Death Threads (29 page)

“Oh, they’re that, too. But they love you. Trust me.”

Embarrassed by his praise, Tori searched for something to say. “I was going to make my first delivery today but opted to wait until tomorrow. Tuesday is apparently the day the doctor makes his rounds to all the residents. So I figured the books would be a treat better saved for another day.”

“Good call.” He scooted his chair back from the table just enough to allow the ankle of one leg to rest on the knee of his other. “So, what kind of books are the elderly of Sweet Briar reading these days?”

“Everything and anything. Nonfiction, romance, suspense, reference, women’s fiction.” She looked down at her napkin, her voice breaking as she continued. “One of the women even requested a Colby book.”

“I’m sorry, Tori.” In an instant, Milo was beside her chair, tugging her to her feet. “But you have to know that whoever did this to him will pay.”

“I hope you’re right. But from what Debbie told me earlier today, there aren’t any real clues.”

“You saw Debbie today?”

She nodded her head against his chest. “I wanted to see how she was.”

“And?”

“She’s struggling horribly.”

They walked arm in arm back to the couch, dirty dishes taking a backseat to the topic neither could stay away from any longer. “And what do you mean by no clues? Surely they’re looking for fingerprints and evidence around the house.”

Tori shook her head as she sunk into the love seat beside Milo. “They cleared the house days ago. That’s where I saw Debbie.”

He stared at her. “There’s nothing?”

“The knife had no fingerprints at all. Except for Colby’s and hers. They’d used it that evening while preparing supper.” She laced her fingers inside each other before setting them inside her lap. “And the only clue—if you want to call it that—is the fact that the sleeping pills Debbie gave him seem to be missing.”

“That’s weird,” Milo said, echoing a sentiment Tori shared.

“All I know is that whoever dragged him out of there had to be strong. I mean, have you ever seen the size of Colby’s arms?”

Milo laughed. “They’re the talk of many women in this town, Tori. And, quite frankly, every man in Sweet Briar knows about Colby Calhoun’s arms, too.”

“Oh.”

“But I have to disagree on the notion the person had to be of some superhuman strength. He had taken sleeping pills that night, hadn’t he?”

“Uhhh, yeah.” She turned her head to the side, studied his face for some sort of clue as to where he was going with his comments. “Debbie said he only took two. She said one tended to do nothing for him, yet two were just enough to send him off into la-la land.”

“And that’s exactly what I’m saying. People in la-la land can be coaxed without really having a clue as to what they’re—”

A knock interrupted his words. Shrugging her surprise at Milo, Tori stood and hurried toward the door, her hand pulling it open to reveal Leona Elkin standing on her front porch.

“Leona?”

Bobbing her head to the left to afford a better view into the house, Leona waved at Milo still seated on the couch. “I wouldn’t interrupt if it weren’t really important.”

“Come in, come in.” Tori stepped back, letting Leona pass. “Is something wrong?”

Waving her hand in the air, the woman kept walking, her signature a-man-is-in-the-room posturing in full force. “I just need your help.”

Pushing the door shut, Tori trailed her friend into the living room. “With . . .”

“My project.” Stopping beside the plaid armchair that was her favorite, Leona perched on the edge, an off-white clutch purse in her hand.

“Project?” Tori echoed as she raised a confused eyebrow in Milo’s direction.

Waving Tori off, Leona addressed Milo, her false eyelashes fluttering rapidly. “I’m making a wedding present for Ella May Vetter. I simply have one little detail left before I can bring it by her home tomorrow morning.”

Tori’s mouth gaped open. “Bring it by . . . tomorrow morning? Why?”

As if she hadn’t spoken a word, Leona continued, her obvious flirtation with Milo bringing a grin of amusement to the man’s face. “I seem to have stumbled across something that belongs to Ella May and I figured it would be best to bring the gift at the same time I bring back . . . well, I bring back the item she’s misplaced.”

Tori snorted. “You’re going to bring back the”—she moved her fingers up and down to simulate quotes—“item she misplaced?”

Leona glared at her. “I was threatened within an inch of my life if I didn’t return it by tomorrow.”

Rolling her eyes upward, Tori sat down beside Milo once again. “Milo, I’m terribly sorry. I need to help her with this project.”

He planted a kiss on the top of her head in understanding.

“Can we continue this again soon?” she asked.

Again he nodded, his smile chasing away any worry Leona’s unexpected visit had stirred inside her heart. “I look forward to it.” Rising to his feet, he reached a hand in her direction and tugged her off the sofa. “But walk me out, okay?”

“Absolutely.” She trailed him toward the door, her thoughts vacillating between tossing Leona out on her ear and asking Milo to hang around until they finished. But in the end, she opted to call it a night. Besides, Leona had a lecture coming.

They stepped onto the porch, the decreasing sun casting their bodies in shadows. “I had a wonderful time with you tonight, Tori.”

She looked up at him. “I did, too. Very much. I’m just sorry Leona chose tonight to develop a sudden urge to sew.”

“It’s okay. We have tomorrow. And every day after that for as long as you want me around.”

Aware of the sudden moisture in her eyes, Tori simply nodded, her voice too constricted to speak.

“Good night, Tori. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“You might want to make it after ten. I suspect I’ll be accompanying Leona on her all-important mission.”

“Have fun with that.” He reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, his lips finding hers in the looming darkness.

“Fun?” she asked as he pulled back, the touch of his lips leaving her dazed. “You haven’t spent much time with Leona Elkin, have you?”

“Tell me again why I’m here?” Tori eyed the woman in her passenger seat. “Why I’m an accomplice in a crime I didn’t commit?”

Leona pouted her perfectly plump lips as she peered inside the straw bag on her lap. “Because you’re the one making me bring him back.”

