Alice arrived at work Monday afternoon with a despondent frown, her shoulders slumped, and dark, sagging pouches beneath her eyes. Susan exchanged a concerned glance with Millie.
“Are you feeling okay?” Susan asked as the woman dropped her purse into a filing cabinet drawer.
Alice gave a distracted nod. “I didn’t sleep well last night, but I’m fine.”
Millie peered into her face. “Maybe you’re coming down with something. If you want to take the afternoon off, I’ll cover for you.”
“It’s quieter here.” A brief, rueful smile flashed onto her pale lips and disappeared as quickly. “All the kids are stuck in the house because of the rain.”
With the unseasonably cold December this year, rain could turn to sleet without warning. Definitely not amenable for active children like the Wainright boys.
“Well, if you’re sure.” Millie slipped on her coat and took her umbrella from the stand by the door. “Call me if you change your mind.”
When they were alone, Susan started to head back to Exam Room One, where a kitty with a digestive disorder waited, but then she hesitated. The difference in Alice from Saturday’s pleasure in her not-a-date plans with Ansel Crowder was marked. With their full afternoon schedule, this might be the only chance they’d have to talk in private.
“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong? Because you look unhappy about something.” She paused delicately: “How did your outing with Ansel turn out?”
Bingo. Tears filled Alice’s eyes. “It was wonderful. We had a great time.”
“Then why are you upset?”
The receptionist snatched two tissues from the box on the counter. “Because when we finished shopping, he took me to a steak restaurant and insisted on buying my dinner.”
No doubt about the meaning of that gesture. “So it really was a date.”
Alice nodded.
“Did you have a good time?”
Another nod, and she blew her nose.
“Help me understand something here.” Susan perched on the edge of the desk. “A nice man who is clearly attracted to you asks you out, helps you shop for your kids, and then buys your dinner. I don’t see the problem.”
No answer came at first. Alice wadded the tissues into a ball, tossed them into the trash can, and plucked another from the box. Her throat convulsed repeatedly. Susan waited, giving her time to regain her composure.
Finally, she drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “The problem is that I’m married.”
Surprised, Susan couldn’t come up with a response. Married? Though she had never asked, she’d assumed Alice was divorced. Or maybe widowed, because she had never heard any mention of the kids’ father coming for a visit.
Alice spread the tissue out on the desk and folded it into a neat square as she explained. “He’s an addict. He always drank, but then he hurt his back falling off a ladder, and they gave him pain pills. That was when Heath was a baby. When his prescription ran out and the doctor wouldn’t give him anymore, he went to another doctor, and another. Then he started buying them on the street. Things went downhill fast. Cocaine. Heroin. He couldn’t hold a job. I was working in a restaurant in Louisville, trying to pay the bills, but he always found the hiding place for my tip money and bought drugs.”
The words were flowing faster now. Alice obviously wanted to confide in someone.
Susan asked, “He wasn’t willing to go to rehab?”
A bitter laugh passed Alice’s lips. “Oh, sure. He went three times. Once on his own, and twice more because he was court-ordered. Willow was born while he was in rehab the second time. He’d get clean for a while, but it never lasted. The last straw came when I was pregnant with Tansy.” She kept her gaze fixed on her fingers, which folded the tissue over and over again. “I opened the trunk of the car and found a backpack with a bunch of stuff in it. Drain cleaner. Antihistamine tablets. Lithium batteries and something called liquid fire. And a big plastic bottle with white stuff in the bottom.”
That combination of ingredients could only be used for one thing. Susan recognized them from television news reports. “He was making methamphetamine.”
Alice nodded. “In the same car we used to drive the kids around. We fought, and I ended up with a broken jaw.”
Knots pulled tight in Susan’s stomach, and with an effort she unclenched her fists. “So you turned him in?”
To Susan’s surprise, Alice shook her head. “I wanted to. I should have. But I couldn’t do it. Instead I gave him an ultimatum—either give up the drugs for good or leave. He left. We haven’t heard from him since.” The tears returned, and she shook out the folded square of tissue to wipe her eyes. “The whole time I was carrying Tansy, I was terrified she’d have something wrong with her because he was using when I got pregnant. Thank the Lord she was perfect.”
