by T. K. Chapin
“I’m tired.” His words were soft, broken.
“Detectives Brown and Barnes just questioned me.”
He sat up and furrowed his eyebrows, coming alert in the span of less than a second. “What? What’d they say?”
“Just wanted to know what happened and—”
“Did you tell them?”
“I did. They asked me something odd. Wanted to know if you gave me anything to drink that night.”
He rubbed his chin as he looked to be thinking.
“What is it?” I asked.
He shrugged and then let out a dry laugh. “I’m so paranoid.” He shook his head. “What if they plant something in my house?”
“What do you mean?”
He glanced around and scooted closer as he lowered his voice. “You told them we had tea. Yeah?”
“Yes, why does that matter?”
“Go to my house. Get the key that’s in the metal box on the porch, the combo is 14-3-22. Get inside and get all of my tea out of there. Now.”
“Okay.” My nerves trembled inside me as I felt Hunter might be losing his mind a bit. “You think the cops are framing you, Hunter?”
“Just go.”
“What’s the combo again?” I pulled a piece of scrap paper from my purse and a pen.
“14-3-22.”
Writing it down, I nodded. Looking at Hunter’s eyes, I didn’t know what to think. The cops setting him up seemed like a stretch, but I resolved to give it a shot. It wouldn’t hurt to remove the tea. Folding the scrap of paper, I shoved it in my pocket and got up and left the jail.
As I drove through town, I saw my sister walking out of Dixie’s Diner. What is she doing here? Pulling over to the curb, I got out and called out to her. “Abigail.”
She turned around and her eyebrows shot up. Extending her arms, she ran up to me and hugged me. She was beyond weirding me out like the other day, and now she was achieving strangeness. She had never come out to Newport. It had been the same monthly lunches and dry conversations for a while. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“What’s going on? Why are you here?” I asked as we pulled away from our embrace.
“I need Dad’s Rolex.”
Taken aback, I adjusted my footing and crossed my arms. He had given me the Rolex on his deathbed, and it was my saving grace if I ever needed to get out of a situation in a hurry. It’d easily sell for thousands. “Why on earth?”
She looked around and then grabbed me, pulling me away from the sidewalk and passersby to the wall of the diner. She removed her sunglasses and let out a long, drawn sigh as she shook her head. Her eyes were red and puffy. She had been crying. “Jared. He convinced me to quit my job and he’d take care of me and his brat of a child. Two days in, and I backhanded the mouthy little girl.”
“That’s insane and so unlike you!”
She frowned. “I know . . . You told me kids were ‘blessings,’ but I have to say I was right all along.”
“So things didn’t work out?”
She shook her head. “No. They certainly did not! Now I can’t go back to my job at Roger’s Advertising Firm because they already filled my position, and I can’t afford my bills, Miley! I need the watch!”
Pausing for a moment, I enjoyed the moment. It was sinister of me, but Abigail had it coming. She had held herself up on a pedestal for so many years and gloated about all the gobs of money she had, but now, she was dead in the water. “No savings?”
She pursed her lips and shook her head. “No. I never had one.”
I raised my eyebrows at her as I smiled, and she knew how much I was enjoying it.
“Stop enjoying this, Miley!” she scolded.
Shaking my head, I said, “How can I not? You’ve been so snooty snobby for years.” Thinking about the break-in, I thought of her. “Wait. Did you break into my house?”
A blush consumed her face as she looked away from me.
“You jerk!” I said, shoving her shoulder. “How could you?”
She stepped closer to me. “I couldn’t face you until I had to. You’re so messy. I couldn’t find that blasted watch anywhere! Then I took one look in your room and thought, no way!”
Thinking of Hunter’s request down at his house, I felt a sense of urgency come over me. “You scared me. I was home! I hid in the freaking closet! What on earth were you thinking? Regardless, I’m not giving you the watch, Abigail. If you need a place to crash, you can stay with me for a while until you figure it out. That’s the best I can do to help you out.” Turning, I started to walk back to my car, but she caught my arm with a hand.
