I answered before Danielle leaped at the opportunity to escape. “Why don’t you start with Erica since Danielle and I are just doing a final fitting? We shouldn’t require much time.”
Erica grinned. Tilly sighed. When both disappeared into the fitting room, I looked back out the window. Rich’s mother was gone, but Danielle’s fear remained. “How did Mother Lucas get to Indian Falls?”
Danielle blanched. “Rich was supposed to drive to Iowa and pick her up, but she surprised us by driving herself.”
“Why did she come to my house?”
Danielle looked down at her shoes. “She asked me about the wedding plans, and I mentioned the hairstyle and Erica taking over as bridesmaid. I went to get her a glass of water, and the next thing I knew she was gone.”
“Danielle.” I took a deep breath and waited for Danielle to lift her eyes. “Where was Rich’s mother two days ago when I was walking across the rink parking lot?”
“I don’t know,” Danielle whispered. “She said she was going to St. Mark’s to pray, but Rich never saw her.”
Holy crap.
“Danielle, dear.” Tilly’s voice rang out. “You’re next. You can come back, too, Rebecca.”
Neither Danielle nor I moved because suddenly the fear made sense. Danielle was getting ready to try on the wedding dress she would wear when she married the son of the woman who’d run me down.
Fifteen
“You think Mother Lucas ran me over?” I asked. “Why haven’t you reported her to the sheriff?”
“Because I don’t know for sure if she did it.” Danielle ran a hand through her hair and started to pace. “She came back from praying and was the nicest she’s ever been. She said the time in the church had made her reflect on how lucky she was to have a son who loved her and a daughter-in-law who was strong enough to stand by him through anything. It wasn’t until we finished dinner that I got Erica’s message about you being hit by a car and realized Mother Lucas didn’t have an alibi for the time the attack occurred.”
Danielle whimpered.
I opened my mouth to speak, but Danielle cut me off. “I don’t want to believe that Rich’s mother ran you over with her Chevy Tahoe, but I plan on finding out. If she did it, I promise I’ll turn her over to the sheriff. In the meantime, I don’t want you in harm’s way. That’s why I asked Rich to tell you—”
“Wait a minute.” I grabbed Danielle’s arm to stop her from wearing a groove in the plush gray carpet. “Mother Lucas drives a Chevy Tahoe? Was she driving that car when she went to pray?”
“Yeah.” Danielle wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Why?”
The Toe Stop’s new handyman, Deke Adkins, owned a Chevy Tahoe. The car wasn’t as massive as Lionel’s monster truck, but it ran a close second in height and width. If a Chevy Tahoe had clocked me, emergency teams would still be peeling me off the grille.
“Your soon-to-be mother-in-law is off the hook.” Although that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to keep my distance. The woman was scary. Still. “Unless she boosted a smaller car”—a crime that wasn’t exactly unheard of around here—“she wasn’t the one behind the wheel.”
“Really?” Danielle asked. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”
I wish. Knowing the identity of the crazed motorist was preferable to wondering when they’d try again.
“No.”
“So.” Danielle gave me a small smile. “Did I totally ruin our friendship, or are you still willing to walk down the aisle and help me get married?”
A normal person would probably stay offended or at least make her friend grovel before relenting, but I understood how much this wedding and the life she was making meant to Danielle. Besides, I’d just had an object lesson in how short life could be. I wasn’t about to waste time on anger.
Smiling, I said, “Just try to stop me.”
By the time the fitting was over and I was back in my sweater and jeans, I wished Danielle had taken me up on my offer. The U.S. military could adopt Tilly’s dress-fitting techniques to break prisoners of war. Hours of standing in high heels while Tilly adjusted, considered, and remeasured every centimeter of the hemline was torture. During that time, Danielle bombarded me with ideas to replace the broken table favors. Paperweights with Bible quotes (Rich had extras from the last church retreat), individual bags of potpourri, and personalized Hershey Bars topped the list. The last I thought had possibilities until Tilly reminded us that chocolate and white wedding dresses don’t mix. Bummer. By the time Danielle, Erica, and I left the store, I was hungry, achy, and in serious need of a nap. The last I planned on availing myself of as soon as I reached my living room couch.
