Witness (3 page)

Joe nodded, realizing he couldn’t graciously decline now. “Lead me to it, Keilah.”

Her smile was quite attractive, he thought. But he hoped this wouldn’t become a habit.

He followed her out into the chilly May sunshine. Bethany and the handyman stood on the sidewalk looking at a sign-board propped against the wall of their shop. The eight-foot sign was painted with a flowery Victorian border in gold and pink. The name leaped out at him in large, fancy letters.

“‘You Shouldn’t Have’, huh?” Joe laughed.

Bethany looked toward them and smiled. “Hi, Joe. Yes, that’s the name of our gift shop.”

“Well,” Joe said, rolling up his sleeves, “maybe I should hang a sign that says,
But since you did, maybe I can help you.
”

Three aspirin kept Petra’s headache at bay for half her shift Friday morning, but she didn’t feel as sharp as she ought to be. She tried to focus on her patients’ needs. As long as she had to concentrate on a patient, she could forget about what she’d seen the night before.

But when she paused for a cup of coffee or sat to do paperwork, the scene she’d witnessed from the deck replayed in her mind. She found herself shaking and trying to block the image of the woman whose eyes bulged as her lips parted in a soundless scream.

By midafternoon her hands wouldn’t stay steady enough to hold a cup of coffee without spilling it. She went to a supply closet for a nebulizer required by an asthma patient, and when another nurse appeared unexpectedly in the doorway, Petra jumped, her pulse rocketing.

This is ridiculous. Too much caffeine.
But she knew that wasn’t it. Each time she regained her composure, the knowledge that a possible murderer walked free in her neighborhood came back to unsettle her. She just couldn’t believe that the authorities wouldn’t listen to her, had just brushed her off as delusional.

Her supervisor approached her late in the afternoon.

“Can you stay an extra hour or so? One of the night nurses called in sick. I’ve lined up a sub, but she’ll be late.”

Petra groaned inwardly, but for the past month, since they’d been shorthanded, working extra hours seemed the only way to stay in the head nurse’s good graces. She forced a smile.

“Sure. An extra hour won’t kill me.”

When at last she left work, the sky was blanketed in dark clouds and rain drizzled down. She walked out to the vast parking lot wishing she’d moved her car to a closer space when the shifts changed. Last week two women had their purses snatched in this parking lot. She kept her chin up and tried to walk confidently, looking alert. Thieves were more likely to target someone who seemed distracted or fearful, right?

As she reached her car, she noticed a man moving between the vehicles in the next row. His stealthy manner chilled her. She hit the remote opener for her car door and dove into the driver’s seat.

With the doors safely locked, she looked around but couldn’t spot the man. Should she call and report this to hospital security? It could be nothing. She drove grimly home in the rain, her back rigid and her hands clenching the steering wheel. At least she wasn’t on call this weekend.

She got out in her garage and looked around carefully before closing the overhead door. Mason whined on the other side of the kitchen door.

“It’s me, boy.”

He barked and danced around her as she entered, and barked again when she shut the door.

Petra sighed. “I know I’m late, and you need to go out. Let me get out of my uniform.”

Her cell phone rang as she slipped on her sneakers, and she pulled it out of her purse. The Caller ID informed her that the number was blocked.

“Hello?” After a moment’s silence she spoke again. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

She snapped the phone shut.

Maybe she wouldn’t wait until tomorrow to drive to Waterville. She dreaded spending another long night here alone with Mason. Hauling in a shaky breath, she fumbled to bring up Bethany’s phone number.

“Hey, Beth? It’s me.”

“Hi, sis. Are you all set to come up here tomorrow?”

“No. Well, I was thinking maybe I’d hit the road tonight. What do you—”

“Terrific!” Bethany immediately launched into a muffled discussion, and Petra had to smile. Her big sister couldn’t wait to tell Keilah. It was great feeling like part of the family again. They’d lived out of state for years, and Petra had kept minimal contact with them. She’d isolated herself too long.

After a few moments Bethany turned her attention back to the phone conversation. “Keilah says we’ll hold supper for you.”

“Oh, no, don’t do that. I doubt I can get there before nine.”

