“Huh?” She huffed, walking into Mr. Watkins’ outstretched arm. “What?”
“Shh,” the man whispered looking down at the door before him which stood slightly ajar. “Someone’s been here,”
Susan reached into the waistband of her jeans, and then shoved past David pushing the door wide.
“What in the world are you doing with that?” David’s eyes were huge as he noted the tiny pistol in the woman’s beautifully manicured hands.
“I always carry this,” she smiled gazing around her for any indication of an intruder.
“Oh no,” David groaned.
“Someone has tossed the place.” Susan sighed, making her way into the two-room flat. “It looks like they are long gone.” Slowly she slipped the little gun back into its holster at the small of her back and began scanning the overturned apartment.
Clothing, dishes, and papers were scattered everywhere. “Do you need to sit down?” She asked turning and taking in the ashen face of her companion.
“No,” David shook his head. “It just feels so, so wrong.”
Susan wrapped her arm in his, feeling the shiver run down his torso. “Come on let’s get your things and get out of here.”
“Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“I guess so,” Susan agreed, biting her bottom lip, something David was coming to understand indicated worry. “What if they come back?”
“David Watkins!” A shrill voice echoed down the hall, followed by a portly woman in a bright pink house dress. “What on earth is going on here? I heard the worst racket earlier. Don’t make me report you for having a loud party.”
“Everything’s fine, Mrs. Dodds,” David ducked into the hall. “Nothing to worry about. I just had a little accident is all.” He tapped the spot on his head where the large bruise stood out bright against his pale skin.
“Who’s that with you?” the woman poked her head into the apartment, her fuzzy curlers peeking out from under a silk scarf. “Oh, a girl.” The older woman grinned. “It’s about time,” she added, “but really don’t you think you should have cleaned up before entertaining? Young men these days,” she waved, turning and heading back the way she had come with a shake of her head. “You two keep the noise down now.”
Susan attempted to choke back the laugh that crept into her throat, but only succeeded in turning it into a snort. “Oh, my!” she gasped turning bright red as she covered her mouth this her hands. “Do you still want to call the police?”
“No, I’m tired. I’ll get my things, and we can go.” His voice sounded so weary and defeated that Susan barely resisted the urge to pull him into a hug.
A few moments later, he stood at the door a gym bag in one hand and a small metal box in the other. “Pictures,” he said sadly as he followed Susan back down the hall to her Jeep. “At least they didn’t take these.”
Susan Holmes was seething. She was so angry she could have spit, an expression that had never made any sense to her before this moment. Someone was targeting David Watkins for his investigation, and it convinced her, more than ever, that they were on to something. The question was, what?
She had doubted his insistence that his grandfather had been more than an old reprobate moonshiner. Everyone in the city had heard the rumors for years about old Harcourt Watkins and his moonshine still, but now she had her doubts. There was more to this cold case than either she or David had ever realized, and she was more determined than ever to solve it.
Susan’s very own grandmother had reported seeing the old man walking through the college, shotgun in hand. Now, she wasn’t so sure. She couldn’t believe that a feud over rot gut liquor would have led to someone stalking David all these years later.
They were missing something. Something important was just there out of reach, but they would track it down. Determination cemented in her soul, and Susan wouldn’t let it go until she had all of the answers.
“Susan, is that you?” Gram called from the living room where she was watching reruns of her favorite show, Matlock. “Did you eat?”
“Hi Gram,” Susan called dragging David with her. “I brought a friend.”
David turned, taking in the lovely profile of the woman next to him. Friend, the word echoed in his brain, smoothing over the constant drumming that had plagued him all day. “Friend?”
“Well we know you aren’t the enemy,” Susan smiled. “David is going to stay with us for a few days,” she continued, walking over and placing a kiss on her grandmother’s cheek. “He had an accident last night, and the doctor doesn’t want him to be alone.”
“Put him in the blue room,” Gram grinned. “It will be nice to have a man around the house again, even for a bit.”
“Thank you,” David sighed. He was tired, shaken, and worried, but determined to see this through to the end.
David dropped head first into the large mahogany bed, sinking into the soft mattress with a welcome sigh.
His head was spinning, and the dull ache that had been there all day threatened to grow into a crescendo of epic proportions.
So much had happened in the past twenty-four hours that he couldn’t begin to put all the pieces together. He had confronted a family who had looked at his ancestor askew for eons, had been nearly killed by a crazy driver, lost his life’s work, and found his apartment ransacked. None of it made sense even as it pointed toward some sinister plot.
Rolling onto his back, David stared up at the antique four-poster in the elegant room. Pushing himself to the edge of the bed,
