BETTER WATCH OUT

by Christina Freeburn

  “What’s his number? I don’t know it.”

  Jack shifted and pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, tossing it to me. “Use mine. Corn will block any number he doesn’t know.”

  The phone was locked. This was taking too long. The screen wanted a fingerprint. “I need your finger.”

  Jack reached his right hand back. I grabbed it and placed his index finger on the correct space. His warm skin was a sharp contrast to my icy hands.

  “It’ll be okay, Merry. He’ll be okay. I’m sure he knows how to handle whatever situation has happened.”

  “He was shot at!” I screeched. “He can’t deal with that.”

  “I’m sure he can. You might not want to know he’s trained for it, but he is.”

  “People don’t shoot at him.” Or did they? Lawyers made people mad, especially the kind of cases Brett took on. He went after those who abused their authority. “Oh God.” I couldn’t stop the wail from erupting from me.

  “Merry—”

  “Shut up, Jack, you’re not helping.”

  Jack turned down my street, tires squealing and the back fishtailing. Two neighbors stood on their porches, eyes directed toward my house. I leaned forward, the seatbelt digging into my shoulder and stomach.

  My carefully arranged front yard Christmas display was now a tangled heap of wires, beheaded reindeers, and turned over lighted-bumper cars. The world tipped. Amongst the carnage of my decorations was Brett. Lying still on the ground. One hand on top of Hammy.

  The car started to slow down. I shoved open the door and jumped out, nearly falling flat on my face and under the tires.

  “Merry!” Jack yelled.

  I righted myself and ran for Brett’s prone form. Shaky sobs escaped from me. This couldn’t be happening. How would I tell our children their father was hurt? Killed. “Brett!” I hopped over the curb, hurtling myself toward Brett.

  He started to rise and turn toward me. I was in flight and couldn’t stop my momentum. I slammed into him, knocking Brett onto his side. We laid side-by-side, almost curled together.

  I cradled his face in my hands. “Are you okay? Where are you hurt?”

  His hair was mussed. Brown eyes filled with shock. My body shook, and he attempted to draw me closer. I had to get a good look at him. Every inch of him. I scrambled to my knees. He rose up on his elbows, an amused and smoldering look in his eyes.

  He was fine. Totally fine. Not a scratch on him fine.

  I swatted at him, emotions a jumble of relief and uncontrollable fury at the man. “Why didn’t you answer me? Call me back?”

  Brett snagged my flailing hands and stood, tugging me up. “Calm down, Merry. I dropped my phone when I dove for cover and then stepped on it. It’s crushed. I also knocked the heads off your lighted deer.”

  “I thought you were hurt. Dead.” Sobs shook me.

  A soft smile crossed Brett’s face. He pulled me into his arms. “Honey, I’m fine.”

  I relented, relaxing into him and wrapped my arms around his waist, letting out the last of my tears. Brett wasn’t gone from my life. My children’s lives. I held on tight, listening to the sound of his heart.

  “I think your hamster is a goner. Some group of kids drove by and took out some of your lawn decorations.” Brett’s voice rumbled out, mixing with his heartbeat.

  “I guess requesting your police department send a SWAT team, or whatever you have that’s similar, was overkill,” Jack said.

  “Do you want me to flip the switch or not?” Cornelius’s voice came from the area near my front door.

  I left Brett’s arms. My front door was opened. “Someone broke into my house.”

  “I borrowed our kids’ key. I saw you hooked up my present and wanted to see how the hamster fit in with your other inflatable beings. I turned them on.”

  “You did what?” The screech in my voice didn’t have an ounce of fear in it. I was angry. Livid. “You can’t just go into my house.”

  “You invited me.”

  “You wait. You don’t use Scotland or Raleigh’s key to go inside.”

  Brett raised his hands and backed away from me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that would be off-limits.”

  “We’re divorced. Why wouldn’t it be off-limits? You can’t just go into my house whenever you want.”

