Peach Clobbered

by Anna Gerard

  Of course, until about five minutes ago, Jack had been the one I hadn’t trusted.

  On the bright side, the sisters would be back in a couple of hours, I reminded myself in relief. Something told me he’d keep any “crazy” in check around them. But more importantly, I wouldn’t have to spend the night alone with him.

  * * *

  The nuns returned to the house a little after five, looking bedraggled but surprisingly cheerful after a day of prepping the convent for the Rosary service and reception.

  “How did the cleanup go?” I asked Sister Mary George as they trooped inside.

  “Surprisingly well,” she replied. “It was a little more work getting things cleaned up to Reverend Mother’s standards than we anticipated, but we managed. And it was good seeing the convent again, even for a few hours.”

  “And the leftover breakfast food was greatly appreciated,” Reverend Mother chimed in, handing over the empty containers. “Though I am a bit embarrassed to admit that I’m more than ready to order in supper. Manual labor gives one an appetite. The sisters took a vote on the way back here, and we settled on Mexican cuisine tonight. Would you like us to call in an order for you, too?”

  I glanced down at Mattie, who was dancing about her nun friends and accepting pats and ear scratches. “What do you think, girl? Mexican food tonight?”

  When Mattie gave a woof of approval (she was always up for tacos), I smiled and nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll take a chili relleno meal for me, and a single beef taco for my fuzzy friend here.”

  “Oh, and we should ask Mr. Westcott if he wants anything,” Sister Mary Christopher decreed.

  Since she was the one writing down orders, I merely nodded and indicated the plasticware I held. “I think I’ll do a little washing up while we’re waiting on supper.”

  Within an hour, the food arrived. As we began sorting through the orders, Reverend Mother said, “I almost forgot to tell you, Nina, but we will be staying overnight at the convent tomorrow after the Rosary and reception. Even though there will be a catering service, we’ll still have some final cleanup to do.”

  “Sure,” I replied, a bit puzzled, “but where will you sleep?”

  “The diocese has not yet managed to arrange pickup for all the furnishings and boxes. We’ll pull out a few linens and have a cozy place to sleep. Mayor Green has agreed to bring us back here on Saturday morning.”

  Holding up a foam takeout container, she added, “Sister Mary Julian, I believe you had the extra-cheesy quesadillas?”

  The meal was cheerful but more than a little subdued. By eight o’clock the women had concluded their evening prayers and were headed upstairs. Harry had long since retired to the tower room. In fact, he’d been uncharacteristically quiet during the meal, attention focused on the grilled chicken dish he’d ordered.

  I was glad he’d kept his distance. Even after doing my usual evening lockdown and retiring to my own room, I couldn’t help feeling unsettled. I tried telling myself that Jack was probably just being melodramatic, but those reassurances didn’t much help.

  Finally, I gave up and went to bed a little before ten—early for me. Despite having Mattie curled up beside me, I slept fitfully, dreaming about buses and skulls and women with knives tucked in their garter belts. And so it was almost with a sense of relief that I jerked awake a little after midnight. Until I realized that what had awakened me was Mattie … and that she was standing on the foot of my bed, with ears at high alert and growling in the direction of the French doors.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Shhh,” I softly warned the pup as I slid out from under the covers. “We don’t want to wake up the sisters.”

  At least, not until I knew what, if anything, was going on. It was probably nothing, but for the moment I preferred to keep things in stealth mode. Still, something obviously had set Mattie’s Aussie senses tingling, which triggered my Nina senses, too.

  I reached for my trusty golf club–slash–kneecapper. Times like these were when I missed having a significant other to put in charge of checking out late-night noises while I cowered under the covers. Not that I could remember Cam ever hauling his butt out of a warm bed to check for prowlers. But at least I’d had him as a potential human shield I could use if things ever went sideways.

  On the other hand, right now I had Mattie, whose loyalty to me was unquestioned, unlike that of my only other option when it came to potential human shields. And until I knew more, I wasn’t going to put it past Harry that he might actually be the target of Mattie’s growls.