“We’re still at the store working. There’s so much to do before the opening, we’ve been putting in twelve-hour days. Come on! We’ll have a snack and keep slaving away until you get here.”

Mason whined, and Petra glanced at him. “Well, okay. I’ve got to walk the dog and pack a few things. I’ll try to make it by eight-thirty.”

“Great. No speeding tickets, though.”

Petra chuckled, but her tight chest hurt. She couldn’t help wondering about that anonymous phone call. How hard would it be for someone who wanted to harass her to find her cell phone number? Not all that difficult, she guessed. She listed it on her checks and gave it out freely to acquaintances. She went to the patio door. With one finger, she pushed back the edge of the left-hand drape just far enough to give her a view of the Harwood house. Across the backyards, the house stared back at her. Its drapes were closed, too.

“C
ome on, Petra, take a break.” Bethany came around the greeting card display rack with a smile. “Time for coffee.”

“I’m almost finished. Be right there.” Petra swiftly sorted the last handful of cards and inserted them into the rack’s slots. All morning she’d helped her sisters clean the new store and unpack merchandise for the shop, but her mind flitted to other things.

Should I tell them?

She had come here for solace, but gleeful reunion had filled last night. Her sisters had delighted in showing off the store and the new house. Everyone was tired, and the moment hadn’t seemed right. Now Saturday was flying past. She hadn’t yet worked up the nerve to reveal to them her experience Thursday night.

When she entered the office, Bethany was pouring coffee for three. She’d set a basket of blueberry muffins and a few decorative paper napkins on the table. Her flushed face and satisfied smile told Petra that Bethany had found contentment. Her long-held dream of owning a business was materializing. Petra didn’t want to spoil that. She hadn’t seen Bethany so happy for at least three years. The sudden death of her husband had sat heavily on her sister. But now she was excited; almost carefree.

I shouldn’t tell them.

Petra let out an anxious breath and sat just as Keilah burst into the small room.

“Hey, look who I brought for coffee. Petra, this is the owner of the fine establishment next door, Tarleton Detective Agency.”

Bethany’s eyes lit up. “Hello, Joe. Grab that chipped mug we were going to send back, Keilah, and rinse it out for Joe. What’s up in the detective business?”

Petra looked up at the good-looking but slightly disheveled man in the doorway. “You know how it is. I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

His choice of words sent a shock along Petra’s already sensitive nerves, but the handsome smile that followed his remark assured her he was just kidding. Keilah laughed and looked over her shoulder as she headed for the washroom with the mug.

Petra eased her chair over a few inches to make room for the detective.

“Hi.” Joe’s chocolate-brown eyes settled on her.

Petra nodded and averted her eyes. Joe’s keen expression and chiseled features were difficult to ignore. The fine lines at the corners of his eyes and the shadow of whiskers on his jaw didn’t detract from his appeal.

Keilah emerged with the clean mug and poured a cup of coffee for him. “You needed a break when I looked in on you, Joe. Besides, I wanted you to come meet our sister.”

His gaze skimmed over Petra again. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Joe Tarleton.”

“Hello. I’m Petra.”

“Petra?” He did a double take. “You ladies have interesting names.”

Bethany chuckled. “They’re names of places in the Holy Land. Our mother always wanted to go there.”

He took a muffin and placed it on the napkin Keilah slid before him.

“Are there any more?”

“Any more muffins?” Bethany asked.

He laughed, and Petra made herself look away. His magnetic smile drew her as if she were scrap iron. Did Keilah have her eye on him? Keilah wasn’t usually a flirt. But this guy…there was something about him. Even with the loosened knot of his necktie and the scuffed loafers, his presence had a definite effect on Petra. He looked like the downtrodden antihero out of a 1940’s movie who would rise above his modest circumstances and save the world. Did either of her sisters feel it?

“I meant, any more sisters.” He stirred a spoonful of sugar into his coffee.

“Oh, sure. There’s Sharon,” said Bethany.

“Sharon is a place?” Joe’s dark brows almost met above the bridge of his nose as he frowned at Bethany.

“It certainly is. And surely you’ve heard of New Sharon, Maine.”

“Well, yeah. So, there’s an Old Sharon, too?”

