Savage Sourdough

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Savage Sourdough Page 14

by Mildred Abbott


  “What? But Susan said….” I gaped at her. “She doesn’t know?”

  Mom shook her head. “No. Mark has a lot of pride. It would crush him if his sister and wife knew he couldn’t afford the building.”

  Still gaping, I caught Barry’s reflection in the rearview mirror. “You’ve been letting him have the property rent free for years?”

  He shrugged like it was no big thing.

  I thought back to my short time in the charming store, back to Mark’s anger at me. “He hates you.”

  Barry nodded, then shrugged. “Yeah, kinda. He’s embarrassed. And resents feeling indebted to me. But he’s got four kids to help support. I don’t need the money. Though I don’t need word getting out to my other renters that he gets by without paying.”

  I sat in silence until we pulled up to the hospital. I was nearly as blown away by Barry’s story as I had been by Katie’s only a couple of short hours ago.

  Watson tried to get out with me when I exited the van and whined when Mom held him back.

  “You get to visit with Barry. It’ll be like Christmas. I’ll see you soon, buddy.” Feeling like a traitor, I shut the door, gave a wave, and walked into the hospital.

  “So, you and Watson got the all clear?” Leo smiled sweetly as he slid into the chair next to me in the hospital waiting room.

  “Watson’s clean bill of health was a little bit shinier than mine.” Leo’s arm brushed against mine as he repositioned to angle himself toward me. And I nearly sighed at the contact. I chalked it up to an overly emotional few days. That was all it was. “I have bruised ribs, a minor case of whiplash, and cuts that needed cleaning, but other than that, I’m good to go.”

  He gave a sympathetic grimace. “I’m glad you’re okay, but bruised ribs can make themselves known for quite a while.”

  “Pretty lucky, considering.”

  “For sure.” Leo let out a long, stress-filled breath. “Hopefully, Katie will be, too. Although, from what it sounds like, she’s lucky to still be with us at all.”

  By the time I’d gotten checked out, Katie was having more tests run and wasn’t in a place where she could handle visitors. “Any news yet?”

  “She was still pretty out of it when I left. But she was rattling off everything she knew about head injuries. It was like an episode of Jeopardy! in there.” He chuckled affectionately. “I know she’s worried, but with all the stuff she was remembering, my guess is she’s completely fine. Though she’s going to have an impressive egg on her head for a while.”

  Relief flooded through me. If Katie was inundating Leo with random facts, she was definitely herself.

  “The nurse said she’d come get me when Katie could have visitors again. I’m sure she’ll let us both go in.” A playful gleam came into his honey-brown eyes. “I was thinking, since we don’t know how long we’ll be waiting and Katie had just told us all that stuff….” He almost seemed nervous. “Maybe we could start investigating right now.”

  “Investigating?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “I know I’m behind where you are. I’ve not solved any murders, and I don’t even know about the Mercy Killings, but we both have smartphones. I figure we can look up some of the victims. Maybe we’ll see a family member or something we recognize.” Though nervous, there was a little-boy-hopeful quality that was beyond endearing.

  “You did tell me before that you were a fan of the Hardy Boys books when you were a kid. Do you want to be Joe or Frank?”

  “Either or, maybe some combo of the two.” His smile changed. “As long as you’re in the role of Nancy, I figure I’m in good hands.”

  Though it should’ve been the last thing on my mind—quite literally the very last thing—I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d read things wrong between him and Katie earlier that afternoon. He hadn’t looked at me like that in weeks. At least not that intensely. Maybe Watson wasn’t the only one feeling closer to me due to near-death experiences.

  “Great idea.” I pulled out my cell, as much to have a reason to look away as anything else. “But, when you type into the search engine, make sure you say the Mercy Killers, not mercy killings; those are two very different things.”

  Quite literally, within five minutes, we were both inundated by information, and any thoughts of where Leo stood on the possibility of romance with either Katie or myself fled, as did any hint of chemistry between the two of us. It was one thing to hear Katie talk about what her parents had done; it was quite another to read about it, to see pictures.

