the one from David’s garage. But from what Brad said, it couldn’t have been David.
But who else would try to kill me?
I found nail clippers in a drawer and did my toenails while I waited. Mrs. Westerman had tweezers too, so I attacked my eyebrows to pass time.
Fifteen minutes passed. Mrs. Westerman knocked on the door.
“Here are your clothes, dear,” she said.
I took my things, still warm from the dryer, and put them on.
Presentable once more, I walked out into the living room.
“Mrs. Westerman, I don’t know how to thank you for helping me today.” I ignored Brad.
“Win that election, dear. That will be thanks enough,” she said.
Brad leaned into my line of vision.
“I was telling Mrs. Westerman about your campaign plan,” he said.
“I’ve always wanted to enclose my front porch,” she said, “but the Historical Committee would never approve it. Officer Brad says you don’t mind altering historic details in favor of modern living.”
I thought about the magnificent front porch that made this farmhouse a classic beauty. I shuddered. I could never allow it to be marred with tacky screens and cheap storms.
“There are some projects that are certainly allowable in historic homes,” I said. Removing my cistern was one of them. Enclosing her front porch was not.
“Wonderful. You can look forward to my vote come January.” She shook my hand.
“Thank you, again, Mrs. Westerman.”
“I’ll drive you home, Tish,” Brad said.
I clenched my jaw, holding back words that would strand me west of Rawlings.
I followed him outside. I got in the police cruiser and slammed the door. I tuned out the obnoxious chirp of the two-way radio. Brad started the vehicle and shifted into drive.
“Do you want to see where my car is stuck, at least?” I asked as we approached the gravel road that led into the woods.
“Is it up that road?” Brad asked.
I nodded.
“Let me get you home so you can rest. You’ve been through quite an ordeal. It’ll be easier to check out your car and arrange for a tow truck once I know you’re safe.”
Safe at home. That was an oxymoron. But at least I’d have some time to work in the cistern. If I unearthed Rebecca, Brad would have to arrest David. The police officer couldn’t ignore concrete evidence forever.
Ten minutes later, Brad drove around the back of my place. He walked me up the porch.
“Stay warm. We don’t need you getting sick.” He touched my arm. “Call me if you have any problems.”
I nodded, then went in the house.
I made sure the lights of Brad’s squad car were out of sight before I headed down the basement steps.
44
I beat the chisel into the cement with heavy blows of the hammer. A sledge would have made the job easier, but with no car and no time to lose, my mini-version would have to suffice.
Pea-sized chunks of concrete flew toward my face. I blinked and kept pounding.
The heat of late July left the grass brown and withered. Still Grandma lived on. And so did I. The scholarship money would dry up in another month, and I faced spending eternity at the Foodliner.
“Tish.” Grandma called to me from the bedroom. Her voice sounded weaker lately. “Help me, Tish.”
I turned off the faucet and dried my hands.
“Coming, Gram,” I said. It was almost time for medications, anyway.
In the bedroom, I bent and kissed her forehead. She’d wasted away until she made barely a lump under the blankets.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
Her skin had washed out to a pale gray. “Terrible. I just want to die.”
“I know, Gram. It’s hard.”
“Tishy, give me some more of those pills.” She pointed a crooked finger toward her painkillers on the nightstand.
I put the bottle behind the tissue box. “No, Gram, it says two in the morning and two at night.” The dose had increased with the pain.
“I know, sweetie, but I hurt bad today.”
I rubbed her arm. “I know, Gram. You’ll be alright.”
“No, Tishy. I don’t have much longer. I don’t want to feel this way. Just give me one more.”
My fingers twitched. What could one more hurt? I hated to see her like this. I wished she could just slip away in her sleep instead of suffering on and on.
“Okay. One more. Just this once.” I took out a pill and set it on her tongue. I held a glass of water to her lips and she swallowed the painkiller down.
“You’re a good girl, Tisher. Just like your mama.”
Wow. The nicest thing Grandmother had ever said to me.
“Thanks, Gram.” I fluffed the pillows and smoothed her blanket, sorry that she felt cold even in this heat. Then I went back to my dishes, praying she’d die that night.
“Ow.” My voice shattered the stillness of the basement. I looked at my hand. A black blister formed under the skin. I sucked on it, waiting for the sting to go away.
After a minute, I grabbed my hammer and chisel and went back to work, picking away at a crack along the surface.
“Coming, Gram.” I grabbed the pile of whites from the floor and loaded it in the wash machine. I wiped the stifling humidity of late August from my brow. Five days left before classes started. I hadn’t enrolled again this year. It was goodbye scholarships. Goodbye college degree. Hello life of menial labor.
I dumped in the laundry soap and turned the dial to start the cycle. I didn’t want to go help Gram. I just wanted her to die.
“Tish,” Gram called again.
I went into the bedroom. I fluffed her pillows without a word.
“I’m dying, Tish.”
“I know, Gram.” I swallowed a lump.
“I hurt, Tishy. I want to go home. Give me the rest of those pills.”
I picked up the bottle of painkillers and clenched it in my fist. “You already took your pills this morning, Gram.”
“Be a good girl, Tish. Open the bottle and give it to me.”
“Gram.” My voice came in a whisper.
“Tishy. I’ve lived too long. I hurt too much. Prove you love me and open the bottle.” Her hand shook as she reached toward the pills. Her arm dropped exhausted across her chest.
A tear slid down my cheek. Gram had always been a strong woman. She’d handled everything life threw her way. It killed me to see her lying here so frail, so afraid.
I rolled the prescription bottle between my palms. The pills made a tiny clickity-click inside.
She lifted her head an inch off the pillow. “Open it and help me take the rest.” She fell back, gasping for breath.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Grandma would be out of pain. I could go back to college. All I had to do was open
