His eyes followed her gaze to the table. “No. Maybe Hal dropped it off. Does he have a key?”
She nodded. “He does. Maybe it’s from Beck and Mia. You know, like a thank-you for being their unofficial wedding planner.”
She put her purse on the counter and unwrapped the present. When she opened the box and looked inside, she stood for a moment, staring at the contents.
“What is it?” Grady asked.
She reached into the box and held up crudely torn strips of white eyelet.
“It used to be a dress,” she told him. She dropped it back into the box. She looked up at Grady. “I think I know who broke into my shop. There was a woman in Bling the other day who came in and tried on this dress. She wasn’t sure if she wanted it or not, so I put it in the back to hold it in case she came back.”
“Get Hal on the phone,” Grady told her. “Tell him what you just told me.”
She did, and Hal arrived within minutes of her call.
She wasn’t as happy to see Maggie as she was to see Hal.
“Are you riding shotgun in the cruiser these days?” she asked her mother, who trailed into the house with Hal.
“Don’t be a smart-ass,” Maggie replied. “I have the right to worry about my daughter.”
“Don’t start with me.” Vanessa had led them into the kitchen.
Hal went straight to the box. “Ness, I’m assuming you opened this. Grady, did you touch it?”
“No. I doubt you’ll find any prints on there except Vanessa’s,” Grady told him.
“This was here when you came back from your walk?” Hal asked.
Vanessa nodded. “We came in through the front door—”
“Which I’m assuming was locked?”
“Yes.”
“Any idea how someone could have gotten in?” Hal asked her.
“Back door,” Grady said. “The lock was picked. Expertly done, I might add.”
Grady walked through the small back entry and pointed to the door. “An amateur would have taken out the lower glass pane and turned the latch. The door was unlocked as you see it when we came in, but it wasn’t obvious until we started looking after Ness found the box.”
“So tell me again about this woman you mentioned on the phone. When she was in the shop, what she looked like, any conversations you might have had with her.” Hal took out a pad and pen.
Vanessa ran through the woman’s visit to the store.
“She said her name was Candice,” she told him as she finished up, “but that’s probably not her real name. Oh, and Steffie saw her coming out of Sips yesterday when she—Stef—was on her way to the Inn for the wedding.”
“How did Steffie know who she was?” Hal asked.
“Stef was there the other day in the shop when ‘Candice’ came in.”
“I’m going to want to stop down and have a chat with Steffie, then, see if she can add anything to what you told me.” Hal folded the notepad and tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“She might. I went into the back of the shop for a moment while Stef was there, so they might have had some conversation,” Vanessa recalled. Then, thinking about how considerate she’d been to her would-be customer, she began to steam. “You know, I felt sorry for her. She just looked so … I don’t know, unhappy or downtrodden.”
“Like she was having a bad day?” Maggie asked.
“More like she was having a bad life. I offered to hold the dress for her—and I did, it was still on the hold rack in my office yesterday. And I even offered to give her a nice discount on the price because I felt sorry for her.”
“Why?” Grady stuck his hands in his pants pockets and leaned against the wall.
“Because the dress was a little on the pricey side, and I thought it might make it easier to make the sale.” Vanessa stared at Grady for a moment, then added, “Oh, all right, it was because she wasn’t dressed well and she looked like someone who didn’t have a lot of nice things and she said the dress had looked nice on her when she tried it on. She sort of lit up a little when she brought it back out of the dressing room. I wanted her to have it, okay?”
“Let’s assume for a minute that she was the person who broke into your shop last night,” Grady offered. “If she liked the dress all that much, why wouldn’t she have just taken it with her? Why destroy something she really wanted?”
“That’s the odd part, that she’d take the dress only to rip it to shreds. Why would someone break in, take the dress, destroy it, and then wrap it up and give it back to me? She’d have to know that I’d make the association to her right away.”
