Death Wore Brown Shorts (Happy Holloway Mystery Book 1) (12 page)

A
nnie pushed back
with her toes and set the porch swing rocking. A warm breeze stirred a lock of hair so it obstructed her vision. She reached up and brushed it away. When she did, she discovered another tear on her lash. She’d thought the tears had stopped by now.

“I never thought anything about it,” Annie said. “Mr. Potts dying and why.”

“Cyanide in apple pie,” Jane said.

A small sob escaped Annie. She pressed fingers to her lips until it passed. “Why, Jane? Why would you do that? I don’t understand.”

Her sister, sitting beside her, turned to look at Annie. For the first time, Annie saw the madness that Donovan had hinted at but didn’t want to admit. That silly man had called it stress.

“He touched you, Annie,” Jane explained reasonably. “You cried. I couldn’t have that. When we were little, you know what Daddy told me every day?”

“I don’t want to know anything that man said.”

“He said keep Annie happy, Jane, no matter what it takes.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean murdering men who upset me.” Annie believed he did, but that was beside the point. He himself had hurt Annie and Jane.

Jane ticked off on her fingers. “There weren’t that many. Luckily, you don’t seem to trust men very much.”

Annie flushed in embarrassment.

“Mr. Potts touched you and made you cry. Then there was that gym teacher you told me about in eighth grade.”

“Jane! I didn’t have anything to do with a gym teacher, but he did disappear, and no one ever found him.”

Her sister nodded. “The lake. He was doing a lot of touching, if you know what I mean. Bad men like him need to be dealt with. It was only a matter of time before he got around to you.”

“And did you try to run Flynn off the road?”

“Yes, he looked too interested in you. I failed, but I intended to try again.”

“Jane, you explain all of this like you’re sharing your latest recipe.” Annie’s voice hardly reached above a whisper. All the energy drained from her body. Disillusion clouded her mind. Yet, she couldn’t stop questioning her sister for the whole truth. “Paul?”

“I thought he was having an affair with Evie. I caught them talking, and they both looked guilty when I walked up. This was just after Gary walked out, and I thought that was the reason—because he caught her cheating.”

Annie couldn’t feel relief about her sister choosing a victim that had nothing to do with her. “You’re so small, but you strangled him. Paul was pretty strong.”

“But I’m clever, Annie.” Jane smiled, and it sent a shiver down Annie’s back. “I hid in his truck and waited. Do you know that fanny pack I wear when I jog?”

Annie nodded.

“When he sat behind the wheel, I wrapped it around his neck from behind and just let myself go limp. My weight dragged the belt down against his windpipe and—”

“Stop! I can’t hear anymore.” Annie covered her ears. “Jane, Jane, why? You were the one of us who was okay, who overcame all that stuff that Daddy did to us. I couldn’t let anyone touch me. I have OCD. I’ve got a stupid fear of chicken for no reason at all. But you…oh, Jane. I can’t deal with this.”

“I know, Annie.”

Jane grasped her hand and pulled it away from her ear. The swing slowed down, and Jane pushed off to get them moving again. Annie watched her sister’s face. The furl of Jane’s brow, never absent, was flat as if all her worries drained away. She appeared more content than Annie had ever seen her.

“You don’t have to handle anything, Annie. I will take care of it. I failed you a couple times, but I won’t anymore. I promise.”

Annie thought hard. “A couple times? I know you mean Flynn, but who else?”

“That man. You remember. The one you told me you couldn’t remember his name and you called him Killer. I thought that was funny.”

Annie went cold. “Omen.”

“That’s him. Bad Omen.”

“He doesn’t like me.”

“I promised you I would take care of him at my barbeque. Rest assured, I will, Annie. He only got food poisoning because I messed up the batch, but I’ll get it right.”

Annie pulled her hand from Jane’s and set her sister’s hands on her lap. “Jane, you have a problem. I want you to get help because I love you.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“What happens when you think Donovan is getting too close to me, and how do you think that would affect your kids, Jane, if you hurt him?”

Jane sat quiet with her head down, seeming to work it out.

“I’m going to call someone now, sis. It’s for the best. You’ll get the help you need.”

“No, Annie, I can’t protect you if they take me.”

“I know, but I’ll be okay.”

A car door slammed, and Annie looked around to see Donovan heading up the drive. Her heart raced. When Annie realized what Jane had done, she didn’t call Donovan but rushed over to Jane’s house. A quick call to Stacy to take Ben, and Annie had found Quinn and Paisley were with friends already.

“What’s going on?” Donovan asked. “You two look like you’ve been crying. Is this a woman thing?”

Jane hadn’t been crying at all. Annie’s face probably looked blotchy and swollen. She didn’t care. As Donovan waited for an answer, she considered how to tell him in a few minutes she would call the police to come get her precious sister.

“Go in the house, Donovan,” Jane said.

He and Annie both gasped. Donovan frowned. “Jane, I would appreciate it if you showed me a little bit more respect in front—”

“Go in the house
now
.”

Annie swallowed. She tried to convey to Donovan it was a good idea if he just let it go. His fingers tightened on the handle of his briefcase, and he swung his gaze from Jane to Annie and back again.

