by Jana DeLeon
Jimmy touched her arm. “You can pay me back by being careful and getting help.”
Her eyes stung with unshed tears. Everything—David’s death, the break-in, the scarf, the car, and now the concern of a stranger, had her completely undone. “I will,” she said. “And thank you. Thank you so much.”
“You let me know if you need anything.” He handed her the keys. “It’s parked up front.”
Emma took the keys and rushed out of the building. She jumped into the car and pulled away, the tires screeching as she rounded the corner. She turned the air on full blast and directed it toward her face. The overwhelming desire to run coursed through her, but the one thing that eluded her was where to run to. The only answer she could come up with was “somewhere safe.”
But she didn’t know where that was.
###
Shaye was looking up information on David’s employer when a call came in from Emma. If she hadn’t seen her client’s name in the display, she wouldn’t have known who it was. Emma’s voice, which had been low and smooth, even when she’d been obviously upset, was high-pitched and frantic.
Shaye gripped her phone. “Slow down so that I can understand you.”
“He disconnected my battery,” Emma said, slowing her pitch and pacing enough for Shaye to understand. “If the security guard hadn’t walked me to my car last night, I would have been a sitting duck. But that’s not the worst of it. Today when I took the car to be repaired, some kid on a skateboard gave me a scarf that some other guy told him I’d dropped.”
Shaye frowned, certain that between the car battery and the scarf, she’d missed something important, but she had no idea what. Although she could understand Emma now as far as speech went, she was making no sense. “I don’t understand the scarf part.”
“I know. Sorry. I had to stop talking for a minute so that I could breathe.”
Shaye heard Emma intake and blow out several breaths, and her concern ticked up another notch. If Emma had been frightened before, she was terrified now.
“I didn’t drop the scarf,” Emma said. “It was one David gave me last Christmas. I threw it out with a bunch of other stuff last week. I didn’t want anything in the house that reminded me of him, so I started going through everything and put it all in a trash bag and threw it out. I know I did. And that scarf was in there. I’m certain it was in there.”
Shaye felt her back tighten. Emma was rambling, but Shaye couldn’t blame her. She didn’t understand all the particulars, but what she understood so far was that someone had gone through Emma’s trash and recovered the scarf, then had a kid deliver it to her. The things she’d feared most about this case were all coming to fruition. Someone was hell-bent on terrifying Emma, and even worse, he’d had no trouble finding her.
Which meant he was following her or had a tracking device on her car.
“I understand how scary this is,” Shaye said, “but I need you to do your best to stay calm, and I need to see your house. Can you do that? Can you meet me at your house?”
“Yes. No! He’s got to be following me, right? I took my car to a mechanic my aunt used. I’ve never been there before today. If I go to the house, he’ll follow me there. He’ll see you. And when he finds out you’re a private investigator, he might come after you, too. I can’t have that on my conscience.”
“Take a breath. I agree wholeheartedly that I don’t want him to find out what I do, but surely there’s some way of going there that he wouldn’t find suspicious. What about a Realtor? You said you were looking into selling.”
“I already have a Realtor. She lives in the neighborhood. If he’s been watching, he’s already seen her at my house measuring.”
“Okay,” Shaye said, trying to think of another reasonable cover. She glanced around her mostly empty apartment and smiled. “What about an interior decorator? You said the house was old. Doing some updates before you list it would improve value, right?”
“Yes. That’s what the Realtor said, but if he’s watching, how would he know you’re a decorator?”
“Don’t worry about that. I have an idea. What time is your shift?”
“I’m off today.”
“Great. Then can you meet me there in an hour?”
For several seconds, there was only silence, and Shaye wondered if Emma was going to flat out refuse.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” Emma finally asked.
“Positive. And please don’t worry. It’s going to be fine.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you there in an hour.”
“Great.” Shaye jumped up from the couch and grabbed her purse. “Don’t go in the house until I get there.”
“I’m not about to. And Shaye?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks for not quitting on me.”
“Never.”
Chapter Six
Shaye slipped the cell phone into her purse and hurried outside to her car. Corrine had recently redone several rooms in her house. The big books with fabric swatches and floor samples were in the coat closet. She hoped. With any luck, Corrine would be at work and unavailable to ask a million questions or launch into trying to convince Shaye to move back home.
Unfortunately, luck was not with her that day. Corrine’s car was parked in front of the house, which meant she’d probably run home for some paperwork or other items she’d taken home to work on and forgotten that morning. Shaye parked behind her and headed into the house and opened the coat closet. She was relieved to see the sample books still sitting on the shelf.
As she pulled the books down, Corrine came out of the hallway from the kitchen.
“Shaye,” she said. “I didn’t expect to see you.”
Shaye grinned at her adoptive mother. “Are you complaining about it?”
“Of course not.” Corrine walked over and gave her a hug. “I just figured you’d be busy unpacking or decorating. Well, maybe not decorating.” She looked down at the books in Shaye’s hands and one hand flew up to her chest. “Be still my heart. You are decorating.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m working a case.”
Corrine’s eyes widened. “A case? So soon?”
