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Thirty and a Half Excuses

Page 20

   


“What’s going on?” Heidi Joy asked.
I looked back at the house, surprised to notice that Thomas was looking at me with interest.
“Someone tried to break into Miss Dorothy’s house tonight. Muffy must have seen or heard something, because she pulled her leash out of my hand and went back there to confront the intruder.”
Miss Mildred shot me a look of contempt. “I’ll be notifying Animal Control first thing tomorrow morning about your dog running around loose.”
I rolled my eyes. “I just gave Detective Taylor and the assistant DA an admission of guilt to that very charge. Don’t you think calling the dog catcher is overkill?”
Miss Opal tsked, shaking her head. “Good heavens, Mildred. Don’t ya think we’ve got more important things to worry about?”
Mildred scowled but remained silent.
“What do you think they were after, Rose?” Heidi Joy asked, clutching the edges of her robe to her chest.
“I don’t know. But I’m sure the police will get to the bottom of it.” I didn’t ordinarily have much faith in them, but maybe they’d get things done with Mason riding their behinds.
I didn’t feel like standing outside with the crowd, so I went home and checked Muffy out again, just to make sure she wasn’t hurt, and then put on my pajamas. I was still wound up from the excitement, so I turned on the television. Hopefully it would help me forget about my strange day. I’d just started to get drowsy when Mason knocked on my door. “Rose, are you still up?”
Cracking the door open, I stayed inside. I’d stirred up Miss Mildred enough tonight without going out in my nightgown.
His face appeared in the opening. “Did you happen to lose a piece of jewelry when the thief knocked you down?”
My eyes widened. “No. I never wear jewelry.” The only pieces I owned were the diamond engagement ring my birth mother had left me, a few pieces of costume jewelry, and the crucifix necklace Aunt Bessie had given me when I was baptized in the sixth grade.
“Okay, just checking. We found a piece out in the grass, a necklace with a St. Jude’s medal with something engraved on the back, and wondered if it was yours.”
“Do you think it belonged to the thief?”
Mason shrugged. “Maybe. Or it could have been in the yard for a while, although it doesn’t look weathered. Detective Taylor thinks that it was recently dropped.”
I didn’t trust Detective Taylor to investigate himself out of a paper bag. “Do you agree with him?”
“Yeah. I do.” He shifted his weight, looking over his shoulder at her house before turning back to me. “Are you okay? Do you feel safe? I can have Taylor assign a patrol car to keep an eye on your house and the neighborhood. Do some drive-bys tonight.”
I was sure the Henryetta police would love that. “Nah. I’ve got Muffy as my guard dog. Besides, you’re probably right. I’m sure it was just a random intruder.”
“If anything else happens or you feel unsafe, promise me you’ll call 911 first. They can get to you before I can.”
I smirked. “Not tonight.”
“You’re lucky I was still working.”
“You work too much.”
He laughed. “Now you sound like my mother.”
“I’m not sure if I should feel insulted or flattered.”
“Definitely flattered. My mother is an amazing woman.”
I grinned. “Then I’ll take the compliment.” I leaned against the door. “Thanks for coming tonight.”
Mason took a step closer. “You know I’m here if you need anything. I don’t mind. But the police can do more than I can. I mean it, next time call them before you call me.”
“You’re presuming there will be a next time.”
An amused grin spread across his face. “You’re suggesting there won’t be?”
I lifted a shoulder into a half-shrug. He had a point; if history kept repeating itself, there would be.
He shook his head with a chuckle. “Goodnight, Rose.”
“Goodnight, Mason.”
I watched him drive away, and then locked the door and went to get my small jewelry box from my dresser. Sitting on the bed, I lifted the lid to the white box and a tiny ballerina with a net skirt popped up. The box was more fit for a preteen than a twenty-four-year-old woman, but Daddy had given it to me for my thirteenth birthday. I’d never replaced it for two reasons: One, it was one of the only things he had ever given me outright, without Momma’s inclusion. And two, I didn’t have much of anything to put in it. My birth mother’s ring had come in a ring box which I kept tucked in my underwear drawer. Truth be told, I hadn’t opened the ring box in several months, the jewelry box in even longer.
I sorted through the pieces until I came across what I was looking for, the dainty gold chain with its filigreed gold crucifix. Aunt Bessie had made sure to tell me it was made of real 18ct gold. Momma had rarely let me wear it, telling me it wouldn’t be appropriate to wear something so gaudy every day. As a girl, it had killed me to let it sit in the box, and sometimes I’d sneak it out of the house and put it on after I got on the school bus.
Laying the chain across my palm, I studied the cross. Aunt Bessie had even had my initials engraved on the back. RAG. Lord knew I’d been teased mercilessly about that fact when the other kids in school found out. Which incidentally was when one of the mean girls in my class noticed my necklace and asked to try it on. I’d relented—anything to fit in with my classmates—but she’d taken one look at the initials and tossed it back to me with a nasty insult.