The Scrimshaw Set: Books 1 & 2

by Gayle Hayes

  This would be her life, then. She disliked her work more by the day and then walked into an empty apartment at night. There was a time when she'd been glad other women fought for this choice. What woman wouldn't rather dress well, enjoy the company of stimulating people in an office, and be free to see a variety of men in the evening? She'd pitied the women who had no choice except to marry, stay at home with their children, and be bored with a husband who took them for granted. Emma sighed, tossed her briefcase and handbag on the counter, and headed for the shower. She'd left her phone in her handbag and did not hear it ring when Eric called.

  Eric had important news for Emma and did not want to tell her in a message. Emma checked her phone before retiring for the night. She noticed there was a missed call from Eric but no message. She turned off the phone, set it on the small chest next to her bed, and slipped under the covers. She was sure Eric would leave a message unless the news was bad. She'd be able to handle it tomorrow. She was in no mood to hear him say he and Marci were in a relationship tonight.

  Wednesday evening Emma was doing laundry and almost missed hearing the phone. She'd not heard from Eric and hoped it was him. She raced to answer before he hung up. She was catching her breath.

  "Hell-o."

  "Emma. It's Eric. I've tried to call several times. How are you?"

  "Doing well. It's good to hear from you."

  "I'm sorry I missed your call Monday. I was in the middle of painting and couldn't leave it," Eric said.

  Emma transferred the phone to her left hand and reset the dryer to the fluff setting. "Are you still working on the project you showed me?"

  "Project? No. I was painting Jake's bedroom for Marci."

  "Oh." Emma was surprised Eric became domesticated so quickly. She could not think of a thing to say.

  "Emma?"

  "Yes. I'm here."

  "Are you all right?" Eric asked.

  "I am. Is there something you want to tell me?"

  "Yes. I've decided to stay in Buffalo Jump. I turned down the job in Billings. I thought you'd like to know."

  "Did Marci have anything to do with it?" Emma asked.

  "Marci?"

  "Yes. She said you've been her angel."

  "Oh. That. It's not what you think, Emma. I offered to paint one room for the person who bid the highest during the silent auction for Jake. The winner donated the service to Marci, so I painted Jake's bedroom. That's all it was, Emma."

  Emma fought back her tears. She was completely unprepared to hear Eric and Marci were just friends. She might have laughed at the misunderstanding if she'd not been so disappointed for so long.

  "Emma?"

  She wiped her eyes on a tissue. "Yes. I'm here. How's Jake getting along?"

  "He's doing great. He'll be fine. Hey, I wanted to ask if you'd come for Thanksgiving."

  "Oh, I would love to, but I can't. I always work so the staff with family can be gone. I'm sorry."

  "Do you have plans for Christmas?" Eric asked.

  "I always work Christmas week, too. The office makes these arrangements pretty far ahead. I'm sure no one will be able to change now. People already have their reservations."

  "Well, it doesn't have to be Thanksgiving or Christmas. Are you free at all in the next month?" Eric asked.

  "Let me check my calendar at the office. I might be able to move some appointments. I can tell new clients I won't be around in December, but my current clients will want to get their cases closed this year. Do you have anything going on?"

  "Nothing but work. Hopefully, we can coordinate your trip with my schedule, so I'm working when you're sleeping."

  "And when will you sleep?" Emma laughed.

  "I can sleep when you're not here. Do you have much vacation left?"

  "Two days. I get three weeks and used two last summer and three days here and there. I've been saving the days to interview for another job if I need to. My vacation starts over in January," Emma said.

  "Let me know what you come up with," Eric said.

  "I will. I'm glad you called."

  "Me, too. Bye, Emma."

  "Bye."

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Deputy Knudsen was still looking for the person who'd dressed like Batman and robbed the pizza parlor while he was parked behind it waiting for speed violations. There were no robberies in the last three weeks, but Deputy Knudsen believed the thief would strike again. The pizza parlor employee described Batman as around six feet tall. The employee was not able to identify Batman's voice, because he did not speak. Instead, he handed the employee a note. Deputy Knudsen entered it into evidence.

