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The next few weeks went by in a whirlwind of planning, phone calls, scheduling staff, meetings with the florist and Carlotta’s wedding planner, plus a million last-minute details. In the way things usually went, the restaurant was also packed, with sold-out reservations every night. Sarah and Paisley were on the run, trying to get everything done without their third chocolatier.
Sarah’s idea about a fixed-price dinner was a big hit. The special deal drew in their regular customers in droves. Profits were up, and everyone was happy. Every Monday, Paisley slipped copies of the previous week’s paperwork into a FedEx package and shipped it off to her brother with a sigh of relief. Carrie was doing a terrific job in the dining room, charming people with her bubbly personality. She was going to stand in for Sarah as hostess on the night of the wedding.
Under the circumstances, it was relatively easy for Sarah not to think too much about Blake. Exhaustion put her to sleep at night. Now and then, a flash of green sunlight as she drove down the street would spin her into a memory of the world inside his eyes, but most of the time, she was happy to procrastinate in trying to understand her emotions. She knew he was out there, waiting. She’d seen him lurking along the sidewalk with Kahlua in the evenings, peeking into the window as he passed. She’d stood up straighter and pulled in her tummy, sliding her eyes to watch him secretly from under her lashes. But she wasn’t finished feeling angry and humiliated by all the personal things she’d said to him online, under false pretenses. And all the extremely personal things they’d done to one another right in her very own bed, where she had to try to sleep at night.
Taking some time is a good thing. Too busy to think about it right now, anyhow.
The cousins shielded Emile from most of the chaos, giving him “assignments” that required a lot of waiting by the phone for certain information to be received or researching sources for supplies on the internet. They made time for a daily meeting in his apartment every afternoon to bring one another up to date. His laptop and cell phone were the tools of his trade these days, Emile told the cousins with a wistful tone.
“Be patient. It won’t be like this forever,” Paisley said with a shrug.
Sarah agreed. “Grandpa, you’re healing fast, so don’t blow it now.” She gave him a stern look. “Listen, I’ve been thinking. What if you and Paisley present the cake to the bride and groom together? Photographers from the media will be there. Someone can drive you home right afterward. All three of us really should be there. What do you think?” She watched him and waited. The doctor had warned her that some people in Emile’s situation were a little afraid to resume their normal lives, even after improving their exercise and eating habits and getting a green light from their cardiologists. He seemed eager to go along with her suggestion, though.
Emile was steadily getting stronger and had dropped twenty pounds. He walked all the way to the river and back with Hershey every other day. The girls still wouldn’t let him work in the kitchen, but some nights, Sarah served him dinner at the bar, and he was allowed to brag about his granddaughters to the customers while he sipped sparkling water on the rocks.
Paisley gathered their tea things onto a tray and took them into Emile’s kitchen to wash up.
“I have to go pick up Devon at the Y,” Sarah said, tucking her notes into a folder and standing up. “Miki is visiting her sister for a couple days. She’ll be home tomorrow. Until then, I am with child.” She gave Emile a hug and kiss then stuck her head around the kitchen doorway to talk to Paisley. “I’ll be working from home, so please call me with whatever. Carrie’s going to hostess tonight, and Raoul’s nephew is covering the bar, so I’m good to take off. Bye!”
“Au revoir, cheri.” Emile looked up and waved as she passed through the living room. A brilliant glow from the window silhouetted his white hair with a bright wispy halo, swelling to cover his shoulders like two arms of fuzzy light holding him in an embrace.
Thanks, Grandma! Sarah thought of Annie, watching out for Emile as always.
Sarah took the back stairs down to the parking lot and headed for home.
* * *
SHE UNLOCKED THE BACK door, and Devon burst into the house ahead of her, racing straight to the bathroom. Hershey said his usual enthusiastic hello, and she opened the patio door for him to go outside then turned back to the island to browse through the stack of mail she’d picked up at the end of her driveway.
There was a nudge on her leg, and she swung around, startled. Hershey was still standing next to her rather than chasing squirrels around outside as he always did. And he looked funny. The dog stared at her meaningfully then walked over to the foot of the stairs and sat.
“Okay, what’s up, boy?” Sarah followed him, preparing herself for gutted couch cushions or a deluge of garbage. When he was a puppy, there had been some nightmarish moments.
Hershey waited until she reached him, looked up at her, and wagged his tail twice, almost bashfully. He looked up the stairs then back at her.
“Ah. You’ve done something dreadful, have you? Let’s see it.” Sarah started up the stairs, and he followed then pushed past her to the top, where he turned and went into her bedroom. She groaned. “Noooooo. Couldn’t you barf in the bathroom for once?”
