“Walked through the open front door.”
Emma frowned. “The front door was open?”
“Wide open—I figured open windows were no longer enough; now you’ve gone to opening doors to cool off.”
Emma shook her head. “I didn’t open the door—I haven’t been out of the house this afternoon.”
Sam shoved his hat to the back of his head and frowned. “Maybe it’s one of those spooks next door. Anyway, I wanted to tell you I called Ned. He’ll get things moving on the abstract.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.” She studied him, silently acknowledging what a good friend he could be. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. And on Christmas Day.”
“You were upset. I hadn’t had time to tell you about the new offer from Wellman’s company. Guess I don’t have to now. You made your point pretty clear.” His gaze skimmed her appreciatively. “What’s that you’re wearing? Looks great on you.”
Her cheeks turned pink. Two moth-eaten sweaters, camouflage hunting pants, and a ball cap? Did he have to point that out? Somehow he always found her looking like a rag bin. She gave him an I-don’t-want-to-hear-it look. “While you’re here, can you help me with this trunk?”
He grasped hold of the ladder and climbed up into the attic, his eyes scanning the mounds of boxes. “What are you going to do with all of this stuff?”
“Give it away, throw it away, and take a few things back to Seattle with me.” Frowning, she picked up a medium-size box. It was heavy; bound with masking tape, and marked EMMA. Suddenly, Emma asked, “You didn’t box up Lully’s jewelry-making stuff, did you?”
“No. Why?”
“Because someone did. There’re four boxes over there all containing her jewelry paraphernalia.”
“You didn’t clear it out of the house?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Strange.”
“Real strange.” Her front teeth worried her lower lip as she studied the box with her name on it. Family trinkets? Some of her old clothes left from childhood? “I found Lully’s journal. She knew she had a heart condition. So did Ray. Maybe—maybe in those last days she didn’t feel like working so …” She paused, not wanting to think about Lully growing weaker every day.
“I’m sorry she didn’t let anyone know she was ill.”
“She didn’t want me to know, didn’t want me to be here to see her like that.”
Emma blinked away the burn of tears. She looked at the box she was holding. What had Lully left that she thought necessary for Emma to keep? Lully was a pack rat. She kept everything from old records, which were surely collectors’ items by now, to camping equipment, to Dad’s old set of wooden golf clubs, Grandma’s old dishes, a garden plow, and a galvanized washtub. Nothing had been thrown away in thirty years.
Emma struggled to rip the tape off the box. Sam calmly took out his pocketknife and neatly cut across the binding. “Thanks,” she said.
“My pleasure.” Their eyes met and held for a long moment. Emma finally looked away for fear he’d hear her heart hammering its way out of her chest.
Emma carefully folded back the cardboard flaps, and her jaw dropped open. Money. Piles and piles of neatly banded hundred-dollar bills lay in the box that had once held a dozen bottles of Palmolive dishwashing liquid.
Sam let out a low whistle. “There must be hundreds of thousands of dollars here.”
Emma looked up, eyes stricken. “Who does it belong to?”
“The box says Emma, doesn’t it?”
“But it couldn’t be for me—we’ve never had this kind of money. Lully and I nearly starved the years we were together.”
Sam reached into the box and lifted out a stack of money. Emma had never seen that much money in her life—not even at the bank when she made deposits. He put the money back, then withdrew a small piece of white paper and handed it to Emma.
Emma read it out loud:
Dear Emma—
If you’re reading this, then you know it’s too late for me to say this in person. I love you, dear sister. And I am so sorry we wasted all those years when we could have been close and loving and a real support for one another. I don’t blame either one of us-emotional baggage will drag a person down every time. I hope you’ll get rid of your baggage; life is way too short to live in pain.
I believe we make our own bad luck by simply not trusting in God. Faith. That’s the answer, Emma. Have faith, and everything will fall into place, as it should. As I feel myself getting weaker, I realize more and more that God has a plan for our lives. We weren’t put here to just fill space, and when our time is up, it’s over. Nothing we do will change that. So we need to walk in faith even when the road is darkest.
