “Mrs. Cobbs, our neighbor, was standing beside her car and she said hello.”
“Was she going somewhere or just coming back?” Dad asked.
“Coming back from church most likely.”
“And so you stopped to talk with her?” he asked.
“Yes, but only for a minute or so. She asked about a strange car parked across the street. Neither of us recognized it.”
“Was the car there when you came home?” I asked.
“I don’t remember seeing it there but I don’t really pay attention to things like that,” Connie answered.
“Describe the car, please,” Dad instructed.
“I’m not good with make and model, but it was blue and kind of sporty looking.”
“Was it a sedan?” I asked, hoping to connect a dot.
“Yeah, I guess so. I mean, it wasn’t a sports car like a Mustang type.”
I jumped up and opened the folder on the desk. I had emailed my cellphone photos to my inbox before I pulled the battery. I pulled up the photo of the guy beside the car and carried the laptop over to Connie.
“Is this the car?” I asked
“Yes. That’s it! Is that him?” she asked, looking up at me with desperate eyes. “Is that the man who killed my parents?”
“That’s the guy who I thought was following us at first.”
“If you thought he was, he probably was,” Dad confirmed. “The old bait and switch to throw you off.”
“Well, it worked,” I confessed.
“Not the way they had planned, I imagine.”
“I wasn’t so lucky the second time. That truck messed up our car pretty bad, Dad.”
I considered myself a seasoned, hardened deputy who had wrestle crackheads to the ground, punched perps in the face, and even hung one guy out a five-story window. Five minutes with my father and suddenly I was daddy’s little girl again.
He shook his head. “I’m glad you were in that car, Hettie. It probably saved your life with its steel frame.”
“You’re right, Dad. Maybe when the case is solved, we can work together to restore it?”
“I’d like that,” he replied.
Dad and I had some of the best talks while working on that car. I learned all about baseball and what men were looking for in a woman. Dad learned all about lesbians. Good times. I nodded and turned back to Connie. She had a smile on her lips.
“Sorry about that. Anyway, do you recognize him?” I asked, pointing at the laptop.
“No. Never saw him before.”
“What about his clothes? Do they look familiar?”
“Not really, but I wasn’t looking at his clothes,” she said. “I was looking at the mask hiding his face. Hettie, what did you mean he was hiding inside?”
“Oh, uh, I think the shooter was in the house when you came home.”
She put her fingers to her gaping lips. “Oh, my God.”
My dad shook his head. “You’re half right, honey. I think that there were two intruders in her house.”
Connie’s eyes rolled back, and she fell to the floor.
“Connie? Connie? I think she fainted, Dad.”
Chapter Ten
Amanda Sanders (Connie Yarbrough-Morrison)
I woke up in that same strange bedroom again. Only this time, it was more comforting than strange. Bubbles was asleep at the end of the bed, and Candace sat beside me, a stethoscope in her hand. She was taking my blood pressure. I turned my head and looked for Hettie, but she wasn’t there. I felt a pang of disappointment as I looked back at Candace.
“What happened?”
She pulled the plugs from her ears and curled the stethoscope in her hand. “Nothing to worry about, honey,” she assured me, removing the cuff from my arm. “Your blood pressure dropped suddenly and you fainted.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
Hettie walked in carrying a glass of ice water. She set it down on the bedside table.
Candace shook her head and looked from me to Hettie. “It’s not your fault that my husband and daughter are unthinking brutes sometimes.”
I could hear the affection in her voice, even as Hettie cringed.
Candace stood and gathered her things. “You can sit up, but if you feel dizzy again, prop your feet up and send Hettie to get me, all right?”
“Yes, ma’am. And thank you.”
She smiled at me and left the room. Hettie sat down where Candace had been sitting. She started to take my hand but patted it instead.
“I’m sorry, Connie. We should have prepared you for our assumptions. And that’s all they are. We don’t have proof that they were inside your house when you came home.”
“But that’s what you think happened, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Given the time allotted, one person couldn’t have made that big a mess while searching for whatever it was your father was hiding.”
“Do you think they found it?” I asked, fearful and hopeful at the same time.
“No. Otherwise, why come after you?” She leaned back and studied me for a moment. “You trust me, don’t you?”
“You know I do,” I replied, feeling a trickle of dread. Why would she ask that?
“And you’re getting along very well with my parents, right?”
“Oh, yes. They’ve been wonderful to me. At first, I thought I would freeze up, you know? But your mother was so kind to me that I felt safe immediately.”
“I am so impressed with you,” she said. “You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.”
I could feel my face flush with embarrassment. I’ve never been good at accepting compliments but I certainly loved receiving them. “Um, thank you. Um, so, what are you really trying to say?”
She exhaled and ran her fingers through her hair. Then she looked back at me. “I’m going back to Virginia, but I want you to stay here.”
“What? No.” A thousand reasons why I didn’t want her to leave without me ran through my mind, but the strongest thought was that I would miss her. “Why are you going back?”
