by June Shaw
“She tells people that and other ridiculous things she creates that get stuck in her mind. That made-up story gets her a lot of attention and shocked faces. All the woman does is dig in her flowers, wearing a hat so large it doesn’t let her see any of the world around her.”
Soft voices with a woman’s crying assured me I needed to go. I wouldn’t disrespect these mourners’ loss with my questions. I nodded to the people with sad eyes on my way out.
If Miss Hawthorne made up the tale of this man always going commando, even under his suits, had she also created a story about a running man wearing black shoes and black cuffed pants? Or had she developed this picture in her mind to entertain herself while she piddled in her yard? Maybe she heard some noise outside and decided it could have been the sound of a man dashing down the street with dress shoes? Her mind could embellish the story even more. Was there any way I could find out?
My cell rang, the regular picture from that number looking like me. “Hi, Sis,” I said. “How are you? Is the face improving?”
“I don’t know, but I’m coming home.”
Muscles tightened in my neck. “You can’t do that. Not yet.”
“Yes, I’m coming back. They treat me like I can’t take care of myself. I can’t stand it.”
“No, Eve.” I gripped the phone tighter to my face. “There’s still a man on the loose out here who wants you dead.”
Her long exhale sounded. “I guess that is worse than being treated like a baby who can’t fend for herself.” Her voice had softened.
“It definitely is worse. Your face looks terrible.”
“Thanks. Nicole just started her pregnancy leave, so she’s around me all the time. She worries about every little new touch of purple or yellow that comes out. But I’m healing. I really am.”
“So you have some yellow near your eye, too, huh? Send me a picture.”
“No. You’d just do the same thing.” She coughed, the kind of cough that sounded forced. “Now changing the subject, how’re things there? Have you seen Dave?”
“He came to check on you and find out if your alarm was still working. I told him it was. And I thought I was finding out some important information, but it seems it’s not. Do you know much about Miss Hawthorne?”
“You sold her a girdle quite some time back that she still wears and a horrid green bra that wouldn’t match anything except algae. And her grandson works at the funeral home, doesn’t he?”
“Do you know anything else about either of them?”
“Uh-uh. Did Dave ask where I was?”
“He didn’t, and I didn’t offer that information.” What else could I tell her? I made myself cough. Like my sister, I knew how to flip a conversation. “Did you know that your busybody neighbor’s son likes crayfish omelets for breakfast?”
“I don’t blame him. I’ve had that for other meals during the day but never in the morning.”
“She boiled some and was peeling them for him.”
“Mm, I might come home before crayfish season ends and maybe she’ll fix some for me.”
Nothing should entice her back here until the man who was after her was caught. “The season’s not ready to end. Stay there and stay safe.”
She quieted a moment. “Is our business getting any calls?”
“Ha ha.”
“Sweet dreams. See you soon.” She clicked off.
I hoped her last statement to me wouldn’t come true. The police needed to hurry and catch the man trying to kill her. I got ready for bed, hoping things would look better in the morning. A nagging fear told me they wouldn’t.
Chapter 19
In the morning, I phoned the detective covering Eve’s case and asked to come in. He didn’t have time, but wanted to know what I needed.
“Did you get the message that my neighbor Miss Hawthorne called in yesterday about hearing a man running down the street soon after she’d heard a noise that sounded like a gunshot?”
“I did. So do you have anything new? I need to leave.”
“She might not have told your office this, but the man who was running wore black dress shoes and black pants with cuffs.” When a snort left his nostrils, I rushed on. “Come on, Detective, give me something. My sister wants to come back home.”
“Don’t let her.”
“I’m trying not to. Please help me.”
“I can tell you this much about what we’ve learned. Zane Snelling had been taking line dance lessons in town.”
“I know. That’s where Eve met him.”
“Well, Lillian took those lessons, too. Maybe he went to her house for help to learn some of the steps better.” When I released a chuckle, he quieted. He didn’t believe what he suggested any more than I did.
“You have to leave this case to us,” he said. “These are dangerous people. We’ll get the perpetrators.”
But will it be in time? Will you solve everything before Eve insists on returning to her house?
I called Eve and relayed the new bit of info.
“I don’t know which one Lillian is, but I do know a few people from that class.” How nice to hear a small amount of enthusiasm in her tone.
“Give me names, and I can call them,” I said.
“Oh, no, I’ll make some contacts, see what I can find out.”
“Great.” The slight tug of the lifted corners of my lips felt alien but welcome. My twin and I might be making a little headway in finding perpetrators ourselves. At least she could make calls from Houston, which would keep her away from our city.
It was no use contacting people about possible jobs for us. By now everyone in town knew Daria had been murdered. They still weren’t assured that inferior workmanship by our company didn’t cause Zane’s death, and I couldn’t look at bills that were creating a pile that frightened the shadowy corner of my kitchen counter.