Or not.
My sofa was currently occupied by Jasmine, Stan, and Lionel. Behind them stood several members of the EstroGenocide team, Brittany, and George. My grandfather was busy talking about his band’s recent rehearsal from the comfort of my overstuffed rocking chair. A colorful, albeit slightly askew, WELCOME HOME sign hung from the mantel.
When people spotted me, they broke out into wide smiles.
“There she is.” Pop got to his feet and adjusted his spangled jumpsuit. “I hope you don’t mind that I used my key. Jasmine and Stan wanted to be here when you got home.”
“You shouldn’t be alone while recovering.” Jasmine gave a toothy grin and glanced around the room. “I guess your other friends had the same idea. They even brought food.”
I wasn’t sure why being hit by a car warranted two tuna casseroles, three Bundt cakes, and a platter of cheese, but the buffet was well appreciated by the masses. So much so, in fact, that none of them seemed to notice when I snuck down the hall with a plate of munchies and my stash of pain pills. I had started to close my bedroom door when my grandfather appeared in the doorway.
“Sorry about the party. My phone’s been ringing all day with people asking how you’re doing.” Pop put a hand on my arm. “How are you really?”
I put my hand over his and smiled. “I’m a little sore, but I’m fine, Pop. Honest.”
Pop grinned. “Good, because I’ve been saying that it takes more than a speeding car to slow you down and that nothing would make you happier than helping catch the person responsible.”
Personally, I would argue that the speeding car did a great job of slowing me down, but the last part of Pop’s statement was true. I wanted to track down whoever had decided to play a live-action game of Frogger in my parking lot. Of course, to do that, I had to figure out why someone pointed a car at me in the first place.
As far as I knew, no one had been threatened or injured during the decade of investigation into the Thanksgiving thefts. Had I hit a nerve with the thief, or was Ginny’s killer concerned that I might have found something in her room? I’d been looking into Ginny’s murder for only a few hours before getting sideswiped, and I wasn’t the first one to go through Ginny’s apartment. Surely, if the murderer were concerned about what was to be found there, he or she would have targeted Sean first. Unless my logic was faulty, I took that to mean my investigation into the Thanksgiving thefts had hit a nerve. Too bad I had no idea why, but there was one way I could think of to help me find out.
“Are you and Stan still doing a photo shoot with Seth and Jan Kurtz?”
Pop’s eyes brightened. “Tomorrow at eleven. Seth wanted to do it today, but Jan is finishing up a set of mugs in ceramics class. Stan told them he’d need an hour for makeup and wardrobe and another hour to get the shots with the dogs. Seth is only bringing three of them, but that’s three less you have to deal with. If you need more time, just let me know and I’ll stall.”
“Stall what?” Lionel appeared behind Pop.
Pop turned. “Rebecca’s got a line on busting the Thanksgiving thief out of the water.” Giving me a thumbs-up, he said, “I’ll get the party crowd out of here so you can rest and be in top form tomorrow. Call if you need me to act as lookout. I can always ask Jasmine to be Stan’s assistant. You wouldn’t bel
ieve how those two have hit it off.”
Pop kissed me on the cheek, gave my hand a squeeze, and then disappeared out the door. After taking a bite of cracker, I took a seat on the bed and gratefully listened to the buzz of voices fade. The front door slammed, and then there was silence. Something I’d had far too little of in the last several days.
However, with two of us in the room, the quiet was unsettling instead of soothing. Wow, one of us really didn’t look happy.
“What’s wrong?”
“Do you realize that your shoulder was dislocated and that the rest of your body looks as though it was used as a punching bag?”
Duh. “I had to try on a strapless gown today. Trust me, I know.”
