Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes (28 page)

I set the phone down on the nightstand just as I heard the bathroom door open. I was quivering like a Jello salad just shook out of its mold. How was I gonna hide
that
? I lay down, my back to the door. Muffy jumped up on the bed and lay beside me, her head on my legs as if she watched for Joe.

He came into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. He rubbed my arm. “Hey, are you feelin’ any better?”

Muffy lifted her head and whimpered.

I was scared.

This was Joe. Joe who helped me paint and stood outside the funeral home with me, handing me tissues. Joe who laughed with me until we cried over Muffy and her intestinal issues. Joe who taught me how to use chopsticks and about drinking and kissing. And more. I felt so hurt and betrayed it overshadowed the fear. But I couldn't confront him with any of it. I had no idea what he was capable of. Turned out, I didn’t really know him at all.

“Yeah, I’m just tired.”

“I can stay and just hold you. It might make you feel better.”

Ten minutes ago, I would have killed for that. “Nah, that’s okay. I’m about to drift off to sleep. You go home.”

He hesitated, like he wanted to say something and then he stood up. “If you need me, I’m next door.” He started for the door, Muffy’s head moving as she watched him.

He picked up his phone and looked at it, then leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Sweet dreams.”

It took everything within me not to snort. Nightmares were more likely.

“Call me tomorrow, okay? We still have to work on your list.”

I’d begun to hate that stupid list. My list got me mixed up with him in the first place, that and my overly aggressive hormones.

I lay on the bed, and about half a minute later the kitchen door opened and closed. I waited a few more minutes, then got up and snuck out into the kitchen, half expecting to find him waiting in a chair, but found an empty room. I went to lock the door and discovered Joe had already locked it. How did Joe lock the deadbolt? I searched my purse and the table for my keys.

A scrap of paper lay on the counter.

Rose,

I took your keys so I could lock up for you and you didn't have to get up. Call me as soon as you’re awake so I can return them.

Joe

Crappy doodles
. Now, I was trapped and had less than twenty-four hours to figure out what kind of information this mystical flash drive contained, certain Joe was after it, too. Why else would he care about Sloan?

I looked out the front window onto the street. A few houses down, an unfamiliar car parked on the curb. I ran to the hall closet and searched for the binoculars. They were hard to find in the dark, but I told Joe I was going to sleep. I couldn't very well turn on any lights or he might consider it an invitation to come back.

Once I found them, I crept to the front window and looked at the car. A man sat in the front seat. Looking right at me. Thank goodness he didn’t have binoculars or we could have waved to each other.

Crappy doodles
.

Who was he? Who was he with? Daniel? Joe? Someone else?

I sure didn’t want to be trapped in my house all night and now, more than ever, I needed to get out to my shed and see what Joe had been doing out there the night before. But first I needed to change clothes. I put on a t-shirt and capris, suddenly wishing I’d paid attention to what I was wearing in my vision. I sure didn’t want to be caught dead wearing that.

Muffy gave me a dirty look. I had a mind-reading dog.

There were two doors out of my house, the front and the side. Both were in plain sight of the guy in the car. If I left, it had to be out the back window. I found the flashlight and went to one of Momma’s bedroom windows. It would be tricky getting in and out with the window almost four feet off the ground. It only proved the intruder had long legs to be able to get his leg in the window in the first place. Like Joe’s.

I’d show Joe McAllister what I was really capable of with a rolling pin.

As an afterthought, I unlocked my front door, so if I got caught I could say I went out the front. I opened the bedroom window and pushed out the screen, unsure of the best way to go about climbing out. I’d never done that before, climbed out a window. Maybe I could fill that in spot twenty-nine.

Maybe I wasn’t ready to give up my list yet.

I threw the flashlight out the window. I decided to stick my left leg out first, and there I hung, my head still inside, hanging onto the ledge. I was gonna have to fall. So I just pushed myself out and landed on the side of my left leg with a thud. That would hurt tomorrow.

