Lethal Lasagna (14 page)

I stood, puzzled as to why he appeared angry with me. “I met Ms. Cooper today at the flea market and put a bug in her ear about Darlene, Karen, and Jack.” I moved to the door, ready to leave.

He stood his ground. “So? What does that have to do with him stopping by here?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you the best part. He and Ms. Cooper are dating. I knew if I told her, she’d tell him, and he’d look into it.” I felt pretty proud of myself. “I was right, too.”

His voice came out unusually low. “And when were you going to tell me about this? Does he plan to look into my background, too?”

What was he talking about? “Why would he investigate you?”

“Why not? Have you told him we’re working on this together? Or is he to assume you are keeping me around to make sure I didn’t do sweet Mitzi in?” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

I must be dense because none of this made sense to me. “I can’t remember if I told him or not. You were standing here, why didn’t you mention it?”

“You really don’t understand, do you?” He uncrossed his arms and frowned.

I shook my head no.

“Then I guess it really doesn’t matter then. Come on we’re going to be late.” He took my elbow in his rough hand and propelled me out of the house and into his truck. He closed the door a little harder than I thought necessary.

On the way to the church, I asked, “Did you get the rocker finished?”

“Almost. I’ll work on it some more tomorrow and then deliver it sometime in the afternoon.” He focused his gaze on the road. His voice had lost its anger, but he still seemed a little put out.

I fiddled with the strap of my pocketbook. Apologizing wasn’t something I was used to doing. Especially when I really didn’t understand what I was apologizing for. But, I bit my lip hard and then pressed forward. “Brandon, I’m sorry. I should have mentioned that you were helping me with Mitzi’s case. I’ll call him and let him know first thing in the morning.”

He pulled into the church parking lot. “If that’s what you want to do, fine.” Brandon got out of the truck and came around my side to open the door.

We walked to the building in silence. Once more, he opened a door for me and guided us into the meeting room. It was a large room with lots of long tables and benches. The scent of freshly baked cookies greeted us.

Brandon moved off to visit with several other men while Lori nabbed me. “I was hoping you’d come tonight. I’d like to introduce you to some of the other single ladies in our group. This is Mary, Cheryl, and Lilly. Ladies, Claire.”

“Nice to meet you all.” I glanced over my shoulder to where Brandon stood talking. His gaze met mine for a brief moment, and then he glanced away.

Cheryl smiled. “I see you arrived with Brandon. He’s nice.”

“Yes, he is.”

It wasn’t long before the three women were drilling me. Where had we met? Were we dating? If not, why? I answered all their questions and asked a few of my own. It was amazing how quickly the four of us got along.

“The pizza’s here.” One of the men announced.

I stepped up to help the women. We placed the boxes in a row down one table. Set up drinks on another and games on several more tables. We served ourselves, and the game playing began.

“Come play Bridge with us,” Mary said, pulling me toward two men who waited with plates piled high with pizza. Each had found a can of soda to wash down the carbs.

I grabbed my plate and let her pull me along. “Tim, David, this is Claire Parker.”

A smile touched Tim’s lips. “Here comes trouble.”

He had no idea.

Something about him seemed familiar. I tried to place where we’d met before but soon forgot all about it as the game started. Mary sat across from me and was my partner; David and Tim sat across from each other.

We laughed and played for about an hour. I learned Tim was a construction worker and David an RN. Both men were nice and asked about my days as a postal worker. Even as I got to know them, I was very aware of Brandon and his playmates. One woman, I hadn’t met yet, hung onto his arm and laughed loudly whenever possible. The other woman seemed quiet and only had eyes for the man who sat beside her.

“That’s Susan Butters. She’s the biggest flirt here, and her favorite man is Brandon.” Mary whispered in my ear when we both went back for additional slices of pizza.

A loud round of laughter came from her table. “I can see that.” I muttered.

We turned to look at the table. Mary leaned close once more. “That really wasn’t a kind thing I just said. Please forget it. Susan isn’t really bad. She’s just lonely and thinks that if she hurries and remarries she won’t be any more.”

“What happened to her husband?” I asked as we headed back to the table.

Mary stopped short. “He died in a car crash a couple of years ago. He liked the races and had just started racing himself when the accident happened.”

“That’s too bad.”

Now was as good a time as any to mention Mitzi. “Did you know Mitzi?” I asked as we sat down at the table once more.

