Full House (6 page)

Billie had no intention of doing so.

She tapped Deedee on the shoulder several times before pulling the mask from her eyes. "Wake up, Deedee," she said.

The woman moaned. "This had better be good."

Billie planted her hands on her hips. "You left the front door unlocked last night."

Deedee yawned and sat up. "What are you talking about?"

Billie didn't want to tell her about the noise that had awakened her during the night and risk having her tell the children. "I woke up last night and found the door unlocked."

Deedee looked offended. "I'm not an idiot," she said. "I always lock the door, as well as the dead bolt. Besides, I used the back door last night because I didn't want to wake anyone. And guess what? I found
it
unlocked."

Billie gaped at her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I was surprised because I know what a stickler you are about locking up before bedtime."

Billie tried to think back. She was certain she had locked the doors. "Tell me something. Did you come into my room last night?"

"No, why?"

"Are you sure? Maybe you had too much to drink and ended up in the wrong room."

"I seldom drink anything except diet tonic with a slice of lime. What's going on?"

"I must be getting paranoid," Billie said. "I had a bad dream last night, that's all." Even as she said it she wondered how it was possible when she had distinctly smelled a woman's perfume. Had that been part of her dream as well?

"I'm sorry for accusing you," she said, leaving the room. She went downstairs and poured a cup of coffee. She paced the kitchen. Her eyes caught the key rack beside the door and she froze. The spare keys that she always kept on hand were gone. A chill raced down her back.

She told herself to calm down. There had to be a reasonable explanation. Had one of the kids lost their keys and taken the extra ones? Or could Deedee or Frankie have taken it?

She hurried upstairs to Christie's room. The girl opened her eyes. "What?"

"Do you have your house keys?"

"Of course I do. Why?"

"Someone took the spare set off the key rack."

"Don't look at me. Ask Joel."

Billie found the boy sleeping soundly. She hated to wake him, but she had to know what was going on. "Joel?"

"Yeah?"

She went through the same spiel she had with Christie.

"My keys are in my book bag," he said. "They're in the side pocket."

Billie found the keys. "Go back to sleep, honey."

She thought about waking Deedee again to see if she'd taken the spare set and decided it could wait. She didn't want to wake her again. With the hours she kept, the poor woman needed her sleep.

Billie bumped into Christie on her way downstairs. The girl was headed for the bathroom.

"I'm going out for a walk," Billie said, hoping the fresh air would clear her head. Her foot was too sore for her usual morning jog, but she could walk and think and maybe lower her stress level over the missing keys. "I'll be back in half an hour."

Christie looked skeptical. "Why would you walk when we have a perfectly good minivan?"

"For the exercise. Usually, I jog."

"At your age? Did you check it out with a doctor first?"

Billie rolled her eyes. "For goodness' sake, I'm only thirty-eight."

"You're no spring chicken, Mom, and you're the perfect candidate for shin splints."

Some people were really good at taking the wind out of one's sails, Billie thought. "Yes, but the exercise helps my rheumatism and arthritis so I just have to take my chances. Thanks for your concern."

Billie returned to her room. She no longer smelled the scent. She must've dreamed it. She slipped into her slinky black running shorts and dropped a cutoff T-shirt over her head. She laced up her running shoes. The swelling in her foot had gone down, and it wasn't as sore, but her skin was still tinged a light purple. She let herself out the front door a few minutes later.

It was a beautiful morning; sun shining, blue skies, birds singing. Billie stretched, took a deep breath, and started down the driveway, taking care with her foot. No matter what, she wanted to get out and enjoy the day.

She wondered if she should call the police.

Of course, they would probably assume someone in the house had forgotten to lock up before going to bed. Was it possible she had forgotten? It wasn't like she didn't have a lot on her mind these days. Maybe she
had
forgotten. She would hold off notifying the authorities and calling in a locksmith for now. Tonight she'd make a point to check the windows and see that they were securely locked, and she would double-check the doors before going to bed. And she'd hunt for the missing keys. They'd probably turn up

At precisely seven-thirty in the morning Nick rumbled down Billie's street in a rented motor home, trying to keep the smile from spreading across his face. He felt a little foolish, but the truth was, he'd always wanted to drive one. If he liked it, he might even buy it. He spied Billie's driveway and slowed. They were waiting for him.

