by Tim Myers
I shook my head. “You’re not seeing it right. The tools were a bonus. The real reason had to be something else. Like jealousy.” I was thinking of Betty or Howard, two of my favorite card makers in the world, Lillian said, “Wait a second, maybe we’re jumping to a conclusion the killer wants us to. What better way to divert suspicion than to point it in an entirely different direction? Let’s say that Jeffrey Wallace killed her. Wouldn’t it make sense that he’d try to point the blame toward another part of her life? There are lots of card makers we could suspect, but if we focus solely on those, we’d miss him entirely.”
Sara Lynn slumped down onto the couch. “So we’re back where we started from. I don’t know how Bradford does this. It’s impossible, isn’t it?”
“No, but it’s not easy,” I admitted. “We do know one thing we didn’t before.”
Lillian said, “If you mention those missing scrap-books again, I’ll scream, I swear it.”
“Besides those,” I said. “Whoever killed her came on to this house and tried to cover their tracks. We can’t be sure which thing we discovered is significant, or even if any of them are, but we do know one thing: Maggie was surely murdered. Why else would anyone try to cover it up?”
“So now it’s time to call Bradford,” Sara Lynn said after a few moments of silence between us. “He’ll know what to do.”
Lillian shook her head. “We don’t have anything to give him that’s concrete, and if anyone in the world should know what a pragmatist he is, it should be you.”
“I do, believe me, I do,” Sara Lynn said. “I don’t know what good we accomplished here tonight, but at least Maggie’s possessions have been sorted and boxed. What should we do with the few boxes of keepsakes? I don’t care if anyone goes through the other boxes, but what’s left is all of Maggie’s memories.”
“Let’s bring them back inside and lock the door,” I said. “Lillian, would you call the Salvation Army tomorrow and have them pick up the clothes? I’ll call somebody about the trash.”
She nodded. “And I’ll take Maggie’s personal items to Patrick tomorrow when I return the key to him. They’ll be fine here in the meantime.”
The three of us walked outside together into the night. Sometime while we’d been inside it had started to rain, and everything glistened from the streetlight’s illumination. It was getting colder—there was no doubt about it—and soon enough the rain would turn to snow. I saw a movement down the street, and for a second I could swear I saw someone peeking out from behind the bushes. Was it my imagination? Were we were being watched, or was someone just out for a late-night stroll? I started walking in that direction when Lillian asked, “Jennifer? Where are you going?”
“I thought I saw someone,” I said, but by the time I got there, either she was gone, or more likely, she’d never been there in the first place. It was amazing what my imagination could do when I was tired.
“Is anyone there?” Sara Lynn called out.
“No, I probably just imagined it.” I started to look for my Gremlin when I remembered I’d ridden over with Lillian. “Would you give me a ride back to my car?”
“I can take you home, if you’d like,” Sara Lynn said.
“Thanks, but then I’d be stranded in the morning.”
Lillian said, “I’ll take her. Thank you for your help, Sara Lynn. You were a real asset tonight.”
My sister nodded. “I was glad to do it.”
Then I remembered what had brought Sara Lynn to us in the first place. “Listen, all I’ve got is a couch, but you’re welcome to it.”
Lillian piped up. “I can do better than that. I’ve got a guest bedroom just begging to be used.”
“Thank you both, but I’d better get back home,” Sara Lynn said. “It appears I might need to get used to being alone.”
After we saw her safely to her car, Lillian and I drove through the deserted streets of Rebel Forge toward the shop. I’d parked close to the front, something I hardly ever did when we were open for business, but for once I was glad I was under a streetlight and not tucked away in the alley behind the shop. “That was a productive evening, wasn’t it?” Lillian said.
“I’m still not sure what we discovered, but we’re better off than we were, so that’s something.”
