by Marta Perry
“I’m sure.” Deidre clamped her lips together as if to keep herself from saying more. “Thank you for checking.”
Off the hook, he gave a sigh of relief. “No trouble, ma’am. That’s my job. Don’t you hesitate to call if anything worries you.”
Touching his cap, he spun and marched to the waiting police car.
Deidre looked after him, frustration written plainly on her face. “Now it’ll be all over town by tomorrow that I’m imagining things.” She shifted her gaze to him. “I suppose you think so, too.”
“No, I don’t.” The certainty he felt surprised him, but even if he hadn’t been aware of the circumstances, he wouldn’t have thought Deidre was a woman likely to panic at a sudden storm and a few odd noises.
She blew out a long breath. “Sorry. I shouldn’t take it out on you.” She hesitated, then gestured to the doorway. “Would you like to come in?”
He suspected the stiffness in her manner was caused by her memory of that kiss. “I’d like to hear what happened from you, but first, can you let me have a flashlight?”
“A flashlight? But the officer just looked around and didn’t find anything.”
“Call me stubborn. I’d like to see for myself.”
Deidre moved to the small cabinet under a mirror in the entry and took a flashlight from the drawer. “Here you are. Just knock when you’re done. The doorbell might wake Kevin.”
He nodded, switching on the light. Satisfied that it emitted a strong beam, he backed off the porch, sweeping it along the porch floor, the steps and the shrubs on either side. There was nothing to be seen here except some dry twigs that had probably been blown from the trees by the wind.
Why should there be? The intruder could easily have kept to the walk, avoiding leaving any marks on the damp ground.
Still sweeping the area with the torch, he moved around the house, taking careful note of the mulched flower beds along the foundation. He didn’t hit pay dirt until he reached the back of the house. There, under a window that looked in on the office at the back of the house he’d seen earlier, the mulch was scuffed and disturbed.
Jason squatted, holding the beam steady on the marks. Thanks to the rain, most likely, the ground was too scuffed to show an identifiable print, but it seemed obvious that someone had stood there, looking in the window. Had Deidre been sitting in the room? Judging by the fact that the chair was pushed out and the computer on, he’d guess she had been. Revulsion swamped him for a moment at the image of an unidentifiable figure spying on her.
The white clapboards didn’t show any marks, nor the windowsill. Jason stood, frowning for a moment. It seemed unlikely that Chief Carmichaels would make any further investigation, although he might if pushed. So it was up to him.
Juggling the flashlight by clamping it between his arm and his side, he snapped a couple of quick photos of the disturbed ground with his cell phone. Not professional, by any means, but better than nothing.
Jason moved along the back of the house without finding anything else. When he got to the back porch, he found that by reaching up he could easily touch the lightbulb. It felt loose in his hand. He gave it a twist, and the light came on.
Unsatisfactory. The bulb could have worked its way loose on its own, he supposed, but it was way too easy for someone to get at it...someone who didn’t want to be seen.
He finished his circuit of the house without finding anything and tapped softly on the front door. Deidre opened it immediately and motioned him in.
“Did you find anything?”
Jason set the flashlight down. He didn’t like to alarm her, but Deidre needed to know where she stood, both for her sake and the boy’s. “It looks to me as if someone stood by the back window that looks in on the room where your computer is.”
Her eyes widened. “Stood by the window... You mean someone was watching me?”
“Looks that way. Is that where you were before you heard the knock on the door?”
Nodding, Deidre spun on her heel and went quickly toward the back room. He followed. Apparently she needed to see for herself.
She stood at the window for a moment, looking out at the dark. Then she grasped the shade and pulled it all the way down. When she turned to face him, she was forcing a smile.
“I guess I won’t sit in here after dark without taking precautions. Thank you, Jason.”
Her earlier stiffness with him was gone, and he was irrationally relieved.
“There’s another precaution I think is necessary. That back porch light is too easy for someone to get at. It wasn’t on because it was loose in the socket.”
“Deliberately loosened?” She caught the implication.
He shrugged. “Hard to say. But what you need is a motion-sensor light with a protective screen over it. I’ll pick one up tomorrow and install it for you.”
He half expected an argument, but she seemed too disturbed by the thought of someone tampering with the light to dispute who would replace it.
“I never thought of that.” She sat down abruptly and gestured him to the other chair. “When I was growing up, we never even locked the house unless we were going to be away overnight.”
“Times have changed.” Not wanting to destroy the momentary peace between them, he didn’t bring up her too-trusting nature. “And given what happened here, it’s only sensible to take precautions.”
Deidre paled. “You think this was someone after Kevin?”
“No. No, I don’t think so.” He didn’t, did he? “If Dixie’s attacker was afraid Kevin might be able to describe him, he must know by now that isn’t so. Even if he didn’t trust the police statement, he’d realize that if Kevin knew anything, the police would also know it. What would be the point of putting himself in more jeopardy by going after the boy now? But I am wondering about that ex-husband of Dixie’s.”
