Off in the kitchen, a spoon clanked against a pan. I smiled. My neighbor Dorothy must be fixing me breakfast. My stomach gurgled at the thought of food. I couldn’t wait to get some nutrients into my system. The fever had left me weak and groggy. It would probably be a day or two before I was back to myself.
I sighed. A day or two before I could get back to the business at hand, renovating the Victorian.
I thought about the months of work ahead of me, and waited for that swell of anticipation I always got midway through a project. The feeling never came.
Today something inside me felt different. Did it really matter if I gave the house a total facelift? It was kind of homey just the way it was. Maybe there didn’t have to be a master suite on the first floor with a whirlpool tub and walk-in closet. Maybe the bedrooms and bathroom upstairs were sufficient for some mom, dad, and kids. And as far as a rec room in the basement went, why not let someone who actually planned on living here decide what to do? Maybe a new owner would rather have storage down in the basement. I’d gotten a good start fixing this old place up. Someone else could take it from here. I definitely needed some time off. I needed a place to heal. Not Cancun, but someplace that felt more like home.
I swung my legs over the edge of the cot. I was wearing my oversized tee-and-shorts pajamas. I must have been pretty dead to the world if I couldn’t even remember changing my clothes.
I stood up, shaky and light-headed. I slipped a sweatshirt and sweatpants over my sleeping gear and walked to the kitchen.
I leaned against the doorway and shook my head in surprise. Brad stood in front of the stove, stirring some concoction. He bent over the pot in concentration. A red-and-white checked apron protected his jeans and heather sweatshirt.
“No, you don’t,” he said to the contents. The brew sizzled over onto the burner and sent up a cloud of steam accompanied by the salty smell of burnt chicken broth.
I giggled to see the oversized man hunkered over the rebellious blend.
Brad turned my way and straightened. “Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.”
“Hey, thanks. What’s cooking? I’m starved.”
“I bet you are. I’ve got some homemade chicken noodle soup for you.”
“Did you make it, or did Dorothy?”
“I’m insulted. It’s my own recipe.”
“Is it safe to eat or should I have my Tums on standby?” I asked.
“I see you’re back to your old self.” He tapped his spoon on the edge of the pan.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I hung my head. “I’m trying to turn over a new leaf.” Those were the same words David had used . . .
I pictured the spade meeting the side of his head, the sickening clunk at contact, and the thud of his body landing on concrete. I bent over double, sick from the vision.
Brad raced to my side. “What’s wrong? Here, sit down.” He helped me to the floor.
Sobs wracked my body as I let the memories come. Brad sat alongside me and let me use his shoulder for a Kleenex. He smoothed my hair, calming me. After a few minutes, I caught my breath. Then I asked the question I’d been dreading.
“Is David dead?”
Brad rested his hands on his lap. “He’s got a nasty concussion, but he’s still kicking.”
I nodded my head, relieved.
Brad tapped his thumbs together and continued. “David’s looking at deportation after he serves a reduced sentence for helping convict Rebecca. He can place her at the scene of the crime the night of Sandra’s murder. He even kept the shirt Rebecca was wearing when she killed Sandra. Fished it out of the trash for a time like this. With bloodstains and dried concrete all over the fabric, I’d say Rebecca is going to spend a long time behind bars.”
I remembered the dark puddle beneath Rebecca’s head in the cistern. “So Rebecca’s going to be okay?”
He leaned his head back against the cabinet. “She’s in custody at St. Joe’s Hospital. Cracked her skull pretty good, but she’ll recover.”
I guess I was glad she was still alive. She’d have gotten off the hook too easily if she had died. This way, she’d have lots of time to think about her crimes.
But that would be years of reform and reflection down the road. I should know.
I caught Brad’s eyes. “I guess I passed out. Who found me?”
“Jack. He was prowling around the basement window again. He saw you and Rebecca going at it with a shovel, and he ran to get me.” He nudged my shoulder with his. “And it’s a good thing he did. If you’d have laid there on the concrete much longer, you’d have been dead from fever.”
“Yeah.” I felt my forehead. “It cleared up pretty quick, though. I feel great today.”
“You’ve been zoning in and out of sleep for nearly three days. No wonder you feel better.”
“I was out for three days?”
“Completely zonked. Dorothy, Tammy, and I took turns keeping watch over you.”
I grabbed his arm. “How’s Tammy doing? Last time I saw her, she was on the verge of making a big mistake.”
“Everything’s okay. She’s back on track. And she’s giving you credit for helping her figure things out. David thanks you as well. You’re a bigger influence around here than you realize.”
It was nice to imagine I could be an influence of any kind, especially a good one.
Still, Brad’s words brought a tweak of sadness. I knew I couldn’t stay in Rawlings. Things hadn’t gone according to plan. But more than that, I felt a restlessness.
My cue to move on.
“And Sandra?” I asked.
“She’s tucked in safe down at Lakeside Cemetery. There’s a memorial service for her tomorrow, if you’re up for it.”
“Yeah. I wouldn’t miss it.” I paused, thinking. “Hey. Do you happen to know if she was wearing both shoes when they found her?”
“As a matter of fact, she was only wearing one. They found the other shoe, along with the murder weapon, behind the museum garage. How did you know about the shoe?”
I shrugged. “Would you believe me if I said x-ray vision? Anyway, I’m just glad Sandra will have a proper burial.”
I owed Sandra a huge debt. I felt free for the first time in my life. Free of my past, free of guilt, free to accept God’s love. I was only sorry it took her death to bring about something that should have been obvious all along. I snuggled against Brad’s shoulder, recording the moment for future reflection. My heart would have a rough time letting go of his always-there-for-me brand of friendship. And I knew I could lean on Tammy and Dorothy too, as I mopped up my latest mess. Loving David had certainly taken its toll. I’d put my heart on the line and ended up getting soaked. Only time could wring out my disappointment.
I angled my head toward Brad’s cheek. “How about taking me to church with you Sunday? I’m up for a new adventure.”
Brad drew in a deep breath. His arm looped across the back of my neck. “Tish. I’m so glad you’re safe.” His mouth nuzzled my hair. “You know I love you, don’t you?”
His words burned.
I pivoted until I was facing him on the floor. I looked into his eyes. They crinkled in the corners when he smiled. But he wasn’t smiling now.
I swallowed. “Brad. I’m sorry. I just . . . you know, now just isn’t a good time.” My voice died for lack of better words.
He pulled me close until my head rested against his chest. “Well, even if you don’t love me, you can’t stop me from loving you.”
I smiled into the warmth of his body. “Love me if you must. But I can’t give anything back right now.”
“I know.” He took me by the arms and held me where he could see me. “But I’ll be waiting for the day you can. After all, you’re the first woman to accept my invitation.”
