I put the crocheting down and sat a little closer to Keaton. After some channel surfing, we settled on a Dallas Mavericks game. But in the back of my mind, there was something nagging me. What if the ‘him’ referred to in the note wasn’t Cash. What if it was Keaton? Well, wouldn’t that be a kick in the pants?
Chapter 28
Unfortunately, someone banging on the door thirty minutes later shattered any quiet time we were hoping for. Keaton motioned for me to be quiet and went to the door. “Who is it?”
“Sydney. Open up!”
He turned off the alarm, unlocked the door and let her in. “Is the fire finally out?” she said, plopping down on the couch next to me.
I nodded. “I am officially homeless, carless and clueless.”
“Not totally clueless,” she said. “I did manage to get to a couple of places tonight.”
“By yourself? I thought we agreed that I was going to go with you,” Keaton chided her.
“You were needed elsewhere. I did just fine, thank you very much.”
“Did you learn anything?” I interjected.
“I went to the two places we talked about earlier, Mack’s Tavern and the bowling alley. He was not at either place the night of his fight with Deja.”
“So he doesn’t have an alibi.”
“Not necessarily. If he had a court appearance the next morning, it would have been dumb for him to go out drinking,” Keaton replied
“He just says he had a court appearance. We haven’t confirmed that yet,” I said. “We should have thought about all of this long before now.”
“Hindsight is 20/20,” Sydney replied. “Let’s just go from here. What other questions do we have?”
I told her about the things we had discussed earlier. “Three different people?” she said incredulously. “Are you kidding me?”
“I don’t think so,” I said as Keaton brought us some water. “Cash is the most obvious. We are pretty sure about Deja, but have absolutely no clue who that the third person is. The only thing we are sure of is that it’s a woman. ‘My flame for him burns bright’ is a dead giveaway.”
“A bit sexist, don’t you think? The writer could be a man,” Sydney pointed out.
“I don’t think so, especially if we are talking about Cash.”
“What do you mean ‘if’?” Keaton said. “I thought we decided the writer was talking about Cash.”
“What if the writer is referring to you and not Cash?”
“Get serious.”
“I am serious! I have been spending a lot of time with you lately. You’ve been seen outside my house several times, we’ve been seen at the hospital together.”
“Cash has been to your house three times this week,” Keaton countered.
“Yes, but he hasn’t been seen in public with me like you have. Cash slipped in the first and third times; the second time he crashed his way in. It would have been hard for no one not to notice him that time.”
“I don’t like the idea of being responsible for the things that have happened to you this week,” he said quietly.
“You aren’t responsible,” Sydney said. “Some lunatic is out there doing this. And don’t say it is because of you. Charlie only pointed out the possibility that it could be because of you and not Cash. Again, we have absolutely no proof.”
“We are running around in circles,” I said, getting up to walk around. “We know Cash has an axe to grind and has admitted to wanting me six feet under. Obviously this other person only wants to damage my property, although this last note suggests they are willing to do bodily harm.”
“Cheerful thoughts,” Sydney noted.
“We just have to make sure they don’t succeed,” Keaton said. “You have to stay out of sight.”
“What we need to do is talk to Braden,” I replied. “We need to go see him in the morning.”
“We?” Keaton snapped. “Did you hear what I just said? YOU have to stay out of sight.”
“I heard you. I’m just ignoring that comment.”
“I am not about to let you put yourself in harm’s way because of some pigheaded, stubborn need to do things for yourself. You are going to stay here if I have to handcuff you to the bed.”
“Good luck with that one,” Sydney snorted. “Let me know how that works out for you.” Keaton just glared at her. “I agree with him, Charlie, but I know you aren’t going to stand for it. So I suggest we just do what we can to keep you safe. If you want to go see Braden, then we’ll go see Braden.”
Keaton threw up his hands in disgust. “You’re both nuts.”
“I’m not nuts. I’m mad. For the last few days, people have been coming after me for various reasons, none of which I deserve. Why people believe that I suddenly hold the key to Cash Christian’s heart is beyond me. That man is not worth the gum on the bottom of my shoes. Whoever wants him can have him! Just leave me the heck alone! Until that happens, I am going to do my best to find out who is after me before they kill me. Now, you can help me or get the heck out of my way because I am going through. What’s it going to be?”
“So first thing in the morning we’ll go see Braden,” Keaton answered.”
Smart man.
Chapter 29
Sydney called early the next morning to let us know that Braden was being released. So after stopping at Edna’s Country Kitchen for some take-out breakfast, we met them at Braden’s apartment the next morning.
“Beware of sisters bearing breakfast,” Braden joked as we brought the food in. “What do you want, Charlie?”
“You mean Sydney didn’t tell you?”
“Not a word did she utter regarding your visit.”
“She wants to marry you and have ten children. We’re here to help you plan the wedding.” I didn’t move fast enough to get out of the path of his coffee spit take. The look of horror and shock on his face was worth the coffee bath, however.
“Charlie!” Sydney said. “I swear, Braden, that’s not true.”
