by Linda Hanna
“Amen.” Dahlia’s quick hug brought Cora back to the present. “Just rest an’ don’t give another thought to those men-folk, I’ll take care of ‘em.” She turned off the light. “I’ll put your pie in the fridge, too. Be sure an’ tell me what ya think, because it’s a new recipe I form’lated for my next cookbook. Give me a holler if ya need anything, ya hear?”
Cora swallowed the knot in her throat. “Thanks, Dahlly.”
With that, Dahlia closed the door.
Exhausted, Cora rested her head on the down-filled pillow and listened as raindrops pelted the bedroom window. Why didn’t Ed and Dahlia believe her? They were the people closest to her. She rolled over and wiped the tears that trickled down her cheek. The caller must be someone from her past, but who? She pressed her eyes tight as her mind rehashed bits and pieces of that last phone conversation. There was the envelope he mentioned. That didn’t ring any bells. It must hold something precious or he wouldn’t threaten Ed’s life over it. If she didn’t give it to him, would he really expose her secret like he promised?
She groaned. Had Ed contacted Patrick, yet? He was her only proof of a prowler. A low rumble of thunder announced another wave of violent weather. Her problems were like the relentless monsoons. “I can’t handle this, God.”
Cora turned on the bedside lamp, plucked a tissue from the night stand and blew her nose. As she reached for another tissue, her eyes settled on the family portrait taken years ago when Vanessa was still at home and life was good. Their youthful images drew her into a rush of bittersweet memories. They were so happy, then. Why couldn’t things have stayed that way?
She was drawn to Ed’s handsome features, which reflected strength and character. His healthy appearance and athletic physique were evidence of the many hours spent on the golf course. It had been so easy to fall in love with him at first sight. Cora dabbed her eyes. How long had it been since they’d actually said, ‘I love you’?
Between the PGA tour and running his own golf course in Saguaro Valley, Ed was kept away from home, leaving her alone. Oh, if she had a nickel for every frozen dinner eaten with only reruns of the Andy Griffith Show for company. And the plethora of jigsaw puzzles she worked on until her eyes crossed. In spite of this, their marriage was based on trust in God and mutual respect and remained intact. Cora twisted her platinum wedding band and squeezed her eyes shut. Trust in God and mutual respect. The thought pricked her conscience.
Her secret defied both attributes, and she sensed Ed struggled with their crumbling marriage, too. There was nothing she could do about it. At least, not yet.
Cora wiped the tears, and looked back to the photo and the diminutive young lady standing behind Ed. She kissed her fingers and touched her daughter’s likeness. Vanessa’s death had strained their marriage to the point that it might never recover. Ed couldn’t understand the pain and emptiness that continued to haunt her. She tenderly hugged the picture before returning it to the drawer. How she longed to hold her daughter close once more.
Again, thunder ripped through the atmosphere. The lamp flickered, drawing attention to the Bible beneath it. The Holy Book beckoned her to open its well-worn pages. For as long as she could remember, scripture had always offered hope and reassurance. Since the loss of their daughter, Cora’s mind could no longer grasp its promises.
Sunday after Sunday, she and Ed returned to the same pew where they had once worshipped with Vanessa. Of course it was difficult, but Vannie used to sit there and Cora couldn’t bear to be anywhere else.
Publicly, she sang hymns and kept up a spiritual facade in spite of her grief. In private she couldn’t talk to God. The words were no longer there. A void now existed where God’s peace had once flourished. Life was meaningless. She was alone and it scared her.
The closeness she and her daughter shared was painful to remember. They couldn’t have their cozy chats over coffee or laugh about the kids’ antics. In spite of all that pain, she was still thankful for the precious memories. To let go would be a betrayal. The lingering grief threatened to smother her, especially after their son-in-law, James, remarried less than a year after Van’s death. Cora gritted her teeth. She was trying her best not to be prickly about Jocelyn, but a father of three teenagers had no business with a twenty-four-year-old flirt.
The oft-quoted verse Romans 8:28 came to mind. All things work together for good to them that love the Lord.
