His Frozen Heart (33 page)

My vision clouded as tears threatened
to escape. When I accused her of blowing her whole paycheck, she
had let me believe she had been irresponsible rather than telling
me she had loaned her money to a friend. That was just like Libby:
twelve dollars in her coffee can, and she had loaned everything
else she had to someone she believed needed the money more than she
did. I sat at the kitchen table re-reading the thank-you note
several times. Each time only made me feel worse.

When I rose from the chair to put the
money in her coffee can, I saw there was over two hundred dollars
in it already. She had given Chris money at Bank Shot and bought
groceries Tuesday night – the rest of Teddy’s money was safely
tucked away. Why wouldn’t she have given the money she had to Grey
when he showed up? Had she denied she had it? Why wouldn’t she have
handed the whole thing over? Had she told Grey I had the
money?

I had seen the living room and the
aftermath of what had happened to Libby when I stopped by with the
police officer Wednesday morning. I wanted to avoid the room. I
didn’t want to see the blood-soaked sofa again. I filled up the
sink with food encrusted dishes that had set on the stove all week.
I washed, dried, and put them away, glancing over my shoulder
several times at the ominous living room. My hands grabbed the
dishrag to wipe down the counters while the dishwater
drained.

Reluctantly, I walked out of the
kitchen and stood in the doorway to the living room where Grey had
attacked her. The tan sofa had several pieces cut out of it, no
doubt gathered for evidence. Two very bloody patches had been cut
out of the carpet, as well.

I slid down the doorway, my back
braced against it, unable to move as my eyes took in the horrific
sight. I don’t know how long I sat there staring at the place where
Libby had nearly been killed. Unable to stand, I crawled over on my
hands and knees to where the attack had happened. My hand smoothed
over the carpet caked with dried blood. It was thick and hard,
feeling like dried paint under my fingers.

There was so much blood. It was dry
and the carpet and couch that had been soft before were both hard
to touch and gruesome to see. I remembered glancing into the room
as I ran out of the house Tuesday night; Libby looked like she had
fallen asleep in front of the television. Why hadn’t I gone in and
told her to go to bed? Why hadn’t I gotten out of my own bed when
she called for my help? If she died, it would be because I hadn’t
prevented it. I hadn’t helped her when she needed me.

I couldn’t leave the sofa in the
house. I needed to get it out. I couldn’t bear to look at any of
it. I pushed the sofa out of the living room, through the kitchen,
the entryway, and on to the front porch. Trash day was Monday, but
it was too large for pickup. I started to walk back inside, but I
couldn’t leave the couch out for the world to see. She deserved
better. I went back inside and grabbed my coat, hat and gloves,
then dragged it through the snow to the backyard.

When it was in the center of the
backyard, away from everything else, I doused it with gasoline from
a can in the garage and set it on fire. I was sure one of my
neighbors would probably call the fire department, but I didn’t
care. I stood there watching it burn as the flames enveloped every
inch of it. When one of my neighbors stepped into her back yard, I
waved my hand but offered no explanation of the bonfire I had
started. In this moment I wished for Grey’s face to appear around
the corner of my house. The rage inside me grew with every bit of
flame that flew into the air. He wouldn’t get away with
this.

As the flames died down and the
springs were visible, I turned away from it, then returned to the
house. I opened a drawer in the kitchen, took out a knife, then cut
every bit of the carpeting and padding that had blood stains on it.
I ripped the carpet free of the floor, took it outside and threw it
on the still smoldering sofa. I poured more accelerant on the fire
and watched the flames dance high again.

I spoke into the fire, willing my
words to find my nemesis, “Stop by for a visit now, Grey. You’ll
pay for this.”

After the flames died down and I was
satisfied that no part of anything Grey had touched still remained,
I went inside again. Hopefully Mom wouldn’t try to surprise me for
a visit until after I had replaced her sofa and carpet.

