''Oh, right,'' Louise scoffed, those nails were now more interesting than Kathleen. Louise buffed old Rod for good measure.
''Okay, don't take my word for it. Grab a flash light. Take a look outside. Those aren't woodpecker holes out there in that wooden garden thing. Take a look at us! Take a look in the front closet. She shot at us.'' Kathleen fumed and ripped off the top of the tea tin wishing it was Louise's head. ''With a shotgun. If Michael hadn't been here, I would have been dead.''
Kathleen ran the water into the kettle. Behind her Louise breathed a sound that seemed like a horrified 'no', but when Kathleen turned triumphantly to receive the other woman's apology, Louise had abandoned her. She was mincing back to the living room on Lucite wedgies, her arms held out toward the one eyed Sarah.
''You didn't. Did you really take a gun to these two?'' Louise cooed in a voice one might use to compliment the hostess's lemon cake.
Louise settled herself beside Sarah who sat stiff with terror. A more unlikely pair one could never hope to see. Sarah swathed in another gray sweater, this one with a shawl collar, and a nondescript blouse tucked into her jeans; Louise in a gold lame blouse and black skin tight jeans that sported open lattice work. The peek-a-boo ran down the outer side of the legs. The less than demure cutouts let the world see that cellulite was not a problem for Louise Booker. Louise crossed those skinny legs of hers and took Sarah's hand.
''You are one gutsy little broad,'' she said solemnly. Louise picked up the ice pack Sarah held against her head and checked out the bruise. It was ugly. ''Wow, I didn't realize how bad that was. How're you feeling?'' Louise clucked, touching the miserable knot on the side of Sarah's forehead. ''I didn't think you had it in you. That's really amazing, you standing your ground like that. I didn't think the estate meant that much to you.''
''It doesn't,'' Sarah groused, coming to life as she eyed Louise warily. Rudely she pulled the ice pack back. Louise crossed her arms, taking no offense. On she talked, addressing Sarah, the watchful Michael and Kathleen, who brought out two cups of tea and put them on the coffee table before going back for two more. Louise raised her voice so Kathleen wouldn't be left out.
''This is something, isn't it? To find out that Sarah and I have something in common after all. I suppose we had to have had something in common. Lionel wasn't a dummy, was he, Sarah?'' Louise batted her lashes at her new friend. They were blue tipped with little balls of iridescent mascara. ''That's what I loved about him. He was smart. His priorities were just a little screwed. But the thing that bothered me was that he wasn't consistent. First he marries someone like me.'' She actually raised a hand to her coifed hair as if they needed reminding of exactly who -or what - she was. ''Then he goes and does the same thing with someone like you.'' The look she gave Sarah was pitying. ''It didn't make sense 'till now. But now I get it.'' Louise raised her arms as if inviting them to join in a refrain. ''Strong women. That's what Lionel needed. Really, really strong women. You had me fooled, Sarah. You really did.''
''Excuse me, but can we cut the bull?'' Michael re-taped the gauze on his hand and looked at Louise, nonplused.
Louise lowered those flashy lashes, and her voice, as she leaned toward Michael. ''You're not much a of a woman's man are you? If you're thinking of bullying this little lady,'' she jerked a thumb toward Sarah, ''you just watch it 'cause I'm here now.''
''And so am I,'' Kathleen rejoined the group of misfits. ''And I'm not going to let anyone do anything that isn't legal or appropriate.''
''Don't look at me, it's him. He's the one that wants to be so heavy handed, or haven't you taken a look at Sarah's eye? What's your name again?'' Louise pushed her chest out just a tad more. Sarah, while now a sister, wasn't half as interesting as a good looking man.
''Crawford. Michael.''
''Oh, I love a man who talks like that.'' Louise pulled back and turned a cold shoulder his way to show she wasn't as impressed as she really was. ''And what's your business here?''
''I came with Kathleen,'' he said evenly. Any other time he would have found Louise Booker interesting, currently she was a pain in the butt. ''I was Lionel's supervisor.''
''Oh, God,'' wailed Sarah burying her face in her hands. The ice pack fell to the floor with the muffled thump of half-melted ice against rubber.
