I headed toward the darkness of my front door. As soon as I fed Henry, I could go to Paula’s, hang out, visit with Zach. Or I could go over and knock on Fred’s door, see if his blackout shades were drawn and he was working or if he and Sophie were over there in the darkness doing what people do in the darkness.
Not that I was trying to avoid my own home. I just felt certain Paula would want to know about Rick’s condition, and I needed to talk to Fred, tell him about my epiphany that Rick hadn’t been leaving the gifts. Judging from the meticulous way he’d collected the wrapping paper and note card, he probably already suspected that. If he found fingerprints, he might know it for certain. Maybe he’d researched the fingerprint database and already knew who my stalker was. A visit to Fred was definitely in order.
Okay, to be honest, I felt creepy about going into my house. Having Rickhead around the last couple of years, spying on me, popping up at odd moments such as in my shower when he was supposed to be dead had been freaky enough. Knowing somebody was watching me and coming onto my porch while I slept in the room above with my window open was every bit as unnerving as the time people kept breaking into my basement.
I straightened my spine and resolved not to let some sicko make me scared of my own home. I opened the front door and Henry dashed out, gave me one head butt, then turned and stalked toward the kitchen. I was late and he was hungry. My fears abated. Henry’s calm demeanor told me no intruder was in the house or on the porch.
I dropped my purse on the coffee table and went straight to the kitchen.
He sat beside his empty bowl, looking at me accusingly.
I retrieved his dry food from the pantry and filled his bowl then added a dollop of smelly canned food as a treat since he’d had to wait so long.
As soon as I set it on the floor, he dove in.
I got out a chunk of cheese and some crackers then sat down at the table and made dinner conversation. “Remember Rickhead, the guy you don’t like? Well, he almost got killed.”
Henry continued to eat noisily, but I knew from his occasional snort that he was listening. I told him all about Rick and his new girlfriend.
“No idea what she sees in him. Maybe her friends dared her to find the lowest piece of pond scum around and date him.”
“Anlinny!”
I screamed and whirled at the sound of a voice behind me. For an instant my heart tried to climb into my throat, but in the next instant it went back down where it belonged. Only one person calls me Anlinny, kid-speak for Aunt Lindsay. Paula’s three year old son, Zach.
The boy hurled himself at me and grabbed me around the leg. “You got cookies?”
With a hand that shook only slightly, I tousled his soft blond hair. “For you, I can probably find a few. They may be old and moldy.”
“Okay.” He released me and petted Henry who continued to eat.
Paula came into the room. “I’m sorry. Zach was so eager to see you, he ran ahead. Apparently your door was unlocked so he invited himself in.”
“I left my front door unlocked? Oh, great!” I started for the living room, but Paula stopped me.
“I locked it. I tried to turn on your porch light too, but it’s burned out.”
“I’ll replace the bulb.” I definitely wanted to do that. I’d leave it on all night and hope the light would be a deterrent to anyone sneaking onto my property.
Paula held up a bottle of white wine. “I thought you might be upset so I brought some comfort.”
“Bless you! You grab the glasses, and I’ll get some cookies and juice for Zach.”
I found a chocolate chip cookie and handed it to Zach along with a glass of white grape juice.
“Is my cookie moldy?” he asked.
“Of course.” It wasn’t.
He smiled and accepted the cookie and juice. “My wine?”
“Yep. Try not to get too drunk. You’re the designated driver.”
He nodded solemnly. “Okay.”
Paula stood at the counter, uncorking the real bottle of wine. “Sit at the table so you don’t spill your drink on the floor.”
I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or Zach, but he obediently took a seat at my kitchen table.
Paula poured the wine and we took seats at the table on each side of Zach. I lifted my glass and drank half of it in one gulp.
“That bad, huh?” Paula asked.
I nodded.
Paula sipped her wine. “I was afraid it would be. You’re not as tough as you pretend to be.”
I frowned. “Am too.” I lifted my glass for another gulp.
Paula laughed softly. “I just meant that it’s normal to be upset when you realize somebody you once loved almost died.”
I choked on my wine, spit some on the table and went into a laughing, coughing fit.
Paula grabbed a napkin and cleaned the table. “Are you okay?”
I cleared my throat and wiped tears from my eyes. “You think I’m freaked out because Rickhead almost got killed? Were you upset when they hauled David off to prison?”
“That’s different. He tried to take Zach, have me sent to prison, and kill you. I hated him for a long time before I escaped from him. But when you and Rick first split up, you were…um…distraught about the separation.”
I took another sip of wine. “That’s the thing about long-time friends. You remember things I’d rather forget. Well, it’s been quite a while since I’ve been distraught.”
“So Rick’s not the reason you just drank half a glass of wine without tasting it?”
“In a way, but not the way you’re thinking.” I told her about Rick’s new girlfriend and the fact that it was unlikely he’d left the crystal butterfly on my porch. “If we assume the same person left all the gifts and stupid poems, it would seem I have a secret admirer, aka a stalker.”
Paula shuddered. “And you left your front door unlocked tonight.”
