by Sara Rosett
On the way to the hospital, Zoe called Helen. “Are you busy? Do you think you could get off work a little early?”
“Already did. I’m looking for yams.”
Zoe blinked. Maybe she really was losing her grip on reality? “Did you say yams?”
“Yes. Wild ones. They might possibly increase my fertility, so I figured it couldn’t hurt to try them.”
“Oh.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“I’m in an ambulance on the way to the hospital—I’m fine. It’s only a precaution,” Zoe said quickly. Helen in mother-hen mode was quite bossy.
“Oh my God. What happened?”
“I found Lucinda McDaniel with a knife in her back then someone knocked me out. Can you come pick me up?”
After a beat of silence, Helen said, “Of course.”
Chapter Three
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ZOE felt like she’d been tucked away behind a curtained alcove around the hospital bed for hours. The curtains fluttered, and she expected to see Helen stepping into the bay in the ER. But it wasn’t Helen.
“Jack. What are you doing here?”
“Helen called me. Sorry I missed your call earlier. Are you okay? What did the doctor say?” He was frowning, scanning her from head to toe.
“That I’m fine,” Zoe said, distractedly, her thoughts racing back over the crazy afternoon. She’d called Jack? When? “Don’t look so worried. It’s only a little bump. No big deal.”
“How do they know that?”
“They did a scan. I’m fine. Really.”
“Should you be standing up?”
“Yes. I should. I’m going to find the nurse with my discharge paperwork so I can get out of here.”
“I’m sure they’ll be along in a moment. Why don’t you at least sit down on the edge of the bed?” He took her arm and tried to move her backward.
She pulled away. “I’m fine. I just want to get out of this place.”
Jack scanned her face, his head tilted to the side. “Don’t like hospitals?”
“Let’s just say I feel the same way about them as you do about heights.” Zoe had recently discovered that Jack hated heights, or as he’d said, he hated the thought of falling from heights.
He handed her the ice pack she’d left on the bed. “You stay put. I’ll take care of it.”
Helen swept into the room. “Okay. I’ve got your after-care sheet.” Jack nodded to her on his way out.
“Where’s he going?” Helen asked.
“Supposedly, to get me out of here, if he can find a nurse. They seem to have disappeared.”
“Oh, I have a feeling he won’t have any trouble getting some attention at the nurses’ station. Here’s your phone and messenger bag.” Helen had arrived at the ER shortly after Zoe, and Zoe had handed all her personal belongings off to Helen.
“You called him?” Zoe asked. “Why would you do that?”
“Because you did, it’s in your call list. You called him before you called me. I figured you wanted him to know you were here.”
Zoe frowned at her phone as she checked the list. “I called Jack? First, before anyone else? Even before I called you?”
Then it came back to her like a fuzzy dream that didn’t make sense in the daylight. In the car, after she’d called 911, she had dialed Jack’s number, but he hadn’t answered.
“Interesting, isn’t it?” Helen raised her eyebrows and nodded her head in a knowing way. “What does that say? When you needed help, you called him.”
The same thought was reverberating through Zoe’s mind. Was she coming to...depend on Jack? No. That would never do. “It proves I was disoriented and confused,” Zoe said briskly. “Did you tell him about Lucinda?”
“Only that you’d found her. He said he’d get here as soon as he could.”
Zoe transferred the ice pack from one hand to another and rubbed her forehead. She hadn’t told Helen that Lucinda’s body was missing. The more she thought about the whole situation, the crazier it made her sound. Now that she was away from Lucinda’s house, the entire afternoon seemed like a strange hallucination.
Jack reentered the room with a nurse. Once Zoe signed the forms, they made their way to the parking lot where Helen and Jack decided that Jack would drive Zoe home, and Helen would coordinate with Tucker so they could pick up Zoe’s car and drop it off at her house after Tucker got off work.
