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Her Sister's Shoes

Page 25

by Ashley Farley


  With Eli and Faith by her side, Sam moved on to the sitting room. Curtis had knifed the upholstery on the sofa and club chairs and smashed the glass in the frames of the family photos scattered about. Using Jamie’s baseball bat, he’d shattered the screens on the flat-screen television as well as the desktop computer. And he’d written graffiti on the walls in what appeared to be ketchup and mustard—bitch and slut, respectively.

  “We should take pictures.” Eli held out his iPhone to use as a camera. “If you have homeowner’s insurance, they will replace your valuables and pay to have the house professionally cleaned.”

  “What’s valuable to me, Eli, are things like Jamie’s artwork.” Sam pointed to the ruined watercolor above the mantel. “He painted that in art class his freshman year. That’s a scene from his favorite spot on the inlet. Those things cannot be replaced.”

  Faith hung her head in shame. She’d warned her sister this might happen, but that didn’t make her feel any less guilty.

  Eli removed a small notepad from his top shirt pocket. “We need to determine what valuables are missing. Jewelry. Cash. Things like that.”

  “I hadn’t even thought of that,” Sam said, raking her fingers through her short hair. “Let me go check my room.” With Faith and Eli on her heels, Sam dashed down the hallway to her bedroom.

  “None of my jewelry is worth much, except the diamond studs I bought for myself and the silver bangle Jamie gave me for Christmas two years ago.” She opened her jewelry box and poked through the contents. “Which are both gone.”

  “What about the pearls Daddy gave you?” Faith asked, thinking about her own pearls tucked away under the lining of her suitcase.

  Sam poked a little more. “Nope. They’re gone too.” She closed her jewelry box and took in the rest of the room, the pile of shredded clothes strewn across her bed and floor. Her eye caught sight of an empty metal box on the floor of her closet. “Oh God, no.” She dropped to her hands and knees and dug through the shoes and handbags in her closet. She sat back on her feet, dazed and bewildered. “I can’t believe that bastard took Jamie’s gun. My father gave Jamie that revolver, Eli. It was the first gun Daddy ever owned. How do you replace a sentimental object like that?”

  Eli helped Sam to her feet. “I will get Jamie’s gun back for him, Sam, if it’s the last thing I do. And when I find Curtis, I’m going to make him pay.”

  Faith sensed a change in Eli. Despite his obvious feelings for Sam, he’d maintained a professional approach to their case. Until now. Faith could tell by his clenched teeth and the deep grooves in his brow that the situation had become personal.

  The house phone rang, startling them all back to reality. Sam reached for the cordless, her eyes zeroing in on the caller ID. “Mom, I’m in the middle of something. Can I …” She paused, listening, the color draining from her face. “I’m on my way. Lock your doors and stay in your bedroom. I’ll let myself in with my key.” She ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed.

  The hair on the back of Faith’s neck stood to attention. “What happened?”

  “Curtis broke into Mom’s house. He was waiting for her when she got out of the shower. He held her at gunpoint and demanded she give him all the money in her wallet. I assume the gun was Jamie’s, since the police confiscated his.”

  “He won’t get far on five dollars,” Faith said,

  “She had five hundred dollars on her, Faith. Apparently she was planning to do some early Christmas shopping on Sunday.” Sam made for the door. “I’ve got to get over there.”

  “I’ll drive you.” Eli removed his handheld from his belt and barked some orders to his partner. “I’m leaving Swanson in charge while I’m gone,” he said to Faith. “He’s bringing the kids inside where they’ll be safe.”

  Sam and Eli had barely cleared the front door when Swanson came down the hall with her exhausted sleeping daughter in his arms.

  “Let’s put her in here.” Faith entered the room ahead of the policeman and swept the remnants of clothing from the bed to the floor.

  Swanson lay the sleeping child on the bed. When Bitsy rolled over and closed her eyes, Faith pulled the coverlet up over her daughter’s small body. When she straightened, she saw the love note from her husband. Using her Pink Possibilities Maybelline lipstick, Curtis had scribbled Die Bitch on the mirror above the bureau.