She went to the doorway and looked inside. At first, she didn’t notice anything out of place. There was certainly no dog vomit on the floor or in the middle of her bed, which had been her worst fear. Hershey sat looking at her, hanging his head a little.
“What’s the matter, good boy?” She knelt to put her arm around him and stroke him. He was trembling. “Now, now, it’s okay. Calm down, now.”
He raised his head and licked her face, then ran over to her dresser and looked up at the jewelry box on top, then faced Sarah with sad eyes. She noticed the lid was slightly open, but that wasn’t unusual. She walked over to flip the lid up and had to look twice to be sure what she saw. Her everyday jewelry was all there, hanging on the little hooks and in the square compartments, but the Chinese silk bag that held her most precious things was gone. Vanished. It usually sat in the bottom of the box, filling the space. Now, she was looking at solid cherry, the bare wood. Her Chinese bag had disappeared.
Her paternal grandmother’s diamonds, much too fancy for any occasion in Sarah’s life except her wedding, and the opera-length strand of perfectly matched pearls. Two pairs of earrings one might see on the red carpet, and a platinum bangle bracelet channel-set with diamonds all the way around. It was Devon’s college education, carefully preserved in a beautiful padded bag.
Tears came to her eyes, and her throat ached. It was the last really valuable thing she owned, and it had come from her family, passed down through generations. She hadn’t sold the jewels even when things looked their darkest, because it never seemed as though they really belonged to her. They were her son’s future. It was the most she’d ever be able to give him, or rather, it had been, before some sneaking slimy creep had slithered into her bedroom and taken them.
She knew one thing for sure. It was not a masked man in a cape.
Sarah looked at Hershey, who was watching her warily. “Who did this, boy? Who came in here? How did he get in? Show me, show me, boy!”
Excited, Hershey jumped up and ran to the window seat. He leapt onto the cushions and pawed at one of the screens. Sarah saw it was in place but slightly bent, and small slits had been cut near the fasteners that held the screen in place. Hershey wagged his tail, proud of himself.
“Good dog! You’re just like Lassie, aren’t you?” She pulled him back down onto the floor and made a fuss over him, petting him and scratching his ears. He grunted with pleasure, sneezed, and shook, flinging a little spit around the room. Then he panted and perked his ears at something Sarah couldn’t hear, like the distant sound of squirrel laughter, and he was off, racing down the stairs.
Sarah turned the two metal fasteners that held the screen in its frame and lifted it out. The casement window was cranked open all the way, as were the other two in the reading alcove, as she had left them that morning. She looked out the window and down at the ground. The giant maple tree that shaded her window reached its limbs toward her. Several of the branches brushed right up against the house, and she realized it was like a ladder of sorts, certainly a path that someone athletic could have easily traveled. Two slits with a pocketknife, pry open the screen fasteners and push it inside, then swing inside and get past the dog.
The barking, growling, vicious, terrifying ninety-pound ball of muscle with teeth. The dog she’d just been hugging and kissing but who would never put up with a strange person climbing in the window. No freaking way. Where was the blood? Where were the pieces of bone and hair? Because that was all that should be left if Sarah knew Hershey.
Sarah cranked the windows shut and fastened them. Tomorrow she would call the tree service and have them cut off the encroaching limbs. She paused to wipe a few tears away, sorely disappointed that unless there was a miracle, her plans for Devon’s future were a complete washout. She went downstairs and found the note where she’d written the nice officer’s name and number and dialed.
* * *
THE POLICE WERE RESPONSIVE and sympathetic. A man and a woman, both careful not to scare Devon. She let them in and explained then went out in the yard to play catch with her son while they looked upstairs and dusted around the windows for fingerprints. Luckily, the pieces were covered by her homeowner’s insurance, and she’d had them appraised. The officers took the documents to make copies. They said estate jewelry rarely showed up in local pawnshops, since it was so easy to spot. They didn’t hold out much hope for Sarah ever recovering the jewelry. It had probably been taken apart, and the stones would be sold separately.
The officers asked Sarah who had known she had valuables in her bedroom. She couldn’t think of anyone at first. The police looked dubious, pointing out that nothing else was disturbed, and the window screen was left in place, as though someone hoped Sarah wouldn’t notice right away what had happened.
“Has anyone been in your bedroom recently? Anyone new, who might have had a few minutes alone to snoop around?”
Sarah immediately thought of Blake.
But that’s ridiculous. He would never do that.
“No,” she said. “Nobody at all.”
The officers exchanged meaningful glances.
“Really! Well, there was one guy, but he’s an old friend, and I know his family, and he would never, never... wouldn’t even need to. He has his own money and a successful business, and—” Sarah stopped to take a breath.
