by Dianne Miley
“When I s...saw her in the liquor store, I knew so...something was fishy,” he admitted. “Had a bad f...feeling all day. By nightfall, I felt a mite p...poorly so I went to b...bed.”
Pausing, he wiped his eyes. Baldy had a lot to get off his chest, and she didn’t dare interrupt.
“When I heard those shots, it nearly s...s...scared the crap outta me.” Fidgeting with his sheet, he continued. “The horses went crazy.” He looked up at her. “Coulda been your father sh...shooting at coyotes, but that bad feeling kept gnawing at me.” With a beseeching look, he said, “Can’t explain it. I knew something wasn’t right. Got into my b...britches fast as I could.” He scowled. “Old age don’t make it easy.”
He drew a deep breath and his eyes dropped to the bed. “I grabbed my sh...shotgun and got out there fast as I could.”
Laura sucked in a breath. His shotgun? Time stood still for an eternal moment. Hope fluttered in her chest.
“The barn lights came on just as I got to the back door. I ran toward the barn, fast as an old man can run t...totin’ a shotgun.”
He grew angry. “That c...creep stood right there in the meadow. Drunk as a s...skunk, he charged me, waving a knife.”
Laura gasped. Jake had a knife? She glanced at Brett, who nodded with a knowing expression.
Baldy’s hands shook as he relived the moment.
“He aimed to kill me, I s...swear.” His quavering voice raised a notch or two. “He was so dr...drunk-s...stupid, he didn’t see my gun.” His voice lowered as a nurse walked past.
“He came at me like a m...m...madman so I took aim. He spotted that gun and s...sobered up in a hurry. Spun around faster’n I could spit.” He grew somber and looked out the window.
“But my old finger was already on the t...trigger. S...shot fired before I could stop. Once I get m...moving, ar...thri...tis don’t let me stop none too quick. Shot him in the back and saw him stumble. Then he st...staggered to his feet and h...headed for the woods.”
Laura and Brett stared at one another with wide eyes.
Baldy babbled on. “Then I got scared. I grabbed up the sh...shell and my arm went numb. I ran to the house, but the numbness paralyzed my entire side. I drove h...here and collapsed at the door.”
Frightened, he pleaded, “I wasn’t out to kill him, or I’d have sh...shot again. I was just protectin’ misself.” He twisted gnarled fingers in the sheet. “I didn’t even know he was d...dead ‘til the cops came in askin’ qu...qu...questions.”
“Yeah, and you didn’t tell me none of that.” The deep voice from the doorway was Chief Hunter’s.
Laura’s heart stopped. Did the chief hear the whole confession?
Baldy scowled. “I wasn’t plannin’ to neither.”
“I have to place you under arrest, Mr. Calvin,” Chief Hunter said.
“B...but that scum c...came after me.” He looked like he was ready to drop another bombshell. “He killed my d...daughter. Layla was m...mine! And my grandchild too.” His face scrunched up in pain.
Laura’s mouth dropped open. Layla was his daughter?
“Gallag...gher never d...deserved my girl. But her mother b...begged me not to talk. Said he’d kill us b...both.” He covered his face with trembling hands. “Never treated Layla right, or she wouldn’t have d...done what she did.” He dissolved into sobs and his monitor beeped wildly.
Nurses rushed into the room, glaring at the chief as they shoved him out the door and shooed Laura and Brett into the hallway.
“Hope he’s okay,” the chief blustered.
Laura peeked in. The nurses had Calvin calmed and taking oxygen. She gave the men a nod of assurance.
“Did you hear what he said?” Brett asked.
“All I needed to hear.”
“Then is Laura cleared?” he asked anxiously.
Chief Hunter nodded.
Brett grabbed her and hugged her tight. Laura shook in his arms, wanting him to hold her forever.
Yet security eluded her still. What would happen to her family if she left now?
“Whew, what a night.” Hunter wiped his brow. “And I was surprised by the statement from Sarita Santos—”
Lilacs For Laura
Lilacs For Laura
Chapter 24—Love Flourishes with Trust
Laura braced herself. “How is Sarita doing?”