Billie didn't know what she'd expected, but it wasn't this. She tipped her head back and laughed at the sight of her handsome, suave polo player/newspaper owner and lover trying to negotiate a big, gas-guzzling motor home into her driveway. She shook her head. With Nick Kaharchek you never knew what to expect.

Joel and Christie catapulted themselves off the front step with a shriek of excitement.

Joel was the first inside. "It's got a bathroom. Oh, neat!"

Christie climbed into the bunk above the cab. "Mom, look at this! You can sleep up here and it has a big window and it's so cozy and comfy."

"It has a refrigerator and there's food in it," Joel said, wide-eyed. "There are grapes and peaches and juice in here. And cupcakes and yogurts and lots of other stuff. Man, this is great!"

Nick leaned close to Billie. "It's also got a bedroom in back with a queen-sized bed. What do you think?"

"I think Joel's right. It's great. Are we going camping?" She had not planned to be gone overnight. Both animals were out of the house and Raoul was coming in to spray. She hoped Deedee would remember to leave as well so the fumes would not make her ill.

"Nope. This is a day trip

"Wait!" Billie said as Nick started for the stairs once more. "Stop right there."

"You should let him kill Max," Deedee said. "At least for what the little creep did to all my makeup."

Nick came to a halt. "Don't try to stop me, Billie," he said, gritting his teeth. "I've put up with as much from that kid as I plan to. He's dangerous. He needs to be behind bars."

"Do you
know
that Max did it? Were there any witnesses?"

"None of the stable hands saw anything and nobody was at the house, but it happened shortly after Max caught a ride over here with Mrs. Duffy, who was on her way to the grocery store."

"Just calm down. I'll get Max. Deedee, you pour Nick a cup of coffee and try to talk some sense into him." She realized, even as she said it, how ludicrous that sounded.

"Come on, Nick," Deedee said. "Together we'll figure out where to bury the body."

Billie shot Deedee a dark look as she started up the stairs. "That's not funny."

Billie heard loud music coming from the other side of Joey's door. She had to knock twice before her son called out to her to come in. She found Max and Joey sitting cross-legged on the floor, already intent on a game of checkers. She wondered how someone like Max could feel challenged with a kid's game, then wondered if Max had ever really been a kid.

"Max, could you come downstairs a moment?" she said, trying to make herself heard over the music. "Nick needs to speak with you."

He looked up. "What'd I do this time?"

"I'd rather you talk to him about that." Joey started to get up as well. "And you need to stay in your room until I call you," she said to her son. "This is private business." Joey opened his mouth as if to argue, but the look on her face obviously told him it was best to do as she said.

Max followed Billie downstairs and into the kitchen. Nick bolted from the stool and grabbed the boy by his collar. "By the time I finish with you, you're going to wish you'd never been born." Max's eyes widened.

"Hold it!" Billie ordered. "Take your hands off him right this minute. I'll not have any violence in this house."

"What's going on?" Max demanded, jerking away from Nick.

"Don't act like you don't know what this is about," Nick almost spat. "My Mercedes has been blown to hell and back. The explosion shattered half the windows in the house."

"Oh, man!" Max blinked several times behind his glasses. "Was anybody hurt?"

"Why should you care? According to the bomb squad, that bomb was timed to go off an hour after it was activated. You were long gone by then."

Billie had never seen Nick so upset. The veins stood out in his forehead, his jaw was hard as concrete. "Nick, please," she cried. She saw that her children had come to the top of the stairs and were listening to the entire exchange. There was little she could do. If she walked away from Nick in his rage, he might hurt Max.

"Why are you trying to protect him?" Nick demanded.

Billie looked at Max. "Did you blow up Nick's car? Tell me the truth."

"Hell, no, I didn't blow it up."

Nick almost snarled a response. "You expect me to believe that?"

