There was another shot of all of them sitting at a table eating dinner, and I tacked it on my chalk wall along with the one of Daddy and Clara. They must’ve all gone together. That was a question for Clara, and if she didn’t open up when I talked to her tomorrow, then I’d be sure to ask Fiona at my hair appointment.
Chapter Fifteen
Ding dong.
Gus rocketed toward my front door. I set my box of Cocoa Krispies on the kitchen counter and glanced at my robe and slippers. Then, my eyes fell on the microwave clock—8:01.
Too early in the morning for visitors.
I was up earlier than normal for the middle of winter because I’d promised to help Wanda decorate the church at ten. I smoothed my hair and swiped away the mascara smudges from under my eyes as I disarmed my security system and made my way to the front door with my favorite owl mug in hand. I hadn’t slept much last night.
When I peeked through the sidelights, I saw my stepbrothers, Preston and Austin, standing on my porch.
What did the Twin Menaces want? I swung open the door. “Hey, guys! Come on in.” I sounded about twenty times more welcoming than I felt.
Gus jostled past me and greeted them. Normally, I tried to prevent him from jumping on my guests, but I figured the boys deserved a little extra love for stopping by so early.
They exchanged concerned glances as they fended off my dog. Both were broad-shouldered former football players who’d been blessed with blond good looks. I’d had trouble telling them apart until Austin had let me in on the secret—he had a scar under his left eye from where he’d fallen on the fireplace corner as a kid.
“Look at her. She’s obviously taking it hard.” Preston pointed at me. “No makeup or anything.
Austin’s mouth dropped open. “I’ve never seen her this way. Have you?”
“No, man.” Preston gawked at me as if I were a circus sideshow.
I rolled my eyes. “Guys. It’s the crack of dawn. Of course I’m not wearing makeup.”
“Sissy, we’re here for you.” Austin rested a hand on my fuzzy robe.
“What are you talking about? I’m fine.” Relatively speaking.
“Denial is never cool.” Preston shook his head.
“Never good,” Austin said. “Dude, we should’ve thought to bring her coffee from that joint she likes in town. That’d perk her up.”
“I have some!” I pointed to my mug.
“I don’t think it’s working,” Preston said.
“Will you tell me what’s going on if I give you coffee?” I was proud of myself for not using the words pinging in my mind at that moment.
“Sure.” Preston removed his coat.
Austin tossed his jacket on the bench. “We’ve got time before work.”
I stomped toward my kitchen and wondered if all the recent progress I’d made with these idiots had somehow been obliterated. I filled squirrel and racoon mugs and set them on the table in front of my stepbrothers. “Start talking.”
Austin patted Traitor Gus’s head. “We’re going to need cream and sugar, sissy.”
Not if I kill you first.
“Of course.” I gave myself an A+ for how sweet I sounded as I yanked open the pantry door, retrieved a five-pound bag of sugar, and deposited it on the table with a thump.
“Most people put their sugar in a bowl.” Preston’s eyes gleamed.
“You’re lucky I even have it.” I put my hands on my hips. “Cal made spaghetti sauce a few weeks ago and complained when I didn’t have any, so I bought a bag.” I turned to the refrigerator. “But milk will have to do instead of cream.” I yanked open the door, sniffed the milk, and plunked it on the table. “All good. Here you go.”
“Thanks,” they said in unison.
“Spoons, please.” Austin tore into the sugar bag.
I produced the utensils for my needy stepsiblings. “Now will you please tell me what this visit is about?” I plopped down at the table.
They exchanged glances—again.
“I’m starting to think we got bad intel, Presty.”
“You’re right, Austy.”
I buried my face in my hands and spoke through clenched teeth. “You can forget about being my sidekicks ever again if you don’t tell me what’s going on. Right. Now.”
They stirred their coffee in tandem as if they’d choreographed the move.
“We thought you and Cal broke up,” Preston finally said.
“What? Why?” I rubbed my temples.
They stirred some more.