Two hours later I was sitting on the
floor by my front door frustrated beyond belief. My phone rang in
the kitchen as I scrambled up off of the floor to retrieve it from
my purse. I caught it on the third ring, hoping to hear Dave’s
voice on the other end. I tried to hide my disappointment when I
heard Kravitz. “Why’d you leave so early this morning?”

I sighed into the phone, “The police
said I could have my house back today. I thought I’d install some
floor deadbolts, but I can’t get the stupid hole I drilled to line
up with the lock in the door, and I have to be at work in an hour.”
I didn’t bother to mention my bonfire in the back yard.

“
I’ve got some time. I can
help you with them.”

“
Seriously?”

“
What, you think I’m only
handy with cars? I’ll be over in ten minutes. You still live on
Elm?”

How did Kraviz know where I lived?
He’d never been here. “Uh, yeah. Car’s out front.”

True to his word, ten minutes after we
hung up, he was standing at my front door inspecting my work.
“Yikes, Candy. You suck at this.”

“
Thanks, Mr. Kravitz. Like
I hadn’t figured that out for myself.”

He shook his head at me, “Go get ready
for work. I’ll finish up here.”

Tentatively I said, “There are two
more exterior doors if you’re feeling ambitious.”

Chuckling at my ineptness with hand
tools, he directed, “Go. I’ve got this.”

I bounded up a few of the stairs when
the wave of discomfort hit me again. My eyes narrowed as I saw him
cutting a new hole in the floor. I didn’t get an ax murderer vibe
from him, but after everything that had happened the last few days,
I didn’t want to be naïve, either. “Hey, how did you know where I
lived anyway?”

“
How else?
Dave.”

“
Dave told you where I
lived?”

“
I wouldn’t say he told
me.” He leaned back against the wall. “Remember that schmuck Dillon
Ford you went with to prom?”

Schmuck
was an understatement. He turned out to be a
grade-A loser. I had cut him out of every picture the two of us
were together in and tried to block out the whole experience. “I’d
rather not.”

“
Dave was trying to get up
the nerve to ask you to prom. He and I sat in my car on your street
for almost an hour one Saturday. Eventually he talked himself out
of asking you at your house, thinking he wanted to ask you at
school instead, so we drove away.”

“
Dave never asked me. I
only went with Dillon because prom was like two weeks
away.”

Mr. Kravitz smiled, “I know. Dave
tried lots of times, but could never close the deal.”

I tried to think back. I couldn’t
remember ever talking about prom with Dave. The subject had never
come up. After finally getting to know the real Dave, I wish he’d
have found a way to ask. Prom was one of the worst dating
experiences of my life. It was supposed to be a special night, but
ended up being little more than an evening of Dillan trying to
grope me while he attempted to shove his slimy tongue down my
throat.

I showered and dressed in record time.
I had fifteen minutes to get to Cookies’ Cuisine, which was only
five minutes from my house. After being pulled off of the lunch
shift during the week, I couldn’t afford to lose my weekend hours,
too. Mr. Kravitz wasn’t at the front door when I came downstairs.
No tools lay anywhere around it. As I looked, the shiny new
deadbolt was secured into the floor and all the wood shavings that
had been lying on the carpet were gone.

The sound of the drill echoed from the
back of the house. He’d finished this and started on the second in
less than a half hour. I didn’t know how he was working so fast,
but I was grateful. I found him kneeling beside the door for the
entrance to the basement. He looked up after he felt my eyes
watching him. “One down, two to go.”

“
The front door looks
great. Thanks so much for doing this for me.”

“
No problem. It was a smart
idea to install these. They won’t keep out someone who wants in,
but they’ll force them to make enough racket to wake the dead, so
no one can sneak up on you. Here,” he tossed me a single key.
“That’s for the front door. I’ll lock the front door on my way out,
you’ll be able to get back in with that one. I’ll leave the other
keys on the table for the two back doors.”