Susan had attended Tansy’s fourth birthday party a few months ago. That meant Alice’s husband had been gone for close to five years. “Have you ever tried to contact him?”
“I’ve thought about it a lot, but I wouldn’t know where to start. And when Fern got into trouble, I knew I couldn’t subject the kids to an addicted father who obviously didn’t care enough to contact them.”
Alice’s oldest daughter had worked for Cardwell Drug Store and was caught stealing antihistamines and other meth-making materials. When Susan moved to Goose Creek, Fern was confined in a juvenile detention center. How awful that must have been for Alice, to see her oldest daughter following in the steps of her addict father. Thank goodness Fern was doing well now.
Through the window Susan glimpsed a car pulling into the small parking lot. They were about to be interrupted.
“Listen, if you do want to find him, maybe I can help. One of Justin’s motorcycle buddies is a state police detective. He’ll be discreet. And if he finds out your husband is still in bad shape or even in jail, at least you’ll know.”
A fearful expression overtook her features, but then she bit down on her lower lip and gave a slow nod. “Maybe it’s time.”
Outside, an umbrella popped open above the driver’s side door, and a woman emerged holding a pet carrier. Susan examined Alice’s blotchy face, which showed evidence of crying and would definitely become fodder for the gossip chain.
“You go freshen up. I’ll check Mrs. Barnes in.” Susan tapped on a notepad. “Before you leave this evening, write down any information you can about your husband, and I’ll give it to Justin’s friend.”
With a grateful nod, Alice retrieved her purse and headed for the bathroom.
Millie’s cell phone interrupted her work on the veterinary clinic’s Wednesday bank deposit. She glanced at the screen and heaved a sigh. Calls from Lulu never ended quickly.
“Hello, Lulu.”
“The peacock’s gone!”
Millie jerked the phone away from her ear, and the shriek through the speaker was clearly heard by those seated in the Kuddly Kitty waiting room. Curious stares fixed on her. She swiveled the reception chair around to face the back wall.
“Another light sculpture is missing?” This was the third in as many days. One a night since Sunday.
“Stolen. And that was my favorite too.” Outrage gave Lulu’s voice a high-pitched whine that shot through the phone and grated across Millie’s nerves. “We’re the victims of burglary. Frankie thinks we should report it to the police.”
“I can’t imagine who would take those”—Millie bit off the words hideous things in the nick of time—“decorations. Especially since you offered to give them away.”
“Whoever took them are not putting them up. Frankie and I drove all over Goose Creek and Morleyville after supper last night. No sign of the snowman or the fountain.”
“And you didn’t see anything during the night?” After Monday’s theft, the Thackers had planned an all-night vigil to watch for the thief’s return.
“We fell asleep. Woke up around two and took inventory. Nothing missing, so we figured the crook had stolen what he wanted and we went to bed. Got up this morning to find my peacock missing.”
Aware of the attentive silence in the waiting room behind her, Millie lowered her voice. “Maybe you should call the police. Those things aren’t cheap, after all, even if you did get a bargain.”
“I’m afraid to, and that’s the plain truth.” Lulu’s tone lost some of its edge. “Frankie thinks somebody’s stealing them because they want them, but I’m not so sure.”
“What other reason would the thief have?”
“C’mon, girl. You know as well as I do that some folks aren’t as fond of them as you and me.”
Pinpricks of shame stabbed at her. She hadn’t actually claimed to like the decorations, but to spare Lulu’s feelings she had uttered a few words of admiration for one or two of them. Things like, “If you narrow your eyelids, that fountain looks like it really could be spraying water,” and “Isn’t it amazing how the lights are perfectly synchronized to make it look like the candle flame is actually flickering?”
For the benefit of her audience, Millie made a pretense of opening a drawer and flipping through the files inside. She lowered her voice even more. “Why would someone steal something they don’t like?”
“So they don’t have to see it anymore. It might be someone on Mulberry Avenue.” Her voice took on an ominous tone. “Maybe even right next door.”