“Please? I can’t live in an apartment with you out here in Hicksville.” I had pity for her, but not enough to give up the watch that was given to me for a reason.
“I can’t.” Grabbing her long fingers, I pried her off my arm.
“Can I at least use your car to go back to my place and get some stuff? My car’s still in the shop. I took a cab out here.”
“Sure,” I replied. Taking my keys out of my purse, I gave them to her. “Please hurry back to the apartment. Oh, and the watch isn’t there, so don’t rummage through my stuff again.”
“All right. Thank you.”
Turning, I started down the sidewalk to Hunter’s house.
CHAPTER 10
My eyes kept jumping next door to Terrance’s place to see if he’d make an appearance outside as I made my way up the walkway to Hunter’s porch. Seeing the metal box on the porch, I went over to it and with trembling fingers did the combination to open it. Taking the key from inside, I glanced over my shoulder to the street and then opened the front door. A creak sounded from the hinges as the door opened wide. Is this tampering or interfering with a police investigation? I wondered as I stepped inside. Will I be joining Hunter in jail if I get caught? Particles in the stagnant air inside mingled with the sunshine as it streamed through the open slats of the blinds along the window Hunter and I had stood at just the other day. Hurrying, I walked across the hardwood floors in the living room and went into the kitchen.
Searching through cupboards, I looked for the box of tea. Plates, bowls, cups, random food items and then, there on the top shelf, above the Mac N Cheese, I saw the box of green tea. Pushing up on my toes, I reached to grab it when suddenly, I heard the sound of someone fumbling with the front gate. My heart raced and I turned around, looking for what I could do. Seeing the back door, I darted across the kitchen floor and grabbed the handle, but it wouldn’t open very easily. Spotting the pantry nearby as I heard feet hit the porch steps, I quietly tiptoed over and went in, carefully closing the door.
The footsteps found their way inside. Each step was slow and echoed loudly. My heart began beating hard, hard enough that I could feel it in every part of my body. Praying silently as the footsteps became louder, I asked God to help me. Help me survive.
The steps made their way into the kitchen as a man’s voice called out, “Newport Police. Is anyone here? The door was unlocked. Come out. I know you’re in here.” Wait, I thought to myself. I know that voice. It was Henry Forbes. Is he in on this?
Footsteps continued into the kitchen. Closing the cupboard, the police officer made a call on the radio saying there was a possible break-in. Hearing him rustle around in the cupboard the next moment, I knew exactly what he was doing, but what could I do? Another pair of footsteps suddenly entered the house.
“Hello?” It was Luke. My heart pounded harder. What are you doing, Luke? Get out of here! I thought to myself.
Hearing the undoing of Henry’s gun on his waist, I panicked and grabbed the door to open it, but Officer Forbes revealed himself without shooting. “Newport Police! Put your hands up!”
I released the doorknob, staying put as I heard a small thump hit the ground and sounds of something spilling out like beads scattering across an ice rink. “Whoa. I’m just here to feed Frito.”
Hearing the sound of the gun go back in the holster, relief washed over me.
“Sorry. I’m here on official police business. You shouldn’t just walk inside a house, kid.”
Ha! Says the cop that did just that very thing! I thought to myself. Adjusting my footing, I could feel my elbow press against a box. As I shifted, I could tell it was going to fall, so I reached a hand around and grabbed it, pushing it back into its place. Taking a deep breath, I continued my wait.
Hearing Luke apologize and pick up whatever had fallen, he told the officer he wouldn’t be long. He just needed to make sure Frito got his food and water for the day. Luke and Officer Forbes walked into the kitchen. Luke headed out the back door while Officer Forbes stayed behind in the kitchen. He’s going to take the tea! Ugh! Adjusting once more, I got comfortable and waited for the two of them to leave.
After escaping Hunter’s house undetected a while later, I headed down to Luke’s grandmother’s house to talk to him. Knocking on the door, I waited for someone to answer. Luke did, but he stepped out onto the porch in his socks and shut the door behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “My grandma is super sick right now. I think she might have pneumonia again. I might take her to the hospital in a little bit.”