“Because one of the other realtors in our office showed Cal a house in the country last night,” Austin said.
What? My stomach took a nosedive. Had he been looking at the house when I’d called? Had he made the appointment to look when he knew I’d be at the party?
Preston dumped sugar into his coffee. “And why would he do that when—?”
“Yeah. Yeah. I get it.” I held up a hand. “Did he make an offer?”
“Not yet, but Cody thought he seemed interested,” Austin said. “Do you want us to let you know if he does?”
“Yes.” In a normal world that would be something Cal should tell me himself.
Concern filled Preston’s expression. “I thought he was totally into you.”
“Me too.” I stood and poured myself more coffee.
“If he’s jerking our sissy around, he’ll have to answer to us,” Austin said.
“That’s right.” Preston curled his fist.
For half a second, I almost felt sorry for Cal. “Thanks, guys. Let’s not think the worst. He could be keeping his options open, or he wants to invest in a rental property.” I cupped my hands around the mug and took a sip of coffee.
Or maybe, thanks to his dad, Cal now had something to prove.
After Preston and Austin left, I got in the shower, and when I stepped out, my phone was ringing.
“Hey, Wanda. Change of plans?” I asked as soon as I answered.
In the background, a high-pitched version of “Für Elise” played. She must’ve been at Pastry Delight. I set the phone on the bathroom counter and put it on speaker.
“No. But I’m sure you remember Beverly was supposed to help us decorate. Said she had a vision for making the chapel into a winter wonderland. She spray-painted tree branches white and anchored them into buckets. She planned to string them with lights.”
“Where are the trees?” I wrapped a towel around my hair and squeezed.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I hate to bug her family about them, but I think they’re in her barn.”
Good grief. Why didn’t she ask instead of hinting? “I’ll find them and bring them over.”
“Thank you, Georgia. I don’t know what I was thinking planning this ridiculous shindig.”
“Now you sound like Grandpa.” I laughed. “It’ll be fun. The families will have a blast celebrating together, and it isn’t like you’re doing anything extravagant.”
“Keep talking.”
Most people didn’t tell me that. “You look beautiful in your dress, and Grandpa will be blown away. Then there’s your honeymoon, and the fact that you get to escape this deep freeze for your trip to Florida. You picked the best caterer in town, so the meal will be amazing. It’ll be the wedding you always dreamed about.”
“Thank you. Go find those trees. I’ll have fresh muffins waiting when you get to the church.”
“I’m on it.” I disconnected and sent Facebook messages to Clara and Denise, hoping one of them would answer and give me the go-ahead to nose around their mother’s barn. If I didn’t get permission soon, I’d ask for forgiveness later.
I got ready, and when I still didn’t have an answer from Beverly’s daughters, I decided to wait a few more minutes. I lounged on my couch and called Ashley to leave a message, but to my surprise, she picked up.
“Did you quit your job already?” I straightened the magazines on my coffee table.
“Not yet.” From her tone, I could tell she wanted to say more
, but she must not have been able to.
I cringed. “I’m not on speaker, am I?” Sometimes she traveled with fellow coworkers, and if she’d answered while they were in the car with her, I might’ve blown her secret.
“No, but I’m walking into work now.”
“Whew! So, I didn’t call to ask about your employment status. Would you be willing to lend your artistic talents to Wanda and me after work? We’re decorating the church and reception hall for the wedding and may need some help by then.” I stood, walked to the window, and looked out at the pond in my backyard.
“Oh, hon. I’d love to, but I have plans tonight.” She paused. “I decided to go out with J.T.”
“Finally!” I pumped my fist in the air. “Where’re you going?”
“To a movie. Coffee afterward. It’s low key.”
“Should I continue suppressing my squeal?”
“Yes. Channel that excitement into making Wanda’s decorations beautiful, and if you need an opinion, shoot me some pictures, and I’ll do my best to respond.”
I walked into my kitchen. “That’d be great. I don’t want our winter wedding wonderland to look like a winter wedding blunderland.”