“Oh, so you don’t harbor a secret desire to marry my brother?”
“No, I mean yes, I mean…oh good grief. You’re incorrigible,” she declared, throwing a couch cushion at me.
“I know, but you love me anyway.”
“Are they always like this?” Keaton asked Braden.
“Pretty much. Nice to see those broken ribs aren’t slowing you down, Sis.”
“At least I can get around without crutches.”
“Ok, you brought me food, you’ve insulted me a little, now what do you really want? This isn’t a social call.”
“No, it isn’t,” I admitted. “I need your help.”
“I won’t be able to work for a couple of months, Charlie,” Braden said. “Go ask Bernie.”
“He’s not exactly talking to me at the moment, Braden.”
“What do you mean ‘not talking to you’? What did you do?”
“I didn’t DO anything! He was asking me some questions, and I said I thought Cash was trying to get back at me for dumping him. He said it was the most egotistical thing he had ever heard.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What else did he say?”
“He might have told me to butt out of his investigation.”
“I’ll bet he did.”
“Actually,” Keaton said, “he told you to butt out of his investigation twice.”
I glared at him. “Okay, TWICE. But it’s not his house that was burned down, or his car that was blown sky high.”
“It is a police investigation, Charlie. You need to stay out of it.”
I groaned. “Are you telling me that you aren’t going to help us?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“So you are going to help?”
“I didn’t say that, either.”
I swear if he weren’t my brother, I’d strangle him. “What, pray tell, do you mean?”
Braden sighed. “I know that Bernie can be pigheaded at times. He does have a poin
t: this is an official police investigation. You could mess up his case if you go around poking your nose into his business. Knowing you like I do, however, I know that you will go around asking questions and getting into trouble. You have to learn to be discreet. Ask questions, but don’t call attention to yourself.”
“Good luck with that one,” Keaton said.
I glared at him again. “So you are unofficially telling me to stick my nose into police business?”
“You might be able to get some answers that people normally wouldn’t give to the police,” Braden conceded. “But whatever you learn, you will eventually have to tell Bernie.”
“That bites. Can’t you tell him for me?”
“How am I supposed to do that? I can barely get from here to the bathroom without help. If I bring anything to him, he is going to know you are involved. You might as well just do it yourself.”
“He’s right,” Sydney said. “Bernie may look like a country hick, but he isn’t dumb.”
“No, he’s just a chauvinist,” I replied.
“I’m sure that you have been thinking about suspects,” Braden said, cutting me off. “Tell me what you have.”
We spent the next hour talking and planning our strategy. “Don’t take any chances, Charlie,” Braden warned. “I’m not going to be able to help you out of any jams you get into.”
“I’m just going to ask a few questions. How much trouble can I get into?”
Yeah, yeah, I know, stupid question to ask when I’m the one involved in a mess.
Chapter 30
Sydney enlisted the help of Aspen and Nikki to scour the bars. Braden agreed to call the Dallas courthouse to verify Cash’s alibi on the morning of the explosion. Keaton and I decided to ask Bernie about the note left at the house fire. I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be happy to see me.
“What are you doing here, Bannerman?” Bernie snapped at me. “I’m busy. I don’t have time to listen to your idiotic theories.”
I was right. He isn’t happy to see me. “I’m not here to share one of my ‘idiotic theories’, Bernie. I wanted to ask you about the note that was left on my mailbox.”
“What about it? Officer Fox said he showed it to you and that you had no idea who left it. Have you suddenly remembered who left it?”
“No, I still don’t know who left it. I was just wondering if you found any fingerprints on it.”
“None of your business if I did or didn’t.”
“Why are you being so rude?” Keaton said. “It is a simple question. We aren’t asking to look at your files or anything. We just want to know if there were any fingerprints on the note.”
“Have you given up this idea that Cash is out to get you because you broke up with him?” Bernie countered.
“No, I haven’t, but I don’t think he’s the one who left the note. And I don’t think he set the fire.”
“What are you, psychic now?”
I took a deep breath to help keep myself calm. “No, I saw him last night.”
“Where?”
“Across the street from my burning house.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me to watch my back because it looked like someone besides him was after me.”
“He probably said that to throw you off.”
I shrugged. “You asked me what he said, that’s what he said.
“Did anyone see you talking to Cash?”
“Not that I am aware of.”
“So I only have your word that you talked to Cash?”
“Why would I lie?”
“I didn’t say you were lying. But if no one saw you talking to him at the fire, then it comes down to your word against his.”
“Oh.” I frowned. “So now what?”
“Nothing,” Bernie said. “I’ll do my job and you keep your nose out of my business.”
“Will you at least tell me if you found any fingerprints on the note?”
Bernie sighed and pulled a folder out of the top of the pile. “No matching fingerprints in the system, meaning whoever wrote the note has never been arrested or printed. The prints found on the trunk of your car belonged to Deja Taylor.”
“So Cash lied to protect Deja,” Keaton said.
“Looks like it,” Bernie replied, closing the folder and pushing it aside. “Now will you go?”
