by Linda Hanna
As Cora reached for an outfit in the closet, her gaze darted back to the window. She dressed and sat on the bed. Being alone hadn’t freed her mind as she’d hoped. The haunting scene she’d witnessed on the patio was still disjointed. No matter how hard she tried, the pieces refused to come together. The only thing for sure was the caller wanted his envelope.
****
Cora immediately felt safer as she left the bedroom and headed for the living room. Noises from the kitchen caught her attention. How embarrassing. Dahlia McGibbons was her guest, not to mention, the star of a popular cooking show. Even though they’d been friends for years, she shouldn’t have to work like a scullery maid. Cora called out, “Let me help you, Dahlly.”
Ed entered the room, fuzzy slippers in hand. “Oh, no, you don’t. Stay put.”
“Well, then you help her.” She reached for her old scuffs and frowned. “Oh Ed, you brought me those silly duck slippers.”
“It’s all I could find.” He reached out and playfully squeezed a duck. Quack-quack. “The kids would be so proud that Grandma’s finally wearing their Christmas present.”
Fear of the intruder was still fresh on her mind. Cora stared blankly at her husband as he plopped down on the sofa. “Stop clowning around, Ed. You should be more concerned about what happened tonight.” She crossed her arms. How could he be so insensitive?
“What do you mean? Of course I’m concerned.”
“You keep sidetracking me, and I’ve been trying to tell you something important.”
Ed put his arm around her. “I’m sorry. I wanted to lighten the mood. Tell me, now.”
“That man on the phone demanded his envelope back.”
Ed frowned. “What envelope?”
“How should I know? But the man threatened your life if he didn’t get it.” Her lip quivered. “When you were so late getting home, I thought the worst.”
“Nobody’s going to hurt us.” He pulled her close and kissed her temple.
Cora rested her head against his shoulder. If only he’d heard the harsh voice on the phone just once, or saw what happened outside their home, he’d understand the danger.
Ed rubbed her arm. “You know God has promised to protect us. You worry too much, Tootsie. Why can’t you just trust in Him?”
“I once had all the faith in the world. I lost it when He didn’t protect our daughter.” She pulled away from him and wiped her eyes. “I can’t imagine losing you, too.”
“If the threats are serious, God will take care of it one way or another.” His gaze focused on hers. “Look, we have to trust. He promised never to give us more than we can handle.”
Cora bristled at the self-righteous comment. She wanted to shake him. Losing their daughter was more than she could handle. Now, he was in danger. His unruffled manner frequently grated on her nerves, but never more than right now. She stared at him. “Maybe you’ll take the threats more seriously when you talk to Patrick. He was looking out his window and saw someone around our house. He called to warn us. Later, there were two people on the patio.” She paused and waited for a response.
Thunder rumbled in the distance as Wendell clamored into the kitchen, coffee pot in one hand, pie carrier in the other. He stomped his boots. “I pert near tripped over that mangy Smudge. Can’t hardly see a black cat at night unless he looks straight at ya.” He hollered, “Hey Ed, best call Sam an’ tell him his critter’s here!”
Ed searched Cora’s eyes. “Mind if we talk about this later? You know Wendell and his sleuthing. He blows things out of proportion. With his input, it would be easy for our imaginations to run amuck.”
Imagination? Was that what he thought? Ed still didn’t get it. Cora pulled away from him as tears threatened. She would not cry.
Wendell ambled into the living room and sat down. Thunder from the dissipating storm grumbled softly in the background, and rendered a more serious tone to the Timms’s conversation.
“I want to know why you were at Sugar Dips so long, Ed.” Cora narrowed her eyes into a critical squint. “It only takes a few minutes to get ice cream. You had to know I’d be worried when you didn’t call home. That’s one reason we have cell phones.”
“The Pastor wanted to get in a round of golf soon. I tried to call you before we made plans. You didn’t answer the house phone, or your cell.” Ed kissed her cheek and offered a gentle, but cautious, smile. “George Shipley and Roger Clark were talking in the corner. Since I’d just fired one and replaced him with the other, I got nosy.”
Wendell’s forehead puckered. “Someone needs to draw an’ quarter that George feller. Now, there’s a maverick if ever I seen one.” He crossed an ankle over his knee. “That varmint sure ain’t got no business with your new feller. Did ya find out what they was jawin’ about?”