“I’ve sworn to protect you and the only way to do that is to find that evidence your father had. So, I’m going to Roanoke… to your house, and look around.”
“But you said it wasn’t safe. That they would be watching the house.”
“And they probably are, but I’ll wait until it’s dark and then slip in.”
I raised up off the bed too quickly, and it made my head swim. “Oh.”
“Whoa, slow down there, kid,” she said, helping me sit up.
Like her mother, Hettie fussed over me, but unlike her mother, Hettie’s genuine concern warmed me in a different way that I wasn’t expecting.
She took my hand, then, holding it in both of hers. “I know you want to help, and you have, a lot. But you’ve been traumatized by the death of your parents and going back to your house would be too much for you.”
She was right. The panic was already swelling up inside me, just thinking about walking back into that house. I studied her hand as I thought about my next words.
“But… you’re coming back, aren’t you?”
“Yes, of course, I am.” She put her finger under my chin and lifted my head until I met her beautiful brown eyes, soft with sincerity. “The only way you will be able to live without looking over your shoulder the rest of your life is to find what your father had on the bank. I may not find anything, but I have to try.”
‘You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever m
et.’ Her words played again in my head. I didn’t feel very strong, letting her go off to fight my battle for me. It didn’t feel right.
“How long will you be gone?”
“I’m not sure. A few days at least. But you’ll be safe here. Remember, my dad was a cop. Once a cop, always a cop.”
“What happens if you don’t find anything? If the case can’t be solved?”
She stood up and smiled. “Well, I guess you get on with your life. You still have a job and an apartment waiting for you in Fort Smith. I’ll make sure you get there safely.”
“Oh…” I didn’t know what to say. I had an overwhelming feeling of loneliness and isolation. My family, my support system, was gone. My only friend in the world now was…
“Hey, don’t cry. It’s okay,” Hettie said, sitting down beside me again. She ran her finger up my cheek and caught the tear that was falling.
I grabbed her hand as if I were drowning, and in a way, I was. Holding on to it, I wanted to ask her not to go. I wanted to ask her to take me with her. I just wanted the world to stop and let me rest for a moment.
“Listen, you are welcome to stay here just as long as you want. That is, if you can put up with Mom’s overeager hugging.”
“Your mother gives very nice hugs,” I argued, smiling at her sweet attempt to mollify me.
“Another good reason for you to stay as long as you like. You would be giving me a break.”
Laughing, I playfully smacked her on the arm. “You love it and you know it.”
“You think so? Why do you think I live in Virginia?”
I laughed again, and for a moment, I allowed myself to hope. Then reality set in. I couldn’t afford to become attached to Hettie and her parents. It would break my heart when I had to leave. I truly was alone. But if Hettie could solve the case, at least I could move back to Roanoke and my friends at work.
“Hettie…” I hesitated. “Will you do me a favor?”
“You name it,” she replied.
“Will you be careful? I mean really careful.”
She chuckled and said, “Piece of cake.”
“No. I mean it. I’m scared, Hettie. I don’t want anything—”
“Hey,” she said, taking me by the arms. “Nothing will happen, I promise. I’m very good at what I do, so don’t worry, okay?”
I smiled, though it didn’t feel like one. “I’ll try.”
“That’s my girl,” she said, suddenly frowning as if she was surprised by something. “I mean… everything will be all right. Uh, listen, I better go make arrangements. Why don’t you rest? Take a nap if you want, and I’ll see you for dinner, okay?”
A moment later and I was all alone in the room, struggling not to cry. I lost the struggle and cried myself to sleep.
*
I woke from my nap refreshed and just a bit less anxious. I took a shower, dried my hair, dabbed on a bit of makeup and felt almost myself again. Then I walked into the kitchen and saw Candace chopping lettuce on the counter. My heart skipped a beat and began to race. My lungs felt like they had collapsed, and I gasped for air. The flashback was severe. I wasn’t in control of myself. I wasn’t sure how long I had been standing there, staring at Candace, when I felt Hettie put her hands on my shoulders and turn me away.
“Why don’t you come in here and watch TV with Dad and me?” she asked as she guided me out of the kitchen.
Again, I froze in terror. “Is he watching… sports?”
Hettie’s mouth gaped open, and she nodded. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. How about we go outside for a breath of fresh air?”
Relieved, I nodded.
She led me past the dining room and out the back door. The backyard was what I envisioned a Miami backyard to look like. Palm trees stretching high into the sky. Longwood blue shrubs two-toned against evergreen shrubs lined the fence, providing privacy from their neighbors. A modest swimming pool with a diving board. A small patio beside the pool with a round metal table and wicker chairs. Unlit Tiki torches dotted the area and a gas grill stood ready to be fired up.
Hettie offered me a chair, and we sat down beside the pool. “It’s been pretty warm the last couple of days, so feel free to use the swimming pool if you want. Well, you probably shouldn’t go swimming until your leg is better, but you could relax by the pool and soak up some sun.”