“Henry met me, hungry but not excited the way he gets when somebody comes around who shouldn’t be here. Besides, I don’t obsess about locking my door. This is usually such a safe neighborhood.”
“Sure, except for the time my ex-husband tried to kill you in your own living room, and the time Tiger Lily almost murdered you in your bedroom. And how about Jay Jamison breaking into Sophie’s house and almost killing you?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I plan to be very careful about locking all my doors from now on.”
“Why don’t you and Henry come over and spend the night with us?”
“Oboy! Can Henry come to my house?” Zach asked.
“Sometime,” I replied.
“Can I have another moldy cookie?”
“Sometime,” Paula said. She set her glass on the table and rose. “Young man, you need to go to bed.”
Zach’s blue eyes twinkled as he looked up at his mother. “Sometime.”
Paula grinned. “Sometime comes in fifteen minutes. Up!” She turned to me. “Coming with us?”
“Thanks, but I don’t think so. As long as Henry’s here, I’ll be fine.”
“At least call Trent and Fred and tell them.”
“I think Fred already knows. Last night he took the note and wrapping paper home with him. It’s possible he was just being tidy, but I think he knew the gifts weren’t coming from Rick.”
She nodded. “If Fred knows, I won’t worry about you. He’ll keep watch. Probably has a camera trained on your front porch right now.”
I made a mental note not to go outside naked.
Henry accompanied us to the door and strolled out into the night, searching for fun and adventure as well as gifts for me. “Hurry back,” I called after his ghostly form. He swished his tail. I interpreted that as agreement.
Paula looked up at my dark porch light. “Don’t forget to change the bulb. Now, while I’m still here.”
“You’re awfully bossy.” I reached up to unscrew the old bulb. It was loose. I screwed it in, turned on the switch, and the light came on.
I looked at Paula.
She looked at me. “Someone loosened your light bulb so it wouldn’t work. So he could hide in the dark.”
I swallowed hard. “We don’t know that. Maybe it came loose on its own. Maybe it’s been slowly coming loose for some time and finally reached the critical point today.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come home with us?”
“Henry wants to come home with me.” Zach’s voice was sleepy and he leaned against his mother’s leg.
I ruffled his hair. “Had too much wine, didn’t you, Hot Shot?”
“Uh huh,” he mumbled.
“I’ll be fine. Thank you for coming over.” I hugged Paula. “That’s another thing about long-time friends. You know when I need you.”
“Hug, Anlinny.” Zach’s eyelids drooped as he lifted his arms to me.
I reached down and picked him up. “You better ease up on the moldy cookies or soon I won’t be able to lift you.”
He giggled, wrapped his arms around my neck and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Anlinny.”
I kissed his forehead. “Love you back.”
I watched until Paula and Zach were inside their house with the door closed. Paula had three locks on her front door. Perhaps I should follow her example.
With the porch light on, I felt as if I were standing in the spotlight, easily visible to whoever was out there. I turned it off.
The cloudy, moonless night wrapped its darkness around me. Maybe I should have gone home with Paula. I suddenly felt very alone and vulnerable.
“Henry!”
I saw no sign of my cat. The only movement was a dark sedan turning onto my street a few blocks away, its headlights spearing through the darkness toward me.
“Henry! Come here! Now!” I tried to control my voice, tried not to freak out just because a car was driving down my street. My neighbors could be coming home after going to a movie. Or they could have visitors. I wasn’t the only person who lived on that street.
The sedan came closer.
I held my breath, waiting for it to stop in front of somebody else’s house.
Like a ghost in the darkness, Henry sauntered over from Fred’s yard. The two of them pretended they didn’t like each other, but it wouldn’t have surprised me to find they were meeting in secret.
“Do you think you could move a little faster?” The sedan was a block away and, against all reason, I was starting to panic.
Apparently Henry did not think he needed to move any faster. I knew he could because I’d seen him streak across the yard when he was hungry. That night he moseyed.
The sedan came to a stop in front of my house.
Was this my stalker? Was he going to leave something on my porch? Could he not see me in the dark? Maybe I should turn on the porch light. But if he saw me, what would he do?
Funny how the night was no longer chilly. I was beginning to perspire.
Henry leapt onto my porch like a graceful, unhurried ballerina.
I held the screen door open. “Inside. Now.”
He strolled casually, obviously not feeling my sense of urgency. That was a good thing, probably meant the car held no danger.
Even so, I wanted to get in the house and lock the door.
“Hurry.” I almost stepped on Henry’s tail in my eagerness to get inside.
A car door slammed. My heart stuttered then went into overdrive.
I reached down to give Henry’s fuzzy rear a push so I could get far enough in to close the door.
“Lindsay!”
For an instant I couldn’t breathe. For an instant I wondered if Henry had gone senile and would no longer warn me about threats.
But I knew that voice. I spun around. Trent strode up the sidewalk, resplendent in faded blue jeans, sports coat and a big smile.
I stepped back outside. “Hi.” I tried to sound calm, as if I hadn’t just been planning to barricade myself in the house. “You gave me a start. Where’d you get that ugly car?”
“It’s the department’s. I was working late tonight and needed to be inconspicuous.”
