Christina Freeburn - Faith Hunter 03 - Embellished to Death

by Christina Freeburn

“Let me help.” Steve took the bed remote and raised the head of the bed.

  Once I was upright, I saw Garrison, Bob and Ted standing in the corner of the room. Now I was glad Steve didn’t offer a more intense expression of his feelings. I preferred private rather than public displays of affection.

  “Do my grandmothers know?” I twirled my fingers into the blanket.

  “Yes. We made Ted call them.” Bob elbowed his brother.

  “I thought Steve should’ve,” Ted said. “But Garrison and Bob thought they’d be even angrier that Steve was torn away from you when I was here. They are on their way. Bobbie-Annie is driving them. They’re too angry to drive was the reason I heard.”

  I groaned. Hospital bed or not, they were so going to give me a lecture. They warned me about getting involved in murders, but at least this time I could say I was saving my man. They’d understand that. “I’m going to get the scolding of a lifetime.”

  “As you should.” Ted crossed his arms and stared down at me.

  I glared at him.

  Bob stood behind Garrison and wrapped his arms around him. He kissed Garrison on the check. “We’ll have my man talk to them. He’s good with grandmothers.”

  Garrison hooked his hands around Bob’s. “That’s because I talk directly to grandmothers in a normal voice. Not like they’re toddlers or deaf and need an interpreter.”

  “Cheryl and Hope will love you then. They’re going to insist you come over for dinner. Just tell them you live in Morgantown and it’ll be too far,” I said.

  Garrison grinned. “That depends on how they cook. I’m willing to travel a bit to get a five-star home cooked meal.”

  “Poor you never gets a great meal. Next year, you can cook all the holiday meals,” Bob said.

  “I said five-star not great. I always get a great meal. Five-star home-cooked meal doesn’t come around often.”

  “True.” Bob sent me a beseeching look. “Think I can wrangle an invite also?”

  “Depends on their mood.”

  “Might not be a five-star cook, but I can do some serious landscaping,” Bob said.

  “Steve does that.”

  “I do yard work, not land—” Steve gripped the bedrail, his body rigid.

  “Is that her?” A distinguished-looking bald man stepped toward me. He bent at the waist and looked at me.

  Steve slid to the left, blocking me from the man’s eyes. “I want you to leave.”

  “Please, son.” The man put a hand on Steve’s arm.

  He pushed it off.

  “Need me to escort this guy out of here?” Ted retrieved his badge from a pocket and clipped it to his shirt.

  “Let me say what I need to and then I’ll leave.” Steve’s father put his hands into his pockets. “I promise.”

  “Why should I hear you out?” Steve tightened his hold on the rail, his knuckles turned white.

  I twined my fingers through his.

  “Because it kills me to know I could’ve lost you without making things right.”

  “I thought that was my job.” Steve crossed his arms. “Everything was my fault. Mine to fix.”

  The man sighed and rubbed a hand over his head. “I was wrong. It’s mine. I betrayed you.”

  “We’ll be out there.” Ted pointed out the door. The Rogets and Garrison stepped outside.

  “I don’t even care anymore. I don’t expect anything from you. You knew they hired Ware to strong-arm Faith, and then you hired Valerie after finding out I had her talk to Frank and Janice. You could’ve warned me yesterday.” Steve looked back at me, tears filled his eyes. “It’s unforgiveable.”

  “I wanted to protect you. That’s why I sent her.”

  “You should’ve sent her to protect Faith and not me. It’s too late to pretend you care.” Steve’s voice tightened with pain. “You married Evelyn pretty much after my mom died. I told you it hurt too much. You didn’t care. I showed you the proof on Adam and asked you to come with me when I told them.”

  “I know, son. And I turned you away. I didn’t want to see my sister’s pain. I didn’t want to see her heart break.”

  “But you could break mine.”

  Steve’s father put his hand into his pocket, drew out a small velvet box, and presented it to me. “This was meant for you.”

