A Suspicion of Strawberries (Scents of Murder Book 1) (18 page)

His love crossed the space between us, and I felt it wrap around my heart. “I can’t wait. And I mean that.”

“Just do me a favor.”

If he’d asked me to fly to the nearest star I’d have tried. “What’s that?”

“For tonight, drop this crusade of yours. Concentrate on us, and leave other people’s troubles and worries far away.”

I squeezed his hand and realized he’d been the talkative one tonight. It always meant something for Ben to open up like that, so I replied, “Tonight, that’s a promise. I love you, Ben.”

“And I love you, too.”

The first
whoosh
of fireworks being set off echoed from the bridge, followed by a spangle of lights in the dusk. Then came the ground-shaking
boom
. Ben slid his chair closer to mine and put his arm around me.

Tonight, regardless of what else had happened, my world was perfect. I’d be like Scarlett and worry about the other situation tomorrow. Or at least until the fireworks’ glow died away.

Chapter Seventeen

Despite my promise to Ben while we were at the river, I tossed and turned after settling in for the night. When I did sleep, I dreamed of Emily and Robert, her in a wedding dress and him in a tuxedo, while Melinda chased them. She was crying and held a baby in her arms. Then the baby disappeared. Emily and Robert’s laughter made Melinda sprout wings and fly away. I stood there, my hands tied with clothesline rope, while Ben had his back to me and couldn’t hear my cries for him to do something.

Wouldn’t a shrink have a field day with that dream? I laid there in the dark and stared at the evil clock that told me it was only three thirty.

Finally I threw off the covers and went to the medicine cabinet. This was definitely the last time I ate a hot link so late at night. Heartburn. I found a container of antacid, took some, then decided to get a cool drink.

The air conditioner rumbled in the window as I passed it on the way to the kitchen. Tonight my normally snug home felt yawning and empty. I thought of Di’s home, filled to the brim with love and clutter and chaos. The clutter and chaos would drive me nuts, but I wouldn’t mind a home at least filled with love. And controlled chaos. My independence, once worn like a badge of accomplishment, now seemed rusted and old.

How many times over the years had Ben hinted that I should ask him to come home? I couldn’t blame him for not being straight-out forthright about what he wanted, and maybe my prickliness had shot him down before he’d had a chance to speak.

What if I had said, “Ben, please come home so we can start our life together” three or four years ago? I wouldn’t be here, renting my great-aunt’s old shotgun house and listening to the air conditioner rattle the walls in the middle of the night.

“Right now you’re alone. Just like Melinda. Just like Charla. Just like Emily, even though she thinks she’s found someone.”

So I poured myself a glass of ice water, and I prayed. For Melinda, Emily, even Robert, although I didn’t hold too high an opinion of him. And for Ben and me, of course. I’d been having more of these heart-to-hearts with God, when I wasn’t just begging for His help to keep my business afloat. What kind of a relationship is it when the only time the one you love talks to you is when they want something? So I was trying to rip my focus from my fear about life, love, and solving a murder, and focus on how much God wanted to be a part of everything I did.

The trouble about living in a town like Greenburg is, like I said before, church is something you do. It’s easy to get involved in the whole flurry of activities and warm fuzzies, but when the bottom drops out of your world, all the going-through-the-motions won’t hold you up.

Maybe that’s what I realized again once I’d finished praying. All I knew is that by 4:00 a.m., I was ready to crash. That, and I knew I had to call Melinda as soon as it was good manners to call someone.

That time didn’t arrive until nine in the morning. My cell phone’s battery was dead, so I looked up the number for the Thacker residence and called from my house phone for Melinda. I couldn’t leave for the store until I’d spoken to her. Not after my fitful night’s sleep and only one cup of coffee. In fact, I decided to drop by Higher Grounds and splurge on a high-octane mocha.

“Oh, I’m sorry but she’s not here,” came a woman’s voice. “Melinda hasn’t lived here for quite some time. She lives with Emily and Ch. . .with Emily.”

This was news to me, since I didn’t run in the same circles as the Thackers. I ran in circles enough trying to operate a business and still make sure my parents knew I loved them.

“I’m the one who’s sorry for disturbing you, ma’am. I’ll try Emily’s then.”

Of course this meant I needed to go to the store and go through the records from Charla’s party to find Emily’s phone number, so I headed out before I got distracted.

I frowned when I passed Higher Grounds and saw the Closed sign. Poor Trudy. She was probably cleaning up the damage from the break-in.

Which made me think of my own encounter with the thieves. Nothing had been disturbed in my store. If anything, this confirmed to me that the break-in couldn’t have been linked to the others. Why trash some stores and leave mine intact? It didn’t make sense.

Once I arrived at the store, I opened for business. Maybe a tour bus would take a scenic route to Nashville, pass through Greenburg, and happen upon Tennessee River Soaps. A girl can dream.

I found the file from Charla’s party and looked up Charla’s home number. When Melinda answered, her tone sounded guarded.

“Melinda, it’s Andi Clark. Um, I was calling to see how you were.”

“I’m doing well, thanks. For a while I was pretty tired, but I’m back to work.”

“That’s good to hear.” How could I ask without prying or playing dumb? I didn’t want to stoop to out-and-out subterfuge by asking a question I already knew the answer to. “I have to admit, it was pretty scary seeing that happen to you.”

“I–I’m so glad you were there. You don’t know me very well, but you even showed up at the hospital, and that was very kind of you.”

“You were in trouble, and I wanted to help.”

“Thanks.” The line hummed.

“I still mean that, Melinda. I know you’ve been through a lot and—”

“Like I said, thanks. But I’m fine now. Life goes on, you know. I’ve just got to figure out what that means for me.”

