Deadly Diaries

by C. E. Waterman

  ~*~

  That was awkward. Maggie twisted her hands on the steering wheel as she drove home. He’d obviously wanted to talk—why did she feel the need to escape? Was she ready to break it off? Why can’t the answer be clear, Lord? Why can’t I figure this out?

  She drove into her driveway, remembering something her aunt used to say. If you don’t know what to do, then do nothing. Float like a snowflake, she would say. Was she floating, or was she stalling?

  Allie stood in front of the open fridge, studying its contents as Maggie walked in the door.

  “Hey, sleeping beauty, how was your night?”

  Allie drew a comb through her hair, wet from her recent shower. “Good.”

  “Are you hungry? There should be eggs in there or cereal in the pantry.”

  “OK, thanks.”

  Was this what having teenagers around was like? How did you get them to talk? The phone rang.

  Allie tensed.

  “Maggie, it’s Jonathan. I thought we might play some doubles. Isn’t your sister a great tennis player?”

  “Yes, she is, and I’m sure she’d love it.” She covered the phone. “Jonathan wants to play tennis. Have you met him before?”

  Allie let out the breath she’d been holding, and her body relaxed against the counter. “Yeah, he’s good. I brought my stuff just in case. Are you playing, too?”

  “Well, he says we’re playing doubles, but I imagine it will be you two. I don’t know who his partner is, but hopefully, they won’t be too good. My psyche can’t take it.” She put the phone back to her ear. “On one condition, Jonathan. Your partner can’t be good. I don’t want to be the only one bumbling around.”

  He laughed. “It’ll be fine. Charlie’s close to the same skill level as you.”

  “Horrible then, I assume?”

  “Come on. You’re not bad. You have a lot of good moves.”

  Hmm. What moves was he planning to use on her sister? No wait. Didn’t he just lose his fiancée? Maybe she was being too hard on him. After all, there weren’t many tennis players in his league in Pinon Creek. He probably just wanted some competition.

  At the club, Maggie climbed from her car and slid her sunglasses onto the top of her head.

  Allie slammed her door, rattling the hinges.

  Jonathan approached from the visitor’s lot. A redhaired man with freckles walked next to him. Jonathan introduced him as Charlie, someone from work.

  “Which work?” Maggie grinned. “The construction company or the tour?” She looked around. “Is that what you call professional tennis?”

  Charlie laughed, and his eyes danced. “I’m afraid I handle bookcases much better than a tennis racket.”

  “He’s our carpenter.” Jonathan turned to him. “You’ll be working with Maggie on the design of the built-ins for the Spruce and the Aspen.”

  As Maggie shook his outstretched hand, the roughened calluses told more of his work ethic than words ever could. “I may want them for the smaller models, too. It’s funny how people expect a lot of storage in the bigger homes, but it’s the smaller ones that need it. We’ll talk.”

  His smile was genuine, and he clasped Allie’s hand gently.

  Maggie couldn’t help herself. She liked him.

  It soon became obvious the game was between Jonathan and Allie. After the first three games, Maggie and Charlie gave up and sat out, watching the other two do battle in a singles match. Taunts were volleyed along with the ball as the lead went back and forth between the players.

  Charlie’s gaze seldom left Allie. “Wow, your sister’s good. I’ve never seen anyone outside of a pro work Jonathan over like that.”

  True. Allie was in her element. Her blonde ponytail whipped around as she slammed the ball toward Jonathan once again. For the first time, Maggie saw him struggling to keep up, stretching to return her vicious serves. “I haven’t seen her play in years. I had no idea she was this good.” Or that Jonathan wasn’t as good as he talks.

  Charlie faced her, his smile gone. “I’m so sorry about your aunt.” Compassion tinged his light gray eyes. “Do they have any leads?”

  “They’d like to question a guy named Cameron Hayes. I understand he has a brother named Grady. Do you know them?”

  He watched Allie again. “Isn’t that her boyfriend or something?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know how serious it is. She’s only eighteen. I hope she doesn’t tie herself down yet.”