  Steve stared at it. “Where… where…”

  “I had Valerie take it from your room.”

  “You had no right. Mom gave it to me.” Steve clenched his hands.

  “I know. I was afraid Faith would hurt you. The only person’s behavior I should’ve been monitoring was my own.” Steve’s dad continued to hold the box out.

  I tucked my hands under the cover. I didn’t want to accept a gift this way, especially one that came in a small jewelry box.

  A stony expression settled onto Steve’s face.

  “Thank you, Faith, for saving my son’s life.” He placed the box on the bed tray.

  “I really didn’t do much,” I said.

  “More than I ever did for him.” Steve’s father turned to leave then paused. “I’m sorry I hurt you Steve. And I’m sorry I didn’t stand up for you and try to reason with Janice and Frank when they refused to listen to you about Adam. I took the coward’s way out. I was fierce in the courtroom for my clients, but when it came to you and your mom, I was never strong enough.”

  Steve sat on the edge of the chair near the bed. I scooted forward and rubbed his back.

  “You believed me about Adam.” Steve looked into his father’s eyes.

  His dad nodded. “Janice and Frank always saw Adam as the perfect child. The boys-will-be-boys type of child. Your mom hovered whenever Adam was over. I told her she should pull back a little. Then I noticed Evelyn did the same thing with Rick. She’d never leave the two of them alone. She said something wasn’t quite right. She mentioned that most of the accidents and mishaps occurred when Adam was over. I had heard the same comments from your mom about Adam’s behavior when you were little.”

  Steve braced his arm on the bed and rubbed his eyes. “They always knew about your other family.”

  His father’s shoulders slumped forward. “I thought it was important that Rick get to know his cousin. I really couldn’t explain to him about his brother.”

  “No. I suppose you couldn’t.” Steve looked at me. He trailed his finger down my cheek.

  I leaned into the touch.

  “Faith needs her rest. You should go,” Steve said.

  “We can talk later.” There was hope in his father’s voice.

  “You should go,” Steve said with barely any emotion.

  “I am sorry. I hired Valerie… Violet… to keep an eye on things. I knew the reputation of the man Janice and Frank hired and didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  “No. You didn’t want me to get hurt. You didn’t care if Faith did.”

  His father didn’t respond.

  “If you wanted to help me so much, why wouldn’t you assist Bob when I asked?”

  “Because as long as I didn’t face my sins, I could forget I had them. I can pretend with everyone else but not you, Steve. I see the pain I caused every time I look at you. I shamed your mother and broke her heart. I did the same to you. And I don’t know how to fix it.”

  I looked into the eyes of a broken and remorseful man.

  “I hope your recovery is fast, Faith. I’m sorry for the pain my nephew caused you. I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

  I squeezed Steve’s hand. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “I owe a lot to many and hope one day I can right what I can.” Steve’s father held the door open for a few moments and looked at his son.

  Steve refused to look at him.

  Without another word, he close
d the door.

  “I need to go for a walk.” Steve shoved his hands into his pockets, and with head lowered walked out.

  My heart broke for him. Maybe Steve went to talk to his father, give the man a little hope their relationship could be worked out.

  While part of me wanted to scream at Steve, focus on his dishonesty and end our relationship, I knew in my heart that while his decision tore at my heart now, my decision back then would’ve destroyed my grandmothers. If I’d have known my neighbor was related to my ex-husband I would have run away. I’d have left Eden without telling my grandmothers why or goodbye. He saved me from making an even worse choice than marrying Adam—abandoning my grandmothers. I owed Steve for that, but I wasn’t sure if it was enough.

  Or if it even should be.

  Someone tapped on the door.

  “Come in,” I said.

  Ted stuck his head inside the room. “Grandmas should be arriving soon.”

