They left Judy to her tears – she needed the alone time, that much was clear – and made their way into the sunset. Tonight was movie night, at least. A break from all the questions.
“Any news on the password for the Big Brother cloud?” Heather asked.
“Nothing. I’m working on it.” Ryan didn’t seem enthused about the prospects.
Something had to break soon. Right?
Chapter 10
Heather flicked through the stack of DVDs one case at a time. “What’s on the menu tonight? What do we feel like?” She held up the Lord of The Rings Trilogy. “How about a marathon?”
“Isn’t that PG rated?”
“Lilly’s twelve now,” Heather said. “It says twelve plus on the cover.” She turned it over and scanned the bleary wide-eyed expression of Frodo on the back. “It’s a classic.”
“Beaches is –”
“Don’t you dare start with that.” Heather shuffled the next DVD case to the top of the pile. “Oh, what about the Witness? Crime drama. Little bit of nudity, though, ugh.”
“Mom?”
Heather jumped and the DVD cases flipped out of her hands and cartwheeled toward the carpet. “Goodness!”
“Sorry.” Lilly didn’t sound sorry, though, and her face remained totally impassive as if all the childish joy had been wiped clean.
Amy stroked Cupcake’s furry back – groomed to perfection – and frowned. “Everything okay, Lils?”
“Yeah. I need to talk to you guys,” Lilly said, still wooden. “It’s really important. Can we sit down for a second, mom? It’s more a talk with you but Amy’s like my second mom, so I guess it’s okay she’s here.”
“Second mom,” Amy said. “Oh, my Grinch heart just grew three sizes.” She blinked back actual tears.
“Amy, I think it’s serious time now.” Heather took Lilly’s hand and led her to the sofa. They sat down together and Ames joined them, slightly removed but there for support. Heather wasn’t entirely sure who the support would be for at this point.
Lilly inhaled. She reached into the pocket of her fluffy pink robe and crinkled something. A piece of paper. Was it a short story?
“You might have noticed I’ve been a little upset lately,” she said and licked her lips. “It’s nothing to do with you guys, okay? It’s something else. I wanted to keep this to myself but it’s – it’s scaring me, mom.”
“Lilly, what is it? You know you can tell me anything,” Heather said. “You can tell us anything.”
“My biological dad sent me a letter.”
“What?!” Amy and Heather exclaimed, in unison.
“Please don’t freak out,” Lilly whispered. “It was waiting for me at school. I don’t know how it got there but the secretary told me that some guy dropped it off and that I shouldn’t get mail delivered there. It’s not my home.”
“Which guy?” Heather asked. “Did she say what he looked like?”
“No.” Lilly removed an envelope from her pocket, dog-eared and tatty around the edges. Lilly’s name had been penned across the front in blocky letters. “You can read it. I want you to. I don’t know what to think anymore.”
Heather took the envelope, turned it over in her hands, brushing skin against rough paper. She lifted the flap and drew a single sheet of yellow paper from the throat. She opened that next.
Lilly,
I know you probably don’t want to hear from your old man. I understand you live with that woman and the cop husband now. Good for you, kid. Maybe they can work some sense into that thick skull of yours.
Heather raised her eyes from the letter, trembling with anger. “Lilly –”
“It’s okay. I know not to worry about what he thinks of me by now. I know that you guys love me and if nice people like you love me then I can’t be as bad as he says.”
Heather’s heart threatened to give out.
We never got on, kid, but I guess I made mistakes too. That’s why I’m in this joint. Listen to me, I sound like a jail bird. Isn’t that funny. Now, listen I’m not writing because I want to see you. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea and come down here. This isn’t a place for girls.
I’m your dad and you haven’t got a real mom. I don’t care who’s looking after you, now. Your blood comes from me. You’re a Jones. And that means I’ve got to warn you, kid. Bad things are coming to that woman you’re living with. It stings to think her name, you know? After what she did to our family.
I guess karma comes back to bite you. And somebody big is gonna come back and bite her. Be careful.
