by Gayle Trent
I was thinking of what I needed to pack, including all the ingredients I’d need for my baking. Once I was ready to leave, I’d try to call Violet again. If, for some reason, I couldn’t crash there, maybe I could stay with Myra. I made a mental note to get the brownies cut and boxed before I packed my bag.
I pulled into my driveway and wasn’t as surprised as many people might’ve been to find China York sitting on my carport with a double-barreled shotgun on her lap.
McAfee pulled in behind me.
“China, put that thing away!” I said under my breath as I got out of the car. “I take it you heard.”
“Yep. Came over the police scanner.” She made no attempt to hide the gun. “They didn’t name names, but how many people in Brea Ridge have an ex-husband who tried to kill her? I didn’t jump to the wrong conclusion, did I?”
“You sure didn’t.” I looked back toward McAfee.
He strode over and plucked the shotgun off China’s lap. “Is that a Winchester 21, Ms. York?”
She nodded once. “It was one of my daddy’s guns.”
“Nice.” Officer McAfee opened the gun, removed the shells, and put them into his shirt pocket.
“How am I supposed to help protect Daphne with an empty gun?”
He grinned. “You wouldn’t want to take a man’s job away from him, would you, Ms. York?”
“No, but you won’t be hanging around. Or will you?”
“I’m afraid not. But just seeing you with that shotgun is enough to make most men pause.” He handed the gun back to China. “You ever shot that thing?”
“Yes, indeed.”
“Recoil knock you down?”
She tightened her mouth. “No. Give me back them shells, and I’ll show you how well I can shoot.”
“Some other time maybe.” McAfee laughed and turned to me. “Will you be all right if I head back to the station?”
“I will.”
He left with instructions for me to call immediately should Todd return.
“Come on in, and I’ll give you a glass of iced tea,” I said to China.
She stood and dusted off the seat of her jeans. “I’ll take you up on that.”
I unlocked the door, and we went inside.
China looked around appraisingly before placing the shotgun in the corner by the door. “Don’t worry. I have two more shells in my pocket. Want me to go ahead and reload?”
I shook my head. What if Todd should come back, kick open the door, and have a loaded shotgun right there handy? He might kill us both.
“Doesn’t appear that he did any damage to your place.”
“He didn’t, at least, not that I’ve been able to tell yet. He left me a note, but I threw it in the trash.”
“Let me guess. He loves you and wants you back.”
“How’d you know?” I asked.
“Stands to reason. He just got out of prison. He has no idea what to do next. Maybe he thinks that since you’ve started a new life here, he can just be part of that.”
“Then, boy, has he got another think coming.”
China chuckled. “Did they give you a restraining order?”
I nodded. “They’re calling it an emergency order of protection, and it’s only good for three days. But hopefully Todd will be long gone before those three days are up, and I won’t have to go before a judge and go through all of that rigmarole.”
“Well, I hope so, hon. But don’t get your hopes up too high.”
“Why not?”
“What else has Todd Martin got?” she asked.
I hadn’t thought of that.
“And, I’m sorry to say so, but those restraining orders are about as good as the paper they’re written on. That’s why I’m loaning you my shotgun.”
“Oh, no, China.” My eyes widened. “I wouldn’t have the first idea of how to use that thing.”
“You pick it up, point it, and shoot. Hopefully, all you’d have to do is threaten him. But I can show you how to use it in case you need to.”
“I’ll be fine,” I insisted. “I’m planning to stay with Violet, Jason, and the kids tonight. Todd wouldn’t dare do anything there.”
“Has Jason got a gun?”
I had no idea. “Probably.”
“Make sure before you leave here. I’ve got a couple of smaller guns if you think you’d be more comfortable with a pistol. The thing about a pistol is that you’ve got to be a fair to middling shot to make it count. And when you’re nervous, your aim is likely to be off. That’s why—if it was just going to be you here by yourself—I thought you’d be better off with the shotgun.”
“I…I sure do appreciate that.”
Before I had to discuss my need—or lack thereof—of a gun any further, Violet called.
“Please excuse me, China. I need to speak with Violet for just a second.” I answered the call. “Hi, there.”
“I cannot believe the nerve of that big, overgrown jerk!”
I smiled slightly. “It’s all right, Vi. I’m not hurt.”
“I’m not talking about you! He came to our house!”
“He what?”
“He came to our house and said he wanted to get reacquainted with his niece and nephew,” she said. “He said he had presents for them out in his truck and that he wanted to make sure it was all right with me and Jason if he gave the gifts to them.”
“What did the kids say—or do?” I groaned. “Did they even know who he was?”
“Thank goodness they were at day camp and missed the whole ordeal.”
“How did you get Todd to leave?”
“First off, I never undid the chain on the door. I told him—truthfully—that the kids weren’t home but that I didn’t think it was such a good idea for him to come back into their lives right now.”
“What do you mean, come back into their lives?” I scoffed. “He was never in their lives to begin with.”
“I know. But I was trying to be…I don’t know. Diplomatic. But I know this much—he’d better stay away from my kids!”
“He will.” I sighed. “Maybe I shouldn’t spend the night with you guys after all.”
