Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes (23 page)

Read Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes Online

Authors: Denise Grover Swank

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #A Rose Gardner Mystery Book One

BOOK: Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes
11.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The click of heels on the tile floor alerted me to his entrance into the bathroom. They made a dull thud, the sound Mike’s boots made on Violet’s kitchen floor. Ordinarily, the sound would have been barely audible, but in the silence and my fear, I heard every foot fall.

I hoped to use the element of surprise, waiting for him to open the door and planning to leap out. My adrenaline surged, ready to pounce. His cell phone rang, making me jump. I caught myself before I banged into the door.

“Yeah,” he barked. His voice sounded young, but rough around the edges from too many cigarettes.

I heard muffled words coming from the phone.

“I said I’d be right there. I’ve got some loose ends to tie up.”

Since I didn't have the gouging plan fully coordinated, I hoped he’d just leave.

He cursed again, calling the person on the other end a lot of very ugly names. “I’ll be right there.” He left the bathroom, giving the wall a good kick on his way out. The kitchen door slammed.

I snuck out of the closet, amazed I’d calmed down so much coming up with a plan. Maybe I was capable of a lot more than I thought.

Wrapping the towel around me, I hunched over and looked out the front windows. The back of a head disappeared into a beat-up looking black pickup truck with the name
Weston’s Garage
printed on the side, the letters rubbed off around the edges. The truck looked old and reminded me of a quilt with patches of rust spots and mismatched paint.

The man slammed the door closed and took off down the street. It surprised me he wasn’t more subtle. I only hoped Mildred had seen everything then remembered Thursday mornings meant Mildred was busy performing her presidential duties at the Garden Society meeting. Across town.

Discouraged, I turned around to view the damage left behind. Broken dishes and glasses were strewn everywhere. The junk drawer contents had been dumped onto the kitchen table, but when I checked my purse, my wallet appeared intact.

What had he been after?

I moved down to my bedroom, noticing the hole he beat into the wall in the hallway in his frustration. That had to be patched up, as well as the hole he kicked in the bathroom. In my bedroom, clothing had been dumped and thrown all over the room. In Momma’s room, boxes of photos were scattered everywhere like new fallen snow.

I sighed with weariness. I really didn’t want to deal with this right now. Calling the police crossed my mind, but that could take hours and I doubted they’d believe me anyway. I tiptoed my way through the mess in the kitchen to check the door. I could have sworn that I’d locked it when I came in. But I found it unlocked and the door didn't look busted in. The police definitely wouldn’t believe me now.

In the end, what did it matter whether I called or not? It wasn't like they were going to do anything about it.

The phone rang, startling me out of my thoughts. I answered it cautiously. Momma didn't believe in caller ID so I had no way of knowing who waited on the other end.

“Rose?” Joe asked, sounding surprised.

“Joe?”

“What are you doing home? Why aren’t you at work?”

“Why are you calling me if you didn’t think I was home?”

“I was gonna leave a message.” He paused then let his anger loose. “Where were you last night?”


Excuse me
?”

“You left and never came home, where were you all night?”

He was really starting to make me mad. Who did he think he was, anyway? “That’s none of your business, Joe McAllister! I don't answer to you.”

“I was worried about you, Rose. First your mother, then your break-in and the murder last night. I was scared something happened to you.”

“Wait a minute, what murder?”

“A bartender from Jaspers.”

The blood rushed out of my head and pooled in the tips of my toes. “What?
Sloan
?”

“You
knew
him?” Joe didn't sound as worried as he did before.

“Well, I wouldn't say I knew him that well. We had a dealing.” I sure wasn’t going to admit to Joe I needed help fending a man off. “I can’t believe it.” I sank down in a chair. I didn’t know how much more bad news I could take.

We were silent for a moment, while I let the information soak in. “What happened to him?” I finally asked.

“He was shot behind the restaurant after work. Execution-style.”

“What does that mean?”

“They shot him at point-blank range, but they probably tried to get information out of him first.”

“Oh, my…why would someone do that?”

“You tell me.”

My heart skipped a beat. “How would I know?” He was so exasperating. “I had one dealing with him and you think I know why someone killed him?”

