“What’s going on, Mrs. G.?” Ryan’s voice came through.
“Ryan, please...” Georgie started to say.
“Can I talk to him?” Mason asked, reaching for the phone and Georgie offered no argument. “Ryan, this is Mason Montgomery. Convince Paula that her mom is fine.” A pause, but Georgie could hear Ryan’s voice. “No, Nick left. She’s been with Cassie and April.” He waited a moment, nodding, then broke in. “Ryan, can you trust me here? Right now, the less I say to you, the less jumping to conclusions there’ll be. Just tell Paula, her mom wants her nowhere near her right now.”
Georgie nodded, and mouthed a Thank you.
Mason smiled at her and touched the tip of his finger to her nose. “Don’t let Paula get any more excited than she already is. Her mom’s taken care of. Unless Nick comes back,” he told Ryan, “I’ll be spending the night. She won’t be alone. I called the police to check out the house and property. They’ll be there well before we arrive giving the place a good sweep. Would you call Steven and warn him?”
“Oh, my God, Steven.” Georgie’s head was spinning, thankful for Mason’s quick thinking.
“Just in case he should get a similar message,” Mason said into the phone.
Georgie could hear Ryan’s voice with Paula’s mixed in. Mason’s grin widened as he wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and drew her to him. “Believe me, she’s become very important to me too. G‘nite.”
He flip-shut the phone and handed it back to Cassie.
Cassie patted April on the chest, and pointed at Mason. “You’re a good man, Charlie Brown.”
Mason’s cell phone rang and he flipped it open, looked at the caller ID. Georgie saw the name, T. Clark, pop up. He flipped it shut, put it back at his waist holder.
“Come on,” he said. “Best go see what we’re facing at your place.”
“I’ll go tell Dr. Kane we’re leaving,” Cassie said. “He doesn’t want to leave Daisy or Max alone.”
“Tell him thank you for coming in for me,” Georgie said.
Mason tossed April his keys. “You take my 4Runner. I’ll go with George.”
The early evening air felt cool and soothing on Georgie’s face. The clouds had cleared away and the stars were bright. As they started to split up to get into their vehicles Mason’s phone went off again. Once more he opened it and after looking at the caller ID, he flipped the lid back down.
“Let’s go,” he said, and Georgie beeped open the doors to her Subaru.
It was a quiet drive to the house. Georgie wanted to ask Mason so many questions, but decided like so many other things in their life, each one seemed to surface at its appropriate time. When they pulled into her driveway and rounded the small circle in the yard, there were three police cars parked. Flashlight beams were moving about the shrubbery and fencing.
Chapter twenty-five
The drive home erased none of what happened, and reality was bustling about Georgie’s house. Police were searching the area around her house and around April’s BMW. A tall officer wearing a heavy jacket with POLICE in bright yellow across the back turned at their approach and began walking toward them. Georgie turned off the ignition. It was Officer Roberts.
“Oh, no,” Georgie said, getting a good look at April’s BMW. The back passenger window was broken, its door left slightly ajar. Georgie and Mason got out of the car and went to the BMW. An officer wearing CST across his back and chest held out a hand to keep them away. He then motioned to another officer, a woman, wearing the same letters. They began powdering the car door inside and out. After running a blue light over the surface, the policewoman shook her head and carefully opened the door to begin inspection of the interior.
At the approaching headlights, both Georgie and Mason turned. It was Mason’s 4Runner.
When April and Cassie got out, Georgie swallowed hard. How was she to approach April? What could she say? Cassie immediately rounded the front end of the car and went to April, but April just stood there, taking in the scene before closing the door. Georgie’s heart saddened, heavy with guilt, as she watched April make her way closer with Cassie at her side trying to buffer the moment.
“I’m so sorry,” Georgie finally managed to say.
April raised a hand in that gentle way of hers to shush her, and silently urged Cassie to stand aside. Alone, April moved around the rear of the car to look at the other side and back, making sure she kept out of the police’s way. Her hands were in fists, now and then coming up slightly then back down at her sides. Georgie saw the straight shoulders slump for only a moment before April drew them back with a deep breath, her stance now solid.