I’m gonna make Joe McAllister pay for this. After I’m finished beating him with my rolling pin, I’m gonna stick it up
—

Muffy whimpered in the window.

“No, Muffy, stay there. I’ll be back in a minute.” I whispered.

Muffy rested her chin on the ledge.

In my haste, I hadn’t thought about the fact Joe was probably still up, evidenced by the lights on in windows on the back of his house. I sprinted for the tree line at the far corner of my yard, hoping he wouldn’t look outside. I stayed in their shadows until I reached the back corner of the shed. When I reached the edge, I realized I hadn’t grabbed the key to the padlock, and was about to beat my head against the metal wall when I saw the padlock wasn’t even on the door. Joe must not have put it back on the other night.

I slid the door open, pushing gently to minimize the screeching sounds, only it didn't make its usual creaks and groans. Had Joe oiled it? I slipped inside, turned on the flashlight, and began to look around. Nothing appeared out of place. The beam of light searched the corners, illuminated the shelves, nothing. I shuffled my way around the lawn mower, my foot hitting something hard and I swung the light down. A yellow shop towel lay on the ground, partially shoved under the lawn mower. I squatted to pick it up, surprised to find the towel wrapped around a heavy object. I put the flashlight between my legs and unrolled the cloth, nearly dropping it when I saw what it contained.

A gun. A handgun.

The combination of finding a gun and being in the shed, caused panic to slip in and take hold. I had to get out of the dark, confined space, but what did I do with the gun? I had to get rid of it. I laid the gun, still in the towel, on top of the mower. A plastic bag on the shelf caught my eye. I grabbed it and picked up the gun, wrapping it up in a wad, smart enough to keep my fingerprints off of it. Next I pulled a wrench out of the tool box, wrapped it up in the towel, and put it back underneath the mower.

But what should I do with the gun?

I saw a garden trowel hanging on a hook. I would bury it.

I planted the gun next to my roses, somewhat ironic considering my name and the fact a gun would probably kill me. As I dug the hole, I couldn’t shake the fingertips of eerie dread inching its way up my back and nestling in the base of my neck. This was so much like my vision: trees, night, a gun. The only thing missing was the bullet hole.

I gasped. Is that what happened in my vision? Did Joe shoot me with this gun?
Not if I can help it
. I dug even deeper, then placed the gun, still in the bag, in the bottom and covered it with the dirt, smoothing it out so it didn’t look so obvious. To finish it off, I spread the remaining mulch around.

I put the trowel back in shed and closed the door. I’d turned back to the house when Muffy jumped out the window, running over to me. She gave me a defiant look.

“Muffy, I told you to stay inside.”

My dog, who believed life was better lived in the slow lane, took off running for the front of the house.

“Muffy!” I whisper-shouted. “Muffy! Come back here!”

Once Muffy started running, she didn’t stop. I took off after her, worried who would see us, but more worried she would get away and I’d never find her. She came to an abrupt halt, waiting at the sidewalk, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth.
Thank goodness
. Surprised how upset I was at the thought of losing her, I knelt down to pet her. But Muffy had other ideas. She took off sprinting down the sidewalk, in the direction of the car down the street. I stood there, torn between catching her and self-preservation.

But really, there was no question. I ran after Muffy. I only hoped I didn’t get shot.

I didn’t. Instead, I ran into Joe. Literally. I had looked over my shoulder, toward the house to make sure he hadn’t seen me, when I ran smack dab into his chest. He grabbed my arms to keep me from falling.

“Rose, why are you running? What’s wrong?” His voice rose in alarm.

“Muffy!” I said, looking around him for signs of her. I heard her snort and looked down to see her sitting next to him.

I shot a glare at her.
Traitor
!

“What are you doin’ out here?” He sounded nervous and grabbed my hand. He began pulling me toward the house.

Muffy trotted along and then stopped and pooped in the neighbor’s yard. “Ewww, Muffy! I didn’t bring a bag!” But Muffy was a genius. “Muffy had to go out and I barely had time to get her out the door.” I’d have to remember to come back in the morning to pick up her mess.