''What, honey, what?'' Louise crowded her on the small chair. Sarah would have ended up on the floor if Louise hadn't grabbed her around the shoulders. She gave Michael a scowl that didn't make a dent in his peevishness.
''Kill me,'' Sarah wailed, lowering her hands, raising her face. Joan of Arc about to be tied to the stake couldn't have looked more pathetically heroic.
''This is ridiculous,'' Michael stood up. Sarah tried to but he turned on her. Kathleen didn't bother to move. ''I'll tie you to that chair if you move again. Now start talking some sense. Kill you! Ridiculous. No you don't,'' he whipped a look at Louise who was about to leap to Sarah's defense. ''I swear I'll tie you to her and I'll gag you. Now, both of you listen up. I'm an auditing supervisor at Tysco Industries. That's it. Nothing more. I came here because Kathleen wanted me to drive her to see Sarah. All I wanted to do was take her to dinner.
''But now I'm here. My hand is killing me. I've been shot at and I've groveled in the dirt. I'm a mess and I'm surrounded by crazy women - excuse me -'' the latter he directed toward Kathleen who nodded back curtly, acknowledging herself as the exception. ''Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get what we came for and what we came for is information. That's all. We don't want to pillage. We don't want to kill you. We just want to know what in the heck had good old Lionel riled before he died!'' Michael did a three sixty-his hands in his hair. He gave a little frustrated tug to the hair at the sides of his head and looked back at Sarah Booker. The silence grew fat and heavy and almost unbearable. ''Are you going to say anything?
There was another strained moment. Finally, Sarah nodded.
''When?'' He asked.
''Now?''
It was going to be a long night.
''He wasn't mad in the way you think. Lionel never got upset that way - like with himself. Did he Louise?''
Michael and Kathleen leaned forward, straining to hear Sarah's voice. Louise plucked at her cuff, trying to snag a tiny thread that eluded her talons. She shook her head.
''Sarah's right there. You could walk all over Lionel, and he wouldn't even get mad at you, would he Sarah?''
''No, not at all, but I never tried to take advantage,'' she reminded Louise shyly, pointing out that there were still some differences between them after all. ''Lionel really hated unfairness. That made him crazy. Cheating, that was another thing that made him crazy. Meanness, too. That's why Lionel never felt badly toward you, Louise.'' Sarah's narrow, pale brow puckered but it hurt her eye so she let her face relax. ''You never tried to cheat him, Louise. He respected that.''
''And I appreciate you telling me. I want you to know I never hated Lionel, Sarah. I just hated the time I wasted with him. You understand?'' Louise gave up the thread hunt, her attention riveted once more on Sarah.
''I do. I do,'' Sarah said sincerely. ''Time is so important. I never realized that until Lionel was gone. You had too much time with him, Louise, and I didn't have enough.''
Kathleen slid her eyes Michael's way. Sarah's kind of love for Lionel was rare indeed, but neither could take too much more of the budding affection between Louise and Sarah Booker. Michael cleared his throat. Sarah blinked. She was back from the past and still wary of the only man about.
''Yes, I'm sorry. Well, I don't really know much about it, you understand. This thing that was bothering him, I mean.'' She was back to picking at her sweater. ''Lionel liked working at Tysco. Everything was in its place. He knew what his job was, they paid well and the benefits were very good. It was a perfect situation. That job left his mind free to pursue the more spiritual aspects of life. You know, to just sort of enjoy all of this.''
''You're kiddin. . .'' Louise started to laugh. Kathleen was close
enough to give her ankle a kick. Louise closed her mouth and collectively they contemplated the small, well kept house, the grounds, the pretty china. Kathleen thought there was something to be said for Lionel's priorities. Sarah sighed. She looked pitiful with her swollen eye and worn sweater.
''One day something came across his desk. Some bill or some kind of accounting document that was meant for someone else. I don't know a lot about this,'' she said again, apologetic and distressed by her ignorance. Her audience nodded their encouragement. ''Well, okay then.'' She took a deep breath. ''Lionel said that, no matter what department they were from, they didn't look right. In fact, he was really, really angry. He said the system was like an idiot child that did whatever a smart person told it to do even if it was an unscrupulous smart person who was telling it to do things. Lionel believed that the actual cash flow in the part of the company those bills came from, and maybe some others, was being manipulated.''
