Barely Bewitched (19 page)

I dangled there, using my foot to grab the sill. Sweat beaded on my face and trickled down my back. Luckily, the bark was rough and ridged, because the last thing I needed was to slip and fall, breaking my leg and getting found in the bushes in my Cary Grant
To Catch a Thief
burglar clothes and mushroom headgear.

I rocked my body until I had my lower leg through the open window, and then I flung myself forward. I ended up in a half split over the sill, and I hadn’t done the proper stretching for that tonight—or ever—and felt muscles in at least four places wrench in protest.

I grunted and pulled myself in. I flopped on the floor, trying to let my body get over the insult. I didn’t care how risky it was; when I was done, I was leaving through the front door.

Merc did a limber ballet-style leap through the opening and landed next to me.

“Sometimes you really make me mad,” I muttered.

He yowled softly.

“I’m just sayin’.”

I dragged myself to my feet and put on my thick yellow gloves that could stop not only fingerprints, but any renegade bacon grease or other household contaminant that I came across. I turned on my little flashlight and hurried down the hall, poking my head in rooms. When I stepped out of a doorway, I shined the light and found Merc sitting near the door next to the stairwell.

Knowing what I know about Merc’s sixth sense, I rushed to him and opened the door. Sure enough, he’d picked out the master bedroom. I slipped in. “How’d you know?”

He didn’t answer. I guessed he was right about it not being the best time to talk. I went through the drawers, but didn’t find my stuff. The tops of the dressers had silver-framed pictures, bud vases, and votive candleholders, but no jewelry boxes.

I looked down as Merc brushed my leg. I followed him around the bed and into the walk-in closet. There was a narrow-drawered mahogany stand with spindly legs. I pulled open the top drawer.
Jackpot.

I found a plastic pouch with my wedding band and Momma’s pendant. What I didn’t find were Aunt Mel’s emerald teardrop earrings that I needed to save my life against Incendio’s attacks.

Oh, c’mon!
I thought furiously. After all the trouble I’d gone through to rob the place, I deserved to find them.

I went through the drawers again one by one. “They’re not here,” I hissed, pocketing the pouch with Momma’s and my jewelry. I got on the floor and looked around. Maybe they’d fallen on the carpet. I knew that Jenna wasn’t wearing them. I’d seen her earrings when she was standing under the porch light. They’d been gaudy crystal chandeliers that matched her tiara.

I searched the closet, the master bedroom, and a couple of guest rooms. Then I saw police flashers. I flicked my flashlight off and crawled on my belly over to the closest window. With my nose touching the underside of the sill, I peeked out.

A deputy’s prowler sat in the drive.

“Can you believe my luck?” I whispered. “Every last bit of it bad.”

Chapter 32

The doorbell sounded a doomsday clang, and I rolled onto my back while my heart tried to remember how to beat.

“It’s possible we tripped an alarm,” I whispered. “Maybe if we’re quiet, he’ll go away.”

Then I heard more car doors and scrambled to the window to look out. Jenna and Boyd were back and talking to the officer. I couldn’t see who it was, but I could tell from the roundish shape of the deputy’s middle that it wasn’t Zach.

I couldn’t go out the window with them standing right below it.

“Come on. We’ll make a run for it,” I said, rushing out of the room. I bumped into plenty of things as I ran and knew I’d be bruised from head to toe later.

When I launched myself down the last few steps, I slipped on the tile floor and ended up sprawled in the entry way as the front door began to open. I scrambled up and dashed into the dark dining room, cowering behind some chairs.

Darn it to hell!

Caught in the middle of my first felony! What I dreaded even more than jail was facing Jenna. She’d lord it over me, all smug and self-satisfied. To keep from going to prison, I’d probably have to apologize in court and say how sorry and stupid I was.

No! No way.

I heard them in the doorway and knew I should stay quiet and hidden, but my heart was pounding out of my chest, and I couldn’t take it. I had to get out. Just as I scrambled around the table, banging into a chair, Mercutio raced out of the dining room.

For one moment there was silence, then shouting and screaming erupted. I should’ve tried to help him, but instead I went out the room’s side door, through the kitchen, and flung open the back door. I shut it and ran, hopping over fences until I was seven yards away.

