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"I'm proud of you, Jennifer," Bradford said as he drove toward my apartment. I wondered how proud of me he'd be if he knew Lillian, Sara Lynn and I were conspiring against him.
"Thanks, but I don't deserve it. I didn't have much choice. Honestly, I was scared to death."
"But you didn't freeze up," he said, "You did what you had to in order to protect yourself." I couldn't take another ounce of his niceness, not with what I was doing. "Listen, there's something you should know."
I was ready to tell him when he said, "What, that you and Lillian are looking into Maggie Blake's death?"
"Now how on earth did you know that?"
He smiled. "I am the sheriff here. I knew you couldn't just leave it alone, and when Lillian asked me to come to the funeral, it didn't take much to figure out what you two were up to."
"Sara Lynn's helping too," I blurted out, and that news seemed to surprise him. "How'd you manage to get her involved?" he asked, his gaze steady on the road ahead.
"Well, we were at Maggie's house last night and-"
"What?" he snapped. "Jennifer, you had no right. That's trespa.s.sing, and you know it. How did you get in? Did you break a window?"
So much for my brother's sympathy. I should have kept my mouth shut. "We had every right to be there," I said.
"How do you figure that?"
"Patrick Benson hired us to clean the place up and put Maggie's things into boxes."
"Do I even want to know how you managed to get that a.s.signment? Forget it; ignorance is truly bliss at fee moment." He pulled up in front of my place and shut the engine off, though Bradford made no move get out of the car. I normally parked in back with the rest of the tenants, but my brother had a mind of his own. "So what did you find?" I wasn't about to give up my hard-earned information that easily. "I thought you ruled it an accident."
Bradford swiveled and stared at me. "Don't be petulant. I'm the first person in the world to admit that I'm not perfect. Knowing the three of you, I'm sure you think you've got something."
I blurted out what we'd uncovered. "Some of Maggie's sc.r.a.pbooks were gone, her tools and supplies for card making were all missing, and we found a card she'd made about breaking up with her boyfriend."
"She could have given the tools and sc.r.a.pbooks away," Bradford said, "but I didn't realize she had a boyfriend. Who was the mystery man?"
"Jeffrey Wallace, the man who lives downstairs."
"Are you talking about the young guy from last night? You're kidding."
"No, I mean the other one," I said, not wanting to get sidetracked about who was appropriate dating material for a middle-aged woman and who was not.
"That still doesn't mean anything. People break up all the time. Do you have anything else a little more concrete?"
I considered telling him about Howard and Betty and my other suspicions, but I had even less solid proof about everything else. If the missing equipment and books weren't going to convince him, nothing else was either. "I'm working on it."
He shook his head. "That's the problem with this business. There are too many amateurs wanting to get involved without formal training. How in the world did you rope Sara Lynn into this? I thought she was more sensible than that."
"She's having trouble at home," I blurted out, silently asking my sister's forgiveness in my head.
"I know." Bradford nodded. "It's been brewing for a while."
"You knew about it and didn't tell me?" I asked; outraged. "I have a right to know, she's my sister, too."
"Take it easy, Jennifer; the signs have been there, for quite a while. I've been wondering when it was going to blow."
"Do you think it's serious?" I asked. Sara Lynn and Bailey had been married forever. I couldn't imagine the two of them apart, no matter what the justification.
"It's always serious when it goes on too long," Bradford said. It was obvious he was uncomfortable with our discussion topic. "So do you want some help with those two felons of yours?"
"Thanks, that would be nice," I said. I was perfectly capable of handling both carriers and my bag, but if I was being honest with myself, it might help me to climb those steps with my brother beside me. Instead of the sound of drills and saws upstairs, it in was dead quiet.
"I guess Ethan couldn't make it first thing after all," I said.
"Don't bet on it," Bradford said. "Do you mind if I go up first?"
"Lead on," I said. The vision of my shattered doorframe was strong in my mind, and I wasn't at all certain I could handle seeing it again. Ethan was sitting on the top step, spinning a set of keys around one of his fingers. "Took you long enough," he said, smiling at Bradford. "I've been waiting for hours."
"If you finished that fast, you didn't do a good enough job," Bradford said.
"Let's see you try to get through it, I dare you."
I looked and saw that the door was replaced as well as the frame. "That must have been a lot of work." "Honestly, it's easier to replace the entire unit than repair a frame, but that's not why I did it this way. Your brother insisted on steel all the way around." I thought about the bill and wondered if I'd have enough in my account to cover it. "Let me get my checkbook," I said.
"No need to," Ethan said.
I turned to Bradford. "You're not paying for this. I won't let you."
Ethan grinned. "He doesn't have to. I'm billing the owner of the building. After I leave you two, I'm trotting right over to Hester's to get my check."
"She's the realtor," I said. "She doesn't own the place."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Last I heard her name was still on the deed."
"But I thought-"
He cut me off. "Lots of folks around here think she's just sc.r.a.ping by, but Hester's loaded. She's worth a mint, and it's not just in property." He tossed me the keys, then said to Bradford, "See you."
"See you," Bradford said, bobbing his head for a split second in a country boy's wave.
"You never know, do you?" I said as I let the cats out of their carriers. They scudded away the second they were free, and I had a feeling they'd be ripping through the place, examining every fresh sight and smell until they were satisfied that everything was as it should be. I just wished it were that easy for me.
"You want me to hang around awhile?" Bradford asked. "I've got time."
I shoved his chest. "No, go on, I'm fine. I know you've got work to do."
"You kidding me? This town practically polices itself."
"Then you're grossly overpaid," I said, walking him through the new door.
He paused outside the threshold. "I'd trust Ethan with my life, but deadbolt this thing for a second, would you?"