The other woman smiled. Her clear gray eyes looked across at Tim. “Yes, we did. She was very sweet, and we miss her.”

Mitzi and Mary would have been good friends, I realized. Mary had the same soft voice and sweet disposition as Mitzi. Why hadn’t I seen it before?

“I know. I miss her very much, too.”

Tim got up. “I need a fresh drink.” He picked up his empty can and left the table.

Mary and David exchanged knowing looks.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset him.” I watched the tall thin man drop his can into the wastebasket and go out the door.

Mary laid a hand over mine. “It’s okay. He and Mitzi were dating. Tim was pretty serious, but I think Mitzi just enjoyed his friendship.”

I hadn’t put this Tim with the one that Mitzi had been dating. She’d spoken of him, and I knew she’d felt the same way he had; only she’d been too afraid to tell him. Should I tell him how she’d felt? Or leave it be?

In my minds eye, I remembered seeing Tim’s face among the mourners at Mitzi’s funeral. We’d never met, but I’d seen him there. Tears had run down his face freely and unashamedly. I’d thought at the time that he must have loved her very much and wondered who he was.

David leaned forward. “He’s coming back. Can we drop the subject?”

“Sure,” I agreed, sad that I’d caused Tim pain.

Tim smiled as he approached our table. “Sorry about that. The older I get the more I have to go.” As if he realized what he’d just said in front of ladies he turned three shades of red.

Everyone at the table burst out in laughter.

****

For the second time that day, I found myself driven home by someone besides the person I’d gone with. “Thanks, Mary for the ride home.”

“No problem. I’m sorry Tim spilled grape juice on that lovely skirt. I hope you can get it out.”

I unfastened my seatbelt. “I hope so, too. Thanks again.”

She waved as she drove off.

Sprocket ran to the fence for a quick pat on the head. “Sorry ole boy, no time to talk. I have to get inside to see if I can get this stain out of my skirt. Tomorrow we’ll go for a nice long walk, I promise.”

Maybe I’d take him to the park, I thought as I opened the back door and shut it behind me. The stickiness of the fruit drink slid down my legs as I shimmied out of the juice-covered skirt.

I held it up to the light and realized it was ruined, just like my evening. With tears in my eyes, I dropped the skirt into a basket that sat in front of the washer. Brandon hadn’t even noticed when I’d left.

Why should he have?

Susan had held his attention all evening, not me.

Feeling sorry for myself, I traveled down the hallway in the dark. When I opened my bedroom door, a horrible odor greeted me. I reached up for the light switch but it didn’t light the room as I’d expected. Thinking the bulb had burned out, I stepped forward to find my bedside lamp.

Something wet rolled under my feet. The sandals slipped in what felt like goo. I tried to catch myself but felt the air whoosh out as I hit the floor with a crash. Excruciating pain traveled up the fingers of my right hand and into my wrist. It snapped. My head hit something hard and then all went black.

****

The last thing a woman wants to see when she wakes up with a bad headache and sharp pain is the butt of a chicken. I pushed the bloody mass away from me.

From the streetlamp shinning through the window, I saw what had caused me to fall. The body of a chicken, a wet substance I figured was chicken blood, and guts littered the floor of my room.

Taking a few moments to test out my feet, I stood. My hand felt two sizes too big for my wrist. I moved to the bedside lamp, trying to avoid the mess in the floor. It refused to come on also.

I eased my way back to the hall. The light switch here felt cool. Light illuminated the passage and me. My blue top and underwear were covered in blood and gook. I gagged.

I rushed to the guest bathroom and threw up my pizza. My head ached, my hand was on fire, and everything stank. I kicked off my sandals and retrieved the ruined skirt from the washer.

How long had I been out? I looked the glowing numbers on the microwave. Twenty minutes. Pulling the bottle of aspirin from the cabinet, I decided to go see if Brandon was home yet.

I stepped through the screen door and onto the porch. It banged behind me. Brandon stuck his head out from around the trees and shrubberies. “What in the world happened to you?”

He was around the greenery before I could answer. Tears filled my eyes and the next thing I knew I was sobbing against his shirt.

Brandon opened the screen door and led me inside. “Here, sit down.” He pulled a clean handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped my face.

“Thanks.” I sniffled.

He gently picked up my right hand. “That looks broken. What happened?”