“Thank you, but I don’t have a swimsuit, and I don’t think you want me going to the store to get one.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, sorry. You’re right. Best to stay close to home for a while. But you could borrow my trunks and a T-shirt. I usually come home on vacation, so I keep some clothes in the spare bedroom that you’re using. Help yourself.”
“That does sound good,” I told her. But I had no intention of laying around like some celebrity while everyone else was working hard to keep me safe. “So, um, when are you leaving?”
Her hair was covering her face again, and she frowned as she pushed it back. “First thing in the morning. Listen, don’t call Krauss or anyone at division until we find the mole. And if you need to call me, use the burner phone I left in your room while you were napping, okay?”
“Okay. But you’ll call me if you find something, won’t you?”
“Absolutely,” she assured me as she stood up. “Right now, though, I’m going to take a pair of scissors to this hair of mine.”
“I’ll be happy to cut it for you,” I offered. “I was a hairdresser while I was in college.”
“That explains why you always had the perfect hair in class.”
Blushing, I lowered my head, unable to think of what to say. “Um…” I probably should have just thanked her, but it just seemed so egotistical. “So, is that a yes?”
“Yeah, sure. I’d appreciate it.”
“Good. If you would get me a sharp pair of scissors, a glass of water, and a comb, I can cut your hair out here. We don’t want to make a mess in your mom’s house.”
“She wouldn’t mind but out here is fine, too. I’ll be right back.”
I had just positioned one of the chairs on the grass when Hettie returned with the scissors, water, and comb. “Wow, that was fast,” I said, chuckling. “Someone’s eager for a haircut.”
She looked at me with pensive eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well, I don’t want to bring up sad memories. You know, if this was something you did for Meredith.”
That is so thoughtful! “Thank you, but don’t worry. Meredith watched me cut hair once and after that would never let me come near her with a pair of scissors.”
“Oh, uh… maybe…” She looked unsure and just the tiniest bit scared.
“You’re not afraid, are you, Deputy?” I teased, feeling just a bit guilty.
“No. I trust you completely,” she replied, settling into the chair and handing me the scissors. “Uh, nothing too drastic, okay? Maybe just a trim.”
I splayed my fingers across her head and forced it down. I snipped the scissors a time or two, and said, “Okay, Mohawk it is, then.”
She jerked her head up. “What? No. You’re kidding, right?”
I pushed her head back down. “Yes, I’m kidding. You’re very gullible for a U.S. Marshal.”
“Only around certain people in my backyard.”
I hesitated, my hand frozen in mid cut. She must have felt my uncertainty because she turned her head to look at me. “Sit still,” I demanded, turning her head back. “You don’t want me to snip your ear, do you?”
“No, ma’am. I don’t believe that I do.”
Dipping the comb into the water, I began to comb it through her thick, unkempt hair, dividing it into sections.
“How short would you like it?” I asked, taking her hair between my fingers, surprised at how silky soft it was considering her split ends she had. I had a feeling she hadn’t had her hair cut in a while.
“Short, so I don’t have to do anything but wash it and go.”
That sounded so familiar. I hadn’t been completely honest when I said Meredith wouldn’t let me cut her hair. I cut it quite regularly until we both became too busy and it was easier for her to go to the hair salon. There was a twinge of sadness as I clipped a strand of Hettie’s hair, but there were also fond memories that I had forgotten.
Once I had finished cutting her hair, I ran both hands through it, fluffing it to give it some body. Then I brushed my fingers over her back to remove any stray hairs. My hands lingered on her shoulders, hard with muscles that flexed under my touch. Solid. Strong. Arousing. “Oh.” Wait. What? “Um, okay, all done.”
She turned and looked at me, a question on her lips.
“Dinner time, girls,” Candace called from the back door. She looked at us for a moment and then went back inside.
“I should probably go help her do something,” Hettie muttered, running her fingers through her hair.
“Yeah, um, me, too,” I stuttered, gathering up the glass and scissors.
“Thanks for the haircut. It feels much better now,” she said, as we walked back to the house.
“You’re very welcome,” I replied somewhat awkwardly, still feeling that rush of arousal in the pit of my stomach.
No, no, no. Absolutely not. I began listing in my head every reason why I should ignore those feelings. When it came right down to it, the only reason that meant anything was the fact that I loved Meredith and I wouldn’t betray that love for a one night stand. And that’s all it would be with Hettie. An intense, pulsating, convulsive night of passion that… Wait. What? Oh, no.
Chapter Eleven
U.S. Marshal Hettie Quinn
It’s just hormones, don’t let them take control. Last night, I sat across from Connie at the dinner table, stealing a glance every chance I got. I guess I was hoping for some sign that she was interested. At the same time, I was berating myself because I knew it wasn’t going to happen. Cardinal rule number one, never become emotionally involved with your protectee. Rule number two, don’t even think about becoming involved with a widow. Those rules were based on years of horrible outcomes for the unlucky saps who broke them. I was one of those unlucky saps. I was young and impetuous at the time and I thought I was falling in love with a widow. She thought I looked like her dead lover. The whole affair got messy. Never again.
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