The Cracked Pot (22 page)

"So you have been checking up on me," she said, the ac cusation thick in her voice.

"Are you telling me it's not true?"

"I took Edith Sampson there, but I couldn't wait the en tire time for her. I had other things to do, so Kendra picked me up at the hospital, then dropped me off later so I could give Edith a ride home."

"Okay, that explains that, but then where exactly were you both the night of the murder?"

"In Burlington," Kendra said in triumph. "We were meeting with the new owners of our buildings."

"Wait a second, whoever bought your places owns mine, too. Why wasn't I told about this meeting?"

"I'm sure you got the same notice in the mail that we did, but since you were so busy with your investigation, you probably forgot all about it. Don't worry, we told the new management team all about you."

"I'll just bet you did," I said. If Kendra Williams was my character witness, I was already sunk. "What did they say?"

"Rents won't go up, at least not until the current agree ments expire," Rose said. "We made sure of that. If you don't believe us, you can call them yourself."

"Do you have their number?" I asked.

"Are you seriously going to check our alibis?" Rose asked.

"I might, but I want to talk to these people myself. After all, they're going to be my landlords, too."

Kendra turned to Rose and said, "We might as well give her the number. She's going to find out sooner or later."

"Oh, go on, then."

Kendra nodded, then said, "I've got one of their cards. I'll be right back."

While she was inside, I turned to Rose and said, "You know, you could have saved me a lot of grief if you'd told me about this before."

"Why on earth were you under the impression it was my job to make your life easier?"

"You sound just like my uncle," I said. Taking a stab in the dark, I asked, "Are you two back together?"

"I told you before, we were never a couple in the first place." She hurried back to her shop, and when Kendra emerged a minute later, she looked around, then asked, "What did you do to Rose?"

"Nothing. She got tired of waiting and left," I said. "Is that for me?"

She nodded and handed me a business card. "Here, you can call them if you'd like."

"Kendra, I'm going to ask you the same thing I asked Rose. Why did you hint that you were on some mysterious tryst when I asked you about an alibi before? You made it sound as though you were with a man, not Rose."

"I don't approve of your snooping, and you know it. Be sides, I thought if I spread a little rumor that I was seeing someone mysterious, it might make folks talk. I knew you'd never be able to keep it to yourself."

"As a matter of fact, I haven't told a soul," I said, then I walked toward my car.

Once inside my Intrigue, I pulled out my cell phone and called the management group. The secretary confirmed Rose and Kendra's alibi easily enough, and echoed the news that rents would stay the same as long as the current leases were in effect. That was something, anyway. I could strike two names off my list, and I felt positively giddy do ing so. That just left Mayor Jenkins, my uncle, and Annie Gregg. At least the field was finally narrowing.

I'd just walked in the door at home when I heard the tele phone ring. "Hello?"

"You sound positively out of breath," Sandy said. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"No, I just got in. What's up?"

"I've been doing more digging into the ClayDate Corpo ration, and I found something I thought you'd like to know."

As I looked through the mail, which Bill had deposited on the counter, I said, "That's old news, Sandy."

"That's exactly what it's not," she said smugly.

"What do you mean?"

"ClayDate has been paying its business license fees

every year, including this one. Does that sound like a de funct company to you?"

"No, it doesn't," I admitted. "Why would the mayor lie to me about it?"

"He's a politician, isn't he? It must be second nature for him. Doesn't that mean he and Richard were doing business more recently than he admitted?"

"It has to. Thanks, Sandy. I'm going to ask him about this the first chance I get."

"You're welcome," she said. "I'll keep rooting around."

"Do that," I said as I hung up. The mail was mostly bills and the rest was junk. Didn't anybody write real letters any more? I used to love getting mail. Of course, I hadn't writ ten any letters myself for ages. I'd have to do that sometime soon if I expected to get any in return.

I walked back to Bill's workshop and noticed that the gopher had dug even more holes. I promised myself I'd look up gopher eradicators in the phone book after we ate dinner.

