Barbara Graham - Quilted 05 - Murder by Sunlight (6 page)

Candy stood in the middle of the shop, staring. She showed the same amount of interest in the tools and toys quilters liked as she did the myriad colors of fabric, and as she did the floor. Theo thought she might actually be more interested in the faux wood-patterned flooring than in anything else in the room.

“Do you need something, Candy?” Theo spoke softly, almost tentatively. There was something so . . . so absent in Candy’s expression Theo did not want to startle her.

Candy spun around in a circle, stopping where she began. “Where’s my boy?”

“Alvin?” Theo asked automatically.

“Do I have others?” Candy’s question seemed honest, not flippant. She pressed a clenched fist to her chest and coughed.

“Not that I know of.” Theo edged closer, herding Candy out of the center of the shop and closer to the workroom. Was there someone she should call? “Are you feeling ill?”

Ignoring Theo, Candy stopped short of the doorway into the workroom. “What are they doing in there?”

Theo peeked around the taller woman. A small group of elderly women worked together on a colorful quilt stretched on an old-fashioned wooden quilting frame, stitching it by hand. “They are quilting a charity quilt. It will be raffled off to raise money.”

“Is my mother in there?”

Theo was seriously concerned now. Candy’s parents had been deceased for maybe four years. Four long emotional, traumatic years for Alvin, during which he lost his beloved grandparents, was taken from his mom, and given to foster family after foster family. He didn’t fit in. He was moved. He became an adult in a young body. Theo touched Candy’s shoulder. “No Candy, your mother passed away.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Candy gave a little laugh and seemed to relax. “I couldn’t find her.”

Theo backed up slightly and glanced around to see if anyone else was listening. From the expressions and body language she saw, everyone was listening and pretending not to. No one made eye contact with Candy. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Candy shook her head, giving her lank hair a bit of a toss. “I was just curious.” And she left the workroom, passed through the main shop, and opened the door. A second later, she was gone as mysteriously as she arrived.

Theo exchanged puzzled glances with the quilters but there was really nothing to say.

“You do remember this Friday is the Fourth of July?” Theo handed Tony another screw, which he quickly tightened into place. The final curtain rod was almost up in the girls’ room.

“I’m trying very hard to forget it.” Tony stepped down from the ladder. “Two more screws on the other side, and we can hang those curtains.”

Theo’s smile was brilliant but she continued on her topic. “The quilt show is always held during the celebration for the Fourth. Can you help us hang quilts on Thursday?”

“As far as I know. What time?” Only half listening to what she told him, Tony focused on the screws. He knew he could depend on Theo to remind him several times before the event. Hanging quilts in their show was not his favorite job or, for that matter, his least favorite. He was part of a small, well-trained crew, mostly husbands, who know how to erect the display system consisting of poles, guy wires, and electrical conduit. The quilters owned the poles but borrowed the conduit from Duke McMahon’s hardware store, which helped the ladies and gave Duke free advertising.

Once the big quilts were hung, most of the smaller ones would hang on some collapsible frames. He’d make his escape as soon as the big quilts were up and assumed he’d be as surprised as usual to see it in its much improved final state. He thoroughly enjoyed the quilt show. It wasn’t the time and work involved in helping hang it that bothered him, it was his fear he’d accidently ruin a quilt. An action both awkward and unforgivable.

He tightened the last screw. “Ta-da! Grab those curtains you worked so hard on and let’s see how the room looks.”

Obligingly, Theo vanished. She returned less than a minute later, her arms filled with white curtains dotted with vivid colored bunnies, butterflies, and caterpillars.

He grasped the rod, sliding one end into the space for it, just below the top edge of the curtains. “Wow, these are heavy.”

“That’s the blackout fabric lining. It weighs a ton, but without it, this room will light up like a runway the second the sun climbs over the mountains.”

Tony immediately realized Theo was right. The twins’ current room was small as a closet and only marginally brighter than one. Moving them into an airy, sunlit space would require some adjustment for all of the family. He lifted the curtain-covered rod into place and the sunny room vanished, replaced with, if not total darkness, something close.

Theo pushed the curtains apart, bringing in the light again, and attached the tie backs. “We have some pictures to hang on the walls.”