“Running hither and yon,” Chief Hunter complained. “So she must be all right. That’s one difficult woman to track down.” With a grin, he removed his hat to scratch his head. “She’s got some cuts and bruises, but her baby’s okay.”
Relief washed over Laura. Sarita would be a good mother. Although everything in her life defied the possibility, she’d make her grandmother proud.
With puzzlement, Brett asked, “What did she say?”
Laura held her breath. Did Sarita think she’d hurt her?
Chief Hunter cleared his throat and shot her a look of apology. “She said Laura didn’t do it.”
She sighed with relief and caught Brett’s smiling eyes as he reached for her hand.
“Apparently,” the chief bowled on. “Her boyfriend—boss, pimp, whatever you want to call him—got nasty and threatened her.” He paused to hitch up his pants. “She’s pretty certain he tampered with her car.” He looked at the floor. “He told her she’d end up like Layla if she didn’t have the abortion.”
Laura gasped. He did?
“Both girls wanted to quit, and Ramone didn’t like it none. Sarita overheard him arguing with Jake on the day of Layla’s crash. Jake was ticked ‘cause Ramone was rummaging in his car. Guess he borrowed Jake’s wire cutters.”
Laura tried to digest what she was hearing. So it wasn’t Rachel after all. Jake was bluffing.
“Sarita didn’t think nothing of it until last night when she put two and two together. Sure enough, I found the cutters in Jake’s glove compartment with Ramone’s prints everywhere. Odd, they’re engraved REJ. Jake must’ve lifted them from someone.”
REJ—Rachel Emily James. They were hers.
“Anyway, I called in an APB. Should be able to throw the book at that lowlife.” He frowned with disgust.
Laura let it all sink in. She couldn’t even be angry. Jake was dead so what was the point? Only tremendous relief flooded her soul.
“So Laura’s off the hook?” Brett asked.
“Yeah.” Hunter dropped his head. He shifted from one foot to the other before muttering, “I should have known better. I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “You James girls were brought up better than that, even if Rachel did make the mistake of marrying Jake.”
“She thought she could help him,” Laura explained.
“Those James girls go for the underdogs,” Brett teased, pulling her close. “Just look at me.”
Just short of a laugh, the chief continued his self-deprecation. “Besides, it was too easy. All the excitement of a murder/conspiracy clouded my judgment. Never had anything like that in Crystal Falls before. Closest we ever got was when Myrtle Winthrop claimed the town hall was infiltrated with the British mafia.”
They laughed. Chief Hunter scratched his head.
“It all makes sense now. We found a gun in Layla’s purse and her apartment was locked up tighter ‘n Fort Knox.” He shook his head sadly. “She knew he was after her. Drove like she was runnin’ shine all the time. Maybe she woulda come to me if I hadn’t given her such grief every time I ticketed her.”
“Don’t go blaming yourself,” Brett said with empathy.
A doctor shoved past, headed into the commotion in Calvin’s room as Deputy Warren emerged from the men’s room down the hall. Warren’s head spun. He rushed toward them.
“Don’t tell me Baldy croaked while I was in the john!”
“No.” Hunter frowned. “But he might be having another stroke. Calvin just confessed to shooting Jake Santos.”
Deflated, Warren’s face fell. “And I missed it.” He swore under his breath, scrunching up his face and jerking his
head down as if mentally kicking himself.
“Warren, you were right about Calvin,” the chief offered apologetically.
Laura admired the unexpected admission. The chief’s sudden humility wasn’t wasted on Warren, either.
“I was taught by the best, sir,” the deputy praised.
A faint smile graced Hunter’s red face as he hitched up his pants and pulled out his cell phone. He began to walk away with his head hung low.
“Chief,” she called before he got too far.
He looked back sheepishly.
“Is it all right if I tell my family?”
He waved a hand. “Go ahead. I’ll make it official this evening.” He walked into the empty lounge, punching numbers on the phone.
“Wow.” Brett whistled low. “Never saw him this way before,” he whispered to Warren.