My thighs were cramping and my lungs burning as I cut back up to the street. When I reached my car, I collapsed against it, gasping. Then I dropped the pack under my car and tried to scrub the black off my face with my sleeve. I’d have to go back for Mercutio. I’d just say that he’d gone up the tree after a squirrel and jumped into their house through the open window. They couldn’t prove I’d been inside. They couldn’t prove I’d taken anything.

Merc meowed, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“You escaped!” I hissed, hugging his neck. I crouched, watching Smitty shine his flashlight around the front bushes of the Reitgarten house. I grabbed the plastic pouch. I opened my door and crawled in, not even minding the feel of Merc’s claws as he ran over my back to get to his seat. I pulled the door closed gently and watched out the rear window. Smitty didn’t flash the light toward us. I was glad I’d parked so far away.

I waited until he went into the house to start the motor. I slipped out of my spot and drove fast, but not too fast, over to my house. I was inside for about fifteen minutes and had just finished washing my face when my doorbell rang. I pulled on jeans, a T-shirt, and boots before I hurried downstairs.

I looked out and gulped at the sight of Smitty standing on my doorstep. We’d been friends until last week, when he’d arrested me. Bryn got me out of the charges, but I still hadn’t forgiven Smitty. Plus, I knew why he was here, and there was no way I was giving our jewelry back to Jenna. My ring and Momma’s pendant were safely upstairs in the false-bottomed drawer, and that was where they were staying whether I got locked up or not.

I tucked my cell phone and my wallet in my jeans’ pockets. I could go out the back door and climb the fence, but I doubted he’d had time to get a warrant, so running felt premature, especially to my muscles, which were ready to mutiny if they didn’t get a break.

“Go hide, Merc,” I said.

He cocked his head at the door for a moment and then darted up the stairs.

I pulled the door open and tried to look innocent. “Hey there,” I said in my sweetest “welcome to Duvall” voice.

“C’mon,” he said, grabbing my arm and hauling me out. He pulled my door closed, before dragging me down the steps.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

“You’re coming with me.”

“You have a warrant?”

“Nope,” he said.

“Well, we both know how it worked out for you last time you took me in without one.”

He yanked open the prowler’s back door and shoved me inside.

What the Sam Houston!

“Smitty, you better let me go,” I said as he wedged his bulk behind the steering wheel.

“Shut up!” he snapped. “I don’t care what friends you got in high places now.
My
friend’s sitting in a cell ’cause of you, and you’re going to see him. Never thought I’d see the day you’d turn into such a disloyal bitch.”

I blanched and pressed my body against the seat, drawing back from him. “What are you talking about?”

“You know, Heather said she saw this coming when you went to work at that hoity-toity restaurant in Dallas. Thought you were too good for all of us. Just biding your time ’til you could move on.”

Shock and confusion turned into fury so fast that I hardly had time to be speechless.

“Smitty! What are you talking about?” I couldn’t believe his wife, Heather, was saying bad stuff about me behind my back. I’d been a bridesmaid for her. Maybe the dust was working on their minds.

“I’m talking about Zach sitting in a jail cell, covering for you, while you’re shacking up with Bryn Lyons.”

In a cell? How and why? I opened my mouth to ask questions, but Smitty cut me off.

“Oh, yeah. We been staking out Lyons’s house. We’ve seen you coming and going from there.”

Those son-of-a-guns! While the whole town was melting down, the Duvall deputies had been watching Bryn’s to figure out if I was having an affair with him?

Smitty went on throwing accusations at me, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of what exactly had happened, so I finally yelled at him to shut up.

My cell phone rang, and I pulled it from my pocket. Smitty glared at me in the rearview mirror. I guessed he didn’t like his preaching interrupted.

I flipped it open. “Hello?”

“Good evening. Jenson here. We need you to return to the house.”

“Is—somebody sick?” I asked, not wanting to say Bryn’s name with Smitty listening.

“He’s suffering from chills again. We have turned the heat up to eighty degrees, but it doesn’t seem to be having the desired effect. More importantly, he’s asking for you.”

