Page 17 of Deadly Secrets


  Chapter 15

  Heath and I had gone on our first official date about a week ago. The baseball game proved to be a good night for all of us with lots of laughter and fun. Sam and Heath seemed to take to each other like the best of friends, and I took to Heath like a woman in love.

  As I sat in my rocking chair on the porch of my grandmother’s home, I admitted that to myself. I sighed and scrubbed my face with my hands, as I attempted to rub some sense and caution into that thick head of mine. Sadly, it was not working. Despite my nightmares of Flynn, my heart longed to throw caution to the wind and love Heath. My mind constantly threw up memory roadblocks. It seemed that the two, my heart and my head, waged a bitter war over my future. My heart ruled the daylight hours, and my head ruled over my dreams.

  During the day I reveled in the sweet kisses that we shared. My gaze might land on fresh flowers delivered to thank me for a lovely evening. Or I would smile at Sam as he recounted for the millionth time, frame by frame and minute by minute, our family date from Tuesday night. Sam was as in love with Heath as I was, and that fueled my uneasiness. Heath had called Wednesday night to check on Sam and me, but he’d also called to cancel our one on one date for Friday night. I was disappointed, but with emanate plans to reschedule, I had no real worries.

  I lived on the pleasant reminiscences of our other encounters, and in the feelings that continued to develop between us after all the years of missed chances. Then the weekend came, and still there was no word from Heath. Friday night came and went with Sam and me having a pizza and movie night. Sam, God bless him, was growing like a weed. In fact, he downed almost a whole large pepperoni pizza last night while we watched a Harry Potter marathon to celebrate the coming release of the last installment of the Deathly Hallows. To some people, this scenario may seem like a nightmare, but I loved it as much as Sam. After all, I must admit that it was I who started Sam on Harry Potter.

  That night once Sam was tucked safely in bed, I walked out onto the rear porch and looked out over the backyard. I really couldn’t see anything in the deep darkness that surrounded the meager glow cast by the porch light, but I was truly not trying to see with my eyes. I was seeing with my heart, and my heart saw my Grandmother toiling away in her flowerbeds, weeding and watering her beloved roses and gardenias. She lovingly tended her iris, tulips, butterfly bushes, and daisies. The backyard had been like a fairly bower full of fragrance and color. As a child, I had always wanted to play fairy princess when I went over to Nana’s house. In her beautiful world, how could I be anything else?

  But standing here in the night now, I could see the wonderful construction of a life lived to the fullest and love so strong that it could catch any hurt. That was the gift that my grandmother had given me, and that was the gift that my own parents had given me – a childhood free of fear and worry. I sighed. Now as an adult, those long held off fears seemed to be hurling straight into my heart. As a child I had been shy but not fearful; now as a woman, I was quaking in my boots at the thought of loving a man again.

  And that was what kept me up late, looking out over the past. It had brought me down to this front porch rocker before the first rays of dawn. I sipped at the cup of cooling coffee I held in my hand as I pondered my problem.

  The sun rose, and still I sat there looking out over the quiet morning street. I rocked gently pushing off the worn boards with one foot while the other was tucked comfortably under me. I turned my head slightly toward the front door. Yep, that sounded like dog and boy coming down the stairs. I chuckled to myself. Sam and Tub had finally made their appearance. From my perch, I heard the backdoor open and Tub barkingas he ran off into the yard to do his morning business and chase a few of the neighborhood squirrels.

  “Mom,” Sam called from inside what sounded like the living room.

  “Out here, Sam!” I called back, and out he trotted unselfconsciously to the front porch.

  He yawned and crawled up into the rocker beside me. I ruffled his hair. “How’d you sleep last night?”

  He grinned at me. “Great. I dreamed that I was playing Quidditch.”

  I laughed. “No more late night Harry Potter marathons for you, I guess.”

  Sam rolled his eyes at my ridiculousness. “So what’s for breakfast mom?”

  “Well, since Mike finished the kitchen Friday morning, I can cook pretty much whatever you want for breakfast.”

  Sam scrunched up his nose thinking in his usual way. It was so cute, but I would never tell him that because he would try his hardest to stop since he did not want to be cute; he wanted to be cool.

  A minute went by, and still no decision had been made. “Sam, I’m afraid that you have to tell me what you want for breakfast soon, or it’ll have to become lunch.”

  Again the eyes rolled. Where had the boy learned that? Oh, yeah, probably from me, his aunt Missy and his aunt Dana; we were the queens of eye rolls and gestures.

  I started to hum the final jeopardy tune just to see if he would crack. He did, “Mom! Don’t make me laugh…I can’t think when I laugh,” he complained.

  “All right. I’ll stop, but seriously what do you want to eat?”

  “I can’t make up my mind between cinnamon rolls or cheese biscuits and sausage.”

  I pretended to think hard on the subject; then I answered, “How about I make the cheese biscuits and sausage for breakfast, and I’ll start a pan of cinnamon rolls for later because they’ll have to rise about 4 hours before I can bake them. I don’t think you want to wait that long to eat.”

  Sam grinned at me satisfied with the results. “Fine, so when do we eat?”

  I laughed and climbed out of the rocking chair. “I’ll head in and start in the kitchen, and you go watch cartoons. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

  The new kitchen was gorgeous to admire and so easy to cook in. The new stainless steel gas range was a snap to light, and soon I had the sausage sizzling away in a skillet and the oven preheating for the cheese biscuits. A quick trip to the new stainless side by side fridge yielded up the sharp cheddar cheese and a can of biscuit dough.I dropped those items on my new white marble top island and plucked a baking sheet out of the new black walnut cabinets. Cooking even a simple meal like this was so much more a pleasure than a chore with these new upgrades.