“Uh, Leona? He doesn’t belong to you . . . that’s why I’m making you bring him back.” She looked up into her rearview mirror, her guilty conscience making her wary of anyone who could be watching.

“Why? So he can be one of hundreds instead of his own special little bunny?” Leona’s cheeks rose as she made a playful face at the bunny peeking out through the tiny opening she’d made with her fingers. “Isn’t that right, my sweet little Paris?”

“Okay, what gives? What’s with the name?”

Leona gazed down at the rabbit. “He just reminds me of someone.”

“Don’t you mean somewhere?”

“No. Someone.”

“Who?”

Leona puckered her plump lips and made kissing noises at the bunny. “A man I met the last time I was in Paris.”

Tori cast a sidelong glance at her friend. “A bunny reminds you of a man you met?”

“Yes. My little Paris here has the same warm chocolate eyes . . . whiskers that tickle my skin . . .”

She bit back the urge to laugh as she swung her focus back to the road. “So then why didn’t you just call him the same name as this man?”

Leona waved her hand in the air. “Good heavens, dear . . . I don’t remember his name.”

“Just his eyes and his whiskers?”

“Exactly.” The woman looked from Tori to the bunny and back again. “Why can’t I just keep him? Ella May will never notice.”

“He’s not yours, Leona. That’s why.” She pulled into an abandoned turnoff less than a quarter of a mile from Ella May Vetter’s home and cut the engine. “Couldn’t I just drop you off? Let you walk back to town when you’re done?”

Leona raised her free hand to the base of her neck and feigned surprise. “You’d ask me to walk back to town while my heart is breaking?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, c’mon, Leona. Giving this bunny back is not affecting you that much.”

The woman huffed. “Shows how much you know, dear.” She pulled her hand from her neck and wiggled her manicured fingers at the soulful brown eyes peering out from the bag. “Besides, don’t you want to see how my first sewing effort is received?”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll do it. But how are you going to explain the bunny?” Tori leaned across her friend for a better look at the seemingly willing prisoner.

“If we’re not able to make it to the porch without being seen, I’ll gently drop the bag, make it appear as if Paris just hopped in.” Leona leaned against the seatback, a self-satisfied look on her flawlessly made-up face. “It’s really quite genius.”

“Don’t forget to pat yourself on the back,” Tori mumbled as she turned the key in the ignition and pulled back onto the road, Ella May’s Victorian springing into view behind a large grove of trees.

“Must you be so snippy this morning, dear?” Leona chided. “Paris likes positive, happy people.”

“Then what’s he doing with you?”

Leona slowly shook her head. “And here I thought I’d made some progress in teaching you how to conduct yourself as a proper southern belle.”

“Do southern belles make a habit of helping one another steal things? Do they stalk around people’s homes trying to get a glimpse into a personal life that is none of their business?” The questions sprang from Tori’s mouth as she slowed the car once again before turning into Ella May Vetter’s driveway.

“Leave it to a northerner to disguise their accusations in sarcasm.” Leona pulled the straw bag closer to her body as the car bumped its way down the gravel driveway.

“Ahhh yes, because out-and-out accusing people of crimes they didn’t commit simply because they don’t look and act like everyone around them isn’t wrong?” She knew her teasing had crossed into bitterness but she didn’t care. Some things just needed to be said. “Wait. Don’t answer that. I forgot we’re living in a place where decent men are murdered for telling the truth.”

Leona waved her free hand in the air. “I still intend to work on Harrison.”

Tori shifted in her seat. “When?”

“After my date with William.”

“After?” She bit back the urge to scream, her irritation at her friend’s constant man-chasing nearing its limit. “I thought you said you learned a lesson last time . . . that friends come first.”

“Did I say that?” Leona asked with surprise.

“Yes. You did. And spending time with Harrison could give us some much needed insight into what happened to Colby.”

“I did try. When you first brought it up. But . . .” The woman’s voice trailed off for a moment only to return as a near whisper, “he didn’t seem interested.”

Tori gasped. “A man didn’t jump when you asked?”

“Stop it, dear. Perhaps he’s involved with a new woman and he’s trying to resist temptation.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the way Leona shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the notion a man might not be interested just about more than the woman could take. “Do you know who?”

“He acted very secretive.”

She straightened behind the wheel, her radar pinging loudly. “Secretive?”

“Not in the I’m-hiding-a-dead-body kind of way, dear. Rather in an I’m-dating-someone-but-don’t-want-anyone-to-know kind of way. But it won’t last. When he realizes the opportunity he was given, he’ll come around. They always do, dear.” Leona jutted her chin upward as she wrapped her fingers around the door handle and pulled, the door swinging open simultaneously. “Enough of that for now. Let’s get snooping . . . I mean going.”

“No, you meant snooping.” Tori followed suit, stepping onto the gravel driveway in her new woven wedge heels as she moved her hand upward to shield her eyes from the midmorning sun. “I think you might be in luck. Though I suppose that’s contingent on what you consider luck . . . Ella May being home so you can spy, or Ella May not being home so you can return the bunny without fear of getting caught?”

Leona walked around the front of the car to join Tori, her hand shaking ever so slightly as she held the bag outward one more time. “I’m going to miss him.”

“We can get you your own, you know.” Tori slid a sympathetic look in Leona’s direction as the woman peered forlornly down at the bunny. “We could call a few pet stores in the county, see if they have one.”

“He wouldn’t be my Paris.”

“Your Paris?” Tori echoed in surprise.

“I got attached.”

“I’ll say.” Realizing her friend wasn’t acting, Tori slipped a reassuring hand around the woman’s shoulders. “Think of all the friends he has here. And the flowers he can trample through and the organic carrots he’ll eat.”