“And the rugs you bought. And the cribs to move.” Tony, once again, but surely not for the last time, silently thanked his brother Gus for giving them this room. Theo’s excitement made her green-gold eyes sparkle as she walked across the shining wood-grained laminate floor. “There’s even room for your old rocking chair.”

Theo smiled and nodded but couldn’t seem to speak.

With little encouragement from him, she dashed off to gather the rest of the room’s décor. He, no less excited than Theo, forced himself to leisurely approach the moving of the cribs. In just a few minutes, Kara and Lizzie would get to move into their space and spread out.

“Sheriff, you’re not going to like this.”

Tony imagined the statement would be true, just from dispatcher Flavio Weems’s tone of voice. Tony felt a surge of adrenalin and stomach acid at the same time and poured a handful of antacids from the large jar under his desk and dropped most of them into his shirt pocket. He popped the two in his hand into his mouth and started chewing. “What’s happening?”

Flavio flipped a switch to let Tony listen in. “It’s Sheila. She’s looking into a nine-one-one call. Man called about an intruder who attacked him in the shower. Hit him with a wrench or something. She got a little description and gave it to me.”

“Ambulance needed. I can’t leave him. Backup needed. Now.” Sheila’s voice was clear and concise. “I have no idea where the attacker is now. I can’t reach my weapon and hold this guy. I have to stop the bleeding or we’ll lose him.”

Tony could hear Sheila trying to calm a man. The sounds were something he’d imagine if two people were trapped in a box with a bear. Growling. Moaning.

Tony said to Flavio, “Tell Sheila I’m on my way too.” Tony hurried through the hall, raced outside, climbed into the Blazer, flipped on the light bar, and headed out. The address Sheila had given was just past the intersection where Ruby’s Café and the Thomas Brothers Garage sat. It was a major intersection of the highway and the road connecting downtown Silersville to a less-populated residential area. It was possibly the busiest section of road in the entire county. He listened to the radio.

Sheila’s voice. “Stay still. You’re about to faint. I need to hold this pressed against your wound.” Then sounds like a bull thrashing in a stall drowned out Sheila’s words.

Tony kept the volume up on the radio and heard bits of the conversation between Sheila and the victim. A man’s voice, barely a whisper. “Bob, he kept calling me. Bob. And he said he knew I was there, like we were on a different planet.”

“People call you Bob?” Sheila’s voice was muffled.

“No. Not Bob, and none of my neighbors is named Bob either.” The voice sounded much weaker than it had.

“We need that ambulance.” Sheila spoke clearly. “He’s out cold now and losing ground fast. So much blood.”

“It’s on the way. They say five minutes.” Flavio knew every deputy’s location and what they were doing. “Mike’s almost there too.”

Tony hoped help would get to the injured man and Sheila in time. He pressed the accelerator a bit more.

Tony heard Flavio talking to Mike. Then there was quiet as Flavio listened to Sheila and relayed the information to everyone on the system, speaking clearly and calmly. “In the neighborhood of the highway and Ruby’s Café, be on the lookout for a white male, five foot six, one hundred and forty pounds, thirtyish, close-cropped black hair, last seen wearing a dirty white muscle shirt and jeans. Carrying a claw hammer and a pipe wrench, neither one new, blood on the shirt. On foot when last seen.”

Tony watched Mike make the turn ahead of him, his vehicle almost airborne, flying up the road to the next turn and then stopping. Mike jumped out of his vehicle, spotted Tony, and signaled he was going to the back of the property. The ambulance arrived next. Tony held back, staying behind them, and parked just before the ambulance crew headed toward the house. Tony was careful to park well out of its way. He hoped it would leave as quickly as it arrived, with a living patient.

Hurrying out of the Blazer, Tony glanced around, studying the area, hoping to see a medium-sized man in a white t-shirt. All he saw was a quiet neighborhood. Houses, fenced yards, and assorted vehicles. Lots of shrubbery and tall grass. Nothing moving. A couple of dogs barked, but not like they were frantic, guarding homes from strangers. On the radio, Mike told everyone what he could see from the back of the property, which didn’t take long. Nothing appeared out of place.

Now running to get ahead of the paramedics, Tony gestured for them to wait for his signal before going into the house.