“No, not really,” Ed replied. “I want to give George the benefit of the doubt. He was probably giving Roger an earful about some of the rookies at the golf course. Still, their conversation stopped abruptly when I joined them, and George left in a hurry.”
Wendell snorted. “If that don’t beat all. Sure sounds a might fishy to me. There was always somethin’ that didn’t sit right where that feller’s concerned.”
“Go easy on the poor guy.” Ed raised his hand to stop the negative blather. “He told me he’s had a difficult time at home lately.”
The Texan sneered. “I got me a gut feelin’ he’s just pullin’ the wool over your eyes. Mama always said ya can put a boot in the oven, but that don’t make it a biscuit.”
Ed continued with his story. “Anyway, the strangest thing happened once I finished talking to Roger. I went to the car and discovered a flat tire.”
Wendell scooted forward. “There ya are! George had somethin’ to do with it.”
“I think George is smarter than that. He wouldn’t do something so obvious.”
Cora was bewildered. “We just bought those tires last month.”
“I know, but it was flat just the same. I was in a hurry to put the spare on, and forgot to call. Simple as that. Can’t we let it go for now?” He gave her a boyish grin. “Give me some credit, Toots. After all, I did remember the ice cream.”
“Hey, y’all. I got the mess all cleaned up,” Dahlia yelled from the kitchen. “Coffee’s busy brewin’ an’ the pie’s warmin’. It’ll be ready soon.”
“Great,” Ed called back. “Ready anytime you are.”
The cowboy’s hands went up. “Wait a minute. I wanna know about that caller an’ the guy at the kitchen winder.”
Finally! Someone willing to listen to her. Cora turned to him. “Oh, Wendell, when he called, he said he’d been watching me all evening.”
Ed cleared his throat.
She was determined to have her say. “The kitchen curtains were wide open. It took me a while to get brave enough to close them.”
“Ah-humm!” Ed quickly cleared his throat again, this time with more oomph. Cora looked his way.
Being out of Wendell’s line of vision, Ed sliced his finger across his own neck in attempt to quiet her.
Cora disregarded his less-than-subtle hint, and leaned closer to Wendell. “The caller knew I was alone. He even knew what I was wearing.” Her voice escalated. “Worst of all, he threatened Ed’s life.”
Wendell’s eyebrows shot up as he turned to Ed. “I can’t hardly believe ya ain’t havin’ a conniption about this. An’ why ain’t nobody told me of this situation?” His jowls shook in frustration. “I am the senior secur’ty officer around here, ya know. If I’m gonna keep this place safe, I need to know all the comin’s an’ goin’s. My daddy an’ his daddy afore him was always tellin’ me—”
Not in the mood for his tired yarns, Cora interrupted him. “Ed doesn’t take it seriously.”
“People get prank calls all the time,” Ed explained as he sat beside his wife. “They didn’t get threatening until tonight. We had no reason to say anything before.”
“I’m afraid of what that man might do.” Cora w
iped her eyes, then, looked up. “Why would anyone want to hurt us? I don’t feel safe here anymore, Ed.”
“We’re protected by the best home security system money can buy.”
“An’ ya can always count on me.” Wendell added.
“Still,” Cora pulled on her husband’s arm, “I’d feel safer with another deadbolt.”
Ed nodded. “We’ll have a new one installed tomorrow.” He patted her hand. “Try to relax and I’ll call the police. We should’ve done that right from the start.”
“No!” she cried out as a nauseating wave engulfed her. She leaned away from her husband and pressed a hand to her pounding temple. “You can’t call the police. The caller was adamant about not contacting them.”
“I don’t care what he said. If you want this to stop, we’ll have to call his bluff.”
Her stomach continued to churn. It wasn’t just the caller’s threats that upset her. She’d taken great pains to conceal certain things from Ed. She couldn’t let him find out. Not like this.
Excitement sparked in Wendell’s eyes. “I gotta get to sniffin’ around afore the cops get here.” He jumped to his feet and eagerly rubbed his hands together. “Finally, an honest-to-goodness mystery that me an’ my buddy, Jack, can sink our choppers into. I’ll dig into my whisker disguises.”