As if his regular car, a newer model black sedan, was conspicuous.
He stepped onto the porch and handed me a gold box. Godiva chocolates. “I thought you might need some chocolate you didn’t have to make.”
I accepted the box, threw my arms around him and held on tight. I didn’t want to seem needy, so I pulled back much sooner than I wanted to.
“Can we continue this inside?” I asked. “The neighbors get so uptight when we have sex on the front porch.”
He grinned. “How about the back porch?”
“That’ll work.”
I led him inside, closed and locked the door behind us. Even with a cop on the premises, I didn’t want to take any chances.
“Coke? Wine? Beer? Coffee?”
Trent sank onto the sofa and made a face. “You make the worst coffee I’ve ever tasted, and I’m driving so alcohol is out. How about a glass of water and a cookie?”
“I have some moldy chocolate chip cookies.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Private joke between Zach and me. I have cookies and water.”
I set the Godiva box on the coffee table and went to the kitchen where I found Henry begging for catnip. He’s addicted, but who am I to talk? I can’t imagine going through a day without chocolate and Cokes. “Tonight you need to be alert and protect me.” However, thinking about my chocolate and Coke addictions, I gave him a tiny amount. Wouldn’t want him to go into withdrawal.
I got a bottle of water for Trent, a Coke for me and a plate of cookies then went back to the living room.
“How are you doing?” Trent asked softly as I handed him the water and a cookie.
I hadn’t told him anything about my personal Santa Claus, so he must be talking about Rick. Good grief.
I sat beside him, opened the gold box and selected the Dark Ganache Heart. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?” I slid the candy into my mouth and savored the dark, smooth chocolate. A fresh box of Godiva chocolates and Trent beside me. Life was good.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Why? Well, let’s see. Last night your ex-husband was almost killed. Your friend was murdered in the alley behind your restaurant. Your ex-husband’s ex-girlfriend was murdered in front of his house and you’re a person of interest. Most people would find that upsetting.”
“I am upset about Bob and a little bit about Ginger. Have you figured out who killed either of them yet?”
I selected another candy and offered the box to Trent but he smiled and took another cookie. “I like the chocolates my girlfriend makes better than the store bought stuff.”
“Aw, that’s sweet. Now answer my question. Who killed Bob and Ginger?”
He munched on his cookie.
I popped open my Coke with a loud snap. “Oh, for crying out loud! Do not give me that business about not being able to talk about an ongoing investigation. I just want to know what I’d hear on the ten o’clock news if I watched the ten o’clock news, which I don’t. But I can always Google it if you keep holding out on me.”
“That’s not what I was going to say, but it does apply.” He leaned back on the sofa and focused on the label on his bottle of water, avoiding my eyes. “The investigation of Bob’s death has reached a dead end.”
“Did you talk to Kenneth Wilson?”
He lifted his gaze to mine and frowned. “Yeah, I did. We just uncovered that connection today. How did you know—oh, Fred.”
“He looks guilty to me. Kenneth, not Fred.”
“Kenneth Wilson has an alibi. His wife swears he was with her all night.”
I snorted. “She’s so scared of him, she’d say he was with her the day she was born if he told her to.”
Trent nodded. “I know. But we have no evidence that points to him. I’m sorry, but unless a new lead turns up, we don’t have anything to investigate. The case has gone cold.”
“If he’d been a rich execut
ive, you wouldn’t stop looking for his killer.”
“If we ran out of leads, we would.”
I thumped my can of Coke down on the coffee table. “Fred and I aren’t going to stop.”
Trent’s lips tightened. “I really wish you’d back off and let us handle things.”
“I would if you were handling things, but you’re not. You just said you don’t have any leads on Bob’s case.”
“Because we don’t. Do you?”
I hate it when he uses logic against me. “I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation.”
He laughed. “Okay, let’s leave that subject and get back to talking about your ex-husband who was almost murdered, the man you went to visit in the hospital.”
“I think we’d better leave that subject too. You told me it was a bad idea to tell a cop I wanted to murder my ex-husband. How about we move on to the weather?”
“So you’re not the least bit upset that a man you once loved almost died? It’s normal if you are. It doesn’t bother me.”
“I’m not. I promise.”
“Really? I could have sworn from the desperate way you looked at me when I walked up and the way you held on while we were outside that you were a little stressed.”
“Well, maybe, sort of. Except not like you think. I’m upset because Rick didn’t leave the gifts for me.”
Trent looked confused. “You wanted Rick to leave you gifts?”
“No, of course not. I was angry with him for doing it except it wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been him. He was lying in his garage bleeding or maybe even in the ambulance on the way to the hospital when someone left the butterfly. That’s why I’m upset. I could care less if Rick lives or dies.” Trent looked as if he’d just watched an Akira Kurosawa movie without English dubbing.
“Maybe I better start at the beginning,” I said.
“That would be a good idea. And I think I’ll have a beer after all.”
I started to get up, but he put a hand on my arm. “Stay here. I know where the refrigerator is. Don’t go anywhere. Stay right here.”
Fatal Chocolate Obsession (Death by Chocolate Book 5) Page 11