Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes
Page 75
“Hey!” I called, thoroughly irritated. “Are you going to clean up that mess?”
They looked at me as though I’d just asked them to scrub my toilet.
Deanna took me inside the kitchen and reamed me up and down. She told me if I ever again dealt with the police without her present, she would drop me in an instant.
She left, the police left, then finally the straggling crowd left. But Joe still hadn’t returned. And neither had Muffy.
It was now eight o’clock and I still didn't know what was supposed to be on the flash drive. And even if I could fudge it, I didn't have access to a computer. Could I go and convince them to leave Violet alone if I showed up with nothing? I had no doubt I’d be dead, but that would be okay if they left Violet alone.
I heard a knock on the kitchen door and it swung open before I could answer. Joe entered without Muffy, looking devastated. All the fury and fear came roaring out and I attacked him, pounding his chest with my fists.
“I hate you! I hate you, Joe McAllister! You set me up to be arrested and because of you, Muffy’s lost and I’ll never see her again. You used me! You and Hilary must have had fun laughing at poor, stupid Rose. You never even liked me! You just used me to get that stupid flash drive and I don't even know what’s on it! Now because of you, I’m gonna die and I don't have time to save Violet. I hate you!”
He let me hit him at first, but he grabbed my fists and held them to his chest when I mentioned dying. I’d said too much.
“Whoa, slow down. What do you mean you don't know what’s on the flash drive? Where is it?”
“It’s there in that Walmart bag.”
He let go of me to tear into the Walmart bag next to my purse. “Rose,” he said, his voice rising in panic. “This hasn’t even been opened!”
“I know!”
“If you don’t have a computer, how are you going to put the information on it? Where’s the real flash drive?” He tossed the package onto the table.
“I don’t know!” I screamed.
“Did someone steal it in one of the break-ins?”
“I never had it! I didn’t even know anything about a stupid flash drive until the night of Sloan’s visitation when Daniel Crocker found me and dragged me down the hall, telling me if I didn’t deliver it tonight at ten, I was gonna be sorry.”
Joe sat in the kitchen chair, his face white. “Oh, my God.”
“Get out!”
He looked up, startled.
“Get out of my house!” I screamed, hysterical. “Get out!”
He stood up and I pushed him toward the door. He may have been bigger than me, but I was lucky to have caught him in a moment of shock. He stumbled backward.
“Rose, I can help you.”
“Help me? HELP ME?” I screamed like a banshee and I had no doubt the neighbors could hear me, but I didn't care. “You mean help me like planting a gun in my shed? And callin’ the police with an anonymous tip so I’d get arrested for murderin’ Sloan? Then getting’ my dog lost! You mean that kind of help? Because no freakin’ thanks! I don't need your help!” I shoved and beat him with my fists. “Get out! GET OUT! Get out of my life!”
He stumbled out the door but recovered before he fell. “Rose, let me explain.”
“Explain to this!” I slammed the door shut so hard the wall shook. I locked both locks. Joe pounded on the door shouting my name, but I went into the bathroom and washed my face. I had less than an hour to come up with some kind of plan to save my life.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I made myself get a grip. I couldn't show up to met Daniel with a red nose and bloodshot, puffy eyes. Plus, I suspected sex was a way to communicate with Daniel Crocker and I was desperate enough to pull that out of my limited arsenal and use it to save Violet. Nevertheless, I had to look the part to play it.
Clothing proved an issue. If Daniel hadn’t seen me in the red dress, and I if hadn’t got snot and tears all over the front, I would have worn it. Instead I found a pair of jeans and a silky sleeveless shirt and wore my black bra, which peeked out over the top of the low-cut shirt. I decided this would work better in The Trading Post, which was a bar with a rough reputation just outside the city limits.
Torn between heels and sensible shoes, I chose heels. I had little chance of outrunning anyone, but perhaps looking sexy could help me. Heavens knew I needed all the help I could get.
I opened the flash drive package with shaky fingers and tucked it in my jeans pocket. I was fairly certain they were going to check it and I hadn’t figured out how to explain why it was empty.
I gave myself on last look in the mirror, surprised by the image. Maybe I could pull this off.
I went out into the kitchen to call a cab. I’d take a taxi to my car, which was still parked at the funeral home, but it required extra time. While I waited for it to show up, I went outside to look for Muffy, walking up and down the sidewalk and calling her name. I worried Joe would hear me and come out but, he didn’t, even though I saw him watching out his living room window. I checked the time on my cell phone—nine thirty-five. I still had time but my nervousness threatened to swallow me whole. I locked the door and waited for the taxi in the driveway, pacing.
Five minutes later, Joe came outside, easing his way over to me as though I was a wild animal and might bolt if he got too close. “Rose?”
