Two Widows: A totally gripping mystery and suspense novel Page 6

  “Yes. There she is.” I led Beth over to the desk to make the introduction. A cold sweat prickled my upper lip as we approached. I hadn’t known Amanda well. Not at all, really. But it was too late to turn back.

  Amanda’s eyes met mine, their blueness reminding me of the sparkling bay outside. “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Yes, uh…” I said, freezing up. She didn’t recognize me. “I’m Gloria. You used to rent an apartment from me.”

  “Oh.” Amanda stepped back and put her hands to her face. She shook her head and sighed. “Hi, Gloria. I thought you looked familiar. Sometimes I don’t know where my head is.”

  My heartbeat returned to a normal pace. “That’s fine, dear. I know this is a surprise visit.”

  “Is this your daughter?”

  “Oh, no.” My cheeks blushed and I couldn’t help but feel flattered someone would think Beth was my daughter. I turned toward Beth, remembering the reason for this whole encounter. “This is my friend, Beth. She’s renting some land from me for the summer. She’s writing a piece on The Tidewater for American Traveler magazine.”

  Beth stepped forward and held out her hand. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

  The two women joined hands in a brief handshake.

  “I told Beth you worked here and might be willing to give her some information.”

  “I don’t want to bother you while you’re trying to work,” Beth said. “But if you have time later, or another day, I’d really appreciate it.”

  “Yeah, sure. I can do that.” Amanda puffed out her chest. “Or if you’d rather talk to the manager—”

  Beth glanced toward the front desk. “Oh, thanks. I’ll probably speak to the manager at some point, too, but I want a different perspective. Not just on this place, but on all the local hangouts.”

  “Okay. Yeah.” Amanda nodded along. “I work until eight tonight. Or tomorrow I have the day off.”

  “Can I treat you to lunch tomorrow?” Beth asked. “It doesn’t have to be here. Maybe another favorite spot?”

  Amanda shrugged. “Sure. How about Barney’s? It’s a total dive, but they have great fish tacos.”

  “Perfect.” Beth leaned toward Amanda and lowered her voice. “That’s the kind of information I can’t get from a boring manager.”

  Amanda and I chuckled.

  “I’ll meet you there at noon?” Beth asked.

  “Yeah. Sounds good.” Amanda pulled out her phone and typed the information into it. Then they exchanged numbers in case of any last-minute cancellations.

  “Well, I’m glad I got to introduce you.” I took a step forward and the two young women nodded in agreement. The introduction had gone wonderfully. They were about the same age. Maybe they’d even become friends. I’d done my good deed for the day. “I’m afraid I have to get going. There’s a man interested in renting my apartment and I need to get it ready.”

  “It was a nice apartment. I’m sure it’ll go fast.” Amanda smiled. “Good to see you again, Gloria.”

  “You too.” I turned and walked toward the front door of the lobby, Beth by my side. A man held open the door for us and we stepped into the sunlight, a brisk wind blowing off the bay.

  “That went well,” Beth said after we were out of Amanda’s earshot.

  “I’m delighted.” The ache in my back began to ease. I’d been isolated for so long that I’d almost forgotten how rewarding it was to help people. It had been months since I’d last volunteered at the food bank in the basement of the church, or planted flowers as part of First Lutheran’s beautification team. I’d just been getting acquainted with that nice couple, the Janssons, when Mary Ellen Calloway had left my name off the committee list. I’d hung onto Sunday services a couple of months longer, but stopped going to those, too, after I’d found myself sitting alone on Christmas Eve. As the choir sang carols of love and joy, my solitary status had been magnified by Mary Ellen Calloway’s laughter two rows ahead. I’d tried not to stare in envy as four of her grandchildren piled on her lap, her husband squeezing her shoulder and chuckling along with her. In contrast, several inches of wooden pew stretched between my flabby thighs and the coats of the happy families on either side of me. I struggled to keep my eyes focused on the hymnal that weighed down my hands, but there’d been no mistaking I was all alone. I’d called Ethan the next day, desperate to reconnect. But when his voicemail beeped in my ear, my mouth had suddenly filled with cotton balls. I hung up, unable to think of the right words to say.

  “I didn’t realize you had an apartment showing today.” Beth’s voice pulled me from the distressing memory. She propped her sunglasses on top of her head, revealing her questioning eyes.

  “Someone called when you were in the bathroom. His name is Joe Miles. He’s coming by at 3 p.m.” I smiled, not wanting to make it obvious I was concerned about meeting an unknown man at my property all alone.

  Beth paused, eyeing me. “I’m going to wander around town for a while, but I’ll come back to check on you. You can never be too careful, especially with what happened.”