  “What do you make of that?” she asked Swanson, her head inclined toward the mirror.

  Swanson grew still. “I have to treat that as a death threat.”

  “That’s what I thought,” she said, and began sorting through what was left of her wardrobe on the floor.

  The time had come for Faith to set in motion the plan she had been formulating for days. She refused to let Curtis take his anger out on Sam. She hoped that removing the cookie from the cookie jar would eliminate his temptation.

  While she waited for Sam to return with their mother, Faith packed the clothes that were still wearable and shoved the scraps of ruined garments in a trash bag. She was folding Bitsy’s clothes into her suitcase when Jamie appeared in the doorway.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, kicking the suitcase under the bed where he couldn’t see it.

  “I just got a text from Sean,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Cooper has regained consciousness.”

  Thirty-Two

  Samantha

  Sam stepped over the debris on the floor in a hurry to get to the brown paper bag she’d left on the island earlier. She removed the bottle of Wild Turkey from the bag, got a glass from the cabinet, and poured herself two fingers of brown liquid. She kicked it back in one gulp.

  “That’s not going to help, Sammie,” Lovie said.

  “Like hell it’s not.” Sam poured another shot.

  Eli searched for a clean spot to set Lovie’s overnight bag. “Listen to your mom, Sam. The booze might seem like it’s helping now, but when the drinking spirals out of control, and it always does, you’ll have another whole set of problems to deal with.”

  “I’ll worry about that when it happens. Right now, this whiskey is making it a hell of a lot easier for me to face this mess.” She downed the brown liquid and went to the laundry closet for the broom.

  “Mom, guess what!” Jamie arrived on the scene with Faith on his wheels. “Sean just texted me. Cooper woke up.”

  “Oh, thank heavens.” Lovie’s hand flew to the rusty key around her neck.

  Sam stared at her mother in disbelief. “I just told you that, Mom, remember? Jackie called while we were in the car on the way over here.”

  Lovie’s face turned red. “Oh yes, of course. I remember,” she said, although no one in the room believed her.

  Sam softened, reminding herself that a deranged lunatic had just robbed her mother at gunpoint. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, Mama.” She put her arm around her mother’s shoulders. “It’s been a tough night.”

  Lovie patted Sam’s hand. “I understand. You’re under a lot of stress.”

  Sam locked eyes with her sister across the room. Aside from making a poor choice of husbands, none of this was her fault. “Jackie insists we stay at her house. Why don’t you take Mom and Bitsy, and Jamie if he wants to go, on over tonight while I clean up here?”

  “No way I’m leaving you here to clean up by yourself.” Faith glanced at the clock, hanging askew on the wall. “It’s almost nine, anyway. Bitsy is sound asleep, probably out for the night.”

  “If we all pitch in, we can have this mess cleaned up in no time,” Lovie said.

  Sam took in the eager faces of her family members. Lovie and Oscar had led by example, teaching Sam and her sisters that hard work is the foundation on which everything in life is built. “I can’t offer you any dinner in this mess.”

  “We’ll clean up first and worry about food later,” Jamie said.

  “Let’s get to work, then.” Sam handed her mom the broom and returned to the laundry closet for additional supplies.

  “My shift
ends at nine,” Eli said, lining the bottles of Lysol, Windex, and Soft Scrub up on the island as she handed them to him. “I’ll run Swanson over to the station, change my clothes, then come back and help.”

  “Eli, really. You’ve already done enough.” Sam grabbed a handful of rags and a bucket, and closed the closet doors. “We will have this all cleaned up in a flash.”

  “And you’ll be starved when you finish. How about if I grab some food on the way back?”

  Too tired to argue, she said, “On behalf of my cleaning crew, I accept.”

  Once the policemen were gone, Sam divvied up the chores. She assigned Jamie the job of cleaning the counters in the kitchen and removing the photographs from the broken frames around the house. Faith was responsible for scrubbing the graffiti off the walls while Lovie swept the kitchen floor and vacuumed the sitting room. Sam retreated to her bedroom with the bottle of Wild Turkey, where she tackled the mess in her closet and on the floor.