Ed tossed a frown Cora’s way and whispered, “Oh great. I told you we should talk about this later. Now that you’ve got him worked up into a frenzy, he’ll want to take over.”
The security guard pointed to the phone. “Could ya gimme a few minutes afore callin’ the po-lice? I’d like to go on out, an’ do my prelim’nary look-see.”
Ed came up off the couch. “Hold your horses, Wendell,” he commanded. “You were out there before. Wouldn’t you have spotted something?”
“I weren’t wanderin’ around doin’ my full search. Didn’t check the winders an’ such. I just looked for bodies.”
“If you go prodding out there now, you could mess up any evidence.”
“Looky here, I know what I’m doin’,” Wendell yammered. “My daddy’s Texas Ranger blood is gallopin’ through my veins, an’ I’m hankerin’ to start my ‘vestigation.”
Ed stared into the Texan’s eyes. “This is my property, Wendell. I don’t want anyone digging around until the police are finished.”
The security guard slumped back in his chair. He huffed and laced his fingers atop his round midsection. “How are me an’ Jack gonna crack this here case with just leftover clues?”
Dahlia appeared at the kitchen door. “Wendell Floyd, folks ‘round here got plenty o’ things that need fixin’. That handyman needs to keep his mind on his job.” She motioned for him to follow. “Now, make yourself useful. I need ya to tote the coffee into the livin’ room for me.”
He grumbled under his breath, then obediently uprooted himself from the chair.
Dahlia returned laden with a serving tray filled with pie `a la mode and coffee cups. She set the tray down and wiped a dribble of ice cream from her bejeweled hands.
Ed’s mention of the police worried Cora. If the caller was watching, he’d see the cruiser. She grabbed her husband’s arm and pleaded, “Can’t we wait and call the authorities in the morning? Please? It’s late, and my nerves are shot.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, Toots.”
“I don’t think I can take any more stress tonight.” Cora dabbed her eyes as angry thunder rumbled. “Besides, are you sure the police could find anything in this storm?”
“She’s got herself a point, Ed.” Dahlia’s voice was filled with compassion as she added, “Look how pale she is, an’ she’s shakin’ like a leaf, too. Bless her heart.”
Ed raked his fingers through his thinning hair. “We shouldn’t put this off, ladies.”
“Nope, Ed’s right as rain,” Wendell agreed. “This has to be stopped afore them crim’nals get a foothold.”
A charm bracelet jangled as Dahlia crossed her arms over her ample chest. “Men. Can’t y’all see the poor li’l thing’s just a bundle o’ nerves? Don’t ya ‘member what Sam said? We can’t be havin’ her pass out again. Now, just leave her be.”
Ed gritted his teeth. “Right, but like it or not, first thing tomorrow morning I’m calling the police. Meanwhile, I’ll talk to Patrick and see what he has to say.”
As he dialed their neighbor, Cora was confident Patrick would back her up about the prowler.
It was hard to believe this whole mess began with one lone secret. Now, it spiraled into death threats and a possible murder. A shiver ran down her spine. At least she had all night to think it through. Maybe her nerves would settle when she got her story straight.
3
The living room closed in on Cora as they waited for Patrick to answer the phone. Her head throbbed from the kitchen fall and the confusion that followed. The awful scene outside the window seemed so vivid at the time. Did it really happen? Goose bumps dotted her arms. Where was Patrick?
With a shrug of his shoulders, Ed finally hung up. “Sorry, Toots. Doesn’t look like he’s home, yet.”
“Prob’ly went to check on Letitia.” Wendell stroked his chin. “He does that every time we have a nasty storm.”
Dahlia rubbed Cora’s back. “I think ya need to lay down, girl.” She turned to Ed. “You fellers get started on your snack while I help her to the bedroom. We don’t want to scrape the poor little thing off the floor again.”
Cora’s fuzzy slippers quacked as Dahlia led her down the hall.
Once in the bedroom, Dahlia pulled down the satin comforter, and patted the king-sized mattress. “Here ya go. Get yourself up here an’ rest.”
Cora couldn’t wait to kick the noisy slippers off. She had to be in control if Dahlia was going to take her seriously, and the mallards on her feet didn’t help. “I know I’ve been a little emotional, but I’m not crazy.” The timbre of her voice rose. “There really was someone outside the window. It had to be the caller.”
