Just a Breath Away

by Carlene Thompson

  ‘No wonder.’ Truman paused. ‘Honey, I want to run an idea by you.’

  ‘Something to do with March Vaden?’

  ‘I can’t think about March Vaden now. No, this is something about Eve. Last night police officers in her parents’ county let them know what had happened. They thought that when her body was released, the Daleys would want it returned to them as they’re her next of kin.’ Truman swallowed hard. ‘They didn’t want to claim the body.’

  ‘I knew they wouldn’t,’ Kelsey said dully.

  ‘I can’t even imagine people like that, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t have any family. We are her family, and I’d like for her to be buried with us.’

  The Marches and the Vadens had adjoining cemetery plots. Her mother, her sister and her maternal and paternal grandparents all rested beside each other in the beautiful cemetery not far from the March home. Kelsey felt tears rise in her eyes. ‘Dad, that’s so sweet of you! Are you sure it would be OK with everyone else?’

  ‘We can’t ask the current residents, honey.’ Kelsey immediately felt silly. ‘But if your March grandparents had known Eve, I’m certain it would have been fine with them. It certainly would be with the Vadens and your mother. They would have said Eve belonged with her Kentucky family, not those people in Pennsylvania. And Lorelei loved her. So did you and I.’ Tears rolled down Kelsey’s face. ‘I’ll handle all expenses, of course. You can choose the kind of service she would have wanted.’

  ‘Oh, thank you, Dad. I’ve been upset about this all day. Even if her parents would have allowed her to be buried in their cemetery, I know she wouldn’t have wanted that.’ She took a deep breath. ‘When will the police release her body?’

  ‘I’m sure Pike will let me know within the next couple of days. In the meantime, I’ll let a few people know that Eve will be buried here.’

  A sob escaped Kelsey. ‘Oh, Daddy, I never dreamed I’d be saying something like that about Eve and I can’t help feeling responsible for her death. I know if she hadn’t been my friend, she wouldn’t be dead.’

  ‘You don’t know that, Kelsey and you did not murder her. You are in no way responsible for her death.’

  Kelsey didn’t answer. She knew her father was only trying to bolster her spirits, to make her stop blaming herself, but she did and she always would. Eve had been a victim of the dark, malignant presence that had boldly entered Kelsey’s life the night Vernon Nott killed Lori.

  At four o’clock Kelsey went into MG Interiors. Isaac was sitting behind his desk frowning at his computer screen. Kelsey couldn’t help thinking that the Dickens character Bob Cratchit must have looked the same way when studying his ledger. Nina had firmly planted the image in her mind.

  Nina rushed to Kelsey and hugged her. ‘How are you doing?’ she asked, drawing away and frowning at Kelsey’s face. ‘You’re so pale and you look tired.’

  ‘I didn’t get much sleep last night. I took a nap when I got back from police headquarters, but my sleep wasn’t restful. I’m OK, Nina.’

  ‘I’m not convinced that you’re OK, but I don’t have any suggestions about how to make yourself feel better besides drinking lots of liquor.’

  ‘And getting a hangover. No thanks. How has today gone?’

  ‘The Sandersons have called twice wanting to talk to you,’ Nina said. ‘They said they’re not certain they want to continue with the house. Their treasured project is now a crime scene. I told them that they don’t want to make a decision when they’re so shocked about what happened. I said that you understand and you’ll be glad to talk to them in a few days when you’ve straightened out the situation. I don’t know how you’d straighten out a murder, but I made it sound as if you’re in control of everything. I think I managed to settle them down, Kelsey, and I don’t believe they’ll be pursuing you again until next week.’

  ‘You’re a miracle worker, Nina.’ Nina beamed at the praise. ‘It’s so kind of you – and Isaac – to come in and handle everything for me.’

  ‘It’s our job,’ Nina said stoutly. ‘We’re happy to do it, aren’t we, Isaac?’

  Isaac’s small brown eyes appeared over the top of his computer monitor. ‘Yes, we are. Nina’s fielded all of the phone calls and the two people who’ve come in. I’m not good at those things. She’s very articulate and persuasive.’

  ‘He means I can talk people into a stupor,’ Nina said. ‘They back off in self-defense.’

  Isaac grinned before lowering his gaze. He didn’t smile often, and Kelsey was relieved to see that he and Nina were meshing even at this strange time.