The money is my legacy to you. I hope it brings you great happiness. It’s from my jewelry business—I must admit my happiness came from making the jewelry, sharing beauty with others. The money meant nothing. I have lived a frugal life. I liked it that way. No fuss. The other legacy, if you haven’t figured out by now, is Sam. Don’t let him get away again. I will see you on the other side, little sister. And we’ll be a real family this time, I promise.
Your loving sister, Lully
P.S. The password to my files is simple: Emma.
Tears streamed down Emma’s cheeks as she looked deep into Sam’s eyes. “Oh my, you’ve got to love that woman,” she whispered.
Sam was in the back room of the office, going through a box of old files, when he heard the phone jingle. Ken picked it up. “Sheriff’s office.”
“What are you up to this morning, Lloyd?” A moment later, Ken called out, “Sam? Lloyd Smith wants to talk to you.”
Sam emerged from the back room carrying a box of files he set on Ken’s desk. “Go through these and see if there’s anything there we need to keep.” Picking up the receiver, Sam said, “Yo, Lloyd. What’s happening?”
“Got a little piece of news I thought you might be interested in. About the snake.”
“The one we found in Emma’s house?” Sam pulled up a chair and sat down.
“The same. The mayor’s boy was in this morning—I told you Buddy Crane bought a boa a few weeks back?”
“Yeah.”
“Buddy was in about an hour ago. We got to talking and I asked him how the snake was doing. He said his mother made him sell it. He browsed the store an hour before he bought a parakeet and a cage. I was ringing up the sale and teasing him a little—you know, like how did you like having to give up your snake, and Buddy wasn’t laughing—seemed kinda nervous, actually.
“Well, you know me, I never shut up. Got to querying him a little more and how his folks must be real relieved not having it around? You know Ms. Crane—she’s squeamish about those slugs on the walk at night, always out on her front porch with a box of Morton salt, knocking the poor critters off one by one. Mass murder.”
Sam chuckled. “I’ve seen her.”
“Well, anyway, the more I talked, the more Buddy squirmed until he finally blurted out that he didn’t sell the snake, he let it loose.”
“‘Don’t have the snake anymore?’ I sez. ‘Where in the world is it? A snake that size is mighty hard to overlook.’ Well, then Buddy gets this real sheepish look on his face and admits the snake got hold of him one night and scared the stuffing right out of him. Early the next morning, he got it into a tow sack and drug it to the cemetery and let it loose. Then he admitted he ran like the devil himself was chasing him.”
Sam sat up straighter. “He told me he sold it.”
“Well he was lying. That boa musta been wandering through those tombstones for a while before it somehow got into Emma’s kitchen. This time of year critters are looking for warmth, and you know that old Mansi house is loose as a goose. Coulda crawled in anywhere.”
“Thanks, Lloyd. I’ll check into it.”
“Sure thing. Thought you’d want to know.”
Sam hung up, sitting for a moment to let the news digest. The snake was accounted for, but what about the spid
ers? Emma hinted the other day—teasingly, but he had taken it seriously—that she thought he might be trying to run her out of town. The accusation stung. The only thing Sam Gold was guilty of was loving Emma Mansi. If it weren’t for Lully’s death, chances are he would never have seen Emma again. He raked his fingers through his thick hair. If she didn’t love him, how was he going to live with that knowledge? He loved her too much to live in this town day after day, seeing her … hearing her laughter. If she kept the house and turned it into that tearoom, she would eventually move back. He knew Emma. She was going to ask her friend Janice to come to Serenity and run the shop. If Janice were here, she would eventually convince Emma to move back to Serenity. That’s when Sam would leave. He’d resign as town sheriff and move farther north. Wyoming, Montana—anywhere but Serenity, where he would be forced to see her frequently knowing that she didn’t love him.
But what if somebody was trying to run Emma out of town. Too many suspects wanted the Mansi property for various reasons: municipal parking lot, land speculation, even for a historical monument—the Veterans of Foreign Wars were talking about wanting the house for a bingo hall. But no one, he thought, would terrorize Emma to get the house, and yet strange things continued to happen.
