"Oh, no, you don't," Gabby snapped, towing her back to the minivan with an iron grip on her upper arm.
Emily dug her boots in but found no purchase on the leaf-strewn sidewalk. She spit out a hank of hair that had blown into her mouth and spluttered at Gabby. "Leaves are getting inside. I need to call someone to board this up."
Gabby whipped her around. "What you need to do is call the police."
Emily gaped at Gabby. "Why? They don't board up broken windows," she said stupidly.
"How do you think that window got broken?" Gabby countered.
Emily surveyed her darkened front window and billowing curtains. Gabby was right. She assumed a branch had smashed the window, but it had been a calm night. The wind was just now picking up, and there was no tree branch in sight. Realization dawned.
"Someone broke my window!" she yelled at Gabby, backpedaling to the minivan. Gabby hopped into her side, slamming her hand down on the door locks. Emily's whole body shook violently, and after several failed attempts to dial the police, she mutely handed the phone to Gabby. She listened with half an ear as Gabby reported the broken window. She wondered if someone had been inside her home or, even worse, if someone might still be in there. Her teeth chattered and Gabby nudged up the heat. Gabby was still on the phone, but Emily kept her eyes glued to her front door. The longer she thought about it, the more certain she was of the identity of the window-breaker. Barnes heard her outside his house. He clearly had something to hide, and he wanted to frighten Emily away. He had ample time to drive over here, shatter her window, and hightail it back home before she and Gabby got back from getting ice cream.
A siren interrupted her train of thoughts. Gabby and Emily remained in the minivan, rolling down the window to speak to—who else?—Detective Gangly-Arms. He retrieved the keys from Emily and sent a couple of uniformed officers on ahead to search the house.
"You're keeping us awfully busy, Ms. Taylor. You either have some of the worst luck I've ever seen, or you have some mighty ticked-off enemies."
"It would appear so," Emily answered him drily, not wanting to show how truly frightened she was.
"Where were you when this happened?" Gangly-Arms asked her, his sweeping gesture toward her front window making it clear what "this" he was referring to.
Gabby leaned over, practically sprawling across Emily's lap. "We went for some ice cream and a little gossip. That's all, Detective Welks." Emily wasn't sure, but she thought Gabby might have even batted her eyelashes. Gabby oozed a certain sweetness and charm that could bring even the biggest fella to his knees. It would seem Gangly-Arms was not impervious to her feminine wiles. Even in the dim glow of the revolving police lights and the lamplight spilling onto the lawn through her shattered window, Emily noticed Gangly-Arm's blush. She almost felt sorry for this poor wet-behind-the-ears detective. He might have a shiny new badge and a well-honed instinct for investigation, but it would appear he still had a lot to learn about women.
"Of course." He stared into Gabby's large brown eyes, and she gave him a slow, smoldering smile. One of the officers approached and tapped him on the shoulder. Gangly-Arms startled like a kid caught popping his bubblegum in class. When he turned to address the officer, Emily whispered in Gabby's ear, "You should be ashamed of yourself, Gabriella Marie. What would Greg say?"
Gabby laughed softly and straightened up in her seat. "How do you think I handle Greg when he's upset?"
Emily scoffed because she knew better than that. Gabby was just trying to lighten the mood. Greg might think the sun rose and set in Gabby's eyes, but she was also convinced that Greg walked on water. They adored each other, and Emily prayed she would find a love like that of her own one day.
When Gangly-Arms turned back to them, he was all business. "Ms. Taylor, we need you to come inside and ascertain for us if anything is missing. Nothing appears to be disturbed, but we need to be sure."
Emily nodded woodenly, opened the minivan door, and headed back up her walk. Gabby hurried up beside her and grabbed her hand. She was grateful for the moral support, unsure of what she'd find inside. She expected the worst, so she was pleasantly surprised when the only disturbance was the small pile of leaves coloring her beige carpet. She took a quick tour of the rest of her duplex, but she didn't find anything amiss.
Returning to the living room, she was surprised to see that Tad had arrived and was deep in conversation with the detective. She whipped her head to send an accusatory glare Gabby's way, but her friend wouldn't meet her eyes. Leave it to Gabby to call in her form of the cavalry, she thought in defeat.