“Of course, you’re spending the night with us. I don’t want you over there by yourself. What if the idiot decides to come back in the middle of the night? Who’s going to protect you—that poor little one-eyed cat?”
She was right. Sparrow wasn’t much of a guard cat. She’d likely dive under the bed at the merest hint of a commotion.
“But what if he returns to your house?”
“Then we’ll call the police. Get your butt over here before I come and get you myself.”
“I did get an emergency order of protection,” I said. “That might make the police come out quicker if we do have to call them.”
I ignored China’s look of doubt.
“Please say you’re coming and that you’ll get here soon,” Violet said. “And, as far as the kids go, we’re sticking with your story about the oven.”
“The story about the oven is true. Myra gave me the name of someone to call.”
“Okay. Good. See you soon.”
When I ended the call, China had one eye closed and was looking up at the ceiling. “Who’d Myra tell you to call about the oven—McElroy Haynes?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“He does know his way around appliances, but he’s the hatefulest man this side of Red Onion.”
Red Onion was a super-max state prison located in Wise County, Virginia. Now I wasn’t sure I wanted Mr. Haynes anywhere near my oven, much less, me.
“Do you know of anybody else?”
“Not anybody as good as Haynes. But if he won’t come out and fix your oven in a reasonable amount of time and at a reasonable price, give me a call. I’ll see who else I can come up with.”
“Want to go with me to Myra’s to get the brownies I left there?”
“Sure.” She grabbed the shotgun. “Let’s go.”
I locked the door, put my keys in t
he pocket of my jeans, and headed off after Annie Oakley. When we got to Myra’s house, I knocked this time rather than barging right in. I needed to apologize for my earlier behavior.
Myra opened the door. “Lord, have mercy! Are you gonna kill me, China?”
“No, this is in case that old Todd has little enough sense to show his sorry face around here again.”
“Oh, all right. Come on in then.” She backed up and let us into the foyer. “Is that thing loaded?”
“Not at the moment. But we can change that if we have to.” She propped the shotgun against the wall.
Bruno went over to sniff the weapon.
“I wouldn’t do that, little bit,” China said. “If that thing falls on you, it’ll squash you flatter than a bug.”
The dog apparently understood what she said because it scurried away.
“Thank you for all your help earlier,” I said to Myra. “And please forgive me for just barging in here.”
“Honey, that’s okay. You were scared out of your mind.”
“Yes, I was.”
“What happened at the police station?”
I explained about the protection order and then joked about the fact that I nearly asked Officer McAfee to stay the night with me because I was so scared.
Myra put her hand on her chest. “Why didn’t you? I’d have come over and helped him stand watch.”
“I doubt Mark would’ve thought too much of that.” Myra was dating private investigator Mark Thompson.
“What Mark don’t know won’t hurt him. Now Ben might be another story.”
“Will you two just hush?” China teased. “I’m the single lady around here. And I can shoot. If anybody needs to help Officer Good-lookin’ stand guard, it’s me.”
We all laughed. I went into the kitchen and cut each of us a brownie.
“We might as well enjoy this batch,” I said. “I’ll give you guys some of them, and I’ll take the rest to Violet’s house with me. I’m going to stay there tonight so I can catch up on my baking.”
“To catch up on your baking or because you’re afraid Todd’ll come back?” Myra asked.
“Both,” I said. My throat was constricted, my nose was running, and tears were coursing down my cheeks. I could barely breathe. I nodded again.
Todd loosened his grip. “Look at me.”
I didn’t want to. I’d been trying for years to forget that face…those merciless, accusing hazel eyes…the thin lips always ready to curl into a snarl or a smirk.
CHAPTER FOUR
On the drive to Violet’s house, I called Ben. The call went to voicemail—as I’d expected, since he was in Asheville, North Carolina for some sort of newspaper conference. I left him a brief message telling him that my oven wasn’t working and that I was going to spend the night at Vi’s house to get caught up on my baking. I didn’t tell him about Todd’s visit. That was something one didn’t just spill in a voicemail message.
When I got to my sister’s house, she came out and carried in my overnight bag so I could wrestle the box of baking supplies from the car. She put the bag in the guest room and then returned to the kitchen.
“What time will Lucas and Leslie be home?” I asked.
She glanced at the clock which hung on the wall over the sink. “They should be here in half an hour or so.”
“Good. I’m looking forward to seeing them. Not that I’m not happy to see you. It’s just that their energy will be a breath of fresh air for me after the day I’ve had.”
“Sit down and talk a minute.” Violet went over to the kitchen table. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, I’m fine.” Still, I joined her at the table.
“Are you all right?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
“Are you really? I know what a shock seeing Todd must’ve been for you. It was a shock for me!”
“It was. I was caught so off guard.” I looked down at the wood grain of the table and traced a line with my fingertip. “I guess that somewhere buried deep in my subconscious, I knew Todd’s sentence was about up. But I never thought he’d come here.”
“And I never thought he’d come here. He said he wanted to get to know Leslie and Lucas again.” She blew out a breath. “Hello? He never knew them in the first place. He never wanted anything to do with them before.”
