Quilting Mystery: Knot In My Backyard Part 22

Beavers looked at Crusher. "What is your role in all this?"

"I take the threat against Martha very seriously. I'm here to protect her from anyone who would hurt her." He leaned toward Beavers and said softly, "Anyone."

Beavers stood, turned toward the sofa, pulled the gun out from under the pillow, and laid it on the coffee table. "You know what happens to an ex-con caught with a firearm?"

How did he do that? He must have felt the gun when he was leaning on the pillow. Does he know Crusher put it there, or is he just guessing?

Beavers must have read my mind. "Windows on ovens. Reflections."

So he did see Crusher hide the gun!

I reached for the pistol. It felt cold and heavy in my hand. "I borrowed this from Ed to protect myself. Go ahead and check. This gun is registered to Ed Pappas."

Beavers looked at Crusher. "Uh-huh."

He could have arrested Crusher, but he didn't. He had just given Crusher a pa.s.s. I thought I knew why. Beavers finally understood I was in real danger and needed protection. Could it be he still cared, after all?

I put down the firearm, stood, and touched Beavers's arm with my fingertips. He stiffened ever so slightly. "So, what do you think, Arlo? Don't you agree there's plenty of evidence to indicate someone else killed Dax Martin?"

"You still haven't given me a motive."

"What about blackmail? Have you looked into Dax Martin's finances? Maybe he got greedy, or maybe he threatened to expose the corruption?"

"Maybe."

I tried to think of how to tell Beavers about Diane Davis and the other things Miguel had divulged about Coach Martin-without revealing the groundskeeper source.

"Look. I heard Martin was c.o.c.ky. Maybe he crossed a line with someone else's wife, someone high up in the school hierarchy. Maybe Martin was beaten to death in a fit of jealous rage. You should look into that."

Beavers crossed his arms. "Go on."

"Also, Martin was a bully who liked to throw his weight around. Maybe he p.i.s.sed off one of the parents. You know how pushy parents can be when it comes to their kids playing ball. Maybe there's a father who fits the description of the killer. You could look for someone who wears a baseball cap, has light hair, and speaks with a funny voice-like a stutterer, for example."

"Those both sound pretty specific. And you know this how?"

"As I said, Arlo, I've got people."

"What about names? Your people give you any names?"

"It won't take much digging to find that out."

Beavers shook his head. "This is vintage Martha Rose. Clever but devious. Always holding something back."

Look who's talking! What about your blond veterinarian with the perky tail?

Crusher walked to my side. "Hey, man. Show some respect for the lady. She stuck her neck out and did your detective job for you."

Beavers leveled his gaze. "What makes you think I don't already know everything she's told me?"

Crusher sneered, "Because, man, she was the one who found the witnesses while you just d.i.c.ked around."

Beavers studied the crystal vase filled with flowers on my kitchen counter. He looked at me with eyes both sad and hard. "Enjoy your evening."

Then he left.

I stared at the closed front door, torn between wanting to yell and cry.

Crusher put his arm around my shoulders. "Putz!"

I leaned into this huge man and let angry tears spill from my eyes. He stroked my head as I buried my face in his chest and left dark, wet patches on his blue s.h.i.+rt. Then he picked me up in his arms and carried me toward the bedroom. I wrapped my arms around his neck for balance, and he rumbled an approval from somewhere deep in his chest. n.o.body had ever been strong enough to carry me before. I felt delicate and cherished.

He placed me gently on my bed and lay down next to me, bending over to kiss my wet cheeks. I still held on to him. He kissed my eyelids. "This is my promise to you, neshamah. I will never make you cry." He called me by a word in Hebrew meaning more than just "honey" or "babe." He'd called me his "soul."

Then he brushed my mouth with a soft kiss, which turned wet and urgent. His hands and fingers read the curves of my body, and I s.h.i.+fted my weight so he could unhook my bra. If this was a mistake-and I'm pretty sure it was-I'd think about it tomorrow. For now, I closed my eyes and gave myself over to the comfort of Yossi's generous lovemaking.