''That would be pretty tough to do,'' Michael commented, one hand over his eyes, a barrier to deflect whatever nonsense was to come. The other arm, the injured one, dangled over the side of the chair.
Sarah gazed at him mournfully. ''I don't know anything other than that. I'm not very good with this kind of thing. I work at the potter's down the way. We don't bill anybody. They just buy their pot and leave.''
''It's okay,'' Kathleen assured her, but even she was weary. This was one of those times when Dorty & Breyer looked like a step up. ''Just go ahead.''
''Well, Lionel said he went to his supervisor with the problem and was told not to worry about it. But Lionel couldn't just ignore the whole thing. So he went a few times more, but his supervisor got angry. Lionel found out who his supervisor's boss was and he was going to go to him.'' Sarah rubbed her temple gingerly. Kathleen winced. Sarah did not. ''He said he'd go to the top if he had to. When he put on his suit, I knew that it had probably come to that. He didn't say it had, but why else would he put on a suit? He looked very handsome.'' This she directed to Louise who was kind enough to simply nod as if she too admired the image of his reed thin body turned out in his Sunday best. ''I didn't want him to do anything crazy. If he lost his job at Tysco I don't know what we'd do.''
Kathleen couldn't resist a glance at Michael. He smiled. He was gorgeous, even after their tussle on the ground. She put her hand to her hair and pushed back her bangs, then gave up on hoping that she might make herself look at least presentable. It would be great to have a brush and her lipstick. Not that it would have mattered to Michael; he was getting into his conversation with Sarah.
''Lionel didn't ever mention a name? Jules Porter was his supervisor before me. Did he say whether or not Jules Porter had threatened him with a personnel action for pushing the matter?''
''No.'' Sarah thought hard. She only knew what she had been told; there would be no extrapolation that might enlighten them. ''He just went off. He kissed me good-bye. I've always been grateful for that. The next thing I knew Lionel was dead. I was devastated. He was my best friend. I really didn't have anyone else.''
''You do now, kiddo.'' Louise lifted the sofa cushion to look underneath only to sit down when she didn't find whatever she was looking for. Kathleen thought a codicil - whether you like it or not - should be added to that statement but she remained silent.
''Anyway, I was home lying down all day after I'd gone to identify his body. I couldn't believe he was dead and I never believed that he took drugs. Just to be sure I searched this house top to bottom looking for something that might prove that he did.''
''And you didn't find anything?'' Michael asked.
''No drugs, no.'' Sarah wound a length of hair around her finger. She didn't look at anyone. ''I just fell apart. I went out to feed the rabbits. I just sat there with them feeling how warm they were. I cried a lot. The hutch is back in the real woodsy area. I thought they'd like it there. You can see it from the house, but just barely. So, I just sat there trying to figure out how drugs had gotten into Lionel. Then the day I went to court, the first day I saw all of you?'' She waited while they nodded. ''When I came home I realized someone must have put drugs in Lionel. I knew then that someone killed my husband.''
''Sarah,'' Kathleen breathed. ''Why on earth would you think that?''
''Because someone is trying to kill me too.'' Sarah looked from one to another. She wasn't asking for their belief or their sympathy. She was simply stating a fact. ''Whoever they were broke into the house when I was back with the rabbits the day Lionel died. They moved things. They stayed in my house. I watched but it was dark when they came, and I was scared. I didn't see exactly who it was. I'd never been so afraid.''
Sarah stood up. She was still afraid. She wrung her hands and paced.
''I convinced myself it was a burglary even though they didn't take anything. But they were odd burglars because they had suits on and they were very, very big.'' Sarah clasped her hands in front of her and continued with the recital. ''Then, after I went into court, and said what I had to say, I was really upset. I went to see my rabbits the first thing when I got back here. This time I knew something really bad was happening because of Lionel. All my rabbits were dead. All of those sweet little rabbits with their necks broken. I went to get a shovel. Those men had been inside again. This time the house was ransacked. They would have killed me if I'd been here. I know it.''
Sarah wound her fingers together tightly and held her hands chest high. There were tears in her good eye.