“Excuse me, but don’t I get a say in any of this?” The sun hovered at the horizon, but the brightness of it made her pulse throb in her head. Zoe found her sunglasses and slipped them on. “I’m standing right here. Helen can drop me off at my car. I’ll drive it home.”
“Nope.” Helen tapped the paper. “No driving for you. Rest and ice. That’s all that’s on your agenda tonight.” As Jack moved some paperwork out of the passenger seat of his car, Helen added, “Oh, and being woken every few hours tonight. I think that’s Jack’s department.” She winked at Zoe then handed off the sheet with the after-care notes to Jack. She turned back to Zoe, all teasing gone from her tone. “What a horrible, horrible thing to happen. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Zoe gave Helen a quick hug. “Thank you for meeting me here.”
Helen patted Zoe on the arm. “Of course. Rest up and don’t forget to ice that bump. Later, I want all the details about what happened. What a shock. I can’t believe Lucinda McDaniel is dead.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Zoe murmured as she slid into the passenger seat and waved to Helen. The air in the car was scorching and thick with the fragrance of flowers.
“It smells great in here. Is that one of those air freshener things?” Zoe checked the rearview mirror for a dangling cutout of a flower, but there wasn’t one. “I think I need one for my car.”
“No, dang it, it’s the real thing.” Jack switched the air conditioner to high then reached in the back seat. “I forgot about these and left them in the car. They’ve wilted. Pity.” He handed her a bundle of flowers wrapped in green tissue.
“Jack, these are gorgeous.” The bouquet was a burst of color: delicate pink tulips, yellow snapdragons, deep blue hyacinths, orange mums, and tiny wild roses in red, white, and pink. “But you didn’t have to get me flowers. I was only in the hospital for a few hours. Thank God.”
Jack pulled into the traffic. “They were for our date.”
“Our date? Oh, our date.”
Jack kept his attention on the road. “Which I can see you were anticipating with baited breath.”
“Sorry. With everything that’s happened, I’d completely forgotten.”
“Understandable.” Jack sent her a quick smile before he changed lanes. “A dead body and a blow to the head would override dinner plans.”
“But these really are beautiful. I’ve never seen a bouquet like this before.”
He lifted one shoulder. “A dozen red roses didn’t seem like your style. Too trite. And boring.”
Zoe fingered one of the petals. “I’d never turn down flowers of any kind, but you’re right. I’m not exactly a hothouse flower kind of girl.”
Jack stopped at a light then held her gaze. “No. You definitely need something more...exotic.”
Zoe felt a blush spreading across her cheeks again. What was it with these blushes lately? The car behind them honked, and Jack slowly transferred his attention to the road. “So, dinner? Do you want something to eat?”
“Yes. I’m starving.”
“How about Chinese? It’s not the dinner I had planned, but...”
“Oh, egg rolls and sweet and sour chicken. Excellent idea. We can call in an order when we get home.”
“Okay.” Jack merged into traffic on the freeway. “So you want to tell me about the other half?”
“What?”
Jack glanced over his shoulder before changing lanes. “When Helen said she wanted all the details, you said she didn’t know the half of it. What’s the other half?”
“You�
�re going to think I’m crazy.” Zoe rubbed a hand down her jeans. “The police think I’m some sort of mental case.”
“Try me.”
She blew out a breath. Even she was beginning to doubt what she’d seen. She’d been so sure of what happened when she first came to in the car, but the more time that passed, the more uncertainty crept in. How could Lucinda’s body be there, then gone? It didn’t make sense.
Could it have been some elaborate trick? But who would play a trick like that? She could almost see it being part of a prank reality show and, normally, she wouldn’t put anything past her mom, who had been the driving force behind her family’s appearance on a reality show when Zoe was in her tweens. But Donna had a steady gig as a retirement lifestyle correspondent for a morning show with a major network now. The producers were strict about what Donna could and couldn’t do—appearances and promotions—and Zoe was pretty sure that the producers of the morning show would nix any idea of Donna pranking someone with a dead body or being involved with a show that did that.