Joe eyed me, tilting his head to look at me. “I see you had time to change into different clothes.” He still held my hand in his. My palm began to sweat under his scrutinizing gaze.

“Well, I couldn’t come outside in my nightgown, could I?” I answered defensively.

“No, I’m glad you didn't come out in that little purple thing. That might have gotten the neighbor’s attention.” Joe tried to be subtle, but I saw him turn his head over his shoulder. In the direction of the car.

At least I hadn’t gotten shot yet.

“Muffy’s done her business. Let’s get you inside,” Joe said, moving toward the side of the house.

Muffy took off again, to the backyard. I swore if she started digging up the gun, I was gonna bury her in its place. Instead, she ran to the screen still on the grass, and sat down to wait.

“Rose,” Joe said, alarm raising the pitch of his voice. “Someone tried to get in your house again!”

Oh, crappy doodles. Play along
.

“Oh, my goodness!”

Joe grabbed my arm and took off running, dragging me to the other side of his front porch. His legs were longer than mine and I stumbled a couple of times trying to keep up. He pushed me down between his porch and an azalea bush. Muffy lay on the ground beside me. “Hide down here while I see if they’re still inside. Do not come out,” he said, his voice lowering into an order.

“Joe! Wait!”

“What?” He turned to face me, worry lines wrinkling his forehead.

The concern on his face stunned me, momentarily making me forget why I called to him. “Go in the front door. The side door is locked.”
Thank goodness I unlocked the front door
.

Joe sprinted to the front and disappeared inside. I had to admit I would have been afraid for him if I thought someone was in my house. How could I be frightened for him? More importantly, why did he look so concerned about
me
?

He returned a few minutes later, his stride stiff with tension.

“Did you find anyone?”

“No, and no sign of anyone being inside.” He looked up and down the street. “I don’t want you sleeping alone tonight. I’m worried they might come back.”

The last thing I wanted was to spend the night with Joe. “That’s so sweet of you, but I’ll be fine. I’ve got Muffy.” I started walking toward the front porch, Muffy trotting next to me.

Joe followed behind.

“Joe, I told you, I’m fine,” I said, walking in the front door. I started to close it on him, but he grabbed the edge.

“You’ve got two choices, Rose. Either I spend the night with you or I call the police to report the break-in. Which is it?”

I usually preferred the none-of-the-above answers, but lately those weren’t working out so well. I sighed, irritated. “Fine, you can spend the night.”

“Don’t sound so enthusiastic.”

It was hard to get enthusiastic about sleeping with someone who hid a gun in your shed.

“I’m gonna go lock up my house. I’ll be right back.”

I peeked out the front window and watched him walk home. When he turned to climb his porch steps, his face looked anxious, not sinister. I began to have second thoughts about his motives.

I put on the ugliest nightgown I could find, which wasn't hard. I had a whole drawer full of them, helping my goal to look as undesirable as possible.

Joe raised his eyebrows when he saw me, but didn't say anything. He led me to my bed and waited while I climbed in. Muffy jumped up and lay down next to me. I expected Joe to get in, but he kissed my forehead instead. “Don’t worry Rose. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” He stood up.

“Where are you goin’?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

“I’m gonna sleep in your Momma’s room. If someone breaks in again I’m gonna get the son of a bitch.” He left, walking toward the back of the house. He really planned to sleep back there.

I was so confused. Did he want to hurt me or not?

Too wound up to go to sleep, my mind tried to sort everything out. If Joe broke in before, why did he think someone broke in this time? I was no acting coach, but the surprise and worry on his face looked real. And if Joe didn’t really like me and care about me, why did he act so worried? If I hadn’t heard the message from Hilary, I would chalk all my fears up to an overactive imagination, but I couldn’t deny the message.

Everything’s going as planned. We have confirmation she was seen with him. Let me know if you find out anything. Otherwise we stick to the schedule
.

I couldn't trust Joe.

Chapter Twenty-One