“Leave me alone,” I growled, looking down the street with my side to him.
They looked at me as though I’d just asked them to scrub my toilet.
Deanna took me inside the kitchen and reamed me up and down. She told me if I ever again dealt with the police without her present, she would drop me in an instant.
She left, the police left, then finally the straggling crowd left. But Joe still hadn’t returned. And neither had Muffy.
It was now eight o’clock and I still didn't know what was supposed to be on the flash drive. And even if I could fudge it, I didn't have access to a computer. Could I go and convince them to leave Violet alone if I showed up with nothing? I had no doubt I’d be dead, but that would be okay if they left Violet alone.
I heard a knock on the kitchen door and it swung open before I could answer. Joe entered without Muffy, looking devastated. All the fury and fear came roaring out and I attacked him, pounding his chest with my fists.
“I hate you! I hate you, Joe McAllister! You set me up to be arrested and because of you, Muffy’s lost and I’ll never see her again. You used me! You and Hilary must have had fun laughing at poor, stupid Rose. You never even liked me! You just used me to get that stupid flash drive and I don't even know what’s on it! Now because of you, I’m gonna die and I don't have time to save Violet. I hate you!”
He let me hit him at first, but he grabbed my fists and held them to his chest when I mentioned dying. I’d said too much.
“Whoa, slow down. What do you mean you don't know what’s on the flash drive? Where is it?”
“It’s there in that Walmart bag.”
He let go of me to tear into the Walmart bag next to my purse. “Rose,” he said, his voice rising in panic. “This hasn’t even been opened!”
“I know!”
“If you don’t have a computer, how are you going to put the information on it? Where’s the real flash drive?” He tossed the package onto the table.
“I don’t know!” I screamed.
“Did someone steal it in one of the break-ins?”
“I never had it! I didn’t even know anything about a stupid flash drive until the night of Sloan’s visitation when Daniel Crocker found me and dragged me down the hall, telling me if I didn’t deliver it tonight at ten, I was gonna be sorry.”
Joe sat in the kitchen chair, his face white. “Oh, my God.”
“Get out!”
He looked up, startled.
“Get out of my house!” I screamed, hysterical. “Get out!”
He stood up and I pushed him toward the door. He may have been bigger than me, but I was lucky to have caught him in a moment of shock. He stumbled backward.
“Rose, I can help you.”
“Help me? HELP ME?” I screamed like a banshee and I had no doubt the neighbors could hear me, but I didn't care. “You mean help me like planting a gun in my shed? And callin’ the police with an anonymous tip so I’d get arrested for murderin’ Sloan? Then getting’ my dog lost! You mean that kind of help? Because no freakin’ thanks! I don't need your help!” I shoved and beat him with my fists. “Get out! GET OUT! Get out of my life!”
He stumbled out the door but recovered before he fell. “Rose, let me explain.”
“Explain to this!” I slammed the door shut so hard the wall shook. I locked both locks. Joe pounded on the door shouting my name, but I went into the bathroom and washed my face. I had less than an hour to come up with some kind of plan to save my life.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I made myself get a grip. I couldn't show up to met Daniel with a red nose and bloodshot, puffy eyes. Plus, I suspected sex was a way to communicate with Daniel Crocker and I was desperate enough to pull that out of my limited arsenal and use it to save Violet. Nevertheless, I had to look the part to play it.
Clothing proved an issue. If Daniel hadn’t seen me in the red dress, and I if hadn’t got snot and tears all over the front, I would have worn it. Instead I found a pair of jeans and a silky sleeveless shirt and wore my black bra, which peeked out over the top of the low-cut shirt. I decided this would work better in The Trading Post, which was a bar with a rough reputation just outside the city limits.
Torn between heels and sensible shoes, I chose heels. I had little chance of outrunning anyone, but perhaps looking sexy could help me. Heavens knew I needed all the help I could get.
I opened the flash drive package with shaky fingers and tucked it in my jeans pocket. I was fairly certain they were going to check it and I hadn’t figured out how to explain why it was empty.
I gave myself on last look in the mirror, surprised by the image. Maybe I could pull this off.
I went out into the kitchen to call a cab. I’d take a taxi to my car, which was still parked at the funeral home, but it required extra time. While I waited for it to show up, I went outside to look for Muffy, walking up and down the sidewalk and calling her name. I worried Joe would hear me and come out but, he didn’t, even though I saw him watching out his living room window. I checked the time on my cell phone—nine thirty-five. I still had time but my nervousness threatened to swallow me whole. I locked the door and waited for the taxi in the driveway, pacing.
Five minutes later, Joe came outside, easing his way over to me as though I was a wild animal and might bolt if he got too close. “Rose?”
“Leave me alone,” I growled, looking down the street with my side to him.