Millie immediately leaped to her friend’s defense. “That’s ridiculous. Violet would never do anything so spiteful.”
Privately, though, she wondered. Violet certainly did detest the ostentatious display, and had complained about it at some length the last time they talked.
“What about Frieda? She’s had a burr under her saddle ever since we put them up.”
“Only because she didn’t want them downtown. I’m sure she doesn’t care what you do with your own yard.”
“That’s another thing. I’m working on another idea about Main Street, one she can’t argue with. But anyway, I’d hate to set the cops on somebody we know. That’d make things awkward around here.”
Even the accusation would alienate the Thackers from their neighbors. They didn’t have many friends to begin with.
“That’s a good point. Maybe you should try to stay up again tonight and see if you can catch whoever-it-is in the act.”
“That’s what I think too.” Lulu sounded relieved. “I’ll tell Honey Bun that’s the plan.”
When they disconnected the call, Millie immediately dialed another number.
“H’lo?”
Millie straightened, alert to Violet’s tone. Definitely not her usual cheerful answer. “Are you sick?”
“’Course not. You caught me napping.” The sentence ended with a yawn.
Suspicion stabbed at Millie. “In the middle of the morning?”
“I’m so tired today I’m not worth a plugged nickel. As lazy as a fat cat on a hot summer day.” Another yawn. “So what’s up?”
“Another of Lulu’s light sculptures is missing.”
The news perked Violet right up. “Really? Was it the frog?” A note of hope rang in the question.
The ladies in the waiting room had gone utterly still, and a glance confirmed that Millie commanded their full attention. She rose and stepped through the swinging doors into the clinic area.
“No, the peacock.” Was there a delicate way to phrase the question that must be asked? “You wouldn’t know anything about these nightly thefts, would you?”
“Only that I wish the culprit would take the really ugly ones instead of the smallest.” A sucked-in breath sounded through the phone. “Wait a minute. Are you accusing me?”
The offense in her tone could not be faked. Millie rushed to cover her tracks. “Of course not.” Think quick, Millie. “Since you live next door, I thought you might have heard something in the night.” Inspiration struck. “Maybe that’s what interrupted your sleep.”
“Oh.”
The explanation appeared to have placated Violet, and Millie sank against the lab counter. They’d been friends for decades, and though Violet did not take offense easily, she could be prickly where the Thackers were concerned.
“Truth be told, I couldn’t sleep on account of eating chili for supper. I musta put in too much cayenne, ’cause it was hotter than Peter Piper’s peppers. I hate to throw out the leftovers, but I can’t handle another night like that.”
“Add sour cream,” Millie advised. “That’ll cut the heat and make it tasty besides.”
“Good idea. Anyway, I didn’t hear a peep from next door. But if I had, I wouldn’t tell them. Why look a gift horse in the mouth? If I’m lucky, the thief will keep coming back.”
Her fears about Violet allayed, Millie ended the conversation and returned to her desk. Of course, Violet wasn’t the only resident of Mulberry Avenue who disliked the ostentatious display. What if the culprit was another neighbor?
Maybe one more phone call was in order. Though she tried not to bother Albert at work unnecessarily, maybe he could talk to Franklin and make him see the sense in leaving the police out of the picture. For now anyway.
“Goooooood morning. Franklin Thacker here.”
Speaking of Franklin. “Hello. This is Millie.”
“Oh! Uh… hey, Millsie. How’s it shaking down your way?”
Millie winced. Franklin loved to come up with nicknames for those he liked. A form of affection, no doubt, but Millie disliked being called Millsie nearly as much as Albert hated Bert.
“Since you’re answering Albert’s phone, I assume he’s away from his desk.”
“You could say that. Yeah. He’s definitely not in his cubicle.”
Something sounded odd about Franklin’s voice. “Do you know where he is?”
“Nnnnnnnooooo, can’t say I do.”
Odd. One of the things Albert complained about was the way Franklin kept tabs on his whereabouts, even timing his visits to the men’s room.