  I patted my leg in a wordless here, girl command. Mattie obediently followed as I sidled over to the French doors. I was already dressed for late-night counterprowling in a pair of dark-gray gym shorts and matching T-shirt that I had on as sleepwear. So not only were all vital lady parts modestly covered, but I could also blend in with the shadows.

  Not that I was planning on rushing outside onto the porch for a look around. But maybe I’d take a peek past the curtains.

  Holding my breath, I eased the curtain’s edge over just enough so I could squint out into the darkness. The problem was, my view from that angle was limited. I could see only a portion of the porch, and a sliver of Mattie’s side yard. Hoping my silhouette couldn’t be seen from outside, I took a few quick steps to the other side of the door frame, and then lifted the curtain again.

  Now my view encompassed part of the front property. Whatever light from the street that might have made its way over the fence and into the yard had been absorbed by the magnolia’s sprawling canopy. Same problem with the moonlight, compounded by the fact that there was but a quarter of the moon showing. I gave an involuntary shiver as I clutched my putter more tightly.

  And then a large dark shadow slid along the porch edge and disappeared near my front door.

  I bit back a gasp and let the curtain drop. No bird or cat had cast that shadow. Definitely human shaped.

  Mattie pawed at the curtain, and I could hear a growl building in her throat. Any moment, she would be letting loose with a sharp bark or ten that should serve to scare off any sensible intruder. But what if the prowler came back another evening? Time to nip this in the bud.

  Swiftly, I padded over to the desk and picked up my phone. Time, too, to find out for sure if this was Harry outside … or someone else. I pulled up CRAZY MAN under contacts and pressed his number. If he were out there skulking, chances were he wouldn’t have his cell phone on him. And so if he answered, that would likely put him in the clear. At least for this round.

  Just as I feared that my call would go to voice mail, I heard a groggy voice answer. “This better be important.”

  “It is,” I hissed, still mindful of the sleeping nuns, though I was pretty sure no one beyond the room could hear me. “I saw a shadow move past my French doors. I think there’s someone prowling around outside.”

  I heard a muttered curse in a voice that sounded slightly more awake now. Then he replied, “So call the sheriff’s department … or let the dog out. I’m not going out there with Lana still on the loose. For all I know, she saw the bus and she’s looking for a way to get into the house and stab me.”

  I refrained from making chicken-clucking noises. “I’m not asking you to play hero. You’ve got that three-sixty view up there. All I want is for you to take a look out the window and tell me if you see someone. Remember, we’ve got a houseful of helpless old nuns here. I don’t want them put at risk.”

  Not that I was too worried about their waking up and confronting an intruder after an exhausting day. When I’d gone to my room earlier, the sound of collective snoring had been quite audible drifting down the main stairway.

  “All right, all right.”

  I could hear breathing and a couple of thuds. Then it was silent for a moment, until he said in a low voice, “Looks pretty quiet.”

  “You sure there’s no one near the front door? That’s where I saw a shadow a minute ago.”

  “Yeah,” he agree
d, “but remember, there’s a lot of roofline around the tower. Plus that big magnolia up front is blocking half the view. If someone was right up against the porch, I wouldn’t be able to see them. Why don’t you turn on a few outside lights? If someone’s out there, that’ll run them off.”

  “Okay. Stay on the phone while I do it, and tell me if you see anything.”

  Cell in one hand, I used the putter grip to flip the switch beside the French doors. Light spilled in a satisfying wave onto the porch and across Mattie’s area.

  “Nothing yet,” I heard Harry say.

  Moving swiftly, I made it to the front door and turned on that light. Then I cut back down the hallway to the rear door and lit up the brick patio in the back.

  “Nothing. Wait … no, that was an owl. Nope, nothing,” Harry said in turn, as I illuminated each zone.

  Last was the light outside the kitchen, which I knew threw a wide enough beam to light much of the drive and the front of the garage.