She frowned. “How could anything good come from that tragedy, God? Why would You take Van when she had those beautiful children to raise? Is it good for them to be brought up by a self-centered girl?” She wailed. “What about me? I don’t even get to see my grandchildren since Jocelyn had them move so far away.”
Cora pursed her lips. Lashing out at God wouldn’t change the situation. Was He even listening?
At that instant, lightning and thunder collided and shook the room. A nudge from God? A tingle coursed down her spine and brought on an intense shudder. She closed her eyes, determined to regain composure. Maybe getting ready for bed would get her mind off things. It was worth a try. She made her way to the adjoining bathroom.
Cool water on her flushed cheeks did little to help. Secrets. Death threats. How did her life sink to this level? She took a deep breath, and glanced into the mirror at her own image, now the reflection of a stranger. “Who are you, Cora?” Her secret was bound to come out. Then what would happen?
She patted her face dry and looked into the mirror. Her blue-gray eyes were puffy from tears and fatigue. Faint worry lines on her paled complexion had become more obvious since the harassing calls began a few weeks ago. Well, a thick layer of Velvety Dew moisturizer would help with damage control.
Cora reached for the miracle cream, and braved another look at herself. She sucked in her cheeks and let them free fall back into place. A frustrated sigh escaped as she considered smashing the mirror with the jar.
She hurried to her bed and turned the light out as the brewing storm erupted full force. A tremendous burst of light exploded in the dark heavens as rain once again pelted the windows. Cora pulled the comforter over her head. Lousy monsoons.
In spite of her weary state of mind, she continued to dwell on the random pieces to the puzzle. Maybe once the fog lifted she could get more of the fragments to fit.
Minutes ticked by, and drowsiness drew her into a restless sleep. The jangling telephone startled her into consciousness. Cora was shaken and disoriented from being awakened so abruptly. Again, the phone by the bed vibrated with its harsh ring. Why didn’t Ed answer it? She reached over and turned the ringer off.
Thoughts of the last call snaked into her confused mind. The crackling interference made his raspy voice barely audible, still, it was clear he knew her secret.
Her throat tightened as she relived the phone call. Her heart quickened, and she struggled to breathe as the gravity of the situation emerged. Who was this man from her past? How could he know about the secret? Only one other person knew, but he’d never tell.
Somehow this stalker could see her and even knew when she was alone. Was he looking in the windows or did he have cameras hidden? Cora shivered at the thought of television shows about voyeuristic perverts. She pulled the blanket tight under her chin, her eyes darting from side to side. Could he see her now?
Cora looked at the ceiling for telltale signs of cameras. Aha! Light fixtures. It couldn’t be all that hard for her to take them down and check. Then again, she could see herself dangling from the chandelier, her legs violently thrashing about as electrical currents jolted through her body. No, no, no. The handyman was paid to do stuff like that.
Lightning flashed. The caller’s menacing remark echoed in her ears. “Thought you’d get away with it, didn’t you? After all those years and what you put me through, did you really think you’d never hear from me again?”
All those years? What on earth had she done to the man? Cora shook her head. Why couldn’t she recall doing something so offensive that this guy would take ye
ars to track her down? The only reasonable explanation was that it had to do with her term as county treasurer. She couldn’t think of any major altercations or scandals during that time.
How did the woman caller fit into the picture? Cora rubbed her temples as she groped for answers. Had she done some utterly despicable deed to her, too? Both times she called, her voice sounded shaky and frightened as she delivered her perplexing message.
The man’s phone call earlier tonight was just as cryptic. He wanted her to ask Ed about his very wicked slice—if he made it home. Then came his final ultimatum. “Get me that envelope in twenty-four hours, or I’ll get Ed. You’ll be hearing from me.”
That didn’t give her much time. How could she convince her doubting husband to help her look for the envelope?
Cora struggled to recall more information to plead her case. What about the manila packet? It had a red seal on it. That was probably a good thing to remember. The man insisted Ed put it in their safe. Why would he hide a stranger’s personal belongings in there without telling her? Maybe he did tell her at the time. But that was so many years ago.
