Authors: Cynthia Hickey
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Lindsey Marie Steele!” I glared at my daughter. “What are you doing in my bed?”
Lindsey popped up like a child’s toy and blinked against the morning light. “You were in mine.” She scowled and scratched her head.
“Where else was I supposed to sleep?”
“What time did you come home?” I snapped my fingers for Cleo to join me.
“Uh. . .midnight?”
“
Wrong answer. You know good and well it was past curfew. The last thing we need is for you to get picked up because you’re breaking the law. Where were you?”
She ducked her head. “I had something I needed to do.” Lindsey swung her legs over the bed and rose. “It’s no big deal,
Mom.” She squeezed past me. “The dog’s great by the way. And you talk in your sleep.” Lindsey smirked. “I heard Uncle Duane’s name a few times.”
I couldn’t breathe. Was she serious? Robert never said anything about me talking in my sleep. Did I say anything embarrassing?
I talked about Duane? Not about the kiss, surely! “Oh, no you don’t, missy. You aren’t changing the subject.”
Lindsey shrugged on her way out the door.
Deliver me from teenagers.
Cleo looked up at me. “Some watchdog you are. Couldn’t you at least have barked when Lindsey got home?
Marilyn said you were a barker.” I plopped on the edge of my bed. My daughter had never given me a lick of trouble before this summer. Now, suspected of theft and caught in the act of sneaking out, I was at my wit’s end. My heart ached hard enough for me to clasp my hands to my bosom. What was I doing wrong?
Obviously my training ha
d been lacking. “Lindsey.” I stood and pursued her to the kitchen.
She slumped over a bowl of cereal, the latest teen mystery propped open in front of her. She grunted in acknowledgement.
I straightened my shoulders. “You’ll come to work with me today. No arguments. Be ready to leave in twenty minutes.” There. Tough love. I reached into the cabinet, grabbed a handful of M&Ms, popped them into my mouth, then spun and exited in as rigid a manner as possible. If I hadn’t knocked my shoulder against the doorjamb on my way out, I would’ve made my point better. Lindsey snorted behind me.
Twenty minutes later, a sullen Lindsey slouched in the Prius’s passenger seat. “I can’t believe you’re making me give up an entire summer day.”
“I can’t believe you stayed out past midnight without permission. Didn’t call to tell me you’d be late, and then lied about it. Don’t forget that vital part.” I backed the car down the driveway then headed toward Gifts from Country Heaven. “There’s nothing worthwhile to do at that time of the night.”
“That’s what you know.” Lindsey stared out the window.
Ouch. Since when did my daughter begin speaking to me that way? I’d get to the bottom of her behavior while sewing the rest of the Time-Out Babies. If I timed my question just right, I’d catch her off guard, and she’d answer truthfully before she could think of a lie.
I parked behind the store and cut off the ignition. Lindsey’s sullenness alerted me that bringing her with me might be punishing myself more than her. Oh, well. No help for it. I resolved to do whatever it took to be a good parent.
I read somewhere that if she hated me now, it was a guarantee we’d be best friends when she grew up.
After grabbing my purse, I slid from the car and waited for Lindsey to join me. “Cheer up
, it’ll make the day pass faster. You can stuff while I sew.”
“Oh, goody.”
As soon as we entered the store, I picked up the phone to call Stephanie and let her know where she could pick up our donations to her yard sale.
“Oh, thank you, Marsha. I’ll send over some
thing as appreciation.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m glad to be rid of the stuff.”
“No problem. Bye.”
Okay. I hung up the phone and rubbed my palms together.
Maybe she’d send over something to eat. I turned to my daughter. “I’ve sewed the doll over there. You can stuff it now, and I’ll get started on these others.”
Lindsey rolled her eyes, plunked her backpack behind the counter, and plopped her bottom on a stool. “Don’t you have anything more fun to do than this?”
“If a customer comes in, you can wait on them.” I slid floral fabric beneath the foot of my sewing machine. As the needle whirred up-and-down, I tried devising a clever way of asking Lindsey what she’d been up to last night. I couldn’t come up with anything other than the old tried and true straight forward question. “So, who’d you go see last night? Did you have fun?”
Lindsey paused in her stuffing of the doll’s leg. “I was alone, and no, it wasn’t particularly fun.” She set the half-saggy baby in her lap. “If you thought someone might be doing something illegal, what would you do?”