  “No, nothing—wait!” he said. And then I heard, “Son of a—! My bus is on fire!”

  “Fire?” I echoed in confusion, forgetting for a moment to keep my voice down.

  Then, snapping into reactive mode, I went on, “There’s a fire extinguisher in the pantry. I’m going to grab that. I’ll meet you outside. Try not to wake the sisters!”

  Not waiting on a reply, I hung up the call and shoved my phone into the waistband of my shorts. Then, leaving the golf club propped against the counter, I rushed to the pantry.

  A squat red cylinder with a black hose and nozzle sat on the floor beside a box of plastic garbage bags. The big ABC printed on its label indicated this particular fire extinguisher was good for anything burning … which, I prayed, included buses.

  I grabbed the cylinder and hurried toward the kitchen’s outside door. There I almost collided with Harry, who’d made it down both the tower room ladder and back stairway in a matter of seconds. I had just enough time to note that he was dressed much like me, in a white T-shirt and gray sweat pants, before he snatched the extinguisher from my hands.

  “Don’t let Mattie get out,” I hissed at him as he started through the door and down the wooden steps. “If there’s a fire, she might get hurt.”

  Blocking the anxious pup from following us, I slipped out the door after him. With the way he’d reparked the bus that afternoon, the passenger side was now facing the house. Harry was already shoving open the bifold entry door when I joined him.

  “Is it bad? Should I call 911?” I croaked, panic swiftly constricting my throat.

  “Not yet.” He raised the extinguisher and freed the hose and nozzle. “Let me see if I can douse it myself first. If that doesn’t work, then—”

  He halted and abruptly lowered the red cannister.

  Confused, I ducked around him for a closer look, and then frowned.

  For what Harry had spied from the tower room wasn’t an actual fire. Instead, it was the flickering flames from six pillar-style candles in cheap pink glass cylinders. They were arranged in a circle on the floorboard between the driver’s seat and the steps leading in. Their lit wicks reflected in the glass holders and in the bus’s windows, giving the impression of a full-blown conflagration. Within that small circle lay a picture held down by a heart-shaped pink crystal.

  I gasped and took a step back. Rusty-colored drops of what looked suspiciously like blood were splattered on Harry’s printed image.

  Harry must have noticed that, too, for he grew suddenly still.

  “Now that’s some seriously creepy stuff,” he muttered, except that he used another word for stuff. Setting down the fire extinguisher, he pulled out his cell phone and took a couple of pictures.

  “Do you think Lana did this?” I wanted to know.

  I hadn’t yet shaken the suspicions about Harry that my call with Jack that afternoon had triggered. While he appeared legitimately disturbed by this little vignette, it occurred to me that maybe the actor had set up this scene himself, hoping to convince me that he was indeed being pursued by a stalker.

  He slanted a look at me.

  “Unless there’s some voodoo queen running around Cymbeline, I’d say yes. Maybe if I show this to Connie, she’ll start taking my stalking claim more seriously.”

  I leaned in for a better look. The candles appeared recently lit, since only a small amount of melted wax had pooled within the glass holders. That fact did seem to prove Harry’s innocence in the stunt. In the time it would have taken him to set the scene, go back inside, and have a whole conversation with me, the candles would have been burned down more than they were.

  “You want me to blow out the candles?” I asked when he made no other move toward the disturbing little display. “I know you want the sheriff to see this whole setup, but I’m sure you don’t want to leave anything burning overnight.”

  “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll email the photos to Connie. Maybe she can send someone over tomorrow to check for fingerprints and—”

  “What in the world is going on here?”

  The unexpected voice behind us made us both jump. We whipped about in unison to see an elderly woman with short-cropped gray hair wrapped chin to ankles in a pale-pink bathrobe standing on the kitchen door steps. If not for the oversized glasses that glinted beneath the exterior lights, I wouldn’t have recognized Mother Superior.

