Convicted (15 page)

"No," she replied firmly. "You'd better go."

Terry sighed, letting his hand drop. "You won't even give me a chance, will you?"

"A chance for what?" She asked. "Sex? Terry, for God's sake, this is not the time."

"It's never been the time with you, has it?" He asked. "Not for me. Maybe for that greaseball loser...."

"You leave Deacon out of this," she said.

Terry laughed meanly. "It's a little late for that, isn't it?"

He was hurting, and she didn't blame him for his cruel words. She would not, however, get into an argument with him right now. Both of them were ready to say things they would later regret.

"Just go," Lisa told him. "Please."

"Damn it, Lisa," Terry said. It was the first time she'd ever heard him swear. "You're driving me crazy."

"Let's be adults about this, okay? It's late. We're both tired. We can talk about this tomorrow."

"You'd let him stay," Terry said bitterly.

That he was probably right didn't make it any easier for her to reply. "That's none of your business."

"Did you think that maybe he's behind this all?" Terry asked her.

"Don't start." Lisa pushed further away from him into the cushions. "Just don't."

"Your dad told me about the email you got at work," Terry said. "And now the phone calls. He's got a reason to hurt you, Lisa. Can't you see that?"

Unless she told him about the conversation she'd had with Deacon tonight, she could not explain to him why he was wrong. Instead, Lisa just shook her head. "I told you before he has nothing to do with this."

"No? He could've dropped you off, then called from a cell phone."

"And you could've done the same thing," Lisa snapped. "The call didn't come until after you left. You came back after it was over. It could've been you, Terry!"

She'd only meant to counterpoint his argument against Deacon, but her suggestion clearly infuriated him. Terry got up from the sofa and straightened his barely creased uniform. He even took the time to resettle his hat.

"I'm a police officer," he said. "My job is to catch the scum bags who do stuff like that."

He wanted an apology she wasn't ready to give. When he didn't get it, Terry went to the house's front door across the living room. He rattled the lock and slid the safety bolt into place.

"I'm checking all the locks before I leave here," he said sternly. "And on the windows. Campbell might be content to just drop you off and ride away, but I'm not."

She couldn't protest, not when she was glad to have him secure the house. "Thank you."

He nodded. "It's my job. And I love you."

It was the first time he'd said it. Thankfully, he didn't wait for her to reply. Terry checked the entire house with his swift and purposeful manner, and pronounced it secure.

"I'll call you tomorrow." He left her sitting on the couch.

Tomorrow.
She'd have to deal with everything tomorrow. Lisa looked at the clock, and realized with a groan, that midnight had come and gone. She no longer had until tomorrow; tomorrow had become today.

With aching head and whirling thoughts, she went to bed and fell instantly into a deep and blessedly dreamless sleep.

Lisa was working in a forge. Clang. Clang. Clang. She struck the metal bar with her hammer over and over, but it wouldn't bend. Wouldn't shape itself into anything useful. She tried to toss it aside, but it clung to her hand like it had been glued.

Clang. She struck it again, frustrated. Clang. Clang....

With a gasp, she woke. She'd been dreaming after all. The clanging she heard was real, and coming from downstairs.

Bright sunlight flooded through her window, casting dappled patterns from the tree outside onto her lavender comforter. The clang came again, but this time she recognized it. Somebody was trying to get in.

Allegra!
Terry had insisted Lisa bolt the door after him last night, and Allegra was locked out. Lisa flipped off the light summer covers and ran down the stairs to the kitchen.

"It's about time," Allegra groused when Lisa finally opened the door. "Why is this locked?"

"Terry made me do it."

Allegra winked. "Ah... Didn't want to be interrupted?"

"I got a prank phone call last night," Lisa said.

Allegra pushed past her and into the kitchen. She pulled open the fridge and scrambled around inside, pulling out a jug of orange juice. Without bothering with a glass, she glugged the juice and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Heavy breather? Kids asking if your refrigerator's running?"

Lisa shook her head, watching in distaste as Allegra put the juice back in the fridge and pulled out a jelly jar. She stuck her finger in and licked off the glob of jelly, then stuck her finger back in.

"Allegra!"

Allegra stopped, her finger in her mouth. "What?"