  Eli returned an hour later with a bag of burritos, and they gathered around the now-clean island to eat. While devouring their food, they discussed Cooper’s health. According to Jackie, the doctors anticipated a full recovery.

  Why can’t Jamie be so lucky? Sam thought.

  After they finished eating, Eli joined the cleaning brigade by scrubbing the ketchup stains on the sisal rug in the sitting room with a stiff brush and hot soapy water. Sam sensed him watching her while they worked, keeping tabs on the number of times she refilled her glass. She considered him a friend—he’d certainly earned that title—but they were far from being close enough for him to criticize her for drinking too much.

  They’d done all they could do, without a gallon of paint and a steam cleaner, when they decided to call it a night around eleven.

  “What’s to prevent this from happening again?” Sam asked Eli when she showed him to the door.

  He pointed at the police cruiser parked across the street. In the dark, Sam could barely make out a figure in the driver’s seat.

  “That unit will be here as much as possible throughout the night, but I can’t guarantee they won’t get another call. We’re keeping tabs on your mother’s place as well. We’ll reassess the situation in the morning. Your best option for safety is the security system at your sister’s house.”

  “Has anyone checked Faith’s trailer?” Sam asked.

  “We sent a unit out there earlier. The place was locked up tight with no one in sight.”

  “I’m sure he’s hiding out with one of his sleazy friends, waiting to make his next move.”

  “All the more reason for you to move to your sister’s house as soon as possible.”

  Sam wished Eli good night and double bolted the front door. She hated leaving her home unattended, but she realized her family would feel safer with an alarm system at Jackie’s house. And, with her mom now staying with them, they needed the extra space.

  Sam went in to check on Lovie, to see if she needed an extra blanket or pillow.

  “I’m sorry to put you out of your own bed.” Lovie ran her hand across the empty space beside her, the rusty key and chain wrapped around her wrist like a rosary. “There’s plenty of room if you want to sleep in here with me. I promise I don’t snore.”

  “Oh yeah?” Sam said, her eyebrow arched in question. “How do you know you don’t snore?”

  “Your father never complained of me snoring.”

  “That’s because he was too busy sawing logs himself.” Sam lowered herself to the edge of the bed. “I may crawl in with you later, but I don’t think I can sleep just yet. I need a little time to decompress.” Sam pulled the covers up under her mother’s chin. “You had quite a scare tonight. Are you okay?”

  “I’m not afraid of Curtis. Next time he comes after me, I’ll wallop him with my cast iron skillet.”

  “You will do no such thing!” The image of her mother chasing after Curtis with a frying pan brought a smile to her face, even though she knew Lovie was crazy enough to try it. “Leave the pan whacking to the police. Eli is doing everything he can to find Curtis.”

  “Eli has a crush on you, you know?”

  “I doubt that, after my behavior tonight,” Sam said. “I just hope he finds Curtis.”

  “Isn’t that the truth? We will all feel better with him behind bars.” She held up her hand, letting the chain and key dangle from her wrist. “Maybe my key fits an old jail cell.”

  Sam ruffled her mother’s hair. “Give the key a rest, Mom. At least for tonight.”

  After peeking in on Jamie, Sam double- and triple-checked the windows and doors, making sure everything was locked up tight. She peered through the plantation shutters, taking comfort in the presence of the squad car across the street. She poured another stiff bourbon and wandered around the house, assessing the damage. Faith had scrubbed off most of the graffiti, but the ketchup and mustard had left permanent stains on the walls. Painting was easy enough, a task she could knock out on a Sunday afternoon, but the damage to the upholstery on the sofa and chairs was beyond repair. The television would have to be replaced as well, as would the Xbox.

  She had homeowner’s insurance, but after she paid the deductible and Jamie’s first-year college tuition, she would have little left in her savings to bail Sweeney’s out if sales continued to decline.

  The broken glass from the frames had scratched many of her treasured family photographs, pictures dating back before the age of digital cameras. She no longer had the negatives. Those memories were lost forever. When she got her hands on Curtis, she’d do worse than beat him over the head with an iron skillet. If he came within a mile of her, she’d put a bullet right between his eyes. The twins kept an arsenal of weapons at the farm for hunting. Good thing her father had taught her how to shoot a mosquito off the butt of a billy goat.