I pulled my hand back and cradled it against my body. “I fell over something in the bedroom.”

“Where did all this blood come from?”

My head hurt. I reached up but the spot where it hurt the worst was clean of the sticky mess. “I’m not sure. I guess from the bedroom.”

He got up and walked back to the bedroom. Minutes went by and I began to get worried. It killed my head but I called out. “Brandon, what are you doing?”

“Getting a flashlight to see what you tripped on.”

Great. That’s just what I needed, my future boyfriend to see I tripped on a chicken butt. I groaned and put my head into my left hand.

A few moments later he returned, his face colorless. “I’m calling the Sheriff.”

TITLE

Sheriff Trucker arrived with Detective Howard right behind him. The sheriff is a young man with bright red hair and a toothy smile. Both men hurried to the bedroom. While they were gone, Brandon went to the kitchen and made an ice pack using a plastic baggie.

“That is some mess you have back there,” the Sheriff commented when he came back.

I wondered where the detective was but didn’t ask. My head hurt too badly. “I guess I should go look for myself.” The room began to spin as I tried to push off the couch. I felt my body sway.

“Sit down.” Brandon pulled me back. “We need to get you to a hospital.” He applied the ice pack to the back of my head once more.

“We will, Mr. Harvest. But first I need to ask a couple of quick questions.” He pulled out a notebook similar to the one Detective Howard carries.

I closed my eyes and tried to will away the pain in my wrist and hand.

“Ms. Parker?”

So much for willing away the pain. I reopened my eyes. “Yes?”

“I know you don’t feel well, but I have to ask. How did this happen?” His pen was poised above the paper. He smiled encouragingly.

I sighed. “I came home from church. Went to my room. Tried to turn on the light, it didn’t work. Took a step into my room and slipped and fell.”

He wrote as fast as I spoke. I think we were both trying to get this over with as soon as possible.

“Good. How do you think all that blood and those dead animals got into your room?”

I sat up straighter. “What dead animals? All I saw was one dead chicken, and I’m not sure how it got in there.”

“Um, hum.” He made more notes.

Careful not to make my head hurt any worse than it already did, I turned to look at Brandon. “What’s he talking about?”

“You didn’t see all the blood and stuff in there?” The sheriff hooked his thumb over his shoulder to indicate my bedroom.

I ignored him and continued to look into Brandon’s concerned brown eyes. He spoke to me as if I were a child. “The chicken was right in the doorway; that’s why you fell. There are other things in there and blood all over the walls. It looks like a slaughter house.”

I continued to stare at Brandon. Who would do such a thing? And how had they gotten into the house? I had opened the backdoor with my key.

Someone cleared his throat. Sure it was the sheriff. I moved my head slowly to face him. Detective Howard had joined us. I hadn’t heard him enter the room. This scared me. Was I losing my hearing as well as my mind?

Detective Howard knelt in front of me. He took my left hand in both of his and said slowly and softly. “Claire, you have to answer our questions. We need to stop the guy who did this, and we need your help to do it.”

Now I knew I was losing it. Mean old Detective Howard was being nice and seemed to care. This couldn’t be right. I leaned forward and whispered, “Who are you and what have you done to the tough guy I’m used to?”

He whispered back. “I’m serious.”

I removed my hand from his and sat up, still confused but willing to help. My gaze settled on the sheriff who looked as befuddled as I felt. “What was the question again?”

In a slow steady voice he asked. “Did you see the mess in there?”

“No. The lights didn’t work. I slipped and fell. When I woke up, I turned around and went to the hallway. That’s where I turned on the light and saw this,” I indicated with my left hand the front of my dress and my legs, “gunk on me.”

Detective Howard looked to the sheriff. “The lights are working now.”

Brandon spoke up. “I put the light bulb back in.”

Both men turned on him. “Would you repeat that?” the detective asked.

“Claire came to me looking like this and hurt. I got her settled in here and then went to see what had tripped her. The room was pitch black. I found a flashlight in the hall pantry, and when I realized that the light bulb was lying on her bedside table, I reinserted it. Right after that, I called you guys.”

The detective shook his head and stared at the floor, the sheriff sighed and asked. “Did you think to use something besides your hand to touch the light bulb?”

“No sir.”

I couldn’t see his face but knew by the sound of his voice Brandon was calling himself everything bad in the books. To take the focus off him, I asked. “How soon can I clean up my room?”