“
Thanks,” I stumbled for a
second, “Ryan.” He smiled when I had finally been able to call him
by his first name. It felt strange and wasn’t something I’d easily
be able to make a habit out of. “I’m going to work. If you see
Dave. . .” my voice trailed off.

“
If I see him, I’ll let him
know you’re worried. Don’t think just because I’m putting these
locks in that you aren’t welcome at my house. The guest room is
yours if you need it.”

“
At least until Aunt Jean’s
next trip.”

Mr. Kravitz laughed,
“Right.”

Chapter 24

I checked in with the manager as soon
as I arrived at the restaurant. I wasn’t sure what was going on
today, but the place was packed while people were huddled in the
front waiting for tables. Saturdays were busy, but not typically
saturated with hungry people.

I grabbed an apron from the back.
Kelly saw me, and directed, “Tables two and four.” Kelly was one of
my favorite people to work with.

“
Got it,” I called. The
next three hours were non-stop. Although I was deemed unreliable
because my morning classes routinely ran long during the week, I
was one of the better waitresses on staff. My tips showed it. Just
as the lunch crowd was beginning to clear, I did a quick
calculation and had pocketed almost fifty dollars. That was almost
a full tank of gas.

Kelly called over her shoulder. “Some
guy in a black truck stopped by a while ago to see you. He was
delicious! I told him you were off at four. He said he’d be back
then.”

My heart lurched, “Did he say his name
was Dave?”

“
He didn’t say. You been
holding out on me?”

What could I tell her? The last time I
had worked, Dave hadn’t been in the picture; it was hard to believe
that was less than a week ago. “It’s sort of recent. Dark hair,
dark eyes, big arms?”

“
I didn’t see past his
chest. He had to turn sideways to make it through the doorway. My
God I want his babies.”

“
So, should I plan on
seeing him a little closer to four-thirty?”

We both giggled as Kelly straightened
her uniform and said, “That should be adequate enough time for me
to convince him you aren’t as good of baby momma material as I
am.”

The manager eyed us from the kitchen.
Gossip was frowned on, and I was already under his scrutiny for
breathing. Having the sudden urge to look productive, I announced,
“I’m going to go wipe down tables.”

“
Hey, Amazon, can you grab
some napkins from the supply cabinet first?” Kelly was five foot
three in heels, so anything past the third shelf required climbing
on her part.

I laughed at her, taking a detour to
the back, “No problem, my little Pygmy friend.”

Dave had stopped by to see me. I felt
giddy. I looked at my watch; he would be here in less than two
hours. If he were still angry with me, he would have left a message
or just continued to ignore me. Driving all the way here meant he
wanted to talk. If I could get him to listen, he’d know I didn’t
purposely hide the fact from him that I had seen Mark.

Thoughts of Dave stretched out beside
me assailed my memory. I stopped by a mirror hanging in the back
hallway and checked my hair in case he came back early. I couldn’t
wipe the stupid grin off my face. A heaviness that had been on my
chest since yesterday morning eased.

Shaking my head at myself in the
mirror, I stepped into the supply closet, quickly eyeing each of
the shelves, and finding the box of napkins all the way in the back
of the fifth shelf. I could reach it without a step stool, but had
to do it on my toes holding a lower shelf for balance. The door
opened behind me and slammed shut hard. “Geeze, impatient much?” I
called to Kelly.

My fingers grasped the packet of
napkins as I turned toward the door to toss the packet at her. My
heart stopped as my eyes took in the man who I last saw sprinting
down my street with Dave giving chase. A knife glinted in his
hand.

I screamed, a high-pitch I wasn’t even
aware I was capable of producing. He jumped forward shoving his
hand over my mouth. He glared menacingly, then whispered, “Not a
sound or your little waitress friend doesn’t make it home tonight.
Clear?”

A second later Kelly swung the door
open to the supply room. Grey stood behind the door glaring at me
out of her view.