by Nancy CoCo
“Wren, where are you?” I heard her say.
“I’m stuck in a shed.”
“Wren?”
I shouted, “I’m stuck in a shed.”
“I can barely hear you . . . Wren?”
I pulled the phone in. It went dead. Okay. So. I set up a text telling Porsche where I was and to bring help. Then, I stuck my hand out and hit Send. At least I hoped I hit Send.
Meow?
“I’m trying.” There had to be a way to get one of us out of the box we were in. I continued to search for something to open the cat’s box. Finally, I discovered a rusted axe head in the far corner of the shed. I wedged it into the crack in the box and was able to open the lid up enough that the nails squeaked. Then, I dug my fingers inside and pulled and pulled.
The lid popped open. I flew back and the cat jumped out of the box, streaked for the hole in the shed, and disappeared. “Well, that just happened.” It’s not crazy to talk to yourself. At least not when locked alone in a shed.
There was no way to know if the cat I’d rescued was Everett. My phone was on the ground beside me and the flashlight off. The shed was far too dim and the cat too fast to have seen the color.
Not that I blamed the cat. If I could fit through the hole, I’d be gone in a flash as well. Maybe if I tried getting a hold of Porsche again . . . I brought up her number in my contacts and stuck my hand out of the hole and pressed the button. I heard Porsche answer.
“This isn’t funny, Wren. Where are you?”
“Help,” I shouted.
“Did you say help?”
“Shed beside Woolrights’.”
“You’re at Walgreens?”
“No,” I shouted. “Stuck in shed behind Woolrights’.”
“Okay, I got ‘stuck,’ ” she said. “Stuck in traffic? What are you doing at Walgreens?”
I eased the phone as close to the hole as I dared. Put it on the ground and shouted, “Locked in a shed by Woolrights’.”
“Well, that I heard,” she said. “How did you get locked in a shed?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not your child. Please get me out.”
“Okay, okay,” she said. “I’ll call nine-one-one. Why didn’t you call them?”
I reached out and hung up on her. Then sat with my back to the shed and waited for the sirens. Calling the emergency responders was the last thing I wanted. It would mean everyone would know I was this close to the Woolrights’ house. Some people might think I was breaking the law.
Which I wasn’t.
I shivered. The ground was cold so I stood up and paced. Telling the truth was the best thing, no matter what people thought. After what felt like hours, I heard voices outside and thankfully no sirens. Pounding on the door, I shouted, “Help! I’m stuck!” Then rattled the door and pounded again.
“Hang on.”
The shed muffled the voice so I didn’t know who it was, but at least someone was there. There was an attempt to open the shed.
I heard “locked” and some more muffled conversation. Then silence.
“Don’t go away. Please don’t go away,” I shouted and tried hard to tamp down a sudden feeling of claustrophobia.
“Wren?” It was Porsche’s voice coming from the hole in the wall. I got down on my knees and peered out. A flashlight shone in my eyes and blinded me.
“Yes, Porsche, it’s me. Can you get me out?”
“There’s a chain and a lock on the door. Jason is getting some bolt cutters.”
“You have bolt cutters?” I know it was a random question considering the circumstances, but I was cold and scared and not in my right mind.
“How did you get locked in there?”
“Do you have any water?” I asked.
“Oh, no, shoot. I can go get some.”
“No, no, no,” I said and stuck my hand out. “Don’t leave me.”
She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “I’m not going anywhere.” I heard a commotion and Porsche muttered, “Oh, crap.”
“What?”
She let go of my hand. Someone else kneeled down and shone a light in my eyes. “Wren Johnson?”
“Yes,” I said and rubbed my eyes.
“We’re going to get you out.” It was Jim and he was not amused.
Within minutes there was the sound of a chain hitting the door and then two men grunting as they pushed the door open. I got out of the shed as fast as possible.
A spotlight illuminated the front of the shed and a cop car was parked next to it. Flashes went off as people took pictures.
Great. There was nothing like public humiliation.
“Thanks,” I said to Jason and Jim.
Porsche put a blanket around my shoulders as I shivered hard. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I said. “Just cold. What time is it?”
“It’s nearly four p.m. You’ve been gone for hours,” Porsche replied.
“What were you doing in the shed?” Jim asked.
The small crowd that had formed hushed for the answer. I winced and my jaw shivered. “Can we go someplace else and talk about it?”
“What’s going on here?” Theodore asked as he pushed through the crowd. “What are you doing?”
“Someone locked Wren in this shed,” Porsche said and put her arm around me. She glared at Theodore. “You wouldn’t happen to know who?”
“What are you implying?” he asked and crossed his arms over his chest. “Clearly you all are trespassing. The Perrys are out of town and they asked me to keep an eye on their house. Now, I’m going to have to report . . . this.”
“I’ve got this covered,” Jim told him. “You can all go home now. There’s nothing more to see.”
“Great,” I said to Porsche. “I’m ready to go home. You didn’t happen to see Everett, did you?”
“Is that how you got stuck in the shed? Looking for Everett?”
“Yes,” I said.