Deedee stepped in. "Max has done some pretty dumb things, but he's never blown up a car." She looked at her brother. "Have you?"

"Of course not." He looked at Nick. "All I did was take a few things from under the hood to try and get your attention. I'm not stupid enough to blow up a brand-new Mercedes. Jeez."

Nick didn't believe him. "If you didn't do it, who did?"

"How should I know? Maybe somebody who doesn't like what you put in the newspaper. Maybe it was Sheridan. She hangs around all the time anyway. Didn't she buy you that car as an engagement present? Maybe she decided she no longer wanted you to have it."

Nick wondered how Max knew so much about his personal life. "It's over between Sheridan and me."

"So why is she still leaving you gifts?" Deedee said.

Nick flashed her a look of impatience. "Max is the one leaving those gifts," he said. "Your brother leaves me a gift and a cryptic note right before he sticks it to me. Why is that, Max?"

The boy blushed. "Because I feel guilty. I don't like causing you problems, but I don't know how else to get your attention."

"Well, you got it this time, kiddo, only I didn't get a gift beforehand. How come? Didn't you feel guilty sticking a time bomb beneath the hood of a sixty-thousand-dollar car? Or were you trying to get even with me for threatening to send you home?"

"Oh, man," Joel said. "Sixty thousand dollars for a car. Awesome."

Billie frowned. "I asked you to stay in your room," she said, much louder than she'd meant. She wanted to know why Sheridan was spending so much time at Nick's when he claimed it was over between them. Billie was wearing his engagement ring, they were talking about getting married in a matter of days. Her parents had probably already put a deposit on the tour bus. What the hell was going on?

Christie and Joel, obviously suspecting their mother meant business, hurried to their bedrooms and closed the doors.

Max sank into the nearest chair and wiped his brow. "Look, Nick, I know you don't have any reason to believe me, but I swear I didn't touch your car."

Nick realized there was no way he was going to get Max to own up to it, and the longer he stood there the angrier he got. He needed to cool off. He headed for the back door, stepped out, and closed it behind him.

Billie saw the color had drained from Max's face. The kid looked as though he would be ill. "Stay put," she said. "I'm going to see if I can talk to Nick."

She stepped outside and found Nick sitting on her back step. She sat down beside him. "Are you okay?"

He shrugged. "I will be."

"I believe Max."

Nick looked at her. "He suckered you in, didn't he?"

"No. Max isn't a violent person, Nick. The bombs he set off were made from flour and other household ingredients. Kid stuff, really, just to get your attention.

The bomb you described was obviously put there by a professional."

"Do you really think Max couldn't put together a real bomb if he wanted?"

"Of course he could, but that's not his MO, so to speak."

"What?"

"Modus operandi. I watch a few cop shows now and then. After Joel and Christie go to bed, that is," she added quickly. "Max is an environmentalist, and an animal rights activist, among other things. He believes in protecting life. Why would he do something that might end up killing someone?"

Nick pondered it. "Back to my original question. If Max didn't do it, who did?"

"Probably the person who called and said there was an emergency at the newspaper office. Did you recognize his voice?"

"No, but it's easy for someone to disguise their voice." He shrugged. "It doesn't matter if I believe Max or not. The police are going to question the Duffys, the security guards, and the stable hands." Nick paused. "Shit."

"What?"

"Arnie Bates. The stable hand I fired. He was pretty pissed."

"Would he do something like this?"

"I don't know. He's spent time in prison. I hired him because nobody else would."

"Oh, jeez."

Nick looked at her. "Everybody deserves a second chance, Billie."

"Where is he now?"

Nick shrugged. "Nobody knows. The police are looking for him for parole violation."

"Oh, jeez."

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"Because you keep insisting on surrounding yourself with strange people."

Nick sighed. "I completely forgot about Arnie. I was so sure Max was behind this, I didn't think."

"Why was Arnie Bates in prison?"

"Arson."

They looked at one another. "Oh, jeez," Billie said.

Nick raked his hands through his hair. "I don't know what to do."