Some of the strain went out of her face. “I guess it’s possible, but why would he want to play tricks like that? It’s not as if he made a serious attempt to get in.”
“Resentment toward you for not allowing him access to Dixie’s apartment, maybe? Just plain meanness? I don’t know, but I think Chief Carmichaels should be reminded that he might have been here tonight. You did tell him about Hanlon trying to get into the apartment, didn’t you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“In any event, he’ll want to talk to Hanlon, and suspicion of prowling will give him a bit more ammunition, maybe a reason to throw a scare into him, if nothing else.”
She nodded. “I’ll call him in the morning.” Her smile looked a bit more genuine this time. “I’d really set people talking if I called him at home at this hour.”
“You’ve got plenty of reason to be upset. I’m sure people realize that.” If they didn’t, they should.
But Deidre had stopped listening to him. Instead, she was intent on a small white receiver that sat on the corner of her desk. A baby monitor, he realized after a moment. A rustling sound came from it, and then a sleepy voice.
“Mommy?”
Deidre was out of her chair in an instant. “I’ll just settle him down again.” The words were tossed over her shoulder as she hurried toward the stairs.
He eyed the monitor. At a guess, Deidre had started using it again after she brought Kevin home from the hospital. He heard Kevin call to her once more and then the sound of her footsteps came through the device.
“Okay, Kev, I’m here.” Her tone was soft, soothing. “Did something wake you up?”
Kevin murmured something, maybe only half awake. “...dream. Bad dream.”
“Only a dream.” The bed creaked as she sat down on it. “Dreams can’t hurt you.”
Jason knew how concerned she had to be about her child, given everything that had happened. He had to admire the strength that allowed her to sta
y calm and reassuring with her son.
“We’ll just tuck you in again, right? And put Bear on one side and Doggie on the other. They’ll chase away the bad dreams.”
Kevin gave a murmured assent, already sliding back into sleep, he suspected. Deidre hummed something—a tune he couldn’t immediately identify, though he found it soothing.
That was what mothers did—at least, the kind of mothers who lived in houses like this and didn’t rely on alcohol or drugs or men to make it to the next day.
Jase ran a hand through his hair and tried to rub the tension away from the back of his neck. Keeping silent got harder every day, but telling her that the judge had him investigating her wouldn’t help. It would bring things to an open breach, with no telling what the results would be.
If he proved the judge wrong about Deidre, she’d never need to know. She wouldn’t have to live with the idea that her husband hadn’t trusted her. That was a comforting rationalization, but tonight’s happenings had thrown a different light on things.
If you wanted to know what had been intended, you had to look at the results.
And the results of tonight’s prowling, whatever else happened, could be a rumor going around that Deidre was unstable, imagining things.
How much might that benefit the judge in his mission to control his grandson’s future? Common sense wouldn’t allow Jase to picture Judge Franklin Morris creeping around in the dark and knocking on doors. It was ludicrous to think that, wasn’t it?
Deidre came back in, glancing at the monitor as if to assure herself that Kevin had gone back to sleep.
“All’s well?” he asked lightly.
“I think so.” A frown formed as she sat down again. “He hasn’t had any bad dreams since...well, I don’t remember when.”
“He’s been through a lot of upset lately.” He didn’t know much about kids, but that made sense. Since that hadn’t reduced her frown, he added, “You’re a good mother, Deidre.”
She looked a little startled. “Thank you. It’s funny... Sylvia Morris said something like that to me the last time she was here.”
“That’s good, right? If your mother-in-law thinks so, it must be so.”
Deidre smiled, but there seemed to be something more troubling her. For a moment he thought she was going to confide in him, but the moment passed.
“Poor Sylvia. I suspect it was more that she felt she hadn’t been a very good mother to Frank. Because...”
She let that trail off, but he knew the rest of it. Everyone in town seemed to know that Sylvia Morris had alcohol problems. He could sympathize with Frank on that score.
“I know. Her problems have been going on for a long time, have they?”
Deidre nodded. “I remember a birthday party for Frank... He must have been only about six or seven. She burst into the middle of it, singing and acting silly. I didn’t have any idea then what caused it. I just remember feeling so embarrassed for Frank.”
“It’s not easy for a kid. Your mother’s supposed to be the rock who’s always there for you.”
She was looking at him as if seeing more than the words. He very nearly spoke, nearly told her things about his childhood he didn’t tell anyone.
The phone rang, saving him from making a fool of himself. With an apologetic grimace, Deidre picked up.
“Adam?” She sounded surprised, glancing at the clock as if wondering why her minister was calling this late.
And Jason wondered, as well. He saw again that anonymous letter, and his jaw tightened. He couldn’t hear what the man was saying. He could only judge by her responses.
“We’re fine, really. The police stopped by because I thought I heard a prowler.”
She paused, obviously listening. He could actually catch an agitated flow of sound, though he couldn’t distinguish any words. Pastor Adam was clearly disturbed.