“There doesn’t seem to have been anything more than a prank here,” Jim said. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I said and tried not to shiver. “Just cold and a bit scared.”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“I’m not sure what happened,” I said.
“Well, start at the beginning.”
“Everett is missing,” I said and Porsche hugged me. I went on to tell him about the coffee shop and the sighting of Everett. Then the cat in the box and being locked in the shed.
“Do you think the cat that was in the box was Everett?” he asked me as he took notes.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It was dark and I didn’t get a close look at him. But why would anyone trap a cat in a box?”
“Why would they lock you in the shed?” he asked. “Probably teenagers pulling a Halloween prank. I’ll take the box in and see if we can’t lift some prints. Otherwise there’s little we can do.” He pushed his hat up with the end of his pen. “Rain’s coming. Why don’t you two ladies let Officer Jones take you home.” He turned to another officer. “Jonesy, see that they get home safe.”
“Call me if you think of anything else,” Jim said.
“Thanks for getting me out,” I said to Porsche as I slipped into the back seat of Officer Jones’s squad car. Porsche got in beside me.
The ride back was short and very quiet. The officer parked outside the front of the shop. “Would you like me to go in and make sure you’re safe, Wren?”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I said and gave Porsche a quick hug. “Thanks for giving up your evening with the boys to come rescue me.”
“It was my pleasure,” she said and hugged me back.
I got out, unlocked the shop, closed and locked the door behind me before I waved them on. Officer Jones headed out to take Porsche home. It had been a long day. Porsche was right to close the shop early, even though I lost revenue. I blew out a long breath. All I could do now was hope that Everett came home.
Raw honey can help repair and prevent acne
&nb
sp; breakouts. It not only heals the inflammation but
keeps the skin from producing too much oil. Rub a
small amount of raw honey on your breakout. Wait
ten minutes and wash it off with warm water.
Chapter 19
Pounding rattled my door. I opened one eye. It was still dark out. I glanced at the alarm. The clock read 6 a.m. I had trouble sleeping because I was worried about Everett and had only been in bed a few hours. The back doorbell rang. I put on my cozy, knee-length, plaid flannel robe and tied it around my waist, then stuck my head out the window to see who was making all the noise.
It was Jim and Officer Jones.
“I’m awake,” I called from the window. “I’ll be right down.”
I hurried out the apartment, down the stairs, and into the back of the shop. I paused and checked the peephole. A girl could never be too safe with a murderer on the loose. It was the two officers, all right, and no one else was with them. I opened the door. “Good morning, gentlemen.”
“Can we come in?” Jim asked.
“Sure,” I said. The rain had slowed to a fine foggy mist, which left everything dripping. You could smell the salt air off the ocean. The clouds were low enough to reflect the light from the back alley.
The two men entered. I turned on the hall light and closed the door behind them. “What’s this all about? Do you ever sleep?”
Jim’s mouth was a grim line. “We found arsenic in the shed.”
“I’m sorry?” I wasn’t understanding what he meant.
“There was arsenic in the shed where you were locked inside,” Jim said. “We need to ask you a few questions.”
“Should I get my lawyer?” I pushed my uncombed hair out of my eyes.
They didn’t answer my question and I felt the spit dry up in my mouth.
“I’m going to get my phone,” I said. “You can follow me.”
I went upstairs and grabbed my cell phone from my nightstand. Jim stood in the doorway watching.
“It’s just my phone,” I said and wiggled it. “I’m not trying to escape out the back door or grab a weapon. I’m calling my lawyer now. See?” I dialed Matt’s office number. I got the answering service. Sighing, I dialed the cell phone number he’d given me.
“Hello? Wren?” came the grumpy voice of a man who was woken out of a sound sleep.
“Hi, sorry to wake you, but the police are here again, and they want to talk to me. You said to call you first.”
There was a mumbled curse and the sound of a man getting out of bed. “Where are you?”
“I’m at my apartment above the shop.”
“Don’t say anything. I’ll be in there in fifteen minutes.”
I hung up the phone. “He said he’d be here in fifteen minutes. In the meantime, can I make some coffee? Maybe get dressed?”
“Officer Jones, make sure there’s no other way out of the apartment,” Jim said.
I rolled my eyes. “Just the fire escape through my living room windows.” I went to the window and threw it open. “See?”
“Clear,” Officer Jones said. “There’s no exit from her bedroom.”
It didn’t take long to go through the apartment. It was a two bedroom and one bath with a living room and kitchen combined. “Can I get dressed now?”
“Sure,” Jim said.
I scooted off to my room and closed the door, then changed into yoga pants and a long shirt. I brushed my hair and put it into a high ponytail, then stepped out to catch the smell of coffee.
“I hope you don’t mind that we made some,” Jim said.
“No, I don’t mind,” I said and got down three mugs then poured the coffee. “Milk or sugar?”
“Black,” both men said at the same time.
I poured half-and-half in mine. “Suit yourself.”
More knocking was accompanied by the ringing of my back doorbell.
“I’ll get it,” Officer Jones said and left the apartment.
