Lethal Dose of Love (39 page)

“What!” She tried to sit up but fell back in pain. “How?”

“He probably skirted the shadows behind the properties,” Vaughn said.

“It’s not a he, it’s a she,” Payton said. “I got hold of a breast.”

“What?” both men exclaimed at the same time.

The wail of an ambulance stopped further questions.

Chapter 45

Aden brought Payton home from the hospital just after 4 a.m. She’d insisted on returning home even though doctors wanted to keep her overnight. She lay on the love seat in the living room, pillows bundled under her head, a patchwork quilt someone had brought from the guest bedroom tucked tight. She could barely keep her eyes open. Whatever they gave her made her dopey as hell, but at least it eased the pain.

Three tired looking people sat in a semi-circle around her: Vaughn, Aden and Sergeant Espinoza. The sergeant was the only one who looked alert. He held the customary notebook in his lap, and a pen in his right hand.

“Why aren’t you out looking for her?” Aden aimed a glare at both Espinoza and Vaughn.

The sergeant scowled over a pair of half glasses Payton hadn’t seen before. “I have a dozen men on it. She won’t get away.”

“She already got away. I want to know—”

“Calm down, Mr. Green. Overreacting won’t get us anywhere.”

“Overreacting? You people hounded me when—”

“Aden.” Even though Payton could speak in little more than a whisper, the men shut up. “Let them do their jobs.”

“She’s right,” Vaughn stood. “I’ll get out there and help.”

“Is there anywhere you can think of that she might go?” Espinoza asked.

“Outside of the places I told you, no,” Payton said.

“So, you agree that this attack is related to Sean’s murder?” Aden asked.

Espinoza nodded. “Since Ms. Winters took it upon herself to become, shall we say, a target, yes, I’d say the two situations are related.” Espinoza stood and flipped the notebook shut. When he didn’t slip it into the usual pocket, Payton realized it was because he didn’t have a pocket. He was wearing pajamas, white with wide brown stripes that made him look like a clown. “I hate to think what might have happened here. Maybe this will teach you a lesson.”

“Sergeant…” This from Aden.

Espinoza sighed. “I’m through here for now. I’ll be back in the,” he gave an exhausted glance out the window where the first signs of dawn were creeping over the houses, “morning. Take care.”

Aden walked him and Vaughn to the door. Vaughn threw a wave over his shoulder. Did he also glare at Aden? Payton didn’t want to think about male rivalry right now.

She caught the end of something Espinoza said, “…two men watching the house.”

“Four,” Aden and Vaughn said in unison.

****

The scent of rosemary washed over her along with the heat of her attacker’s breath. The golden cat slashed downward. Familiar eyes gazed into hers for one second before the pain hit. Payton came awake with a start. She was still on the couch, cold because the quilt had fallen on the floor. Thank goodness she hadn’t knocked Maggie off also. The little white kitten, curled in the fetal position, purred noisily near her waist. Payton was thirsty and tried to sit up but the shoulder brace hindered movement.

She almost called for Aden. Where was he anyway? She blinked away the nightmare. The sun shone between the blinds. The length of the shadows said it was late. She should get up and open the shop.

The pain meds had worn off. Every inch of her screamed for relief. And coffee. Even so, Payton lay back down, picked up the quilt and pulled it over her. During the assault, she thought she’d been defending herself against a man who wanted to rob, and most likely rape her; a man who wanted to laud his power and strength over a weaker being. The fact that the assailant was a woman changed the complexion of the situation. Or maybe the situation changed when Payton’s suspicions about the woman’s identity became reality.

How foolish she’d been not to keep her suspicions to herself. She’d practically begged for this beating, from a person with the most amazing stamina Payton had ever seen. Adrenaline was an awesome thing. Hospital personnel had reinserted her arm in its socket and X-rayed her throat. No permanent damage—except to her psyche. Just another thing to make her stronger. Every time Payton had cried to her grandmother over something that happened, Grandma said, “All things happen to make us stronger, little one.” And so, Payton had gone through life stronger after each confrontation. More powerful than a locomotive. Able to leap tall…

Until Cameron’s death. Then her whole building of bricks tumbled down on top of her. She sighed.