I pressed the foot pedal hard enough for the fabric to shoot through the feed and onto the table. Oh, pooh. Now, I’d be busy ripping out stitches. “Thought? As in not sure?”
“Exactly.”
“I guess I’d try to find out for sure.”
“That’s what I did last night. Or tried to anyway.” Lindsey
ducked her head and resumed her work.
M
y daughter turned the question back on me. She’d told me nothing about where she’d gone, or given me a good reason for breaking curfew. Who did she know that might be into something illegal? Did she have a friend I hadn’t met? Did I need to be worried?
My seam ripper jabbed my finger, drawing blood.
The spot throbbed in time with my heart. I dropped what I worked on and stood. “I’m going in the back to wash this. Watch the store, please.”
Lindsey didn’t look up as I passed.
A belligerent teenager was an alien species to me. Lindsey and I had always gotten along more like sisters than mother and daughter. Maybe that’s where I went wrong. I turned on the water in the restroom and stuck my finger beneath the flow. The water turned a pretty shade of pink as it swirled down the drain.
My daughter
had turned fifteen a few months ago. Wasn’t it a little too late for me to turn into Nazi mom? She’d always followed the few guidelines I’d set into place. Didn’t get into trouble at school, didn’t drink or cuss. I sighed and reached above the sink for a Band-Aid. With this new Lindsey, I found myself in foreign territory without a map.
The bell over the store’s door jingled, followed by low murmurings of Lindsey and. . .
the voice sounded male. I poked my head around the corner.
Billy Butler set a platter of cookies on the counter and leaned over to whisper something in Lindsey’s ear. She giggled. Her face reddened then she shook her head.
“I have something I need to do tonight.”
He pouted. “Are you sure? There’s a great movie playing at the drive-in.”
The drive-in! Absolutely not. I remembered those nights. Wrapping the Band-Aid around my finger, I joined them. “Good afternoon, Billy.”
“Mrs. Steele.
Someone left cookies.”
“Thank you, Billy.” I raised my eyebrows, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.
“Oh. Okay. See you later, Lindsey.” He dashed out the door.
I studied my daughter’s pink face. “Is he the one you suspect of doing something wrong?”
“Billy?” Her eyes widened. “Never. He’s wonderful, sweet, smart, athletic, handsome. . .”
“Okay, I get the picture. He’s the perfect boy.”
Lindsey and I reached for the cookies at the same time. My elbow clipped the tray as her fingers closed around one of the round treasures. The tray shattered on the wooden floor, mixing shards of glass with baked delight. I wanted to cry.
She shoved her rescued treat into her mouth making her look like a chipmunk. Sighing, I grabbed the broom from behind the counter and swept my disappointment away. My stomach grumbled, reminding me I’d skipped breakfast and lunch loomed on the horizon.
Once I had the mess cleaned up, I replaced the broom in its corner and grabbed my purse. “I’m heading to the diner to grab lunch. Want a burger?”
“Yes, please.” Lindsey wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “That cookie was good. Almost too sweet, though. It had alot of Cherry flavoring. Sorry you missed out.”
“Sure you are.” I shoved out the door and marched down the sidewalk. With the size of my hips, I shouldn’t be so upset over shattered cookies, but I loved anything with chunks of chocolate. Cherries mixed in w
ere an added bonus.
Twenty minutes later, I headed back to the store, richer by two juicy cheeseburgers and the best fries this side of the Mississippi. I stopped in front of Gifts from
Heaven to see Lindsey with her head resting on folded arms. Couldn’t I leave her alone for a second? I reached out to push the door open and noticed Stephanie headed my way. I smiled a welcome, wanting to know if she’d left the cookies so I could thank her.
Her eyes widened
, and her face paled. She pasted on a smile, and ducked into the dry cleaners. I shrugged. Maybe she’d already heard about the destruction of her platter and was upset with me.
I shoved through the door. “Lindsey?”
She didn’t move. Her eyes stared unblinkingly at me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Lindsey?” I shook her then waved my hand in front of her face. “Are you sick?” From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the cash register. The drawer had been left open a fraction of an inch
but to my eye it glared as wide as the Grand Canyon. Still, it took a moment for the facts to sink in.