“Should burn the eyesore to the ground and be done with it.” Sam slammed his hand on the desk and got up.
Ken glanced up from the box of files. “What’s wrong now?”
“Buddy Crane didn’t sell his snake; he turned that boa loose in the cemetery. Got scared of it and let it go.”
“I wondered who in their sane mind would want a snake that size. It must have been looking for warmth when it got into Emma’s house.”
Burying his face in his hands, Sam released a breath of frustration. “I’ll go tell Emma.”
“The news should make her feel better—or maybe not. She won’t sleep a wink from now on, thinking about critters crawling into her house.”
“Maybe she shouldn’t.” Sam reached for his hat. “The boa presence has been explained, but that still leaves the other incidents.”
Ken shook his head. “Serenity hasn’t had so much excitement since Helen Bennett got her hand caught in that wringer washing machine.”
Sam left the office, slamming the door behind him.
Winter’s coming; I can feel it in the air. I can smell the pungent scent of burning leaves. On days I feel up to it, I take short walks to the end of the drive to see the pumpkins in the far fields. They look so round and fat and golden sitting in the sun. I wish you could have known this side of Serenity, Emma. You would find peace here, as I have. The colorful leaves surround the tombstones and the whole area reminds me of Joseph’s coat—so colorful, so beautiful. Today, everything looks so beautiful, so surreal. I know soon I will meet Ezra Mott, Emma, and I’m so excited—
Emma whirled when she heard the back screen door open and close softly. Frowning, she laid Lully’s journal aside and quietly stood up. Ray? She didn’t call out. No one had permission to enter the house without her knowledge.
Perhaps it was the wind. A bitter wind blew from the north, rattling January tree branches.
Creeping out of the bedroom, she walked softly along the carpeted hallway until she reached the top of the stairs. She peered over the railing, staring into the foyer. Footsteps shuffled softly through the parlor, but she couldn’t see the intruder.
Putting her foot on the first step, she eased down. One step. Then another. Fear rose to the back of her throat. Should she go back to the bedroom and call Sam? If he wasn’t there, Ken could come—
Someone was in the kitchen now. She could hear noises—faint … croaks?
She stepped down two more stairs. She was still too high to see the kitchen door.
Croak. Croak. Croak.
Bullfrogs.
Someone was putting bullfrogs in her kitchen.
Steam rose from the top of her head, and she forgot common sense. Bolting down the rest of the stairs, she snatched a heavy umbrella from the stand and burst into the kitchen swinging.
Frogs—at least twenty of them—sprang about on the linoleum. Croak, crooak, crooooak. Their bulbous throats ballooned. Screaming, she hopped back as one of the slimy reptiles sprang at her.
A movement caught her eye. Distracted now, she focused on the intruder at the back door. “Ray!”
Ray tried to pull the door open, fear flooding his face. His childlike wails filled the kitchen. Emma pitched the umbrella aside and tried to comfort him.
“It’s all right, Ray …” Her thoughts were mindless, disjointed nothings. Frogs hopped all over the kitchen counter, the table, the stove, the top of the refrigerator.
“No! Ray’s scared!”
“Ray, come here!”
He bolted out of the kitchen, openly terrified, sobbing as he dashed through the front parlor, into the foyer, and out the front door. Sam was coming up the walk. He jumped and sprang aside to keep from being hit.
Emma bounded out of the house and down the steps. “Stop him!” she shouted.
Sam turned and started down the lane in pursuit of the simpleminded man.
Donny Coleman’s Camero rounded the corner on two wheels, peeling rubber on the asphalt. The car raced closer, Donny gunning the accelerator and laughing at the boys in the backseat.
“Ray!” Emma screamed when she saw what was about to happen.
“Ray!” Sam bellowed. “Stop!”
Sobbing, Ray raced on blindly. When he came to the end of the lane he kept running, straight into the Camero’s path. The car hit him, throwing him up over the windshield, his body glancing to the left side.
Tires squealed as Donny stood on the brakes; the sports car slid for two hundred feet before coming to a stop. The gangly youth crawled out from behind the wheel, his face ashen.