“Not for awhile. I’m going to call in a team to dust for finger prints,” the sheriff answered.

Then he fired off a question of his own. “How do you suppose this person got inside the house?”

“I don’t know. The back door was locked when I came home.”

Brandon cleared his throat. “The front door was locked, too.”

“Check the windows. If someone came in that way, we’ll find out.” Detective Howard motioned one of his men into action.

At this time of night, I doubted they’d find any thing and decided to give up on my poor trampled flower beds. He gave orders for another man to look around inside.

“I have one more question, and then I’ll let you go.” The Sheriff said. “Who would do this to you?”

Again I was dumbfounded. Who would do this? As far as I knew, I didn’t have any enemies, and I don’t think I’ve ruffled enough feathers to justify this kind of retaliation. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“I think you should know that the perpetrator left you a message.” He had my attention.

“And what did it say? Did he leave a note? Can you get prints off it?” I asked.

Once more, Detective Howard interrupted. But, instead of his usual no-nonsense voice he used his kind, one. “It’s in blood on your bedroom wall.”

My voice cracked. “In blood?”

“I’m afraid so. Whoever did this wrote. Mind your own business.” His normally steely blue eyes were now pools of concern.

“You think it has something to do with Mitzi, don’t you?”

He nodded. “I’m afraid so. I tried to get you to stay out of the investigation. I just wish you had heeded my warnings.”

Everyone sat quietly. Now I wish I’d listened to him, too. I felt stinging in my eyes. Twin tears trickled down my cheeks.

“Gentlemen, I’d like to take her to the hospital now.” There was no doubt that Brandon meant business this time. “You can follow us, if you want to and ask all the questions you need once a doctor has seen her.”

Both policemen stood. “We’re done here for now.”

****

The next afternoon, I was released from the hospital. The hand wasn’t broken but badly sprained. The head wound wasn’t anything to be concerned about. I had aches and pains all over but other than a headache and a sore wrist, I’d been given a clean bill of health.

Megan drove me home. As we pulled into the driveway, she protested again. “Mom, I don’t like you staying here after what happened.”

“I’m fine, Sweetie. Whoever did this wanted to leave a message, not hurt me.”

“Sure, and kids who go trick or treating do it so that they can give the candy to children starving in Africa.” She parked the car and jumped out before I had a chance to retort.

What could I have said to that anyway?

She helped me from the car. “I see Greg and Brandon are already here.”

I’d wondered where Brandon had disappeared to after Megan’s arrival at the hospital the previous night but hadn’t asked. “It would appear so.” I walked to the fence to pet Sprocket.

He licked my good hand and looked up at me with big sad eyes. “I know Sprocket, I promised a nice long walk. But as you can tell, my body guard isn’t going to allow it to happen today.” I knelt down and whispered. “I’ll ditch the warden tomorrow, and we’ll go, I promise.”

Sprocket barked and licked me again. I stood and proceeded to the back door.

Megan patted his head, too, and then followed. Before we got too far, she called to the dog. “Promises were made to be broken, Sprocket old boy.”

That
’
s what you think, young lady. I entered the house with attitude. My daughter was not going to tell me what I could and couldn’t do.

Brandon gave me a big hug as I entered the bright kitchen. His arms felt warm and secure. He smelled of sunshine and wood. “Welcome, home.”

I leaned back and smiled. “Thanks.” His warm eyes eased away a little of the concern I’d had about returning to the house. I didn’t want to stay with anyone else and knew home would be the only place I’d be allowed to stay, alone. Thanks to his comfort, I knew I’d made the right decision.

Megan accepted Greg’s hug, too. She laughed. “Wow, I should come home with mom more often.”

It was time to show my family I could take care of myself. I pulled out of Brandon’s arms and said, “I’d like to see my room now.”

“Are you sure?” Brandon asked.

Megan moved from her husband’s embrace. “Mom, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

I didn’t give a rats foot what my daughter thought was a good idea or not. I was going to see that room…and that was that, as they say. “I’m a full grown woman, Megan. I can handle it.” I headed toward the hallway.

Brandon caught up with me. “It’s not pretty.”

“Maybe not, but I have to face it.” I continued on, grateful he continued behind me.

The door stood before me. I inhaled and opened it. The stench wasn’t as bad as it had been the night before. Yellow tape barred us from entry.

