Twenty-Two

Now what? I gingerly sat on the roof and contemplated my situation. Was there a way I could get Cornelius’s attention? The surefire way was to turn the Christmas lights on as he was a stickler for rules, but the plug was near the ground and if I could reach the plug, I wouldn’t be in this predicament.

Next plan? I squished myself into a tight ball, trying to stay warm. No other bright, or even not so bright ideas sprung into my mind. I shivered. The wind was cutting through my jacket. A strong gust blew. I braced my hands on the roof, and hunched over, praying a crosswind didn’t catch me. This was getting worse.

Brett would be calling me back. I could rely on that and the fact that if he didn’t reach me, he’d come to see what I was up to. Cassie should be coming by soon and she’d put the ladder back. Unless, she was the one who knocked it over and snuck into my house to find the ticket herself. There went finding out who Samuel was eliminating from his college years. Samuel was raised here. Lived here his whole life. Everyone knew him, heck even my attorney—that was it. Milton. Milton had been friends with Samuel from toddlerhood until their junior year of college. He’d know who was missing from the photos.

“Are you all right?”

I scooted to the edge of the roof. Paul was looking at me.

“Yes. The ladder blew over. I was trying to figure out a way down.”

“I heard over the scanner that some crazy woman was crawling across a roof.” Paul placed the ladder close to me and held it steady.

Could always count on Cornelius’s dislike of Christmas. “In this instance, I’ll let being called a crazy woman slide.” I started down the ladder.

“When I heard the address, I figured you were putting up the Christmas lights. I called the dispatcher and said I’d stop and check it out since I was in the vicinity. The weather this weekend will be terrible, and I knew you wouldn’t want to put it off until the following weekend when it cleared. Why didn’t you call for help? Scotland told me you were the independent type though this seems to be taking it too far.”

A rock formed in my stomach. I wasn’t sure how I felt about my son talking about me to his friends. Had my boy disliked Samuel so much he was trying to find me a better suitor?

“I dropped my phone.” I stepped off the last rung and bumped into Paul.

He placed a hand under my elbow, steadying me. “Careful, I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

His voice was low, intimate. My face heated. I moved away from him, deciding it was best not to acknowledge the comment as I was confused by his tone. “Thanks for your help. I need to locate my phone.” And peek in my attic. The bare ankles of the intruder had an idea rooting into my brain: Cassie was living in my attic. How many people walked around with no socks in winter?

“I’ll help you.”

“That’s all right. I’m sure you have more important things to do.” I wanted to check out my suspicions on my own. If it didn’t appear Cassie had taken up residence in the attic, I’d call the police.

“I know Scotland would appreciate it if I stuck around to make sure you found the phone and it worked. With everything that has happened the last few days, he’d be upset that I left you without a means to call for help.”

Paul was right. No need to act stupid because I wanted to protect Cassie. From what? Who would care that she was staying in my attic? Because you’re afraid she knows something about her father’s death. The truth was like a punch in the stomach. Deep inside, I still suspected Cassie and I tried ignoring it. I didn’t want to believe it was true.

It was better I had someone with me. “Okay. But first I need to check the attic. I’ve been hearing noise up there and I saw someone jumping over my fence.”

Paul’s eyes widened. “Merry, we have to call the police.”

I shook my head. “I think I know who.”

Understanding flashed in his eyes. “Does Cassie have a key to your house?”

“I never gave her one, but it would’ve been easy for her to lift it at some point and make a copy.”

“Do you want to check the attic first or look for your phone?” Paul patted his coat pocket. “I have my phone if that makes a difference.”

Warmth rushed through my heart and head. I wasn’t sure why I was so pleased that Paul was asking me what I wanted to do. It was a small thing, yet it made me extraordinarily happy. “The attic first. If I’m wrong, I don’t want the person to have enough time to come back and either hide evidence or…” I trailed off, not wanting to voice aloud any alternatives. None of them were pretty. I opened the front door and Paul followed me inside.

Ebenezer greeted us with whistles of excitement and tried to run out the door.

I shut it before he escaped. “I’m going to build him a habitat downstairs once I have some time.”

“I can help you or build it for you.” Paul leaned down and scratched Ebenezer’s head. The guinea pig remained still, enjoying the attention way too much. “Whichever you’d like.”

I started to say neither then stopped. Paul was trying to be a friend, and I could use a few more. It wouldn’t hurt to have some help especially since I had no idea how to build a guinea pig habitat. “I’d appreciate it.”

“Just let me know the times that are good for you and I’ll check my schedule.”

We went upstairs. The pull down for the attic was near the guest room. I was surprised Grace hadn’t heard someone walking around in the attic. Well, she had gone down to the kitchen, and I was sure Cassie stayed as still as possible.

Or I was wrong about who was up there. I hesitated.

“Want me to go up first?” Paul asked, reaching for the string that lowered the ladder.

“I’ll go first. I’m ready.” I motioned for Paul to tug down the ladder.