“For such a quiet town, it’s more than a little coincidental that your mother is murdered, someone breaks into your house and a man was murdered last night. Someone you had a
dealing
with.”

If he only knew about my break-in minutes earlier. “Do you think the police will figure out I knew him?”

“That depends, Rose. How well did you know him?” Bitterness drenched his words.

“You very well know I didn’t know him in the way you’re insinuating. I think I’m done talking to you, Joe.”

“Wait!” He called out, pleading, before I could hang up.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight with you. I was just worried and apparently jealous.”

Jealous? Joe jealous over
me
? For some reason I didn't totally believe him.
Three more days
rang through my head. Besides, I had to admit I liked the idea of Joe being jealous. “So where did you think I went last night?”

“I was worried you ran off and did something crazy like sleep with some guy before Monday.”

“And why do you care?” I couldn’t help asking.

He paused, then answered, soft and sexy: “Because I want it to be me.”

I couldn't stop the sharp intake of air from the instantaneous fire igniting in my gut. “Then don't make me wait until Monday,” I whispered. “Maybe we can work out some kind of compromise.”

He paused again. I had a feeling Joe was doing some conscious-wrestling. He was trying to be honorable and I was trying to drag him down. I really was wicked. I almost felt bad. Almost.

“We can talk about it tonight at dinner. Remember?”

“About that…” I glanced around my kitchen with a grimace, unsure I could have everything cleaned up by then, or if I even wanted to. “I’m not sure I can cook.”

“We’ll figure something out. I’m more interested in the company than the food.”

“Maybe we could eat at your place. I could cook there.”

He paused again. “No, that’s not going to work. My house is a wreck. A total bachelor pad.”

I frowned. He didn't have any trouble letting Hilary in there. I rolled my eyes. I didn't want to think about Hilary. “Okay, well we’ll figure it out later. See you tonight.”

“Wait, Rose, where were you last night?” He didn’t sound jealous. He sounded anxious.

“At my sister’s house.”

I could have sworn I heard him mutter “thank God” under his breath.

We hung up and I pulled out the phone book and called a cleaning company, offering to pay extra if they were there within the hour. Next, I called Violet and told her I had a slight delay. While on the phone, I noticed my Walmart receipt under the junk spread across the table. I pulled it free, looking over the items. I still had things to do today.

“Violet, how about we go to the park for a picnic? We can get food on the way. It’ll be fun. We can bring Muffy.”

The maid service arrived ahead of schedule and was immediately taken back by the state of the kitchen. An older Hispanic woman shot a look of disapproval in my direction when she noticed the hole in the hallway wall. I shrugged and murmured something about wild parties. I instructed them to throw everything in Momma’s room into the now empty boxes. In the kitchen, they could toss anything broken and put everything else away. I handed a set of keys to the women and told her to hide them under the mat outside the door. A totally obvious place, but it wasn’t like locked doors kept people out anyway.

After I got the cleaning service squared away, I called a taxi to take me to the car rental agency. They apologized over the trouble and offered me a new car, but I told them to just give me a refund on the unused days.

When I got to Violet’s house, she appeared surprised to see my old car but didn’t ask questions. We loaded the kids and Muffy into Violet’s minivan and headed to Henryetta’s new splash park.

After we spread out a blanket under a tree, we settled in to eat, the kids excited to play in the water. Violet and I convinced them to eat the majority of their lunch before they took off, leaving Violet, Muffy and me behind.

The sun bore down as we stood at the edge of the splash park concrete. Ashley tugged on my wrist, pulling me toward the fountains, looking up at me with pouty eyes. I didn’t have a swimming suit, but decided I might never get the chance again. I hadn't seen a weather forecast for the next few days, but today it was hot and sunny, with no clouds in sight. There was a good possibility it wouldn’t rain between now and Sunday. Maybe this could count for
play in the rain
.

Violet held Muffy’s leash while I ran in, hands over my head, screaming from the shock of the cold water pelting my skin. I shrugged off my inhibitions, tossing them away like an old tattered coat. The chains wrapped around my life slipped off one link at a time with every puddle I stomped. I almost cried from the freedom. Ashley and Mikey laughed as we spun in circles and ran through pools of water. I’d never done this before, completely let go of everything. I felt so light and free I expected to float up into the sky and become lost in the nonexistent clouds above. Violet stood on the edge, eyeing us with a wistful look in her eye and I realized she never had either. I was the chain that tied her down.