  He nodded. “I don’t know him, but Grady has a rough reputation.”

  “In what way?”

  “He runs with a tough crowd. They’ve been known to operate outside the law.”

  “You mean stealing?”

  “Maybe. I don’t have any proof, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”

  The match ended with a fierce shot by Jonathan to the side of the court. Allie stretched and tipped it, but it hit the net, giving the final game, and match, to Jonathan. They panted back to the bench where Maggie and Charlie waited. Allie’s blue eyes sparkled in her flushed face.

  Both Jonathan and Charlie couldn’t keep their eyes off her. This might be a problem. Allie had matured into a beautiful young woman, and George wouldn’t appreciate it if she returned with another romantic entanglement. Although come to think of it, maybe he would if it got her mind off Cameron.

  After showering in the posh ladies locker room, they headed for the visitor’s lot and wended their way past fancy foreign cars to Maggie’s old sedan.

  Allie flinched as they approached. “Hurry up, Mags. I don’t want to be seen next to this heap.”

  “Hey, this heap gets good gas mileage, thank you very much, and she’s reliable.” She unlocked the doors.

  Allie popped inside, sliding down in her seat.

  A light blue truck squatted in a corner space. Maggie craned to see the driver as she passed. But he reached for something below the window, and she missed his face.

  “Allie, what does Cameron drive?”

  “An ugly blue pickup. Why?”

  “A blue pickup drove behind us when we left the station the other night, and one’s at the club just now. I noticed because it makes my car look good.”

  Allie craned her neck to see behind them. “Is he following us?”

  Maggie glanced in her mirror but didn’t see the truck. “I don’t see him now. Probably my imagination. Has he been trying to call you?”

  “I don’t know. I have my phone off, so I don’t have to talk to either him or my dad.”

  “What if the police want you to?”

  Allie stared out the side window. “Rat him out, you mean? No. I’m not doing that. If they want to catch him, they can do it themselves. I’m not helping.”

  “If you care so much, why were you flirting with Jonathan?”

  “Flirting? I wasn’t flirting.” Her oh-so-innocent tone so perfectly matched her wide, ingénue eyes.

  Maggie scarcely kept from rolling hers. “Oh, come on. I know flirting when I see it. You don’t need to feel guilty. It’s not like you’re married or anything.”

  Allie crossed her arms and pouted her mouth. “I don’t feel guilty, because I wasn’t flirting.”

  Maggie glanced in her mirror again. “There it is, the same truck. He’s back a ways, but still there. I’m sick of this. I’ll find out why he keeps tailing us.” She made a sharp right, raced down the street cornering again and again until she saw him up ahead. There he was, easing around the corner, trying not to get too close. Flooring it, she sped up, chasing him around the corner. She honked her horn, making Allie laugh. Waving her arm, she yelled out the window, “Pull over!”

  He glanced back and gunned it, flying through a red light, nearly T-boning a dark blue SUV.

  Maggie lifted a shaking foot off the gas and slowed the car to a stop. “I guess that wasn’t such a good idea.” She drew in a deep breath. “I might have caused an accident.”

  “I think it was hilarious.” Allie leaned forward, trying to glimpse him bet
ween the moving cars in the intersection. “That’ll teach him to spy on me.”

  A few more deep breaths dispelled the vision of twisted metal and broken bodies. Maggie shook her head to clear it. “I have to go to a jobsite and see how they’re doing on one of the houses I’m designing. I shouldn’t be too long. I can drop you off at home if you like. Maybe there’s something on cable, or you can watch some movies.”

  Allie gave up her search and sat back. “Do you mind if I come along? It might be fun to look around.”

  Did she hear right? Allie interested in something other than tennis? “Are you sure? The houses aren’t finished or anything.” Maggie hoped she wasn’t wanting to run into Jonathan.

  Allie’s face shone. “Yeah, it sounds like fun.”

  Maggie changed direction for the jobsite. “I hope this won’t be too boring for you.”