“So he’s awake though. That’s good,” I said. “Well, I’d like to be there, but I’m kind of tied up.”

“Miss Tamara, I would like you to know something.”

I waited.

“He never asks for anyone.” He paused. “Not ever.”

I sighed. “I get what you’re saying, and I’ll be there as soon as I can. Promise.”

“How long do you expect that will be?”

“Well, I’m locked in the back of a police car, but I’m hoping I can sort things out at the station pretty quickly.”

“I’m sorry about your misfortune and the inopportune timing of it. Well, do hurry, if you can.”

I flipped my phone shut.

“Who was that?”

I folded my arms across my chest. “None of your business. Hurry up and get me to the station so I can find out what’s going on with Zach. And if you’ve got him in a cell, you sure better have a good reason because like you said, I’ve got friends in high places now.”

Smitty snorted. “Like Lyons would help Zach. Getting Zach out of the way is just what the guy wants.” Smitty shook his head. “You know, I get what Lyons is after. And Zach’s easy enough to figure, too. But I don’t get you. You’ve got to know that a fling with Lyons is only ever gonna be that. The guy’s way out of your league.” Smitty pointed his finger at me in the rearview mirror. “You should use some sense. You’re gonna ruin what you and Zach have for nothing. Then when Lyons moves on to some Dallas debutante, you’ll be crying in your beer. And don’t expect Heather to be there to comfort you. She’s disgusted with you, just like all your friends are going to be when they find out.”

My cheeks burned, but I clenched my teeth to keep my mouth shut. I didn’t have a choice about needing Bryn’s help. Not that I could tell anyone that. And not that it was their business.

Plus, I wasn’t going to badmouth Zach to his friend, but he’d been hell on wheels when we were married, staying out all night drinking with his brothers. And he’d made me see a shrink. Even if I had been crazy, that jerk Chulley wouldn’t have been the right doctor for me. So yeah, I might not be the perfect ex-wife-turned- girlfriend, but Zach hadn’t been the perfect husband-turned-ex either.

I folded my arms across my chest rebelliously. Besides, why would I look to Smitty for advice on good judgment when he was taking me in without a warrant? That was how he’d ruined his case the last time he’d arrested me.

“You got anything to say?” Smitty asked.

“Yeah. My cat would make a better deputy than you.”

Chapter 33

I marched into the station and brushed past the desks to get to the holding cells. Sure enough, I found Zach inside the far cell. He was in the middle of it, doing push-ups. On a normal day, watching Zach work out is better than cable, but ogling was strictly a leisure activity, and I didn’t have time for it.

“Hey,” I said.

He stopped halfway down to the floor and then finished before standing up. Sweat dripped from the dark blond curls closest to his face and neck. He walked to the sink and ran water over a hand towel. He rubbed it over his face and hair before dropping it in the sink.

I waited at the bars for him, aware that several of the deputies had stopped working to watch us. I looked over my shoulder at Smitty.

“Open the cell. I want to go inside to talk to him.”

“It ain’t locked,” Smitty said.

My eyes went wide. With a push, the door swung open. I went in and stood near the bunk.

“So what’s going on? How’d you end up in here?”

“I took the Fifth Amendment a lot,” Zach said.

“Oh. How come?”

“Somebody claimed they saw you kill Earl Stanton, but I said you weren’t there when he died.”

“How would you know?”

He smiled grimly. “That’s what they asked, which is about the time I exercised my constitutional rights.” He cracked his knuckles idly. “Been under arrest ever since.”

I frowned. The Fifth Amendment said a person didn’t have to answer police questions if the answers could be incriminating. In this case, by saying he knew I didn’t kill Earl and then taking the Fifth, Zach was as good as saying that he’d either killed Earl or had been there when it happened.

“We told him that if he’s lying, it’s a damn fool thing to do, seeing as you’re the last person who needs protecting, shacking up as you are with a slick lawyer and all,” Smitty said.

I winced and waited for Zach to blow up at me or Smitty or both. Instead, he walked away, pulling his T-shirt off. He rinsed it in the sink and wrung it out.

“I could use some clean clothes. Smitty, why don’t you give Tammy Jo my keys, and she can run on by my house for me.”