  “You’re getting an audience.” Jack stepped between me and Brett. I hadn’t realized I’d been stomping toward my ex-husband with fists clenched.

  “Hold up.” Fire sparked in Brett’s gaze. “I have never entered your residence whenever. Even when our children lived at home. I respected your boundaries. Don’t accuse me of doing otherwise.”

  “You haven’t. Before,” I corrected my prior statement. “I just don’t want you thinking you can do so now.”

  Brett huffed out a breath and scrubbed his hand over his hair. “You invited me here today. I came to help you. Just like I always do. I’m getting the impression you don’t want me here.” He slid an unreadable gaze in Jack’s direction, pivoted and stalked toward his car parked in my driveway.

  Sirens grew closer. A lot of sirens. It sounded like the entire police force of Season’s Greetings was heading our way. One by one, four squad cars whipped down the street. The last two turning sideways to block off the street.

  “One of us should call Scotland,” I said. There was no way my son wouldn’t hear about this.

  “I’ll call if you loan me your phone,” Brett said. “I’ll tell him I was a little too concise with my report of kids and shooting. Left out Christmas decorations with a BB gun.”

  “From the tone of your voice, I thought it was your son in trouble.” Jack handed me my car keys.

  Now, Jack’s comments made sense to me. Scotland was a police officer and trained in shooting situations, not that I really liked to think about it. I tried to avoid picturing my son in his full police uniform, made it easier to avoid the reality that my son carried a firearm to protect others—and himself. I preferred not to think about the fact that my son needed a gun for his job.

  “Brett is my ex-husband. My children’s father.”

  “I figured that out.”

  Officer Brianna Myers stepped out of the car, adjusted her utility belt, and headed over to us. “Seems everything is in order. Someone care to explain what is going on?”

  Jack raised his hand. “I was overzealous. Thought an officer was in danger and turned out it was a hamster under fire not Merry’s kid. And it wasn’t Merry’s kid who was at her place anyway.”

  Brianna frowned. “Merry, has anyone threatened your children? If so, I need to notify his department.”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Let’s talk over by my cruiser,” Brianna said.

  I shuffled over.

  “Do you need me, Merry?” Brett handed back my phone. Jack, and quite a few of neighbors, waited on my answer.

  “Not sure,” I said.

  Having a defense attorney on standby was a good idea right now. I wasn’t sure how Brianna would view my not calling the police about what I remembered last night and taking it upon myself to scope out the church and the pastor and his wife. Fearing for my reputation seemed like a silly thing to have worried about as it was going to take a huge hit now. Even worse was the fear I felt believing for those awful minutes that Brett had been harmed because of me.

  Brianna faced me, arms crossed. “Since Jack Sullivan knows a lot about the incident, I’m taking it you were with him.”

  Did everyone besides me know that Jack was related to Cornelius? “You know Jack?”

  “Of him. He’s not really the topic of this conversation, why you showed up together is.”

  “He was with me when Brett called, and I heard shots in the background. Brett’s line went dead. I thought—” I couldn’t finish the sentence. Tears were clo
gging my throat.

  “You thought someone shot your ex-husband. Is there a reason you’d think that? A case he’s working on?” Brianna pulled out a notebook.

  “Because of the naughty sign someone left on my doorstep,” I whispered. “Jenna and Eric’s names were on one and they’re now dead.”

  “We’re going to find out who put it there.”

  “Cornelius didn’t see—”

  Brianna sighed. “I understand that Cornelius usually knows everything that’s going in your neighborhood, but the man does like his evening nap.”

  “Someone had stolen the first naughty sign I made for Rachel’s store. Rachel thought it was Jenna because she wanted to copy it for her float sign.”

  “We’ll check into it. We’ve pulled a lot of security footage from One More Page. I’ll have the officer reviewing them keep an eye out for who might have taken the first sign.”