“Awe . . . So sad.”
“I know . . .” His chin dipped for a moment, and then he looked at me, blinking out of it. “What’s up?”
“I was there at Hunter’s when the cop was.”
He stared at me for a moment as he tilted his head. “Really? I didn’t—”
“No. You didn’t see me. I was hiding in the pantry. Hunter thinks the cops are setting him up, Luke. I thought that cop was going to shoot you!”
He laughed and nodded. “I was freaked out to see a cop there, to be honest. Setting him up how?”
“They took his tea. I told the cops Hunter and I had tea the night of the murder when they asked if I drank anything over there . . .”
Luke glared out to the snow and shook his head as he tried to process it all. After a moment, he spoke. “They probably are setting him up. You know Detective Brown is going after a promotion to Sergeant right now . . . I bet he needs this case to be open and shut pretty quickly to keep him looking pretty.” Luke shook his head as he looked at me in the eyes. “It's a shame they’d do this to someone like Hunter.”
“I know, right? A war vet. He’s already been through so much.” My phone vibrated, and I turned to answer it when I saw it was Serenah. The sound of crying and light sobs drew me away from Luke as he stayed on the steps. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
Clearing her throat, Serenah said, “Nothing. It’s done. You can start next Monday.” Her words were broken apart and shaky. Something was wrong.
“Thank you, but something is wrong. I can tell. What is it?” I asked, drawing farther away from Luke as I stepped down the stairs.
“I just fired Wendy. I know it was the right thing to do, but . . .” Her voice quaked and broke apart more. “She asked me how she’s supposed to pay for bills without a job. Told me I was a piece of work and some other stuff I don’t want to repeat.”
Swallowing the lump I could feel forming in my throat, I nodded. “I’m sure it was tough. I’m sorry.” Sniffling and light crying followed more from Serenah’s end of the phone. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that Luke had an overt look of worry on his face. “I have to go, Serenah. I’ll talk with you later.” Hanging up, I went over to him.
“What’s going on?” he asked, worry written across his expression.
Shaking my head, I said, “Don’t worry about it. It was just my friend who was upset. What’s wrong?”
Wiping a hand over his face, he said, “I don’t know . . . I keep meaning to go see him, but I don’t know how I’m going to act, seeing him on the other side of the glass like that.” Luke pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. His words soft, rattling, he said, “I don’t know if I could see him like that. It’d be hard.”
Gently touching his arm, I said, “I understand. Well, I need to get home. Take care of yourself, Luke. I’ll be praying for your grandma.”
We hugged, and he said, “Thanks, You too.”
Leaving, I walked up the sidewalk and started the jaunt to my house. The coolness in the air was a bit unnerving, but I was layered enough to keep my warmth until I made it home. The police had the tea in their possession, and if Hunter was right, they’d be tampering with it to frame him. But could Hunter be right? Could Henry Forbes, the youth minister at Newport Christ Community, be a dirty cop? It didn’t make any sense. Questions whirled in my head all the way home. I saw my car parked out front at the apartment. She’s back, I thought with relief.
Climbing up the stairs to my apartment, my toes had gone numb twenty minutes ago, my legs were shaky from walking so long, and my breaths were short. If I would have had to walk any more, I’d faint. Grabbing onto the apartment doorknob, I felt a rush of relief as the warmth of the inside of my apartment enveloped me.
“There you are,” Abigail said from the couch as she sipped on a glass of wine. Reaching to the coffee table, she picked up the remote and turned off the TV. “I picked up a bottle of wine on my way back out. Figured it was appropriate for the given situation.”
I raised a brow to acknowledge her, but I was too focused on getting into a different set of clothing, preferably something not frozen to my body. Every part of me was cold, so cold that I could feel it in my bones. Walking through the living room, I headed down the hallway to my bedroom. Pushing open the door, I headed for the closet and changed into a pair of sweats, a hoodie, and two layers of clean socks. Once changed, I sat on the edge of my bed to gather my thoughts and thaw.