“Zoe?”
Zoe shook her head. “It seems surreal now. Unbelievable.”
“I’ve had some unbelievable experiences myself, and they were true. It can’t be worse than someone taking out a hit on you. That’s not exactly common.”
“It’s worse. Lucinda’s body is gone.” Zoe cringed as she said it. It sounded even more absurd when she said it aloud. The evening rush-hour traffic swished around them, all those normal people hurrying to get home and fix dinner or get the kids to soccer practice.
“What do you mean gone?”
“Gone. Disappeared. Not there. Taken. I don’t know. She was sprawled on the chaise lounge with a knife in her back. I was staring at her when I was hit on the head. I woke up in my car and called the police. When I led the police into the backyard, Lucinda’s body was gone. Nowhere in the backyard or the house. Not even a drop of blood on the chaise cushions. I can tell the police think I’m either some odd person bent on getting attention, or someone who needs some medication.”
Jack watched the traffic, smoothly shifting into the fast lane to pass a car, but Zoe could tell his thoughts were on what she’d said. “Hmm...Yes, that is bad. Not particularly worse than the hit man, but a definite tie.” He shot her a quick smile before sliding into the exit lane, and she felt the knot of anxiety loosen a bit. He hadn’t scoffed or written it off as a side effect of the head injury.
“So you believe me?”
“Of course.”
“Why? I’m beginning to doubt it myself.”
“Well, you’re not a liar, you’re not prone to psychotic breaks, and,” he hesitated, his voice turning serious as he said, “because when I couldn’t count on anyone else, you were there for me. The last thing I’m going to do is doubt you.”
“That’s overly generous. I only helped you because I’d been pulled in as deep as you and wanted answers.”
“That was true in the beginning.” He sent her a piercing look with those silvery blue eyes.
“Okay, I’ll admit it. I did believe you, especially about the hit man. It wasn’t exactly a leap of faith to believe when someone was taking potshots at you. This is totally different. There’s no proof that I saw Lucinda. There’s no proof that Lucinda was even there.”
“Why do you fight me, on everything?” He grinned. “Let me believe you, if I want to. Go through everything that happened again for me, will you? I want to get it straight in my head.”
Zoe blew out a breath. He was right. Why was she trying to talk him out of believing her? She should just be glad he did and go on.
By the time she’d recounted the series of events, they were turning into their subdivision, Vinewood. The sun had set, but the horizon still glowed orange in the twilight. Their neighborhood was established, and the mature cottonwood trees lining the street blocked out most of the dusky light. Zoe took off her sunglasses as she finished reciting what had happened.
Jack flicked on the headlights. “There’s one thing that doesn’t fit.”
“Just one?”
“The flyers. You said you dropped them.”
“Yes, they went everywhere.”
“How many?”
“Ah, let’s see. There were three houses, so three hundred. One hundred copies for each house.”
“And they were gone when you went back in the yard?”
“I didn’t see a single one.”
“That’s a lot of paper to disappear.” Jack’s mouth quirked down. “I wonder if the police checked Lucinda’s trash?”
“I don’t know. I’d assume they did. They looked everywhere for her, even under the deck. Hey, who’s at our house?” They were still half a block away, but Zoe could see there were two pickups parked in front of their house. A long trailer was attached to one of the trucks.
“Looks like a yard service. Maybe for one of the neighbors?” Jack asked.
Zoe read the magnetic sign attached to the pickup’s driver door as they drove by. “I’ve never noticed Green Lawn Care around here before.” Now that they were closer, Zoe saw a riding lawn mower, a small bobcat, and other lawn maintenance equipment like shovels, rakes, and edgers in the trailer.