  Before, the appliances were difficult, temperamental beasts that required careful cajoling to keep them working in any fashion much less in the proper order. The cabinets were so old and warped that fighting to open some of the drawers was a workout in itself, no need for the weight machines at the gym.I looked around my surroundings with pleasure; I had finally finished with the remodeling inside of the house. Mike and his team would be coming in two weeks to install a new tin roof, and then everything would be complete.

  I turned to the stove, flipped the sausage, and then added the cubes of cheese into the dough. The trick was to seal the cheese cubes completely in the center of the biscuit dough. If I didn’t seal the dough properly, then all the ooey gooey cheesy goodness would spill out of the biscuit. A quick check of the time and I popped the tray into the oven. Breakfast should be ready in about 10 minutes.

  I heard the faint sounds of Saturday morning cartoons coming from the living room. I was sure that when I went into the room, I would find Sam and Tub curled up together on the sofa. It was a typical Saturday morning in our home, and yes, finally this place seemed like our home. It was not the horrifying place where my grandmother was murdered. It was not the sick house where we battled Flynn’s cancer. It was not the place where Flynn had attempted suicide, and it wasn’t even the place of pain and humiliation that had become the end of my marriage. These walls were now what they were made to be, a happy home for a family.

  The smile was still on my face as I carried a tray of food into the living room. I handed Sam a plate of sausages and cheese biscuits and set a glass of orange juice on the side table for him. “Thanks, Mom!” was the cheer I heard, and th
at pulled at my lips all the more. There were so many reasons to be happy today.

  Tub looked up at me with his big soulful, sad eyes, and I melted for him too. “Okay, Tub.” I patted the floor and placed a plate on the rug for him. Tub was after all a member of the family, so why shouldn’t he eat with the family? Having fed everyone else, I plopped down at the other end of the sofa and tucked into my own plate of sausages and biscuits. My eyes fluttered in pure pleasure. “Man, these are good,” I mumbled to myself.

  We sat together and ate as we watched what appeared to be a marathon of Spongebob Squarepants cartoons. Oh, the joy and the pain! After the third episode, the phone rang, and I was only too glad to jump up and answer its siren’s call. “Hello,” I queried into the great abyss.

  “Hi, Miranda; it’s Dana.”

  “Hey, big D, what has you calling this early on a Saturday?”

  Dana hesitated and the silence dragged. “Hey, come on, Dana. Just spill the beans; you’re making me nervous here!”

  Dana cleared her throat. “Umm. I’m not really sure how to say this to you, Miranda.”

  I sighed, “Just tell me, Dana. You know I can take a hit and keep on ticking, so please just tell me whatever it is.”

  “All right. The thing is; it’s about Heath.”

  “Okaaayyyy. What about Heath?”

  “Well, do you remember how you said that you weren’t sure what he was doing these days because it sounded like he had quit the force?”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Miranda, has he told you what he’s been doing?’

  “Well no, he hasn’t. It came up at the game, but he dodged the question now that you mention it.” Fear started to grow in my belly. Whatever Dana had to tell me could not be good news.

  Dana drew in what sounded like a deep breath and forged on. “Do you remember what I told you about the missing person case I am working on right now?”

  I thought back to our recent girls’ night and nodded, “Yeah, you were doing some nosing around about some local drug rings and the disappearance of a teenage kid, right?”

  “Yes, that’s right. I was hired to investigate the disappearance of Lindsay Moffit. She went missing from a downtown rave that was sponsored by a local drug ring. The police and the FBI have found nothing, no trace of her.”

  I nodded growing more confused as the conversation went on. How could this have anything to do with Heath, especially if he was not on the force anymore? “I remember the news stories. It’s terrible about that girl, but I don’t understand what this has to do with Heath. Do you think that he knows something about her disappearance?”

  There was hesitation on the line, “Yes.”

  “Well, then the police must know what he knows too. I’m sure that he would have told them.”

  Again, there was silence on the line. “Dana, say something.”

  “Miranda, I don’t think the police know what he knows.”

  “Why?” I asked still confused.

  “Heath was fired from the force after some drugs seized as evidence in a bust went missing from the evidence locker. The bust was evidence against the drug ring that held the rave where the girl disappeared.”

  “What? Are you saying that someone set Heath up?”

  “No, I’m saying that Heath is involved in this up to his neck. I don’t know if he’s undercover or if he’s one of the bad guys, but I want you to be careful.”

  My chest was tight, and my breaths came in painful pants. “Oh my God, Dana, you think he’s a part of the drug ring and that he had a hand in that girl’s disappearance?”

  Dana paused and then forged on, “I think that is a real possibility given the information that I have been uncovering. I want you to be careful; whatever you do, do not tell him any of this.”

  “Why not? He might have a reasonable explanation.”

  “You’re right, but if he is involved, then I will be in danger, and so will you and possibly Sam. These dealers do not play around.”

  “You think he would hurt us, Dana?”

  “I just don’t know, Miranda. It’s best to be safe and careful for now. Please be careful.”

  I nodded even though I knew she could not see me. “Fine, I’ll be careful, but please let me know what you find out, okay?”

  “You have my word. I have to go. Bye.”

  “Bye,” I said in return and then stood woodenly rooted to the floor with the phone in my hand. My wonderful day had just been shot to hell.

 

 
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