“Oh, great! Don’t you ever let our sister Sharon hear you say that!” Keilah scowled at Joe, but her eyes twinkled.

Joe took a cautious sip from his mug. “Hey, this is terrific.” He took a bite of the muffin.

Petra realized she was watching him—staring, really. She tore her gaze away and met Keilah’s eyes. Her sister smiled and arched her brows in silent inquiry. Petra felt her cheeks flush, a common betrayal of her emotions, due to her pale skin and auburn hair. She sipped her black coffee while attempting to recover her poise.

“So, Petra, are you the baker in this group?” Joe asked.

“No, I’m just here to help them set up the gift shop.”

“Petra is a nurse at Maine Medical Center,” Keilah interjected.

Joe arched his dark eyebrows. “In Portland?”

Bethany said, “Yes, but we’re trying to entice her to quit her job and come throw in her lot with us.”

He nodded, still watching Petra closely.

Joe’s scrutiny made her fidgety. It was as if he was trying to read her mind. She lowered her lashes so she couldn’t see his intent gaze—intelligent, piercing, inviting—and felt the tint in her cheeks deepen from delicate rose to what must be fire-engine red.

Funny, his attention didn’t annoy her. Usually when a man came on to her, she suspected insincerity and wanted to run the other way. But Joe Tarleton seemed genuine. He lacked the polish of the doctors and businessmen she met in Portland, but he had charm to spare.

“Joe is a detective,” Keilah said, seemingly unaware of the tension between them.

“Yes, I think someone mentioned that.” Petra nodded and bit her upper lip. The thought of blurting out her story mushroomed in her mind. She couldn’t quite look him in the eye anymore. “Are you…with the police department?”

“Oh, no, I’m independent.”

“He’s a private eye,” Bethany said. “It’s comforting to have him next door.”

Petra could think of better neighbors for a gift shop. Of course, she had noticed a boutique across the street. But still, a private investigator might be useful. She eyed him while he helped himself to another muffin and complimented her sisters on the attractive layout of the shop. Could Joe Tarleton possibly help her find out what exactly had happened at the Harwood house?

No, better forget about it. She’d already decided not to tell anyone else. The police didn’t believe her story. Why should a private detective? And if she told her sisters and they dismissed her tale, she wouldn’t be able to stand it.

The discussion ebbed and flowed around her, and several times Petra felt Joe’s gaze on her. She hoped Keilah didn’t notice. She didn’t want to attract a man her sister favored. Maybe when she left tomorrow, Joe would focus his sights on Keilah.

Petra didn’t consider herself to be prettier than her sisters, although some people seemed mesmerized by her vivid green eyes. Still, they hadn’t helped her find the man she could spend her life with.
Almost doesn’t count,
she told herself.
In horseshoes and hand grenades, sure, but not with Danny Carson.
She winced and buried that memory yet again. Keilah was the one Joe should be looking at. Keilah was so sweet and fun to be around, but she claimed she’d never been in love. She deserved some excitement in her life. A romance would be just the thing.

But as she glanced from Joe to her younger sister, Petra could see that Keilah wasn’t thinking in that direction at all. After all, Keilah had purposely brought Joe to the shop while she was there, and had even declared she’d brought Joe to meet Petra.

Her sisters must have planned this, probably from the moment she’d called last night. They were trying to set her up with Joe Tarleton, the rumpled-but-attractive gumshoe next door.

Petra wasn’t sure she minded, which in itself amazed her. She usually bridled at matchmaking attempts, not wanting to get into another complicated relationship. Still, it had been a long time since her engagement, which began with great promise but ended so badly. Another wave of heat surged across her cheeks. She pushed her chair back.

“Well, we’d better get back to work, or you won’t be ready to open on Memorial Day.”

Joe stood. “Yeah, and I’ve got some phone calls to make.”

“Hot case?” Bethany asked.

He met the question with another heart-stopping smile. “Well, lukewarm, anyway, thanks to that message you took for me yesterday. Thanks for the food. It was a pleasure.”