“The client showed up yesterday while I was moving in.”
“Please tell me it’s Nancy Drew and the Case of the Matching Drapes.”
Shaye laughed. Corrine’s worry sometimes made Shaye feel as if she was being smothered, but she knew Corrine’s heart was in the right place. And given the amount of horrible things Corrine saw and heard every day, Shaye gave her more leeway than she would have on the overprotective vibe.
“I’m afraid not,” Shaye said. “I need to meet with the client and neither of us want anyone who might see that meeting to know what I do. She has an old house, so…” Shaye held up the books.
“You’re pretending to be a decorator.” Corrine bit her lower lip. “I don’t know whether to be happy that you won’t be flashing your PI status around or worried that you and a client think you need to hide it.”
Shaye leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry about either. It’s a meeting with a client in her house in broad daylight. Everything will be fine.”
“But you’ll call me when the meeting is over, right?”
“I’ll call. I have to dash.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you too.” Shaye hurried out to her car and tossed the books on the passenger’s seat. She waved at Corrine, who was standing in the doorway, a worried look on her face. Shaye shook her head as she pulled away. Most younger people were annoyed when their parents got into overprotective zone, but then technically, Corrine had never gotten out of it. Not where Shaye was concerned.
And Shaye would be the first to admit that sometimes it was a little frustrating, but she couldn’t get irritated with Corrine. The woman had quite literally saved her life. The best medical care, the best tutors, the best mental health care. Without all those things, Shaye had no doubt that she could not hav
e become a productive adult. Corrine had taken her in as a teenager, one with no past, and given her the future she couldn’t have gotten from the state. The fact that Corrine was only twenty-nine when she took Shaye in made the woman even more impressive. She’d been only five years older than Shaye was now, and Shaye couldn’t imagine taking on the responsibility of caring for a perfectly healthy child, much less one with the issues she’d had.
Shaye’s past might be a forgotten trip through hell, but she’d won the lottery in Corrine.
She merged onto the highway and drove over the bridge to Algiers. The historic community was a mixed bag, depending on the street you drove down. Some homes looked as if they needed to be bulldozed. Other blocks held some beautifully renovated homes and others in the process of being improved.
Emma’s aunt’s house was one of the nicer homes on the block. Emma claimed her aunt had taken good care of it, and it showed. The siding on the outside was painted light gray and showed no signs of buckling or peeling. Turquoise shutters and trim provided an upbeat feel to the home, and huge rose azalea bushes made it homey. It was a shame that such a pretty place was the location of such horrible things.
Shaye parked at the curb and grabbed a small duffel bag from the backseat, then climbed out of the car. Duffel over her shoulder, she walked around to the passenger’s side to collect the sample books. As she closed the car door, Emma pulled up and parked behind her.
Shaye took a good look at Emma as she climbed out of her car and hurried toward Shaye. The circles under her eyes were darker than the day before, or maybe her skin was paler, if that were even possible. Her movements were twitchy and she glanced around as if she thought something was going to attack her any moment.
“Let me help you with those,” Emma said and took some of the sample books. She looked down at them and then back at Shaye. “Sample books,” she said, her voice low. “That’s perfect.”
“I told you to trust me.”
A tiny bit of panic left Emma’s eyes and she nodded. “Then let’s go inside and take a look at these samples,” she said in her regular voice and glanced over Shaye’s shoulders.
Shaye heard footsteps behind her and turned to see a tall, heavyset woman, probably in her thirties, walking with a cane. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her makeup was a little too dark for the middle of the day.
“Patty.” Shaye watched as Emma forced a smile and waved her hand between the two of them. “This is Patty. She lives in the neighborhood and is my Realtor. This is Carla. She’s one of the decorators I’m going to talk to about updating a few things in the house before I get it on the market.”
Patty stuck her left hand out to Shaye. “My right side doesn’t cooperate as well,” she said as Shaye shook her hand. “I’m glad you’re thinking about doing some updating. I wouldn’t put too much money into it, though. The house is going to bring a great price simply because of the condition it’s in, but a little updating to the kitchen and the master bathroom wouldn’t hurt.”
Emma nodded. “I’m going to talk to a couple of people, then if you have time, I’d like to get with you and see what you recommend.”
“Of course. Just let me know when you’re ready. Me and the house aren’t going anywhere. It was nice to meet you, Carla.”
“You, too,” Shaye said and followed Emma up the sidewalk and onto the front porch.
“MS,” Emma said. “It’s heartbreaking. She can’t be much older than I am, but she can’t walk without a cane. Yet every day she gets a mile in. Most able-bodied people don’t bother to walk at all, and she’s out struggling for every step.”
“That’s tough,” Shaye said as she watched Patty slow down to cross over a section of broken sidewalk.
Emma pushed the door open and they stepped inside. “Do you want something to drink?” Emma asked.
“That would be great.”
Emma waved Shaye toward the back of the house. “The kitchen is this way. I have no idea what I’ve got in the refrigerator, so we may have to settle for water.”
“That’s fine.” Shaye followed Emma down the hallway to the kitchen and took in the small room while Emma dug around in the fridge.