Signed,
Larry Jones A.K.A. Your dad.
Heather read it another three times then handed the letter to Amy. She took in long breaths, expanded her lungs until they could take no more, held the breath, then exhaled again. She had to calm herself.
The hardest part of this parenting gig was showing Lilly her best side all the time because inside she was aflame. She burned up with rage that this man, this lowlife murderer dared reach out to Lilly and try tar her with that brush. Jones.
She grabbed Lilly’s hand and squeezed. “You’re a Shepherd. Do you hear me? You’re a Shepherd.”
“Oh, mom, I know that. I didn’t take what he said seriously,” Lilly replied, though the tears brimming in the corners of her eyes told a different story. “I was just afraid because he said something bad would happen to you.”
“Nothing bad will happen to me, you, or anyone else. I promise.” She wouldn’t let it happen and she wouldn’t be scared into submission by Larry or whoever had sent this letter.
She hugged Lilly tight. “How about some hot chocolate? Popcorn?”
“I’ll make it,” Lilly said and slipped off the sofa. She paused in the doorway on her way out. “Thanks, mom. That made me feel a lot better. I should’ve told you sooner but I didn’t want to freak you out.”
“It’s okay, hon. Next time you’re scared come straight to me, okay? Promise?”
“I promise.” Lilly hurried off and Dave leaped off the couch and toddled after her, wagging his tail.
Heather bit the side of her tongue hard enough to taste copper.
“What are you going to do?” Amy asked and handed the letter back.
Heather manhandled it back into the envelope. “I’m going to go see Larry Jones and make him regret he ever wrote this letter to my daughter.”
“Heather –”
“I don’t care if it seems irrational. Something’s up and I’m going to find out what it is. Nobody threatens my family.” She hissed. “Nobody.”
Chapter 11
Larry Jones was in hold over in the county jail. He hadn’t been granted bail and he had a long wait until his trial came up. Ryan drove Heather out the next morning, grinding his teeth so hard she’d been sure he wouldn’t have any left by the time they got there.
“The nerve of that creep,” Ryan said. “He scared her. He doesn’t care about her, only his private agenda. Toxic.”
“He is toxic. That’s a given since he’s a murderer.” Heather had calmed down a lot, though it’d taken her hours to get to sleep and a heavy dose of Advil.
Ryan walked her all the way to the meeting area, a room filled with windows and two-way phones, but she stopped him there. “I’ve got to do this on my own,” she said.
“Are you kidding?”
“Honey, you saw the letter. It was directed at me, not you. If Larry sees you he’s going to keep those gums stuck together like an ant sticks in jam on a winter’s day,” Heather said.
A muscle in Ryan’s jaw twanged. “I don’t like the thought of you in there alone with him.”
“There’s a divider between us. It’s not like he can strangle me through the glass.”
“Don’t say stuff like that,” Ryan hissed.
Heather placed both palms on his chest and pressed, lightly. “I’ve had more time to process this than you have. Let me handle it. Trust me.”
“I do.” He relented, kissed her on top o
f her head. “I always have.”
“Good,” Heather said and patted down the side of her handbag. “Because I won’t have long.”
“I’ll be right here if you need me.”
“Stay out of sight of that window, though. Please?”
He nodded once, though he didn’t like it one bit, then backed up a step.
Heather’s kitten heels crick-cracked on the linoleum. A correctional officer led her to the booth in question, solemn in uniform from head to toe, but sucking his teeth loud enough to block out the murmurs of the other women and men sitting on the ‘free’ side of those windows.
Heather sat down and placed her handbag on the floor beside the uncomfortable stool. She waited a minute or two and Larry Jones appeared, a lot thinner than she’d seen him the last time. Thinner and meaner.
It was strange to see Lilly’s eyes peering out of his face. He picked up the receiver on his side. Heather did the same on hers.
“What do you want?” He asked.
Heather took the letter out of her pocket and slapped it against the window.