Gangly-Arms waved her over. After assuring him that nothing was missing, she stared uncomprehendingly at the object he held out to her.
"It's a brick." Was she slow tonight, or what?
But he was patient. "Yes. It would appear someone tossed this through your window. This note was wrapped around it." He held up a large plastic bag containing a typewritten note. It read: "Keep your nose out of things that are none of your business—OR ELSE!"
Emily was back to shivering uncontrollably. Tad and Gabby put an arm around her, one on each side. The detective asked quietly, "Do you have any idea who might have left you this message?"
Emily shook her head no, but of course, she was confident she knew exactly who wanted to scare or warn her away. She couldn't point a finger at Barnes, however, without telling Gangly-Arms where she and Gabby had been tonight. She was certain that neither the detective nor Tad would be amused by their nighttime trespassing expedition.
"I would say it was the same person who ran them off the road." Tad was visibly irritated. "Any leads there?"
"Not so far, Mr. Higginbotham, but I can assure you that this is an ongoing investigation. We'll test the brick and paper for fingerprints, and we'll try to trace this paper, but…" He didn't need to finish his sentence. They all knew it was a long shot. Whoever was behind all of this was smart and careful. The paper was generic white printer paper that could have been purchased anywhere. Emily knew this scare tactic had to be executed in a hurry, and in a rage if Barnes was behind it. And she was sure he was. Could she picture him running her and Gabby off the road and then acting as cool as the fall night to her face at school? Yes. Yes, she thought she could.
A new thought occurred to Emily. "Why do you think Jim changed his last name?" she asked the detective. "This all has to be tied back to him somehow, doesn't it?"
Gangly-Arms considered her question. "Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves," he finally said. "I take it you also have discovered who Jim really was?"
Emily nodded. "My mom remembered hearing the story at the time the kidnapping happened. She just called me a little while ago." She gave an I'll tell you later wave at Tad as he was clearly looking at her for an explanation as to what was going on.
Gangly-Arms continued. "I see. Well, we have learned that Jim Olsen was documented as telling the press that he would never rest until he found his nephew."
"But how does that tie him to Helen?" Emily asked. "She doesn't have any children."
"As I said, the investigation is ongoing."
Emily puzzled how Barnes was tied to all of this, too. There had to be a missing link that joined Jim, Helen, and Barnes together. She just hadn't found it. Yet.
She noticed that Gangly-Arms was watching her closely, so she gave him a bland smile. He frowned as he said, "I don't think I need to remind you again, Ms. Taylor, Mrs. Spencer…" He briefly met Gabby's eyes, and she gave him a blinding smile. He blushed again, and Emily felt Tad suppressing a laugh behind her. She pinched Gabby's arm, but the femme fatale only turned her wide eyed, innocent look on her. The poor detective cleared his throat. "As I was saying," he continued, the frown firmly back in place, "I'm sure I don't need to remind you to stay out of this investigation. We have things firmly under control."
"Of course, Detective," Gabby purred, subtly steering him toward the door.
He called back over his shoulder, "I'll be in touch." The
door closed behind the last officer, and Emily collapsed on the sofa with a moan and put her head in her hands.
"Now what?" she asked, peeking between the fingers of her left hand. She didn't know how many more surprises she could handle.
"Now, I get home before Greg sends out a search party. Tad, take care of our girl." She made a "call me" gesture behind Tad's back, and then she was gone. Traitor.
"Pack your things," Tad told her and headed out the front door.
When she hadn't moved when he walked back in hefting a toolbox, he barked, "Why aren't you getting your stuff together?"
"More to the point, why would I be? And what are you doing with that?" She flung a hand toward the toolbox. She knew she sounded peevish, but she didn't care. This had been one long night, and she was in no mood to be bossed around by another irritable male.
Tad clenched and unclenched his fists, making a visible effort to calm down. "When Gabby told me what happened, I brought some supplies. I do live above a hardware store, you know. And you can't honestly think I'd let you stay here by yourself tonight?"