She patted my arm as she pulled in behind my car on the deserted street. “Have faith, Jennifer. We’ll get to the truth sooner or later.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said. “Good night, Lillian, and thanks for everything.” She looked up at me through her open window. “Jennifer, I should be the one thanking you. Since you brought me into your shop, my life’s been full of excitement just when I thought I was going to be consumed by boredom forever.”
“That’s me, never a dull moment,” I said. “I’m glad you’re working with me, too.”
After she drove away, I could swear I felt someone’s gaze on me. There was a creepy feeling on the nape of my neck, and I fumbled my car keys trying to get inside. As I raced away, the feeling left me, but I still didn’t stop rushing until I was safely upstairs, locked in on one side with the world on the other.
As tired as I was, I couldn’t just go to sleep. Not only was I wired from the massive amounts of coffee we’d put away, but I was truly filthy from working. A shower was in order if I was ever going to go to sleep. Unfortunately, it only woke me up more. I paced around the place, wishing I could get some sleep before another big day tomorrow. The clock read just after midnight. Maybe some chilly night air would help. I wrapped my wet hair in a towel and opened the window onto the small porch. It was too cold to go out there, but I enjoyed the sudden chill when I poked my head out through the window. I rested my forehead on the sill, and I could feel myself start to drift when Oggie jumped on my back, something he liked to do occasionally and a habit I couldn’t break him of. I pulled my head back as a reflex, and less than a second later, the window crashed down, jarring the glass with the force of its impact against the jamb. It shook me; I couldn’t deny it. “Did you cause that, or did you just save me?” I asked him as I stroked his fur.
He sneezed once and squirmed out of my grip, a “no comment” if ever there was one. I looked at the window again, lifted it and tried to see if it was at all loose. The odd thing was that it took both hands to lower it once it was open. So why had it fallen unbidden? Was it a warning from Frances that I was in danger, or was she trying to kill me? Either way, I wasn’t happy about the message. Before I’d risk my neck out that particular window again, I was going to saw off my broom and use the shaft to hold it open. My heart was still furiously pumping a few minutes later as I curled up on the couch. As I sat there with a single small table light illuminating the room, I thought about reading or watching television, anything to take my mind off the world and get some rest. I was still considering the possibilities when I heard someone outside my door. Go away, I thought to myself. It could only be Jeffrey or Barrett, and I wasn’t in the mood to talk to either one of them at the moment. Then I heard a drunken voice, and I was suddenly wishing for either one of my neighbors. “Jennifer, let me in. We need to talk.”
Should I answer Wayne, or pretend to be asleep? That fiction died soon enough as he slammed the door with his fists. “Let me in, or you’ll regret it. You know you want to see me. Admit it.” He hit the door again, this time hard enough to shake it on its hinges. Though Ethan had pronounced the lock solid and the door secure, I knew it could only stand so much of such a fierce assault, so I shouted, “Go away, Wayne.”
“Good, you’re up. Now open the door so we can have a party.” He pounded on the door again, and I wondered where my nosy neighbors were now. I grabbed my baseball bat, then called Bradford at home.
“This better be good,” he grumbled when he picked up.
“Wayne Davidson’s trying to break into my apartment,” I screamed, despite my pledge to myself to stay calm.
“Sis? Hang on, I’ll be right there.”
At that moment, I h
eard a horrid splintering sound and saw the door swing inward. I threw the phone down and grabbed the bat with both hands. Wayne dropped an iron bar on my couch. “You’re not being very friendly,” he said as he started toward me.
“Don’t,” I said, my fingers clenched to the grip of the bat.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” he said. “You can’t stop me.”
I waited until he was within reach, then I did what Bradford had taught me as a kid playing my first game. I swung from the dirt up into him. Though I’d been aiming for his chin, it was a good thing I didn’t hit him there. The force of the blow would have probably killed him. As it was, I managed to catch him squarely in the stomach, and there was a huff of alcohol-laden air as he collapsed on the floor.
