by Jessica Beck
My cell phone laughed at me, and I saw my mother was calling. Before I answered it, Grace said, “I thought you were going to change that ringtone to something normal.”
“I was, but I’ve kind of gotten used it.” I opened the phone and said, “Hi, Momma, what’s up?”
She nearly screamed at me, “Suzanne Hart, have you completely lost your mind?”
“Probably. Why do you ask?”
She said, “I just got off the phone with Marge Rankin, and the poor woman was in tears. What did you do to her?”
“I just asked her a few innocent questions,” I said.
I saw Grace’s eyebrows go up at that, and I frowned at her.
A bit mollified, Momma said, “That’s not the way I heard it.”
“Who are you going to believe, Marge or your own daughter?”
She paused way too long for my taste.
I said, “I’m waiting.”
“I’m thinking,” my mother said.
“When you figure it out, give me a call back,” I said as I hung up on her.
Grace said, “Oh, you’re in trouble now.”
“I’m a little too old to be grounded,” I said. “She’s just going to have to deal with it.”
“I admire you. Your mother scares the pants off me. She always has.”
“That’s because you let her,” I said.
“So, all of the drama aside, what do we do next?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” I said. “Let me get back to you on that. In the meantime, why don’t we just drive around until something comes to us?”
Grace kept looking at her watch, and I finally asked, “Is there somewhere you need to be?”
“I’ve kind of got a dinner date, but I can cancel it if you need me.”
I said, “Pull over.”
We were a block from the donut shop, and she did as I asked.
I got out of the car and said, “Have you lost your mind? If you’ve found someone crazy enough to ask you out, you should go.”
“That’s kind of what I was thinking,” she said with a smile.
“Who is it? Anybody I know?”
“No, he lives in Union Square. I’m meeting him at Napoli’s for dinner.”
She knew that was where Jake and I had gone when we’d eaten out on those rare times he was in town. No wonder she hadn’t wanted to say anything to me about her plans.
“Go on, then, get out of here,” I said. “Don’t be late on my account. Have fun, okay?”
“I’ll try. Call me if anything comes up, I mean it.”
“I will,” I promised as I watched her drive away.
At least one of us had a social life. I wondered what Jake was doing for dinner. No doubt he was having takeout at police headquarters as he caught up on any progress Chief Martin had made in his absence. I couldn’t imagine the file being very thick, but then again, I didn’t have a great deal of faith in our fair chief.
As I walked past Two Cows and a Moose, I decided to pop inside. The three stuffed animals the newsstand had been named for were on their shelf of honor above the register, and I saw that they were each decked out in Halloween costumes. Cow had a vampire cape on, Spots was wearing a cowboy outfit, and Moose had on a superhero ensemble. Emily Hargraves had taught me early on that the way to tell the difference between the two cows was the green ribbon tied to Spots’s tail.
Emily, the pretty young brunette who owned the place, saw me admiring her stuffed friends. “They look positively resplendent, don’t they?”
I nodded. “Where did you find costumes that fit them?”
She smiled. “I have a sewing machine and an imagination. What more do I need?”
“I’d need someone to use them both,” I said. “Do you have the latest issues of Ellery Queen and Alfred Hitchcock mystery magazines?”
Emily went to a rack and grabbed one of each. “Sure thing. Can I get you anything else?”
I shook my head as I paid for the magazines. As Emily handed me my change, she said, “I’m so sorry about what happened. Why on earth someone would take something as full of joy as a donut and turn it into a bad thing is beyond me. It’s just not fair.”
I nodded. “You’re preaching to the choir.”
As I was leaving, I saluted the stuffed animals and said, “Happy Halloween.”
I half-expected them to respond, but they kept their vigilant watch over the place, never shirking their duties.
I got into the Jeep, and as I drove home, I realized that my mother hadn’t called me back after I’d hung up on her. That meant she was still angry that I’d cut her off so abruptly, and I debated about whether to go back home at all.
But I’d have to face her sooner or later, so I realized that I might as well get it over with.
At least there’d be food there, and I was starving.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” my mother told me as I walked in the door. I looked at her, searching for some clue about her mood, but from the way she was acting, it was clear she’d decided to ignore our previous exchange.
That was fine with me. I’d had enough drama today to last me a while.
“It smells great,” I said. “Lemon chicken?”
She nodded. “With mashed potatoes, green beans, homemade cranberry sauce, and cherry pie for dessert.”
“Wow, I feel like a queen. When did you have time to make pie, too?”
“I’ve been home cooking all day,” she admitted.
“Just for the two of us?” It wasn’t odd for my mother to cook elaborate meals for both of us, but this was a little over the top.
“I thought Jake might join us,” she said. “Is there any chance you could call him and issue an invitation?”
“Sorry, Momma, he’s busy,” I said. “Do I still get to eat?”
“Of course you do. Set the table, and we’ll go ahead.”
I washed my hands first, then set the table for two. So that was why my mother had gone into “extreme cooking” mode.
As we sat down to eat, I realized just how hungry I was.
