Lemon Tart (6 page)

She stood stiff and unmoving, her arms at her side as she
stared at the window behind him. The warmth she usually felt when he held her
had disappeared. Everything was different.

After a few seconds, he pulled back and looked at her with such
sorrow and regret that she felt tears overflowing in her eyes as tears formed
in his. “Give me an hour to get some answers,” he said in a quiet voice, his
tone begging for her to understand. “Then I’ll come back and tell you
everything I know.”

Sadie blinked at him. Was
he serious? “You think you can come in here, drop these kinds of bombs
on me, and expect me to do nothing about them? A woman is dead, Ron, a person,
a mother—my friend. The police are considering me a
suspect—me! You obviously know something. Do you really expect
me to do nothing about that?”

“No,” he said sadly, shaking his head as if accepting a reality
he’d hoped to avoid. “I don’t expect you to do nothing. I only ask that you
wait an hour, so I can give you answers.”

“Give them to me now,” she demanded, wiping her eyes and
wishing she could stop the tears completely.

“I don’t have them, or at least, not enough.” He looked at her
a long time, and she held his gaze. She thought she loved this man and yet
right now she was afraid of him and wondering how she could have misjudged him
so badly. What friend would need Ron to act as some kind of
go-between for Anne? Anne didn’t even know Ron’s friends—except
Jack. Ron and Jack worked together, but if Jack needed to talk to Anne, he’d do
it himself. And what would Jack need to talk to Anne for anyway? He’d moved out
just weeks after Anne had moved in. To Sadie’s knowledge, they had never met
other than the brief introduction she had given them one evening. There were so
many missing pieces of this puzzle that Sadie didn’t even know where to start.

“Please give me an hour,” Ron asked again. “Please.”

Sadie just shook her head, as much to say no to his request as
to communicate how unbelievable this all was.

“Can’t you trust me?” he asked. “Just a little.”

“Trust you?” Sadie repeated.

“I know it sounds crazy, but please. I love you, Sadie. I would
never do anything to hurt you. I promise to tell you everything I know—just
let me get a few answers first. Please.” He paused, looking at her, and she
could feel her resolve crumbling. They had shared so much, been so important to
each other. Didn’t that earn him an hour?

She nodded before realizing she’d made the decision. He pulled
her into another embrace, and this time she found herself clinging tightly to
him, pushing away the defenses that had risen a few minutes ago, and choosing
to believe he meant what he said—that he wasn’t responsible for
Anne’s death and that through him, she’d get some answers. He pulled back and
she let him kiss her, but it was flat.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” he said as he hurried for the
door.

The timer for the applesauce started beeping. She ignored it,
shutting the door behind him and resting her back against the door. She looked
at the clock—10:48. For little more than an hour she’d known that Anne
was dead and Trevor was missing. She felt as if her entire world had been
turned upside down.

Chapter 6

After
removing the hot jars from the canner, Sadie put another batch of jars into the
boiling water, wishing she’d been able to add ginger. Carrie’s car drove back
out of the cul-de-sac ten minutes after Ron had
left—reminding Sadie that she hadn’t talked to her
sister-in-law yet. A year ago Carrie would have been one of the
first people Sadie sought out. Jack’s leaving had changed everything. When he’d
been here, they’d all felt like one big family—at least to
Sadie.

After Neil died, having Jack close had been such a blessing.
Neil had lost his own father when he was young, so he’d made sure that his
family would be cared for, should something happen to him. Jack had not only
helped manage and invest Neil’s insurance policy to ensure Sadie would have
financial security for the rest of her life, but he’d also been a shoulder for
her to cry on and strong arms to lift her children when she couldn’t do it
herself. Though ten years younger than Sadie, Jack had come to her rescue
better than any big brother ever could.

The ringing phone brought to mind how silent the house was. The
caller ID read Garrison Hospital. She picked up the phone and said a breathless
“Hello?”

“Sadie? It’s Mindy.”

Her neighbor, Mindy Bailey, worked part-time at a
dermatologist’s office located in the medical complex connected to the
hospital; Sadie would have assumed the doctor’s name would have come up on the
caller ID, not the hospital.

“Mindy,” Sadie said, “how are you?”

“I’m just fine except for what I heard about Anne—is
it true?” Mindy was one of those hyperactive women who talked and moved faster
than everyone else around her. The fact that she had a horrible Dr. Pepper
addiction didn’t help. In a word, the woman was exhausting. Before Sadie could
answer the question, Mindy continued.

“I just got off the phone with Steve who said he heard about
Anne on the police scanner they always have on in the back office. Can you
believe it? Do you know what happened? Steve just left to go talk to the
police, and I’m just sick about the news—and that poor boy! I
sure hope the police find out who did it—that’s why I’m calling
you. I told Dr. Paxton and he said he could call his wife to cover for me so
that I could go home but I don’t want to go home with a psycho on the loose and
his wife always makes such a mess of my files and then I remembered that the
kids will be coming home from school and I don’t get off until five so I asked
if I could leave at three and Dr. Paxton said I could. So I’m leaving at three
and he won’t have to call his wife in—his nurse can cover for
me, thank goodness—but I have a fifteen-minute drive
and the kids will beat me home and so I wondered if I could call their schools
and tell them to go to your house and then pick them up when I get off work so
that they aren’t home alone. Would that be okay?”

Sadie couldn’t process what was being said as fast as Mindy
could say it. It was one reason why she and Mindy weren’t particularly
close—and why Sadie assumed Steve Bailey liked to work
overtime. What did she ask me?
Sadie repeated in her mind as she tried to pluck out the question from all the
other stuff. Kids—my house—after school.