His gaze met Petra’s once more, his brown eyes assessing her. It was silly, but for the first time in ages, she felt a spark. What would it be like to have someone like Joe to confide in? She wished she dared tell him about Thursday night. About Rex Harwood throttling that woman. About the awful moment when she’d slumped to the floor. About the terror that had chased Petra up here last evening, her shaking hands on the steering wheel. The bitter fear in her throat.

“Nice meeting you,” Joe said.

Petra nodded, her outward calmness surprising her. “You, too.”

They went back to work on the store, and Petra put her body on autopilot, opening cartons Keilah brought her and shelving the merchandise under Bethany’s direction. By noon nearly half the shelves were filled.

“Let’s eat out,” Petra suggested. She took Mason out for a brief walk, then she and her sisters drove to a seafood restaurant.

Keilah sipped her sugar-free iced tea. “Petra, you really should quit your job and come up here to stay with us. Bethany and I rattle around in that huge house.”

Petra smiled, but shook her head. “Do you really think the gift shop will bring in enough to support the two of you, let alone three of us?”

Bethany sat forward, her eyes bright. “We did a lot of market research and income projections. We truly believe we’re going to make it. And if we had you, everything would be perfect.”

Petra reached across the small table and squeezed her hand. “Thanks. But I think it’s a two-person operation.”

“Don’t you get lonely in Portland?” Keilah asked.

Petra nodded slowly. “Yeah, I do. I was thrilled when you two told me you were moving back to Maine. I hope we’ll see a lot of each other, but—”

“But you don’t want to give up your secure job.” Keilah nodded. “We understand.”

The waitress brought their fried clams, and they all sat back while she served them. Petra reached for her fork.

“Let’s ask the blessing,” Bethany said.

Petra quickly let go of the fork and bowed her head, hoping her sisters hadn’t noticed. She hadn’t prayed in a restaurant in years, or at home, either, until two days ago. She should have known Bethany and Keilah would never give up the habit.

Maybe it was a good thing she wasn’t moving in with them. They would soon discover how completely she had abandoned her faith. It walked out the door with Danny Carson when she was twenty-three. Ever since then, she’d told herself she was looking for truth. When she found it, she would trust a man again. As Bethany’s gentle prayer enveloped them, she wondered if she had been looking in all the wrong places.

For the remainder of the day, she put her energy into their work at the shop. Keilah and Bethany insisted they take Sunday morning off and attend the service at the church their parents had belonged to thirty years ago. For Petra, it was a futile exercise. She sat through the sermon without hearing a word. Her mind drifted back once more to the murder. It
was
a murder. Her brain would not budge on that.

But her distractedness didn’t seem to matter. Keilah’s only comment as they left the church was, “I sure wish Mr. Hiland was still here.”

“It’s not the same,” Bethany agreed. They got into the car and she took out her day planner and read off a list of merchandise that was yet to be delivered to the store.

“I want to hang those stained-glass pieces this afternoon,” Keilah said.

Bethany nodded. “Did you bring the roll of wire?”

Keilah winced. “I left it home. It’s on the hall table, where I put it so I wouldn’t forget.”

“Why don’t I go get it?” Petra asked. “I’ll take Mason out, get the wire, and make some sandwiches for us to eat at the store.”

Forty minutes later, Petra drove down the deserted main street. Sunday afternoon appeared to be dead time in Waterville, with all the businesses closed. She turned onto the side street and parked beside Bethany’s car. She was surprised to see a black sedan parked nearby. Joe Tarleton, perhaps? Maybe he was in his office, doing paperwork.

She reached for the cooler that held the sandwiches and soft drinks, then drew back her hand. It couldn’t hurt to ask his opinion. It couldn’t be worse than what the policeman had said.

She glanced at the gift shop. Bethany and Keilah could wait another ten minutes. Her knees wobbled a little as she got out of the car, but she drew a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. Did you knock on a private detective’s door, or was it like a doctor’s office, where you walked in and announced yourself? Maybe he wasn’t even here.

She tried the latch and the door swung open.

“Well, hello.” Joe smiled and rose from behind a sturdy maple desk at the far end of the room. “Welcome to my humble establishment.”

Petra tried to smile back, but it was more of a crooked grin. She glanced around the bare office. Two desks, a couple of file cabinets, some extra chairs and a coffeepot. That was about it. She faced him, determined to get this over with.