“Hell, Zach, any of us will do that for you,” Smitty said.

“Nah. She knows where everything is. Unless you’re too busy?” he asked, glancing pointedly at me.

I was way too busy for any errands that didn’t involve saving Bryn, the town, or my own behind, but this was Zach asking after he’d laid it on the line to protect me . . . again. I shifted uncomfortably. I wanted to be there for Zach, but there was no way I could desert Bryn either.

“I’ll get whatever you need.”
Later.
“But first come here, so we can talk,” I said quickly. I wanted to move the conversation along.

He studied me for a moment before he joined me again. I leaned close and could smell sweat and him underneath it. It reminded me of kissing him after his football games, and my body tightened. I couldn’t believe myself. I guess I couldn’t help the effect Zach had on my hormones, but it felt really wrong at the moment.

“I hit Earl in the head with a rock,” I whispered in his ear. “It was self-defense. I heard that somebody burned his body. I didn’t do that, but I think I know who did.”

I leaned back to gauge his expression. It was like we were in the middle of a poker game. He could’ve been holding aces or nothing at all.

I inched closer and put my mouth by his ear again. “You weren’t anywhere near the woods last night. I want you to tell the truth.”

He rested his hand on the back of my neck. My skin came to life the way it always did when Zach touched me. “A witness says you lured Earl into the woods, hit him when he was distracted, then poured gasoline on him while he was out cold and burned him alive.”

I shuddered. “That’s not true! Who said that?” I whispered furiously.

“He messed with you. Lot of people know it. Some of ’em heard you threaten to kill him.”

I balled my hands into fists. If I’d killed Earl by accident, well, that was pretty much his own fault. But it sure wasn’t fair for somebody to say I premeditated it and killed him on purpose. Who would say something like that? Jenna came to mind. Did she hate me that much? Maybe. But she hadn’t been there.

“Well, the sheriff will know that’s a lie because there wasn’t any gasoline on him,” I said.

“Sure there was.”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Just what I said.”

I leaned back to look at him. He nodded.

I’d assumed since Earl had been burned that Incendio had come back and set him on fire over some argument. I thought about Mr. Brick. No gasoline there. Incendio didn’t need it, and I couldn’t imagine him slowing down a killing to use it.

I studied Zach’s face. What if Zach
had
come to the woods? If he’d gotten there just as I knocked Earl out, would he have killed Earl after I left? No, he would’ve come after me, to make sure I was okay, and dealt with Earl later.

But what if Zach had somehow found Earl dead and saw some long red hairs on him? Would Zach have burned the body to get rid of evidence that might have tied me to Earl’s death? Without a doubt, he would have.

His hand still rested on the back of my neck. Everything about him was calm. Either he hadn’t burned Earl up, or, if he had, he didn’t have an ounce of remorse over it. I leaned close to him.

“Did you burn the body?”

“I’ll have to take the Fifth on that.”

“You can tell me. I’d never tell them if you did.”

“I know that, darlin’.”

But I sure might tell them that he didn’t, if he admitted to me he was innocent. Zach probably knew that. Of course, he also might have done it and didn’t want me to mentally share the blame over things.

“Who said I killed him?” I demanded. Several heads turned to look at us, and Smitty walked over.

“A little girl. Abigail Farmer,” Zach said in a low voice.

The hell you say!
I pounded my fist on my thigh, ready to call her every bad name I knew and then some. But spewing curses at what the deputies thought was a child wouldn’t go over too well.

“It’s not true,” I snapped.

“I know,” Zach said.

“She was pretty convincing,” Smitty said.

I clenched my fists to keep my fingers from popping a gesture at him that I might regret. Good little witness! More like the wolf in Bo Peep’s clothing. For all I knew she was centuries older than all of us!

My head spun from too much fury and frustration, and I slumped back against the wall as I contemplated her. Had she burned Earl’s body? She could’ve. Whether she’d burned the body or not though, she certainly knew that I hadn’t done it. So on top of being a child kidnapper and attempted murderess, the Abigail imposter was also a dirty little liar. I began to see why Bryn didn’t care much for faeries.