  “Or Rachel had lied to me and no one had stolen it,” I muttered. “What if Rachel had put Jenna’s name on the first sign and then changed her mind about including it? She didn’t want to tell me the truth so said it was stolen.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “Because she was angry that Eric wouldn’t leave her and wanted to embarrass Jenna.”

  “Jenna wasn’t one to toy with.” Brianna scribbled something onto her notepad.

  “Exactly. Rachel came to her senses and asked for a new sign and threw that one away. Once Jenna was killed, Rachel put the old sign back up and hid the unaltered sign. The one with Jenna’s name was placed there during the parade. It had to be a quick switch. Then she threw both of them away. Sarah took the one that didn’t have Jenna and Eric’s name on it.” I tapped down my building excitement at having figured it out. “She added my name on to it to scare me, hoping I’d cover the shortfall in the town’s budget.”

  “Sarah? Why in the world do you think she did it?”

  “Because I found her scarf in the garbage bin along with the sign that had Eric and Jenna’s names. I think Pastor Heath took the money from the town and she was trying to cover for him. You should check out the church’s new sound system and van.”

  “We’ll look into this, Merry. We need you to stay clear of the Heaths and anyone else who might be involved in this matter.”

  I wrapped my arms around myself. The chill in the air was getting to me. “What about Rachel? How much trouble is she in?”

  “She committed a crime, Merry. There’s no other way to look at it.”

  I was hoping there would be. “I think Eric threatened her.”

  “We got this. The truth will come out and if a judge thinks Rachel’s circumstance deserves some mercy or leniency, it’ll happen.”

  “But if not...”

  “It’s out of our hands, Merry,” Brianna said.

  “Everything okay?” Brett called out to us.

  I nodded as Brianna headed to speak with Jack.

  “I’ve given my statement,” Brett said. “No reason for me to stick around.”

  “Wait, Brett.” I jogged to him. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. I was so scared driving over here. I thought something happened to you.”

  “I’m fine, and that seemed to tick you off.” Brett crossed his arm and leaned against his car. “I’m confused by you. You invite me over, forget, and get mad at me. We’ve been talking all the time, and I thought that you were giving signals regarding a possible us. I was wrong.”

  I let out a breath. “If I have been, I’m sorry. I trust you more than anyone, Brett. I guess I’ve been leaning on you more than I should.”

  “Don’t say that.” Brett reached out to tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear. I moved back.

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Are doing for me.”

  Brett and I stared into each other’s eyes. I had hurt him. Confused him. Heck, I was confused myself. I had been absolutely terrified thinking something happened to Brett. That he was gone. I didn’t want him gone permanently from my life, but I wasn’t sure I wanted him to be such an active part of it either. Which meant, I couldn’t keep relying on him—reeling him in and then throwing him back. It wasn’t fair to Brett. He was a great guy and deserved better.

  “I should work with someone else,” I said.

  “That’s probably for the best.” Brett unlocked his car door and leaned inside, pulling out a stack of papers from a briefcase. “For some good news, one of the issues is over with. I pulled some strings and got this for you today rather than waiting until tomorrow. You were divorced from Samuel when he died.”

  I took the papers from Brett. I was divorced. “Positively?”

  “Yes. I was able to compile enough evidence to show you had believed you were divorced from Samuel and that was still your intention and wishes. That any fraud was perpetrated on you, not by you. The judge took pity and says it’s all good. Samuel’s signature and the date will be accepted. You’re divorced.”

  “But?” There was a tenseness in his smile. While this was good for my heart, this decision was liable to hurt something else—the disbursement of the lottery winnings.

  “If Bonnie can prove that her marriage was valid, it will call into question the ownership of the lottery ticket. Helen allowed Samuel to verbally claim it and a lot of people in town thought it was Samuel’s and then yours because…”

  “It appeared I was still married to Samuel. So, Bonnie will have a legal claim to the money.”

  Brett nodded. “Helen will have to prove it was hers and say that her son took it from her.”

  The first part Helen could do, the second she never would. There was no way she’d tarnish her son’s name, even though he had in a way bullied the ticket away from her. “Is there another option?”