Had w
e been robbed again or did Lindsey leave it open after waiting on a customer? I glanced around the store. Nothing appeared out of place or missing. Something was rotten in River Valley, though. The hairs on my arms stood at attention. Think, Marsha! Lindsey’s spaced-out look mirrored my own from a few days ago, too much to be coincidental.
Did someone waltz in w
hile my daughter sat behind the counter with glassy eyes? Using my shirt tail, I opened the register and peeked inside. Empty. “Lindsey!” I shook her again. Her head lobbed on her neck as her eyes tried focusing on mine. My heart leaped into my throat.
With another
glance at my daughter, I headed to the phone and dialed my mother. “Mom?”
“Yep.”
“Could you come to the store now? Please?” I chewed on my ragged cuticles and wished for M&Ms. She’d be livid and would most likely burn me at the stake for letting this happen again. “It’s very important. Something’s wrong with Lindsey.”
“Should you call nine-one-one?”
“I don’t think so. I’m not sure.”
She sighed. “Be there in ten minutes.”
I hung up and called Bruce then settled back to wait. Lindsey lifted her head from the counter with a tad more alertness shining in her eyes. “Welcome back.” I started to frown, then remembered my battle against wrinkles and fought to keep my face impassive.
“Huh?”
She blinked her eyelashes like hummingbird wings.
“Here’s lunch.” I slid the bag in her direction. “Did we get any customers?”
She shook her head and unwrapped a burger. “Not a single one. It’s been really slow.”
“How do you feel?” I took a bite of my lunch and wiped the delightful
flavored grease off my chin with a napkin. Why did everything that tasted good have to be bad for you?
“Fine, except for a headache.
A little bit of an upset stomach. I kind of feel out of it, why?”
“Because while you were sleeping someone robbed us.” I motioned my head toward the register.
Just like the time when I’d been alone. “You aren’t dizzy? Sick to your stomach?”
She shook her head as
her hand paused half-way to her mouth. “I was here the whole time. Honest. I don’t think I even left to go to the bathroom. How could someone come in and me not know about it?”
“I believe you, but I doubt Deputy Dog Bruce will.” With all the other accusations against Lindsey, he’d probably want to drag her to the station. An odd sense of de ja vu came over me as I remembered my own feeling of disjointedness after our last robbery. There had to be a connection. I just needed to find it.
Soon, before something more drastic than robbery and an accidental death happened.
My daughter tore into her lunch like a starving dog. I’d barely been able to hold my head up.
What happened to her stomach? Could the difference in our ages have something to do with it? Despite the differences in our behavior after returning from La-La-Land, I was pretty sure we were being drugged somehow.
The bell over the door jangled
, and Mom marched in with a scowl on her face and Bruce at her elbow. I took another bite and set my lunch aside. I might as well get the unpleasantness over with.
Bruce raised his eyebrows. “Robbed again?”
“Hello to you too, Bruce.”
He frowned.
“What?” Mom whirled toward him then back to me. “You didn’t say we’d been robbed.”
I shrugged.
“I didn’t want you to get into an accident on your way over.”
“So it was better to let me think something was wrong with my granddaughter?” She crossed her arms and scowled. Her face softened as she turned to Lindsey. “Are you all right?”
Lindsey nodded and tossed her burger wrapper in the garbage. “Better now that I ate.”
Bruce whipped a notepad from his pocket
and glared at me from lowered brows. “Start from the beginning.”
“I left Lindsey
alone while I went to get lunch. When I got back, she looked like she’d been sleeping, and the cash register was empty. That’s it.”
“Empt
y?” Mom dashed around the counter. “Last time they only took a couple hundred dollars. We had at least that amount in there today. Maybe more.”
Bruce made a noise in his throat. “Mind if I check your daughter’s backpack?”
My shoulders slumped. “She didn’t leave the store, Bruce.”
“Just procedure.”
Lindsey dragged her pack from behind the counter and tossed it at him. “I’ve nothing to hide.”
Bruce rummaged through it. “No cash.”
My daughter rolled her eyes then tried to resume a straight face when Bruce stared at her. Her eyebrows rose, her lips pursed, and her eyes widened in an attempt to portray innocence. I choked back a giggle and pretended to cough.