“Then why in God’s name are you planning on investigating the thefts tomorrow instead of staying in bed and resting the way Doc Truman told you to? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Don’t you realize the person who almost ran you over could be the same person behind the thefts?”
“I’m not stupid,” I shot back. “Of course I know that.”
“Then what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“My job.”
The two of us glared at each other. Tension crackled in the room. This wasn’t exactly the welcome home I’d been looking for.
Taking a deep breath, I said, “Look, I gave my word to Mrs. Johnson. Even if I hadn’t, I’d still be asking questions because it’s the only way to make sure I don’t get run over again. Whatever ticked off the driver isn’t magically going to disappear because I’m on the sidelines, waiting for Sean to make an arrest. I can’t just sit around doing nothing.”
“You can. What you’re saying is that you won’t.” Lionel shook his head and turned on his heel. “Get some rest and don’t do anything stupid.”
“Lionel.” I stood up too fast, got a head rush, and had to wait for it to pass. Then I hurried down the hall to reach him before he left. The slamming of the front door told me I was too late. Lionel was not only angry, he was gone.
Damn.
“Well, that was entertaining.”
I jumped, felt a jolt of pain, and turned to frown at the source of it. “What are you doing here?”
Sean rose from the couch and tucked his hands in his front pockets. “Your grandfather let me in and invited me to partake of the food. I don’t think he realized I’d be getting a floor show, too. Lionel was pissed.”
“Your observation skills are truly remarkable.”
Sean walked over and put a hand on my back. “You should get off your feet. Doc’s orders were to rest.”
I let Sean guide me to the couch and felt my body sigh with relief. “How do you know what Doc said?”
“Because I asked him.” Sean sat on the arm of the couch. “He’s fairly certain you won’t follow those instructions, but he’s ready to readmit you to the hospital if he gets word you’re doing cartwheels down Main Street. So you might want to make sure whatever plans you’ve made that ticked Lionel off don’t involve that.”
“Did you hear our entire conversation?” I asked. The idea of running into Sean while peering through Seth and Jan’s basement windows wasn’t appealing.
“Just that it has something to do with investigating the thefts.”
“And you’re not angry?” Lionel was in the midst of an emotional meltdown, and Sean was being reasonable. What was wrong with this picture?
“Why would I be angry? You agreed to do a job, and you’re doing it.”
“What happened to reminding me that looking into crimes isn’t my job? It’s yours.”
“You’re right,” he said. “It is my job. Ever since I turned ten, I wanted to go into law enforcement. Everything I’ve done since was to make sure I achieved that goal. Despite what you might believe, I genuinely want to help people.”
“And you like parking in loading zones.”
A boyish grin lit Sean’s face. “Yeah, that part’s good, too. A guy has to have a few perks. Do you know how many phone calls I get about some dog taking a dump on a neighbor’s lawn or a cat getting kidnapped by aliens?”
Nope, and I didn’t want to. “If it’s so annoying, why are you working for the sheriff’s department? The pay can’t be that great.”
“I do it for the same reason you’re going to get out of bed tomorrow and do what it takes to track down a thief no matter how much you hurt. Because as unimaginable as it might be, the two of us are exactly alike.” Sean leaned forward and picked the almost finished Sunday-paper crossword off the coffee table. “We can’t resist a puzzle that hasn’t been solved.” He threw the paper back on the table and leaned his elbows on his knees. “It took a couple of months and a lot of antacids to understand that. I assumed Lionel would’ve figured that out long before me.”
I shifted on the sofa and tried to ignore the way my nerves jumped. “Lionel’s worried.”
“There’s a lot of that going around.” Sean’s blue eyes met mine. “Although don’t think that means I’m not going to get angry when you stomp all over my cases, needlessly put your life in danger, or withhold information that could help me close them.”
Oops. “That reminds me…” I pushed aside the prickly feelings talking about Lionel caused and then jumped into something equally thorny. “I found a note taped to the bottom of Ginny’s teapot.”
“You what?”