“We’re going to talk about this later,” he snapped. “I’m sick of it, and I’m not going to take your attitude any more. Got that?”

Jane slowly raised her gaze from the porch floor to him, and Donovan flinched. His eyes widened, and he took a step back. Annie reached into her purse and removed her cell phone. She dialed 9-1-1. There was no reason to delay any longer.

A
nnie’s phone
rang for the hundredth time. She let it go to voice mail. Someone knocked on the front door. She ignored that, too. In her office, she sat before her computer but the screen had gone to sleep. She never turned on the light, so when the sun went down, it cast the entire room into darkness.

Somewhere nearby, Shadow moved, and his claw scraped the heart pine floor. He whined a little. Annie paid him no mind. The police had taken Jane away despite Donovan’s protests. He had accused Annie of manipulating Jane, but she saw it in his eyes. He believed the charges against her, probably knew it all along.

Annie’s phone rang again. She glanced at the display. Flynn’s name flashed on the screen. A part of her wanted to answer, but she couldn’t face him either. How could she say sorry for her only family killing his only family? She couldn’t face his blame.

The kids had cried, even Paisley, but Donovan said he would handle it, and his mother, who had learned to be a bit more responsible in her old age, was coming down from Raleigh to be with them. Annie hadn’t left the house for days. She allowed Shadow to go out on his own, and for a brief period she had visited Evie’s house to procure dog food and the diary.

Her phone dinged again, and Annie noticed the voicemail symbol. She heaved a sigh and picked up the phone.

“Annie…I’m so sorry,” Flynn said.

She couldn’t believe he apologized for what Jane did to him. Annie waited for more, but he coughed, and she had the sense that emotions got the better of him. Flynn wouldn’t be human if what Jane did and her reasons didn’t anger him.

Sniffling, Annie put the phone down and stood to turn on the light. Shadow raised his head to peer at her. She took her seat and opened a drawer. The diary sat atop a pile of notebooks she used for handwriting notes. She removed it and set it in front of her after pushing her keyboard aside.

Evie had placed a bookmark, which advertised the consignment shop on Twenty-second Street and Dover, between the pages where she found the reference to a treasure. Annie paged back a bit and read through until she reached the interesting passage.

Annie dragged herself out of her chair and into the hall. She crouched at the base of the attic stairs and searched all over the area. There was no evidence of a symbol.

She walked down the stairs to the first floor, pausing at each step just in case to examine the creaking wood. Nothing. At the foot of the stairs, she searched again.

Whatever her great grandmother referred to, it wasn’t the steps in this house, but Annie knew the house had been in her family for many years. Of course, someone might have found the treasure—if it existed at all—and gotten rid of the mark. However, if they did, why not destroy the diary as well?

She thought of the tragedies that happened in her family. All she knew were her own and her sister’s with her parents, nothing from earlier than that.

Annie returned to her office, clutching the diary. She read the passage a second and third time. Perhaps solving this case would keep her distracted enough from the present, until the pain and loss eased. Even if the diary turned out to be a fake, learning more about its writer would be better than sitting in her office thinking about Jane.

With the decision made, Annie rose and walked to her room to shower. She dressed for bed, but then strolled through her home with Shadow at her side. Inspecting every inch of the house from the windows to the doors and even the attic made Annie feel a little more secure.

Now she knew from Jane that it had been her sister who chased her home. Jane did it to protect her, she said. Annie was certain Jane would never hurt her. That’s how Jane got the bruises. Annie had kicked her arm when she grabbed Annie’s ankle.

Jane, you went through so much for me.

Annie returned to her room and climbed into bed. Shadow curled up on the area carpet on the floor. She made a mental note to buy him a new bed because even with gloves on she couldn’t make herself touch the one at Evie’s house.

“Well, I’m the only one left,” Annie said into the dark room. “But you know what? I’m not going down without a fight. Not me. Happy Annie Holloway will keep it together.”

She rolled over and grabbed her cell phone. Tomorrow she would call her psychiatrist and make another appointment. For now, she dialed Flynn. Too late, she realized the time—ten minutes to midnight.

Flynn answered right away. “Annie.”

“I want to slide down your pole, Flynn.”

He choked. “Huh?”

She grinned. The smile felt good even as her heart still ached. This was who she was no matter what. Maybe it was a type of protective mechanism on her part.

Happy.

“Tell your boss Annie Holloway is coming. I want to see what it’s like to work as a firefighter, and I’m going to slide down that pole when I get there.”

He chuckled. “I’ll be sure to tell him. Was there anything else?”

“Yes, a uniform. I want to try one on, but it has to be new, Flynn. It has to be big because I’m pretty curvy. Oh, and a hat. I have to have a hat.”

“Of course.”

“Do you have a Dalmatian?”

“Afraid not.”

“That’s okay. Probably stereotypical anyway.” She bit her lip. “Flynn?”

“Yes, Annie?”

“I’m sorry about Jane. Please try to forgive her. She’s not well. I…”

“Shh. We can talk about it another time. I know it’s still raw for me, and I’m sure it’s worse for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you really going to play firefighter, Annie?”

“Research, Flynn. It’s all about the research.”