CHAPTER 35.

Once our pa.s.sion was spent, Yossi Levy held me in his arms for the rest of the night. I woke up early in the morning to the sound of his soft snoring. I lay on my side with Yossi curled up behind me, forming a huge carapace, his heavy arm draped over my shoulders. Dawn would be breaking soon and then what? Was I ready for this? Was Beavers now a thing of the past?

Oh, my G.o.d, what have I done?

I quietly slipped out of bed and hurried into the bathroom. The sky turned from black to gray through the frosted gla.s.s of the window. Last night with Yossi was pure magic; but as day broke, I was terrified I'd just made the worst mistake of my life. I was pretty sure if there existed somewhere a handbasket labeled DESTINATION: h.e.l.l, I'd just earned a reserved seat.

I turned on the shower and stepped in. What'll Uncle Isaac think? He really liked Beavers. Oh, my G.o.d. What will I say to Sonia?

Later, in the kitchen, I stirred a large heap of diced potatoes and onions in sizzling hot olive oil while Crusher showered and made a couple of phone calls. Then he came up behind me and kissed my neck, tickling my skin with his beard. "It's all settled. I'm staying here with you for as long as you need."

All of a sudden, the room got very small; I couldn't find enough air to breathe. I turned to face him. "No, Yossi. You staying here is a bad idea. I think we may have just made a huge mistake. A spectacular mistake."

He smiled indulgently. "Babe, it was spectacular." He lightly stroked my cleavage with his fingertip and my whole body vibrated. "You didn't like it?"

I turned back to the stove and spoke to the potatoes, stirring as fast as the words tumbled out. "Of course I liked it! A lot! But that's the whole point. Now my life is more complicated than ever. I've got to figure things out. You've gotta let me have some s.p.a.ce here."

"This doesn't have to be complicated."

What had my uncle Isaac told me? "It doesn't have to be complicated, faigele. Love and trust. They should be simple."

Right. He hadn't just gone from dating a straight-arrow cop to spending the night making glorious love to a six-foot-six mountain of muscle-a mysterious ex-con/biker/lover/dude in a kippah.

And what about food? Feeding Crusher would require me to stir vats of food all day long, and I hated to cook. No, this could never work.

We ate a huge breakfast, starved after our marathon workout. How many calories had I burned? Then I brushed away the thought as unworthy.

At one point, he was staring at me with those hungry eyes. I quickly looked back at my plate. My head told me I should never again be intimate with Yossi Levy. I also knew that if he touched me, my body would volunteer a resounding You betcha!

"You cooked-I'll clean." He'd just slathered his fourth piece of whole grain toast in b.u.t.ter and jam.

As we cleared the table, the doorbell rang. Yossi motioned for me to stay where I was. He picked up the gun and slipped it inside his vest. He wore clean clothes he'd fetched from an overnight bag in his truck: black T-s.h.i.+rt, jeans, and a blue bandana. Yossi bent down to look through the peephole. He turned toward me and all the color drained out of his face. My heart started to race.

Beavers? Kaplan? Army Special Forces?

He muttered a four-letter word and opened the door.

Sonia!

She smiled at him; he looked over at me; I mouthed, "OMG!"

"Did you see her last night?" She took a tiny step toward him.

"See what?" He took a step backward, bare foot landing heavily on the wooden floor. His boots were still under my bed.

She looked at me. "The army jeep, of course. She drove by your house several times yesterday evening."

Crusher and I looked at each other. Army jeeps were the last thing on our minds last night.

He scratched his head. "Uh, I guess I missed that."

Sonia frowned. "I thought you were supposed to be guarding Martha. Where were you? I saw your truck here all night."

Neither one of us said a word and the silence deepened.

Then her mouth fell open and her eyes got wide.