I did as he requested, then heard him throw himself into the door. It didn't even quiver.
I opened it back up and Bradford was rubbing a shoulder. "It'll do," he said.
"Go on, you big goof."
Once he was gone, I deadbolted the door again after him. The place was remarkably tranquil after the events of just a few hours ago. Would I ever be comfortable there again? At that point, I just couldn't say. The clock caught my gaze, and I realized if I was going to open my shop before noon, I'd better get moving.
But I had a phone call to make first. If Gail found out what had happened last night without hearing about it from me first, she'd be crushed. "Hey, I hope I'm not calling too early," I said when she answered on the fourth ring.
"No, I was awake," she said, but I could hear her asking a yawn.
"I'll make it quick. Do you remember me telling you about Wayne Davidson?"
"The creep that works for your brother? What about him? He didn't make another pa.s.s at you, did he?"
"It's worse than that. He tried to break in last in night."
There was silence on the other end. "Gail? Are you still there?"
"Jennifer, what happened?"
"I took him out with my baseball bat," I said. "No big deal, but I wanted you to hear it from me first."
"There's no way I'm letting you get away with leaving it at that. Scoop, girl."
"I will later, I promise, but I'm running behind as it is. I just wanted you to know that I was all right."
She chuckled softly. "It sounds like you're a whole lot better than that. Call me soon. And Jennifer?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks for letting me know."
"You're welcome."
Forty minutes later I was ready to face the world again. Sometimes the only solution to a problem is a long hot shower or an equally cleansing soak in the tub. As I walked down the stairs, I saw Jeffrey's door start to open. I didn't know if he'd been waiting for the sound of my footsteps on the treads, but as far as I was concerned, his timing couldn't have been better.
"Good morning," I said. "Do you have a second?"
He nodded, and it looked as though my neighbor hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, either.
"Sorry about the noise so early this morning."
Jeffrey shook his head. "Nonsense, it's perfectly understandable. I want to apologize again for my delay in helping you last night." He cast his gaze to the floor, then said, "I thought I'd need reinforcements, and it took me forever to get Barrett to the door."
"He was busy," I said, not wanting to discuss his liaison with Penny. "I need to talk to you."
Instead of inviting me inside as I'd expected, Jeffrey stood in the opening, one hand on the door.
I looked at him and said, "Do you really want to do this out here?"
He glanced at his watch. "I really don't have time for a long discussion, Jennifer; I'm late as it is."
"Fine," I said, "we'll do it in the foyer, then. Why didn't you tell me Maggie broke up with you?"
He looked as if someone had hit him with a bat instead of Wayne. "I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered.
"Come on, Jeffrey, don't lie to me."
"I don't care enough about what you think to lie," he said. "Besides, it's none of your business."
"You're wrong there," I said. "Maggie made it my business before she died."
"What did she tell you?" he asked, suddenly very defensive. "Certainly we had our share of tiffs from time to time, but we were two adults in an adult relations.h.i.+p. Things were good between us."
"Then why did she make this for you?" I pulled out the card we'd found at Maggie's the night before and stuck it in his face.
He read the front, then opened it and stared at the words she'd written inside. "How do you explain that?"
Jeffrey's face was almost white. "I don't have to, not to you or anyone else." He took a step inside and slammed his door shut. "Hey, I want that card back," I protested. It was the only real evidence I had that there had been trouble between them.
"It's mine," he said sullenly.
I knocked again, but Jeffrey ignored me. So much for his urgency to leave the building. I could spend the rest of the morning waiting him out, but I was pretty sure that card had been shredded by now. I'd really blown it, confronting him without anyone there to back me up, and worse yet, I'd let him take what might have been the only real evidence I had against him. If it turned out that he'd killed Maggie and I couldn't prove it because of my negligence, I'd never be able to forgive myself.
I walked out back to the Gremlin and noticed an odd car parked behind Barrett's. It was a Trans Am I'd never seen before, but as soon as I saw the license plate, I knew who it belonged to. The personalized plate said pny urnd. pny urnd. How clever. How clever. I I wondered what Penny had done to earn it, then tried to dismiss her from my thoughts. I had other, more important things on my mind. wondered what Penny had done to earn it, then tried to dismiss her from my thoughts. I had other, more important things on my mind.
Lillian had opened Custom Card Creations without me, a fact I was thankful for. To my surprise, she and Sara Lynn were sharing a cup of coffee at my worktable.
"Good morning," I said as I put my purse behind the counter. "I'm glad you're both here. I only wanted to have to tell this once." Sara Lynn hugged me, and Lillian moved in on the other side.
"We're just glad you're okay," Sara Lynn said.
Lillian added, "I hope they fry him for this."
I enjoyed their embraces, then backed away. "I'm willing to bet he's in pretty rough shape after I hit him."
Lillian looked delighted. "Oh, I hope you broke a few of his ribs. I know how much that hurts; it can be sheer misery to breathe."
Sara Lynn asked, "When did you break a rib?"
"Skydiving," she explained. "I took a bad tumble. It was entirely my fault. But enough about me. Talk to us, Jennifer."
I related the night's events to them, trying to skim over the facts and leave the commentary out, but with those two, it was practically impossible. What should have been a five-minute story ended up taking half an hour, and by the time I'd declared the subject closed and off-limits forever, I was finished with it. If there was anything I could do about it, Wayne Davidson would never haunt my dreams again.
I looked at my sister and asked, "Don't you have a store to run?"
"My staff can take care of things while I'm gone," she said. "I've got good people working for me."
I hugged Lillian's shoulder. "I do too. Listen, I appreciate you being here, but I'd kind of like to let things get back to normal if I can, okay?"