“I am so sorry,” Georgie said again, knowing she couldn’t say it often enough.
“Don’t be sorry, Georgie.” April’s voice was soft, no pretense in her manner... just thoughtful. “You didn’t do it. It’s just a car. The window can be replaced. I’m pissed. No question that I’m pissed, but it’s just a car.”
“What was in there they wanted so badly?”
They all turned at Officer Roberts’ question. Georgie looked about, wondering where Tonie was. Had she and Roberts finally had their inevitable falling out?
“We think it was my cell phone,” Georgie told Roberts. “It slips out of these pants’ pocket and I guess with all the happenings, I must not have put it back in. Anyway... he’s got it, whoever it is.”
Mason’s cell phone went off. Even in the dark Georgie could see displeasure shadow his features. He took the phone from his waist. It kept ringing as he flipped open its lid. His mood changed as he turned it so she could see the caller ID, then showed its face to Roberts. It displayed the name, George.
“Now we’re being taunted,” Mason said.
“Or he doesn’t know you’re here,” Roberts said, “and he’s trying to lure you like he did Ms. Gainsworth’s daughter.”
Mason nodded, let it ring once more, before answering. “George? You okay? George?”
There was a audible fading away of a, “Beep, beep, beep.” Mason shook his head and held out the open face so they could see. It showed the caller had hung up; CALL ENDED. He was about to place it back at his waist when it ping-pinged. “Text message,” he told them, and once more held it up so they could see. Still from Georgie’s cell phone, the text message read: KISS HER GOOD-BYE.
No one said anything before Officer Roberts cleared his throat. “Ms. Gainsworth. We’d like to check out the inside of your house, if it’s okay with you.”
Kiss her good-bye. The printout stayed in that wide screen of her mind, the one that makes all things so much bigger.
“Ms. Gainsworth?” Roberts said.
“George?” Mason said.
Mason’s voice and the touch of Cassie’s hand on her shoulder blanked out the screen in her head and pulled her back to the moment.
“What?” she asked, still disoriented and not sure what they wanted from her.
“They need to secure the inside of the house,” Mason said.
Without answering, she pulled out her remote to open the garage door and handed Roberts her house keys. He nodded at her and turned to his team.
“Okay, guys,” he called out. “Every nook and cranny. Nothing is left unturned. Seeking anything out of the ordinary.”
They disappeared into her house, black ravens swooping in through her kitchen door, and Georgie turned away, totally at a loss as to what to do.
“You want to come home with us?” Cassie asked.
Georgie shook her head. “Don’t you think I’ve brought enough grief down onto your shoulders?” she asked, motioning toward April who was still watching the police do their work inside her BMW with the blue light and swirling dusting brushes.
“Looks clean back here,” someone said from the backseat.
“Too clean,” the policewoman said, and the work continued. “Looks like a wipe-down.”
Georgie jerked away from Cassie’s knuckles gently tapping at the side of her head for att
ention. “Listen to me. April called it. The window is replaceable. You are not. Come home with us.”
It took a while before Georgie could turn and look at her home, a place she shared with Sam. Somehow, the black clad figures, albeit police officers, had shattered that Norman Rockwell painting. She wanted to run from it, never return to this now desecrated place. Opening her mouth to say yes to Cassie’s kind offer, Georgie shut it, her teeth clicking as she clenched them. Is this what she was going to be? A runaway-and-hide scaredy-cat? She had snubbed a screw you to the stalker. No way was she going to back down and let this maniac drive her from this house.
“No,” she told Cassie, then walked over to April and inched up on her toes to wrap an arm about her shoulders, for a patting hug. “Make sure you bill my insurance for this.”