Larry Jones flinched, then touched a finger to his nose. “That’s not for you.”
“And it shouldn’t have been for my daughter either.”
“Your daughter.”
“That’s right,” Heather said. “Don’t think about writing another letter like this again, Larry. If you do I’ll come back down here.”
“Do you think I’m afraid of you, woman?”
Heather smiled at him. A calm smile, cold in the eyes. “Remind me how you wound up in prison, Larry. You sure didn’t put yourself there.”
“I haven’t had my day in court yet.”
“I’m not here to talk about you.” Heather let the envelope fall and Larry watched its descent. “I want to know why you told my daughter that I’m going to be bitten.”
Larry squeaked back in his seat. “Because you are. I’ve got friends in here, Shepherd. They hear and see everything. What’s on the outside, what’s on the inside, everything. You’d better watch your back because there are bigger dogs than me on the outside and they’re gonna be chewing on it.”
“Give me names,” Heather said.
“I’m not giving you anything.” Larry scraped out of his seat. He made to hang up the phone.
“He can’t protect you, Larry.”
The murderer froze and his knuckles whitened on the receiver. “What?”
“Clarke. He can’t protect you. You feel like a big man, now? Doing his bidding? He doesn’t care about you just like he doesn’t care about any of the folks in this jail or in Hillside.”
“I –”
“Don’t bother denying it,” she said. “I know what he’s up to and I know to what lengths he’ll go to make my life uncomfortable.” It was Heather’s turn to scrape her stool back. “So you hear me loud and clear now, Larry Jones because I’ve got a message for your boss.”
The prisoner didn’t move away. He didn’t look at her either, but he listened and that was all she needed for this. “You tell Clarke that I’m coming for him. I know what he did last week and I’m coming for him. You tell him to back off because he’s not the big dog in this town. There’s only one big dog around here and it’s the law. You know that as well as I do.” Heather sucked in a breath. The next part came from deep within her, from the pit of her soul. “And you tell him if he ever threatens my family again he will live to regret it. Same goes for you.”
She slung the receiver back in its cradle, collected her bag, and left that foul letter and its writer behind.
Chapter 12
Heather spent the rest of the afternoon in Donut Delights cooling off with Vanilla Cream Donuts and milkshake. Ames stayed at the front counter with her, in case she needed to talk but Heather kept the conversation to herself.
Honestly, she couldn't do much to Larry or Lyle Clarke. She couldn't do anything but keep her door locked at night and focus on solving crimes. It frustrated her. She'd started investigating murders out of a need to do the right thing and help herself, and the others in Hillside, find clarity and peace after losing a loved one in such a vicious manner.
And now, it'd all come back to bite her. "Ugh, don't think that," Heather muttered.
"What's wrong?" Amy cranked the big lever on the side of the register.
"Nothing. Just going crazy."
"You're already there, remember?"
"Crazier." Heather crossed her arms. Outside cars trundled up and down the street in a slow, late afternoon crawl. It'd be time to close up soon. Eva and Leila had already headed home with Lils to enjoy a couple hours of uninterrupted play with Dave and kitty Cupcake.
A woman strode down the street opposite. She stopped outside the antique store and admired the wares through the dusty window pane.
"That's Judy," Heather said.
Amy's head snapped up. "Yep, that's her. Where are her dogs? Shouldn't they be swinging off her arm in a Prada?"
"Gucci."
"Oh, ex-cah-use me," Amy said.
Judy straightened and started off again but a man stepped out of the shadows of the alley next to the store and into her path. A man who'd almost turned Heather's office chair into a pile of firewood.
"It's salty Pete." Amy cranked the handle again and the register drawer clanked open.
"Ames?"
"Oh right, sorry." She banged it shut and shook her head. "What are they doing together, though?"
"Arguing by the looks of it."
Judy tossed her hair and gave Pete a look which would've melted steel pylons. Not Pete though, he was made of stronger stuff than that. He said something, he might've shouted, and a couple passersby gaped at them.