  Kelsey told them that her father wanted to have Eve buried with the March and Vaden families. Nina abruptly burst into tears, declaring how very generous and thoughtful he was, how touched Stuart would be. And last, and most awkwardly, how appreciative Eve would have been. From the corner of her eye, Kelsey saw Isaac wince. ‘I don’t know what day the funeral will be, but I would like for the two of you to come,’ Kelsey ended.

  Nina turned to Isaac. ‘Of course we’ll be there, won’t we, Isaac?’ He nodded. Nina looked down at her large, pregnant belly. ‘I might bring my husband. I don’t like being so reliant on him, but given my condition … I’m now thirty-two weeks along. I know some women enjoy looking like this, but I don’t. My feet are so swollen I had to buy two pairs of shoes a size larger than normal.’

  ‘Nina, if you’re not feeling well—’

  ‘I’m perfectly fine. Well, I’ll be fine for at least a couple of weeks. Then I’m afraid I’ll have to admit defeat and stay home.’

  ‘You probably should begin your maternity leave next week, not in two weeks’ time.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Nina said vaguely, then she burst out, ‘Oh, guess what, Kelsey? I ate lunch at Conway’s and the sweet little waitress, Janet, told me she’s leaving!’

  ‘Just leaving her job or leaving Louisville, too?’

  ‘She said she’s going to Atlanta with her husband. He has a new job there. Wednesday will be her last day at Conway’s. I asked if she’d miss Louisville and she said yes, but maybe she needed a change. Rick Conway came up and said he didn’t know how Conway’s Tavern would get along without her. She blushed and looked really uncomfortable. That beautiful milky skin of hers was even whiter than usual – her freckles stood out like ink spots – and she seemed nervous. She was trembling and she had on a sweater although it’s nearly eighty degrees.’ Nina lowered her voice, although Isaac didn’t seem to be listening. ‘When the sweater sleeves pulled up, I knew why she was wearing it. She had a big bruise on her right arm near her wrist and a smaller one on her left forearm.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Kelsey said slowly. ‘Rick told me that her husband is abusive.’

  Nina’s eyes widened. ‘Physically? He must have given her the bruises. She probably has more. Maybe she doesn’t want to go to Atlanta with her husband.’

  ‘Rick said she’s afraid of him. He must be insisting she go with him and she can’t say no without getting some hard slaps and maybe a few punches. I wish I could help her, but I’m not close to her. I think Rick is like a big brother to her, but even he can’t help if she won’t let him.’ Kelsey sighed, thinking of the lovely petite girl with the big hazel eyes who’d been starstruck when she met Lori and seemed broken-hearted when Lori died. ‘I’ll miss Janet,’ Kelsey said softly. ‘I’ll miss her very much.’

  Later that day, Kelsey cleaned her apartment until it was spotless, reorganized her closet, and dusted all of her books on the shelves, trying to ignore Gatsby’s cushion on the fifth shelf, between Moby Dick and Anna Karenina. By evening, she was exhausted and lay down on the sofa, uninterested in watching television or reading. Instead she closed her eyes and let her mind wander over happy times in the past. Her sixteenth birthday party; her first visit to Lori in New York, Lori having already become a successful model at nineteen; the last Christmas before Grandmother Vaden’s death, when the entire family had gathered in the March’s lavishly decorated living room and basked i
n the glow of countless colorful lights while singing carols, both English and Swedish; outings to the Kentucky Derby at Churchill Downs with Grandmother Vaden and the March ladies wearing splendid hats as they watched the powerful horses run with sleek beauty … Now it was all gone. She could never have those experiences again. She had to be content with memories.

  Kelsey felt the tears coming and jumped up from the sofa, determined not to cry again. She paced the room that suddenly seemed hot and stale in spite of the air conditioning. She opened the window near the bookcase – the window overlooking the alley, which was shrouded in shadows. At least the air, once again threatening rain, smelled fresh. She took a deep breath, wandered back to the sofa, and picked up her beautifully bound copy of Brideshead Revisited, her mother’s favorite book.

  She was on the fifth page when she heard what sounded like singing. Her skin tingled. She stopped breathing, listening with all the acuity she possessed. Then she crept to the open window and ducked down, crouching on the floor as the singing continued.