I tried to smile, but my face felt all rubbery and fake.

Then she noticed Crusher's bare feet. "Oh, I get it."

I felt like a traitor. "Sonia, I-"

Her shoulders slumped and she held up her hand. "Never mind. I just thought you were on my side. I thought we were friends." She turned to leave.

"We are friends. I'd never deliberately hurt you, honestly. It's just that, well, things changed."

"Obviously." She stared at Crusher's bare feet.

Crusher finally found his voice. "You're a nice lady, Sonia, but I've always liked Martha. I'm sorry if I gave you a different idea."

Sonia sighed. "No, you didn't." Then she glared at me. "What about your cop boyfriend? What about him?"

"We're not together anymore."

She thought for a moment. "So . . . does that mean he's free now?"

I swallowed. I hesitated to mention that Beavers was probably spending all his free time in the arms of a lady vet.

I walked up to Sonia and took her hand. "Look, I've just made some fresh coffee. Why don't we sit down-I want to hear about the jeep."

She gave Crusher's feet one last disapproving glance and followed me into the kitchen. We took our mugs to the table, where the sugar and cream still sat from breakfast.

"Last night at eight, the EAP spotter observed a redheaded woman driving an army jeep."

Lawanda Price.

Crusher scratched the back of his neck. "What does EAP mean?"

"The neighborhood patrol put in place our enemy attack plan when we found out someone was after Martha."

I asked, "So you mean you actually placed a spotter on someone's rooftop?"

"Yup. Ron and Yuki Wilson's teenage grandson, Parker, hid on Ed's roof with a pair of binoculars and a walkie-talkie. It's a primo spot because the overhanging mulberry branches made a perfect blind for him to sit in. Anyway, he logged four pa.s.ses in front of your house between eight and nine p.m. He said she drove slowly, almost as if she wanted to be seen."

I was pretty sure Barbara Hardisty sent Lawanda Price to frighten me. Too bad for them. Instead of being scared, I was probably in the throes of a pet.i.te mort with Yossi at the time of the drive-by. My cheeks heated red at the memory. "What happened?"

"Ron grabbed his pistol and drove over in his Buick. Tony came separately on his scooter."

I was confused. "No disrespect, but what could Tony do from his scooter?"

"He brought a big camera and deliberately positioned himself in your driveway so she would see him taking her photo. It worked. She left and never came back."

Crusher raised his eyebrows. "So you drove off an enemy attack? Cool."

I was glad to see Sonia soften a little with his praise. Hopefully, she would come to accept a new reality that didn't include Crusher.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked.

I took a sip of coffee. "I'm not sure yet. Tomorrow is Dax Martin's memorial service at the baseball stadium. Maybe something will turn up there."

Sonia stood and looked from Crusher to me. "Mazal tov."

I jumped up and hugged her. "We're still friends, right?"

She nodded and went back to her house.

"Yossi, I'm thinking maybe I overreacted to Lawanda Price's threat. From what Sonia just told us, Price only wants to scare me. Maybe I don't need a twenty-four-hour guard. I think I'll be safe enough alone. Why don't you go back to your shop? After all, you have a business to run."

Not to mention, I need some breathing room.

"You ain't getting rid of me that easily, babe. Don't worry. I've got the shop covered. Wherever you are, I'm there, too, until the killer is caught." He gave me a meaningful look. "And long afterward."

I started pacing. Partly from anger about being stalked, but mostly from panic at his "long afterward" remark. "Well, I just can't sit around doing nothing. I'm thinking the best defense is an offense. I'm going to the Army Corps of Engineers office downtown and confront Barbara Hardisty. Once she knows I've already told the police everything I know about her corruption, she'll no longer have a reason to try to intimidate me." I turned to Crusher. "Are you in?"

He slipped on his socks and boots. Then he stood with the keys to his truck. "Babe, you've got enough stones to make you an honorary guy."