“What makes ya say that? It coulda been just a neighbor walkin’ through the yard.”
Oh, crud. She didn’t believe her. Cora squeezed her friend’s arm. “Listen to me. No one…no one would have a reason to be sloshing around my backyard in a monsoon.”
“That’s what we’ve been tryin’ to tell ya, Sugar. Nobody with a lick of sense would be out there. Ed was prob’ly spot on about ya seein’ your reflection. Now ya got it all built in your mind that the caller was out there an’ you’re freakin’ out.” Dahlia looked at Cora nose-to-nose while she fluffed a pillow. “Land sake’s gal, ya could worry the warts off a frog.”
Cora’s voice was clipped. “Well, be-that-as-it-may. Patrick phoned and said to lock my doors because there was a prowler over here. The man who called earlier said he could see me.” Her whole body shook at the thought. “He said, ‘You look as pretty as ever in your white pants and purple shirt,’” she lowered her voice to imitate him, ‘Cor-rah!’”
“Now calm down, Sugar.”
“Calm down?” She held her arms out. “That’s what I was wearing. Talk about being spot on!” Cora looked sternly into Dahlia’s eyes. “He threatened Ed’s life and then a few minutes later, I saw him at the window. And you want me to calm down?” She grabbed her friend’s wrist. “He threatened us, Dahlly. He means business, and I have to figure out what he’s after before it’s too late. I could be a widow this time next week.”
Dahlia leaned over and patted her hand. “I understand.”
How she hated to be patronized. Anger and frustration welled as her friend kept talking.
“I’m thinkin’ this has to be a prank caller who’s gettin’ his thrills from your reaction. If ya ignore him, he’ll stop callin’. I know this here’s a silly question, but have ya thought of unpluggin’ the phone when Ed’s gone?”
“Of course I have. He knows every nasty storm reminds me of Vanessa’s accident, so he always calls me if he’s behind schedule.” She looked away. “It was flooding. He
was two hours late. What would go through your mind if your daughter died in a monsoon?”
“Sugar, he was just two blocks away at the ice cream store. If it was me, I woulda thought his fans prob’ly kept him busy.” The charms on Dahlia’s bracelet jingled as she hugged her friend. “Wendell Floyd still bellyaches when I do apron signin’s for my fans.”
Apron signings? Where did that come from? Cora looked at her and frowned. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“Well,” Dahlia said, “fans are always mobbin’ me when I’m on the road, an’ it’s the same for Ed. He’s a world-class golf pro. Steady Eddie Timms is a magnet to every duffer on the planet. Ya know guys are always peltin’ him with questions. They come hustlin’ out like red ants from a burnin’ log.”
A light tapping on the bedroom door caused Cora to jump.
Ed poked his head inside. “How are we doing in here?”
“We’re just havin’ us a heart-to-heart. Go ahead an’ eat your pie. I’ll be out in a flash.” Dahlia gave Cora’s shoulder a squeeze. “I always admired your spunk, but ya kind of let go of it since Vannie’s death. Ya been so jumpity lately. It’s no wonder ya been forgettin’ stuff, an’ seein’ things. I’d like to have my strong an’ confident friend back again.” She patted the pillow. “Why don’t ya lay back, an’ get some rest? You’ll feel better once the storm passes.” Then Dahlia took Cora’s hand. “How ‘bout we pray before I go back to check on the men?”
Cora’s stomach knotted. Dahlia meant well, however prayers hadn’t given her any noticeable relief during the past two years. What made anyone think it would help now?
Dahlia prayed for calmness to return.
Cora wasn’t looking for calmness, although she wouldn’t turn it down. She wanted clear-cut answers mixed with a healthy dose of validation.
“An’ please, dear Lord, give Cora clarity of mind as she…”
Clarity of mind? Was her best friend implying she had an emotional breakdown? Or worse, that she was lying? Either way, Dahlia didn’t have faith in her story. Cora’s heart broke. She needed someone to believe her. Wendell-the-wonder-sleuth from Sweet Pickle, Texas was her only ally. The problem was no one ever took the correspondence-trained detective seriously, either. Her self-esteem took a nosedive. So much for calmness.