As I piled my plate up with food, Momma said, “Maybe it’s just as well Jake couldn’t make it. You eat like a lumberjack sometimes, Suzanne.”
“I’ve got the appetite of one,” I said. “Besides, Jake’s already seen me eat. He likes the fact that I don’t pick at my food.”
She could tell that I was in no mood for her verbal jabs, and after our truncated telephone conversation, I realized she was a little touchy, too. We dropped the sparring, and I was surprised to find myself enjoying her company as much as the meal. My mother could be charming when she set her mind to it. Of course, I’d heard her say the same thing about me. Maybe it was true about the apple not falling far from the tree.
I was ready for bed, and reached for my telephone to turn it off when it laughed in my hands. It was Jake.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?” he asked.
“It’s not even eight o’clock,” I said. “I’m still awake.”
“For how much longer, though? You’re ready for bed, aren’t you?”
I looked out the window. “Why? Are you outside watching me?”
“No, but that’s why I called. Why didn’t you tell me there was a prowler outside your house last night?”
He was upset; I could hear it in his voice.
“There was nothing you could do about it, Jake. You were in Raleigh. I handled it,” I said.
“I heard you called George, and then the police,” he said. “You weren’t crazy enough to go outside yourself, were you? I don’t care if you do have a baseball bat, it’s no protection against someone out to get you.”
“I’m happy with it,” I said. “I don’t like guns, and it seems a little odd if I carry a sword around with me.”
I put the phone down for a second and stared outside. Had I heard a twig snapping, or had it been my imagination? I was the first to admit that my senses were on overdrive, looking for possible danger where it might not exist. But
I also knew that the woods made their own noises at night, and a lot of it, particularly in the silence of the evening, when the rest of the world was settling down.
Try as I might to see into the shadows though, I couldn’t spot anything untoward.
I heard Jake talking loudly as I put the telephone back to my ear. “. . . coming over right now!”
“What? Why would you do that?”
He said, “Suzanne, what’s going on? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I heard a squirrel out in the park, and I immediately envisioned a prowler lurking in the shadows.”
“Is that what happened last night?” he asked.
“No, that was probably just a jogger bending over to tie his shoe. My imagination’s getting the better of me lately; I’m the first to admit it.”
“I’m coming over, anyway,” he said.
“Jake, it’s nothing, trust me. Besides, I need to get some sleep if I’m going to be up in five hours.”
“You don’t have to invite me in and entertain me, Suzanne. I’ll come over, look around, and make sure everything’s okay. You won’t even know I’m there.”
“You don’t have to do this,” I repeated.
“I know I don’t have to. But I want to.”
He hung up, and I walked downstairs to tell Momma not to worry if she saw a flashlight in the park.
She was watching a television program, something that she rarely did.
As she looked up at me, Momma almost appeared to look guilty. “I just turned it on,” she said.
After a second, she asked, “What are you doing up, anyway? Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
I nodded as I double-checked the locks on the front door and the windows, to be sure they were all secured.
“Jake’s coming over,” I said.
“So you’re making sure he can’t get in? Suzanne, I’ve heard of playing hard to get, but you’re taking it to entirely new levels.”
“He’s not coming for a visit. I made the mistake of telling him I heard a squirrel in the park, and now he’s going to rush over to check.”
“So, we should get something ready for him. How about some of that cherry pie? I think there’s some vanilla ice cream in the freezer, and I can make some coffee, too.”
She started to get up when I said, “Momma, sit down. Jake’s not coming in, so there’s no need to make him a snack. He’s going to look around outside, and then he’s going home. Period, that’s it, no visiting, no conversation.”
“That sounds harsh,” she said.
“I can’t let him in even if I didn’t need to get some sleep. I forgot his flowers at the donut shop.”
That certainly got her attention. “He sent you flowers? What kind?”
“Roses, a dozen of them,” I admitted.
“And you just left them at Donut Hearts?”
I nodded. “They really brighten the place up, but I don’t know how to tell that to Jake. I bet he was expecting me to bring them home.”
“As well he should,” my mother said. “Now, shouldn’t you be getting off to bed?”
Why was she rushing me all of a sudden? Then I knew. “I’m not asking him in, and don’t you invite him, either.”
“Suzanne Louise Hart, this is still my home. I can invite whomever I’d like into it, and there’s not a thing you can do about it.”
I shook my head. “Okay, let’s back up a second. You’re right, you can have him in if you’d like. I’m just asking you not to. It’s late, and fast getting to be past my bedtime. I need my sleep, so it’s a lot easier all the way around if we don’t invite him in for dessert.”
I started for the stairs, and she said, “Of course I wouldn’t have anyone in you didn’t approve of.”
“Momma, I don’t approve or disapprove at this very moment. I just want to go to bed.”
“Understood,” she said.
I walked upstairs, then listened carefully, and heard the sound of the TV show coming back on. I stayed outside my door for a few seconds, trying to figure out what on earth she was watching, but to no avail.