Emily thought about arguing on principle, but then she wondered if Barnes, or whoever threw the brick through her window, might make a return visit. Without a word, she pushed to her feet and went to the hall closet to pull out a small suitcase.
Satisfied, Tad went back out to retrieve a board to cover the shattered window. Emily tossed necessities haphazardly into her suitcase. Listening to the pounding of nails in her living room, Emily stared at her reflection in the mirror over the bathroom sink. Her face was pale and pinched, and her eyes looked too big for her face. She briefly debated calling her parents, but noting how late it was, she decided that call could wait until tomorrow. No need to worry them unnecessarily. There was nothing they could do anyway. So it looked like she would be staying the night at Tad's. The thought should have set her nerves to buzzing, but she was too exhausted to spare any excess emotion. She dragged her suitcase into the living room as Tad closed up his toolbox. "Ready to go?" he asked curtly. Emily didn't know what he had to be so grumpy about—it wasn't his window that had been broken.
Still, as she locked up, wondering if it was a futile effort, she said, "I'm sorry Gabby dragged you into this. I hope I didn't interrupt your Mathletes' practice."
Rather than answer her, Tad jerked her suitcase out of her hand and tossed it in the backseat. He barely waited until Emily had buckled her seat belt before tearing out of her driveway. Emily saw the set of his jaw in the intermittent illumination of street lamps. She could practically feel the waves of anger and frustration pouring off of him. Too tired to try and figure out Tad's moods tonight, she leaned back against the seat rest and closed her eyes. When Tad pulled to a stop with a jerk, she contemplated just sleeping in the car. She was too tired to move. She remained still, her eyes closed, but the intensity of Tad's stare seared her eyelids. Still not opening them, she said, "What's your problem anyway? I said I'm sorry you were drug into this. You could have just taken me to my parents."
"And given them another scare in the middle of the night? No, thank you. Having to tell them you were in the hospital due to a car accident is one of the worst things I've ever had to do." Emily was instantly contrite. She should have realized what a toll making that call must have taken on Tad. Of course he didn't want to scare her parents again. Neither did she. Emily felt choked by the onslaught of guilt.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your night again." She turned toward Tad, wide awake now, but to her surprise, he grabbed her suitcase, slammed out of the car, and stomped up the stairs to his apartment. Emily hurried to catch up. Tad unlocked the door and tossed her suitcase inside. Emily had never seen him this angry.
"Is that what you think I'm upset about? That Gabby interrupted our Mathletes' meeting?"
Emily cringed. So they had interrupted the meeting. "I know you're getting ready for a big meet. I'm really sorry. If—"
Tad cut her off with a shout, "Quit saying you're sorry!"
Emily was too stunned by Tad's outburst to even move. Tad was on a roll now and didn't even notice her silence. "I'm mad because you can't keep your nose out of things. I'm mad because I keep getting these phone calls about you that scare me half to death. I'm mad that you're messing around in a murder investigation like you actually know what you're doing!"
Emily's vision went red. Now, she too was irritated. "Don't know what I'm doing? Messing around? Who appointed you my guardian? I'm sorry for the calls, but I do not answer to you. I make my own decisions, and I take my own actions."
"You sure do," Tad steamed. "And a great job you're doing of it, too."
Emily stepped forward until she and Tad were practically nose to nose. Her voice was eerily quiet. "You're out of line, Tad."
If Tad hadn't been huffing and snorting like a bull about to charge, the change in her voice would have clued him in to just how angry Emily was at that moment. Instead, he said, "I'm not out of line. You are. You have to butt out of this whole mess."
"Listen here," she began, drilling a finger into his chest.
"No, you listen," he interrupted, grabbing her by the shoulders. Then he did the one thing Emily could never have seen coming. With one rough jerk, he knocked her off balance so that she stumbled into his chest, her cast catching him in the stomach. He didn't notice, though, because he was too busy taking her mouth in a kiss so full of heat she was sure the fire detectors would go off. When the initial shock wore off, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and kissed him back. She had known that kissing Tad would be amazing, but she hadn't expected to feel a zing all the way down to her toes. And then she was left teetering as he let go of her shoulders as abruptly as he had grabbed them.