  ‘War … it’s just a shot away …’

  It was the Rolling Stones song ‘Gimme Shelter’ – the song sung by the man who’d lingered beneath her open window and slowly smoked a cigarette. And the voice was the same.

  ‘Death … it’s just a breath away … Death, sister, it’s just a breath away … Just a breath away …’

  Abruptly the singing stopped. Then came a long, loud, plaintive meow – a meow that sounded like Gatsby’s. It came again and again, lonely and desperate as it floated up to the open window. Very slowly, Kelsey rose to her knees, peered down, and saw a cat carrier sitting in the middle of the alley. Nothing else. Only a cat carrier, left on the asphalt. The cat within wailed its melancholy panic.

  Gatsby! Someone had brought Gatsby back. But why? To lure her into the alley?

  Kelsey scooted away from the window. The man who’d sung ‘Gimme Shelter’ had brought her cat – the cat he took after killing Eve. And now, she mused darkly, he’s brought the cat back to me.

  I can’t go down there, Kelsey thought. I can’t. He wants me to come down. He thinks he can force me to abandon the light and safety of my apartment to fetch the cat I love.

  The cat wailed again, the meow sharp and frightened. Kelsey squeezed her eyes shut. She had to ignore the fearful cries. But what if Gatsby was hurt? What if she didn’t retrieve him and whoever had left him in the alley took him back and killed him because he’d been useless? She knew most people would say she was insane for even considering going after him.

  But Kelsey knew she wasn’t most people.

  She ran into her bedroom and pulled her fingerprint safety box from the second drawer of her bedside table. She placed her finger on the biometric sensor, opened the steel box, and looked at her Glock 26 handgun. Beside it lay a box of bullets. With shaking hands, she loaded the Glock’s magazine, pushed it into the gun, and rushed from her bedroom trying not to think of what she held – a weapon of death.

  As she passed near the window, she heard Gatsby emitting slow, rhythmic cries. She’d never heard him meow time after time without a break. He’d never been a bothersome cat given to annoying unrelenting vocal outbursts. Usually a couple of loud, sharp meows had got him what he wanted. He’d been lovingly spoiled ever since he was six weeks old.

  Kelsey unlocked and opened her apartment door and stepped out, taking a deep breath. Her gaze swept the alley twice. She saw only the cat carrier sitting beneath one of the alley’s few dim lights. Slowly she descended the steps, continually searching for a movement in the shadows as she firmly held the gun with both hands, keeping it pointed downward. When she reached the bottom of the metal stairway, her heart was pounding and sweat had popped out on her forehead.

  Something to her right rattled and she whipped around, gun raised, to see a cardboard fast-food cup skittering down the alley as the breeze carried it toward the main street – the main street that was unusually empty for this time of evening. Or was it always this way? MG Interiors faced the street, but she was rarely in the office past seven o’clock unless she was working on a rush job. She was certain Nina and Isaac had left promptly at five so now the business – her second home – was dark and empty. Suddenly she felt alone in the world, alone and scared.

  Gatsby let out another piercing meow. Kelsey turned back toward him, looking at the cat carrier sitting in the middle of the alley. ‘Gatsby?’ she called although she knew it was him. ‘Gatsby, I’m here.’

  His meows grew louder and more urgent. Come and get me, he seemed to be saying. Don’t leave me here!

  She took a few measured steps toward the carrier then stopped and did a slow 360-degree turn, her gaze probing every shadow-protected nook and corner. Gatsby wailed again. ‘Coming, boy,’ she called. ‘I’m coming and I have a gun! I have a gun.’ If someone was hiding in the alley, they couldn’t help hearing her. She went forward five more steps then turned again. She was within two feet of the carrier. She was certain someone was watching her. She could feel a gaze lazily traveling up and down her body, and chills overtook her.

  Finally the carrier was within her reach. She took two more hurried steps, leaned down, grabbed the handle and lifted the carrier, which as usual felt as if it weighed fifty pounds. She took a deep, shuddering breath. Gatsby wailed.

  ‘It’s all right, Gats. Four minutes and we’ll be safe.’ Her left arm felt strained from the weight of the carrier, and her right hand had begun to tremble. Her grip on the gun handle wasn’t as steady as it had been when she started down the alley. She knew someone was watching her, waiting for her to slow down or drop the gun or—

  A high-pitched squeak made her shriek and almost drop both the carrier and the gun. She whirled to see a disgustingly fat rat running along the side of the building directly across from her. A calm part of her mind asked what she’d done to scare a rat from cover. Nothing. She wasn’t alone in the alley. Someone was close.