I went back into my bedroom and turned off the lights. I meant to get to sleep, but I found I couldn’t do it, not with Jake out there trying to protect me. After a few minutes of searching out my window, I saw his flashlight bobbing up and down in the darkness. He checked every tree and bush within two hundred yards of my house, then approached the front porch. As he neared the front steps, his flashlight caught me fully in the face up in my window.
“What are you still doing up?” he asked.
“I was watching to be sure you were safe.”
“I looked all over, but I didn’t see anybody.”
“See,” I told him. “It was all in my head. It was probably just been a squirrel after all.”
“That’s not entirely true, either. Come downstairs and let me in. We need to talk.”
I grabbed a robe and hurried down the stairs. He hadn’t been joking; that much was clear. So what had Jake found?
When she saw me, Momma said, “For goodness’ sake, Suzanne, make up your mind,” as she shut off the television. She had been watching something again, and from a single glance, I could see that it had been repeats of a British comedy—As Time Goes By—we’d both watched a few times. Jean and Lionel were her favorite couple on television, and I had to admit, the times I’d watched, I’d enjoyed their adventures as well.
I opened the door, and Jake stepped inside.
My mother looked thrilled. “Jake, how lovely to see you. We were just talking about you. Would you like some pie?”
“No thanks,” he said.
Jake turned to me and said, “I called Chief Martin. He’ll be right here.”
“What’s this all about?” I asked as Momma said, “I’ll make coffee.”
Jake said, “Somebody’s been watching your place after all. It wasn’t your imagination.”
“Did you see someone, too?”
“No, but I saw where he was standing.”
“Take me out there,” I said.
“We’d better wait for the chief.”
“Feel free to,” I said as I got my dad’s old flashlight out of the hall closet, a huge black steel monster that would club a grizzly. “I’m going out to see for myself.”
He followed me outside, and as I started for the trees, Jake said, “I’m not telling you what I found, or where it was.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “I watched your flashlight bobbing in the dark. I’ve got a pretty good idea where you were.”
As I approached a dense blue spruce, he said, “Stop right there.”
“Getting warmer, am I?”
“You’re about to contaminate a crime scene,” he said.
I stopped dead. “There’s not a body under there, is there?”
“No, but there might be a clue about who is watching you, and that might mean a murderer’s been in there.”
I was about to try to get a look anyway when Chief Martin drove up to the house, and after a moment, he joined us by the tree.
He looked at me and said, “What are you doing out here?”
“Is there any chance you’d believe me if I said that I was just out taking my nightly stroll?”
“Dressed like that? I doubt it.”
“You caught me,” I said, grinning as I held my wrists out to him. “I was peeping on my own house.”
Martin shook his head and turned to Jake. “What’s this about?”
“Over here.” He pulled a couple of branches of the tree up, and used his flashlight to illuminate the ground.
He led us around the tree, where I saw a freshly cut branch. “Whoever was in there cut this branch to get a better view of the house.”
“Have you checked it out?” the chief asked.
“No, sir. I was waiting for you.”
Martin nodded, then studied the needles shed underneath the tree. “We won’t get any footprints there.” Taking out an evidence bag, he disappe
ared into the heart of the tree, and after a few moments, came back out.
“You should take a look,” he said.
I started to duck under the branches when I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Not you. I was talking to Jake.”
Jake ducked in before I could protest, and after a minute, he reappeared. “Chief, she should see this, too.”
“Why?” he asked gruffly.
“Because she has a right to know.”
“What is it?” I asked. “You two are scaring me.”
Jake looked at the chief, who nodded after a moment’s thought. “Go ahead.”
I ducked under the branches before he could change his mind, and found that someone had built a little nest in there. It was tight, and whoever had done it hadn’t been claustrophobic, but I couldn’t see much more than that.
“What am I supposed to be looking at?” I asked.
“Sit down on the ground, and then look toward your house.”
I did as Jake instructed, and was surprised to find that the missing branch had afforded the perfect view of my house. Worse yet, my window was perfectly framed in the brushy opening.
Someone wasn’t just watching my house.
They were watching me.
I crawled back out from under the tree, then said, “Okay, now I’m scared.”
“I told you it was a bad idea to tell her,” the chief told Jake.
“No, I’d rather know what I’m dealing with,” I said. “It’s the unknown that’s the scariest of all.”
Momma came out and joined us.
“Phillip,” she said as she saw the chief. “What are all doing standing out here? I’ve got fresh coffee, and there’s enough pie for everyone.”
“Thanks, but we’ve got more to do here,” the chief said. “Someone’s been watching your place, Dorothy.”
My mother bit her lower lip, then said, “And I’m sure you two will find him. In the meantime, I’ll bring you your coffee out here. Come along, Suzanne, you can give me a hand.”
“Thanks, but I’m staying right here,” I said.
“Nonsense. You aren’t going to miss anything. Will she, Phillip?”
“No, ma’am. We’ll take a few photographs, but there’s really not much else we can do. I’ll have two of my men canvass the park again, but I doubt we’ll be able to come up with anything. Whoever did this wasn’t a professional.”
