She closed the drawer firmly. Irritation burned in her, urging her to confront her mother about this invasion of her privacy.
She fought back the indignation. Did she really want to open that subject with her mother? And did she want to deal with the inevitable consequences of a scene with her mother?
Better to do what she always did. Better to swallow her annoyance, put on a pleasant face and deny her feelings. She was getting almost frighteningly good at that.
* * *
MEREDITH CHECKED TO BE SURE there was still decaf in the coffeepot, in case anyone wanted a second cup, and switched off the light over the kitchen sink. Her image, reflected in the window, disappeared, and she stood looking out at the lawn and the strip of woods beyond as dusk drew in.
From the living room she could hear the chime of her mother’s laughter. Dr. Bennett Campbell had stopped by, and the two of them were playing a game of dominos. As good an excuse as any, Meredith supposed, for an exchange of local gossip and the mild flirtation that had gone on between the two of them for years.
Bennett had closed down his medical practice a few years ago, but he was always ready to listen and sympathize with Mom’s complaints. He’d describe himself as a family friend, probably, but Meredith had always believed he didn’t care much for her. She was too sensible and practical, too much like her father. Bennett, ridiculously old-fashioned for his age, liked women who were frilly and flirtatious, and who at least pretended to be a bit helpless when there was a man around.
Still, she had to be grateful to Bennett for tonight’s visit, since it removed the temptation to confront her mother about searching her room.
A flicker of movement from outside caught Meredith’s eye, and she leaned forward for a better look. Someone had come down the drive, apparently, and was headed toward the path to the pond. A faint uneasiness touched her, moving like a breeze across her skin.
People did come through this way, even though it involved walking across their property. She wouldn’t ordinarily say anything, but something about the way that figure drifted silently along...
Her breath caught. She recognized the shape and the movement. It was Laura Hammond.
What was Laura doing here? She rarely went out at night, and certainly not alone and on foot. The unease strengthened to concern. With a quick glance toward the door to the living room, Meredith slipped out onto the back porch.
Dusk drew in earlier now, and the air had cooled down from this afternoon’s balmy seventies. She should go back for a flashlight and jacket, but something insisted she hurry. Laura was already disappearing into the trees.
Meredith walked swiftly across the back lawn. Daylight lingered enough here to make the way easily visible, but shadows gathered beyond, where the path wound toward the dam.
Laura had every right to go there, but at the risk of appearing a hopeless busybody, Meredith knew she couldn’t ignore this visit. Certainly Victor didn’t know Laura was heading for the spot where she used to meet Aaron, the place where Aaron died.
The woods closed around Meredith once she reached the path. She could call to Laura, but the same impulse that had compelled her to follow also urged her to silence.
A thought struck her, nearly taking her breath away. What if Laura was meeting someone else there, where she’d once met Aaron? Her step faltered. Well, if so, Meredith would have to hope she could slip away undetected.
Her sneakers made no sound on the soft earth, and only the faint rustle of the weeds on either side of the path disturbed the stillness.
A branch snapped somewhere off to her left, and her heart stuttered. Foolish. An animal, probably.
She could see the surface of the pool now, gleaming through the trees, and she slowed, coming to a cautious halt when she reached the edge of the clearing. She drew in a breath. Where was Laura? The path didn’t lead anywhere else, but the clearing lay empty before her.
A sound drifted through the air—a kind of tuneless humming that started and stopped. As Meredith’s eyes adjusted to the dark she spotted Laura, sitting on a log in the shadow of the big oak that overhung the dam. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, and she rocked back and forth, as if in time to some music only she could hear.
Meredith approached slowly, trying not to startle her. “Laura?”
Laura didn’t turn, but the slightest movement of her shoulders acknowledged Meredith’s presence.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?” Some instinct kept her voice soft, her movements slow.
She sat down next to Laura on the log, feeling the rough bark even through her khakis. Laura was wearing a short-sleeved sweater and a soft, full skirt—hardly the apparel for walking in the woods.
“I come...sometimes.” Her words were as soft and fragmented as the tune she’d been humming. “I...” She seemed to lose focus for a moment. “I’m waiting.”
Meredith pressed her hands against the log, grateful for the bite of the texture grounding her. If she really wanted to find out what Laura knew about Aaron’s death, this might be the only opportunity she’d have.
“What are you waiting for?”
Laura’s forehead puckered. “I don’t remember.”
She was on something, Meredith felt sure. The slightly slurred speech, the unfocused stare... Still, it might be a medication that had been prescribed for her. Even so, she shouldn’t be out here alone, and the pity Meredith felt for her overwhelmed her desire to question the poor woman.
“It’s getting chilly, and you don’t have a jacket. Why don’t you come in the house with me? I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
“That’s very kind of you.” From somewhere, Laura pulled up the appropriate response. “But I can’t go yet. I have to tell him something.”
“Tell who?” She thought she already knew the answer, and a chill settled inside her.
“Aaron, of course.” Laura looked at her, an expression of surprise on her face. “You know that. You know I have to tell him.”