“You should never use puns.” She giggled. “And definitely not when Hamlet’s around, unless you want him to like you even more than he already does.”
Heat crept into my face. “Noted.” That was solid advice. “Have fun on your date with J.T. I want the scoop later.”
We said our goodbyes, and I was emptying my dishwasher when I got a reply from Denise.
The trees are probably in the barn. If not, Clara should be at the house, or there’s a key under the fake rock in the landscaping. Feel free to go in and search the basement if necessary. The police cleared the house and the crime scene cleaners have been there…. Words I never thought I’d write.
I thanked Denise before I finished putting away my dishes and drove to Beverly’s house.
I parked my truck next to the paint-chipped barn and hopped out. The brisk wind made me wonder if it was going to snow again, and the barren trees in Beverly’s yard swayed.
I jogged to the house and knocked on the door. Miss Peacock barked, but a few minutes passed, and Clara didn’t answer. I walked over to the garage and peered through the windows. Clara’s red hatchback was parked next to Beverly’s car.
Maybe Clara was asleep or in the shower. I checked my messages to see if she’d answered, but she hadn’t.
If her car hadn’t been in the garage, I would’ve used the key to go in and look for Beverly’s smartphone. Instead, I hurried to the barn, unhooked the latch, heaved the door aside, and surveyed the contents. To my left was a riding lawn mower, and I caught a faint whiff of gasoline.
The cats that once lived in this barn had been given new homes, since Miss Peacock had kept Beverly busy. To my right, in the back corner, stood the grove of spray-painted trees. “Cool.” We’d be able to make the church look pretty.
I headed over and inspected the large plastic tub sitting next to the trees. It contained boxes of white string lights as well as silver fabric Beverly must have intended to use to disguise the five-gallon buckets that anchored the branches. I hoped the material hadn’t absorbed the barn’s mustiness.
Swish. Thud. Click.
I froze. The barn darkened, and a bit of light streamed in through the windows at the top. Goosebumps rose on my arms. There’s no way that heavy door would’ve closed on its own—even with the wind.
“Clara?”
I dropped the tree and raced to the door. Pulling on it, I prayed it would budge, but the door held fast. “Help! Clara!” I slapped my palm against the door and fought back a slew of naughty words when I realized my phone was in my truck. Who knew how long it would be before Wanda figured out something was wrong? Gravel crunched as a vehicle exited the driveway and zoomed down the road.
I slumped against the rough wall, and my pulse pounded against my neck. A gust of wind howled. I rubbed my arms and caught a whiff of smoke filtering in through the cracks.
“No, no, no!”
Flames skirted along the foundation.
“Are you kidding me?”
Yanking my scarf over my nose and mouth, I took in my surroundings. “Lord, help me find a way out.”
The narrow windows at the top were too high for me to reach, and even if I could scale the walls, they weren’t wide enough for me to pass through—and my curves weren’t to blame. Even petite Ashley wouldn’t be able to wiggle through those windows.
I raced the perimeter, pressing the walls in search of a gap or a weakness. The wood on the back wall crackled. When I approached the corner behind the lawn mower, my heart kerplopped to my feet.
Clara sprawled face down in the dirt.
Chapter Sixteen
Kneeling beside Clara, I pressed my fingers to her neck, praying for a pulse.
Nothing.
Blood pooled under the side of her head.
There was a chance her pulse was so faint I couldn’t detect it, and there was no way I’d leave her behind. But I had to find a way out first.
The smoke thickened, and the heat taunted me.
I returned to the door. Instead of giving it another pull, I bent and examined the vertical boards, rotting along the bottom. One slat was loose, and bracing myself, I snapped it off.
I glanced over my shoulder. The fire flickered up the back wall behind the trees. It wouldn’t be long before the barn caved in.
Grasping a second board, I tugged it and fell backward onto my bottom. I shot up and tried again. This time the board loosened, and I yanked it hard. The wood splintered and cracked. I bent next to the hole, pulled down my scarf, and gulped fresh air.