  There were eleven victims in all. Eight of them had been couples—it was horrifying to read about how Katie’s parents had used their date nights to kill other husbands and wives. Two of the people hadn’t been couples, just killed individually. The final one, the one who’d sent Katie’s parents to jail, had been another couple. The husband had been killed, but the wife escaped.

  Leo’s normally glowing complexion was ashen as he looked over at me. “I don’t blame Katie for keeping this a secret, not even for having a hard time accepting that someone was shooting at her because of this. I can’t imagine having to face all this again.”

  “None of this is Katie’s fault. None of it.” I realized my timbre had spiked and I’d nearly bitten his head off. “Sorry. I know you weren’t saying that it was.” My irritation switched to shame. “It’s just that I’ve had to remind myself of that several times as we’ve been reading.”

  “That’s okay. As long as we keep reminding ourselves of that, we won’t slip in front of Katie.” He grimaced, and when he spoke again, his gaze was focused across the room and he seemed a million miles away. “And I thought my past was hard.”

  Before I could ask about that comment, or even decide whether I should, my phone buzzed in my hands. I yelped and then laughed in embarrassment when Leo turned to smile at me.

  “I think I about jumped out of my skin.”

  “You and me both.” I expected it to be Branson, but it wasn’t. I didn’t recognize the number, but I answered it anyway. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Fred. This is Susan.” Her voice was clipped and to the point, but without the hostility it normally had when we spoke. Not that we’d spent much time chatting on the phone. “We found the car that hit you. It belongs to….” There was a pause. “Um….” Then another pause. “I guess I should ask how you are. Did you get checked out? Is Katie okay?”

  I nearly laughed at how formal and uncomfortable she sounded. “I’m fine, and Katie is still having tests done, but Leo thinks she’s okay.” Susan was trying. She really was. “Thanks for asking.”

  She grunted, paused again, and then sounded like herself once more. “The car belongs to Angus Witt. It was abandoned just outside of town on Highway Seven. Literally off of Highway Seven. And its journey down the mountainside didn’t end nearly as well as yours. But it was empty.”

  I racked my brain, trying to place the name and conjure a face. Then it came. “Angus Witt? The guy who owns Knit Witt?”

  Susan snorted. “Yep. Dumbest name for a knitting store I’ve ever heard.”

  I thought it was kind of cute, but I didn’t say so. “Why would Angus try to kill Katie? Is he connected to the Mercy Killers?”

  “No, Fred.” Susan sighed like I was suddenly trying her patience. “I know you were just in a car wreck, but turn on that brain you claim belongs to a detective. The car was stolen. Angus didn’t even know it was missing. Though how you can have your car stolen and not realize it is beyond me.” She chuckled again. “Now that I think about it, maybe his store is named appropriately.”

  “Right. Of course.” I couldn’t even blame her for her annoyance. That should have been obvious. And strangely, it was almost grounding to hear her familiar disdain. “I guess that’s good. Maybe you can find some viable fingerprints, or possible DNA in the car. Between that and the shooting scene—”

  “I don’t need the rundown of how to do my job. I was just calling to let you know because—” She stopped abruptly, and
I could almost see her scrunched-up expression. “I don’t know why I thought I should let you know.” She cleared her throat. “Keep your nose out of it, and let me handle this. You take care of Katie and that weirdly short dog of yours.” With a click, the line went dead.

  I smiled over at Leo. “You know, I almost think Susan is starting to like me. Or at least not wanting me dead.”

  Before he could respond, a nurse stepped into the waiting room. “Katie’s tests are over. She’s back in her room and asking for you both.”

  “All I’m saying is that my bakery does the world a service.” Katie had checked to make sure Watson and I were okay and then promptly became lost in a brain trivia wormhole. “Sixty percent of your brain is fat. Sixty percent!” She smiled triumphantly. “It’s the fattiest organ in your body. Therefore, all my carby, buttery, deliciously fatty foods make people smarter.” She nodded in victory, winced, and then held up a fist in victory nonetheless. “I’m truly helping make America great again.”