  Her breath grew shallow and fast. Sweat trickled down her back. She whirled around in a circle, pointing her gun at shadows as Gatsby yowled. Her vision seemed to narrow when she saw a form at the opening of the alley – the form of a man.

  As she opened her mouth to scream, he ran toward her. Slowly, her sight dimmed and she began sinking to her knees in the shadow-haunted alley.

  SEVENTEEN

  Strong arms closed around her. She let go of the carrier and tried to fight, but only managed to flail with arms and legs that felt as if they’d turned to liquid. Now he has me, she thought. And now I’ll die.

  ‘Kelsey, hold still!’ She heard a voice that seemed to come from far away. ‘My God, what are you doing out here?’ He held her tightly. Gatsby let out a shrill meow.

  ‘Go on, kill me!’ she cried. ‘Just get it over with!’

  ‘Kill you? Kelsey, it’s Declan!’

  ‘This was a trap,’ Kelsey sobbed wildly. ‘A trap! A trap! A—’

  Declan shook her hard. He clenched her shoulders and his blue gaze blazed into hers. ‘It’s me! Declan! I came to see if you were all right. What the hell are you doing out here with a cat …’ He looked down at her limp right hand. ‘… And a gun?’

  She went mute for a few moments, unable to draw enough breath to speak. Then, slowly, she realized that if he was going to kill her, he’d had plenty of time. Her panic ebbed slightly. ‘He stole Gatsby yesterday after … after he killed Eve,’ she said jerkily. ‘He … he brought him back and left him … just left him in the alley. I had to get my cat, Declan.’ To Kelsey’s surprise, she began to cry weakly. ‘I couldn’t let that person take someone else I loved from me! I couldn’t!’

  Declan looked at her as if stunned. Then his jaw hardened. ‘I’m getting you inside. Give me the gun and lean on me.’

  ‘I have to hold the gun—’

  ‘Your hand is shaking. Give me the gun, Kelsey. Now.’ His hand closed over hers and she released her hold on the Glock. ‘I’ll take you upstairs and come back for the cat—’


  ‘No! I won’t leave him. You can’t make me! I won’t!’

  ‘OK, you damned stubborn woman!’ he shouted. ‘You have to carry the cat thing. I can’t hold it and the gun and support you.’ She stooped and picked up the cat carrier. Then she let Declan lead her to the outside stairs. ‘One step at a time. Slowly. I’m holding you – you won’t trip. Just a few steps, Kelsey. You can do it.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, OK,’ she said as she lifted one leaden foot and then the other. If Declan hadn’t been holding her, she would have fallen backward. Finally they reached the platform at the top of the stairs and Declan opened the door. Kelsey stumbled in, feeling as if she’d never been so happy to see familiar surroundings in her life.

  ‘Oh, God,’ she moaned in relief as she set down the carrier. ‘We made it.’ She peered in at Gatsby. ‘Are you all right, sweetie?’

  ‘Sweetie! My ass!’ Declan exploded before he slammed the door shut, locked it, unloaded the Glock, and laid both the gun and the magazine on a table beside the door. Then he turned on her. ‘You went out into a dark alley, carrying a gun, to rescue your cat? After what happened to Eve Daley yesterday? What in God’s name is wrong with you?’

  ‘Don’t you yell at me!’ Kelsey stood, nearly choking on her own enraged breath. ‘He’s not your cat. He doesn’t mean anything to you. How dare you challenge what I did! You don’t know anything about love, but then how could you since you had Grant Harrington for a father and Cole Harrington for a brother—’

  ‘Stop it, stop it, stop it!’ Gatsby let out a protesting meow as Declan shouted at her. She glared at him, breathing hard. He glared back. ‘I do know about love, Kelsey. I also know about taking foolish risks that could easily get you killed and that’s exactly what you did tonight. I know about Eve’s murder and how she was found – by you. Someone drew you into that sick, bloodcurdling scenario. You’re shocked. You’re beyond shocked. I get it. But does that cat mean more to you than your life? If it does, then think about your father. Do you want him to lose another daughter? Don’t you care about him enough to save him that grief?’