She marveled at how quickly the boys made up. Friends one minute, enemies the next, then friends again. Such was the nature of childhood, she supposed.
The telephone rang
When she answered, there was a quick hang-up. She saw no caller I.D. listed. Could it be Edward Norris checking to see if she happened to be at home or was she becoming paranoid?
“Who called? Was it Bobby?”
“No, honey, I believe it was a wrong number.” Or so she hoped.
After Aaron changed, Jen drove him over to the Higgins home. Maggie welcomed her. Aaron ran to the backyard to join Bobby and Rufus.
“They need to run around for a while,” Maggie observed. “Want to come in for a cup of coffee?”
“I’ll visit for a while, but I don’t need the coffee. My nerves are edgy as it is.”
Maggie eyed her with sympathy. “I know what you’ve been going through. I heard all about it. We were shocked, couldn’t understand how Mr. Norris behaved like that.”
“I’m still waking up in the middle of the night with nightmares. I’ve been holding it together for Aaron’s sake, but it hasn’t been easy.”
Maggie led her into the kitchen. “I’ve got just the thing. Let me fix you a cup of chamomile tea. It’s very relaxing.”
Jen agreed. Maggie began humming as she worked.
“So how is your friend? Back in New York?”
“She is and I miss her.”
“We could spend more time together,” Maggie stirred her tea and then poured some milk into it. “Of course, I work part-time. I like earning the extra money.”
“Where do you work?”
“You might ask for whom do I work.” Maggie smiled.
“Okay, for whom do you work?”
“Take a guess.”
It dawned on her. “Eric?”
“Yep, the local vet needs help. I come in every morning after the kids are in school. Sometimes I work until it’s time for them to come home. Depends how much help Eric needs. I mostly do the bookkeeping for him. Manage the paperwork. He has several assistants who are good with the animals. That’s not my thing though.”
“I think it’s great that the two of you can work together.”
The boys came into the kitchen. Bobby asked her if Aaron could eat dinner at their house. Jen hesitated. She didn’t want to have dinner alone, but Aaron seemed excited at the prospect. Maggie assured her that she would bring Aaron home early. How could she refuse?
It occurred to her that there was no need to cook dinner, not for one person. She decided to drive over to The Red Pepper and order a calzone, one stuffed with broccoli and cheese, her favorite. The crowd in the Italian restaurant seemed lively and convivial. Certainly it would be more cheerful eating here than alone back at the house.
“I’ll be eating here,” she told the man who took her order.
“Sit down with your order number displayed and we’ll find you when it’s ready.”
She found a small table in the rear corner of the restaurant where she felt unobtrusive and seated herself.
“This spot taken?”
Jen looked up. Her heart fluttered. It always seemed to do so when she came into proximity with Grant Coleman.
“You’re welcome to it.”
“I hope you don’t mind. The place is crowded.”
“I would like your company,” she said. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that. She felt embarrassed by her admission.
He pulled the second chair alongside hers. “I like the gunfighter’s seat. That way I can watch the room. Lawman’s habit I suppose.”
“Do you want to trade seats with me?”
“No, as long as I’m not crowding you.”
He was but she had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of knowing that. The virile, male scent of him wafted through her nostrils disconcerting her.
“So where’s the little guy tonight?”
“Eating dinner with the Higgins family.”
A young waitress arrived with Grant’s pasta order and her calzone as well. Like the waitresses at the local diner, she gave Grant a long, lingering smile. “Anything to drink?”
“Just water for me,” Jen said. The girl didn’t even look in her direction.
“I’ll have coffee,” Grant said.
“Be right back with it.” Her smile held promises.
Jen rolled her eyes. Grant noticed. “She’s a friend of my sister Lori.”
“Lori must have a lot of friends.”
“She does as a matter of fact. So does Sue.”
“I’m sure.” Her tone was dry.
He threw her an amused look.
She took a bite of her calzone, and burned the roof of her mouth.
Fortunately, the waitress arrived with their beverages and she was able to quench the fire.
“Anything else I can get you?” the voice seemed sultry and suggestive.
“We’re fine. Thanks.” Grant looked back at Jen.
She managed a quick nod.
“Anything I should know about?”
Jen thought of the hang up call earlier. “I received a phone call earlier with no one answering. The I.D. said ‘caller unknown’. It probably didn’t mean anything though. I mean lots of people dial wrong numbers.”
Grant viewed her with a thoughtful expression. “True enough. But if it should happen to become a pattern, you will let me know. Agreed?”
“Of course.”
“Incidentally, the attorney general’s office is now investigating The Forrest Foundation. It’s looking pretty much like Forrest has been running a scam, a fake charity. He preys on wealthy, elderly women in particular. They tend to be easy marks.”
“There are so many worthy charities, it’s a shame people like him give them a bad name.”
“The best thing is always to do your homework, research how much of the money given actually goes to the needy and how much for administrative costs. It can be eye-opening.”