I took down another coffee mug and poured a fourth cup. “You must think this is pretty important to come here so early. Did you get any sleep?”
His mouth twitched. “Please sit.”
“This is my home. You should sit first. You have coffee.” I pointed at the couch. “Make yourself at home.”
He seemed to blush and sat down. I sat across from him.
“Why did you go to the shed yesterday?”
“I told you yesterday, I went there because a guy from the coffee shop said someone saw Everett there. I miss my cat and I’m worried about him.”
“Why go into the shed?”
“I heard a cat inside.” I sipped my coffee. “I told you that, too.”
“But that cat wasn’t Everett and it ran out of the shed through the hole.”
“That’s right, the first cat I saw was a large orange tabby. It left through the hole in the shed.”
“So you saw a cat run out, discovered it wasn’t Everett, and yet you didn’t leave the shed?”
“No,” I said and leaned toward him. “Like I said, I heard another animal in a box.”
“A wooden box with the lid nailed shut.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t say another word!” Matt stood at the door with Officer Jones behind him. His eyes were red and his usually well-groomed hair was mussed.
“I wasn’t saying anything I didn’t already tell him last night. I don’t know why repeating what I said could—”
“Don’t say another word,” he repeated and unbuttoned his coat. “Until we know why they are questioning you.”
“He said something about—”
“Please don’t be a difficult client.” He stepped between Jim and me. “Why are you here?”
Jim stood. “I wanted to verify the reasons Wren was locked in a shed last night.”
“You were what?” Matt turned to me.
“At first I thought it was an accident and then I learned someone purposefully locked me in. But I didn’t think I needed to call my attorney,” I said.
He turned back to Jim. “Why is my client’s getting locked into a shed important enough to get us both out of bed early on a Saturday?”
“Because we found arsenic in the shed,” Jim said.
“It appears to be the same stuff chemically as what we found in the lip balm that killed Agnes Snow,” Officer Jones said.
“I didn’t know anything about arsenic in the shed,” I said and stood. Adrenaline shot through me. My heart pounded in my chest.
“Don’t say another word!” Matt put his hand on my shoulder. “Are you charging my client?”
“No.”
“Then you need to go.”
I bit my bottom lip to keep from talking. The two policemen put on their hats and stepped out of my apartment.
“I’ll see them out,” Matt said. “You sit and don’t move.”
I sat down.
This was bad. Very bad. Had I touched the poison while I was in the shed looking for something to open the box? Did they have my fingerprints? They probably had them all over the shed . . .
Matt came back in and closed the door to my apartment. He took off his coat and poured himself a cup of coffee. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt that outlined his well-muscled chest. I’d never seen him so casual. I kind of liked it.
“I have some whiskey if you want something stronger in your coffee,” I suggested.
“This isn’t funny,” he said. Then he took the seat across from me. “Why were you in the shed?”
“Everett is missing.”
“Your cat.”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s not like him to be gone so long. I spent a couple hours yesterday looking for him. I put signs up all over. When I was at the coffee shop, Barry Ziegler came out and told me that a friend of his had seen Everett around the Perrys’ shed.”
“So you went to the shed without a second thought.”
“You make that sound bad. I was looking for my cat.”
“And w
as there a cat?”
“There were two actually, but I don’t know if the one in the box was Everett or not.”
“The cat in the box?”
I told him the entire story. He sat back and studied his coffee cup. Then, he looked at me with sincere brown eyes. “You were set up. They locked you in so that the cops had to come and let you out. People saw you leave the shed. Now that they found poison, everyone will assume you went to the shed to hide the poison.”
“But I didn’t. I can’t even tell you where the poison was. The inside of the shed was dark.”
“Okay, look, I hate to say this, but I think someone needs to be with you twenty-four-seven until we get through this. You need a witness who knows your exact location.”
“Well, that’s silly. I’m not going to be followed into the bathroom. Plus, I’m wearing my Fitbit. It watches where I go.”
He ran his hand over his face. “Fine, don’t listen to me. Give the person who is framing you another opportunity to make you look bad.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “I suppose I can ask Aunt Eloise to come and stay with me. The window in my bathroom is small and there isn’t any way to get out through it. So, whoever stays with me should be able to let me go alone.”
“I’m not sure your aunt is the best choice,” he said.
“Why not?”
“She’s biased and I wouldn’t put it past her to lie for you.”
“She would not!” I protested and then thought about it. “Fine. What about Josie?”
“Josie?”
“Josie Pickler, the new nine-one-one dispatcher. She’s friendly enough that I wouldn’t mind her staying with me, but she works for the cops.”
He picked up my phone. “Call her.”
“Now?”
“Yes, I can’t stay with you. I charge by the hour.”
“I thought you were pro bono.”
“Not if you keep making yourself look bad.”
“Fine.”
“Good.”
I made the call and Josie agreed to help out. Then I turned on the TV and we both pretended to watch it intently, to avoid further conversation.
Thirty minutes later, Josie showed up at the back door to the shop with an overnight bag. Her red hair was flying all over in the wind and her freshly washed face made her freckles stand out even more.