“Lindsey didn’t take the money.” I rose and paced, walking a circle around the other three
, forcing their heads to swivel in order to keep up with me. “It’s the same as when the money disappeared the last time. I ‘woke up’ to discover the money gone. Except I didn’t feel well. Lindsey was hungry. Minor difference in details. I’m still positive the two thefts are related.” But how? There had to be a way to find out. A trap I could set.
“Okay, Sherlock.” Bruce shook his head. “I can’t keep up with all the things disappearing around here.
And I don’t need a clumsy amateur getting in my way, making it harder.”
Of all the. . . I took a deep breath.
“Any ideas at all who’s behind it?”
“I’m thinking
it’s a gang. It’s got to be more than one person. They’re all over the place. In people’s homes, their place of business. . .and they aren’t taking just cash. We’ve got a stolen Prius, Kyle’s sister, a litter of puppies. . .”
“A Prius?” If someone was
targeting that particular brand of car, I’d have to be sure to get an alarm installed. I loved my new baby.
“Yeah, doesn’t make sense, does it?
They aren’t usually the type of automobile people steal, but somebody seems willing to take anything that isn’t nailed down or locked up. Oh, well. I’m keeping my eyes open. If y’all see anyone up to no good, call me. Y’all might as well go home. I’ll be sending someone over to fingerprint and can’t have you contaminating my crime scene.” He gave a curt nod and scuttled out the door.
I couldn’t help but glance at Lindsey, considering her words about what she’d been up to the night before. She’d have to tell me who she follow
ed. If she thought, even for the slightest moment, that someone was doing something wrong, she needed to come clean. What if it had something to do with all the other things going on in Oak Dale?
Mom collapsed into one of the rockers we had for sale. She tapped her finger against her forehead. “There’s something familiar about all this. Something I read in the paper a
few years ago, but I can’t get my mind to spit out the details.” She slapped her thighs. “It’ll come, sooner or later. Let’s close up shop and head home. One of us should stay, though.”
I really wanted to see Duane. Maybe he could make sense out of all this. I glanced at my watch. Weight training should be over by the time I drove to the high school. “I’m meeting up with Duane. Catch you two at home.”
“Great.” My mom muttered something about leaving her holding the door open for the investigators as I grabbed my purse and rushed outside.
The summer sunlight blinded me as I dug for my sunglasses. I spotted my cell phone at the bottom of my purse and grabbed it to call Duane. I punched in his speed dial number and listened while the lyrics to “I Love Rock and Roll” played.
His voice came on the line asking me to leave a message. I didn’t leave a voice mail and hopped in my car. I knew he was there and that he wouldn’t mind a surprise visit from me. After all, we loved each other.
I grinned remembering the kiss he’d bestowed on me after I declared I’d always loved him. The feeling still flooded me with heat.
Lost in my daydreams, I arrived at the school with no recollection of having driven there. I laughed. My reason for drifting into space rested solely on the shoulders of a man with hazel eyes.
After shutting of
f my car’s ignition, I slung the strap of my purse over my shoulder and headed to the gym. Silence greeted me through the door of the weight room. I knocked then pushed the door open when I didn’t hear a response. I was pretty certain Duane had said his office was at the back. My gym shoes slapped against the tile floor, echoing with all the joy of a horror movie. Surrounding me were tall skeletons of iron monsters waiting to give me sore muscles. All I lacked was a knife wielding maniac in a mask.
Finally. A door ahead with a plaque that read ‘Coach’.
A giggle stopped me, and I pressed my ear to the door. There it was again. High-pitched and nervous sounding. I pushed the door open. My world fell apart.
Duane leaned over the desk on which reclined a very pretty, tussled,
red-faced, and giggling, Marilyn Olsen. Minus her dogs. I gasped and stumbled backward against the wall.
Duane glanced up. “Marsha?”
I shook my head and whirled to dodge behind the nearest door. A shriek burst forth as I shielded my face with my purse. Football players in every stage of undress gawked at me. Some shouted ribald comments. Others laughed. Why did boys have to be so crude?
I began to hyperventilate.
My blood boiled like it could burn through my skin.
Be careful little eyes what you see!
I sprinted out the opposite door and down the hall, mumbling the childish Bible song.
Once I leaned against the door of my car, I labored for breath
, choking against the sobs ravaging my breath. I fumbled inside my purse. I had no doubt Duane would follow me. And I’d be ready. Me and my Tazer.