''I picked everything up; I buried my rabbits out back. I got the gun, and I waited. I almost gave up because nothing's happened for so long. Then you came and I shot at you. I'm glad I didn't hurt you, but you've got to understand how it's been around here ever since Lionel died. I don't know any of you people. I don't know if you want to hurt me or help me. I loved Lionel, but I don't want to die because of him.''
That was the end. She was done talking. Sarah walked out of their little circle and went to the closet where Kathleen had put the gun. Michael tensed and half stood, but Kathleen held him back. Calmly, Sarah set up a step stool and pushed open a slot in the closet ceiling and rummaged about. When she returned, she was holding a manila envelope not the shotgun.
''I'm sure this is what they wanted. This is what got Lionel killed. I found it when I was looking for drugs. He'd hidden it up there.'' She held it out to Michael. It lay gingerly on the open palms of her hands as if she feared spontaneous combustion.
''Then if he was killed -'' Kathleen mused with awe.
''We're talking murder,'' Michael muttered.
''We're talking settlement,'' Louise scoffed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
''Good morning.''
Kathleen sat on the edge of the chair nearest the couch. She'd been watching Michael for at least ten minutes, a juice glass in her hand, before she realized what she was doing. When he opened his eyes and smiled she thought she'd die of desire - and embarrassment.
''Good morning,'' she said, horrified to find she was whispering. A bedroom voice is what her mother had called it. Kathleen had been forbidden to use it in her mother's house. But this wasn't her mother's house and this wasn't her bedroom. How liberating. She grinned and held up the small glass as if to prove she had no intention of seducing him ''I brought you juice. I don't drink coffee, but I could run down to the corner and pick some up if you want.''
Michael put his hands by his sides to push himself up. He didn't get very far. Wincing, he examined his bandaged hand.
''It wasn't a dream?''
Kathleen shook her head and tried out a hang-dog expression.
'''Fraid not.''
He shook out the pain and scooted into position. The sheet fell away from his bare chest. It was a very fine chest, sprinkled with dark curling hair, shot here and there with silver. The hours on the boat kept him more than fit. The hours under the sun had turned his skin golden brown. Kathleen stood up and handed him the glass. He took it. She didn't let go.
''You have a very fine couc
h.'' He talked as if he woke up there often. ''I hope Sarah slept as well.''
Kathleen laughed gently, happy to play the game. But she knew, that he knew, that she was feeling less than comfortable - in the nicest sort of way. ''Sarah probably isn't sure what hit her. Can you imagine being carted away by Louise Booker?''
''I don't know. Those ladies seem to be well suited to each other in an odd sort of way.'' Michael wriggled to settle himself. Kathleen kept talking.
''It was nice that Louise offered Sarah a place to go. That poor lady has to be scared out of her wits by all this. No wonder she wanted Louise to take everything. She probably thought Louise had sent some hit men out to get her.''
''I can see why she might have thought that.'' Michael murmured. He looked at the juice then he looked up at her. ''My arm's getting tired.''
''Oh,'' Kathleen let go of the glass. He took it, but before Kathleen could turn away, he caught her hand with his good one.
''No you don't. Come here.'' Gently he pulled her toward him, tugging until she figured out that he wanted her to sit. He wanted her near. She did what he wanted.
Carefully Michael put the glass on the coffee table and his hands around her waist. Then, with the most marvelously subtle moves, he pulled her down until her hands lay flat against his chest and her lips touched his lips. He kissed her lightly once, twice, three times and then he wasn't kissing her anymore. Michael Crawford was looking at her, smiling a smile that, according to her mother, should have banned him from the neighborhood for life. If only mom - and Cherie - could see her now. ''How are you feeling?''
''Nervous,'' she answered, not completely in her right mind.
''I mean how are you?'' He laughed.
''Sore.''
''Where?''
''My head.'' Kathleen dipped her head and smelled the sleep on him. He kissed her head.
''Anywhere else?''
''My shoulder.''
Michael touched the neck of her tee-shirt and pulled it away to bare her shoulder. His lips missed their mark and hit that fabulous spot just to the side of her neck.
Character Witness Page 21