"Use a knife!" Lisa's entire body wanted to tense, and she forced herself to relax. "You're not the only person who lives here, you know."

"Duh." Allegra rolled her eyes and put the jelly back in the fridge. She looked at her sister, pausing to really pay attention for once. "You okay?"

"No, I'm not." Lisa went to the coffee maker and began preparing a strong brew. She felt like she needed it this morning. "I'm freaked out."

"Really?"

Allegra's speculative tone made Lisa turn. She caught a glimpse of sly mischief in her sister's eyes, then Allegra bent back into the fridge, hiding her face. Her shoulders shook briefly as though she might be laughing.

"It's not funny, Al," Lisa said. To her dismay, tears coated her voice.

Allegra's head popped up from behind the fridge door. Now the look in her eyes was concern. Seemingly real, but Lisa could never be sure. "You really are freaked out."

"Yes." The coffee pot burped behind her. "That's what I've been trying to tell you!"

Allegra took Lisa's hand and pulled her to sit at the kitchen table. "So why'd you stay here all alone last night? I thought Terry'd stay with you. He likes doing that sort of thing, doesn't he? Being all protective and stuff?"

"Terry and I broke up last night."

Allegra seemed shocked. "What?"

Lisa met her sister's eyes. "Despite what you've been telling Mom, Terry and I were not that serious. At least I wasn't."

"It's that jail geek loser, isn't it?" Allegra said grimly. She rapidly peeled an orange and popped a piece into her mouth. "Campbell."

Lisa sighed. "That's only part of it. Coffee's ready. You want some?"

Allegra glanced at the coffee pot and waved her sister to stay sitting. She got two mugs and the sugar bowl and rapidly fixed two cups of heavily sweetened coffee. She plunked one down in front of Lisa.

"You're an idiot," she said flatly. "Deacon will only mess with your head and get you in trouble. He's a criminal!"

Lisa held up her hand. "Don't start with me today. My love life is my business."

Allegra looked hurt. "Fine."

Lisa winced at the too-sweet drink and pushed it aside. "I'm going back to bed for a while."

"It's nearly noon," Allegra said, stunned. "You never sleep in like this!"

"I had a rough night, okay?" Lisa snapped. Seeing her sister's pout should have made her feel contrite.

Allegra sniffed. "Go back to bed if you're going to be such a grouch."

She got up from the table, leaving her used mug where it was. Of course. She flounced from the kitchen and headed up the back stairs to her room. Lisa heard the door slam.

She looked at the clock, then at the phone squatting on the counter like a toad. When would it ring and who would be on the other end? Deacon? Terry?

Or somebody worse--the person who saw everything she did?

Deacon fiddled with the air conditioning knobs in his mother's car. The tiny vehicle was already sweltering, even though it wasn't quite noon. At last a blast of cooler air sputtered out of the vents.
I'll have to do some work on the car for Mom,
he thought, still fiddling. Even though she could no longer drive herself anywhere, it didn't make sense for her car to go to junk.

Bertha opened the passenger door and slipped inside. "Sorry," she puffed, wrestling with her purse and a large plastic shopping bag. "Had to get some more things."

"Mom," Deacon said in exasperation. "Paula can go to the grocery store for herself."

Bertha snorted. "This is stuff for the kids, Mr. Smarty Pants."

Deacon's sister's two boys and two girls looked forward to Grandma's visits because she always brought cookies and sweets. Deacon smiled, shaking his head. For Bertha to go someplace without taking along something she'd baked would be sacrilege.

He shifted the bag onto the back seat. "Let me put it in the back for you.Ready to roll?"

Bertha nodded. "Thank you for driving me to Johnsonburg, honey. I know you have other things you'd rather do."

Deacon glanced at the dashboard clock. "It's early, Mom. I'll be back in plenty of time."

To call Lisa,
he thought. He hadn't wanted to do it earlier with his mother puttering around in the kitchen. If he could get Paula to agree to drive Mom back home later this afternoon, he could leave right after lunch and have the whole house to himself.

He wasn't quite sure what he was going to say to her. Last night still seemed like some sort of dream. Had he really kissed her? And had they really talked about starting over?

"Your mind's in the clouds today," Bertha remarked.

