With an overly dramatic sigh Taylor unlocked the door and opened it. “Nancy?”
“Oh, thank goodness, can I come in?”
Taylor pulled the door open further.
She’d spoken with both Gina and Nancy now, and if she had to pick, she’d say Gina was the crazy one, not this perfectly reasonable seeming older woman hanging her coat on the coat rack.
“I’m so sorry that Gina bothered you this afternoon.”
“It was no bother.”
Taylor stood next to the door, leaving it open, arms crossed while Nancy made herself comfortable on the couch.
“It’s late. What do you need?”
Nancy froze, maybe Taylor’s forthright statement had been unexpected, or even rude, but she didn’t care.
“There’s something you need to know about Gina.”
Taylor closed her eyes and counted to three. “She’s crazy. Yes. I noticed.”
“She means well.”
“Nancy, it’s too late for this. Call me tomorrow if you need to talk.” Taylor pulled the door open as far as it could go.
“But you can’t trust anything she says.” Nancy picked at the fabric of her slacks, a tweed that was wearing thin at the knees.
“I’ll keep that in mind. You should head home now. It’s late.” Taylor wracked her brain trying to think of another way to say “get out” that wasn’t actually “get out”.
“I don’t mean to disturb your family.” Nancy glanced at Grandpa Ernie’s door which was open.
Taylor wondered if Nancy could tell the room was empty. “Everyone needs to get their sleep, school tomorrow.”
“But your sister is with her friend.” Nancy smiled. “And your grandfather is at the hospital.”
“You need to get out.” Taylor wrapped her hand around the doorknob, anger and fear fighting with each other.
How had she known where Taylor lived?
How had she known Taylor was alone?
How did she know where everybody was?
Taylor’s phone was by the sink in the bathroom upstairs, and she deeply wished it wasn’t.
Nancy stood and laced her fingers together in front of her. “Listen, Taylor Rae Quinn, we’re all alone. We have privacy. I just need you to tell me what Gina said to you. That’s all. After that I’ll leave.”
“She told me she was very sorry my mom was dead. She said she liked Mom and missed her.” Taylor scanned the room for any potential tools of self-defense. In her bathrobe and slipper clad state she felt particularly vulnerable. She slipped out of the slippers as subtly as possible. Her bare feet had better traction than those fuzzy comfortable things did.
“Nothing else?”
Nancy’s coat was hanging on the coat rack inches away, so Taylor grabbed it for her and held it out.
A mood shift flashed across Nancy’s features, fear maybe.
“What else could she say?”
Nancy faced off with Taylor, close enough to take the coat, but not doing it.
The coat was heavy. Something weighty was in the pocket.
“I think you know what she said.”
Panic gripped Taylor’s throat. She wanted to swing the coat at Nancy, hoping whatever the heavy thing in the pocket was would knock her out, but somehow she knew that was an overreaction. Nancy hadn’t done anything. She just wanted to talk.
Taylor gripped the coat in her fist and walked backwards out her front door. Her foot hung over the step of the front stoop. She didn’t want to fall, but she didn’t like turning her back on Nancy either.
Nancy’s car was blocking Taylor’s, but that didn’t matter. Taylor didn’t even have a bra on, much less her car keys.
She shifted the coat and felt the outside of the pocket. If the heavy thing in there was a gun, Taylor didn’t want her fingerprints on it.
It didn’t feel like a gun. She relaxed a little and gave it one more feel.
It was just a flashlight.
She walked to Nancy’s car and set the coat on the hood. “This has been a stressful day for all of us. Go back to Andrea’s, have a good sleep, and then call me. We can talk tomorrow, I promise.”
Nancy had followed Taylor out and was coming down the stairs.
Taylor breathed.
Nancy was nuts.
Gina was nuts.
That can run in families. Didn’t mean either of them were dangerous.
Nancy walked slowly to the car. The look on her face disagreed with Taylor’s assessment. Her eyes were cold and her face was shockingly still. “I just need to know what she said. I really need to know.”
