Authors: Tymber Dalton
Tags: #Romance
* * * *
Nevvie managed to talk Clay out of a second drink and got him sent to bed. She gave up trying to get Peggy to do the same. Peggy sat on the couch, nestled against Andrew while they watched one late-night talk show after another.
Laurie busied herself helping Nevvie fold laundry and doing other chores. When Nevvie spotted headlights in the driveway a little before two o’clock in the morning, she let out a sigh of relief.
She practically ran out the door to tackle Tom when he stepped out of the passenger side of Tyler’s car. “Hey, mister.”
He buried his face in her hair. “Hi, baby girl.”
“And he didn’t kill me, love.”
She smiled across the roof of the car at Tyler. “I’ll get to you in a minute.” She palmed Tom’s cheek and made him look her in the eye. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “Just tired and glad to be home.” He paused. “Well, you know what I mean.”
“Home,” she said.
Laurie gave her mom a hug when she got her car parked. “We can unload in the morning,” Kelly said. “I need sleep more than anything.”
“Agreed,” Tyler said, walking around the car to give Nevvie a hug and a kiss.
“Is Momma still up?” Tom asked.
“Yeah.” Nevvie slipped her arm around Tom’s waist and walked with him. “She wanted to see you when you got here.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s holding up.”
In the living room, Peggy stood at Tom’s entrance. He rushed over to her and engulfed her in a hug.
Nevvie looked at Tyler and tipped her head toward the kitchen. He caught her meaning and followed her. There, he gave her another hug and kiss, holding her tightly.
She rested her head against his shoulder and felt her tears start again. “I was so worried about you guys.”
“Shh, it’s all right, love. We’re here now. Let go.”
She hadn’t meant to cry, had meant to keep it together, but the sudden relief of knowing she didn’t have to go it alone any longer overwhelmed her.
Eventually, Nevvie managed to pull herself together. She washed her face at the kitchen sink. “Did you guys eat?”
“We’re fine, love. I just want to go to bed.”
“That makes two of us,” Tom said from the doorway. He looked haggard, his eyes red and puffy. “Momma and Dad just went to bed.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “Andrew, I mean,” he said. Then he let out a sigh. “I don’t know what I mean. I’m so damned tired.”
Nevvie hugged him again. “Let’s go to bed.”
Despite her heart aching for Tom, it felt damned good to once again be sandwiched between her men in bed. She spooned with Tom, his arms wrapped around her from behind and his face pressed against the back of her neck. Tyler cuddled in close in front of her, his fingers laced through hers.
Harley, not wanting to be left out, settled in at the bottom of the bed between Nevvie and Tyler.
Like that, Nevvie had the best night’s sleep she’d had in over a week.
Alex looked himself over in the mirror of the darkened bathroom. The house, obviously a bank foreclosure from the sticker on the door and lack of yard upkeep, was vacant and had no electricity. At least it was shelter from the rain and a safe temporary hideout. He’d found it ridiculously easy to jimmy the rear sliding glass door to get in, and it was only a few streets over from Emily’s house. He’d left his stuff there when he went to pay Emily a visit, and it was where he returned after killing her.
“Fuckin’ bitch,” he grumbled as he studied the furrows gouged in his cheek by her nails.
He didn’t know why the water worked in the house, but he wasn’t questioning it. He splashed some on his face to rinse the blood off. He’d gotten nothing out of her except satisfaction as he slammed his fist into her face repeatedly until she’d stopped breathing. He hadn’t planned on killing her, just finding out where that fucking cunt Nevaeh was, but the bitch had damn near taken his eye out.
Damn sure won’t let shit like that go unpunished.
At least he’d gotten nearly eighty dollars out of her purse. He didn’t bother with her credit cards. They’d be too easy to track and maybe get him caught on a surveillance camera. He’d also taken some food from her fridge, cold cuts and a loaf of bread, that he ate at his hideout.