They ate in silence for a time. She had to admit that being near Grant Coleman was intoxicating, a heady pleasure. She didn’t really blame those waitresses for flirting with him. A pity she couldn’t relax and enjoy the experience. When she nearly knocked over her water, he caught her hand and righted the glass. Just that very brief touch seemed to electrify her.
“Thank you. I seem to be clumsy today.”
“You’re on edge. It’s understandable. You’ve been through a lot lately. You’re not even fully healed from being shot.”
She lowered her eyes. His kindness was almost her undoing. She began to choke up.
He must have noticed because he took her hand again and held it firmly in his own.
“As you know, we don’t have a large police force here. But I’ll make certain that morning and evening one of us cruises by your house. We’ll keep on the lookout for anyone or anything suspicious.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Good. Maybe that will ease the tension for you. Call us if something seems wrong.”
She gave a nod.
“Promise?”
“Honor bright.”
He laughed. She loved his laugh.
Chapter Fifty
The city felt oppressively hot and humid today. For some reason she found the press of people and the bustle annoying. In the past, Maryann had just taken it for granted.
She stepped around a homeless man who lay sprawled on the sidewalk. That morning in the crowded subway, a group of street musicians had entered, played some noise, and then passed around a hat. People put money in out of pure embarrassment. She thought about Bloomingvale and had to admit there was something to be said for small town living.
Maryann had another interview today. She felt prepared, psyched for it. She didn’t think the ad agency would be quite the right place for her, but this was Big Pharma where she’d worked since graduating from college. William Stoddard had chosen her to intern for him. He’d encouraged her to get her M.B.A. as well. Bill had recommended her for her jo
b in marketing. He’d been more than a great boss. He’d been her mentor. He’d introduced her to Jen who had become her best friend. His death brought Jen and herself even closer together, since they’d shared the terrible loss of such a fine person.
Maryann took her cell phone out of her suit jacket pocket and pressed Jen’s number. She felt a sudden need to talk to her friend. There would be a time difference, but she knew Jen was usually an early riser like herself.
Jen answered on the third ring.
“Hope I didn’t wake you up.”
“Of course not. I’m just fixing breakfast for Aaron. I’m so glad you called. I’ve been missing you.”
“Same here.” She swallowed a lump in her throat.
“I don’t know if you want to hear this or not, but Rob Coleman’s been asking for you. I believe he still cares for you.”
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t seem to find her voice.
“Maryann, are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here. I’ve got another interview this morning.”
“That’s good. You’ll kill it.”
“Maybe. I hope so.”
“You’ll let me know how it goes?”
“I’ll be in touch shortly.”
With some effort, she broke the connection.
Jen decided that she would tackle the attic again this morning. This time she would organize everything there. Get rid of the clutter. See what appeared to be of value, sentimental and otherwise. Maryann had been helpful but there was so much else that needed to be examined.
She took her dusting brush and a roll of paper towels with her. No sense bothering Linda to do everything. She felt perfectly capable of handling some of the cleaning herself. Jen picked up a flashlight and took that with her as well. The overhead lights in the attic didn’t light up every nook and cranny.
In the attic, she shut the fan and opened one large window. There didn’t happen to be a screen on it, but she’d rather endure a few insects than the closed air that brought with it the scent of must and old decaying things. A welcome breeze blew through the window relieving the stifling heat.
Jen glanced around. She focused her flashlight in a dark corner and was rewarded with the sight of a trunk she hadn’t noticed before. The floorboards creaked as she approached. Objects in the trunk had been carefully sequestered. Folded in yellowed sheeting she found a man’s military uniform. Not a recent uniform. In fact, it looked to be a Union officer’s clothing from the Civil War period. She found a photo, a very old one. The man in the photo wore what she thought appeared to be the uniform in the trunk. She looked further and located a packet of letters. The letters were from a Colonel Charles Pritchard to his wife Amelia. Jen would read them when she could. The writing was faded and the yellowed paper itself fragile. She handled them with utmost delicacy. Digging down further, she located something heavy. What could it be?
She lifted the wrapped object out of the trunk with some effort. Uncovering the cloth, she could see it was a scabbard and inside of that was a sword. The hilt was black. She brought it over to the window to get a better look. The hilt was made of solid silver which had oxidized. She would clean it. Carefully she removed the sword from the scabbard and viewed the blade. It had been forged from steel. It must have been part of Charles Pritchard’s dress uniform. How lovely it would be to display these things. They were part of American history, certainly part of her family history. Aaron would be so excited. What an amazing find! She would leave it in front of the trunk for the time being and show it to Aaron later today, but warn him not to touch the blade itself.
Jen looked around some more and located more clothing from other eras, although nothing as impressive as the wedding dress she and Maryann had previously found. A Tiffany lamp with a crack in the shade interested her. She wondered if such an object could be restored. Soon it became too hot to continue working in the attic. She put the attic fan on again after she dusted, removed some debris and went back downstairs where it felt much cooler. She felt jazzed about her unexpected finds.
Jen decided to take the Civil War letters of Charles Pritchard out to the backyard and sit in the shade to read them where the light seemed best. She settled herself on the chaise under a large oak tree, excited and eager to examine the letters.