Please, God. Help us get out.
I covered my nose and mouth again before ripping off a third and fourth board, tearing the flesh on my palms. The fire edged closer. I dove through the opening, wiggling my hips through the ragged hole to snake my way to freedom.
Clawing my way up the door for support, I unhooked the latch and heaved the door open. Flames licked closer, and I crawled across the dirt to Clara. I looped my arms underneath hers, and, holding my breath, I stood and dragged her through the door.
I coughed and heaved her across the gravel driveway until I reached the brown grass and crumpled onto my backside. Sirens wailed, and I took another deep breath.
My truck was too close to the barn. I had to move it before the firetrucks arrived. Crawling away from Clara, I sucked in another breath. Only a few more feet.
I grasped the door handle, leaving a blood smear. I could do it. I had to move the truck. Cranking the engine, I lolled against the seat, threw the truck in drive and steered it into the grass, far from the driveway.
The barn walls buckled, and the roof collapsed into the flames.
“Is Clara alive?” I asked in my hoarse voice as soon as Cal walked into my room in the Richard County ER that afternoon. At my insistence, Mom and Dan had gone to the cafeteria to get some lunch. Mom had been in tears when they’d arrived, and it’d taken Dan and me the better part of an hour to reassure her that I’d be fine.
“Are you okay?” Concern and fear mingled in his expression as he slid off his coat.
“I’ve been feeling better since I’ve been lying here sucking in oxygen.” I pointed to the nasal canula. “The doctor ordered a bunch of tests and said I’m lucky. I only have mild smoke inhalation.” I lifted my bandaged hands. “And a few cuts. I’ll get to bust out of here later.”
He kissed my forehead before pulling a chair over to the bed. “You’re not going home alone.”
“Are you volunteering to sleep in my guest room?” Though I wouldn’t mind, I wasn’t sure how that’d look to my family and friends.
He dimpled and met my gaze. “I think we should avoid that situation.”
“Right.” I shifted as my face hit its boiling point. “Mom will insist I stay with her and Dan anyway,” I muttered.
“G
ood. Now what were you doing in Aunt Beverly’s barn?”
“You never answered my question about Clara.” I tilted the bed up.
He ran his fingers through his hair. “She passed away.”
Tears stung my eyes. “No. Maybe if I’d have gotten her out more quickly—”
“It’s not your fault. I’m guessing the autopsy will confirm she died from the blow to her head. She was probably already gone when you dragged her out.” He grasped my other hand. “I still don’t understand why you were in Aunt Beverly’s barn.”
“Beverly made decorative trees for the wedding, and I was there to pick them up because Wanda asked me to find them. We all figured they were probably in the barn.” I twisted a wad of blanket. “I even sent Facebook messages to Clara and Denise to ask permission. Denise told me to go ahead and that Clara was there. I went to the house first because I wanted to talk to Clara, but when she didn’t answer the door, I went out to the barn.” I sat up straighter and rested my hand on his bicep. “Where’s Miss Peacock?”
“At Beverly’s house. I’ll make sure someone takes care of her. Even if I have to do it myself.”
That was sweet of him.
Cal brushed a strand of my smoky hair off my face. “Tell me what happened next.”
“I was looking at the trees when someone locked the door and set the barn on fire. I didn’t see Clara until I was looking for a way out, because she was unconscious in the corner behind the lawn mower.”
“Who else knew you were going to Aunt Beverly’s besides Denise and Wanda?”
“I don’t know. Wanda was at Pastry Delight when she called, so anyone could’ve overheard her hinting for me to get the trees from Beverly’s barn.”
Wanda had bought the muffins at a little after nine that morning, and the shop had a regular customer every day at that time.
“What’re you thinking?” Cal asked.
I chewed my lip. Surely Old Man Smith didn’t have anything to do with the murders. Showing up at Beverly’s the night she’d been shot only had to do with his general nosiness, right? But Cal had already questioned how reliable Earl was, and we had to consider every angle.
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