“Sure the kids can come over, I’ll be here. They get home about
a quarter to three, right?”

She heard Mindy take a breath—ammunition for
the next round. “Yes, the bus drops them off at 2:47. They’re the first
drop—well, Caleb and Gina that is. Brandon, Sheri, and Chris
are on the elementary bus and they don’t get home until 3:04. Oh, thank you, I
can’t tell you what a relief it is to know you’re there. I hope they don’t hear
about Anne at school. I know it will be so disturbing and it makes me wonder if
Carrie doesn’t have the right idea—I heard she was going on
vacation, you know. I wish Steve could get time off and we could all disappear
for awhile until things get worked out. So do you know what happened? I mean,
it’s just incredible that something like this could happen in Garrison, let
alone in our neighborhood, ya know? Do the police know who might have done it?
Have they come and talked to you? I wonder if Carrie saw anything.”

Sadie had opened her mouth to answer Mindy’s questions a few
different times, but finally just closed it and waited for her to finish. As
soon as Mindy paused for air, Sadie broke in, talking as fast as Mindy had to
ensure she got all the words out. “They’re still investigating; I’m not sure
what direction they’re going.” She kept her own suspect status to herself.
“I’ll look for the kids after school.”

“Thanks, that would be wonderful. Tell them I’ll be right
there—but if they don’t know about Anne, don’t tell them, okay?
I don’t want them to be scared or anything not having me there. Hopefully they
haven’t heard already—would they tell the school? I don’t think
so, since Anne didn’t have any kids there. Oh, I’m just sick about this. Maybe
I should come home? But I’d hate to be alone too—I guess I
could come to your place but—”

“No,” Sadie quickly interjected. She couldn’t imagine having
Mindy at her ear all day. Things were bad enough already. “At a time like this
it’s better to have something to keep you busy. I’ll watch for the kids.”

“Oh, thank you, Sadie. I knew I could count on you. I’ll call
the schools and tell them to tell the kids to—”

“Okay,” Sadie broke in again, “that sounds great. I’ve got to
go, Mindy.”

“All right, thanks again. I just don’t know what I’d have—”

Sadie hung up the phone. It was out of character for her to be
so impatient, but she didn’t have the energy to keep up with Mindy today.

Sadie went back to her applesauce, arranging the cooling jars
on the dish towel. Trevor’s painting kept catching her eye over and over,
causing a pang in her gut each time she saw it. She walked to the fridge and
turned it over, but after another minute, she flipped it back, the bright blues
and reds crisscrossing the paper. Tears filled her eyes once again before she hurried
to get out the vacuum. She had to stay busy! She thought of calling her kids,
but they had class and work. Not to mention she didn’t know what to say or how
much to tell them. She’d wait just a little while—until she had
more answers.

When the floors were vacuumed, the counters scrubbed, and the
second batch of applesauce finished, Sadie took a deep breath and looked at the
clock—something she’d determined not to do once Ron had shut
the door behind him.

It was 11:53. Ron’s hour was up.

“What do I do now?” she said out loud. Then she took a deep
breath to get extra oxygen to her brain. She needed to think—something
she’d been trying to avoid. In order to better facilitate her concentration,
she went into the living room and sat in her favorite chair—an
armchair she’d given to Neil on their last Father’s Day. Three months later,
when she’d come back from the hospital alone, she’d curled up in that chair and
just smelled him. Later that night, after getting the kids to sleep, she’d gone
back to the chair, crying, sobbing, letting her heart break into a million
pieces. Sometimes she felt like her heart was still in this chair, still
connected to Neil in some weird, metaphysical way. But whatever her romantic
notions, the chair was the furniture version of comfort food. She needed
anything she could get, so she curled into the soft, brown suede-type
material—rubbed smooth on the seat and the arms—closed
her eyes and just thought.

Ron and Anne—what possible reason would he have
to go see her? Sadie knew the obvious suspicion but the thought made her sick.
Anne was young and beautiful. Ron wasn’t either one, but he had a certain
appeal; Sadie had certainly fallen for him. She shook her head. Surely there
were perfectly reasonable explanations for Ron to be at Anne’s house . . .
late at night . . . without Sadie’s knowledge.

She’d introduced Anne and Ron a couple weeks after Anne had
moved in, and they’d run into each other at Sadie’s house often enough to be
considered acquaintances. She’d never noticed anything between them. Had she
been so lovesick over Ron that she’d missed something? She shook her head
again. It wasn’t possible. She’d have known. She might be a romantic, but she
wasn’t an idiot.

Wouldn’t she have known?

Growling out loud, she lost patience with her pondering, got up
and went to the phone, dialing Ron’s cell-phone number by memory.
She’d given him his hour and now she needed answers before she made herself
crazy. The phone rang four times before his chipper voice asked her to leave a
message. She slammed down the phone and stared out the front window. It would
be foolish to withhold information from the police—that would
only put her at risk of further suspicion. And yet as she grabbed her jacket
from the back of the couch, the heaviness in her heart slowed her hands. Tears
came to her eyes and she took a deep breath, willing herself to do what she
knew had to be done.

“You’re stronger than this, Sadie Hoffmiller,” she said to
herself, the whisper sounding loud in the silent house. “And you know what the
right thing to do is.”

With that, she put on her jacket, said a little prayer, and
headed out the front door.

Chapter 7