He moved inside, keeping his heavy semi-automatic raised. He quickly searched for the intruder and found no one. Inside the kitchen, Sheila knelt next to a large, naked man stretched out on the floor. Blood was everywhere, including on Sheila. She pressed a wadded-up piece of fabric, maybe a t-shirt, against the man’s neck. Her hands and arms were covered with blood. She didn’t look up as she talked. “Sheriff, I’d have chased the attacker, but couldn’t leave this guy and risk he’d bleed out.”

Thinking she’d done the right thing, Tony stepped out of the way, signaling the ambulance crew inside. They quickly freed Sheila from her life-saving job. Information from Mike was negative. “We’ll have to go house to house.”

Sheila stepped over to the kitchen sink and scrubbed the blood from her hands with dish soap before she followed Tony outside.

“What happened?” Tony kept his gaze moving, checking for the attacker.

“Poor guy. From what I could understand, he was in the bathroom, taking a shower, you know, when some guy he’s never seen before breaks in and starts whacking him with this old pipe wrench and claw hammer. I guess the attacker kept calling him Bob. It’s like something out of a movie. All I could get from our victim was that he’s Not Bob. Not Bob’s got at least one good-sized gash on his head above his ear and a broken cheekbone, but most of the blood was coming from his neck. About here.” She touched a place near her windpipe. “Luckily, he made it to the kitchen and got his cell phone.”

“You got a pretty good description.”

“Maybe.” Sheila looked uncertain. “He was all but unconscious when I arrived. I couldn’t even get his name from him so I’m not sure how much this guy really saw, and how much he made up to fill in the blanks, you know.”

“What do you think he saw?”

“I’ll bet he saw the white shirt, the jeans, and maybe dark hair.” Sheila shrugged. “Maybe he saw everything he reported. He is a big guy and he was standing up when the attack began, but I’m guessing he got hit several times when he tried to dodge away from the wrench. He was blindsided.”

Tony agreed with Sheila. Often people didn’t see as much as they thought they did or vice versa; not until everyone calmed down were they able to reconstruct events. “Motive?”

“He said the man was screaming at Bob about payback for his wife,” Sheila said. “Our guy’s in shock but I’ve seen him around, usually hanging out at The Okay, or when he’s at work. He seems nice enough. Not rich, not mean, not married. Just a guy minding his own business when some whack-job comes into his house and attacks him.”

“And his work?” Tony couldn’t place him.

“You’ll recognize him when you get a chance to really look at him. He works for the county in road maintenance. He’s usually shoveling asphalt into potholes when I’m driving through the county.” Sheila did smile then. “He wears a battered straw cowboy hat.”

“That’s why he looked familiar.” Tony shook his head. “What a mess. We better find the guy who attacked him before he finds another Bob.”

Wade arrived and they divided the street in half. Wade and Tony would work on one side and Mike and Sheila on the other. They’d have to knock on each door and talk to anyone at home, look in every shed, under every tarp, and still watch for suspicious movements. “Sheila, I know you can’t do anything about your clothes, but you might want to see if you can get some more of that blood off your arms. Your hands are clean now but you look like you’ve been swimming in it.” He frowned, thinking of all the blood-borne diseases she could have been exposed to. “It’s on your face too.”

“I’ve got some heavy-duty antiseptic towelettes.” She walked toward her car. “One second.”

So the work began. They spent hours taking pictures, talking to the few people who answered their doors, lifting trash-can lids, checking every possible hiding place. No one they talked to saw anything or noticed anything special until the arrival of Sheila’s car caught their attention. Then they watched from the windows, curious about the reason for the deputy to stop. No strangers, nothing.

They learned Not Bob was actually named Will Jackson and the neighbors thought he was a quiet, but friendly, addition to the neighborhood. He’d lived in the house for about a year.

By the time Sheila and Mike were almost finished searching their side of the street, Tony walked toward them to compare notes. Sheila was beyond filthy. Dirt mixed with blood coated almost every inch of her. “You looked better when we arrived.”

“It can’t get worse.” She muttered but changed her story when she crawled under a house on a raised foundation. Holding a flashlight and gun didn’t allow her a way to cover her nose or mouth. She needed the flashlight and might need the gun.