“So do we all. Well, I’ll let you go.” At the risk of sounding pushy, I ventured another probe. “If you need anything, I’m here.”

“Thanks.” The line went dead.

Right, she was fine, just like my quarterly sales had gone through the roof after a great second half of the month of June.

The rest of the morning crawled. For some reason that tour bus I hoped would drive by never stopped, so I downloaded some Internet orders and breathed a prayer of thanks.

A hunch niggled at me. What about Robert? Did he know about the baby? Ben would tell me just to leave it alone, but I had to know. I wasn’t sure if it made any difference in motivation for murder, but perhaps I could learn something more about Melinda and Emily and where they stood with Robert.

I packed up my Internet orders to ship and headed to the post office. A side trip by Robert’s law office wouldn’t take long. Once I had my customers’ orders safely on their way, I drove to Robert’s office. The guy probably already thought I was loony after my last meeting with him, when Di tagged along, but I really didn’t care.

His receptionist greeted me with the same flat tone she’d used before. “He happens to have a few minutes, if you must speak with him.”

“Yes, I must.”

She disappeared behind the walnut door and emerged a moment later. “Mr. Robertson can see you now.”

I smiled my thanks and entered Robert’s office. “Good morning, and thanks for seeing me again on short notice.”

“How can I help you, Ms. Clark?” Today he wore a periwinkle button-down shirt, its long sleeves rolled up on his forearms. Great color. Brought out the shade of blue of his eyes. So very Brad Pitt. So not my type.

“I have some family law questions I was hoping you could help me with.”

“Go right ahead.” That charming smile emerged again, the same one he’d used with Emily the night before. Maybe he just smiled like that at all women. I was glad Ben didn’t. I’d probably want to bop him on the head if he did.

“Well, what if an unmarried couple were to, um. . .” Oh, this was going badly. My face flamed. “If a woman were to get pregnant out of wedlock, is she under any obligation to tell the father of the child?”

“No, not to my understanding. There are some who would insist she must, but there’s no legal obligation.”

“Even though she could in turn serve him with a paternity suit if she so chose.”

Robert nodded. “It doesn’t sound quite fair, does it?”

“I imagine that would be a tough situation to be in, a man fathering a child he knows nothing about and still being legally obligated if the mother so chose.” I met his gaze evenly, and he returned my stare without blinking.

“I agree. Which is why couples shouldn’t enter into relationships lightly.” He wore a quizzical expression.

“So she could go after him if she wanted to, even get a DNA test if need be?”

“That’s correct.”

“Well. . .” I tried to choose my words carefully. “What if she miscarried a child? Would she have to tell her, um, the father of the child?”

“As I said before, she’s under no obligation to tell him.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know if you’d fathered a child?”

The expression he gave confirmed the suspicion I had: The man thought I was bonkers.

“Ms. Clark.” He shook his head. “Is this for your own personal information, or someone else’s?”

My throat tightened and my face must have been as red as the sunburn on my nose. Surely he didn’t think—

“No, no, no. Not for me.” I coughed. “I’m asking on behalf of a friend.” This sounded worse and worse.
“It’s not for me; it’s for a friend,”
a mocking voice whispered in my ear.

“Of course, of course.” He smiled at me again, and I tried not to look him in the eye, but instead at his perfect nose. “If you’ll excuse me. . .”

“Thanks for your time.” I fled the office. What a pointless errand. Embarrassment didn’t begin to cover what I felt. My last glance back at Robert showed he’d already dismissed me from his world.

Once in the security of my Jeep, I took some deep breaths and realized that even if I tried to go back and explain the reasons behind my questions, I’d be betraying Melinda’s private business. I realized I should explain to Ben just in case anyone around town looked at him askance. People who knew us, though, knew our standards.

And from Robert’s reaction, I didn’t worry about him mentioning my babbling questions to anyone. After all, there was such a thing as attorney-client confidentiality. Of course I wasn’t exactly his client, but he surely thought I was a little. . .off.

I leaned my head against the steering wheel and stifled a scream. It was then I noticed a buzzing coming from my purse. My phone! I’d forgotten I’d set it to Vibrate. I scrounged until I found it.

“Andi, it’s Pastor Tim. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”

My heart dropped into my feet. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s about one of your Sunday school students.”

“What happened?”

“Seth Mitchell has been arrested with several of his friends. An anonymous tipster placed them at the site of the latest break-in. In fact, it sounds like there’s multiple charges against them.”

“Oh, no. I’ve been worried about him. I was hoping we could help him somehow.”

“I know you have. I guess they also found some evidence linking him and his buddies to the crime.”

“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll be praying for Seth. And for his family.”

“Thanks, Andi.”

I flipped my phone shut and tried not to cry.
Lord, I feel so inadequate. I didn’t do enough.

Chapter Eighteen

As best I knew, Seth remained in jail the next few days. Come Sunday morning, my high school Sunday school class was abuzz. Evidently he and his friends had several charges against them and their families couldn’t afford bail. Either that or they wanted to teach their kids a lesson.

One student blared aloud about the three young men being transferred to the county jail as of Friday. “They’re all eighteen. That means they’re adults.”

I tried to whistle through my fingers to grab their attention. A few of the students swiveled in my direction, and the others followed suit. “Y’all, I know you like to help the Greenburg Dispatch spread news, but let’s not start their trial here.” Although I had several questions of my own I’d like answered.

Once the class settled down, we lost no time in taking prayer requests. Seth was at the top of the list. A few somber-faced kids wondered aloud if they could have helped him.

Sadie spoke up. “But what if some people don’t want help? I mean, we all hear the same lesson every week and can read the same Bible. So why doesn’t it stick, if you know what I mean?”