"This doesn't look good," Heather said and slipped off her stool. She rushed out of the store and onto the sidewalk, leaving Ames to tend to what little customers remained at this time of the day.
The argument swelled and lashes across the street.
"What do you think you're doing here?" Pete asked. "This isn't the place for you."
"The place for me? You don't get to decide where I go or what I do, Sampson."
He lowered his voice and said something inaudible. Heather drifted closer and used her Chevy to hide her. Why on earth did these two have to say to each other? Norma's ex and Norma's ex-best friend. No such thing as coincidences.
"You don't get to decide that!" Judy slapped him. The thwack split the dull rumble of car engines in the street.
"That's enough!" Roadkill Rodney had appeared in the doorway of the antique store, an end table nestled between his arms. "You're causin' a disturbance."
"You don't get to tell me what to do." That was from Pete.
The two men bore down on each other. Roadkill dropped his end table and it clattered to the sidewalk. Shoot, now things were tricky. An argument was one thing but this looked about ready to go all out brawl.
Heather stuck her hands in the front pocket of her Donut Delights apron and felt for her cell. She looked left and right, then hurried across the street and intercepted the two big guys and Judy. Only Judy noticed her and she shrank back a few steps, heels scraping on the concrete.
"You're lookin' for me and you're gonna find me," Pete said.
"I already found you. You wanna do something about that?"
"That's enough," Heather said. It was as if a bullwhip had cracked at their backs. Both men jumped and backed away from each other, eyeing her like she'd started this mess. "You're grown men. I suggest you both head on home and forget about all of this before you do something you'll regret."
Pete scuffed his boots. Roadkill Rodney became infinitely interested in the dirt under his fingernails. And Judy? She did a slow creep away from the altercation.
"Are you okay, Miss Walker?" Heather asked.
Judy halted. She put up a simpering smile. “I’m just fine, thank you. Just fine. How about you, Mrs. Shepherd? Everything all right in your store?"
"Oh yeah," Heather said. "Amy's just
about to lock up for the afternoon. Do you need anything? A donut perhaps?"
"No, thank you."
The polite conversation strung them together but it was all strained and false. Heather couldn't hide her intrigue - why Pete Sampson? And Judy clearly wished she was somewhere else.
"I was just out for some late afternoon shopping," Judy said. She didn't have any bags, not even her own fancy purse. The story didn't fit. "But I think I'm done, now. I'll just head home. Dinner won't cook itself. The curse of living alone." She skedaddled before Heather could ask her anything else.
The two men had already made themselves scarce. Heather vacillated between following Judy and returning to the store.
"We should go after her," Amy said. She held out Heather's handbag. "Here. I already closed up for the afternoon."
"My apron."
"Wear it home. Or take it off and stick it in your handbag. I don't like the way she acted. She looked like she was hiding something."
Judy had already reached the corner. She looked back over her shoulder at them, flinched, then hurried down the street adjacent.
"What do you say?" Amy asked.
"I say I feel like an afternoon stroll."
Chapter 13
Judy had kept fit, Heather would give her that. The womans pace had Heather panting by the next corner and Amy the one after that. They'd cross into another street only to find Walker halfway down it, wobbling along with her head held high.
Walker, ha, excuse the pun.
"I can't keep this up much longer," Amy said.
"What are you complaining about? You're in better shape than I am." Heather had already stripped off her apron and shoved it into the depths of her tote. She hadn't stowed her phone, though, just in case.
Judy made it to the next corner and took that one at a brisk walk. She'd slowed a little upon entering suburbia and they'd been sure she'd stop soon. Enter a house or lead them to another clue.
But Judy hadn't done any of that. Instead, she wound down streets and between houses, taking shortcuts she'd obviously used many times in the past. The houses on each block changed from the opulent homes of the Hillside socialites with their high fences and hedges, their ostentations out for the world to see, to the low-slung homes of the everyman. Working class heroes.
Vanilla Cream Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy - Book 44 (Donut Hole Cozy Mystery) Page 4