He grabbed a quick, albeit cold, shower using the stuff he’d taken with him from the hurricane shelter.
When he finished, he dressed and went into the living room and sat by the back sliders where light spilled in from a security lamp near the back fence. He held up the address book into the shaft of light so he could see. He’d try April Kinsey next. When he’d finally arrived in town on Saturday, he picked Emily because she lived the closest to the library where he’d used computers to look up where everyone lived. He wanted to get her sooner than that, but she’d had a damn open house going on and wasn’t alone until the real estate agent left.
There was also a Karen and a Peggy he could go after if this April woman couldn’t or wouldn’t give him any information.
Although he suspected after what he’d just done, he might need to wait a few days to catch any of them alone.
He spent the night on the living room floor. It wasn’t the greatest bed, but dry carpet with a roof over his head beat mud any day.
The next morning, he cautiously watched the neighboring houses through the window blinds. At the house next door, he watched a woman dressed for an office job buckle a baby into a car seat and leave. A little while later, a man, also dressed professionally, left.
When Alex looked in the backyard, he found a gate leading to an open space between the houses, where another gate led to the neighbors’ backyard.
Taking a chance, and not seeing anyone around, he knocked on the front door twice. After not getting an answer, he went into the backyard.
He smiled. The house looked identical to the one he was staying in. After pulling his sleeves down over his hands to keep his fingerprints hidden, he tried the sliders. Locked, but it was just as easy to push up and sideways on the door and jimmy it free.
Inside, he readjusted the door on the track and unlocked it before closing it behind him.
The house felt empty, despite the signs of a family. No pets, no one left behind.
He saw a pair of dish gloves draped over the edge of the kitchen sink and put them on. He rummaged through their fridge, found himself some food, and quickly ate it.
That need met, he walked the house. No guns that he could find, but he got several dollars worth of change from a bowl on the owners’ dresser, as well as eight dollars in bills.
He wondered if anyone had found Emily’s body yet.
After spending an hour there, he’d also added a flashlight, a pocket knife, and a small battery-operated FM radio to his stash. He needed to travel light. Cash, weapons, food. He had no use for a computer or large electronics like a TV that he’d have to lug around. Couldn’t pawn anything, because they’d ask for ID and get him on camera.
Once he finally tracked Nevvie down and exacted his revenge, he’d head out for Slidell. No one would find him once he got home to Louisiana. He had family and friends all up and down the state who’d hide him.
After putting the gloves back on the sink, he looked around. It didn’t look like anyone had been there, and what little he took hopefully wouldn’t raise any suspicions. He went back out the sliders, making sure they were locked behind him.
* * * *
He risked a walk down to a convenience store for some food that evening. He watched and waited until four other customers had entered the store so he wouldn’t stand out as much.
His GED wasn’t the only education he’d had while in prison. He’d gotten a great education from fellow inmates on how to act to not get caught.
The next morning, he stole the newspaper from the driveway of a house three doors away. They had two newspapers lying in the drive already, so they probably weren’t home.
He’d wait to case that house. He was more interested in the story on the front page.
Back in his hideout, he spread the paper on the kitchen counter and read. He’d heard radio reports yesterday about the killing, but here it was in black and white.
As he read, he didn’t learn anything other than what he already knew.
Then, he grinned. “Family spokesperson Nevaeh Kinsey-Paulson, huh?” He let out a laugh. “More like family breeder cunt.” But he was on the right path. He’d find out where she was hiding and when he did, she’d fucking wish she’d never been born.
Early Friday morning, Nevvie stared out the kitchen window. She wished the rain would just stop for a day. Today, at least. The cliché was enough to set her nerves on edge and make her want to scream. She listened to it gently pattering on the roof off and on all night as sleep mostly eluded her despite Tom and Tyler’s comforting presence.
