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I went home the next morning, no worse for the trauma.
It’s thought to be good luck if it rains while the sun shines. Light rain streaked against a sunny sky while I helped Eddy move into the Bluebird Street house the next day. It was bittersweet. I was glad the house was occupied and I’d have a steady income until Eddy could buy it, or it sold. I added a provision to the lease that said he’d vacate the premises if I found a buyer.
“Whatever you want, Katie.” Eddy, as always, was amenable. We both knew it would have to be a super sweet deal to enforce the clause. We had history, after all.
I kind of missed him calling me, ‘Wifey,’ and we couldn’t rekindle what we had early in our lives. But you have to let go of some dreams.
Lola let Eddy take the rest of his stuff from the apartment they’d shared. I wasn’t surprised she’d hung on to it. Eddy had a way with women. No matter how poorly he’d treated a woman, they always forgave him. He filled his pickup and I met him at the house to help him get settled.
I left Eddy while he unpacked to the sounds of the radio blaring country tunes. I drove to my townhouse in style––Myra’s SUV. It drove like a dream, no noisy engine, comfy seat, great floor mats. Life was good.
I pulled into the driveway and parked in the garage. Wayne and Mrs. Gilman were planting another new shrub next to her patio area. Mrs. Gilman steadied the top of the plant. Wayne, his silver hair braided, shoveled dirt around the base of the bush.
“I can add in tulip and daffodil bulbs for spring color,” Mrs. Gilman said, as Wayne finished packing the dirt. “It will look wonderful.” She sounded thrilled with the new plant, her face aglow. She wore Kelly-green colored hoodie and sweatpants.
“That sounds great, Gillie,” Wayne agreed jovially, pausing to wipe a bead of perspiration from his forehead. “I’ll make a new planter for the patio this winter.”
“Oh, Wayne. A plant-holder sounds lovely. Something in red cedar?”
“Consider it done.” Wayne pressed the mound of dirt with the shovel. He was brushing off his faded jeans when I met up with the pair.
“Katelyn,” Mrs. Gilman, acknowledged, patting her tousled hair.
“Hello, kiddo!” Wayne chortled. “Glad to see you in one piece.” He hugged me.
“You had quite a scare,” Mrs. Gilman added. “Myra told us all about it.”
“Yep. But it’s done now.” I wanted to put the whole ugly business of Randal’s chase and the accident behind me. Not to mention, his side business.
“What’s going on?” I admired the new plant, a Rhododendron with thick waxy foliage.
“Will ya look at this? I tell ya, Gillie is a genius with flowers and shrubs. This is going to make this place first rate.”
“Oh, Wayne,” Mrs. Gilman protested with a shy smile, blushing a bright pink.
“Very nice,” I agreed.
“So, that Eddy of yours is moving out,” Wayne said, as he dug in his front shirt pocket for a pack of unfiltered Camel’s.
“Yep. He’s going to rent the Bluebird Street house. It’ll be an income. Pay for the house, at least until I get a buyer.”
Mrs. Gilman continued to admire her new plant.
“Bet ya kind of got used to the company,” Wayne added. I was never any good at hiding my feelings. I had one of those faces which showed every emotion, and I hated it. Suddenly, I felt myself misting up.
“Sure. But it’s time he got back on his feet.” Abruptly, I added, “Well, guys, have fun. I’ve got to feed Boots.” I wanted the safety of my home before I made a fool of myself in front of the seniors. At the moment, it appeared love was in the air for everyone except for yours truly. I knew it was best Eddy moved out, but wasn’t prepared for my reaction. He’ll be back, like a bad dream.
I squared my shoulders, head high, as I rounded the end of the townhouses to the front entrance. As I was about to open the main door, the sheriff’s car drove up and parked in the driveway. The bubble light wasn’t lit, and the siren was off. That was a plus.
Sheriff Don switched off the engine and got out. I halted and wondered, what trouble I might have gotten myself into this time?
“Hello Kate,” the Sheriff said, his blue eyes twinkling, as he walked towards me.
“Sheriff, what can I do for you?” I asked, my mind searching for loose ends on Ariel’s death, or any more bodies left by Paul Seever and the funeral director. I got nothing.
“This is purely a social call, Kate,” the sheriff said. He smiled and the lines at the edge of his eyes crinkled, “Call me Don.”
“In that case, come in.” I pivoted and he followed me through the corridor of the complex.
I unlocked the house door, threw my handbag on a kitchen chair, and draped my jacket over the back. “Please, have a seat. Coffee?” My heart skipped a beat, as I tried to appear casual and composed.
“I’d like that.”
I put on the coffee, and faced the sheriff, surveying his strong jaw and silver-touched blond hair. He was comfortably settled at the table where Boots sniffed at his feet.
“I have tickets to the Policeman’s Holiday Dance. All proceeds go to the widows and orphans fund; can I put you down for a ticket?”
My stomach dropped, and I kept a note of disappointment out of my voice. “Sure,” I said, and went for my purse. As I dug around in the handbag, he added, “And I would be honored, if I could have the pleasure of your company for the dance?”
“Are you asking me out, Sheriff?” My stomach did a flip.
“Yes, Kate, I’m asking you out.” He cleared his throat, his deep blue eyes focused on mine.
“I’d love to.” My mind was whirling.
“It’s a date,” he said, with a broad smile. I offered my hand for a shake to seal the date. He took my hand in his, his fingers stroking the top, holding my hand in his for a long minute.
The coffeemaker gave a gurgle and a hiss, which meant it had finished perking. I withdrew my hand, “Cream or sugar?”
“Black.” A man who understood coffee. I filled two mugs and joined him at the table.
“Sheriff, I have a question about Mr. Randal.” The thought had nagged at me even though the case was closed.
“It’s Don, please. What’s on your mind?”
“Okay,” I paused, and asked, “Don. How did he get Jimmy Woo’s body in the attic?”
“Randal was a low-tech kind of guy. He had a two-wheeler to move the body. Used bungee cords to secure the body to the cart, undid the body from the cart, secured the body to a rope. Threw the rope over the attic beams. The rope acted as a pulley to hoist the weight through the access panel. With Jimmy being a small man and with both men, Paul Seever and Jackson Randal moving the body, it was doable.” He took a gulp of coffee.
“Why the attic?” I sipped my coffee. “Was he coming back for him?”
“Okay, that’s three questions, Kate,” he grinned. “Don’t really know. Can’t ask Randal or Seever, they’re both dead. Might be Jimmy’s death was personal. He owed Randal for drugs; that’s why Randal killed him. Don’t know what plans he had for his body.”
“Thank goodness, he was found out,” and I gave a shudder.
“Yep. Sad state of affairs.”
“I guess that does it,” I said, sitting back. Sheriff Don took a gulp, finished his coffee and stood up, “I’ll be going. Glad you weren’t hurt in the chase, Kate.”
“Me, too.”
The air in the room got very warm. Don leaned down and kissed me gently on the lips. The feel of his soft mouth on mine left me speechless. Then, he went to the door and let himself out.