It didn’t matter right now that Lake Ontario and her attacker had different motives. In less than two weeks, Payton had faced her own mortality twice. Both times she’d won. She couldn’t help wondering if her luck was wearing a bit thin.

****

“Find her yet?” Aden asked.

The sound of his voice made her turn from where she sat at the dining room table. The meds were working. She’d gotten some sleep. Aden had put a Gallery Closed sign on the door, but the house hadn’t been the slightest bit quiet. All day, an army of forensic people tromped up and down the stairs.

Vaughn entered the front door and sat across the table. To his, “You okay?” she nodded. Then he said, “I found bloody footprints on the sidewalk. Followed them until they petered out at the intersection of Main and Broad. From the amount of blood in your room, I don’t imagine she could get too far. Don’t worry, we’ll find her.”

Payton shivered at the thought of what her precious bedroom must look like. Aden set a glass of ice water beside the one he’d brought moments ago. Her hero. Make sure Vaughn knows who’s in charge.

She snapped her fingers near the floor and made squeaking noises.

“Shh.” Aden handed her a notepad and pen. “You know they told you not to talk. Write what you want and I’ll get it for you.”

Cat
, Payton wrote.

“Cat?” His brow wrinkled.

“They have whiskers, say meow and use a litter box,” said Vaughn.

The sarcasm didn’t make Aden smile, but it did Payton.

“She’s got a kitten now,” said Vaughn, inserting his bit toward male domination. “It’s white with blue eyes. And its name is Maggie.”

Aden scowled but went in search of the feline. That’s when Payton realized the sliders were open. She wrote
outdoors?
on the notepad. Vaughn too, set out in search of the white ball of fluff. She rose and shuffled back to the sofa. When she awoke the quilt was bunched against her chin. And a small white kitten lay under her chin.

Payton sat up and stretched anything that didn’t ache; which wasn’t much. Maggie meowed. Payton ruffled the soft fur. The house was quiet and dark. How long had she slept? A sound, soft like paper against paper, came from the kitchen. Maggie stopped purring, her ears went back and her fur stood on end. Knowing she couldn’t jump down and be in the way, Payton set the kitten on the cushion and picked up a piece of bric-a-brac—one of Mamie’s favorite pieces—but it was heavy and comforting in her good hand. She hefted it overhead and tiptoed to the kitchen.

She rounded the corner from the dining area, heart thumping like a bass drum. There he was, wearing that striped dressing gown and a wide smile. Aden put down the newspaper, stood, grasped the statue and set it on the counter. He took her gingerly in his arms and held her. In this safe womb, she cried. And cried.

Aden was the first to break the embrace. He eased Payton onto a stool and set about dipping something into a bowl from a pot on the stove. He put the bowl in the microwave and punched buttons. Moments later he placed a delectable smelling dish of potato and herb soup before her. “I used herbs from your garden.”

She could get used to this.

“A bunch of people stopped by to see you. News sure travels fast around here.”

She wrote on the notepad.
Gossip committee in action.

Aden laughed. “Where’d you get the cat?”

Sylvie thought I needed a friend.

There was a knock on the glass doors. First Aden helped Maggie off the couch and then he flicked on the outside light and opened the door to admit Carter. Aden launched himself in Carter’s face. “Where’s your wife?”

Carter frowned but didn’t back up. “At her mother’s. She fell last night and broke her hip. Why?”

“Where have you been?”

“Dropping her off. She can’t see to drive at night. I repeat, why?”

“What’s your mother-in-law’s phone number?”

Carter’s frown deepened. Then he spun on a heel, slamming the sliding door.

Aden chased after Carter.

Chapter 46

Payton woke on the sofa. She counted eight chimes of the grandmother clock against the hallway wall. The house was otherwise silent. Aden must’ve gone home. Payton set Maggie on the floor and went upstairs feeling stiff but better than earlier.