“Aw, he’s an okay guy once you get used to him.” Warren waved a hand. “He’s always treated me right. Just gets on his high horse sometimes.”
Brett raised his eyebrows and laughed. Shaking Warren’s hand, he said, “Congratulations. Now we have a message to deliver.”
He pulled Laura close and led her to the elevator. As they stepped inside, he nibbled her ear. “Then we have some of our own business to take care of,” he whispered.
Her breath caught. She’d completely forgotten that her father was in a room down the hall. She couldn’t leave the hospital. And she still couldn’t leave Crystal Falls.
****
“There you are,” Emily said with relief when Laura returned to her father’s hospital room.
“Look who I found,” she ushered Brett in.
“Oh my!” her mother exclaimed with surprise. Her eyes fell sympathetically on his neck brace and sling.
Her father’s face turned white.
“Evening, John.” Brett shook his hand. As if he were priming a pump, color returned to her father’s complexion.
Emily rose to hug Brett.
“We have good news,” Laura said with more excitement than she felt.
“It’s about time,” John said hopefully, but apprehension settled in his features. Fortunately, his reaction to the drugs seemed to have subsided. Either that, or Brett’s company had him on his best behavior.
“So what is it?” her mother asked eagerly.
Laura told the whole story of Mr. Calvin’s confession and Sarita’s statement. Profound relief filled her father’s face. Ecstasy spilled forth from her mother’s.
“So you’re free to go?” Emily asked joyfully.
“Well, yes,” Laura answered with a sideways glance at Brett. She caught a hint of disappointment in his eyes. “But what about Daddy’s surgery?”
“We’ll get on just fine,” Daddy assured her.
“Yes,” Mama chimed in. “You go with Brett and be happy. We don’t need you pouting around the house any more.” Her teasing fell flat. “Open a flower shop in Charlotte, honey. Start your own heritage.”
Laura looked to Brett and saw a glimmer of hope in his expression. Conflict waged in her heart. How could she abandon her parents like this? But she made a promise to Brett, and she wanted to keep it.
No matter what she did, the guilt was overwhelming. She laced her fingers with Brett’s to reassure him. His warm squeeze reassured her.
“What will you do?” Laura asked her parents.
“Don’t you worry,” her father said. “Your mama and I will figure it out. Been running that shop all our lives before you were old enough to know a daisy from a snapdragon. Heck, before you were even born.”
But they were young and energetic then. Daddy could work then. Grandma and Grandpa were there to help. And there wasn’t a fancy flower shop in Springfield.
“We can downsize.” Her mother read her thoughts like Spock with his Vulcan mind meld. “It isn’t like we didn’t know this was coming.” She tossed a smile toward her husband, then another to Brett.
“We’ve discussed our options,” she continued. “We’ll close the greenhouses for now, buy everything from vendors. If and when your father is able, he can help me manage the shop. In the meantime, we’ll just hire someone.”
“You say that as if it’s no big deal, Mama,” Laura said with frustration. Brett’s fingers slipped from hers, but she was too distraught to think about it. “You can’t afford to hire someone. The shop barely makes payroll now, and I’m working for a third of a florist’s base salary.”
“But you get free room and board,” her father joked.
“It’s not funny, Daddy. Are you gonna offer your new employee my room?”
His face became grave and he looked at his wife.
“Actually, honey,” her mother began, “we could move into the cottage.”
Laura stared at her, tried to use the mind meld on her but it didn’t work. She locked eyes with her father, but his gaze slipped to his hands in his lap.
“What about the house?” Her voice trembled.
“The farm would bring a pretty penny,” he said without looking up.
“What?” She could not believe her ears. No way. This wasn’t happening.
Her mother smiled weakly. “We’ve considered it before, honey. This isn’t the first time we’ve had financial difficulty.” She sent a loving smile toward her husband. “The farm’s a lot to take care of. It’d be much easier as we get older to run the shop with outside vendors and live in the little cottage.”
The idea swamped Laura like quicksand. The harder she kicked, the more she was sucked under.
“And thanks to you, son, for helping me get the cottage back into shape.” John looked to the doorway where Brett stood six feet away from her.