With one smooth yank, the ladder unfolded. Carefully, I made my way up, hoping with everything inside of me that it was Cassie and there was nothing incriminating against her. Even though it meant that I was still the number one suspect on Grayson’s list.

I flicked on the attic light. In a corner, there was a scrunched up My Little Pony comforter and a pillow. Stepping closer, I saw a backpack with a t-shirt peeking out. I knew that shirt. I had bought it for Cassie when we went to Hershey park.

“It was Cassie.” I was relieved—for a moment. Now, if only I could find evidence that she had nothing to do with her father ending up in the dinette bench seat of the RV.

There was a banging on my front door.

Paul headed down the ladder. “I’ll get that for you.”

The pounding continued as Paul made his way down, jumping down before he reached the last rung. The sound intensified. I hurried after Paul, wanting to offer whatever kind of protection was possible. Whoever was at my door was angry.

Paul yanked open the door.

Cornelius stepped back for a moment, confused. He huffed and puffed. “I saw what you did. Don’t think I won’t call the home owner’s association about this.”

Paul leaned toward me. “What is he talking about?”

“The Christmas decorations I put up.” I gave Cornelius my best Christmas smile. “I’m not going to turn them on tonight.”

“You can’t win me over with your sweetness.” He shook his finger at me like I was a naughty child tramping through his yard. “You’ve been trying to turn those lights on sooner and keep them on longer since you moved in.”

He was right. Every year, I attended the Christmas planning meeting and asked about moving up the date. Every year, it was vetoed. I couldn’t help it. I loved Christmas lights. The brightness during the darkest part of the year made the world seem so much more hopeful and bright.

“I promise I won’t turn the lights on sooner, Cornelius.”

He crossed his arms and evil-eyed me. “Don’t believe you.”

“If I do, just call the cops.”

“Don’t think I won’t. And you better not think of permanently parking that traveling circus vehicle in front of your house. It’s not supposed to be here. I called the HOA and Milton about it. Told him as your attorney, he should do a better of job of making sure you abide by the law.”

“He’s my divorce attorney,” I said. “He doesn’t care where I park my RV.”

“He should along with every other person in this neighborhood.” He huffed and stomped across the street, muttering under his breath about the crazy, Christmas lady.

Our HOA consisted of twelve houses and rules were minimal: no goats, no horses, no Christmas lights on until Black Friday, and no obstructing the road. That one came about because the kids in the neighborhood liked to play football in the street. The problem wasn’t so much the kids in the road as they ran to the yards whenever a car drove down the road, but the huge makeshift goal posts they created. One day, a goal post tipped over onto Cornelius’s car as the kids tried to haul it out of the way.

A sound came from my backyard. What was it? I strained to hear. The faint hints of “We’re a Couple of Misfits” reached me. Brett. The fall didn’t break my phone. I needed to leave a five-star review for the OtterBox case.

“My phone. It’s my lawyer. My other one.” I raced through my house to the back door. By the time I stepped out into the backyard, the phone quit ringing. It was somewhere back here. I secured the door to make sure Ebenezer stayed in the house. I didn’t want to have to chase him around the neighborhood.

I searched through the bushes under the windows of the kitchen. “Where are you?”

The phone rang again. Brett was determined to reach me and knew my habit of leaving my phone in a different room.

“What did you find out?” I asked out of breath.

“Do you have a copy of your divorce decree?” Brett’s voice was strange, a cross between gargling and choking.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you?”

“No. I haven’t received one in the mail. Since you’re at the courthouse get a copy. Get two. Bonnie needs one also.” Saved me some time.

“There might be a problem with that,” Brett said in the new strange tone I never heard come from him.

“You’re my attorney. They’ll give you one.”

“They can’t give me a document that doesn’t exist.”

“What?” I screeched.

“Everything okay?” Paul stood behind me, his breath drifted across my cheek. His hands settled a little too comfortably on my shoulders. He like likes you, Mom.

I jerked away. Paul’s touch slipped off, and I increased the distance between us. As I hustled into my house to take the private call, I called out to Paul, “Thanks for your help.”

“Sure thing.” He sounded disappointment.

“Brett, what are you talking about?” I watched the dejected man walk away. Should I have offered more of an explanation? I didn’t know how to navigate or what to call the relationship between me and Paul. He had been my son’s friend. My son said Paul was interested in me in a romantic way. Paul’s actions hinted at that. The truth was, I wasn’t ready to confirm or deny if my son’s intuition was correct.

“There’s no copy of the divorce decree at the courthouse. My appointment with the judge was bumped, and since I was here, decided to get a copy for my case file.”

“It’s not there?”

“I’ve had them check every file cabinet and in-box. It’s not here.”

“I’ll see what my attorney has to say.” I ended the call.

At least I knew why Grayson didn’t believe a word I said, he thought I was lying about being divorced. Knowing my voice betrayed me, I texted Milton. Found a photo album of Samuel’s and am wondering who a few people are. Can you help me when you’re back in town?

Almost immediately, he responded. Sure can. I can see you at my office in twenty minutes.

While I was there, I had one more question for Milton: Why wasn’t my divorce decree at the court house?