Still, I looked. I’d expected to see little animal corpses all about the room, but only saw the blood on the floor and walls. I turned to ask Brandon about them.

He answered before I could voice the question. “The police took the rats and chicken. They were taking them to the lab for testing.”

“Rats and chickens?” I wrinkled my nose.

“Four rats and one chicken.” He corrected.

My gaze moved back to the room. Blood saturated my carpet and walls.

“What are they testing them for?”

He shrugged. “No idea. They don’t exactly offer information to people who have already tampered with evidence.”

I hugged him around the waist. His arm came around my shoulders. Instead of bringing more attention to the fact that he might have accidentally removed fingerprints from the crime scene, I asked. “How am I going to clean this up?”

“We’ll help you.” Megan leaned her head on Greg’s shoulder. They had followed us and stood beside me.

Brandon rested his chin on the top of my head. “I’ll help, too.” His breath shifted through my hair.

I leaned against him. “Thanks. I appreciate the help.” It felt good to have someone to lean on. I knew we probably should talk about what had happened last night at the church but for right now, I was content to forget the whole thing ever happened.

“We’ll need the okay from the police first. But we should be able to get in there tomorrow,” Brandon said. His hand stroked my arm, sending shivers up my spine and into my hair.

“Until then, would you like to see your new room?” Greg asked, turning Megan toward the guest room.

Reluctantly, Brandon and I parted. We followed Greg and Megan into the guest room. A pretty pink rose quilt covered the bed. My flower prints from the other bedroom now covered the walls. It looked almost the same as my old bedroom did, only now smaller.

“It’s beautiful.” I smiled.

Megan hugged me. “I’m glad you like it, I had to move it all while the police were here. But since they had an emergency pop up, I got permission to move your clothes in here later.” I started to protest but she continued. “The doctor said for you to take it easy for the rest of the weekend.”

Brandon took my left hand and gently pulled me from the room. “In that case, come along. I have another surprise for you.” He continued until we got to the living room. His body had been blocking my view but when he stepped to the side, I saw a brand new wooden rocking chair.

“It’s beautiful.” I walked over and sat down. The seat felt soft and cool. I’d barely settled into it when a knocking started at the back door.

For a brief moment, my heart jumped with fear. Then I realized that whoever destroyed my bedroom wouldn’t knock on the door to get in. Only then did I realize I needed to go to my heavenly Father with this fear. Before, I’d been aware of it but had not felt it seep into my bones like it did now.

Megan headed toward the sound. “I’ll get it.”

“Brandon, this is a wonderful piece of workmanship. Thanks.” My voice shook. I suddenly felt tired and worn out.

“Hey, look who’s here,” Megan said, leading Gloria into the room.

Gloria rushed forward and hugged me. “Oh Claire, I am so sorry. When Megan called, I decided I’d stay a couple of days with you. I hope you don’t mind.”

What did one say? No, please don’t stay! I already have two people staying with me already? What?

Megan saved me, “If you’re going to stay, then I may go home tonight. But, if you get tired or need to leave let me know, I’ll be right back to take care of Mom.”

Okay, maybe “saved” wasn’t the right word. How old did she think I was? “I don’t need anyone to take care of me, Megan. I’ve been taking care of myself for fifty-two years!”

“Uh-oh. Megan, I think it’s time we go. You’ve upset your mother, and that’s the last thing she needs now.” Greg opened the front door.

Megan came over and hugged me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

Had I overreacted? She was simply trying to help. “Me, too. I think I’m just over tired.” I returned her hug and then faked a yawn.

“Well, that’s understandable. How about we move you over to the couch? Maybe you can take a little nap.” Gloria headed down the hallway. “I’ll go get a lightweight blanket.

“Mom, I’ll call tomorrow.” Megan promised as Greg shoved her toward the door.

Greg waved and said. “Get some rest. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks. I will.” I sighed as they left.

Brandon held out a hand. I put my good hand in his and allowed him to pull me to my feet. “I’m glad you like the chair, but I have to agree with Gloria, you need to get some rest.” He walked with me to the couch and watched as I lay down.

Gloria hurried back into the room carrying a blanket and pillow. She pushed the pillow under my head and snapped the spread open and let it drift over me. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“I wish I had my book.” I realized the book I’d been reading was still in the bedroom. “But, that’s not possible.”