| |
“You’re probably wondering how I know where you live,” Isabelle said, her voice deep and strained, as if it had taken a lot of gumption to push those words out.
Nope. It hadn’t occurred to Sandra to wonder such a thing. Showed how ill-equipped she was to be a secret sleuth. But now that Isabelle had mentioned it, Sandra was curious. Yet before she could demand a confession, Isabelle offered one.
“I followed you home yesterday.” She studied the toes of her own shoes.
Under the circumstances, Sandra didn’t find such a thing all that strange. She stepped back. “Would you like to come in?” Sandra cast her eyes to the couch, thinking Bob had probably vanished, but he still sat there staring at the scene unfolding before him.
Isabelle stepped inside. “Thank you. I’m sorry, but I thought it was weird that you stopped by yesterday. So I followed you to try to figure out who you were. But you just drove home and got out of a minivan, just an ordinary mom.” Isabelle’s eyes scanned the place behind her as if the sight of Sandra’s home confirmed her ordinariness.
“Yep, just an ordinary mom.” Who happens to talk to angels. “Would you like to have a seat?”
For one scary second, it appeared Isabelle was going to sit squarely on Bob’s lap, but he moved just in time. Though, he didn’t exactly slide down the couch. He just vanished and then reappeared two feet away, his disappearance and reappearance seeming to happen simultaneously. It was the strangest thing Sandra had ever seen.
“Are you all right?” Isabelle asked, and Sandra realized she was frowning and staring at what to Isabelle appeared to be an empty spot on the couch.
“Yes, sorry. I guess I’m still a bit shook up by all this.” Sandra looked at Sammy to make sure he was still where she’d left him. He was, so she returned to her ottoman. “What can I do for you?”
She took a shaky breath. “I didn’t know where else to go. My friends all ... well, I don’t have very many friends, and those I do have, well ...” She was having great difficulties. “They just might turn on me. Or maybe they already ...” She stared intently at Sandra. “I have no idea if I can trust you, but yesterday, it seemed like you knew more than you said you did, you know, by mentioning Mike.”
It took Sandra a second to remember who Mike was, and then she looked at Bob wide-eyed. So this was about a man named White!
Isabelle’s eyes followed Sandra’s to the empty seat beside her, and she frowned. “What are you looking at?”
“Sorry.” Sandra jerked her eyes away from the angel, who wasn’t being much help anyway. He looked as bewildered as she felt. “I was just thinking.” She loved that Isabelle thought she had some sort of inside scoop. She shouldn’t say much, or that illusion would be shattered.
“So, you can imagine that I can’t exactly go to the cops.”
Wow! This was juicy! “Right,” Sandra said slowly because she didn’t know what else to say.
“Oh, shoot. I’m not making any sense.” Isabelle put her head in her hands. “I didn’t even tell you about the break-in,” she said through her fingers.
“What break-in?” Sandra spurred her on because Isabelle appeared to be done with the conversation.
“Last night. I was out.” She picked up her head and looked at Sandra, and her cheeks were red. “And while I was out, someone, probably White or his goons, went through my house. They trashed the place.”
Huh. Puzzle pieces. Lots of ’em. And Sandra had no clue what to do with them. She wanted so badly to look at Bob for help. She had no idea what to say next.
She took the leap. “And why do you think this was Mike?”
Isabelle looked at Sandra as if appalled at her stupidity. “Because my husband named him with his dying breath! To a stranger!”
Oh yeah. That. “What do you think they were looking for?”
Isabelle shrugged. “I was hoping you’d know.”
Sandra fought back a laugh. That was rich. Isabelle was seriously overestimating her knowledge of this situation. She tried to make her face impassive. Maybe she did know, maybe she didn’t.
Bob started waving at her, his eyes wide and wild. She shook her head slightly. She didn’t want to get caught looking at him again. He pointed at the door. Oh! It was a game of charades!
“Maybe we should go take a look,” she blurted out, like a wild guess in a game of Pictionary when the time’s running out.
Isabelle nodded. “I knew you’d say that.”
She had? Sandra hadn’t even known she’d say that! “Okay, let’s go.” Then she remembered Sammy. “Actually, give me a minute. I can’t take the baby.” She chewed on her lip. She didn’t really want to invite the Pretty Little Liars girl back over. She looked back to Isabelle. “Let me find a sitter. Then I’ll meet you there.”
Isabelle frowned, as if she didn’t believe Sandra.
“I promise. I’ll be right there.”