  Tugging her robe more tightly about her spare frame, she marched down the steps and took her own look at the bus. She gasped at the sight of the candles and made a swift sign of the cross. Then, turning back to us, she asked in a stern voice, “I trust, Mr. Westcott, that you are not responsible for this pagan display?”

  “Are you freaking kidding me?”

  This in an indignant tone; then, apparently remembering he was addressing a nun, he added, “I mean, certainly not, Reverend Mother. There’s a very disturbed woman following me around, and I’m pretty sure she set up this whole crazy thing.”

  “That may be, but we still should dispose of this heresy at once,” she proclaimed, and started forward.

  “Wait, Reverend Mother.” I held out a restraining hand. “I was going to blow out the candles for safety’s sake, but we really should leave the display so that the sheriff can send a deputy out in the morning to take a look. Once someone comes out, I promise we’ll throw everything in the trash.”

  The nun didn’t look totally convinced; however, she nodded. “I concede your point, Nina. But let us make sure the other sisters don’t accidentally see this. I know it would distress them.”

  “Of course.”

  I blew out the flames, and Harry closed the bus door on the scene. That done, the three of us walked back into the kitchen.

  “Reverend Mother, I’m so sorry we disturbed you with this,” I told her as we started for the foyer. “We tried to be as quiet as possible.”

  “Oh, it’s not your fault. I couldn’t sleep … not after the call from the diocese that I received this afternoon.”

  She halted and glanced my way, her glasses reflecting my shadowy image back at me.

  “The official order has come from the archbishop. At breakfast I’ll let the sisters know the bus will arrive here at noon on Saturday. We will pray the Rosary service for Mr. Bainbridge Friday night at the convent, as we’ve already scheduled. I’ll ask Mayor Green to have us back here Saturday morning early enough for us to finish packing and be on our way at the appointed time.”

  Left unsaid was, and then on to our individual final destinations.

  “I’m so sorry,” I told her. “Would you like a cup of tea to help you sleep? Harry has this blend called rooibos that’s supposed to be good for that.”

  The nun shook her gray head. “Thank you, my dear, but I’ll content myself with prayer. Good night.”

  I waited until she’d mounted the stairs before turning to Harry.

  “Well, this has not been the best night ever. I don’t know about you, but Mattie and I are going to try to get some sleep. I’ve got to be u
p in”—I paused and glanced at my phone’s clock—“about five hours so I’m ready when Jasmine brings breakfast.”

  “Such is the life of an innkeeper.”

  He gave me an innocent look and added, “Fortunately, I’ll be sleeping in. Connie told me she’s usually at her desk by eight, so no point in trying her office until then to make my report. But be a dear and save me a bit of breakfast, would you?”

  With that, he strolled in the same direction as Mother Superior and disappeared up the stairs.

  I muttered a few uncomplimentary things about the man’s birth and then looked for Mattie. She was sitting beside the kitchen counter at the spot where her treat jar sat. Smiling despite myself, I walked over to where she waited.

  “You were a big help tonight, girl. Here, you deserve a little reward.”

  I waited while she made quick work of the little crunchy bone-shaped treat and then led her from the kitchen. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, starting with breakfast and ending with the Rosary.

  And since I was about to lose my current crop of guests, it was time to start soliciting new ones. First thing in the morning, I’d stop by Becca Gleason’s printing shop and see about getting the promo materials I’d designed printed up.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Breakfast was a somber affair—at least for me. Not only was I feeling the aftereffects of my late-night wandering, but I was sadly anticipating the nuns’ departure. Though they’d only been with me a few days, I’d grown more fond of them than I would have guessed. And I knew that once they learned that they’d all be sent in different directions upon arrival in Atlanta, it would break their hearts.

  It definitely was breaking mine.

  With all this on my mind, I was almost relieved when, once everyone had pretty well stuffed themselves, Mother Superior glanced my way and gave me a nod.

  Taking the hint, I abruptly stood. Tone as cheerful as I could manage, I said, “I’ll let you sisters finish your coffee while I start clearing and putting up the leftovers.”