Advance Notice (6 page)

Chapter Ten

First game of the season.
I sat on the bleachers,
prepared for the weather in long pants, a blanket folded under me to cushion
the hard metal seat, a serving of nachos beside me, and a cold diet soda in my
hand. It might still be a bit warm during the day, but the nights had a
tendency to cool off. Maybe I should focus on shopping for some stylish jeans
and long-sleeved tees.

Duane turned and scanned the bleachers.
Finding me, he waved. I gave him a thumbs-up, trying to ignore Stacy, who
grinned beside him like some deranged cheerleader. There to take notes on the
game, I was sure, once she got finished ogling my man.

So be it. Duane either loved me or he
didn’t, and I was pretty sure he did. Mom was right. Life was too short to be
spent on jealousy when there was no reason.

Lindsey strolled by with one of her
friends. They stopped along the fence.
Most likely to stare
at River Valley’s quarterback, Bobby.
Lindsey wouldn’t tell me why they
broke up, and I didn’t ask. She’d tell me in due time.

Danny and Amber shuffled by, the bored
look on their faces exactly like so many of their generation. Young people
seemed to think it was a cool look. That young man acted like a teenager and
looked like a teenager. Finding out he was twenty-four came as a shock. But, if
the one time I saw him and Darla together was any indication, the woman refused
to loosen the apron strings.

The ball was airborne: River Valley
Copperheads received and made their first down. I picked up my nachos,
desperately trying to enjoy the taste, knowing they’d land right on my hips. A
girl had to break her diet once in a while, and football season was as good an
excuse as anything.

Interception! The Copperheads were going
to have to get it together if they wanted to win. I leaped to my feet, yelling,
sending my dinner sliding between the bleacher seats to the dirt below. Now,
I’d have to climb under there to pick up my garbage. I pouted and plopped back
to a sitting position, trying to locate the spilled nachos through the space
between the boards.

“The game is on the field,” Mom said as
she and Leroy took their seats next to me. “We’re late.” She smiled and gave
Leroy a glance I’d rather not interpret.

“It’s still the first quarter. We gave
the ball away.”

“We’ll get it back.” Leroy situated
himself on his bleacher chair and set a small cooler at his feet.

“How’d you get that in here?” The
watchdogs at the gate prohibited anyone bringing in their own food and drinks.

“I have connections.” He winked.

“I lost my supper. Do you have anything
in there to spare?” I kept my gaze locked on the blue and white cooler.

“Your mom has hot dogs in her purse.”

Mom pulled out a foil wrapped dog from
the quilted bag slung over her shoulder. “I figured you’d be hungry. You always
are.”

“You know me so well.” I unwrapped the dog
and took a bite of spicy mustard and relish. Just the way I liked my hot dogs.

“You dropping your nachos was God’s way
of telling you not to eat garbage.” Mom handed Leroy his own wrapped meal.

Somehow, I doubted God would go to such
extremes, but Mom was right. I needed to eat healthier, and chips drowned in
canned cheese sauce didn’t qualify. But they sure were good.

By the end of the first quarter, the
Copperheads were up by one touchdown, and my stomach hurt from two hot dogs and
a bag of chips. When would I learn to pace myself?

Bobby leaned across the fence and talked
to Lindsey until Duane called him away. Lindsey turned toward the bleachers, a
wide smile on her face. Hmmm. I decided to head under the bleachers to collect
my napkin and nacho box before asking my daughter why the grin.

After collecting the trash from Mom and
Leroy, I headed down the bleachers and to the nearest trash can. Under the
bleachers, I scanned the area for a stick or rock big enough to scrape up my
mess. No way was I touching the nachos with my bare hands. Not after they’d
been lying in the dirt for thirty minutes.

“I told her I didn’t want to, but she
won’t leave me alone.”

I froze, trying to discern where the
voice came from. It was a young man, of that I was certain.

A girl answered. “You need to stand up
for yourself. I don’t know what it is that
has
you so
bothered, but no one should be able to dictate your actions. Not at your age,
at least.”

A sense of de
ja
vu came over me. During the last mystery I’d been
involved in, I’d found myself under the bleachers eavesdropping. Maybe the
police should take up this line of investigating.