  I’d send Hope to talk to Steve. If anyone could give him the tender family love he needed right now, it was her. Later, we could send Cheryl after his father if necessary. I had a feeling, though, that the man was changing his ways. I prayed Steve gave him a chance for his own sake.

  Ted tipped my chin up. “Steve will be all right. He can handle it. And so will you.”

  “Handle his dad? There’s no reason I need to be involved with his dad.”

  Ted nodded at the small box on the bed tray. “If you guys get married you will.”

  “I don’t think there’s going to be a wedding.”

  “This weekend has put you and Steve through the wringer. You need time to sort everything out and recover.”

  I dug my fingers into the covers. “This issue can’t be sorted out.”

  Ted sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m sure that’s not the truth.”

  “Steve is Adam’s cousin,” I blurted. Ted didn’t look shocked. “You know.”

  “It came up in the investigation.”

  So, that was what Detective Bell talked to Steve about, and Ted didn’t want to tell me.

  “Give it time. Don’t make any life altering decisions today.”

  “Time hasn’t helped me so far. I thought all this time I was living past those horrific moments of my life. I was so proud of that. I lied to myself. My marriage, and the reason for the divorce, defined everything. Became who I was.” I touched the edge of the bandage encasing my forearm. “I don’t want to do that anymore. I want more. I don’t know how I can achieve it with Steve. Adam will always be lurking.”

  “You and Steve are going to get through this.” Ted adjusted the covers over me.

  I hunkered farther in the bed, working on looking pathetic when my grandmothers charged in. “Is that a question or statement?”

  Ted tapped his chest. “As much as it pains me, it’s a fact.”

  “Faith Louisa Hunter!” Grandma Cheryl’s voice entered the room before her.

  Ted grinned.

  “Louisa is a perfectly fine name,” I said.

  He held up his hands like I was robbing him. “I am not a man who should ever mock a middle name.”

  “What’s yours?”

  Shaking his head, Ted slipped out of the room as my grandmothers barreled in.

  I yanked the covers over my head.

  “You think I won’t find you?”

  In a way, I heard Cheryl planting her hands on her hips. Pretty soon the scolding finger would start waggling. I knew my grandmothers’ tones well.

  Hope squealed and clapped her hands.

  I dropped my protective barrier. Her gaze was on the bed tray.

  Oh no! I left the velvet box on the bed tray. They thought Steve and I were engaged.

  Cheryl beamed.

  “We’re not getting married.” I hated wiping the joy from their faces.

  “You told Steve no?” Hope gaped at me.

  Cheryl rushed over to the bed, reaching for the call button. “Our granddaughter has a head injury!”

  I stalled her hand. “There’s nothing wrong with my head. Steve and I have discovered a complication in our relationship. It’s what I’ve been keeping a secret from you since I was stationed in Germany.”

  Grandma Cheryl scooted onto the bed.

  “Did you shack up with someone?” Cheryl tucked me against her.

  “It’s worse than that.”

  Hope shuffled to the other side of the bed then joined us. She cocooned me in her arms.

  I felt protected snuggled between my grandmothers. Nothing would be allowed to hurt me now. Tears tumbled down my cheeks.

  Cheryl wiped them away with her hands. “Whatever it is, we love you and will support you. Even if it’s you don’t want to marry Steve.”

  “We think he’s perfect for you,” Hope said. “But if you don’t that’s okay. There are other men.”

  “Someone will marry you.” Cheryl rubbed my hand.

  “Someone did.” I launched into the truth. “I thought he loved me, and later found out he wanted a scapegoat. Someone to blame for his crimes. I almost went to prison because of him.”

  Cheryl’s eyes widened. “For what?”

  “Murder.”

  Hope gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.

  Cheryl cupped one hand around her best friend’s hands, and the other one stroked my cheek. “The police knew it was nonsense. You’re here and he’s in jail. Or dead.”

  “Prison,” I said.

  “As he should be.” Hope patted my hand. “If you’ve kept this from because of what other people would think—”

  “What other people would say,” I corrected.