“Sissy,” Abigail crooned as she pushed open the door of my bedroom. She hadn’t called me that in years. It was her pet name for me growing up for a brief stint in which we got along. She seemed soft, humbled . . . two things I wasn’t used to seeing in her.
Looking at her with a straight-faced smile, I replied, “What is it?”
“I’m going through a tough time right now, and I would appreciate some understanding.”
Letting out an airy laugh with no humor in it, I shook my head. “You don’t even know what I’m dealing with right now, Sis. I’m sorry it didn’t work out with your guy friend, and that really sucks. But I just lost my job, am waiting to start a manager job, and the guy I like is possibly being framed for murder.”
Her eyes widened and her chin dipped to her chest. “Oh.”
“Yeah—oh. I’m really sorry, but I don’t have a lot to give you right now, Abigail. I’m exhausted and worried about what’s going to happen with not only my life, but Hunter’s.”
Abigail grabbed my wrist. “What happened to you?”
“Nothing,” I retorted, pulling away as I turned.
She side-stepped to my side and yanked my shoulder, forcing me to look at her. “What happened?”
I didn’t reply. She could read me, she knew.
“Is this from that Hunter guy?”
“He has issues, Abigail. You wouldn’t understand.”
She stepped back. “Uh-huh.” Glancing around my room, she took a few steps back toward the door. Our eyes met as she stood in the doorway. “Don’t lose sight of the fact that you don’t know this guy very well, Miley.”
My jaw clenched. This man was innocent. Why didn’t anybody get that? Realizing she didn’t know the story, I told her everything to help her understand. “And that’s why I need to help him. I was there that night with him. He couldn’t have possibly done it. I don’t know if I necessarily want to be with him right now, but I know he’s innocent and I need to help him.”
“I don’t know, Miley. It looked like Hunter got into an argument with the guy at the hardware store.”
“I know.” My chin dipped for a moment and then I looked at her again.
Abigail raised her eyebrows. “Gets into a fight with the guy at the store, and then the guy ends up dead. I’m no detective, but—”
“Stop it, Abigail.” My tone was sharp. I wa
s done hearing accusations from every direction.
She changed the subject abruptly. “Well, I received a phone call from Brookings. Remember that old advertising firm I worked for? They have a spot open for a project manager. I’m going to interview for it in the morning. I’ll catch the bus in.”
“Oh, wow. That’s awesome. God already came through for you!”
“He did indeed.” Abigail was about to leave when I hurried across the floor and stopped her. Turning her around, I looked at her.
“I love you. I’m truly sorry about Jared not working out. I wanted it for you, truly. You deserve to be happy, even if you’re a little . . .”
“High maintenance?” she finished the sentence.
“Yeah,” I said, smiling. We both knew I was thinking something different. Maybe difficult, picky, snotty. It didn’t matter. Regardless of her flaws, she deserved someone who could love her for her. “He just wasn’t the guy for you, Abigail.”
“Thanks,” she said warmly. "Why haven’t you hung those pictures Mom sent you yet? I saw the box next to the TV.”
“I haven’t gotten around to it. I will, though.” Turning around after she left, I got into bed and cuddled up with my pillows and blankets. I thought about Hunter. What happened between Hunter and Kent at the Hardware Store? Gripping my pillows tightly, I prayed as I drifted off to sleep. Then, right before I slipped into sleep, I thought of the argument at Tom’s Hardware store. Maybe someone there could give me answers. Maybe someone there could fill in the gaps I was starting to feel I was missing.
CHAPTER 11
The intercom overhead at Tom’s Hardware store blared with their daily deals the next day. Ignoring them, I went from employee to employee in search of someone who had witnessed the exchange between Hunter and Kent. Arriving in the last section of the store, the paint area, I happened upon the last employee in the store. Weary from the lack of information, I was reluctant to even try.
“Hey,” I said, approaching a young woman behind the counter. Her eyes stayed glued to her cell phone. “Did you happen to see the exchange between Kent and Hunter?”