  Sam passed out in a bourbon coma on the sofa sometime around three, only to be awakened four hours later by the relentless ringing of Faith’s alarm clock.

  “Turn that damn thing off,” Sam hollered, wincing at the pain of her own voice echoing in her head. She reached for the nearly empty bottle of bourbon on the coffee table, and shoved it under the sofa where no one could see it.

  When Faith’s clock continued to buzz, she yelled, “Come on, Faith, I’m exhausted. Turn it off.”

  After several more minutes, she rolled off the sofa and stumbled down the hall to the guest room where she discovered Faith’s bed empty and her suitcase gone. Her nightmare from a few nights ago came rushing back to her. In her dream, Faith had been wandering around a dense forest of pine trees at night, dragging her suitcase behind her with Bitsy hanging from her hip. Sensing a presence lurking in the forest, her sister had begun to run. With only the light of the full moon to guide her, Faith ran for what seemed like miles, dodging in and out of the pines, until she came to a dead end at the water’s edge. She could either jump in and swim, or turn around and face her assailant.

  Sam had woken up in a cold sweat, with Curtis’s malicious grin embedded in her memory.

  Even though she knew she wouldn’t find her, Sam search the house from one end to the other for her sister. Faith had warned Sam that she might go into hiding. While Sam applauded her baby sister for having the courage to make good on her threat, she knew Faith had placed her life, and her daughter’s, in even more danger. Being out in the open, without her family to protect her, made Faith and Bitsy easy targets. Curtis was out for revenge. And not just against Faith. He wanted Sam’s blood as well. He’d harbored his hatred for her since that Christmas Eve long ago.

  Sam found her cell phone, the battery dead, at the bottom of her purse. She plugged the phone into the charger and waited for it to power up. Her phone pinged with incoming emails and chimed with one lone text message from Faith: “Thanks for everything. Don’t worry about me. I have a plan. I can’t continue to put your lives in danger. xoxo Faith.”

  Sam dialed Eli’s number. His voice was husky with sleep when he answered.

 
“Eli, it’s Sam. I’m sorry to call so early, but Faith has disappeared.”

  “Disappeared? As in kidnapped?”

  “I don’t think so. She sent me a text message. She and Bitsy have gone on the run, but she didn’t say where. At some point, she mentioned a shelter.”

  “Does Faith have access to a computer?”

  “Only mine, which—”

  “Curtis destroyed in his rampage yesterday.” Eli sighed. “All right.” Sam heard the rustling of bed sheets. “Let me get down to the station. I’ll stop by the market later and let you know what I find out.”

  Sam set six strips of bacon in a pan to fry, knowing the aroma would rouse her mother and Jamie out of bed. They both appeared, bed-headed and groggy-eyed, within a few minutes. “We have a problem,” she said, and went on to explain Faith’s disappearance.

  Lovie’s eyes grew wide. “But she has nowhere to go.”

  “I think Faith has in mind to go to a shelter, Mom. Eli is already on the case. With any luck, she won’t get far.”

  Lovie fingered the key around her neck. “Poor little Bitsy, shuffled from here to yonder. She must be scared to death.”

  “I’m sure Faith is taking good care of her daughter.” Sam returned to the stove, forking the cooked bacon onto a paper towel. “In the meantime, we have other important things to worry about, namely, how we are going to manage the busiest weekend of the year with two of our employees gone.”

  “Thanks to Roberto, we have enough food to last a week,” Jamie said.

  “I’m not as worried about prepping the food as I am about having the staff to wait on the customers. I fully expect business to pick up this afternoon, with homeowners eager to arrive ahead of the renters.”

  Sam’s day flew by. In between servicing the crowd that had begun to trickle in early, she processed a shipment of seafood and stocked the wine racks and produce bins. But the constant distractions didn’t stop Sam from worrying about Faith. Her panic accelerated as each hour passed with no word from Eli.

 

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