She didn’t want to go in her bedroom. Memories would gush like floodwaters, but that’s where the clothes were. She pushed open the door. The blood had been completely cleaned up. The bed was now covered in the colorful spread from the top shelf in the closet. The carpet had been scrubbed and everything shone with cleanliness. A pervading odor of copper and bleach permeated the air. Payton went to shower where she leaned against the tiles letting the hot jets beat her skin to a bright red.

An hour later, dressed and ready—mostly—to face the world, Payton pulled open her front door. And nearly lost her coffee when both Aden and Vaughn stepped inside. “Where are you going?” they asked, conjoined twins today, instead of rivals.

“I have a shop to open.”

Aden took her elbow. “Come.”

They piled into Vaughn’s pickup, Payton in the middle. Vaughn jammed his foot to the floor. She almost smiled as the old-lady-driver turned into Mr. Cop. They took the turn at Main and Broad on what felt like two wheels. Where were they going?

Her unspoken question got answered when they screeched to a stop near
Tin Pan Galley.
Across the street, flames flickered inside Sean’s café. Two fire trucks and a gaggle of onlookers were already there. Vaughn sprang from the vehicle. Aden laid his arm across the back of the seat. Payton settled into the comfort of his embrace and as though they were at a drive-in movie, watched the firemen work. Once she started to ask something, but Aden shushed her.

An hour later, the fire was out and cleanup began. Smoke billowed out and hung overhead, scenting the air and making eyes burn.

“I wonder how it started,” she whispered.

“I don’t know.”

“I wonder if anyone’s inside.”

“They won’t be able to check till things cool down. Now, stop talking or I’ll take you home.” A moment later he said, “I’d say it won’t be worth opening the shop today.”

She nodded.

“Want to take a walk?”

She nodded again, feeling like the little bobbing dog in the back window of her grandfather’s T-bird. Aden helped her to the sidewalk.

They walked up the hill, arm in arm, like two people out for a Sunday stroll. Two people without the worries of an arrest warrant, burning buildings and maniacal murderesses. They walked a long time, along the farthest end of Broad Street, past the school and wide-open field where the air smelled less like lake and more like green, and clean. After a while, they turned and went to Payton’s. She’d been worried they’d find it too in flames. But it stood strong with its fresh coat of pastel yellow atop brand new stucco. Every previous time she approached her house, she felt pride in what she’d accomplished. A woman alone can get things done, just like Grandma declared.

Aden touched her arm. “Come on,” he said, tugging her off the sidewalk and across to his house.

Payton held back. “Maggie.”

The kitten waited at her front door. Payton couldn’t help sniffing the air for fire. Nothing, not even the ubiquitous scent of blood. But something wasn’t quite right.

Aden picked up the kitten and headed out the door.

“Wait.”

She could see him mentally tapping an impatient foot as Payton tiptoed upstairs and pushed open the door of the guest room. There, on one of the twin beds, was the object of last night’s All Points Bulletin. Mamie was beyond being a danger. Blood, drying to the color of raw nutmeg, caked the side of her face where Payton shoved it in with the bedroom lamp. Her stomach roiled at the sight of what she’d done. She stepped fearlessly into the room and dropped to her knees beside the bed. She put her hand on Mamie’s arm, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Mamie’s eyes fluttered open. Payton saw recognition. Mamie opened her mouth. A trickle of blood oozed from the corner, ran down her jaw and onto one of the red squares on the blanket. She whispered something Payton couldn’t understand.

“What?”

Mamie opened her mouth again. Payton put her ear near Mamie’s lips. “Sorry,” came the soft words. “So sorry.”

“Why?” Payton asked, but it was too late to list motives, to deliver explanations. Mamie gasped, shuddered and went limp. Whatever trials, troubles or worries had driven the woman to murder, were over.

Payton laid her head on Mamie’s blood-encrusted sleeve and wept tears of sorrow and forgiveness.