Deacon grinned. "I guess so."

"You gonna tell me why?"

"Nope."

Bertha laughed. "It's just good to see you smiling again, honey."

It feels good to be smiling again,
Deacon thought. He wasn't smiling two hours later, though, with a quartet of kids screaming in his ear and Paula telling him she couldn't drive Mom home after all.

"Joey has soccer practice later," Paula said. She and Deacon huddled in the kitchen, not wanting Bertha to overhear. "And the kids have plans with friends tonight. Bob's out of town until Wednesday. I just can't be running back to St. Mary's today, Deacon. I thought you were going to take her! That was the plan."

Deacon scowled, watching his sister fuss with the platter of cold ham she was serving for lunch. "C'mon, Paula. I have some things I need to do."

Paula pulled a tray of warm buns from the oven. She set the platter on the stove top and brushed her hair from her sweating forehead. Her expression was not pleasant.

"I can't," she said in the warning tone he recognized. "And don't push me on it. Those kids are already driving me bonkers and this heat is just plain nasty. I'm about ready to lose my temper, so please don't...."

"Okay," Deacon said, resigned. He patted Paula's shoulder. "Chill."

She flashed him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Deacon."

She pushed past him with the platter, indicating with a nod that he should take the rolls. Deacon put the bread in bowl and followed her into the dining room, but he didn't have much appetite.

He'd just have to call Lisa later.

Lisa had gone back to bed, but she didn't get much sleep. She just kept waiting for the phone to ring. Finally, just to pass the time, she decided to shower and get dressed.

She was glad again, that when she and Allegra had moved in together, she had snagged the only bedroom with its own bathroom. Allegra had to use the hall bath, and they didn't need to share. Lisa relished the privacy of having her own bathtub, especially with her sister's less- than-stellar cleaning habits.

She ran the water cool, since even with the fans on, the house was warm. The pounding spray felt good on the back of her neck and shoulders, almost like a massage. She closed her eyes, trying to let the tension drain away.

She nudged the water a little warmer and squeezed handful of her favorite shampoo into her palm. The bottle was nearly empty, and she frowned, trying to remember. Hadn't she just bought a new bottle? She lathered up her hair, scrubbing her scalp and letting the water rinse her clean. Her conditioner was the same--nearly empty. Now Lisa began to be annoyed. She was positive she'd replaced the expensive brand of conditioner just last week. She didn't use that much of it.

One disadvantage of having a shower connected to the claw foot tub was lack of wall storage. Because of the way the showerhead connected to the wall, she couldn't even hang one of those wire shelving units from it. Consequently, she kept all her bath products in a plastic crate that fit precariously between the edge of the tub and the wall.

Now Lisa searched the whole crate finding that nearly all the bottles were missing their contents.
Allegra,
she thought angrily. Her sister must be borrowing her things without asking.

The shower's soothing properties were useless now. Lisa rinsed and turned off the water. She bent to retrieve a towel from the small bookcase she'd set up between the door and the tub. Her questing fingers found only one.

"What is going on?" she said in frustration. She'd done laundry only a few days ago, including a load of towels.

Now she pulled out the worn yellow towel she'd had since living at home. Where were her purple-and-green striped towels? She wrapped the threadbare towel around her hair and stood naked in the breeze from the window. Her eyes scanned the bathroom finding the pile of towels heaped in the corner next to the toilet.

She muttered a curse and bent to pick up the first towel. It felt heavier than normal as though saturated with something. And it smelled, too, like her shampoo. Cautiously, Lisa pulled the heavy cloth away from the others and gasped out loud. Her entire supply of towels, all four of them, lay soaking in a glutinous mess of shampoo, conditioner and body wash.

She dropped the top towel back onto the pile and washed her hands frantically at the sink. Her eyes kept finding the pile even as she scrubbed. Lisa forced herself to look away, but catching sight of her face in the mirror was no more reassuring. She looked terrified.

Had Allegra done this?
But Lisa could not imagine her sister doing such a vengeful thing. Using her things, certainly, especially since she considered anything Lisa had to be up for grabs. But wasting it like that? No, Lisa thought, trying and failing to calm herself. Somebody else had been in her bathroom.