Georgie found the top of her head being patted in return as April said, “Georgie, it’s just a car. I could easily buy two BMWs with no dent in our bank account, but if anything happened to you, Cassie would not survive. I,” tapping herself on the chest, “couldn’t take that. Nick would follow. Three people cannot be replaced.” She took a deep breath and looked down at her. “You want to help me? Do whatever it takes to keep yourself safe. That’s all I ask.”
Georgie gave her and Cassie a quick embrace, and went to Mason. He had been talking to Roberts and was now taking those long easy strides toward her.
“Roberts wants to talk with you.”
Georgie followed Mason into her garage where Roberts nodded to his men as they exited the house, each one declaring the room they checked was clear. One officer came out packing away some electrical gadget Georgie suspected was a bug-detector. Could she really have been bugged? Why? The whole thing was this... this surreal montage of absurdities.
“Clean,” he told Roberts, and offered her a hint of a nod as he went past her to the police vehicles.
Roberts waited until Georgie realized he was waiting for her to give the okay to enter. Odd that their protective actions had erased that entitlement from her mind. She had been waiting for his permission to enter her own house. House. Was it no longer a home? Damn whoever was doing this to her. Damn him!
Shoulders squared, she looked to Cassie and April, motioned for them to come in, then marched into her house, determined to reclaim it as her home, but even as she entered the kitchen Georgie was struck with the alien coldness of it. No family laughter. No aromas of cooking. There was no Daisy or Max to greet her, and she sighed deeply.
Each having taken a seat at the table, she looked to Roberts. The man was shifting in his chair. This was not going to be good, she thought.
“Ms. Gainsworth,” Roberts started out, “it would appear this whole thing centers on you.”
“I got that,” she said, and let it go. Glib had no place here, but it was just so ridiculous to her. And if she didn’t make light of it, she would weaken and shatter. And that, she would not do. “Go on.”
“This... person.” He almost choked on the word. “He wants to hurt you. Now, you must understand, I do not blame you. You are not to blame here. I want you to understand that.”
The muscles in Georgie’s face twitched. She looked to Cassie, April, Mason, then back at Roberts. Where was he going with this? “Okay,” she said, and waited.
“Did anything strange happen before the doll was taken? Anything out of the ordinary?”
She gave that some thought. Strange. “Like what?” she asked with a shrug. “What are you looking for?”
“Anything different, a change of life style or habit. Anything, no matter how insignificant.”
“Until Raggs was taken, my life was... was dull. I worked, came home, and back to work the next day.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his little notebook and pen. Without looking up, he flipped through the pages. “You’ve been widowed what, three years?”
His dark eyes raised, kept steady contact, studying her, a bug under his scrutiny as he asked his question.
“Yes. Why? What does...”
“Please, Ms. Gainsworth. For now, let me do the asking. Okay?”
An inchworm spinning steel instead of silk worked its way up Georgie’s spine and she sat upright in her seat. “Yes. Actually two years, eleven months. October 25th, 4:45 in the morning will be three years.”
At the curt tone in her voice, she could see Roberts realize his mistake and draw back. He looked down at his notes, tapping his pen, using up time. Okay, she thought. Go ahead and wait until I calm down. Play your little game. Mason’s hand sat heavy on her shoulder, and she almost shrugged it off.
“We’re all on the same side, here,” Mason said, his grip softening into a supportive touch.
“Really? Doesn’t feel like it to me,” Georgie said.
“George...”
“Oh, all right!” she burst out, hands flying up to push her hair back, causing Mason to remove his hand. She narrowed her glare on Roberts. “Ask your questions. Keep examining my face to see if I’m lying; psyche me out.”
Roberts was quiet, took a deep breath before starting in again. “You’ve not dated in all that time?”
“No.”
“Not in all that time?”
“You know how long three years is when someone you love dies? It’s the longest second of your life. No. I have not dated.”
“You went out with Jeffrey,” Cassie said.
Georgie turned on Cassie, saw April nudge her, and Cassie shrugged. “Well, she did.” Her hand motioned toward Roberts. “He said, no matter how insignificant.”