  HOLY PEPPERONI AND CHEESE! GIVE ME ALL YOUR MONEY AND GET DOWN ON YOUR KNEES!

  Batman did not use a gun in the robbery, but the employee was intimidated by his size. Not only was he tall, but brawny. The employee thought Batman might attack him if he refused.

  Deputy Knudsen noticed Batman was wearing roller skates when he left the pizza parlor. He was surprised the employee didn't mention them. It wasn't because Batman never wears roller skates. These skates were hot pink with a leopard skin pattern.

  The Sun River County Sheriff's Department budget allowed for only one detective. He was busy with a full caseload when the pizza parlor robbery took place. Deputy Knudsen knew it was very likely the detective would not find time to devote to the Batman robbery. Even if he had the time, the detective did not believe the robber was still in Sun River County.

  Great Falls did not have a roller rink, so Deputy Knudsen made it a habit to watch pedestrians in Buffalo Jump, hoping he'd see someone rolling down the street in pink leopard skin skates. The deputy spent two weeks looking for a man and then realized he should be looking for a woman. The hot pink leopard skin roller skates were the key. Now he needed to find a brawny, six-foot woman. Since there were no roller rinks in the area, there were no shops selling roller skates.

  Early in the afternoon the day before Thanksgiving, Eric Knudsen drove to Missoula. He would celebrate Thanksgiving with the friend whose wedding brought him to Montana several years before. Eric searched online for sports equipment in the area and stopped at the one location advertising roller skates. He told the clerk he was an off-duty deputy from Buffalo Jump and was investigating a robbery. He asked the clerk if he'd ever sold hot pink leopard skin roller skates. The clerk remembered a special order he'd handled for an unusually tall girl. She could not wear the size seven skate he carried in the store. He remembered asking if the girl was on the basketball team at the university because of her height. She was not on the team, he remembered, but she did say she lifted weights. He gave the deputy her phone number and address in Missoula.

  He parked nearby and walked to the house, which was tucked into a neighborhood of older homes on the north side of town. He knocked at the door and was surprised when a very short woman with thinning red hair answered the door.

  Deputy Knudsen showed the woman his identification. "Good afternoon, Ma'am. I'm a deputy with the Sun River County Sheriff's Department. Is Mallory Jackson here?"

  "No, she's not. Where's your uniform?"

  "I'm off duty, Ma'am. Would you mind if I come in? I'd like to ask you a few questions," the deputy said.

  "You can come in, but I doubt I'll be much help to you."

  "Thanks. You've got a nice home here. Do you keep it up yourself?" the deputy asked.

  "I don't do much with it. My husband used to. After he passed, I got sick. I only have Mallory, and she's not much good to me."

  "Does she live with you?"

  "Used to. She moved out day before yesterday. Has a boyfriend in a little town near Great Falls. Bison something."

  "Buffalo Jump?" the deputy asked.

  "That's it. Do you know where it is?"

  "Yes. I do. What does she do there?"

  "As little as possible, to be sure. She's livin' with the no-account bum. I've been afraid she'd wind up in trouble before too long."

  "Has she talked about robbing anyone
?"

  "Robbing? Oh, no. In trouble, you know, pregnant."

  "Mrs. Jackson, a pizza parlor in Buffalo Jump was robbed last month. I think Mallory might know about it. Did she say anything that might help me find her boyfriend?"

  "No. She was mad when she left here. She stormed out the door. She's never told me where he lives."

  "Do you have a picture of her?"

  The woman pointed to a high school graduation portrait on the wall. "That's her. Was nice looking once. She's tall like her daddy. She's colored her hair now, so it's blond instead of dark."

  "Do you have a more recent photo of her?"

  "I'm sure I do, but it's been a while since I put my photos in the scrapbook. I didn't have the time when my husband was sick. I lost interest in those things after he passed. Let me look here."