Taylor was halfway across her lawn, not sure where to head next. None of the neighbors’ lights were on, but someone had to be home.
“Don’t run off,” Nancy said. “Just give me a second to ask you something.” She picked up her coat and folded it over her arms. “Can’t we go back inside for a moment? I have a long drive and I’d like to use the bathroom.”
Taylor kept her pace steady slowly inching into the neighbor’s yard. “The Arco has a bathroom.”
Nancy laughed. “Now you’re being ridiculous. We’re old friends, aren’t we? I remember when you were born and when your daddy died.”
“Go home, Nancy.”
Nancy reached her hand into her pocket and pulled out the flashlight. “No, Taylor. We’re going to go back inside now.”
Nancy pointed the flashlight at Taylor, but no light shown from it.
Taylor was sure now that Gina was correct. Nancy was unbalanced.
But Taylor wasn’t scared of a flashlight, no matter what Nancy thought it was.
“I’m going over here, to the Morgan house, and I’m going to use their phone to call the police. You’re trespassing and harassing me right now. Go home.”
A shot cracked the night air, louder than it had any right to sound. Taylor’s heart leapt into her open mouth, choking her. She ducked to the ground, hands over her head.
“That was the warning shot,” Nancy said. “Get inside now. If you’d just told me what Gina said….”
Taylor peeked through her arms, hoping to see lights going on up and down the street, but there was nothing. She was still alone.
Nancy strode towards her. “I’m not a great shot, but even I can hit a person in the head from this distance. Now come inside.”
Taylor tried to think creatively, but had nothing, so she stood slowly, hands in front of her, and walked one barefooted step after another across the damp grass and back into the house.
She walked across the bare wood floors that needed sweeping and went straight into the kitchen without rushing. The landline phone sat on the counter behind a stack of decorative chicken wire baskets. She stopped at the stack.
“If you think you can grab a kitchen knife and stab me before I can get a shot out of this fun little thing, you’re delusional.”
“What are you doing?” Taylor didn’t dare grab for the phone. Sudden movements seemed like a terrible idea.
“If you tell the police I was here tonight shooting you with a flashlight, they won’t believe you. Andrea and I had dinner in her cozy little room at the B and B and then I went upstairs to bed early at, nine-thirty.”
“I don’t want to tell anyone anything.” Taylor tugged her bathrobe belt just to have something to do with her hands. It cinched around her waist and she wondered if it would be strong enough to tie Nancy up. “I don’t want to tell anyone that Gina and Mom had been fighting about a blanket pattern.”
Nancy nodded. “That’s more like it.”
“But sincerely, that’s all she told me. They had been fighting, but then they made up.”
“I don’t believe you.” Nancy pulled out a kitchen chair and sat with a heavy sigh. The flashlight-gun went every which direction as she sat, but it pointed back at Taylor before she could grab the phone. “She told you other things. Gina called me. She told me she was coming here to make sure I hadn’t done anything crazy.”
“I told her you
hadn’t. You’ve been perfectly nice.”
“That’s because I am perfectly nice.” Except for those cold hard eyes, she was even perfectly “nice” right now. Calm, smooth. Collected. Not at all like her nervous, manic daughter.
Taylor leaned on the counter, feeling proximity to that old cordless phone resting just out of reach.
“What did she tell you?”
“She told me that you were a lot of work, to be honest. And she had worried you’d come down here and tell me things that made her look like she had killed Mom.” This wasn’t a word for word report, but it was close enough. “And she told me about the quilt pattern and the fight, and she told me about how sad she was that her friend was dead. That is all she told me.” Taylor wracked her brain trying to think of anything else. “Oh! And she told me about Colleen and your son. That was the last thing she told me.”
Nancy shook her head, her face creasing in a frown. “Are you sure? That’s everything?”
“Yes, I swear it is.”