“Hey, Mrs. Steele. What are you doing?”

I sighed and closed my eyes, recognizing
the voice of the mascot, Timmy Weldon. Why wasn’t he on the field? Now, I’d
learn nothing more tonight. “Hi, Timmy.” The voices had stopped. I scooped up
the nachos the best I could and climbed through the poles holding up the
bleachers. “Good game, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I had to take a break. This
costume is hot.” He wobbled his head, making the fangs on the snake head dip
closer to my face. I knew his voice, but the mask effectively hid his identity.
“Are you under here spying on the kids making out?”

“What? No.” Kids were making out? Where?

“There’s always several, Mrs. Steele. You
should keep your eyes open.” Timmy gave a wave of one scaly paw, despite snakes
not having hands, and left.

I glanced around the surrounding area,
trying to determine whose conversation I had been listening to. Timmy was
right. There were at least four different couples in lip-locks. Not wanting to
know any more, I headed back to Mom and Leroy. Wait a minute! That was Lindsey.

“What in the world are you doing?”

Lindsey jumped back from the boy she was
kissing as if stung. “Mom?”

I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes.
“Explain, and you…” I pointed at the boy I didn’t know. “Can leave.”

“You’re embarrassing me,” Lindsey hissed.
“It doesn’t mean anything. I’m trying to make Bobby jealous.”

“By kissing under the bleachers like
common trash?” Lord, save me from teenagers. “I thought you were a good girl.”
Had I jinxed her by telling everyone my daughter was good?

“I am a good girl. We were only kissing!
What are you doing under here?”

“Picking up garbage.”

She shook her head. “I have the weirdest
mother in the world. Why can’t you be normal? You were under here snooping.”

That set me back. What was normal,
anyway? “Not on purpose. Who all was under here, anyway? I heard something.”

She groaned. “I am not going to snitch.”
With a toss of her hair, she stomped to the edge of the stairs.

With her flouncing off, I’d lost any
chance of knowing whose conversation I’d overheard. I shrugged. Most likely
some kid who didn’t want to do what his parents said, and an evil girl out to
mislead him. Spirits low, I sank down next to Mom. My daughter had shattered
all my illusions about her. What kind of girl made out under the bleachers
during a crowded football game? Just to make another boy jealous!

I watched the second quarter under a
depressed fog. Even my wave to Duane, when he turned, was half-hearted. No
doubt he’d ask me about it later. I watched as Timmy hopped along the
sidelines, tripping over invisible obstacles, and harassing the cheerleaders.
At least someone was having fun.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?”
Mom handed me a bottle of water.

“I caught Lindsey kissing a boy under the
bleachers. I’m devastated. It feels like someone ripped my heart out and filled
my stomach with cement.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Everyone makes out
under the bleachers at some time during high school.”

“I never did.” Really? Everyone?

Mom patted my knee. “Sorry, sweetie, but
you weren’t real popular in school. You’ve always been a bit…weird. I was
always surprised that Duane dated you. Now, I bet he spent some time under the
bleachers before dating you.”

And I intended to ask him first thing why
he never took me! I bolted to my feet and stomped down the stairs, eliciting
some frustrated glances from the other spectators. Making my way to the fence,
I waited until
half-time
, then waved Duane over. “Why
haven’t you ever taken me to make out under the bleachers?”

“Excuse me?” His brow wrinkled, and he
glanced over his shoulder to the ball team. “Do I have to answer that now? I
need to talk to the team.”

“No, but I expect an answer after the
game.”

“Wait there.” He sprinted to the team,
said a few words,
then
dashed back to me. He leaped
the fence and grabbed my hand. “I’ve been wanting to do this for years.”

I yelped as he dragged me along behind
him. “I didn’t intend for us to do this now. I only wanted to know why we never
did.”

He pulled me to a secluded spot and into
his arms. “Because I thought you’d slap my face.” He wrapped his hands in my
hair and planted a heavy kiss on my lips. He kept it up until my breath came in
gasps and my legs swooned. If this was what making out under the bleachers was
like, I was going to kill Lindsey.

“Way to go, Coach!” A young man strolled
by, his arm around a girl’s shoulders.