Bill wasn't in his shop. Where could he be? His truck was parked out front, and I hadn't seen any sign of him in the house. I hurried back inside, worried that something might have happened to him.

"Bill? Are you here?" No answer. I could feel the knot in my gut growing as I searched the house. Our bedroom was empty, and that just left the boys' old bedroom we'd con verted into a guest room years before. If he wasn't in there, I'd call the sheriff.

At first I didn't see him, but as I flipped on the light, I breathed a sigh of relief. "Bill, what are you doing in here?"

"Didn't want to get in your way," he mumbled. "My hand was hurting, so I took a pill and went to bed. Turn off that light, will you?"

I did as he asked, then sat down on the edge of the bed. "Can I get you anything?"

"Just sleep," he said as he jammed a pillow over his head. I took the hint and left him alone.

There wasn't a thing in the world I could do for him, and I hated the feeling of helplessness. Since our two sons had moved away, Bill and I relied on each other for so much. Having him out of action left me feeling odd and uneasy.

Since it appeared that I would be dining alone tonight, I looked through the cabinets for something to eat. I couldn't face eggs again, and I hadn't yet shopped, so peanut butter and jelly would have to do. Except a layer of something was growing on top of the jelly, so that was out, too. Peanut but ter sandwiches might be wonderful fare for a ten-year-old, but they didn't do much for me. I promised myself I'd go to the grocery store tomorrow. After eating my unfulfilling sandwich, I decided to pop some popcorn as a supplement. I wasn't in the mood for regular television, so I put
Casa
blanca
in the DVD player and settled in for a night with Bogart, Bergman, and friends.

Darkness dropped like a coin outside, and I shut off the lights in the den so I could enjoy the movie. But something started flickering on the television, and for a minute, I thought the set was going out. Then movement outside caught my eye, and I paused the movie so I could get a bet ter look. Someone was in our backyard with a flashlight! I peered out through the glass, but I couldn't see anything but a bobbing beam of light. Creeping into the guest room, I whispered, "Bill? Are you awake?"

No response but a snore.

"Bill?" This time my voice was louder, but it had no ef fect on his drug-induced slumber.

I could call the police. I should call the police. But first I wanted to see if I could catch a glimpse of who was out there.

Standing by the back door, I flipped on the back porch light, ready to catch whoever was out there, but the light didn't go on. The bulb must have burned out. It was going to be up to Sheriff Hodges to catch the interloper.

I got through to him on the telephone without too much trouble. "This is Carolyn Emerson. Somebody's creeping around outside my house with a flashlight."

"Have they tried to get in?"

"No. Right now, it looks like they're just standing there holding a flashlight."

"Can you see who it is?"

I peered into the darkness again, but I couldn't make out who the trespasser was. "I can't tell. Should I go outside for a better look?"

"No! Lock the doors and I'll be there in two minutes."

At least I'd managed to shake some of the rust off the sheriff. I didn't have any weapons in the house, but I did have a mop handle I could swing like a bat. I grabbed it and watched outside, waiting for something to happen. I had just about given up any hope of the sheriff coming when I saw another light and heard him shout, "Freeze."

The flashlight dropped and I heard running. My first thought was to go outside, but I decided it would be better to wait for the sheriff to come get me.

After the longest ten minutes of my life, I heard a tap on the back door, and I was so startled, I dropped the mop han dle.

I could make out a man's shape, but I couldn't see his face. "Carolyn, let me in."

There was no mistaking the sheriff's voice. After I un locked the door, he asked, "Where's Bill?"

"He's sleeping."

Hodges stared at me a few seconds, then asked, "You didn't think this was important enough to wake him?"

"He's on medication for his hand," I said. "Who was it?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I lost him in the woods. I found this, though. Any chance it's yours?"

He reached back and collected a brand new shovel with dirt on its blade. "Are you kidding? I haven't bought a new yard tool in ten years. Where did you find it?"

"It was in the yard. It looks like your friend was digging holes. Any idea why?"