“Now, how hard was that?” Nancy stood, pointing the flashlight-gun at the floor. “I shouldn’t have had to use this.”
Another shot rang out in the night, from far away. Maybe a local person shooting a pest animal on their property. Maybe someone just messing around. Either way, it explained why no one seemed to care about the shot that had been fired in her front yard. And it reminded her again that she really was all alone.
Rather than attempt to disarm Nancy, Taylor needed to get her in the car and on the road.
“I’m sorry.” Taylor held out a hand for her to shake. “Can you forgive me?”
Nancy seemed to consider this. “It’s easier to forgive you than it was to forgive your mother for bringing that horrible woman around my daughter, after what she had done to my son.” She held the gun up again. Crap.
“It must have been just awful to see Colleen again.”
“It was rude. Insult to injury. Your mother was a terrible person.”
Taylor opened her mouth to tell Nancy to go to hell, but she remembered the flashlight was a deadly one and shut it again.
“Not only did she want to rub my face in the fancy life that horrible Colleen had managed to create for herself after she destroyed my Brick, your mother was also trying to destroy my baby. My only daughter.”
“But how?” Taylor whispered. She stood there, one hand out to a woman facing her with a gun, and her only hope of help stuck behind that stupid stack of wire baskets on the counter. She wanted to drag some kind of confession out of Nancy, but with no witnesses, what good would it do?
Panic fought with hysteria, or where they the same?
Her head spun and her breath was ragged.
Business school had not prepared her for this.
“My Brick made this for me.” Nancy stroked the side of the gun. “What’s nice about it is, it’s not registered and totally untraceable.” She looked down at the weapon kindly, lost for a moment in memory of the criminal she had born and loved. “Not that you always need a gun to get the job done.” She admitted the gun, gazing at it lovingly.
Taylor lunged, knocking her to the ground. The gun went off again, but Nancy’s hand had fallen to the side and the bullet hit the kitchen door.
Taylor held her on the ground, a knee to Nancy’s neck. She twisted Nancy’s wrist till it went limp. Then she grabbed the weapon and stared at Nancy’s face.
Nancy showed no sign of fear.
Panting, Taylor crawled backward, sitting on her feet, gun behind her back. “I’m all alone.” She panted for enough breath to speak. “No one is coming to rescue me. But then again, no one is coming for you either.” She stood slowly, one hand tight on the gun, scared she’d lose control of herself and drop it.
She knocked the stack of metal wire baskets to the floor with a clatter and picked up the phone with her other hand. She pointed the gun at the fridge as she dialed 911. She didn’t know how to shoot it, so it didn’t matter what it was aimed at.
“Police, fire, or ambulance?” The voice answered
“Police,” Taylor said. “I’ve disarmed an intruder in my home.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Taylor called Roxy first thing in the morning and let her know that due to a pile of life crisis she hadn’t expected, she would not be in.
“Taylor…. oh, you poor thing. I’ve got the shop for you. Let’s talk as soon as you can breathe, okay?”
“Sure.” Taylor didn’t have a single idea of when she’d be able to breathe again.
All of her goals before last night seemed so small and useless. Film more YouTube videos? Please. She needed to convince the sheriff that an old lady had killed her mom, and she had no evidence.
Keep Belle from suing for emancipation? Emancipation wasn’t death, and Taylor needed to figure out how to keep her grandfather alive.
Keep the shop running so her one employee would not have to find a new job? You know what, that still mattered, but it didn’t matter so much at this moment. Taylor didn’t mean to be heartless, but it was a big country. There had to be a job somewhere if she failed and Flour Sax closed up.
Taylor called Belle next but didn’t get an answer, so she texted. Just good luck with the advisor. What else was there to say? Sissy was better at mothering than Taylor was, anyway.
She ate some bread and peanut butter, not bothering to toast it, then drove to the hospital. Guilt burbled inside her because she hoped that they’d want to keep him all day so she wouldn’t have to worry about him while she was with the sheriff.