Barrett was there thirty seconds later, with Jeffrey on his heels. “We came as soon as we could,” Barrett said, faltering at the door when he saw Wayne’s unconscious form on the floor.
“My God, did you kill him?”
“I don’t think so,” I said.
Jeffrey nudged Wayne’s unconscious form with his toe, then bent down and checked his breathing. As he stood again, he said, “He’s still alive, but when he wakes up he’s going to be sore in places he didn’t know he had.”
“What took you two so long?” I asked. The shakes were starting to hit me hard, the way they usually did after something frightening happened to me. After the phone call at Maggie’s, the falling window and now this, I was nearly out of adrenaline.
“We got here as fast as we could,” Barrett said snugging his robe tighter.
“Barrett, are you coming back to bed?” I heard a voice call out through my open door. I didn’t need to see that blonde hair to know that it was Penny.
“Yes, why don’t you go back downstairs,” I said. “I’d hate to break up your date.”
“It’s not what it looks like,” he said.
“Oh, did you two decide to have a slumber party and make s’mores? I didn’t get my invitation, did you, Jeffrey?”
Jeffrey backed up. “Leave me out of this. If you’re okay, I’m going back to bed.”
“What about him?” Barrett said as he pointed toward Wayne.
Jeffrey said, “Fine. I’ll stay with her until the police get here, but do you honestly think he’s going to give any more trouble tonight?”
Barrett was saved from answering by my brother’s sudden appearance. His gun was drawn, and he came off that landing like he was ready to shoot somebody, and he didn’t much care who.
He took one look at Wayne, then holstered his gun.
“Well, I’m sorry if you had to kill him, but just because of the nightmares you’re going to have because of it.” Bradford had been forced to kill two different men since he’d become sheriff, and it was no secret he still was haunted by their faces from time to time.
“He’s not dead,” I said, and Wayne snorted once to prove it, then quickly settled back into his baseball-bat-induced coma.
“That will save me a ton of paperwork, thanks,” he said, trying to diffuse the situation with a grin. Bradford turned to the two men and said, “Thanks for watching out for her.”
I was about to protest that they hadn’t done a thing when Barrett did it for me. “He was like that when we got here.”
Jeffrey added, “I don’t envy him that. May we go, Officer? There’s nothing we can do here.”
“Go on. I’ll need your statements, but that can wait until morning.”
After they were gone, Bradford leaned down and handcuffed Wayne, though he was now snoring fitfully.
“Do you think that’s really necessary?” I asked him.
“Don’t want him waking up and catching me off-guard,” Bradford said. He gently took the baseball bat from me, then wrapped his arms around me. “Are you okay, Sis?”
That’s when I let it all go and started to cry.
After a while, I pulled back and wiped my cheeks. “I swear, sometimes I can be such a girl.”
“That’s one of the things I love most about you,” my brother said. “You surprise me all the time, and I’m not that easy to shock anymore. Why don’t you grab some stuff and come home with me? Bring your roommates too. Where are they, by the way?”
“If I had to bet, I’d say they were sound asleep on my pillow. Listen, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to leave my apartment tonight.”
He looked at the door, barely hanging on to its frame, then stared at me. “Jennifer, stubborn is one thing, but this just isn’t happening. There’s no way I’m letting you stay here until we get a steel door to replace that one.”
I looked at the door and realized that he was right. “Just let me get Oggie and Nash. So what are we going to do about him?”
“Jody and Jim are both coming. They’ll be here any minute, so they can take Wayne to jail and I can take you home. Let me call Cindy and tell her what’s happening. She’s worried sick.”
As Bradford called his wife, I looked in on my roommates. I couldn’t find them at first, but when I glanced over at their carriers, I saw that they’d I crawled inside and were waiting patiently for me. I didn’t know what was up with them, but for once I didn’t care. It made my life easier, and that was what I counted. I grabbed a change of clothes and a few toiletries, stuffed them into an overnight bag, and by the time I came back out, Wayne was gone.