I ran to Violet, my clothes soaked and clinging, and saw the wistful expression in her eyes. I stood in front of her and simply reached out my hand. Indecision flickered through her eyes, the fear of letting go. I gave her an encouraging smile, holding my palm face up. She looked into my eyes, tears filling her own and she slowly lifted her hand to mine.

We stood in the Henryetta splash park, me looking like a drowned rat and Violet in her prim and proper outfit, her hair perfectly in place. Our fingers locked in a tight squeeze and I knew I owed this woman so much. As long as I lived, even if it was only three more days, I would never forget her incredible love for me.

My heart swelled with love and gratitude until it overflowed and filled my eyes with tears, falling and mingling with the sprinkler water that dripped down my face. I smiled, my chin quivering with emotion, then I tugged.

She was reluctant, so I eased her into it. I, of all people, knew how hard it was to give into frivolity. Violet skirted the edge of the concrete, resisting. Ashley ran over and grabbed Violet’s other hand. Mikey clapped, excited Mommy was going to play.

Muffy sat off to the side watching all the commotion with disinterest.

When I thought Violet had enough time to adjust, I yelled to Ashley, “Let’s get her wet!”

Ashley and I each pulled a hand and Violet screamed and protested in between bursts of laughter. She dug in her heels, leaning her bottom backward as we dragged her toward a huge spray of water spewing from a fire hydrate.

“No! I’ll get my hair wet!” she screamed, but this only spurred Ashley on more.

We got her directly under the water, Ashley and I circling our arms around her, holding her under the spray, all three of us squealing. Mikey sat at the edge giggling and clapping. “Momma! Momma!”

Somewhere in the park, someone turned on music. I leaned over to Ashley giving her a mischievous look. “Let’s dance!”

And at two o’clock in the afternoon on a hot June day, for the first time in my life, I danced. It wasn’t the romantic dance I envisioned when I wrote
dance
on my list, but it was so much better. I looked up into the cloudless sky, flung my arms wide open and spun in circles laughing until I cried. Violet shook her head, a tiny smile lifting the corners of her lips. I grabbed Violet’s hand, Ashley pulling the other. We danced in circles, making fools of ourselves and not caring what anyone thought, just being free.

My heart burst right open, right there under the rainbow spray, as I watched Violet let go of her wariness and dance and squeal with her children. Violet had given me hope and love all those years; I had given her so little in return. But that Thursday afternoon, I gave Violet something just as precious. Freedom. I set her free. When I was gone, there would be no regrets for her. Violet turned to me, Mikey on her hip and Ashley twirling around in the sprays. Pure joy radiated from her face and I couldn't contain the happiness billowing like a mushroom cloud. Another memory for my scrapbook.

I wiped the tears streaming down my face and ran into the water, spinning Ashley around to her delight. We played for another half an hour until Mikey looked like he was about to fall over with sleepiness. None of us were ready to go, so we changed the kids out of their wet suits and into dry clothes. We lay on the blanket under the tree, letting the warm breeze dry us. The kids fell asleep within minutes. Violet and I looked up at the leaves of the oak tree hanging over our heads, the soft rustle a soothing lullaby.

“Do you still think of me as your sister?” Violet asked, breaking our silence.

I turned my head toward her. “Of course, Vi. You're the best sister I could have ever asked for.”

Her eyes filled with tears, “I wasn’t sure, because of Momma…” her words trailed off, and uncertainty hung between us.

“Vi, I don’t care about blood. It never mattered to me like it did to Momma.” Which made total sense now that I thought about it, Momma’s preoccupation with blood. “I love you, Violet.” My voice tightened as tears stung my eyes again. ”You were there for me when you could have walked away and saved yourself. Momma would have loved you more if you hadn’t taken my side. You gave up so much for me. What have I ever given you?”

Other books

Fatality by Caroline B. Cooney
The Best for Last by Maria Geraci
Dangerous Race by Dee J. Adams
Katy Kelly_Lucy Rose 04 by Lucy Rose: Working Myself to Pieces, Bits
What Abi Taught Us by Lucy Hone