  They’d already paved the development streets, but the area around the construction trailer remained gravel. “I need a revised schedule if the foreman’s around.” She shut off the engine and opened her door. “He’s pretty busy, so we may not be able to find him.”

  They climbed the wooden steps into the small trailer. Two metal desks faced the entrance. Mike, the foreman, reclined at the larger one behind piles of paper. His feet rested on a cleared corner, and he pressed the phone to his ear. His feet thumped to the floor when Maggie entered, and he beckoned them to a couple of folding chairs in front of his desk. A dusty film covered most surfaces, including an empty smaller desk, which, if she remembered correctly, belonged to his assistant. A door hung ajar to a room in the back, she assumed Mike’s office. He must like being out front. At a click, she returned her focus to him.

  “Hey, Maggie, who’s this?”

  “My sister, Allie. She’s visiting for a while. Allie, this is Mike Travis, the construction foreman.”

  “I didn’t know you had a sister. And a pretty one, too.” He smiled as he shook Allie’s hand. “You two here to see the Spruce?”

  “I came for an updated schedule, but I wouldn’t mind seeing how far you guys have gotten.”

  “We started work in the master bath yesterday. You’re going to love it. The colors look great.” He reached into his drawer and handed her a stapled set of papers. “Do you want to see the other houses? If so, I need you to wear hardhats. There’s still a lot of construction going on in some of the models.”

  She glanced at Allie. “Would you like to see them? They’re not very exciting before the finish goes in.”

  Allie nodded, and Mike retrieved two hardhats from a metal file cabinet next to the door.

  “I’ll go with you.” He grabbed his hat off the desk, dislodging a pile of paper, which slipped to the floor. He bent, scooped it into a heap, and dumped it on the smaller desk. “Laura’s on vacation.”

  Maggie winked at Allie, who stifled a grin.

  “Oh, how cute!” Allie paused by a three-foot stuffed dog, standing on two legs in the corner, a hammer duct taped to one furry paw.

  “Meet Buster, our mascot.” Mike opened the door for them, and Maggie wondered if she would always get this great service, or if it was due to her pretty young guest.

  “So, did you say some of the tile is up?” She made her way down the steps and across to the first house. “How is it possible? I just gave Edward the specs a couple days ago. You guys must be working fast.”

  “Our tile man finished another job early, and since you used materials from the design center, we had some in stock. The glass accent tile is up in the shower, and he’s starting on the field tiles.”

  The Spruce was the first house on the street. As they were about to enter, raised voices emanated from the house next door. A man strode out the front door with a clipboard in his hand. Jonathan Blake trailed him, screaming something she couldn’t catch.

  Mike changed direction and spoke over his shoulder. “Go ahead, Maggie. I’ll see you later. It was nice to meet you, Allie.”

  He broke into a trot but didn’t reach the group before Jonathan dashed in front of the guy and knocked the clipboard out of his hand. It bounced on the cement porch.

  “I don’t care what your stupid report says!” Jonathan’s screech carried once he was outside.

  The man lurched back, his body stiffening.

  Maggie couldn’t see his face, but she could imagine his expression.

  Mike stepped between them and made soothing gestures. He bent to retrieve the clipboard, dusted it off, and handed it back.

  The man jerked it out of his hand, swiveled on his heel, and stomped to his truck. He slammed the door and raced off.

  Maggie craned her neck to read the logo, but the angle was wrong.

  Allie’s eyes widened. “Wonder what made him so mad?”

  Maggie shrugged, leading the way into the Spruce. “Who knows?” Maybe this was good. Allie would see Jonathan like this and realize he wasn’t her type.

  The smell of sawdust and fresh paint filled Maggie’s nostrils. This model was almost finished. She wandered into the kitchen, which had been designed before she was hired, and ran her hand over the gray solid surface island. A stone backsplash covered the wall between the counter and the upper cabinets. She had to hand it to the previous designer—the effect of the different materials provided an interesting contrast.

  Allie disappeared upstairs, and after a brief glance around, Maggie followed. Country music drifted through the stairway, and tracking the sound, Maggie ended up in the master bath. Mike was right—the colors worked perfectly together. The aquamarine accent tiles produced a sense of serenity, which drew her to choose them in the first place.