Instead, I returned to Eve’s house. Pulling into her driveway, I peered back at a truck I heard slowing while it passed. The driver was Dave. I doubted he could see me when he glanced toward my truck and then slid his gaze over the house, possibly like me checking to make certain things looked okay. An unusual tug built inside. I shoved my hand up to the truck’s horn, wanting him to stop so I could bring him inside. Be alone with him.
I yanked my hand down. What was wrong with me?
Waiting long minutes until he passed, I slid out and went inside. Dave’s presence on the street made me think to check on the newly installed alarm. I pressed the correct numbers on the control pad and entered Home. I wished I’d paid attention when I first heard the code instead of acting so self-assured. I might have stopped a man from firing a gun at my sister. When I imagined that scene again, a thought of a song came, but I shoved the urge off and walked through rooms. Everything looked the same as before, including her studio holding that single large bright painting. I set the alarm for nobody inside and went out and locked the door.
A crayfish omelet for breakfast was really what drew me to return here. I checked Mrs. Wilburn’s backyard, didn’t see anyone, and strode to her backdoor.
Before I could knock, she yanked the wooden door open, the screen door between her and me surely still locked. “Can I help you?” She had watched me outside Eve’s house and, I felt certain, could tell my twin and me apart since she’d snooped on Eve’s activities so often.
“Mrs. Wilburn, your son told police he’d seen a man with a hat snooping around my sister’s place. Had you seen him, too? Do you know if it was someone from the gas or electric company reading a meter?”
Her face pinched up, tight lips pushed forward. “I didn’t look. I don’t have time to sit around and stare out of my windows all day.”
I forced back a snort. “I guess you have to cook a lot. And peel crayfish and things for your son.”
Her head jerked back as though I’d slapped her. “Royce normally peels his own.”
“You’re talking about me?” Dark-eyed Ro
yce swooped beside her, annoyance written in his tone to his mother and his frown at her.
“She said you usually peel your own crayfish,” I told him. “That’s good.”
“Why? Did somebody think I was stupid and needed to have my momma still peel them for me?”
“No.” I fought the temptation to reach out and try to yank the screen door open. I’d be most satisfied if one of them would invite me in so I could learn more. That wasn’t going to happen. This young man or his mother might have been the person carrying the strong smell of boiled crayfish at Zane’s funeral.
I needed to get answers while I could. “Did either of you know Zane or Daria Snelling?”
She shook her head.
“I didn’t,” he said.
She turned on him. “Isn’t that the woman you cut grass for that time?”
His cheeks tightened. “I don’t remember.”
“We have things to do,” his mother told me. “I hope your sister’s doing well.”
“She is. I’ll tell her you’re concerned.” I got most of those words out before she shut the wooden door in my face. The lock clicked.
She knew Eve was out of town although we hadn’t broadcast that news. I trotted to my twin’s backyard, sat on the ledge of the fountain that she’d left on to appear as though she remained inside, and sent her a text asking what kind of work Royce did.
Three dings came from my phone with her message.
Cut grass a couple of times. Tried being a professional gambler in Vegas awhile. Probably piled up tons of debt. Why?
Just an idea. Maybe nothing. Later.
I cast my gaze toward their house. With no windows in my view, they couldn’t see me. What if Royce needed to repay a lot of money and decided to break into Eve’s house? It would have been easy for him to smash her sliding backdoor that day after he’d seen her leaving to workout at the gym. My heart rate increased as I considered that possibility, which would bring us closer to getting life normal for her. After police arrested whoever was causing the threat, she’d be okay.
Royce might have also been at Zane’s funeral. But so what if he was? The only problem was if he lied to me about knowing either of the Snellings. Then suppose Royce wanted to steal from Eve’s house. He could have smashed the paintings for meanness. But why write that question on her wall?
My main concern was why he would have come back here with a knit hat pulled low and tried to shoot her?
Unless two people were involved.
I pushed up from the fountain’s ledge, satisfied that the odor of bleach from the water and sound of it pouring out of the angel’s pail onto plastic goldfish planted me into reality. Surely only one person had wanted to harm my twin. I hoped I or the police would discover that person soon.
Reaching my truck out front, I found a patrol car passing. The driver stared at me, and I waved with a smile, content to find officers checking on Eve’s house. I drove to mine, needing to figure out what I might do next. One thing that came to mind was taking the picture of Daria to salesclerks at the supermarket. I could ask if they remembered seeing her and the man with her the day after Zane’s funeral. That man might hold the real clue to the people who died and the threat to my sister. But neither of the Snellings’ obituaries had provided a picture. Their deaths were mentioned. Zane’s had told of the funeral arrangements but nothing else.
At home, I unlocked my backdoor and walked in.
My body went stiff when I found someone inside.
Chapter 20
“Go back!” I insisted to my intruder.
“I love seeing you, too.” Seated at the table, Eve lifted her Sprite in salutation. “Now give me a hug.” She stood, and I struggled with the desire to both hold her and chase her away.
I gave in to my first instinct and wrapped my arms around my sister. How wonderful she felt, how comforting to have her near. Until I recalled why I didn’t want her around. I loosened my grip to inspect her face. “The knot on your head is almost gone, and your color’s nearly normal. Just a little yellow and purple around the eye.”