Was Laura imagining that Meredith was one of her high school friends? Jeannette, maybe, who’d always been her best friend, even when they were teenagers. She’d always thought Jeannette an odd choice of best friend for the most popular girl in the valley.
“I don’t think he’d want you to wait out here in the cold, would he?” She took Laura’s arm, attempting to get her to her feet. “Let’s go back to the house.”
“I can’t.” Laura rose, but her voice rose, too. “You know I can’t. It’s important. I have to tell him. It changes everything. I have to tell Aaron.”
The chill seemed to expand, surrounding Meredith’s heart. Laura wasn’t talking about whispering a message to Aaron in the place he’d died. She was back there, twenty years ago, waiting for Aaron to meet her.
“Aaron? Where are you?” Laura called out, taking a step toward the dam and the foaming water.
Meredith caught her arm. “He’s not here. He couldn’t come tonight. You can tell him later.” She tugged at her, suddenly desperate to get Laura back to lights and warmth and other people.
Laura strained toward the dam. Meredith held on, afraid of what Laura might do if she let go. She needed help, she couldn’t cope with this alone—
The pressure on Meredith’s hand stopped. Laura stared at the water. And then she buried her face in her hands, her body trembling as she began to weep soundlessly.
Meredith wrapped an arm around her and hustled her toward the path. “It’s all right. Really. We’ll soon get you home. Everything will be all right.”
Nonsense words, and false besides. She didn’t think everything was going to be all right for Laura for a long time, maybe not ever. But the words were meant to comfort, and maybe they did that, at least.
They stumbled up the path. It wasn’t really wide enough for two, but Meredith was a
fraid to let go of the woman, so she walked through the weeds. Berry brambles caught at her pant legs, but she kept forging ahead, absurdly glad to see the lights of the house still on and even to see her mother and Bennett seated at the card table in the living room.
Bennett was a doctor. Maybe she should ask him for help with Laura.
But Bennett was also an incurable busybody, and if her mother saw Laura like this, it would be all over Deer Run by morning. Better just to put Laura in the car and run her home. Her mother would hear the car going out, of course, but Meredith could think of some explanation by the time she got back.
But she didn’t have her keys. She’d have to go in the house for them, risk having her mother hear what was going on—
A light stabbed her in the face, and she lifted one hand to shield her eyes, clutching Laura with the other.
“What are you doing with Laura?” Jeannette lowered the flashlight she held, rushing toward them like an avenging angel.
“Keep your voice down unless you want my mother and Bennett Campbell out here,” Meredith said in a furious whisper. “I was about to run Laura home.”
Jeannette shielded the flashlight with her fingers, letting out enough light to examine Laura’s face. The tears had stopped, thank goodness, but her face was still wet with them, and she’d begun humming again. Meredith’s heart clenched with pity.
“My car’s still out,” Jeannette said abruptly. “I’ll drive her.”
Meredith nodded. She had no desire to face Victor with explanations. “I’ll help you get her to the car.”
Laura’s humming had been replaced with a soft murmur of words Meredith couldn’t understand. Did Jeannette? She glanced at Jeannette in the circle of light from the streetlamp as they crossed the road, but Jeannette’s face was expressionless. Maybe she was used to this. Being Laura’s best friend couldn’t be an easy task.
Jeannette steered them to her car, which was parked at the curb, and opened the rear door. Wordlessly they helped Laura inside. She promptly slid over to lie down on the seat. Jeannette closed the door.
“I’ll take it from here.” She yanked the driver’s door open. “Thank you.” The words were an after-thought, apparently. She started the car and drove off.
Meredith shivered, rubbing her arms as she watched the red taillights recede down the nearly empty street. It didn’t look as if anyone had noticed them. She’d better get inside before she was missed.
When she reached her own driveway again, she couldn’t help glancing at Jeannette’s place, and she sucked in a breath. She’d been wrong. Someone had noticed them. Zach stood in the upstairs window, and he was looking right at her.
Meredith turned and fled for the back door.
CHAPTER FOUR
ZACH PUSHED ASIDE the frilly curtain in his bedroom to stare out at the street again. Frills—the place was full of them. Jeannette’s taste ran toward what he supposed was High Victorian—fine for those who liked it, but he didn’t.
The street told him exactly nothing. Meredith had vanished into her house. Really hers, as Jeannette had informed him over breakfast. Meredith’s father had left everything to her, along with the responsibility of taking care of her mother. In any event, she hadn’t reappeared since that little scene he’d witnessed earlier, and Jeannette hadn’t come back.
Not that he cared, but it was odd. It was in a cop’s nature to notice odd.
Meredith and Jeannette didn’t care much for each other—that much was evident from the way Jeannette spoke of her. Yet they’d come out of the driveway next to Meredith’s place together, supporting a third woman between them. They’d put her into the backseat of Jeannette’s car and exchanged a few words. Jeannette drove off.
That was all, except that when Meredith looked up and saw him, she’d run like a scared rabbit. Or like someone with something to hide.
