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“Did you really break something?” Sandra asked. She was out of breath, leaning against the chicken barn with her hands on her knees.
“Nah.” Bob sounded smug. “It was just a sound effect.”
He never ceased to amaze. “It was a very convincing one,” she said between ragged breaths.
“I think I’m having a heart attack.” Nate clutched his chest, but she could tell by looking at him that he was going to be just fine.
She struggled to stand up straight. “Okay, now what?”
Bob made a weird clicking sound with his tongue. “I’m not sure there is a next. I’m wondering if that entire mission was a waste.” He looked at her. “We didn’t learn much.”
“Yes, we did!” she cried. “We learned that she’s probably the killer.”
Nate stood up straight too. “What makes you say that?”
“She didn’t show the note to her husband.”
“So?” Nate said. “That just means that he’s the killer, and she is scared of him and what he might do if he saw the note.”
“See?” Bob interjected. “We didn’t learn anything.”
Sandra looked at her minivan, longing for its air conditioning. “Well, aside from sneaking into her house, is there another way to spy on her?”
Bob looked contemplative, as if he were mentally scanning a list of possibilities. “No.”
Well, that was definitive. And she wasn’t sure she even believed him. Maybe there just wasn’t an ethical way to continue spying on her.
“Why don’t you two take a break from the spying,” Bob said, and Sandra couldn’t help inferring that he was also suggesting they were terrible at it. “And I’ll go back and watch the yard again. I’m not going into the house, but I’ll just keep an eye on the general property.”
Sandra agreed to the plan. “No middle school sports commitments today?”
Panic flickered across his face. “Yes. This afternoon I have cheering camp.”
Sandra snorted. “Cheering camp?”
Bob bristled. “Yes, cheering camp. Cheerleading is a sport, you know.”
Sandra wasn’t sure what to say. She’d never really thought about it. “Okay, we’ll go home. I need a shower.” She headed for the minivan, hardly caring whether her husband followed her.
Only when she placed her hands on the steering wheel did she realize the oddity of what she’d just done. Why was she in the driver’s seat? When the two of them went somewhere, Nate always drove. Yet, right now, she hadn’t even thought about it. She’s just wearily climbed in. She watched him open the passenger side door and climb in beside her, waiting for him to remark on the role reversal.
But he didn’t. He just reclined the seat with a thump. He threw an arm over his eyes and said, “Honestly, I don’t know how you do this.”
She snickered and turned the key in the ignition. “Do what?”
“Fight crime.” He moved his arm away from his face and turned toward her. “I mean, you willingly put yourself into these situations. I thought I’d been missing out, and I guess that’s true, but I didn’t realize how not fun your little adventures are.”
She wasn’t sure if she was being scolded or praised. “As much as I love spending time with you, honey, you don’t have to join me for these adventures.”
“You’re right. I think it’s important for couples to have individual hobbies. I really hate snakes.”
She laughed. “Me too.”
“Maybe. But you didn’t scream like a little girl.”
She bit back a snicker. “You did just fine.”
“Even so, I’m resigning. As long as you’re with the angel, I’m going to stay out of it.” He shifted in his seat. “I mean, I’d rather you resign too, but I doubt that’s going to happen. But either way, I now know that this is not my calling.”
“That’s okay, honey. This was a weird morning. We don’t usually hide behind a hedge for hours waiting for garter snakes to attack.”
“What a relief. I’m going to take a nap now.”
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SANDRA WAS ALMOST HOME when her phone rang. She swiped the green icon. “Hello?”
At first, there was no response, and Sandra thought it was Tiara again.
It wasn’t. “Hello.” The voice sounded familiar and some part of Sandra’s stomach recognized it well enough to be unsettled by it. But it took several seconds for Sandra’s brain to catch up. “You could have just rung the doorbell, you know.”
Yikes. “I’m sorry,” Sandra tried, “I don’t know what you—”
“Save it. I know it was you. What I can’t figure out is what you did in the backyard. I can’t find any broken glass anywhere, and I know you didn’t have time to pick it up.”
Sandra thought silence was her best bet.
Nate rolled his head toward her and opened one eye.
For a second, she steered with her knee so she could hold a finger up to her lips to shush him.
He opened his other eye and sat up.
“What do you want?” Daphne asked.
She didn’t know how to answer that.
Daphne didn’t give her much time to think about it. “Name your price. I’ll meet it. A bag of cash for the videos, and then we’re done. If you come at me again, I won’t be so cooperative. I figure it’ll cost me about the same to pay you off or to have you taken care of. Don’t make me regret my choice.”
Oh my word, this woman is as cold as ice. She had no idea what to say.
“So?” She was growing impatient. “What’s your price?”
Sandra panicked. “A hundred thousand dollars.”
Nate’s eyes widened.
Daphne sighed into the phone. “Fine. Do you have a pen? I’ll give you the address.”
“Yes, hang on a sec.” Sandra tried to calmly steer the van onto the shoulder, but it was more like a sudden yank to the right that sent them both hurdling left. The driver behind her laid on his horn as he sped past her with fury on his face.
“You made that guy mad.”
“Who was that?” Daphne snapped. “Who’s with you?”
“No one,” Sandra quickly lied. “It’s the radio. Okay, I’ve got a pen.” This too was a lie. She reached into the glove box and started rooting around for one. She pulled out seventy-five Five Guys napkins, at least as many bank deposit slips, some chopsticks, two packets of mayonnaise, a pacifier, and a pair of pantyhose that she fervently hoped were hers—but no pen. This couldn’t be happening.
Daphne was already giving the address.
“Hang on, I need paper.”
Daphne growled into the phone.
She grabbed a deposit slip and a lipstick from her purse. “Okay, go ahead.”
“Old Black Farm Road,” Daphne said with painful slowness. “In Chesterville. There’s a barn. I’ll be in it with your money.”
Chesterville? Why Chesterville? But she didn’t argue. “Okay, when?”
“Eleven o’clock tonight. If you’re late, the deal’s off.” The phone went silent.
Sandra sat there staring at the phone in her hand, wondering what had just happened.
“You need to talk to Bob.”
She nodded. “I sure do.”
“I’m not letting you go to Chesterville without him.”
“I know that. And don’t worry, I wouldn’t.” Chesterville was a tiny town north of Plainfield. It wasn’t on the way to anywhere. If Daphne planned to lure her out into the woods to kill her, Chesterville would be a logical choice. Sandra hadn’t ever met someone who actually lived in Chesterville, and she couldn’t think of a single business that made its home there. If she remembered correctly, even the post office had gone out of business. The place was a ghost town.
“Maybe you should even tell the police too. They could follow you there, back you up.”
“Maybe.” She didn’t think that was a good idea, though. Chip and Slaughter would take over and not allow her anywhere near Chesterville. Besides, she was confident that she didn’t need them, not when she had Bob. She would catch Daphne and tie her up in a neat bow for the professionals, just like Bob and she had done last time.
Piece of cake.