“No woman in her right mind would do that,” Maggie thought aloud. “That’d be like painting a big sign on her back: ‘I Did It.’ ”
“Well, she may have been involved, but I don’t think she was behind it,” Grady said. “I don’t think she was the person who broke into the shop and beat up on the car.”
“Those instincts of yours again, eh?” Vanessa asked, and Grady nodded.
Hal pulled on rubber gloves and replaced the lid on the box.
“Ness, do you have a paper bag?” he asked.
She nodded and got one from the pantry.
“Here you go.” She handed it to him.
He tucked the ribbon into the bag.
“Guess that’s it for now.” He picked up the box and the bag. “I’m going to take this down to the station and see if I can lift some prints. I’ll send someone down this afternoon to see what we can lift from that back door and the table.”
“I’ll bet you don’t find any.” Vanessa followed him from the room. “I’ll bet she wore gloves when she wrapped that box.”
“Was she wearing gloves when she tried on the dress?” Grady asked.
“Of course not … Oh.” Vanessa followed his thought. “Can you get prints off of fabric?”
“Depends.” Hal walked out onto the porch. “We’ll see what we can find.”
“I’ll bet there are prints on that price tag,” Maggie said when she reached the front door. “I never saw a woman yet who picked up something in a fancy store and didn’t sneak a peek at the price.”
“She did. She looked at the tag.” In spite of herself, Vanessa was impressed that Maggie had thought of it. “And she looked at some other things. A pair of shorts … madras plaid. They’re probably still in the shop. There’s only one pair like them. Red, blue, yellow, green, and white plaid, Hal.”
“I’ll stop and look for them. Sue down at the station is real good with lifting prints. If we’re lucky, we’ll find prints on the tag and dress that match prints from the box. And then if we’re really lucky, we’ll find them on record somewhere,” Hal said over his shoulder as he walked toward his car. “I’m going to send Sue over, see what she can get from the door and the table. We’ll get back to you, Ness.”
He stopped midway down the path and turned around. “In the meantime, I’d feel a lot better if you’d stay over at my place.”
“Why can’t you just park a police car in front of my house all night?” She frowned. “I hate that someone could drive me out of my house and I don’t even know why.”
“Well, it’s going to be easier to figure out the why once we figure out the who.” Hal continued walking to his car. “Regardless, you shouldn’t be staying here alone.”
“Vanessa, maybe I could—” Maggie began but Vanessa cut her off.
“Thanks anyway, but no.”
Vanessa waved good-bye and watched Hal and Maggie get into the car and drive away.
Vanessa went down the steps and picked up a few dead tulips she’d missed the day before. She could feel Grady’s eyes on her.
“What?” she asked.
“Hal’s right. The least you can do is have someone stay here with you,” he reasoned. “I guess it’s out of the question that you take Maggie up on her offer.”
She glared at him. “What do you think?”
“I think that narrows the field,” he mu
ttered.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“I am so mad at this woman.” Vanessa began to rail. “This ‘Candice.’ Who the hell is she and why is she doing these things? What could I have done to her that she’d want to destroy my business and scare me?”
“Let’s finish this discussion inside.” He held the door for her, and she followed him into the living room, sat when he did.
“Maybe it’s someone you’ve had words with.”
“I don’t ‘have words.’ I hate confrontations. When it comes to arguing, I’m always the one to back down. I’m such a wuss. I’ve apologized for things I didn’t do just to avoid having someone yell at me.” She pulled her feet up under her. “How else to explain not one, but two abusive marriages? I just wish I knew who this woman is and why she’s so angry at me. And after I was so nice to her.”
She tried to think of someone she’d offended in the past, and other than a woman who’d bought a leather bag and returned it because the strap broke after she’d used it three times, Vanessa could not think of anyone who’d be holding a grudge against her.
“You know, maybe your first instinct was the right one. Maybe Eugene did get out early for good behavior or something—hard to imagine his behavior being that good, but I suppose people can change. Maybe the D.A. forgot to let me know. Couldn’t find my address. That’s possible, right?”