  She poked her head in and knocked on the doorframe so she wouldn’t scare the rather large man standing in the tub, tiling. “Wow, things are coming along great in here.”

  He faced her, a trowel in one hand and a tile in the other.

  She raised her hand in a quick wave. “I’m Maggie, the new designer. Just checking to see how the colors look. Don’t let me interrupt you.”

  He nodded. “I’m Walter. Good to know ya.”

  She continued her tour. The other two bedrooms weren’t exciting, and floor tiles and fixtures were the only finish in the main bath. She caught up to Allie outside.

  “Let’s pick out the house we would buy if we could have any one we wanted,” Allie said, pointing to the biggest house in the series. “I like this one, and the lot is big. Let’s go see it.”

  “It’s actually two lots. The other house hasn’t been started yet.”

  “What? You’re kidding. I thought living in the mountains meant people understood the love of the land. This whole area is smaller than my backyard.”

  Maggie nodded. “I know. It’s a slice of the city right here in the mountains.” She flipped through the stack of papers in her hand. “We can go see it if we wear our hardhats. It’s the least finished of all the models.”

  Allie put her hat on, and it slid down past her eyes. She tipped it back, laughing. “This doesn’t seem too safe. If I can’t see where I’m going, I’ll have a problem.”

  Maggie laughed and snatched her own too-large hat off to adjust the plastic inside. “I can never get them small enough, so you may have to hold it on. Here, have mine, and I’ll try to fix yours.”

  “This is a little better,” Allie said. “If I hold it on, I can angle it back far enough to see.”

  They entered an obvious construction zone. Since the drywall wasn’t up yet, she could scarcely tell which rooms were which. When they passed into what would become the living room, the space opened up to a double staircase.

  Allie grinned like a child. “Wow, look, two sets of stairs in one. Why do they need those?” She began climbing up one side.

  “Just for looks, honey. One will end in the living room and one in the family room. Be careful now. Those don’t have any railings.”

  “Yeah, I can kind of see that, Mags.”

  Smiling, Maggie made her way into the kitchen. PVC piping s
tuck out of the floor, indicating where the island would be. It looked as if they’d made a mistake and put it in the middle of the room, but when the cabinets were in, it would all balance out.

  Allie’s footsteps tromped around upstairs, and her voice called dibs on the room she would choose if she lived here. Obviously, she would choose the master. Several thuds shook the ceiling.

  What was she doing up there? Redecorating? The laugh died in Maggie’s throat when someone screamed.

  10

  Loud thumps morphed into a huge crash.

  Maggie raced into the living room.

  Allie lay on the floor, not moving.

  Before she could reach her, something slammed into Maggie, knocking her off her feet. Flat on her back, she gazed into the eyes of a man dressed in black with a ski mask over his face. She blinked, and he bolted out the door.

  She raised herself to her feet, her hip and shoulder throbbing, and limped over to Allie. Scooping her phone out of her purse, she called for an ambulance and knelt clumsily next to her sister. “Allie, are you OK? Allie?” She didn’t dare move her without knowing what could be broken.

  Allie’s eyelids fluttered open. She shifted and cried out.

  “Don’t move, honey. An ambulance is on its way.”

  Maggie stood guard over her sister until the paramedics arrived. They splinted Allie’s leg and positioned her onto a gurney and into the ambulance.

  Several men, including Mike, had come running when they heard the sirens, and they stood around waiting to see if she was all right.

  “What happened?” Mike asked. “Is Allie hurt?”

  Maggie explained as she climbed into the ambulance.

  “I’ll meet you,” he said and ran for his car.

  She wanted to tell him he didn’t have to, but the doors shut, and they were on their way. She’d given in to her panic and called Greg while they were getting Allie onto the gurney, and she was already regretting it. Once she broke it off, she wouldn’t be able to call him every time she needed a strong shoulder. The thought was a funny one. Did it mean she’d made her decision?