  “At least someone is.” Leo shot a wink in my direction and seemed on the verge of laughing.

  “Maybe all the bread we’ve been eating lately helped protect your brain. If the doctors are right and you’re simply walking away with a concussion, at least as far as your brain is concerned, I call that a win.” I gestured toward my face as I addressed Katie. “And we kind of look like twins.”

  “Careful, that’s proven to be a dangerous thing.” She grimaced. “Once I’m out of here, I’m splurging for the expensive face lotion from now on. After having glass pulled out of my cheek, I realize I’ve been neglecting my skin.” Katie had more lacerations on her face than me, but none bad enough to require stitches, and the glass had miraculously missed her eyes as well. “But you’re right, a concussion isn’t too bad. Did you know you can live without half your brain? For certain… issues, they actually go and basically turn off half your brain. It doesn’t affect your personality or anything.” Her brows creased. “I can’t think what that issue is?”

  “Maybe seizures?” Leo didn’t sound overly certain.

  Obvious relief flooded over Katie. “Yes. That’s exactly what it is.” The relief was short-lived, and she looked at me with wide, terrified eyes. “I knew that. Why couldn’t I remember? Maybe I do have brain damage.”

  “Sweetie, you have more random facts stored in that brain of yours than all of the Guinness World Records books combined.” I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help but chuckle. “And I’m fairly certain you’ve managed to list half of them in the past ten minutes.”

  “Oh, sorry. I’m probably driving you both crazy.”

  “Not at all!” I reached out and squeezed her hand, careful to avoid all the different lines and tubes going into her. “I love it. Every fact you throw out shows that you are still totally you.” Though we’d been laughing, my throat constricted at the sentiment, and my eyes stung. “I’ve almost lost you too many times this week.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” She smiled up at me and reached over to pat my hand. “You really don’t think I have brain damage?”

  “Not at all.” Leo sat gently on the other side of the bed and pointed to her right leg. “A cast for six weeks, huh? You’re going to feel like you’re in junior high with all the signatures you will get.”

  Katie scowled. “At least six weeks. Maybe more. They can’t be sure until the swelling goes down. But they think it’s just a broken fibula.” She turned to me. “How in the world am I supposed to spend all day baking on crutches?”

  I nearly said we’d find her a new assistant baker, but couldn’t bring myself to dismiss Sammy so easily. “I’m pretty sure if you lost your arms and legs, you’d still find a way to bake.”

  “Probably so. I do have strong teeth.” Katie chuckled and winced.

  I gave her a commiserating stare. “They said our bruised ribs could take up to six weeks to heal as well. Going to be quite the pair, you and I.”

  “Still, considering all that’s happened, things could’ve been so much worse.” The humor had left Leo’s voice. “We gotta figure out who’s doing this, and quick. This is the third time they’ve tried, so far.” He leveled his gaze on Katie. “You’ve been the lucky one. We can’t depend on luck holding out. We need to end this.”

  I told myself I wasn’t going to bring up Katie’s past. She had enough on her plate with being stuck in the hospital for the night. But he was right. Every second this person was free was another opportunity they had to try to hurt Katie. “You feel up to talking a little about it with us? We were going over case details in the waiting room. We thought maybe some aspect of the victims’ families might jump out at us. Nothing did yet.”

  “You guys were reading about the killings?” Katie glanced back and forth between us, looking nervous.

  “We read about the things your parents chose to do.” Leo’s tone was soft and warm. “You’re just as much a victim, Katie. You lost your parents, at least who you thought they were. You’ve had to live with it ever since.”

  “You don’t deserve this. You didn’t do any of it.” I hoped, in time, between Leo and myself, Katie would be able to accept that we weren’t going to judge her or see her any differently.

  Katie took a shaky breath and nodded slowly to herself. She looked up again, her gaze hard and determined. “That’s not entirely true.”

  I stiffened but managed not to give any more reaction. “What do you mean?” I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to that question.

  Katie didn’t hesitate like she had at the bakery. “I take it you read about all the victims?”

  Leo and I nodded, but neither of us spoke.

