Chapter 99
We stood there a moment, me in his arms, his breath in my hair. My fear dissipated, replaced with another reaction.
"What were you lookin' for in the shed?" Joe finally broke the silence.
"The radio, but I couldn't quite reach it."
Joe dropped his arms and went into the shed. "On the top shelf?"
"Yeah."
He emerged from the shed with the radio in his hand. It was old and encrusted in dirt. "Is this what you were after?" He held it out.
I nodded and took it from him. "Yes, thanks."
"Need anything else?"
I shook my head, still having trouble forming words.
He closed the shed and we walked in silence to my side door. I expected him to say something about the other night, to try to explain himself again. I'd listen this time, but he didn't.
I reached for the doork.n.o.b. "Thanks...I think." He helped me, but only after he scared the tarnation out of me.
"I'm sorry. I really was trying to help."
I hesitated, not ready for him to leave yet. "Would you like to come in?"
An array of emotions played across his face. First, happiness, from the way his eyes lit up. Then indecision dimmed the gleam. And at last, resignation. "I can't. I'm sorry."
"Oh...okay."
"I'm right next door if you need me." It came out as kind of a sigh.
I didn't answer, just went in and shut the door behind me. I took a couple of deep breaths while I tried to slow my racing heart.
I was too late. He'd changed his mind. I set the radio on the table, no longer wanting to dance.
I tossed and turned in bed, shadowy images haunting my sleep. I dreamed I heard gla.s.s breaking. And then realized I wasn't dreaming. I sat up in bed, straining to listen. Just when I was about to lay back down, I heard the creak of a window, the wood sc.r.a.ping the frame as it opened.
I jumped out of bed and stood in the doorway, trying to determine where the sound came from. Momma's room. I bolted down the hall and into her room, just as a dark figure dressed in black and wearing a stocking cap stuck his leg through the window. I screamed. He jerked his head up, whacking it into the window frame. I grabbed a broom I had left in the room when Violet and I cleaned and started beating the prowler, who hung half in and half out of the opening. My wild swinging broke the gla.s.s in the upper window.
The burglar worked himself out the window and fell to the ground, scrambling up and bolting toward Joe's house. It took me a second to realize I was still screaming.
Get a grip, Rose. He's gone.
I tried to turn on the lights, but whoever broke in must have cut the electricity. Again. I heard pounding on the side door, causing my panic to return. What if the intruder was trying to get in the side door?
"Rose!" Joe shouted between the banging. "If you don't open this door, I'm gonna break it down!"
Relieved, I shouted, "I'm comin', give me a second."
I fumbled with the locks and turned the k.n.o.b just as Joe burst through, half-naked. He stood in front of me wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts.
"Are you okay? I heard you screaming and when I got outside, I saw someone running from your house. I tackled him, but he knocked me off and got away."
In the dim light of the streetlamp pouring through the window, I saw multiple sc.r.a.pes covering his head and back.
"I'm fine," I said, trying to settle down. "I heard someone breaking in and found them halfway in the window, so I beat them with a broom ' til they fell out."
"Why would you do that? Why didn't you run away?"
I hadn't stopped long enough to reason it out. Joe was right. I should have run away, or at least called the police. More than likely, the person climbing through my window meant to kill me. I began to shake and collapsed in the kitchen chair next to me. I sucked in gasps of air as everything got fuzzy, now an all too familiar feeling; I was gonna pa.s.s out.
Joe figured it out as I did, kneeling beside me as he pushed my head between my knees. "You're all right. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."
The feeling subsided and I sat up, still shaking with fear.
"Can you call the police now?" Joe asked.
His question caught me off guard. "You didn't call them already?"
The contours of his face hardened. "No, I can't. You have to do it."
"Why?"
"I'll stay here until you call the police and then I'm goin' back home. Don't tell them I came over and don't tell them I chased off the person who broke in. Just tell them you beat them with the broom and they ran off."
"But why? Maybe you can tell them somethin' about the person."