  “You ladies figuring out an equitable distribution. I’ll talk to you later, Merry.” Brett stepped toward me for a goodbye hug.

  I opened my arms to receive it, the gesture second nature to us. Our gazes met. We stepped away from each other, nodding a farewell instead.

  Twenty-Seven

  Today was a disaster. I walked into my house and dropped onto the couch. Ebenezer squealed from his habitat and thumbed against it, demanding my attention. I tipped my head back. “Can’t you get out of there yourself?”

  He wiggled his cute little nose and sent me a look pleading for a rescue.

  “I’m coming.” I pushed myself to my feet, exhaustion sweeping over me. What I needed was a long, hot bath and binge-watching Christmas movies. What I had to do was set Ebenezer free for a while and get some work done. I was behind. I hated to ask Bright to handle more of our orders. Lately, it seemed I was getting good at using my friends to pick up my slack or clean up messes I willingly generated for myself.

  It wasn’t like the situations were entirely my fault. Samuel created the two issues Brett helped with: the divorce—now resolved, and the lottery ticket—still seeking an answer. The others I was running myself ragged with—Christmas parade, orders, and looking into a murder—were all on me.

  I plucked Ebenezer out of his zone of entrapment. “Let’s get a snack and you can run free while I get some work done.”

  His eyes lit up. There were two words the guinea pig loved: free and snacks. I tucked him under my arm and headed for the kitchen.

  My phone rang. I snagged the receiver. “Hello.”

  “Merry, this is Angela,” her voice was teary. “I was just calling…”

  Oh no. Angela and I were scheduled for a craft session today, and I had totally forgot. “I’m running behind schedule, I’ll be over in about ten minutes.”

  “Are you sure? We can reschedule. It doesn’t seem like today is a good day.”

  “No, it’s perfect. This was the first time I’ve attended church in a while, and it threw off my schedule. It was a spur of the moment decision.”

 
; “I wish I’d known you were coming. You could have sat with us.” Her voice grew softer. “I’m really sorry about not stepping forward to defend you. I wasn’t feeling well. I was afraid you decided not to stop by because of that.”

  “I’m so sorry I made you think that. My life has been in such a tailspin lately, and I always seem to be behind. I promise I’ll be there soon,” I said, running a list in my mind of needed supplies. “I just need to grab a few items and I’ll be out the door.”

  I ran up to my craft room, Ebenezer following behind me. Either he was hoping to sneak into the forbidden area or he thought the snacks were up here. I yanked open the door and flung open the closet: ornaments, vinyl, cutting machine. The list was growing longer and longer. This was going to take me forever. I’d actually get more orders completed by working on them in my studio than dragging everything over to Angela’s house.

  But I had promised. Bonnie had said Angela had been so happy crafting. It had given her some spark back and there weren’t many activities Angela could participate in with her heart condition. I couldn’t disappoint her. It wasn’t fair. I’d just call her back and tell her it’ll take longer.

  Unless I took the RV. Scotland had stocked it. I’d give the crafting space a test run. Angela and I could both fit in there. While I designed and cut out the decals, Angela could weed the designs and place the vinyl onto the ornaments.

  I unhooked my laptop, placing it in a bag with my Cricut, and grabbed a box of ornaments. I opened up the box and moved around some of the ornaments, making a pocket for Ebenezer. “We’re going on a road trip.”

  He ran over to me, excited about the tone in my voice. Usually that inflection meant a trip outside of the house. I picked him up and placed him in the box. “This will work to get into the RV, I have to think of a better way to keep you safe while I’m driving.”

  Would an infant car seat work? I envisioned Ebenezer in one, his little legs sticking up from the belt straps. That wouldn’t be a comfortable position for a guinea pig. Pulling out my phone, I emailed myself a reminder to call a local vet for advice on traveling with my buddy. I should have done it sooner, but it was better late than never. Uneasiness traveled through me as the word “never” filled my mind.