“When he comes back would you ask him to call me?”
“Uh, yes. I can give him a message.”
Franklin didn’t sound like his usual jovial self. Millie couldn’t put her finger on it. Not distracted, exactly. More like… cautious.
Maybe he’d been in the middle of a project. Albert disliked being interrupted when he was working on a program, and sometimes his replies were gruff enough to hurt her feelings.
“Thank you. I’m sorry to interrupt you at work.”
“No problemo, Millsie. Have a good day.”
She replaced the receiver and stared at it for a long moment. A strange man. He and Lulu were perfectly matched.
A comment from her conversation with Lulu returned, one she’d let pass at the time. What new idea about decorating Main Street did the woman have? Dread gathered in the pit of Millie’s stomach. Surely she wouldn’t attempt anything else with Christmas only two and a half weeks away. Maybe she was referring to an idea for next year’s decorations. Yes, that must be it.
Putting the Thackers out of her mind, Millie swiveled around and returned to work.
Al’s cell phone rang, drawing a disapproving stare from the nearest librarian. He snatched it up and flipped it open.
“Richardson here.”
“Man, I just about blew your cover!”
Thacker.
Al pressed the phone closer to his ear. “What do you mean?”
“Millsie called. She wanted to know where you were.”
Alarm bells clanged in Al’s mind. “What did you tell her?”
“The truth. That I didn’t know where you were, but I’d give you a message. I had sweat dripping down my back.”
Al wilted in his chair. “Thanks, Franklin.”
“Listen, buddy, I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. I gave up lying years ago on account of I’m no good at it. Sooner or later Lulu’s going to figure out I’m keeping a secret and ask me outright what it is. The only reason she hasn’t so far is because she’s obsessed with this decoration thing.”
“It won’t be much longer. I’m close to a plan.” Al glanced at the laptop screen, which showed he’d reached level six on Candy Crush.
“Good.” Curiosity colored Thacker’s voice. “What do you do all day, anyway?”
“I’m looking for a job and…” The colorful game board winked on his screen. “… developing new skills.”
“I can’t figure you out, Bert. If somebody gave me a chunk of change to retire early, I’d do backflips all the way home.”
“You’ll feel differently if it happens to you.” He clicked on the reshuffle button and watched the game board reconfigure itself. “I’d better call Millie. Thanks again.”
He took a moment to settle his nerves before dialing his wife’s number. He didn’t like deceiving Millie any more than Thacker. Was it time to admit defeat and come clean? It had been two and a half weeks since he lost his job, and he was no closer to landing another one than that fateful day. Even the Arkansas corporation had rejected him.
But he had a few more applications about which he hadn’t heard. One was to a recruiting firm that boasted they found employment for 95 percent of their clients. Those places had connections and knew about jobs that the public didn’t.
Today was Wednesday. Millie’s Christmas party was only three days away, on Saturday evening. Only a heel would deliver a blow like this right before an event that his wife had been frantically planning for weeks. She didn’t need anything else to distract her, nothing to stress her out. Besides, maybe he’d hear something within the next few days.
He’d give it until this weekend, and if nothing had turned up by Sunday, he’d sit Millie down and break the news.
For now, he needed to come up with a plausible reason for calling her from his cell instead of the office phone. Not a lie. Like Thacker, Al couldn’t lie to his wife. Not only would she spot it in an instant, the guilt would eat him alive. So he’d tell the truth. That he was at the library doing research. That would be unusual enough she might question him about the project, but he would find a reason not to explain at the moment. If Lulu was distracted with decorations, Millie was distracted with the Christmas party. It would work, and he wouldn’t utter an untrue word.
So why did he feel as if he might throw up?
“How are you feeling, fella?” Susan squatted in front of the kennel to rub the ears of the lab mix from which she’d just removed a fatty tumor. Benign, as she’d known it would be. “Your owner will be here after work to pick you up.”
The dog made a feeble attempt to wag his tail, but his eyes refused to stay open. Still groggy from the surgery.
“That’s okay. Just sleep. You’ll feel better soon.”