A thought hit her between the eyes. Wait a minute. The caller wouldn’t have asked a mere stranger to put something in the safe for him. He had to know Ed. Could her husband have anything to do with this mess? However, if they knew each other, why wouldn’t he just go to Ed and get his stupid envelope back? Why involve her unless…Ed had a reason not to give it back.
None of this made sense. Surely Ed couldn’t be a part of it. There had to be more pieces to the puzzle she’d either forgotten or hadn’t found yet. All the random pieces she had still didn’t fit. Come on, Cora, you’re a puzzle worker. Get that border together.
Another sickening notion hit her. The caller knew what she was keeping from Ed, and if Ed was involved, he would be aware of it, too. Icy fear twisted her heart. The calls only came when he wasn’t home. If Ed wanted her out of his way, he could’ve orchestrated this whole thing.
Surely not. She hid her face in her hands. “Where are you, God?”
Disturbing thoughts circled in her mind until Ed came into the bedroom. A few minutes later, he crawled into bed and called to her in a soft voice. “Toots, are you awake?”
Cora’s heart pounded as she feigned sleep. She was mentally and physically drained, and besides, there was nothing left to say, or do, at least for tonight.
The grandfather clock chimed eleven times. Eventually, Ed ceased to toss and turn and fell into a deep sleep. Hmmm. The sleep of the innocent? Maybe he wasn’t involved. She’d just have to go on blind faith.
However, Cora’s mind refused to shut down. A compendium of clues turned over in her mind. Into the wee hours of the morning, she continued to unravel the terrifying scene at the kitchen sink. Patrick called about a prowler, she made coffee, and locked the windows. That’s when a thump on the patio grabbed her attention, and her eyes caught movement. Two hooded men were out there. The scuffle started.
She rolled over in bed, closed her eyes, and willed herself to see their faces. If only she could remember one feature, it would help.
Cora sat up. That’s it. Before the one man fell, there was a flicker of light under his hood. He must’ve worn glasses.
She fell back onto her pillow. Big deal. She lived in a retirement complex. Who didn’t wear glasses? Everyone wore hooded jackets during a monsoon, including the three men in her house tonight. Wendell lived for recognition. If he was involved, his daddy and his daddy afore him would spin in their graves. And Sam? Well, he was just too old and wobbly. Then there was Ed. He was two hours late. Blind faith, girl, blind faith.
Then something else nagged at her. Cora’s stomach clenched as she strained to remember what her mind suppressed. Lightning lit the room. Then, it came to her. The hooded man on the patio held something. But what was it?
4
The aroma of their housekeeper’s freshly brewed coffee filled the air and stirred Cora from a fitful sleep. Burning eyes and a desert-dry mouth gave her the first clue she’d blubbered too much the night before. She pried her eyelids open to see the glowing numbers on the digital clock and moaned. Eight-fifteen.
Cora threw the covers back, and dangled her feet over the side of the bed. Like it or not, it was way past time to get up. Ed was probably on his second bear claw by now.
Oh no. He was going to call the police this morning. She took a deep breath, and dreaded the thought of facing them. What could she tell them, anyway? Shadows tiptoed around the backyard…in the middle of a torrential storm…one had something in his hand. Of course, there was her big reveal, one wore glasses. Whoop-de-doo. In the clarity of daylight, her account of the events seemed farfetched. Even to her. Maybe Patrick was home this morning and would confirm her prowler story.
Cora yawned, reached for her silky robe, and searched for her scuffs with her foot. Quack! The sound made her jump. She kicked the duck slippers aside and trudged to the bathroom.
So many thoughts bombarded her mind. She didn’t want the police to pry, but craved protection from a possible murderer. So, like it or not, more of her story had to be disclosed. Within reason, of course.
They’d have to know about the menacing phone calls and the caller’s intent to harm Ed if she didn’t hand over the envelope. Which brought up last night’s unanswered questions. Why didn’t he fork over that envelope to the caller? What made it so important? Money? Ed wasn’t a materialistic person. It must be information. Was the caller blackmailing him?