  “Then you probably read about their last victim. The final person they killed was a man. But they’d kidnapped his wife as well. Amy Stone. She escaped.”

  Amy Stone. I latched on to the name. “That’s right. How did I not think of that in the waiting room?” I turned to Leo. “She’s the one. Payback for her husband. If we find her, this will end.”

  He nodded and started to say something, but Katie cut him off.

  “No. She committed suicide a couple of years later. I have no doubt why.” Katie no longer made eye contact. “So in essence, my parents killed her too.” She sniffed and seemed lost to the past. Leo and I sat silently, neither knowing what to say. Finally, Katie cleared her throat. “What I meant was, before that couple, before Amy and… John….” She cleared her throat again but didn’t seem able to clear the emotion from her voice. “Before them, Mom and Dad were almost caught for another murder. One a little over a year before.” She finally looked at Leo and me again. “I was their alibi. I swore they were with me. I lied.”

  I blinked. And it took me a second to remember that Katie wasn’t talking about the woman who sat in front of us that very moment. Not at all. But a child version of herself. The twelve-year-old. No… if it had been the year before, an eleven-year-old, maybe even ten; I wasn’t sure.

  “Katie, you were a kid.” Leo was faster than I was. “Of course you lied.” Though he’d started out with a comforting tone, his words grew dark and heavy. “It’s amazing the things that kids will do for their parents. It’s… not their fault.”

  Even in her semi-distressed state, Katie cocked her head quizzically at Leo.

  I reminded myself that none of this was about Leo. “Besides that, I find it hard to accept it all came down to the word of a child. Especially the child of the suspects.”

  “There were other factors. I’ve gone back and looked… many times. Some of the things weren’t handled right.” She shrugged. “But my statement was a portion of the deciding factor.” She straightened, looking defiant. “So you see, it is my fault. At least the death of John Stone. And Amy.”

  I started to object, but Katie shook her head.

  “Don’t.” Her gaze flashed to mine but then darted away.

  Leo and I stayed where we were on either side of her, but neither of us spoke. We exchanged glances, but we didn�
�t seem able to come up with what to say. Not that Katie was open to us coming to her defense either way.

  I wasn’t sure if seconds or hours passed. Probably seconds, but the silence dragged on so long that the beeping of the machines beside Katie’s bed began to sound like a high-pitched drum line. “I’m going to close the Cozy Corgi tomorrow. That way, if you get out of here tomorrow morning like the doctor stated, we can spend the day watching The Great British Bake Off, or”—I attempted some humor—“if they have you on enough pain medication, you’ll allow me to watch reruns of Murder She Wrote.”

  To my relief, Katie gave an exaggerated shudder. “I don’t think there’s enough pain medicine in the world. How can you even think about watching more murder?” She attempted a smile. “But there’s no reason to close the store. You don’t need me there to sell books.”

  “That’s not up for debate. I want a day off, and if I have to use my best friend as an excuse to do it, then I will.” I smiled. A genuine one. “And if you have to stay here another day, I’ll bring Jessica Fletcher to you.”

  “How you can choose Jessica Fletcher over Paul Hollywood makes absolutely no sense.” Katie almost sounded like herself. “Maybe we should ask them to give you an MRI while you’re here. Check and see if there’s brain trauma somewhere.”

  “I have your compromise. I own the box set of Planet Earth. Its hours of pure heaven.” Leo waggled his eyebrows. “The version narrated by Sigourney Weaver. It’s the most perfect thing ever made.”

  Katie and I looked at each other and began to laugh, then let out twin winces of pain. I swatted at him. “It doesn’t take a detective to figure out who in the room is the park ranger.”

  He shrugged, unconcerned. “Fine, I’ve also got seasons of Narcos and Orange Is the New Black.”

  “You know….” Katie grinned at me. “Jessica Fletcher is sounding better every minute.”

  We continued debating the merits of television until it became clear there wasn’t one show all three of us could agree on. It felt good to be silly for a little bit, even if laughing was uncomfortable. To forget about the world of murderers, dark pasts, and hospital rooms.

 

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