  Cheryl waved off my concern. “Whoever talks ugly about you isn’t worth our time and attention.”

  “You love Eden. Our community.”

  “Not more than you,” Hope said.

  “We’ll move.” Cheryl dusted off her hands. “Easy peasy. Nothing comes before our granddaughter.”

  “Absolutely.” Hope hooked her fingers through mine. “But what does this have to do with Steve?”

  “He’s the cousin of my ex-husband.”

  “That does change things,” Grandma Cheryl said.

  “It does.” Hope turned my face toward hers and touched her forehead to mine. “But how it changes is up to you, baby girl.”

  Right now, my heart and head were warring so much I had no clue on what I needed to do. What I wanted to do was talk to Ted. Lean on him while I sorted it all out. I didn’t know if that was the start of finding a solution, or another problem.

  Faith’s Scrapbooking Tips

  HOSTING A CROP

  Crops are a great way for scrapbookers to have uninterrupted time to work on their albums, hang out with friends, and meet new ones. The crops I’ve hosted, and now vended at, have ranged from six hours to a long weekend. Crops can be held in scrapbook stores, hotels, community centers, homes…well anywhere where a large group of scrapbookers can haul their supplies.

  Here is my list of the five most important factors for retreats:

  1. Location. Location. Location. Just like when purchasing a home, the location is the most important detail for picking a venue. The cropping area needs to be near hotels (if not holding it at one) for those traveling a distance from home. There should also be restaurants nearby, ample parking, and a ground floor entrance and exit. Stairs will make it difficult for some attendees to get their totes insides, so avoid buildings with any amount of steps leading inside, unless you have some hired or volunteer help to carry in bags.

  2. Lighting. Croppers will forgive and forget a lot of things, but poor lighting, with no ability to use portable lamps, will have attendees going elsewhere. It’s hard to find venues with the perfect lighting s
ituation for scrapbooking, so ask if the venue has large outlet-extension cords available for use. Also, let your attendees know to bring their own personal extension cords and table lamps for their workspace.

  3. Cropping Space. If one thing will break a crop, it’s the lack of table space or poor seating arrangements. Trust me. Nothing causes drama like placing two rivals right beside each other at a crop. If someone adds a note on who they don’t want to sit by, it’s best to heed it. Also, some croppers are table hogs so the more space you give a cropper the better. The preferred amount is six-feet of table space per cropper. This can be done by using twelve-foot tables, and allowing the croppers to set up their own table boundaries through arranging their supplies. Or put two six-feet tables side-by-side. I prefer the latter as there’s a pre-determined boundary and you won’t have to go hunt down a tape measure to settle any squabbles.

  4. Ambience. Music, or rather the lack of, is important for many scrapbookers. Taste in music is so personal it’s better not to use a sound system and predetermine the crop “soundtrack.” Allow croppers to listen to their phones, iPods, mp3 players, etc. and choose their own groove for cropping.

  5. Games and entertainment. This is a hotly debated topic among scrapbookers of all ages. Some love games, drawings and other entertainment; others loathe it as much as the Grinch does Christmas. Keep games and drawing to a minimum so the attendees’ cropping flow isn’t interrupted often, thereby taking away too much time from making layouts. The games that are planned should be fun for those that want to participate, but not a nuisance to those who want to continue working on pages. For big prize drawings, it’s best to do them at a set time so those who participated can be there to listen out for their name. Croppers love hearing their name called!

  Wait…there’s a sixth one. Food. One cannot have a great crop without having plenty of snacks available throughout the day. Well-fed croppers are happy croppers, and that means having plenty of chocolate.

  About the Author

  The Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery series brings together Christina Freeburn’s love of mysteries, scrapbooking, and West Virginia. When not writing or reading, she can be found in her scrapbook room or at a crop. Alas, none of the real-life crops have had a sexy male prosecutor or a handsome police officer attending.