“Do you keep a set of spare keys for your car somewhere?” Shaye asked.
“Yes. In the drawer next to the sink. Why?”
Shaye pulled open the drawer and pushed the stuff inside around, looking for a car key. “Because he couldn’t open the hood of your car without one. There’s no key in the drawer.”
Emma whirled around. “He must have taken it when he broke in.”
“Probably so.”
The window over the sink was closed but the curtains were open, and Shaye could see the nosy neighbor as he stepped outside and peered toward Emma’s window. Shaye lifted her hand to wave at him and he hurried off to the other side of the lawn.
“That’s Mr. Abshire,” Emma said. “He doesn’t miss much.”
Shaye turned around and took the can of diet soda that Emma offered her. “Was he standing in his front window waiting for you to pull up?”
“Probably. If he wasn’t so old, and was remotely sneaky, I’d think he was the stalker.”
Shaye smiled at the thought of the man she’d just seen—who had to be eighty years old if he was a day—sneaking into Emma’s house. “He’d never make it up those narrow stairs. And if he did, going back down them would get him.”
Emma nodded. “True. Aunt Margaret moved to the bedroom off the kitchen the last couple years she was living. It’s tiny, but the stairs got to be too much for her. I was terrified that she’d fall and no one would be around to help her.”
“I suppose Mr. Abshire wasn’t as nosy when it was only your aunt here to spy on.”
Emma smiled. “Oh, Mr. Abshire would have totally hooked up with Aunt Margaret if she’d given him the time of day.”
Shaye was glad to see Emma smile. She’d been worried that being in the house would make Emma even more panicked than she was when she’d arrived, but she seemed to be relaxing some with their casual conversation. Unfortunately, Shaye needed to get down to business.
“Is it all right if I look around?” Shaye asked.
“Of course.”
Shaye opened her duffel bag and pulled out a small tool set that she tucked into her back jeans pocket, then grabbed her cell phone from her purse and left both bags on the kitchen table. “I’m ready for my grand tour.”
Emma guided Shaye through the downstairs rooms. Shaye took pictures as they went, not because she spotted anything of relevance but because you never knew when something might become relevant. Her goal was to keep Emma from returning to the house until the stalker was apprehended. The windows were all intact and showed no signs of tampering, just as Jackson Lamotte had said. Not that Shaye had doubted him, but she wouldn’t be doing her job if she didn’t check herself.
They headed upstairs and into the master bedroom with its connected bath. Emma showed Shaye the bathroom window she’d left open and the tree branch outside that could have been used for her escape.
“Is the alarm box in the master bedroom closet?” Shaye asked.
“Yes.” Emma opened a door and Shaye entered the small walk-in and opened the panel on the security system box.
“I looked at it that night,” Emma said, “and it all looked fine to me, but I’ll be the first to admit I have no idea what I’m looking at. The cop who searched the house looked too, but he didn’t mention anything being wrong.”
Shaye pulled the tools out of her back pocket and went to work on the electrical outlet that held the power adapter. “He wasn’t looking as closely as me.” She worked the electrical plug out from the wall and held it up for Emma to see. “It’s not wired.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “But isn’t there a battery for when the power goes out?”
Shaye nodded and lifted the battery out of the security panel box. She pulled the right battery terminal off and looked at it, but it appeared
okay. When she pulled the left one, it snapped off completely, leaving small bits of a clear plastic substance in her hand.
“What is it?” Emma asked.
“Superglue. He broke the terminal and glued it on to make it look like it was still connected.”
The bit of color that had returned to Emma’s face, left. “But how did he get inside the house to begin with? I changed the locks.”
“If someone has the right tools and knowledge, they can pick a lock. What did David do in the military?”
“He was infantry, but he trained to repair their trucks and other equipment.”
Shaye nodded and made a mental note.
“Why would that matter?” Emma asked. “I mean, we’ve agreed that it can’t be David…”
Shaye placed the battery back in the panel and closed it. “No. But it’s probably someone who knew him.”
“Someone who might have the same skill set. I see.”
“Have any of David’s coworkers or military buddies shown up?”
“I was just thinking about that last night, but the answer is no. I’ve only met a handful of people that David knew, so it wasn’t like I was close with any of them. I assumed it was because of the way he died. I mean, what do you say to the widow who killed her husband?”
“Probably not ‘can I have your number’?”
Emma stared at her for a moment, then broke into laughter. She laughed so hard she stumbled backward into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, tears streaming down her face. Shaye stepped out of the closet and closed the door behind her, happy that Emma enjoyed her joke. Eleonore had used the same ploy so many times in therapy when things got difficult for Shaye to handle. This was the first time Shaye had tried it herself.
Emma finally regained control and wiped her eyes with her fingers. “Oh my God. I needed that so badly. I can’t even remember the last time I laughed. I mean really laughed.”
“Have you thought about talking to someone…I mean, about all of this?”
“Yes. And I will.” Emma looked up at her and smiled. “You’re a good person, Shaye. I know my discernment hasn’t been all that great recently, but I’m sure I’m right about you.”