“They got him already?” I asked.
“He wasn’t any problem, and I told them if Wayne tripped a few times, well, we can always claim it happened because he was drunk.”
“They’re not going to hurt him, are they?” Though I was not one of Wayne’s biggest fans, I didn’t want to see him beaten up. Well, not any more than I’d already pounded him, anyway.
“No, they’re good men, both professional. Don’t worry. He won’t bother you anymore.”
I smiled weakly. “Because of the law, or because of my baseball bat?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say a little bit of both. Do you have everything you need?” he asked as he gestured to the carriers and the bag slung over one shoulder.
“I’m set. If anybody wants what’s left, they’re welcome to it.”
We drove in silence to my brother’s place, and I was glad it was dark outside. I couldn’t control the shakes, but I’d stood up for myself when it had counted.
Cindy was standing near the door when we got to their modest ranch, and she ran out to hug me before I could even get inside. “I just got off the phone with Lillian and Sara Lynn. They wanted to come over.” Bradford shook his head. “You told them not to, didn’t you?”
“I said it was your decision, but if you want to stop them, I suggest you call them right now before they can get dressed.”
Bradford turned to me and made what I knew was a heavy sacrifice for him. “Do you want them here, Sis?”
I shook my head. “I just want to go to bed and forget this ever happened. Give me your phone. I’ll call them.”
Bradford said, “Don’t worry, I can handle those two.”
I waited, my hand outstretched, and he finally handed me the telephone. “I swear I don’t know, what I did to deserve so many stubborn women in my life.”
Cindy kissed him on the cheek. “You’re just a lucky man, I guess.”
Bradford laughed softly. “Are the kids still asleep?”
“Are you kidding me? I don’t think an explosion would wake them up right now. I just wish I could sleep like that.”
I called my sister and aunt, making our conversations as brief as possible. Yes, I was fine; no, I didn’t want any company; and yes, we’d talk about it the next day.
Cindy waited until I was finished, then said, “Jennifer, I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Me too,” I said, the fatigue suddenly overwhelming me.
Bradford said, “There’s just a few questions I want to ask you, and then you can go to bed.”
His wife wasn’t about to stand for that. “Bradford Shane, your sister is ou
r guest. She’s obviously worn down to the bone. She’ll be here in the morning, so you can ask your questions then. In the meantime, let her rest.”
I thanked Cindy, promised Bradford we’d talk later, then walked downstairs to the guest room in the basement. Once I was there, I opened Oggie and Nash’s carriers, but the rascals wouldn’t come out. Too much excitement, I supposed as I crawled onto the bed without even taking my clothes off.
Sometime in the night they got out and joined me, and when I woke up, I felt two small sets of engines purring against my ribs.
HANDCRAFTED CARD TIP
Don’t know what to say inside your carefully crafted card once you’ve made it? Sometimes I use lines from my favorite poems, quotations or songs, and there are other times I think simplicity works best. Over the years, I’ve sent cards that say “Simply Because,” You Are in My Thoughts” and “Missing You.” In handcrafted-card making, it is, above all else, the thought that counts, and that you care enough to make it yourself.
Chapter 15
It always throws me off when I wake up in a strange place, not that I’ve made much of a habit of it over the years. Once I was oriented, I gently nudged Oggie and Nash far enough so I could get out of bed. When I glanced at the alarm clock, I saw that I’d slept in till nearly nine, a modern-day record for me. Ten minutes later I walked into the kitchen, led there by the ambrosia of fresh pancakes.
“Am I too late for breakfast?” I said, stifling a yawn.
Cindy was sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper, and Bradford was working at the griddle; my brother had on his police uniform with an apron over it that said kiss the cook.
“You’re just in time. Are you ready for some flapjacks?” Bradford asked. “If you don’t like those; we’ve got pancakes and hotcakes. It’s your choice.” It was an old family joke, offering me three names for the same thing.