I breathed a sigh of relief when Sean stood up and stomped around the room, pontificating about withholding evidence. When he came up for air, I told him to stay put and then went to my room in search of the clothes I’d worn on my ambulance ride. My jeans were torn and bloody. Even with a good cleaning they’d be a total loss. I was just thankful the front pockets were still intact, as was Ginny’s note.
“I thought the first ten digits were a phone number, but I was wrong.” I held out the paper. “There’s no such area code. Also, the letters feel familiar, but I have no idea why. I’m stumped, which should make you feel better, right? Oh, and I should probably tell you that Danielle Martinez thought there was a chance her almost mother-in-law ran me over with her car. Mrs. Lucas drives a Chevy Tahoe, which takes her out of the running, but I figured I should mention it. Just in case.”
“In case of what?” Sean asked, taking the slip of paper out of my hands.
“In case I’m wrong.”
Sixteen
A long, very hot shower and twelve hours of sleep made me feel far better than I had the day before. The lack of communication from Lionel since he’d stormed out did not. I glanced at the phone a dozen times while getting dressed, waiting for it to ring. When it didn’t, I punched in Lionel’s number as Sean’s words from last night echoed in my head. Frowning, I pocketed the phone before hitting SEND.
Lionel said he loved me. That was great, but I wanted more. I wanted him to “get” me. To understand I couldn’t just wait around for things to happen. Too much of my life had been spent that way. It started with my father leaving. After Stan walked out of my life, I stopped thinking about what I wanted. Instead, I made choices based on what other people told me to do. Competing at artistic skating meets. Going to prom in a hideous pink dress. Picking a college my mother didn’t feel was too far away. For the longest time, I’d told myself that Chicago was my way of breaking free, but Jasmine was right. I chose Chicago because Jasmine asked me to. Investigating the Thanksgiving Day thefts might not be the safest decision, but it was my choice and mine alone. Since danger could be involved, it would be best if I faced that danger prepared.
I rummaged through my fridge, pulled out bacon, and then found a frying pan. My stomach growled at the first whiff. I grabbed a bagel and pretended I wasn’t interested in the crispy salt-laden pork. I needed all the bacon I could get if I had hopes of escaping this next adventure with all my limbs intact.
George was in the middle of the rink, teaching eight toddlers how to coast. Parents on the sidelines waved. A few asked how I was recovering from my “accident,” and I assured them of my recupe
ration as I waited for class to end. When it did, George zoomed over and instructed me not to worry. Everything at the rink was under control and I should take the next several days off. If there was a problem, he’d call. The guy was the best nonmanager ever. Maybe he’d finally let me give him the official title as a Christmas present.
The sun was shining. According to my dashboard readout, the temperature was hovering in the midfifties. It was a beautiful day for breaking and entering.
A Santa scarecrow greeted me as I pulled into the Kurtzes’ driveway. The car clock read ten minutes past eleven. I cut the engine and listened for the sounds of angry growls. Nothing. Maybe Seth decided to take all the dogs with him after all. A quick call to Pop burst my burgling bubble. Seth, Jan, and their three favorite furry friends were getting ready for their close-up. The rest of the canine clan was still in residence. If I went through with this, the bacon was going to come in handy. If not—well, I’d get a BLT out of the deal.
Before I lost my nerve, I strode to the side of the house in search of a basement window to peer through. The first three window wells I came to were filled with dirt and the dried remains of this year’s crop of annuals. Apparently, Jan and Seth thought window boxes were passé. I circled to the back of the house and frowned. The two windows that weren’t being used to cultivate flowers were painted black. The only way I was going to find out what was hidden in the basement was to get inside.
The back door was locked, and Seth and Jan didn’t appear to be the key-under-the-mat or the fake-rock type of people. Now what?
I walked to the front of the house and glanced up and down the road. No cars were in sight. The only farmhouse within shouting distance was Bryan and Reginald’s place. No one was around to report my actions. Time to start testing the locks on windows and pray Stan and my grandfather were right about the lack of an alarm.