  The woman got down on the floor with great difficulty and dug for the photo in a cabinet next to the sofa. As she plowed through the interior, the deputy watched with amusement. Photos, magazines, newspaper pages, coupons, old greeting cards, glossy campaign flyers from both parties, and an open bag of pistachios tumbled out.

  "Here it is," she said. She handed the photo to the deputy. "Don't tell Mallory I gave you the photo. She's got a nasty temper." The deputy helped her get up from the floor.

  "I suppose Mallory isn't coming home for Thanksgiving."

  "Hell no."

  "Are you having Thanksgiving dinner with anyone?"

  "Me and the neighbor lady. We're both widows. It's my turn to fix the dinner. She'll bitch about the frozen dinners, but it'll have to do."

  "I appreciate your help, Mrs. Jackson. You take care, now."

  "If you talk to Mallory, tell her to call me. She's all I got left."

  "I'll have her call you."

  The deputy closed the screen door behind him and walked carefully down the stairs, which were rotting and crooked.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Thanksgiving week at work was always slow. People either left town to visit family, took vacation to cook, or simply put off unpleasant legal decisions until after the holiday. Emma found it more tiring to be bored than overworked. She was invited to Thanksgiving dinner with the family of an office friend but made up an excuse. She'd accepted invitations in the past only to find she felt out of place. It was less lonely to stay home than to be the only person at the table who was not actually part of the family.

  Emma enjoyed sleeping in on Thanksgiving Day, ate a light brunch, read an eBook she downloaded to her reader, and then enjoyed a walk in the neighborhood. She microwaved a chicken parmesan dinner and then ate the single serving of pumpkin pie she purchased the day before at the deli. She poured milk in a mug of espresso, wrapped up in her afghan, and passed the evening watching Sleepless in Seattle. No matter how many times she watched the movie, she always cried. She knew she would stop watching the movie when she did not need a box of tissues at the end.

  After deciding what she'd wear to work the next day, Emma set her alarm, pulled her comforter up to her chin, and sighed. It was a perfect day.

  When Emma opened her eyes, it was black as pitch in the room. There was no light in the hall, either. Then she noticed her alarm clock was off. There must have been a power failure. Emma dug in the drawer of the chest next to her bed for the Big Ben she kept for emergencies. Then she turned on her phone for the correct time. It was a little after two in the morning. Emma set the backup alarm, shut off her phone, and flipped her pillow over. She closed her eyes. Then she heard something. She lay very still, listening. Then she heard it again. Emma froze. It was bad enough hearing a strange noise without hearing one in the dark. Would someone find her alone in her bedroom, or simply look for something to steal and then leave? Was someone after her? She could think of no one who disliked her enough to break in and attack her. Then she saw the glow from a flashlight in the hallway. Emma opened the drawer again and found her own flashlight and the small pistol she bought for self-defense. She quietly slipped out of bed, knelt beside it, and aimed the pistol at the light in the hallway.

  "I'm pointing a gun at you, whoever you are. Leave now, or I'll shoot!" Emma tried her best to sound more threatening than afraid.

  The light in the hall disappeared, and Emma heard someone stumble.

  "Shit!" he said. Then he knocked over a vase, so she knew exactly where he was.

  Emma went to the door of her bedroom still holding the pistol. She could see the beam from the flashlight bouncing around the living room as the intruder tried to escape. Emma thought she'd be safer if she could not identify him, so she stayed in the bedroom. She heard the door to the balcony open and close. Emma walked slowly down the hallway following the beam of her flashlight. When she reached the living room, she could see no one. She went to the door, locked it, and then noticed the entire neighborhood was in the dark. She was shivering, and turned to go back to bed. She'd call 9-1-1 to report the intruder so the police could look for him in the neighborhood.

  She was almost at her bedroom door when Emma was grabbed from behind. His hand was over her mouth. His left arm was wrapped around her. She struggled, but he was stronger than she was.

  "Drop your gun and flashlight," he ordered.

  Once Emma was unarmed, he moved her to the bedroom.