She could not completely decipher his words, but what she could read convinced Jen the letters had historical significance. Charles spoke of skirmishes as well as famous battles. However, the warmth of the day and her physical efforts in the attic had tired her. Soon her eyelids were drooping.
Jen came awake with a start. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep but the letters she’d been reading were on the ground. A shadow fell across her. She blinked, looked up at a man in a black ski mask, and started to scream. A gloved hand smothered the sound. The man, dressed all in black clothing, presented a sinister image like a ninja in an action move, except this was no film, but instead real life horror.
A hand painfully gripped her arm forcing her to her feet. She felt something metallic shoved into her side.
“Don’t try to speak or I’ll shoot you here. Do you understand?” The voice insinuated itself into her ear.
When she didn’t respond, the man pushed his weapon harder. She cringed in pain and nodded.
“All right. That’s better. We’re going into the house now.” He removed his hand from her mouth.
“There’s a camera. They’ll know you’re here. They’ll see you and send someone.”
He laughed, an ugly sound that chilled her to the marrow in spite of the heat of the day.
“I’m not stupid. I took care of disabling the camera during the night. I’ve been watching you through binoculars from the woods. I see you come and sit out here every day. So predictable. So stupid.”
Jen had been foolish, she realized. The back of the house had woodland behind it and no direct neighbors. No one could see what was happening. The house had a lot of privacy. That had its benefits. But at the moment it proved a detriment. The hedges were high and the neighbors weren’t close on either side. The Pritchard house had land, maybe too much of it.
The intruder forced her in through the back of the house up the side stairs into the kitchen area. He pulled off his mask and Jen found herself staring into the face of Edward Norris.
“If you try to kill me again, they’ll know you’re responsible.”
He laughed. “No they won’t. It will look like a burglar entered and murdered you. This weapon can’t be traced. I’m wearing gloves. No fingerprints.”
“No alibi.”
“Wrong. My wife will testify I worked in my study all morning. I left through a rear window and will return the same say.”
“It doesn’t matter. Chief Coleman will know. He’ll be relentless.”
Norris gave her a smug look. “He won’t be able to prove anything. My lawyer explained you’re the only witness who can testify I tried to kill you. With you dead, there’s no case. And the charities will receive what remains from your grandmother’s estate. I’ll make some restitution and be out of jail in a year or two. Maybe I won’t serve any prison time at all. My lawyer is excellent. Worth every cent I’ll be forced to pay the bloodsucker.”
Norris, wild-eyed and red-faced, frightened her. Jen’s mouth felt dry. How could she deal with this mentally unbalanced man? He would shoot her in moments. She must think of something to stop him. But what?
Desperate, she glanced around. He threw her a knowing look. “No one can save you.” He raised the gun he held. “You’ll die, just like the old lady did.”
“You murdered my grandmother?”
“She proved easier to kill than you have. All I had to do was visit her room in the middle of the night and press a pillow over her face.”
“You’re a monster!”
He bared his teeth. “My uncle said she was feeling better, asking for an accounting of her assets and investments. Of course, she had to die. And so will you.”
Jen y
anked her arm free of his grasp. Looking down at the kitchen table, she saw the glass of orange juice left over from breakfast that morning. She grasped it in her hand and threw it into his eyes. Then she snatched up her cell phone and ran.
Norris gasped. Caught off-guard for a moment, he rubbed the juice from his eyes. Jen was already running toward the stairs. She wanted to get to her room and lock the door so she could phone the police. Thankfully, she had her cell phone in hand. A land line was also located in her bedroom. Unfortunately, Norris was quick. He tried to grasp her arm again.
Jen was alert now and able to move out of his vicinity, running up the stairs with speed released by an adrenalin rush. Norris got off a shot which went wild and hit the wall behind her. Butterflies screamed in her stomach. Jen was frantic. She realized if she went to her bedroom he would be able to shoot her in the back before she could even enter. She needed some advantage or she would be dead in moments.
She kept on running. There might be a way. A slim chance. But even a slim chance would be better than none. She ran to the stairs which led to the attic. He’d gotten off another shot by then. Thank God his aim at a moving target wasn’t all that good. She wouldn’t stop, would not give him an opportunity to kill her easily.
Jen made it into the attic, her chest heaving, near collapse, barely able to draw another breath. The door didn’t have a lock. Still, she did manage to shove a heavy chest against it. She tried to dial 911, but the door came crashing open before she could complete the call. She hid in the darkest corner by the chest where she’d found the Civil War memorabilia.
“Come out! You can’t escape.”
Jen opened the scabbard and removed the sword. It wasn’t easy because her palms were sweating so. She could barely grip the hilt even using both hands. God, it was so heavy!
Grant sat at his desk writing yet another annoying report. His telephone rang and he admitted to himself that he felt glad for the interruption.
“Coleman here.”
“Yeah, Grant, this is your favorite brother.”
“And my only brother.” Grant smiled.
“Right. Now that we’ve handled the pleasantries, I want to mention something to you.”
The Inheritance Page 18