Grady put a hand on her shoulder. “I have some bad news about him, Ness. I had someone make some calls this morning.”
“Oh God, I’m right, aren’t I?” Her face went ashen. “He’s here in St. Dennis, isn’t he? He’s been inside my house.” She started to hyperventilate.
“No, no. He wasn’t here, Ness. He couldn’t have been. He’s dead.”
“What?” Both hands flew to her heart. “Dead? Did you say Eugene’s dead?”
Grady nodded. “I’m sorry, I—”
“He’s dead.” She blinked a few times. “Dear God, I feel like one of the Munchkins.”
“Munchkins?”
“Yeah, you know, the little people from The Wizard of Oz? ‘Ding dong, the witch is dead?’ ”
“Let’s go into the kitchen. I’ll get you a glass of water.”
“I’m fine.” But she let him lead her into the back of the house. “It’s wrong to be happy that someone died, right? I mean, maybe he changed while he was in prison, maybe he found religion and he’s turned himself around. It would be bad to be happy that someone who’s rehabilitated himself is dead.”
“He was in a fight with another inmate and his neck was broken.” Grady turned on the cold-water faucet. “I doubt he was rehabilitated.”
“Oh, good.” She fanned herself. “Because I’d hate to be this happy if he died a good man, and—”
He filled a glass of water and held it to her lips.
“Drink,” he told her. “You’re on the verge of babble.”
She took several long sips, then grabbed the glass from his hands.
“I’m okay. Thank you.” She took some deep breaths. “He’s really dead? You’re sure?”
“Unless someone in the prison system thinks it’s skippy to lie to the FBI, I’d say, yeah, he’s really dead.” He watched her for a moment. “Are you okay?”
“Okay? Gene is really dead.” She shook her head. “I never saw that coming but yes, I’m okay with that. When did you find out?”
“I asked my old boss if he’d have someone check, just to make sure this guy was still behind bars. I honestly thought we’d get confirmation that he’d been released on parole. I had him pegged for the break-in. But I got a call while we were at the brunch this morning. Gene Medford is definitely dead. I didn’t want to tell you at the restaurant, and then later, we were walking, and I was just happy being with you, and you seemed so relaxed. For a while, anyway. The truth is, I didn’t want to bring him along with us. I didn’t want to spoil that time together.” He looked a little sheepish. “Well, I ended up doing that anyway, I guess. But I thought it would be better to wait until we got back here to tell you.”
“You didn’t spoil anything. Sometimes you make me think about things that I don’t necessarily want to think about, but that’s on me, not on you.”
She put her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest.
“I’m not sorry that he’s dead, Grady. He made my life a living hell.” She thought of all the times in the past she’d wished that something—anything—would happen to remove Gene from her life. “I used to dream that his car would get stuck on the train tracks and he couldn’t get out in time. Or that he’d be eating lunch at work and he’d choke to death. Stuff like that. And in the dreams, someone would come to my house to tell me, and I wouldn’t cry. I’d just say, ‘Oh, thank you for letting me know. Bye.’ And I’d close the door, and then I’d wake up. I never really thought he’d die, ever. Like someone that mean couldn’t die like ordinary people.”
He wrapped his arms around her.
“But you were married to him. You loved him once. You could cry for him if you wanted,” he told her. “Don’t feel like you can’t cry because I’m here.”
“Are you serious?” She pushed out of his arms and raised her shirt up, then turned around so he could see her back. “One of the ways Gene liked to wake me up when he’d come in drunk was to put his cigarette out on my back.” She looked over her shoulder and met his eyes. “Do you really think I’d waste a tear crying over him?”
“Jesus, Ness.” Grady was visibly stunned. He touched the scars gingerly, as if afraid that they had not healed. “Jesus.”
Vanessa pulled her shirt back down.
“I wasn’t showing you so you’d feel sorry for me. I just wanted you to understand.”