“Ma’am,” the woman officer said. “You never know about people. They can have money troubles or other problems you’d never guess. You want to give us this guy’s name?” She held her pad and pen ready to write.
“No!” Sarah said. “I do not.” Her heart raced, and she worried they might not give up.
The woman put her things away. She shrugged. “Okay. Listen, you need to be more careful, you understand me? I don’t want to get another call to come back over here because something much worse happened. You need to think about why your dog let someone break in here, unless your burglar was waving a nice juicy steak. Which sometimes does work, by the way. It’s a possibility.”
Sarah swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay.”
“And get that tree limb lopped! It’s not safe.” The woman looked at her with a stern expression.
“Yes, Officer.”
“Have you thought about installing an alarm system?” the male officer suggested.
“That’s a good idea. I’ll check into it right away. And thank you.”
Sarah walked them to the door and let them out. Devon sat at the island with a glass of almond milk and some gluten-free cookies. His eyes were the size of an owl’s.
“Hey, pardner, how you doin’?” She put her arm around his shoulders, wondering exactly how much he’d heard.
“Okay, Mom. Did you see their guns?”
“Yes. And their radios too.”
“Yeah, and they both had, like, these miniature baseball bat things hanging from their belts. To hit bad people with. Did you see that?” His voice rose higher and higher, and he started to tremble, tears gathering in his enormous eyes.
She surrounded him with her arms and held him.
“Mommy?” His lip quivered. “I don’t want them to ever come back, okay?”
“Okay. Nothing bad is going to happen, so they won’t need to come back, right?” She tipped up his chin and kissed his nose.
Devon smiled, squeezing a few tears out of the corners of his eyes. “Right. Thanks, Mom! Are you going to work soon?” He looked worried.
Sarah stroked his fine, fair hair. “No, honey, I’m staying here with you tonight.”
“I wonder... can we have macaroni and hot dogs for dinner and maybe watch a movie?” He tapped his mouth with an “I’m thinking” gesture, sneaking a look at her. A smile was lurking around the edges of his mouth.
“You’ve got it, pardner,” Sarah said. “Step into my saloon with the widescreen entertainment center. Let’s see what we can find to watch.”
Devon grinned and ran into the TV room, where he jumped on the sofa and held out his arms to her.
* * *
LATE THAT NIGHT, SARAH sat in the dark on her window seat, wrapped in a quilt, and watched. She couldn’t sleep. She might never sleep again. Every time she’d tried, lying down and closing her eyes, she imagined a faceless burglar climbing up to her window and silently sneaking inside. Her eyes flew open, expecting to see something terrible, only to find everything as usual except for the sound of her heart beating superfast and loud in her ears, and the sweat on her upper lip. After experiencing this several times, she stopped closing her eyes and stared at the ceiling. She wondered if someone could have a heart attack from scaring themselves with their imagination. She got up with her blanket and settled down at the window to stand guard over her home. She promised herself to call the home security system installers in the morning.
Devon had gone to bed willingly, asking her to read him a story. He’d wanted to hear all his old favorites, from when he was tiny. She’d read them in their traditional way, with all the right pauses and tones of voice. The ritual always seemed to reassure him. It definitely made Sarah feel better.
After Devon had fallen asleep, Sarah went to her own bed, finally let go, and all the emotions that had been building up in her came pouring out in a furious crying and punching attack on her pillows. Anger at the way she’d been victimized, yet again. Frustration, because she wasn’t able to stop it from happening. Fear, because she felt so vulnerable. Afterward, she’d rolled onto her side, defeated and empty, staring into space as she tried to recover from what had happened.
Hours later, camped out on the window seat, she was still trying.
It was quiet outside, just crickets and some peepers in the distance. Clear and cool, with a little breeze, and a quarter moon floating in a sky full of stars. She heard a car go by a few blocks over, closer to the center of town. She distinguished canned laughter coming from the house diagonally across the road, where a border of green television light showed around the edges of a pulled shade. She saw something move in the streetlight shadows below her. The neighbor’s cat, as quick as a cheetah, caught a mouse and stalked away into the bushes with the legs and tail all sticking out of the edges of her mouth, still wriggling. Out in the street, nothing moved for a long time. Leaning over and craning her neck, she glimpsed a sliver of her backyard, as dark as a black hole in outer space.
Sarah cleared her throat and noticed it was getting scratchy. Her nose wasn’t just sore from all the crying. She poked around and confirmed that her tonsils seemed swollen.
Ohmigod, just what I needed. Maybe if I drink a lot of tea with honey and eat those disgusting zinc lozenges, I can stave it off.
She pulled a pillow around so she could rest her head while she watched the driveway and stayed curled up there until nearly dawn. Finally, she fell asleep.