“I told you,” Georgie said to Cassie through clenched teeth, “That wasn’t a date.” She turned back to Roberts, saw his features still ridged, sight still on her, and admitted. “Well, I guess to Jeffrey it might have been or seemed that way. Yes. About two weeks ago. Two dinners.” She held up two fingers. “That was it.”
“A change,” Roberts said.
“Yes,” she agreed. “A change.”
“You’re in what...” He flipped the page over, read it, then let it drop back down. “A writing class?”
“Yes. Seven years, off and on.”
“Not really a change there,” Roberts said, almost a murmur or a spoken thought, then let his sight rise slowly, but with a different target in mind. “But this is your first time, right?” he asked Mason.
“What...” Georgie started out, but Roberts held up his pen for her to stop.
“Yes,” Mason said. “This Fall term.”
“Okay,” Roberts said, and wrote in his notebook. “So that was definitely different, right?”
“Among another ten new people,” Georgie said. “It’s a large class. There’s always at least ten new people. Easy credits, they think until they find out you actually have to participate to get credit. Then they quit. Where are you going with this?”
“How long have you known Mr. Underwood?”
“Nick?” four startled voices asked.
Roberts nodded.
Georgie shot to her feet and swiped a finger at him. “Not Nick!” When Mason reached out to her, Georgie shrugged clear of his hand. “Not Nick.”
“How long have you known him?” Roberts persisted.
“Kindergarten.”
“Do you know where he is right now?”
Georgie let her sight level flatly on the calm poker-faced Officer. She wanted to so badly say yes, angry with Nick for not being here to defend himself, but all she could do was declare, “No.”
Roberts cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. After a heart beat, his dark eyes met hers, emotion set aside, but laser sharp as he indicated she sit.
Georgie refused to heel.
“Please,” he said, hand motioning to the chair.
Georgie looked to Mason. There was anger in his face, but directed at what or who?
“He’s a friend,” Mason told Roberts.
“Is that what he is?” Roberts asked, his eyes never having left her face. “Since your husband’s death he’
s had you basically all to himself, right? Until Jeffrey, and he’s now gone. Now there’s Montgomery here.”
Georgie heard Cassie’s gasp, and the rustle of April’s jacket as she held out her arm to stop Cassie. Georgie took a step closer to Roberts and leaned down, eye to eye with the man; less than a foot between their noses.
“But it wasn’t Mason’s dog that was poisoned, was it? We aren’t standing in Mason’s home, are we?” Georgie crossed her arms and dropped into the chair, so hard it scraped the floor in a sharp squeal. Without losing eye contact, she swung a leg over the knee. “Yes, Nicholas Underwood is far more than a friend to me.”
“And me,” Cassie said. There was no attempt to hide her anger.
“Please,” Roberts said, clicked his pen and finally let his sight drift to Cassie. “Don’t make me ask you to leave.”
Georgie sat forward, ignoring Mason’s warning touch, and waved a hand for Roberts’ attention. “Hello?” She waited until he looked back. “Do you have a warrant? Some sort of legal onionskin paper in your pocket? Because if you don’t, I’ll ask you to leave before you make that request of Cassie or April.” She leaned back. “Nick is a brother to me and Cassie, just as Cassie is a sister to me and Nick. No, I do not know where Nick is at the moment, but before you point the finger at him, let me tell you. Nick can do many things, but he cannot be in two places at once. He was behind me when the Durango tried to run me over. He’s the one that pulled me out of its way.”
Roberts nodded at her explanation, gave his notebook a glance with a tap of the pen, then looked up. Eye contact firm, probing. “Do you have any idea who it might be? Anyone, no matter how trivial it might seem to you.”
Georgie ran her hand over her hair, over her eyes, then leaned back until she felt Mason’s body and his gentle hand once more on her shoulders. “I don’t know.” She shook her head, trying to draw up some memory she might have let slip into those corners filled with unimportant facts. “I have customers that have made some overtures in that direction, but I’ve never gone out with one. Bad policy. Just don’t do it, I’ve told my girls.”
Point of Attraction Page 21