"I thought we had gophers," I said.

"Maybe the two-legged variety," he replied. "Why didn't you turn the back porch light on when I came up to the house? I could have been anybody."

"It must be burned out," I said. "Besides, I waited until I heard your voice before I let you in. What should I do now?"

"I'd get a new bulb if I were you."

"I'm not talking about the light. I mean the intruder."

"I doubt he's coming back tonight, but just in case, I'll have someone come by every hour or so to check on the place. If you don't mind, I'll keep this shovel."

"Be my guest," I said. Despite the problems I had with the sheriff, he had been prompt about coming out when I'd needed him. "Thanks for getting here so fast."

"It's part of my job," he said. "Don't forget to replace that bulb in the morning."

"I promise," I said.

Not even
Casablanca
could hold my attention after that. I popped the movie out of the DVD player, brushed my teeth, and decided to go to bed. The guest room was a single mattress, and there was no way Bill and I both would fit on it, at least not now that we were nearing our thirty-year an niversary. Not that I didn't love my husband—I probably loved him more after all our years together than I did the day I married him—but I wasn't willing to fight him all night for the covers on a bed two sizes too small.

Our bed seemed vast and empty without him, and I thought I'd never fall asleep, but the exhaustion from the day finally kicked in. I found myself drifting off as I won dered why on earth anyone would dig holes in our yard, at night to boot.

"I can't believe you slept through all of the excitement last night," I told my husband as he came into the kitchen for breakfast the next morning. I'd been up for hours and was dallying so I could see him before I had to leave to open the shop. Since Hannah and I were at odds, it meant we weren't meeting for coffee in the morning, and that left me with more free time than I liked.

"Why, what happened?" He was not nearly as fresh as he had been the day before. "Those pills really knocked me out."

"We had an intruder."

He sat up in his chair. "What?"

"Well, not in the house. Somebody was digging holes in the backyard last night with a flashlight."

"You can't dig much of a hole with one of those things," he said.

"He was using the flashlight to see, you nit," I said. "He had a shovel for digging. The sheriff took it with him."

"Hodges came out here? Why didn't you wake me?"

"I tried," I said, "but you were too far gone."

He walked over to the sink, took the bottle of pain pills, and tossed them in the trash.

"Why did you do that?"

"You needed me last night, and I was too doped up to help you. I don't need that kind of comfort."

I'd threatened to do the exact same thing myself, but now I had a change of heart. "Bill, don't be so rash. Everything was fine."

"But it might not have been," he said. "Why didn't you turn the porch light on and scare whoever it was away?"

"That's another thing. You need to put a new bulb in the back porch light. That one's blow out."

"I changed it last week," he said.

"You don't have to do it right now," I said. "Eat your breakfast first."

"Just a second." He opened the back door and stepped outside. Twenty seconds later, he was back. "Flip the light on."

I did as he asked. "It's working perfect now," he said.

"Well, it wasn't last night."

He frowned. "The bulb was loose. I could have sworn I tightened it up all the way when I put it in."

I thought about that as I took a sip of coffee. "Maybe somebody unscrewed it."

"Now you're just being paranoid."

I pointed outside. "You said we had gophers, too."

He shrugged. "You made your point. I'll poke around a little after I eat."

"I'll go with you," I said.

"Don't you have a shop to run?"

I glanced at the clock. "I've got plenty of time. What would you like for breakfast?"

"I'm just going to have some orange juice."

As he poured a glass, I said, "You need to eat more than that."

"I'm not hungry. Those blasted pills kill my appetite. That's enough reason to throw them away."

As he got dressed, I wondered again why anyone would invade our backyard. With the broad daylight to reassure me, I decided to go out and look around myself. Sure enough, I could see a clump of grass the digger had failed to replant. The hole was nearly six inches deep and twelve inches across. What could he have been looking for?

"What are you doing out here by yourself?" Bill said gruffly behind me.

"It's perfectly safe at the moment," I said. "What do you make of this?"