Reassured that the dog was recovering, she closed the kennel and then washed her hands at the sink. The door separating the clinic area from the waiting room swung inward, and the last person she expected to see entered.
“Justin!” Her heart fluttered in her chest, as it always did when she saw her handsome husband of five months. She crossed the room and flung herself into his arms, breathing deeply of the pleasing blend of his aftershave and the musky aroma of his skin. “What a nice surprise. But I thought you were painting a house in Frankfort today.”
“I was until Jeff called. He asked me to ride over here with him.”
Jeff Howard, the state police detective Justin had asked to look into the whereabouts of Alice’s husband.
Susan pulled back and gazed into Justin’s face. “Is the news bad?”
He nodded. “He’s telling her now. She might need some support.”
With an arm around her waist, he pulled her into the reception area. Because Friday mornings were reserved for surgeries, the waiting rooms were empty. Alice perched on the edge of a white plastic chair, her gaze fixed on the detective’s face. He held a thin folder in his hands. His thumb constantly rubbed one edge. A nervous gesture, perhaps? He glanced up, acknowledged their arrival, and then continued speaking.
“From there it looks like he drifted west and ended up in Texas. I talked to a border patrol agent who said they’d had him under surveillance for suspicion of trafficking.”
“Drugs?” Alice asked, her voice small.
The detective nodded. “Cocaine and heroin. They got wind of a deal going down involving one of the Mexican drug cartels and were putting plans in place for a raid. Said the mood was tense, and their informant disappeared. Next thing they knew, they got a call about some bodies out in the brush just this side of the border. Multiple gunshot wounds from an AK47, the preferred weapon of a prominent cartel down there. One of the deceased was their informant.” He paused, and compassion stole across his features. “The other was your husband.”
Alice’s face crumpled, and she covered it with her hands. Susan crossed the room and sat beside her, lending support with an arm around her shoulders.
“Are… are they sure?” Alice finally asked. “That it was Stuart, I mean.”
“Yes, ma’am. They had his fingerprints on file from prior arrests.”
Justin asked the question in Susan’s mind. “Why didn’t they contact Alice?”
“They didn’t know he was married. The officer I spoke with said they found his arrest records from Kentucky and notified Jefferson County, but the people who lived at the last address on file had never heard of him.”
“It was an apartment,” Alice whispered. “I left a forwarding address when we moved here, but that was several years ago.”
“In cases like this, it’s not unusual to let the matter drop. Police departments everywhere have more work than they can handle, so if nobody comes looking…” Jeff shrugged.
Only Alice’s soft sobs broke the silence that followed. Susan squeezed her shoulders.
“If he was killed with an informant, is it possible he might have been helping the police to catch the drug dealers?”
At Justin’s question, Alice uncovered her eyes, her expression hopeful.
Jeff looked doubtful, but before he could speak Susan gave him a hard look. The least he could do was offer a shred of hope, even if it was false.
He took the hint. “Anything’s possible.”
Susan firmed up her hug. “Maybe that’s what you could tell the children. It might make the news easier for them to hear.”
But Alice shook her head. “No. Fern remembers enough to figure out the truth, and the others don’t need to hear details. I’ll tell them their daddy moved to Texas and died there. That’s enough.” She straightened and lifted her head high. “But I’m not going to tell them anything just yet. Stuart spoiled too many Christmases when he was with us. There’s no reason to let him spoil this one too.”
Despite the show of bravado, Susan spied a fresh welling of tears when Jeff handed her the folder containing the details he’d uncovered.
“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” She almost said she could call Millie to fill in, but then remembered Millie was drowning under a ton of arrangements for her Christmas party tomorrow. “The afternoon schedule’s pretty light. I can handle it by myself.”
Alice managed a grateful smile but again shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Really. And besides, I need the hours.” She stood and, holding the folder in her left hand, offered her right to Jeff. “Thank you for finding out. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry for your loss.”
To which Alice shook her head sadly. “We lost Stuart a long time before he disappeared.”
Though Alice’s sobs had stopped, the truth behind that statement brought tears to Susan’s eyes.