“No, that’s not necessary. I appreciate it, but it’s not needed.”
Another crackle of sound from the phone, still high and fast.
“But I’m not alone.” Deidre’s voice had firmed. “I have a friend with me, and there’s nothing you can do here. Thanks for calling, I do appreciate it.”
A few more exchanges, and she finally hung up.
“Adam Bennett. Someone apparently saw the police car in front of the house and called him. You see what I mean about how fast news gets around?”
At the moment, Jason was more interested in Adam’s assumption that he should race to the rescue.
“Maybe you should have let him come over. He obviously wants to help you.” He wanted to see her reaction...to look for any sign that her relationship with the minister was anything other than what it appeared.
Deidre’s eyebrows lifted. “But I don’t need him. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but it would be foolish for him to come rushing over.”
“Maybe he feels responsible for you.” He paused. “As your minister, of course.”
“I suppose he feels responsible for all his congregation. He’s young enough to think he can solve everyone’s problems.” She sounded indulgent, as if she spoke of a younger brother.
“Mothering him, are you?” He didn’t know what put that edge in his voice. He couldn’t be jealous.
She stiffened. “Why would I do that?”
“That seems to be your pattern. Mothering him the way you mothered Frank.”
He’d gone too far—way too far. What had happened to his control?
Deidre rose, her posture stiff. When she spoke her words could have formed icicles. “You don’t know anything about my relationship with my husband. If you...” She stopped, seeming to struggle for control, and turned away from him.
“Thank you for coming over,” she said finally. “I think you’d better leave now.”
He thought so, too. He’d already done enough damage for one night.
CHAPTER NINE
“THANKS SO MUCH for coming with me, Judith.” Deidre paused from packing clothes from Dixie’s closet to send a glance of appreciation at her friend. “I hated the thought of doing this on my own.”
Not only the doing, but just being alone in Dixie’s apartment after what had happened the last time she was here. She wasn’t afraid, exactly. Just nervy about the memory of seeing the doorknob turn and confronting Dixie’s ex-husband.
“I’m happy to help. Sorting the things folks leave behind can be difficult.” She straightened, her arms full of the stack of jeans she’d taken from the bottom drawer of the dresser. “Sometimes, especially if it was an older person, you can enjoy reminiscing while you do it, ain’t so?”
“I suppose. It’s a little more difficult when you think of Dixie’s life cut short the way it was.” Deidre folded a sundress, hands smoothing the bright tropical flowers. “Dixie just bought this a few weeks ago. She couldn’t wait for the weather to be hot enough to wear it.” Deidre quickly put it in the box designated for the clothing drive, trying not to think of how well the bright print would have suited Dixie.
Judith pulled open another drawer and stopped, frowning a little. “There are some folders here with what look like forms and bills. What should I do with those?”
“We’ll have to start another box with things to take back to my place.” She’d never realized how difficult the simplest things could become in the event of a sudden death without a surviving spouse. “Not that Dixie owned that much, but all the paperwork has to be gone through, and most companies won’t let me deal with her accounts unless I produce a copy of the death certificate and my authorization.” This experience had been quite an education in bureaucracy.
“Ach, it’s simpler just to deal in cash and keep your money under the mattress, I think.” Judith’s eyes twinkled.
“As if you could make me believe you carry on that way. I
know perfectly well you and Eli have an account at the bank.”
Judith shrugged, putting files into one of the boxes they’d carried over. “Even the Amish have to keep up with the times in some ways.”
Having finished with the clothes that had hung in the closet, Deidre reached up to the shelf and began pulling things down. For a few minutes they were each absorbed in what they were doing, and Deidre found her thoughts straying to what had happened the previous night. She could hardly forget it, when she’d had a visit from Chief Carmichaels first thing this morning.
At least he had seemed to believe her, and like Jason, he’d frowned over the scuffed earth beneath her windows and advised a motion-sensor light. If he’d had any thoughts as to who might have been tormenting her, he’d kept them to himself, but his face had been grave when he left. And she suspected the young patrolman’s ears were going to be burning shortly over the fact that he’d missed what Jason had found so readily.
Jason. She’d been trying to avoid thinking of him, but that didn’t seem to be working too well. He had been a tower of strength when he’d rushed over to help. And when they’d sat and talked for a few minutes, she’d felt that they were beginning to know one another.
Then Adam Bennett called, and everything had changed. Now that she thought about it, Jason had been a bit short about the minister’s attentions once before. He almost seemed to have something against the man, and she found it hard to believe anyone could take an instant dislike to someone as innocuous as Adam.
She finished putting sun hats and handbags into a box for the church rummage sale and pulled the lid from a box that had been stored at the back of the closet shelf. It was filled with what seemed a miscellaneous collection of things—a few books, some trinkets, a group of what looked like figurines wrapped in tissue paper and who knew what else.
“I think this box will have to go back to the house for sorting.” She put the lid back on it. “How are you coming along?”
“I’ve finished the dresser. Shall I start on the kitchen?”