Grandpa Ernie was asleep when she got there, and the doctor wasn’t available either. She sat in his room, listening to his snores while reading the news on her phone. Hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait. There was a reason people said that with a groan of despair.
Eventually a very nice doctor about her age showed up. The doctor read the chart then offered Taylor a handshake. “You’re the granddaughter?”
“Yes.” Taylor stood and stretched a little. “How’s he doing?”
The doctor smiled at Grandpa Ernie. “He had a rough night, I’ll be honest. He only fell asleep around five this morning. Do you know if he usually sleeps well?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t.”
“No matter. I’d like to keep him another night. He’s sleeping great now, but if he tends to sleep all day and not in the night we should know.”
Taylor pictured him snoozing most of the day away in his recliner. “I think he might.”
“I’d like to order oxygen for him for home. It’s clear that he needs it. It can help quite a few of the symptoms associated with aging. For example, how is his memory?”
“It’s not great.”
“I’d like to see how that changes with oxygen. For today, let’s let him sleep. We can monitor him overnight again, and then talk tomorrow. Will that work for you?”
“Definitely.” Taylor agreed and tried not to think of Roxy alone at the store for another day.
The doctor glanced at the chart one more time. “See you tomorrow, okay? We can make a plan then.”
Taylor thanked her. She didn’t know if the doctor was an internist or a gerontologist or what. She didn’t even remember her name. But that could wait for tomorrow. For today at least, Grandpa Ernie was safe and sleeping, and that was all she needed.
Her phone told her the sheriff’s office was here in McMinnville just across the South Yamhill River from the hospital, so she headed there.
Last night Taylor had told the police far more than was useful. Her statement had begun with the death of her mother and ended with the fight in the kitchen. It had run the gamut from adoption to racoon infestation. She was supposed to come in today to sign a formal statement. She didn’t know what she could say that hadn’t been said already, except that she was definitely pressing charges.
Once at the station she waited for her turn with the lady at the front desk. The deputy that had taken her late night rambling tell-all invited her to a private
room to write a statement of exactly what happened last night, and last night alone. It took a while—it was harder to remember all of the specific details than she had anticipated. She passed it to him.
He glanced at it, then leaned back in his chair. “You were telling me last night that you had questions about the death of your mother.”
Taylor sucked a breath in. Questions about her death didn’t begin to describe what she was thinking. “It seems to be highly unlikely that a healthy woman would fall like she did.”
“The record of her death indicates there was an autopsy and no sign of foul play was indicated.”
“Maybe she had been drugged. Did you take samples for a lab?” Taylor asked.
“It seemed a cut and dried accident, to us and to the coroner. But we aren’t perfect, and we know it.”
“Something happened to make my mom fall. Something worse than a margarita and the heel of her shoe getting stuck. If not poison, then she was pushed. And if she was pushed, I think it was Nancy Reese.” Before he could interrupt, Taylor continued. “Nancy was desperate to know what her daughter told me. Why did she need a gun if it wasn’t a lethal case?”
“The good news, if there is any in all of this, is that we have Nancy here now, and we know your concerns. That may be cold comfort, but it’s a big step considering we didn’t know we had a case till last night.” He stood up.
Taylor did as well. They shook hands and she headed out. But where to? Home to sit alone and worry? The hospital to sit with Grandpa and worry? The shop to sell fabric and worry?
She considered going to Maddie, like she had asked, but that didn’t sound like it was right either. Taylor needed real support right now. Someone she could count on.
* * *
Grandma Quinny was on her back porch giving directions to Grandpa Quinny as he worked the soil in the family strawberry patch.
“It’s all fallen apart now.” Taylor sat next to her grandmother on a wrought iron chair.
“It was bound to, darling. It’s not your fault.” Grandma Quinny patted her hand softly. “You’ve done the right thing in coming home, and the right thing in coming here today.”
Assault and Batting Page 25