My face heated as hot as my blood, and I
pulled away.

Duane gave me a crooked grin. “Was it
everything you thought it would be?”

Heaven. I struggled to breathe, and
nodded.

After another kiss, Duane pulled me back
to the fence. “Woman, you are a distraction.” He grinned and jumped back to his
team, who all gave him high-fives.

If I weren’t the one writing the paper’s
gossip column, I’d bet there’d be a blurb in next week’s paper about us.
Thankfully, no one, other than the kids, seemed to know what we’d been up to.

Despite the race of my pulse, I sat with
a grin on my face for the rest of the game. Whenever Mom asked what was wrong,
I’d giggle and say nothing. Not that she believed me, but the interaction with
Duane was our little secret.
Our steamy little secret.

“Dottie seems to be testing the waters,”
Mom said. “She told me today that she plans on staying home alone on the
thirtieth day. Said if somebody wanted her dead, they could fight her over it,
because she didn’t plan to just roll over and let them take her out.”

“That’s a crazy bunch of women you hang
out with.” Leroy uncapped another bottle of water. “Here, Marsha, you look a
little flushed.”

I accepted the water with a thank you.
When he kept watching me, I guzzled about half the bottle and prayed I wouldn’t
drown. Was this the subterfuge most teenagers went through?
The
normal ones, at least?

“I don’t hang out with Dottie.” Mom
glowered at him. “We can’t stand each other. Can barely tolerate being in the
same room together for longer than a minute.”

The Copperheads scored another touchdown,
bringing them up by six points and the spectators to their feet. My water
bottle rolled down the bleachers, splashing the feet of everyone in its path.

“You are a walking disaster.” Mom
scuttled after it, retrieved the now empty bottle, and handed it back to me.

I shrugged. “At least I’m not going to be
the prime suspect when Dottie winds up dead.”

Chapter Eleven

Mom didn’t talk to me for the rest of the night,
despite my apology to her and to God for my petty remark. But, she’d kept her
lips clamped as tight as a kid given medicine. I took a sip of sweet tea and
popped up the foot rest on my lawn chair. It was after ten p.m., but I couldn’t
go to bed until Lindsey got home, so I decided to enjoy a calm autumn evening
in the Ozark foothills.

Considering my senses still tingled from
Duane’s kiss under the bleachers, I refused to let anything mar the evening.
Especially since after the game, he invited me to join him in the same spot at
half time in two weeks. I sure had missed out on a lot by being shy in high
school. Even with my then boyfriend, Duane. He’d respected my wishes and let me
keep him at arm’s length.

Maybe that was why he left so soon after
graduation. I took another sip of tea. Dwelling on the past never accomplished
anything, though. Duane and I were engaged. All I needed was a wedding date.
Maybe in the spring.
May would be a beautiful month for a
wedding.
An outdoor wedding.

The ringing of my cell phone interrupted
one of the few times I actually spent on wedding planning. I set my glass on a
nearby café table and fished the phone out of my pocket.

“Hello?”

“You think you’re so slick, eavesdropping
under the bleachers,” the electronically modified voice said. “Stop putting
your nose where it doesn’t belong.” Click.

Well, drat. Here we went again with the
threats.

Six months ago, I’d almost
single-handedly been responsible for the arrest of the women’s ministry leader.
Sure, she hadn’t actually meant to kill anyone, but poisoning them so they
would forget certain details was just as bad. And one of those episodes had
resulted in a death. It was time to dig out my twenty-two
pistol
and
Tazer
. Duane would not be pleased.

Maybe I could add to the gossip column
that I’d received a threat? By doing so, I could possibly drag the murderer out
of hiding, instead of dragging the investigation on for the rest of Dottie’s
thirty days. Of course, by doing so, I’d be increasing the risk to myself.

Me or Dottie?
That was a tough one.

I picked up my glass of tea and watched
as Mom’s bedroom light flickered off. I’d miss her and Leroy when they left to
travel America.
One more reason to set a date before they
left.
Then, I’d have Duane and Lindsey to keep me company, not to
mention full control of the store.

Thwack. The glass in my hand exploded.

I knew that sound and dove to the ground,
taking what cover I could under my chair. Slivers of glass pierced my hand.
Blood glued leaves and dry grass to my sliced palm.