Okay, he could call it a cop’s instinct if he wanted to, but he suspected he was just too interested in anything to do with Meredith King. Just as he’d been back in high school, noticing her, but not letting her see that he was. At that point in his life he’d figured someone like Meredith was as far out of his reach as the moon, but it hadn’t turned out that way. When she’d turned those big brown eyes on him and looked, really looked, at him, he’d been sunk.
Impatient with himself, he grabbed the room key and headed for the stairs. He’d been cooped up too long. He needed some exercise to help him get his mind on other things.
Deer Run was the kind of place where they rolled up the sidewalks at ten o’clock. Nothing was open at this hour except for the village’s lone bar, and even it didn’t seem to be doing much business for a Friday night. He passed the fire hall grounds, already set up for the auction tomorrow. Those Amish auctions had been going on when he was a kid—everybody in town turned out for them. The auction tent had already been erected, fluttering ghostly in the dark.
Zach turned aimlessly at the corner and headed along a residential street where the houses sat back from the road, their windows warm yellow rectangles behind which families went about their business.
Jeannette could have turned up one of these streets. He’d had no way of seeing her route from his vantage point. If she’d been taking someone home from Meredith’s... But what sense did that make? And why had she and Meredith been supporting the woman between them?
He hadn’t been able to identify the third woman, not at that distance and in the near dark. Anyway, he’d been gone too long to remember most of the denizens of Deer Run.
At least he could return Jeannette’s curiosity about him with a few questions of his own, he supposed. Somehow he had a feeling it would enliven the breakfast table if he were to ask what she’d been doing.
Zach stepped off the curb, and then did a quick leap back when a car screeched to a halt right in front of him, close enough that he could feel the heat of it. A cop car, he noted.
He waited, tension running through him, not sure what was happening. A moment’s pause, and then a big guy in uniform slid out of the driver’s door. He stepped into the circle of light from the streetlamp, and Zach recognized him. Ted Singer. A year or two ahead of him in high school, a jock, inclined to resent or bully anyone who was different.
Zach had had his share of run-ins with Ted in those days, usually when he’d found the guy picking on someone who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, fight back. Ted had outweighed him, but Zach’d been quick, and he liked to think he’d given as good as he’d gotten.
Strange, that someone like Ted had ended up a cop. Still, maybe he’d outgrown his bad habits since high school. After all, Jake Evans hadn’t treated him as he’d expected.
A flashlight beam hit him in the face. “What are you doing here?”
Maybe Ted accosted every stranger to Deer Run that way, but somehow he doubted it.
“Taking a walk. How’re you doing, Ted?” Zach made an effort to keep his tone easy, tamping down the temptation to snap back.
Singer took a step closer. He had a couple of inches on Zach, and if anything was even beefier than he’d been in high school. “Do I know you?”
Ted was pretending not to recognize him, even though everyone in town had to know he was back by now. If it wasn’t pretense, Ted wasn’t much of a cop. But no, he could feel the antagonism flowing toward him.
“Zach Randal.” He waited, sure he knew what was coming next.
“Randal.” Singer ground out the name. “It seems to me there’s an outstanding theft charge against you, Randal. You come back to face the music?”
If he hadn’t been so annoyed, he’d have laughed. Singer was doing a hackneyed imitation of a tough cop in an ’80s film.
“If you remember the complaint, you must also remember that it was dropped.” He considered pulling out his shield, but with the mood Singer was in, that might make t
hings worse.
“Not sure I do.” Singer jerked a thumb toward the patrol car. “Let’s go back to the station while I run a check.”
His jaw tightened, and it took an effort to unclench it. He held up both hands, palms open. “In that case, I’ll just pull out my cell phone and call my attorney, Jake Evans. It’ll be like old home week. We can talk about old times while Jake draws up a complaint against you. Should make for interesting reading for the chief when he comes on duty in the morning, right?”
Singer’s hands clenched into fists. Zach could see the desire to take a swing and braced himself, fighting down the urge to react. Don’t start it. Whatever you do, don’t start it.
Singer loomed over him a moment longer. Then he moved back. “You take one step out of line and I’ll land on you. That’s a promise.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” Zach forced his voice to stay casual.
“You always were trash.” Singer stalked to the car, slid in and pulled out with a shriek of tires. “People don’t change,” he called out over the noise.
Zach didn’t move until the taillights disappeared around the corner. Funny. Singer certainly hadn’t changed.
Zach’s desire to take a walk had vanished, but he went on to the end of the block before turning back, just to prove he could.
He’d made an enemy. Not surprising, but that hadn’t been his intent in coming back. He’d wanted to clear the slate and walk away. Maybe he’d been naïve to think he could.
* * *
MEREDITH FOUND HER THOUGHTS straying as she tried to focus on the spreadsheet in front of her the next morning. Her mother had taken an early shift at the flower stand, so she was already at the fire hall grounds. She’d be in her element, sitting in the booth surrounded by flowers, chatting with everyone who passed by.
So this was a perfect time for Meredith to get caught up on her current project, if she could just manage to keep her thoughts on the figures and not on last night’s curious events.
Marta Perry Page 5