He nodded, but as if still stunned, he didn’t reply. He just held her.
Finally, he said, “Maybe this woman, Candice, maybe she was involved with your ex. Maybe she blames you because he’s dead.”
“Maybe. She had that look about her.”
“What look is that?”
“The look of a woman who’s afraid of being hurt,” she told him. “A woman who’s used to being hurt. Just because he was in prison doesn’t mean he couldn’t have hurt her. He could have just beaten her down with words, the way he used to beat me down.”
“Give Hal a call and run that past him.” Grady stood and took his phone from his pocket. “Meanwhile, I’ll see if the FBI can get a list of all of Gene’s visitors.”
She called the station, and he called John Mancini and had a long talk with him. Grady walked out into the backyard to improve reception, and when he returned to the kitchen, Sue was already setting up to start taking prints.
“It’s all yours,” Vanessa was saying. “Doors, counters, kitchen table, whatever.”
“Thanks. I’ll try not to get in your way.” Sue looked over her shoulder and smiled at Grady. “I’ll be out of here as soon as possible.”
“You won’t be in our way.” Vanessa turned to Grady. “I’m going to drive Grady to pick up his rental car.”
“Oh, and Hal said to tell you he called a locksmith. He’s having your locks changed. He said he’d leave the new keys at the station if you weren’t here when the guy finished up.”
“Great. Thanks.” Vanessa turned to Grady. “You ready?”
He nodded and waved to Sue. Vanessa grabbed her handbag from the counter, where she’d earlier tossed it.
Grady had left Vanessa’s car in the driveway and he now returned the keys to her. They got in and she backed out, maneuvering carefully around the patrol car that Sue had parked a little too close to the end of the driveway. She drove to the rental car’s location on the highway.
“Look at all the pretty cars.” Vanessa pulled into the lot and stopped behind a gorgeous black luxury sedan. “You don’t suppose they’ll let you take this one?”
Grady laughed. “It’s a beauty, but it won’t do me any good where I’m going.”
“Oh, right. Nature man. Wilderness hiker.” She nodded. “I guess you wouldn’t want to leave something that pretty out all by its lonesome while you explore the wild.”
He laughed again and opened the car door. “This might take a few minutes. Come on in.”
“I can wait here.”
“I’d rather have you come inside with me.”
“All right.” She got out of the car and locked it, then followed him inside. While Grady tended to his paperwork, she walked around the reception area. There was a radio playing somewhere in the back of the building. She could hear U2 singing about a beautiful day, and she almost laughed out loud.
Oh, it’s been a beauty of a day, all right.
She stood at the window and looked over the cars in the lot, and tried to pretend that it didn’t matter that he was picking up the car that would take him away from St. Dennis, and from her. She tried to block Candice’s sad face from her mind. She tried to forget that Maggie was in town and spending way too much time with Hal. The only good news she’d had that day had been about Gene. That was one demon she could put to rest forever. It was almost surreal to think she would never have to be afraid of him ever again.
“Got it.” Grady was at her elbow, keys in hand. “Thanks, Ness. Let’s go.”
When they got outside he said, “How about I follow you back into town? I need to pick up some things at the Inn.”
“Sure.” She was still smiling when she got into her car, and when she drove from the lot, waving to him as she pulled her sedan in front of the four-wheel-drive SUV he’d just picked up. But her smile faded as she merged into the line of traffic and forced herself to take several deep breaths.
You knew he was leaving today, he told you that right up front. You knew and you let yourself get involved with him anyway, her little inner voice lectured. And don’t make this more than what it was: a fun weekend. A fling. You used to do flings.
“I don’t do flings anymore,” she said aloud.
Well, you had one this weekend. Let it go. Move on.
The Chesapeake Diaries Series 7-Book Bundle: Coming HOme, Home Again, Almost Home, Hometown Girl, Home for the Summer, The Long Way Home, At the River's Edge Page 19