  "What do you want?"

  "Shut up. If you scream, I'll kill you," he threatened.

  "I won't scream. What do you want?"

  The man was tying Emma's hands behind her back. He tossed her on top of the bed face down and tied her feet together. Then he left the room. He had both flashlights now and was opening and closing doors and drawers. He was looking for something. He seemed to know what it was. Emma heard him in the kitchen opening cupboards and tossing pans to the floor. Then he returned to the bedroom. He was wearing a ski mask, and his voice was muffled.

  "Where's that box of ivory?" he demanded.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I know there's a box of ivory here. Tell me where it is, or I'll blow your head off!"

  "It's in the safe. In the linen closet."

  "Where the hell is the linen closet?"

  "In the bathroom. The safe's on the floor in the back."

  Emma heard the man in the bathroom. Her mind was racing. She needed to get away from him. He found the small safe and brought it to the bedroom. He set it next to her on the bed and demanded the combination. She told him what to do, but she did not tell him there was a trick to getting the safe open.

  "You're lying. Tell me the real numbers!" he shouted.

  "Those are the numbers. Untie me, and I'll open it for you."

  "Shit. I swear if you try anything, I'll kill you!"

  The man untied her hands and turned her over, sitting her up on the bed.

  "Untie my feet."

  "You don't need them untied."

  "I do. I can't listen this way."

  "Open the damn safe now!"

  Emma hoped to run once her feet were untied. She would need to think of something else. She opened the safe on the second try.

  "Give me the box of ivory."

  Emma handed him the box. "That's it."

  He grabbed the box, looked inside, and left the room. Emma was relieved when he did not pick up her pistol and shoot her.

  After she heard the man slam the door to the balcony, Emma wiggled across the bed and picked her phone up from the chest beside it. She turned it on and called 9-1-1.

  By the time the EMT checked Emma for injuries and the police officer and evidence tech left her apartment, she had only two hours to sleep. After the ordeal of Thanksgiving night, she decided to go into the office later than usual. She left a message for Ally saying she'd had a bad night and would be in about mid-morning. Then Emma got back into bed and did not set the alarm.

  Emma woke up when the crew from the power company began working on the line on the other side of the parking lot. It was half-past nine. She rubbed her eyes and wrapped up in her robe. She never wanted a cup of es
presso more. She could not shower. There would be no hot water without electricity to power the water heater. Emma's eyes were gritty from crying at the end of Sleepless in Seattle, and she saw her cheek was bruised. The intruder left a scratch on her forehead. The EMT had stuck a Band-Aid over it. He apologized at the time for not having anything but Disney characters.

  Although Emma did not remember struggling with the intruder, her body hurt everywhere. She slipped on a comfortable pair of chinos, a loose-fitting top, and her sneakers. Feeling as battered as she did, it required great effort to go into the office. She needed to be comfortable. Fridays were casual, and the office would be quiet the day after the holiday.

  The intruder left the apartment in a mess, but it could wait. Emma would be able to clean up and recover during the weekend. She tried not to think about the man who terrified her and destroyed her sense of well-being. She needed to focus on doing her job. First, she'd stop for the espresso.

  When Emma walked past her, Ally did a double take. She jumped up from her desk and followed Emma down the hall.

  "Looks like the turkey won."

  Emma frowned at her.

  "Sorry. Who did that to you?"

  "Somebody got into my apartment last night," Emma said. She went into her office, tossed her briefcase on the desk, and hung her coat on the rack.

  "Ohmygod. Are you serious?" Ally asked.

  Emma dropped into her chair and booted her laptop. "He seemed to know what he was looking for, too."

  "You were robbed?" Ally asked.

  "I was. He trashed the apartment and tied me up. Frankly, I'm lucky he didn't shoot me."

  "Oh, Em. Can I get you something? I feel awful for you."

  "Thanks. I'm glad it's going to be quiet here today. Let's keep this between us. I don't feel like explaining. Any fires to put out yet?" Emma waited for her mail program to load.