A man in a lime-green shirt with the words GREEN LAWN on the pocket and straw hat with a wide brim came down their driveway, gave them a little two-finger salute, and climbed into the pickup with the trailer. By the time Jack parked the car beside the second pickup, which was in their driveway, the pickup with the trailer was already lumbering down the street.
Another man closed the gate to their backyard and came across the driveway toward them. He moved with a stiff-legged stride, rocking his shoulders from side to side in a way that reminded Zoe of a penguin. The fact that he wore black pants and had a stripe of a white dress shirt showing between the edges of his open black leather jacket only added to the impression. “Just finished up.” He waddled toward them. “I think you’ll be pleased with the new landscaping.” His voice had a nasal quality and the quick cadence of his words indicated he was from another part of the country besides Texas.
“You must be at the wrong house,” Zoe called. “I don’t have any landscaping scheduled.”
The man scratched his cheek and consulted a clipboard that had been tucked under his arm. “Zoe Hunter? Five-two-five-one Vinewood Avenue?” His thin salt and pepper hair must have once been shaped into a crew cut, but it had grown out several inches and spiked up above ruddy cheeks and watery brown eyes.
“This day just gets weirder and weirder,” Zoe muttered to Jack. She tucked the flowers into the crook of her arm and reached out to take the clipboard the man held out. “There’s got to be a mistake. I didn’t—” she broke off as she looked at the clipboard.
One of Lucinda’s flyers was pinned under the shiny metal clip. For a second Zoe couldn’t say anything. A gust of wind flicked the edge of the paper back, revealing more identical flyers.
Chapter Four
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"WHERE did you get these?” Zoe demanded.
The man lifted his chin in the direction of the house. “Why don’t we step inside and talk about it.”
“No, I think we should call the police.” Zoe turned to Jack. “These are the flyers that disappeared.” She could tell Jack had picked up on the tension in her voice. If someone had given him a quick glance they wouldn’t see anything different from a few moments earlier, but Zoe knew him well enough to recognize well-disguised wariness as he slowly circled the hood of the car.
“That is why it’s important we talk.” The man pulled back the edge of his jacket, revealing a handgun tucked into a holder at his hip.
Jack halted.
“Don’t worry,” the man said with a little laugh. “I don’t want to use it. All I want to do is talk.”
Zoe and Jack exchanged a glance.
He let the jacket fall back over the gun. “Just a simple conversation, and then I’ll leave. I promise, you want to hear what I
have to say. Otherwise, I will contact the police.”
“Let’s do that now.” Jack pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.
The man shrugged. “Fine by me, but I don’t think you want her to go to jail, do you? Or, did I completely misjudge your feelings for her?”
Jack’s finger hovered over the keypad.
“What are you talking about? I haven’t done anything wrong.” Zoe shook the clipboard at him. “I have nothing to be afraid of,” she said, but she could feel blood pumping through her veins. A surge of nervousness hit her as she remembered the doubtful looks the police had sent her way this afternoon.
“You know that.” The man extended his hands then brought them into his chest. “I know that. But it is a question of perception, isn’t it? The police already think you to be...unbalanced. A few interesting details could push their opinion of you to seriously disturbed. And when there is evidence to support that view...” He trailed off then shrugged again. “Again, it doesn’t matter to me. I simply want to talk.” He held up his hands, palms out. “In fact, I will leave the gun in the truck, if it will make you feel better.” Jack tensed as the man removed the gun from the holster, but he didn’t seem to notice. He opened the door on the driver’s side, shoved the gun under the seat, and slammed the door. He activated the lock with the key fob and turned back to them. “There. Now, surely we can talk.”
Zoe swallowed. “Let’s hear what he has to say.”
Jack looked like he wanted to disagree.
“Excellent.” The man headed for the front door.
Jack fell into step beside Zoe and said in a low voice, “Not a good idea.”
“I don’t love it either, but I want to know what information or...evidence...he has that he thinks he could take to the police.”
“You know he could still be armed? He might have another gun—or something else—on him.”