Emma raced down the lane. Tears streamed down her face as she gently lifted Ray’s head and cradled it. “Why didn’t you stop—we called to you.” A sob caught in her throat. Blood covered Ray’s face, and his left arm rested at a grotesque angle.
“Don’t be mad at Ray,” he murmured.
Emma hugged him tightly, feeling a strong bond. Lully had loved this simple, childlike man. He had been her friend. But why? Why had Ray tried to scare her out of her house?
Emma held him tighter as tears rolled down her cheeks. Sam was on his two-way radio, calling for an ambulance.
Ray opened his eyes and met Emma’s. “I did it for Lully. Didn’t want anyone to take Lully’s things.” His eyes widened with sincerity. “Lully’s good. Lully loves me. I protect Lully.”
“Oh, Ray.” Emma’s heart sank. “It’s been you doing these things? You put the spiders and snake—”
“No snake!” Ray shook his head violently. “Snakes scare me. Ray never hurt you—never hurt you. You’re Lully’s sister. I never treat Lully like others do. Don’t want you to sell Lully’s house—she’ll be gone forever if you do.” Blood gushed from his nose. In the distance a siren wailed. “You can have Lully’s money—she wanted you to have it. It’s in a box …” His voice faded as he began to lose consciousness. “All of it … didn’t want you to sell Lully’s house.”
Emma glanced at Sam through a veil of tears. “Oh, Sam … Ray’s been the one—”
Sam rested his hand on her shoulder as she cradled the injured man. Emma felt strength, love, and grief through Sam’s gentle contact. “I haven’t wanted to alarm you, but I had my suspicions that he was involved in the pranks in some way. During my investigation, I started thinking about Ray and Lully and his devotion to her.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I had no proof, Emma. Ray is … a child. I didn’t feel you were ever in any real danger, and until I could get concrete proof regarding his involvement, I had nothing to go on. But it all makes sense now. Ray’s loyalty to Lully has no end. In his mind, he can’t stand to see any part of Lully disturbed, the house included. I first began to suspect him when those pigs appeared in your
kitchen.”
“I still don’t know how he did that.”
“Ray is good friends with Joe Stills—one of the largest pig farmers in this area. After the incident, I checked with Joe, and he said two of his best sows were missing that morning for a few hours. I don’t know how Ray managed to do it, but I know without a doubt he was the culprit. I just couldn’t prove it.”
Emma shook her head. “I knew, in his way, he loved my sister, but such childish pranks …”
“He is a child.” Sam’s hold on her shoulder tightened.
The ambulance arrived. Emma insisted on riding with Ray to the hospital. The injured man was whisked into the emergency room; a team of doctors and nurses inserted IVs and put an oxygen mask over the little man’s face. Ray’s injuries were grave—so grave the doctor told Sam and Emma if they were praying people, they’d better start right now. They sat in the waiting room, holding hands, praying for Ray’s recovery.
Late that afternoon Ray was moved out of intensive care. His injuries were serious, but he would recover. Emma stayed with him throughout the long day. Ray opened his eyes once and smiled at her. Lully had been fortunate enough to see through the simple, naive mind to a deeper, more profound man who had captured her heart. She covered his hand, careful not to disturb the IV tubes, and cried like a baby.
“I hid Lully’s money so no one would find it,” Ray whispered, his fingers closing over Emma’s tightly. “In a box—I took good care of it for you.”
“Thank you, Ray.” She needed to tell him that she had found it, but there was so much more she wanted to thank him for. “Thank you for taking care of Lully. You were the only family she had.”
A smile formed on his features. “We had each other. And God. He began to sing softly, “Jesus loves the little children … Lully taught me all about God and how he loves me. I was hoping I’d get to go be with God and Lully.” His eyes fluttered closed. “But I guess God doesn’t want me yet. For the first time in my life, I was going to be like everybody else.” His eyes fluttered open. “I’m sorry about the frogs. I wanted to scare away whoever wanted to buy the house.”
Lori Copeland Page 24