Either someone was a very good shot, or a
very poor one. I trembled, realizing how close I’d come to dying. I leaned more
toward a very good shot. Otherwise, why bother with the phone call? They could
have just put a bullet through my head, and I would have been none the wiser.

For several minutes, I sat and shook like
an old Chihuahua before figuring the shooter had left. I dialed Bruce’s
personal number.

“What?” From the tone of his voice, I
gathered I’d woken him.

“Someone just took a shot at me.” My
throat clogged with tears as the adrenaline started to wear off. “I’m
bleeding.”

“Where are you?”

“In front of my cottage hiding behind a
lawn chair.”

Silence. “Uh, that isn’t much protection.
Get in the house.” Click.

I crawled through my front door and
closed it, then dialed Duane’s number. By this time, I sobbed so hard my words
were unintelligible.

“I’m on my way.” My hero.

I still sat on the floor blubbering when
Bruce and Duane arrived, both bursting into the cottage at the same time. Duane
immediately went to his knees and took my bleeding hand in his. “What
happened?”

I shook my head and lunged into his arms.

“She said she was shot at.” Bruce stood
in the doorway. “I’ll look around out here while you take care of that hand. If
it’s a bullet wound, she’ll need to go to the hospital. We have to record
things like that.”

“Shot at?” Duane pulled me to my feet and
over to the sink. “Talk to me.”

I sniffed and wiped my face on my sleeve.
“First, I got a phone call telling me not to eavesdrop, then someone shot my
glass out of my hand.”

“Who called?” Bruce whipped out his ever
present pad of paper and a pencil.

“The voice was disguised.” I hissed
through clenched teeth as Duane thrust my hand under the faucet. “I was sitting
there planning our wedding.”

“You were?” A grin spread across Duane’s
face.

“I’m thinking May.”

“Sounds perfect.” Once the blood and dirt
was washed away, Duane dabbed my hand with a paper towel and started picking
out bits of glass. “Of course, tomorrow would work for me, too.”

“Don’t be silly. Mom would kill us.”

“Maybe if she knew what was going on.
”
Mom pushed past Bruce, tightening her terry robe over a
long flannel nightgown. Lucky Leroy.

“There’s been a shooting, Mrs.
Bohan
. Please step aside and let me do my job.” Bruce
bristled with importance.

“Marsha!” She shoved past him, causing
him to drop his pad, then continued to my side where she yanked my hand out of
Duane’s. “Who shot you? Are you okay? Why isn’t an ambulance here?” She glared.

Obviously, she was no longer angry with
me. “We don’t know yet, yes, and we didn’t call one. Someone shot the glass I
was holding, and I got cut.” My knees wobbled. “There’s no need for an
ambulance.”

If not for Duane’s quick response to
scooping me in his arms, I would have fallen. Seconds later, he’d laid me on
the sofa, pillow under my head, and placed a colorful afghan across me. Then,
he resumed work on my hand.

I met Mom’s hurt gaze over his head. Her
eyes shimmered with unshed tears. For so many years, she’d taken care of me.
Then, I married Robert, he died, and Mom had me back. Now, she stood aside
while Duane took over. How would I feel when that happened with Lindsey? “Mom,
I’d love a glass of tea. Almost getting shot has made me thirsty. Do you mind?”

“I’ll make you a fresh pot.” She bustled
back to the main house.

“That was sweet.” Duane lifted my hand to
his lips and gently kissed the palm. “She was having a hard time not bandaging
this hand. I could have let her, but, I needed to do this, too.”

“Mom?” Lindsey entered the room, eyes
wide, and furtive glances at Bruce. “What did you do?”

Why did she always assume that whatever
happened to me was my fault? This definitely wasn’t. Well, maybe it was,
considering I spent time contemplating a murder and warning another potential
victim. But, I would stick with my story. “Nothing. I was waiting for you.”

“It’s not my curfew for another twenty
minutes.”

“I was only enjoying the nice night.”