“To match our business’s shirts,” she said with a wide smile.
“I think we can shove them in the back of our closets.”
“Still nobody’s trusting us, huh?”
I shook my head. “But at least you’re okay. Now go away.” Instead of leaving, she sat. I joined her. “How’d you get here? You’ve been texting me. And your car’s still in your garage.”
“Jacques drove me here.”
“Eve, he and his new wife brought you to Houston when they were going home. But your ex-husband certainly didn’t drive five or more hours just to bring you back here. And I sure hope Melanie was with him.”
She shook her head. “Melanie left for a trip with some girlfriends right after we got there, and he hasn’t heard from her since.”
“How did you know that?
“Darn it, he’s been calling me every day, saying he wanted to check and see if I was all right.”
I reached out and grabbed her hand. “You need to discourage him.”
“I do. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to get away from there. I said I was coming to your place and knew Jacques wouldn’t keep calling when I’m here. He knows you’d tell him off if he did.” She stood and tossed her empty drink can in the trash.
“But you can’t stay around here. Whoever was after you is still out there. If he sees you...” A hum buzzed in my throat.
“I hadn’t heard ‘Silver Bells` in a while.”
Up on my feet, I faced her. “I love you, and you can’t go to your house. That’s where you’ve been threatened twice. You have to leave town. This time I’ll bring you.”
“I love you, too. And I love my daughter and her husband who’re driving me crazy.” She shifted away. “They check me out every minute. Both of them know if the purple under my eye blends into the yellow. They’re using mental markers on my cheek to determine how far the bruising extends in a day. I can’t stand it, Sunny. I want to wait on my very pregnant child, but she keeps shoving me to the sofa, insisting I lie down, take it easy.” Shoulders lowered, Eve quit talking.
I gave her a minute. “So what did you plan to do to keep a killer away if you stay here?”
“No one will know. We won’t be seen together. We won’t even go out of the house at the same time.” She tilted her head toward my hall. “My clothes are in the mauve bedroom.”
Her idea just might work. But only if police caught the man who was after her really soon and we weren’t both out at the same time. Let whoever wanted to get her attack her house again while it’s unoccupied.
“I want to borrow your truck and go see Mom,” she said.
“Uh-uh. She’ll know who you are, and then all her friends will know, and word will get out that you’re back and that guy will come after you again.”
“That won’t happen. I’ll take care of it.” She scooted past me, and I followed to the mauve bedroom, where she retrieved her purse from a shelf in the closet. Hanging inside that space were other items we’d packed for her to take to Texas.
“I can’t believe Jacques just drove you back here.” I shook my head, amazed that we could be so alike, yet so different. “Girl, you’ve got the first man you divorced still wanting you even after he finally remarried. And your second one. Stan, who slept at your house while he was in town.”
“But I told you we didn’t sleep together. And did I tell you he’s engaged?” She slipped off the heels she wore and retrieved shoes with heels that weren’t as high.
“I’m glad he’ll get married again. I like Stan.”
She sat on the edge of the bed to slide her feet into the shoes. “And I love knowing who he’s engaged to—Dave Price’s sister! Now Dave and I will have an even closer connection.”
“Oh.”
She stood and rubbed a finger over my lips. “Get that frown off. Be happy for me. After all the th
reats I’d been getting, something good might be coming my way.”
Forcing my lips into an upward curve, I leaned my forehead against hers. “I’m happy about anything positive that comes to you.”
“Good.” She slipped on wide-rimmed dark glasses and pulled a section of hair down to cover the bump on her forehead. “Now give me your keys. I won’t be long.”
I gave her orders about staying secure and trying to look like me as much as possible. I also warned her to check my rearview mirrors to make certain no one was following her. While I tried to think of more caution she might take, she slipped out the door and took off with my truck.
I was concerned about her, but sitting with fear wouldn’t help anything. I needed a new plan. And I couldn’t step out of my house while she was in town.
She’d given me new information to consider. Her first husband brought her back to south Louisiana. Jacques probably didn’t drop her off here and turn right around and start driving back to Texas. Would he try to contact her when she wasn’t near me? And where was Melanie, his new wife?
What about Dave’s sister and Stan? Was that connection a good one?
I called Dave’s office.
“I’ll see if he’s in,” the secretary said.
While waiting, I experienced conflicting emotions. The man tempted me. This situation between his sister and Stan concerned me. I wasn’t sure why but needed to know more about it.
“Hello, this is Dave.” His deep tone drew me to him.
“Hi. This is Sunny Taylor. Could you meet with me?”
“Yes. Is there a problem? Did your sister’s alarm quit working?”
“It’s something I’d like to talk to you about in person.” We couldn’t meet here in case Eve came here, too. “Maybe the Midtown Coffee Shop? Tomorrow morning at ten?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Good.” I hung up. No, my sister was not going to learn about this meeting. It might only entice her to be with him, or she’d try to stop me from what I had planned. I couldn’t believe how much I looked forward to meeting with this man.