I knew we weren’t going to get anything else from him, so we got up to leave. “Charlie?” Bernie stopped me. “Be careful. Cash may have a point. Since Deja is dead, someone else is gunning for you. Maybe you should think about getting out of town for a while, just to be safe.”
“Thanks, Bernie. I’ll think about it.”
We walked out of the station into a fairly cool breeze. I zipped up my jacket and shoved my hands in the pockets. “Now what?” I asked Keaton.
He pulled his keys out of his pocket. “I don’t know. Bernie threw me for a loop there as we left, admitting that someone else was after you. Maybe we should take his advice.”
“I thought we agreed not to run and hide.” I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stared.
“What?” Keaton said, stopping beside me. “What’s wrong?”
I pointed at his car. Someone had smashed the windows and headlights of his new Shelby. Keaton walked around the car, staring at the damage while I went back inside the police station to report it. Bernie came out with two other officers to take a look. “Damn, this bites,” he commented after inspecting the damage.
“How could this happen so close to the police station?” I said.
Bernie shrugged. “No clue. Believe it or not, the city council won’t allow us to put security cameras out here. Bloody cheapskate bureaucrats.”
“This should help convince them.” I shook my head. “Oh Keaton, I am so sorry. This is all my fault.”
“How is it your fault? Did you break the windows? No, someone else did, and they left you a note,” he finished, pointing to the envelope under the wiper blade.
One of the officers took a picture of the envelope, fished out a plastic baggie and a pair of rubber gloves. She carefully lifted it from under the blade and opened it before sliding it inside the baggie. Sealing it up, she handed it to Bernie, who read it and silently handed it to me. “STAY AWAY FROM CHARLIE BANNERMAN! SHE IS GOING TO GET YOU KILLED!”
I was speechless. My worst fears were now written in multi-colored letters on a piece of paper. I saw tears drop onto the envelope and realized they were coming from me. I handed the baggie back to Bernie and wiped the tears from my eyes. Bernie handed the note to Keaton. “Charlie, you need to get out of here. Leave town. Don’t tell anyone where you are going. But get out of here until I can find out who is doing this.”
“Are you going to take me seriously now? Are you going to talk to Cash?”
Bernie nodded. “Yes, I will talk to him, I promise.”
“What about my parents? What about my brothers?”
“The direct threat is to you. If you are gone, I think they will be safe.”
“What about Keaton?”
“I’m going with you,” Keaton interjected. He held up his hand when I started to protest. “You can’t protect yourself with two broken ribs, Charlie. Whether you like to admit it or not, you need me. We are in this together until the end. No ifs, ands or buts.”
“He’s right, Charlie,” Bernie agreed. “You need him.”
Damn it, they were both right, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
Chapter 31
I didn’t like the idea of sneaking out of town. It made me feel like I had done something wrong, like I was being sent away to think about what I had done. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what had triggered this whole mess to start with. I could understand the part that involved Deja: Cash was all she had, and she felt threatened. When he told her they were through, she went after the one person she felt stood between her and happiness.
I could understand Cash’s part in this, too. Men like Cash have
big egos, and they don’t like challenges to their manhood. His reaction to Deja’s death puzzled me a bit, though. Maybe he loved her more than he cared to admit. It was my car she was in, so he focused his anger at me. I guess I could live with it, although I certainly didn’t approve of his destructive way of releasing his anger.
So who was the note writer? Was it the same person who blew up my car and burned down my house? Who did I know that had such a nasty disposition? Besides Cash, nobody, which mean there was a nameless person wanting to put my head on their mantelpiece. Sure hate to disappoint them, but my head looks a lot better on top of my shoulders, thank you very much.
“What are you thinking about?” Keaton asked, interrupting my train of thought. We were driving down the highway in his truck, our bags tucked behind the seats. Bernie promised to have the Shelby Mustang towed to the dealership after they finished processing it. The car would stay at there until we got back into town, whenever that was going to be.
“I was just wondering who hated me so much.”
“Deep thoughts there,” he said. “Have you come up with any names yet?”
I shook my head. “No one I know would hold a grudge that long, except for Cash. I don’t think I have anything left to fear from him, Keaton. He could have killed me the other night at the fire, but all he did was warn me.”
“Maybe he finally realizes you aren’t responsible for Deja’s death.”
“I certainly hope so.”
“Are you sure this doesn’t have anything to do with anything you have written lately?”
“No, everything I have written lately has been fluff pieces. Nothing deep and probing that would warrant coming after me.”
We drove in silence for a while. There isn’t much you can say when you are running for your life. I really wanted to stay and fight, not turn tail and run like a scared school kid.
“Did you tell anyone we were leaving town?” Keaton asked as he glanced into the rearview mirror.
“No, why?”
“Someone is following us.”
I looked in the side mirror and saw a truck in the distance. “Are you sure they are following us?”
He nodded. “I’ve been watching them for the last ten minutes. They haven’t made a move to pass us nor have they sped up. Well, that is until now.”
Good Night Sleep Tight Don't Let the Stalkers Bite (Charlie Bannerman Mysteries) Page 12