She rinsed her soapy hands and dried them. No, the man specifically said he tracked her down. What did he call her? An accessory after the fact? Everything he said seemed to point back to her days as county treasurer.
Cora paced the bathroom floor. Surely she’d remember being involved in some misappropriation of funds. Wait! The caller said accessory after the fact. That means he stole money, not her. Maybe she inadvertently helped cover it up. That wouldn’t be good, either. The manila envelope must hold some sort of evidence.
However, if the caller gave the evidence to Ed to hide, then Ed had protected her all along. Was he aware of the contents? If so, that meant he was the accessory to the accessory after the fact. Well, no need to mention any of that to the police. At least not yet.
If that wasn’t stressful enough, she still had to tell Ed about her secret before someone else did. Obviously waiting for the right time was the wrong thing to do.
She glanced at her watch and thought of a million other places she’d rather be, at the bottom of a well, in front of a firing squad, even being the main attraction at the proctologist’s office was more inviting.
Cora ran a comb through her hair and looked into the mirror. With so much tension in her life, she imagined a whole chorus line of wrinkles just waiting to make their debut. She smoothed an extra dab of Velvety Dew moisturizer on her face.
The enticing smell of French Roasted broke into her thoughts. A cup of coffee might clear out the cobwebs. She hoped Lupe made it good and strong.
A quick search for her scuffs was fruitless. She’d have to stick with the fowl footwear, which accessorized her peignoir so elegantly. Cora quacked down the hall, greeted the housekeeper and grabbed a mug of coffee. Then, she headed for Ed’s home office. Cora stopped and poked her head around the corner when she heard Ed speak on the phone. She leaned in closer. What’s a little eavesdropping between spouses?
Ed stood at the office window and scanned his adjacent golf course. “I’m glad you caught that on your calendar, Pastor Luke. That’s no problem. We’ll set up another golf date soon. I’d better let you go for now, the police should be here any time.” He replaced the receiver and turned to Cora. With a warm smile he pulled her into his arms. “Morning, Toots. Feeling better?”
Cora’s voice quivered. “Not really.” She abruptly brushed aside Ed’s attempts at being cheerful. “Why didn’t you get me up before you called the police? And why did you tell the preacher? I don’t want to end up as a sermo
n illustration.”
“You’re always up by seven. I figured you were getting dressed. Besides, you knew I was going to call them first thing this morning.” He tossed his ink pen on the desk. “I tell Pastor Luke everything that’s going on so he knows how to pray for us.” He pulled her close. “And even if we are a part of his sermon, he won’t use our names.”
Cora’s slippers protested as she stomped back to the bedroom. Quack…quack…quack!
“Hey Toots,” Ed called. “You want a bear claw, or some duck chow with your coffee?”
“Arrrggh!” she growled and gave one final stomp. Quack! “Men.” Time to slather on another layer of Velvety Dew.
“Just trying to help,” he called after her.
****
Vibrations rattled the window when Cora slammed the bedroom door.
Ed laughed and shook his head as he sat at the desk. “She’ll get over it.”
Lupe came to the office. “Señor Timms, the handyman is here.”
A silver-haired fellow with a clipboard stood behind her. Ed invited him inside. “Good morning. I heard our former handyman retired. Nice to meet you.”
“The name’s Jack Thurston. Been here two weeks and I’m still finding my way around. Wendell McGibbons has been a big help teaching me who’s who. He seems to know everybody.” Jack’s eyes widened as he shifted the clipboard to his left hand. “Hey! You’re Steady Eddie Timms, the famous golf guy. I’ve seen you on those sports drink commercials.” He shook Ed’s hand. “The wife’s name is Nora, right?”
“Well, you’re close. It’s Cora.”
The handyman looked at his clipboard. “Oh, yeah, so it is. Sorry, I’m really bad with names. Wendell said she wanted new locks installed. From what I can tell, your security system has all the bells and whistles. Are you sure you need new locks?”