“Stop badgering your mother.” Duane
gently sat my freshly wrapped hand on my stomach and stood to face Lindsey.
“Most of the time, I butt out of things between the two of you, but your mother
was shot at and injured, and all you’re worried about is her keeping tabs on
you. I may only be your uncle, soon to be your stepfather, but I will not allow
you to speak to your mother that way.”

Lindsey stared at him for a moment, eyes
flashing,
then
flounced down the hall to her room.
Since she’d been so young when her father died, she’d never had a man correct
her behavior before. Thankfully, I rarely had to discipline her. But lately, I
hardly recognized the teenage girl down the hall.

“Thank you.” I motioned for Duane to bend
down. After kissing him, I smiled. “I’m exhausted. Do you mind?”

He smoothed the hair away from my face.
“Not at all. Are you staying on the sofa or do you want me to help you to bed?”

“Mom would be scandalized by you taking
me there, but the bed sounds lovely.” I sat up, and although I was now
perfectly capable of making it to my room on my own, I relished the gallant
gesture from my knight. Assuring him I’d be fine, though, I stayed on the sofa.
Minutes later, I kissed him again, promised to call him when I woke in the
morning, and waved him away.

Mom had never returned with my tea. I
suspected Leroy waylaid her and told her the truth about my wanting a glass.
With my good hand, I pulled the afghan up under my chin and closed my eyes.
Cleopatra, my German Shepard, laid her head on my hip. “Where were you, girl?
You could’ve warned me that a madman lurked in the bushes.” I scratched behind
her ears. A not-so-small measure of guilt over how little time I’d spent with
her assailed me. Yet, she loved me with every wag of her tail.

Wait. Cleo had been nowhere in sight
while I enjoyed my tea and explored what little I knew of the mystery. I rolled
back over. Twigs and dirt covered her coat. “Had someone tied you up? Is that
why you weren’t around?” I’d thought she was off, nose to the ground, to scare
up a squirrel. I’d been so preoccupied with my thoughts I hadn’t noticed my
companion wasn’t lying at my feet.

What if she’d never come back home? What
if the shooter and done away with her?

I fell to my knees, wrapped my arms around
her neck, and buried my face. “Girl, I thought you were a tough watchdog. You
need to stick around.”

Lindsey strolled back through, two
oatmeal cookies and a glass of milk in her hand. “So, what did you do to your
hand?”

“Cut in on a glass.” Was there any way to
keep Lindsey from finding out the whole truth?

“Can’t find anything.” Bruce held up a
bullet casing. “Sniper rifle. You were lucky.” He slipped it into his pocket.
“Come down to the station tomorrow to fill out the report, okay? I’m going back
to bed.”

Lindsey watched him go as she took a bite
of her cookie. Then, she turned her narrow gaze to me. “I don’t want to know.”
She whirled and marched out of sight.

Suit
herself
.
Since I was awake and no longer felt as if the ground heaved under my feet, I
tucked my throbbing hand close to my stomach and moved to the bedroom. Cleo’s
nails tapped on the wood floor behind me. There’d be no more forest wandering
for her. Not for a while. For both of our safety, I needed her close.

Through my bedroom window, I could see
Mom’s kitchen light still on. What if I went over there to pass some time? Was
she still angry about my comment at the game, or Duane’s sending her away? I
decided to chance it. There were moments in every woman’s life when she needed
her mother. This was one of mine.

“Going to Mom’s!” Opening the front door,
I peered both ways into the night,
then
scuttled to
the main house as fast as I could. Cleo kept so close to my legs, she
threatened to trip me several times.

The screen door squeaked as I opened it.
Mom glanced up from the table, jumped to her feet, and came running. She
wrapped me so tight in her
arms,
I thought she’d
smother me. “I’m so sorry, Marsha. I have a sharp tongue. I should cut it off
and feed it to the cat.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m the one
saying mean things. I’m so sorry.”

Mom led me to the table. “Do you want
some coffee? Tea?”

“Just water, thanks.” I rested my hand on
the table, wishing for something strong to kill the pain, but knowing how dopey
I got while on pain meds.

“Do you really think I’ll be the main
suspect if Dottie dies?” Mom filled a glass with ice cubes and water from the
refrigerator. “Because, that would make it seem as if I’d killed the other two
women. I might have a sharp tongue, but I’m no killer.”