Joe stood up and reached for the phone. "It's dead. You're gonna have to use your cell phone. Where it is?"
"In my purse..."
Joe grabbed the phone out of my bag, which still lay on the kitchen table. "I can't explain, Rose, just trust me. They can't know I was here. Can you dial 911 or do you want me to do it?"
I s.n.a.t.c.hed the phone out of his hand, suddenly angry. "I can do it. If you're gonna go, just go already. I don't need you, Joe McAllister. I fought the person sneakin' into my house off all on my own. I surely don't need you to press a couple of b.u.t.tons on the phone."
Joe hesitated, then pulled me into his arms and kissed me, making me forget that I had to make a phone call at all. He leaned back and caressed
Then he turned around and walked out the door.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
I waited for the police to arrive, alternating between anger and fear. What if I hadn't woken up? What was up with Joe? Did Daniel Crocker have anything to do with this? It seemed an incredible coincidence that he saw me in the DMV in the afternoon and that night someone broke in. But when the police took my statement, I knew I couldn't tell them anything about him. What would I say? "You see, officer, it all started when I had a vision of myself dead..." They'd just haul me away to the funny farm, although I wondered if it might be the safest place for me at the moment.
The police went out back and did all their investigating, whatever that entailed. I hoped at the very least the incident would take their suspicion off me for Momma's murder, but when I asked they wouldn't tell me anything. They were there for hours while I sat on the chair in the living room, dozing off and on in my exhaustion. When they left around four in the morning, I struggled with what to do. I was too scared to sleep alone in my house. I didn't want to call Violet and wake her just so I could get a couple of hours of sleep. Instead, I went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, which I realized I couldn't do without electricity. I looked over at Joe's house.
Why couldn't I tell the police he'd been there?
A niggling of worry slipped into my mind. What if Joe had something to do with it? I really didn't know much about him. Could it be possible? I dismissed the thought, burning with shame. Joe had been there for me when I needed him. He'd never done anything to make me think badly of him. Well, other than tricking me about his girlfriend. But that hardly made him a suspect in Momma's murder and the break-in. Sure, I found it odd he didn't want any involvement with the police, but plenty of people didn't like police. It didn't mean anything.
Yet, I couldn't completely let it go.
I got ready for work and took the fastest shower in my life, peeking around the curtain to see if someone had crept back into the house, waiting to attack. I wondered how I got into this situation in the first place. Why would anyone want to kill me? I wasn't a threat to anyone and I'd never even seen Daniel Crocker before that Friday at the DMV.
I left for work much earlier than necessary. Joe's car still sat in his driveway. I hurried in case he decided to come out and talk to me. I didn't feel like seeing Joe McAllister. I was tired and cranky and worried if he confronted me I might actually hit him.
Arriving at work over an hour early, the DMV parking lot looked barren. I laid against the headrest to close my eyes, for just a moment, and dozed off. Loud banging vibrated my side window. Startled, I jerked upright and found Betty standing next to my car. I rolled down the gla.s.s.
She peered in. "Girl, what in blazes are ya doin' out here?"
I told her about the break-in and my fear of falling asleep in my house.
"You sure don't need to be workin' today," she said. "Take the day off."
I had already taken a week of vacation time off the week before and going home was the last thing I wanted to do. Home no longer felt safe. For the first time, I considered letting Violet keep the house and moving somewhere else. Somewhere bad people couldn't find me. But leaving the county wasn't an option.
We were busier than usual, which could have kept my mind off my troubles. But the ringing cell phone in my drawer kept reminding me my problems were still waiting. I turned it to silent, but my drawer sounded like a vibrating bed in a cheap motel, which drew more than a few strange looks.
Between customers, I checked my caller ID. I had calls from Violet, my attorney, and the police. I asked Betty if I could return that one. Perhaps if I proved myself agreeable, I would look less suspicious.
