Protector (47 page)
Authors: Laurel Dewey
Tags: #Police Procedural, #Denver (Colo.), #Mystery & Detective, #Psychic ability, #Women detectives, #Crime, #Suspense, #Women Sleuths, #Children of murder victims, #Fiction, #Occult & Supernatural, #Espionage
Kathy and Kent’s house was located atop Strong’s Mesa, a fertile plateau that stretched several miles north and west. The landscape was dotted with two-level, wood and stone houses, occupied by well-heeled retirees and the newly rich. Kent and Kathy fit into that mold via Kent’s real estate sales and Kathy’s modest income managing rental properties and the occasional home sale. Their house was situated on ten acres of rolling green pasture. A bank of floor to ceiling picture windows on one side of the house faced the setting sun, reflecting an almost uncomfortable crimson blaze. The circular drive was packed with SUVs and assorted Subaru wagons. Jane wedged her wagon behind a Toyota 4-Runner with bumper stickers that extolled the driver’s love of craft shows. “I Luv Being Crafty” elicited a groan from Jane and a roll of the eyes.
Jane and Emily walked across the gravel driveway and up to the large, Mission-style front door. It was several inches ajar—a common practice for small-town folks and an unspoken signal to come in. The humming din of women’s voices could be heard, along with the eruption of an occasional grating cackle. Jane let out a tired sigh and entered the house with Emily close by her side.
The tri-level house was duly impressive. Vaulted ceilings led the eye upward to various odd shapes of windows that framed the second story. The home was furnished in a combination of Santa Fe Chic and classic old Mexican style. Burnt orange hues blended with soft terra cotta tones that effortlessly flowed into deep burgundy and chestnut accents. It was a showplace and an obvious source of pride for Kathy. Jane and Emily stood outside a clique of two dozen women who milled around a long wooden dinner table, munching on nachos and salsa.
“Does anybody know how many points a nacho is on the Weight Watchers’ menu?” a woman yelled out.
Kathy poked her head through the gaggle of giggling females and caught sight of Jane. She excitedly waved her arm and motioned Jane forward. “Hi! Come on in, girls!” Kathy maneuvered her way around the band of women to meet Jane and Emily. “I am so glad you came!” Turning to the cluster of droning voices, Kathy announced Jane and Emily’s appearance. “Girls! Girls! I want you all to meet Anne and Patty Calver! They’re the two new folks in town who I’ve been telling you all about!” Jane wondered just exactly what she had been telling these women when they turned in unison to Jane with a look of judgment across their faces. Emily’s attention was drawn outside through the open French doors to the backyard where Heather and a few other young girls were practicing line dancing steps in front of the family’s outdoor trampoline. “Would you like to go out and say hi to Heather?” Kathy asked Emily with a big, toothy grin.
Emily looked up at Jane. “Is that okay with you, Mom?”
“Oh, there she goes again!” Kathy quickly interjected. “Little Miss Manners!”
Jane’s jaw clenched. “Yeah, sure. It’s okay.”
Emily scooted across the wooden floor and into the backyard.
“Her stitches are out,” Kathy said, eyes fixed on Emily.
“Yes,” Jane said tersely.
Kathy turned to Jane. “That’s odd. Dr. Armstrong didn’t mention your visit.”
“Kathy!” came a voice from around the table. “We’re gonna need more mason jars for the cherries!”
Kathy turned to the woman. “I’ve got plenty stashed away in Kent’s workshop! I’ll get ’em for ya!” Kathy took Jane by the arm. “But first, I want to introduce you to the gals!” She escorted Jane to the table and proceeded to point and name each and every woman around the table. In between nodding like a robot, Jane stole a glance toward the backyard where Emily was engaged in her own conversation.
“We’re practicing our steps!” Heather announced to Emily with a snotty tone.
“Who’s she?” one of the girls asked Heather.
“I’m Em—,” Emily caught herself. “Patty.”
“Don’t you even know your own name?” Heather said with a smirk.
Emily let Heather’s comment roll off her back. “So, what are you practicing for?”
The girls looked surprised by Emily’s question.
“What do you think?” Heather asked. “The dance? At the Peach Pit Days Carnival? I mean, duh!”
“Is that a big deal?”
“A big deal?” Heather said with a dramatic gesture. “Oh my god! Where are you from? Yes, it’s a big hairy deal!”
“Is there a contest?” Emily asked.
“What do you think, Einstein?” Heather repeated in a mocking tone, taking her place at the head of the line. “Come on,” she said to the other girls, “let’s do it again.”
“Can I practice with you?” Emily blurted out.
Heather took a step toward Emily. “Do you know how to line dance?”
“No. But I’m a real fast learner.”
Heather spun around and stood back at the head of the line. “Sorry! Only advanced girls are allowed in my group. Besides, you don’t have any cowboy boots. Everybody knows you have to have cowboy boots to be a good line dancer!”
“Oh . . .” Emily said, dejected.
The girls continued to practice their steps. Emily turned and walked toward the house, peering through the panes of glass in search of Jane. A hand draped across Emily’s shoulder, causing her to jump slightly.
“I didn’t mean to startle you!” Kathy said. “You meet Heather’s little friends?”
“Yes,” Emily replied. “They’re practicing for the dance contest.”
“Well, that’s what it takes to win! Go join them!”
“That’s okay. I’ve never line danced before and I don’t have cowboy boots.”
Kathy turned her lips into an exaggerated frown. “Oh, you poor little thing!” Kathy quickly perked up. “Hey! I could sure use your help bringing in some canning jars! What do ya say?”
“Sure!”