They stood a few feet apart, eyes locked, breath coming fast. For the first time that she could ever recall, Emily was speechless. Her mind was a complete blank for a span of several seconds, but when her brain engaged again, the voice in her head was talking so fast it sounded like a chipmunk on speed. What did that kiss mean? Was it just a reaction to all the emotional upheaval surrounding them? Was Tad truly interested in her as more than a friend? What was he thinking now? Did he regret his impulsive move? Would he kiss her again?
She worked up the nerve to ask him one of the million questions hammering at her, but before she could form the words, Tad turned and moved to the refrigerator. He grabbed a soda for himself and shoved another across the counter to her. The moment was lost. Emily drank deep of the sweet, icy soda to mask her disappointment. As the fizzy bubbles danced on her tongue, washing away the taste of Tad's kiss, she decided it was for the best. She was too emotionally fragile to deal with such an explosive issue tonight. She gave the air a sniff for any signs of smoke, but it would appear they had not actually set anything on fire. She slumped onto a barstool and uttered the first thing, unrelated to their steaming kiss, that popped into her head. "Could Jim's girlfriend, Stephanie, have a son?"
Tad took her non sequitur in stride. "Stephanie from the gym?" he clarified. She nodded and Tad came around to sit on a barstool next to her. "I assume you're asking because you think that child could be Jim's long-lost nephew." Again, she nodded. "But," he continued, "I don't think that scenario is plausible. Stephanie can't be more than thirty. That would make her only thirteen when Jim's nephew was born."
"I don't think she's involved anyway," Emily conceded. "My money's still on Barnes. Even if Gabby and I didn't find any—" She cut herself off before she let news of her and Gabby's nocturnal visit slip.
Her words were not lost on Tad. He gave her an arch look. "I'm not even going to ask where you and Gabby were sticking your noses tonight. But if you're that set on Barnes as a murderer, you need to exercise even more caution. He has access to you every day."
"Don't remind me," she muttered.
Tad ran a hand down her arm and her fingers tingled. She held her breath, waiting to see what Tad would do next. But his next words dashed any hope of a repeat performance of that
smoldering kiss. "Speaking of seeing Barnes, tomorrow will be here before we know it. We'd better try to get some shut-eye." Tad retrieved her suitcase from where he'd tossed it earlier and carried it down the hall to the guest room.
"Thank you," she said, feeling suddenly shy around him.
"My pleasure." His tone was husky, and with a small smile, which she hoped was a little regretful, he turned and left, shutting the door behind him. Emily stood stock still, half hoping he'd come back. Then her rational side kicked in, and she fell back on the bed, fully clothed. Now was definitely not the time to explore the meaning behind that kiss. There was a murderer on the loose, Helen was still missing, and someone was targeting her. First things first. Still, as she tossed and turned throughout the night, despite the comfortable bed, Emily could hear Tad doing the same across the hall. She couldn't help but wonder if his mind was on Jim's murder and the ensuing trouble, or on that kiss and what it meant for their future relationship. It was one of the longest nights of Emily's life.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Emily breathed a sigh of relief as she slid out of Tad's car at school the next morning. They had tiptoed around each other all morning, never making eye contact, studiously avoiding any conversation that didn't revolve around the weather. Emily half expected to find her normally stick-straight hair either standing on end or as curly as Gabby's, with all the electricity crackling between them on the car ride to school. Glancing at her reflection in the door as she breezed through, she could see no visible signs of agitation, in her hair or otherwise. It looked like she was going to have to confront the situation with Tad at one point or another. They couldn't go on like this. She held a conversation with Tad in her head as she swung around the corner in the main office to check her mailbox. Even the make-believe conversation was awkward, so she wasn't paying attention to where she was going. She walked straight into Mr. Barnes, who was going the opposite direction. Emily leaped back like she'd been bitten by a snake. Barnes dropped his eyes and stormed past her, the hand clutching his mail white-knuckled, with either embarrassment or rage. Either way, Emily had no doubt that Barnes had definitely seen and/or heard her outside his house last night.
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