“I know. I’m sorry he came to your house. He shouldn’t have. I guess it was another tool in his arsenal to get to me.”
“I spoke with Jason right after I made Todd leave. He said he was going to call the prison and see if coming here to Brea Ridge was in violation of any terms of Todd’s parole. He did cross the state border after all.”
I raised my head. “Have you heard back from him?”
“Not yet. But he’ll let us know what he finds out as soon as he knows something.”
“I cannot believe Mom gave him my address!” I said. “Oh, wait. Yes, I can. It’s Mom. She thought I’d driven him to take a shot at me, remember?”
“I don’t think she truly believed that, Daph. She was just trying to give Todd the benefit of the doubt. I’ll call her later and get her side of the story.”
“Better you than me.”
We heard the bus pull up outside.
“That’s the church bus dropping off the kids,” Violet said.
Seconds later, the twin tornadoes tore through the kitchen.
“I’m starving!” Lucas called before he saw that I was there.
“Aunt Daphne!” Leslie launched herself into my arms.
After we’d hugged, Lucas put his arms around me and tried to pick me up. He succeeded in knocking me slightly off balance.
“It won’t be long,” I told him. “You’re getting really strong.”
“I know. I’ve been lifting weights.”
“I can tell.”
“What’re you doing here?” Leslie asked.
“My oven is on the fritz, so I’m spending the night here to catch up on my baking…if that’s all right with you guys.”
They both cheered.
“Let me fix you a snack, and then you’ll need to be quiet while Aunt Daphne calls the repairman,” Violet said.
“Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten about that.” I got out my cell phone and the number Myra had given me while my sister gave each of the children some apple slices and tablespoon of peanut butter.
I punched in Mr. Haynes’ number. Within seconds, a voice croaked, “Yeah.”
“Mr. Haynes?”
“Yeah!”
“My name is Daphne Martin, and I’d like you to take a look at my oven. Myra Jenkins gave me your number. She says you’re the best around.”
“Address?”
I gave him my address.
“Be there at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. If you ain’t there, I’ll leave. Won’t be back either.”
“Oh, I’ll be there,” I said. “I’ll look forward to seeing you.”
Mr. Haynes hung up.
“What a sweetheart.” I put my phone away and told the kids how brusque the man had been. Then the three of us had a blast pretending that McElroy Haynes was “the oven troll” and that he’d make me prepare cookies or a cake or some other baked goods for him once a week for the rest of my life in order to keep my oven in working order.
Violet even joined in the fun, suggesting that Mr. Haynes wasn’t a troll but rather an elf. “Maybe he lives in an elm tree and makes cookies himself.”
Lucas and Leslie preferred him to be a troll. I agreed. Especially after hearing him speak. Elves had a nicer predisposition than trolls, right?
“Before I dive into my baking, what were you planning to make for dinner?” I asked Violet.
“I hadn’t really given it much thought yet.”
“Then, since I’m commandeering your oven, why don’t you let me order pizza and breadsticks?”
“That sounds good,” she said. “We’ll call it in, and I’ll have Jason pick it up on the way.”
“Wha
t’re you baking, Aunt Daphne?” Leslie asked.
“Brownies and cookies. Hopefully, I’ll have my oven back in time to use it to bake my cakes tomorrow.”
“Brownies, eh? Somebody’ll need to taste test those for sure,” Lucas said.
“Lucas.” His mother gave him a half serious frown.
“No, he’s absolutely right.” I neglected to tell him before dinner that I already had some set aside for the family. “I can’t take brownies to the Save-A-Buck unless they’ve been through the quality control test. My reputation is on the line here.”
“Exactly.” He gave me a smug smile. “She’s never used your oven before, Mom, and they all heat differently.”
I decided then and there that he was going to grow up to be either a politician or a lawyer. Possibly both.
Once we’d gotten the pizza order all squared away, I got started on my second batch of brownies of the day. I should’ve been done with them hours ago. And about half the cookies too, for that matter. But the day hadn’t turned out as I’d expected in the least.
Leslie was delighted to be able to help mix up the chocolate chip cookie dough while the brownies were baking. She had a real love of baking and cake decorating too. She’d even won first place in the junior category at a recent cake decorating competition held here in Brea Ridge.
Todd and the drama that had followed him into town seemed like it was miles away. For a while anyway.
* * *
When Jason got home, he put the pizza and breadstick boxes on the kitchen table, kissed his wife and kids, and then gave me a hug.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I nodded. “I’m fine. Or at least, I will be.”
“Yeah, the guy is coming to fix her oven at ten in the morning,” Leslie said.
“But if she’s not there when he gets there, he’s leaving,” Lucas chimed in. “And he ain’t coming back.”
I laughed. “They know all about it.”
“It sounds like it.” Jason lowered his voice. “We’re here for you. You know that.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Yeah, Aunt Daphne. You can use our oven anytime,” said Leslie.
Jason winked. He was a good-looking guy—red hair, blue eyes. When he and Violet were dating, I’d teased him by calling him Richie Cunningham. In turn, he’d called me Joanie. And he’d always treated me like a sister. Vi and I were both lucky to have him. It went without saying how fortunate the kids were to have him for a dad.