Emily trailed Kathy around the corner of the house, away from the gathering women, and followed her into an airy, windowed greenhouse that had been masterfully refurbished into a weatherproof workshop.
“Okay, now,” Kathy said, plucking her front teeth with her first finger, “where did I put those jars?”
Emily looked over at a small wooden table. A detailed, three dimensional landscape model filled the table, complete with miniature trees, shrubs, cars and houses. Amazed by the detail, Emily leaned closer to the landscape to get a better look. “Did you make this?”
Kathy let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, heavens no! That’s one of Kent’s little projects.” Kathy crossed to the table and knelt down so she was on eye level with Emily. “They don’t call him the real estate wizard of Peachville for nothing. He says it’s important for clients to see things visually. This is a model for a luxury home site just over the ridge. He made all those little trees, cars and houses by hand. And he says I’m the crafty one!”
Emily was totally enthralled. “The trees look real. Like they have leaves and everything—” With that, Emily brushed her finger ever so gently over one of the trees and it toppled over. “I’m sorry!” Emily expressed, genuinely upset.
“We can fix that!” Kathy said, trying to prop up the tree.
“Here, let me do it.” Emily did her best to fix the blunder as she poured a drop of glue from a nearby bottle and affixed the tree back onto the board. “I’m real sorry. You can tell your husband I messed it up.”
Kathy closely watched Emily’s reaction. “I won’t tell him a thing,” she said, her voice suddenly void of all perkiness and the smile gone. “You can trust me, Patty. It’ll be our little secret.”
Emily looked at Kathy. “Thanks. That’s nice of you.” Emily softly tapped her finger on the tree. “There! Good as new!”
Kathy smiled at Emily, her blue eyes twinkling. “He’ll never know.”
Emily glanced over to Kathy and returned the smile. “You’ve got the prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.”
“Well, my goodness!” Kathy said, taken aback, “Aren’t you sweet!”
“I mean it. I’ve never seen anybody with eyes that blue except in Disney movies.”
“Well, you have made my day!” Kathy said sincerely. Emily pulled her hair behind her ear. Kathy was silent for a few seconds before carefully changing the subject. “How does your head feel?”
“Fine. Mom says it’s healing really good.”
“Did it hurt when Dr. Armstrong took out those stitches?”
“Oh, ah,” Emily hesitated, caught off guard. “I didn’t need to go to see him.”
“What do you mean? You had to have your stitches out—”
“Yeah, well, we couldn’t go.”
“Couldn’t go?”
“I don’t mean ’couldn’t go.’” Emily was obviously flustered. “I mean, we couldn’t, um . . . we couldn’t afford it. Money’s been really tight since daddy died.”
“So, your mother took the stitches out?”
“Yeah. And the best part is she didn’t hurt me at all!” Kathy stiffened as her eyes filled with tears. Emily was confused by the woman’s reaction. “What’s wrong?”
Kathy reached up and gently stroked Emily’s cheek. “You’ve been through a lot of pain. I can see it in your eyes. You’re so young. You don’t deserve that kind of hurt.” Emily could feel herself slipping away from herself and didn’t want to lose it in front of Kathy like she did with Dan. She quickly turned away from Kathy. “It’s okay, darling,” Kathy said with great compassion.
“I’m sorry, I can’t—”
“There’s no need to apologize,” Kathy said, increasingly concerned.
“It’s just that, ah,” Emily felt herself falling into the void, “it’s . . . I . . .” The more she searched for the right words, the more she stuttered, sounding more suspicious.
“It’s okay.” Kathy leaned over and hugged Emily with all her might. Emily resisted before she fell against Kathy’s chest, draping one arm around her shoulder. “You’re so brave,” Kathy whispered to Emily, choking back tears. “You shouldn’t have to endure any of this.” Pulling back, she tenderly cupped her palms around Emily’s face. “Listen to me,” she said with great urgency, “you can tell me anything and it will stay between us forever!”
Emily felt her heart racing faster as her head spun. She desperately wanted to blurt out the truth. “I’m sorry . . . I—”
“I can help you!” Kathy whispered. “You have to trust me!”
“Patty!” Jane hollered from a distance.
Emily jumped slightly and turned to the sound of Jane’s voice. “I have to go!” Emily said, pulling away from Kathy.
Kathy grabbed the child’s hand. “Patty, I mean what I said. If you want to talk to me about anything, I’ll be there for you!”
“Thank you. You’re a nice lady.” Emily turned and walked out the door. As she rounded the corner, she ran smack into Jane.
“Christ almighty!” Jane exclaimed. “I’ve been calling your name for five fucking minutes! Where have you been?” Emily looked back at the open door of the workshop, knowing that Kathy must have heard Jane’s harangue. Not wanting to create more problems, Emily kept walking to gain distance from the workshop. Jane, not understanding Emily’s behavior, angrily followed her. “Hey! Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you!”
Emily turned to Jane with a “Be careful” look on her face. “Mom, don’t!”
At that moment, unbeknownst to Jane, Kathy quietly appeared outside the workshop door holding a small case of jars in her arms. Emily motioned with her eyes to get Jane to realize the intrusion. Jane caught the drift and turned around to face Kathy. There was a heavy hush between the two of them as Kathy scrutinized Jane with guarded scorn.
“I’ll take these jars into the house,” Kathy said, her throat choked with apprehension. “It’s time to pit those cherries.” She quietly closed the workshop door with her elbow and walked across the grass and into her house.
Jane turned to Emily. “What in the hell was that about?”
“I tried to tell you but you weren’t watching my eyes!” Emily said under her breath, slightly irritated.
“Where in the fuck were you all this time?”
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