I snuck off to the back room and called the detective a.s.signed to the case. He told me they hadn't come up with anything yet, but had more questions and wanted me to come into the station. Next, I called Deanna who admonished me for talking to the police without her there.
"I don't care if it's about a hangnail. If you talk to anyone with a badge, you call me first."
When I told her that my presence had been requested at the police station, she groaned. "Don't go. Just wait for me to set up a time for us to go together and I'll get back to you."
I still needed to call Violet and I needed to have someone come fix my window. And turn back on my electricity and phone. Plus, I could barely keep my eyes open from my lack of sleep. Betty came to check on me and I apologized for taking too long, tears in my eyes.
"Rose, go home. We're fine without ya."
I started to protest but stopped. I was tired and needed sleep before I faced my police interview. The first place I thought to go was Violet's.
I called her on the way over and filled her in on the previous night's activities, leaving out all references to Joe. When I knocked on her door, she opened it after the first rap and pulled me into a huge hug. I would have cried if I weren't so tired.
"Can I go lay down and take a nap?" I asked. "I've been up since one this morning."
"Of course!"
But as I walked down to Ashley's room, my phone vibrated. It was Deanna. I needed to be at the police station in thirty minutes.
She met me in front of the station, looking very professional but grim. "Don't you answer a single question unless I tell you to, got it?"
I nodded, wondering why she acted so concerned. Two hours later when we emerged from the police station I understood.
"I'm not gonna lie to you, Rose," she said. "It doesn't look good."
"I don't understand. Why would they still think I killed Momma after the break-in?"
"They think you staged it, because so much broken gla.s.s was outside the house versus inside. If the intruder broke the window to get inside, the gla.s.s would be on the inside."
"There was gla.s.s inside!"
"But most was outside, meaning the window had been broken from inside."
"I broke the window beating him out the window! What about the utilities being turned off?"
"They were cut with hedge trimmers with the name Gardner written on them and neighbors said they heard noise coming from your shed hours before the incident. One said they saw you going out to the shed."
My heart plummeted into despair.
"I'm going to ask you again, Rose, and I need you tell me the G.o.d's honest truth. If you answer yes, I can still help you but I have to know, one way or the other. Did you kill your mother?"
"No!" I nearly shouted, horrified she thought it possible.
"Did you stage the break-in to make it look like someone was after you?"
"No," I answered, more resigned. It looked really bad.
"There's a chance they're going to arrest you for your mother's murder and possibly other charges like filing a false police report for the break-in. The real question is if they will charge you with manslaughter or second-degree murder." She focused on something over my shoulder, lost in thought. "I think you'll escape a charge of first-degree murder, although you had the argument in the early afternoon and the murder occurred in the evening. They could very well accuse you of spending the afternoon plotting your mother's death."
I heard her words but they didn't sink in, floating on the surface of my consciousness, bobbing and teasing me with their seriousness. This couldn't be happening. Me, Rose Anne Gardner, accused of murder. I began to laugh.
Deanna's eyes widened in astonishment, then she patted me on the shoulder. "You're in shock. It's okay, it's a normal reaction, actually."
My laughter died away just as quickly as it started. "How much longer until they arrest me?"
"You're not a flight risk and they're still trying to piece things together. I suspect possibly a week, week and a half, depending if they find any new evidence. Everything they have is circ.u.mstantial. They're hoping to find a solid piece of evidence before they file the charges so they'll wait for results from the crime lab."
I wasn't sure if that made me feel better or worse.
"Go home, hang tight and wait. I'll give you a call when I hear something."
I drove to Violet's, later wondering how I had gotten there. I remembered getting in my car and staring at the steering wheel for what seemed like forever, and then I was in Violet's driveway, still staring at the steering wheel.
This couldn't be happening.
Violet waited for me at the door, having seen me pull into the driveway, actual proof I did drive. I looked into her anxious face, not sure what to say.
"How bad is it?"
I told her everything then asked, "Can I go take a nap? I'm so tired, I'm about to fall over."