The few times she did manage to drift off, she was haunted by dreams of the afternoon Alex nearly killed her in their kitchen. Wednesday and Thursday had been a blur of visitors and funeral preparations. Having Kelly and Tyler there meant Nevvie could step back and focus on Tom and Peggy and comforting them and the other sisters.
At dawn, she’d carefully climbed out of bed without waking either man and made her way to the kitchen. Andrew had already beaten her there, of course, and was just starting a pot of coffee.
He managed a wan smile. “Good morning, love.” He kissed her cheek. “Did you get any sleep last night?”
She stared out the window at the mushy yard, which looked even more depressing in the early purple light. “Not much. How’s Mom?”
“She’s trying to be very brave for the children, but this has truly crushed her, I fear. How fares Tom?”
She shook her head. “Not much better.” She leaned against the counter and dropped her voice to ensure no one could hear her but Andrew. “Does it make me a horrible person to not feel much more than wanting this bullshit over with? I mean I’m not glad she’s dead, but if it was up to me, there wouldn’t be a funeral. I don’t even want to go. I’m only going to support everyone else.”
“No, you are not a horrible person. I daresay it makes you human. Funerals are for the living. Let’s be honest about it. The deceased surely don’t give a rat’s arse, as you’d say.”
Nevvie snorted. “Yeah. If Emily did, she’d be spinning in her coffin that Mom’s preacher is leading the service at her church. Seriously, what kind of eulogy do you give someone like her? ‘She didn’t boil puppies or put razors in Halloween candy. She was a closed-minded bigot, but she wasn’t in the Ku Klux Klan.’ I mean, come on. It’s really hard to say nice things about someone who spouted so much hate for others.”
He sighed. “It’s something Peggy herself wrestled with yesterday. She confided in Reverend Mitchell about what Emily had done, both to you and how she’d estranged herself from her own children. She did, however, do some good in her life when the entirety of her deeds are considered. Sadly, it took her death to bring her family even closer together. The lesson to be learned, I suspect, is that we should examine our family bonds now and work to strengthen and renew them before it’s too late.”
Nevvie chewed that over as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “I can live with that. It’s not hypocritical. It’s not blasting Emily. And most important, it’s not guilting the rest of us for not trying harder or some bullshit like that.” She sipped her coffee. “Mom’s not letting anyone get up and speak at the service, is she?”
“No. She fears some of Emily’s church friends might try to turn it into a soapbox.” He frowned. “I thought perhaps Elle had exaggerated somewhat when telling us about Emily’s church friends. I fear she didn’t paint an accurate picture of how filled with hate some of those members truly are. The preacher and associates we met with yesterday were”—he paused, obviously trying to find the right word—“unique.”
Nevvie could only imagine how unique they were. “They made Dolores look sane?”
“Ah!” He pointed at her. “That’s a very apt way of stating it. It’s certainly more polite than how Peggy stated it yesterday.”
“How’d she state it?”
“I said they were a bunch of stuck-up assholes who’d better not think about opening their damn yaps at the service,” Peggy grumbled as she walked into the kitchen.
An involuntary snort of laughter escaped Nevvie. “Mom! I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear like that.”
Peggy stepped into Andrew’s arms for a hug. “That was tame,” Andrew said, “compared to what she said once we were alone.” He kissed the top of Peggy’s head. “Coffee, love?”
“Yes, please.” She and Nevvie sat at the table. “I just want this over with. Thank you,” she said to Andrew when he brought her cup of coffee to her. Her eyes looked red and puffy, but her body language and expression currently screamed her resignation over the process. “I wouldn’t be having a service at all if it was completely up to me. But the twins still want to have a funeral for her.”
“I know this is a tacky question, but who gets her house now that she’s dead?” Nevvie asked.
“The twins. Emily had a new will drawn up after the divorce. That pompous little bastard yesterday tried to tell me Emily had promised the house to his church. I told him unless he had it in writing, he could shove the idea up his fucking ass.” She sipped her coffee.