Every ounce of Laura’s security ebbed from her. Sell the farm? Use outside vendors? And the dread on Brett’s face was no assurance at all.
****
Brett poked at the western omelet on his plate. The Parkside Café filled with old timers at this hour on a Wednesday morning. Working folks had been here and gone hours ago. Not wanting to talk about last night, he’d slept in and waited until his parents were busy working too.
Taking a bite of bacon, he felt guilty. He’d refused his mother’s offer to cook him breakfast, and barely spoke to her this morning. He didn’t even see Dad—and he’d been extra nice. They shouldn’t have to hear about Calvin’s confession through the rumor mill. Or worse, on the evening news, when their son was part of the action. He tugged at the neck brace where it rubbed his skin raw.
The scene at the hospital had his stomach in knots and his heart in a vise. He wanted to propose last night, but Laura’s reaction to her parents’ dilemma made him wonder if she’d come to Charlotte after all. Maybe he was being stubborn, but he needed to know if she kept her promises.
He shouldn’t have to beg and he wasn’t about to.
Home fries, a strip of bacon, and half of the omelet lay untouched on his plate. He finished his tea and reached for his wallet.
“Hey! Brett, my man!” The cheerful voice filled with surprise. Following a blonde waitress in a pink uniform rose Max’s sandy head, all blue eyes and white teeth. His broad shoulders dwarfed the tiny blonde as they closed in on Brett’s booth. “I’ll sit here,” he told her. “Thanks.”
She set down a menu and gave him a flirty smile, quite unlike the sympathetic one she offered his friend in the neck brace.
“Hey, man, good to see you!” Brett grinned.
Several other females—ranging from the cute young hostess, to the middle-aged cashier, to an elderly customer with a walker—shot appreciative glances toward Max as he slid into the navy booth.
“I heard about the crash,” he said with a nod toward Brett’s sling. “You doing all right?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine in no time.” Brett pushed his Blue Willow cup toward the edge of the table for a refill.
“So what are you doing back in this burg?” Max moved his menu next to the cup without opening it.
“I’m off work for ten days,” Brett
answered. “So I came to see Laura.” He’d leave it at that.
“How is she?” Concern showed on Max’s face.
“Better now.” He tried an enthusiastic smile, but feared his friend would read right through him. He hurried on, “Last night Mr. Calvin confessed to shooting Jake.”
Max stared in amazement. “The old hermit next door?”
“He’s the one.”
“I thought the cops couldn’t get him to testify.”
Brett laughed. “My little guilt trip worked wonders.”
In a whiny voice, Max mocked, “Please don’t let my girl go to jail.”
“You got it,” Brett confirmed. “Why didn’t Hunter think of that?”
Max shook his head. The perky waitress filled Brett’s cup and Max ordered a veggie omelet, multi-grain toast, and orange juice. Another health nut.
“So is Laura going back to Charlotte with you?” he asked cheerfully as she waltzed away, hips swinging.
“Uh, well, I hope so,” Brett hedged.
Max drew his brows together. “Hmm. Chad said she ran down there faster’n a hummingbird in a hurricane when she heard you were hurt.”
“Yeah, well,” Brett fidgeted in the booth. “She had to come back for the investigation.”
The caring look on Max’s face encouraged him to continue. Although he’d been determined to keep his problems to himself, the story spilled out.
“She promised to join me in Charlotte once the investigation was over. But now, her dad needs a knee replacement and can’t work indefinitely. I know she feels obligated to help. She freaked out when her mom mentioned selling the farm.”
Without a hint of judgment, Max studied him. He was so darned easy to talk to. It felt good to confide in someone male and unbiased. Unlike his mother.
“How much do you like working for Bo?” he asked.
Surprised, Brett couldn’t detect a speck of admonishment in Max’s expression. It was a straightforward question. That was all. Yet his defenses rose.
“I love working for Bo. I’m not giving up my job, if that’s what you’re suggesting.” Frustration fueled him. “She’s not willing to give up her job for me. I understand family loyalty, but what about her loyalty to me? What about her promise?”