  “He’s an artist,” I said, supplying her with more information in case of a future police investigation. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

  “Artist or not, I’ll stop by later.”

  “Thank you. And for lunch, too.”

  Beth nodded and turned back toward The Tidewater. “See you later, Gloria.”

  My car was parked around the corner. I strolled through the sunshine, energized by the lunch. I hopped over the cracks in the sidewalk, thinking of my life since losing Charlie. I’d hidden away inside my farmhouse, inside myself. Sometimes I’d gone days without seeing or talking to another living soul. I thought of Ethan, my only child who I’d driven away. I’d been too prideful to pick up the phone and tell him I’d been wrong. Beth had only entered my life yesterday, but she had already changed me, given me a new way of looking at things. Her confidence was contagious, seeping into me in a way the self-help books never could.

  The sun slipped behind a cloud, causing the temperature to drop and goosebumps to erupt across my arms. I hurried toward my car. A shortcut down the alley appeared on my right, but I continued straight, sticking to the sidewalk. There was a killer on the loose, after all. One could never be too careful.

  Eight

  Elizabeth

  Before

  A crib would fit perfectly against the far wall. With a hand on my hip, I stared in wonder at the beige guest room, seeing its potential for the first time. This room would soon be transformed into our baby’s nursery. Natural light flowed through the windows opposite me. There’d be space for a changing table next to the closet door. I fanned out the dozens of color samples I’d collected from Lowe’s and held them up to the wall. One by one, I tossed aside the shades of gray that appeared too yellow or too purplish in the glow of the overhead light. Five or six swatches of color remained, but I couldn’t decide.

  The back door slammed shut with a familiar clatter that shook our entire house. Jason was home. He was the only one who entered the house so forcefully, the floorboards booming with every step.

  “Up here.” I turned toward the hallway so he’d hear me. I’d called him earlier to see how his meeting had gone, but he hadn’t picked up or called me back.

  Footsteps bounded up the stairs. Jason appeared in the doorway, hands behind his back, panting. A smile crept onto the corners of his mouth. “Do you know anyone who picked up two investors today? A half-million dollars each!”

  I tucked the paint samples into my pocket. “What? Did you…” I began to ask but was overcome with emotion, my throat constricting.

  “Yes! I did it!” He lunged toward me and wrapped an arm around my waist, kissing me. “I’ve raised two million dollars. I’m going to make so much money for these people, they won’t know what hit them. And guess who gets a percentage of it all?” His smile now spread wider.

  “I’m so proud of you.” His sweaty body pressed against me through his button-down sh
irt, the hard muscles in his arms twitching, and I wanted him to take me right there on the nursery floor. He stepped back from me.

  “I got you something.” He removed a Nordstrom shopping bag from behind his back.

  I hesitated, and he shoved the bag toward me. “Go ahead.”

  My hand touched it before I saw it, something soft and luxurious. The scent of leather hit me next. I lifted out a purse. Even the color was decadent, a cross between gray and taupe with navy trim. It was more sophisticated than anything I owned. The kind of bag that no other writer for The Observer had ever carried. The tiny print on the attached tag read FENDI. Jason must have spent thousands of dollars to buy it.

  “The mother of my child deserves the best.” He jumped to my side, unable to contain his boyish excitement. “It can replace your old one.”

  My cheeks flushed with a mixture of gratitude and shame. The Banana Republic purse I normally carried sat on the kitchen counter downstairs, filled with credit cards, car keys, makeup, and other odds and ends. The interior pocket was frayed and the black fabric had lost its luster, but I’d never thought other people would notice. Especially Jason.

  I was a failure at keeping up appearances, not understanding the way other women eased from trend to trend, and style to style. After we’d gotten engaged, Jason had mentioned how I might look better with lighter hair. I’d been humiliated at first; I’d worried he didn’t find me attractive. But I’d gone to the salon the next day and had my dark tresses bleached. He’d been so excited by the change that I pretended to love it too… I just wished I’d thought of making the change on my own. Now I was angry at myself because I should have known I needed a new purse. But a Fendi?

  “I love it, but…” My eyes took in the high-end bag as a pool of unease collected in my gut. Jason had been spending more and more money lately. Every time something good happened at work, he celebrated by making an elaborate purchase. A few weeks ago, it had been a silver necklace from a ritzy jewelry store. Today it was a luxurious purse. I would have preferred to save the money, especially now with all the home renovations we’d be doing to get ready for the baby.

  “But what?” His shoulders slumped as he studied my face. “What’s wrong?”

  The positive energy deflated out of him, and I didn’t want to take that away. I’d felt so little hope from him in the past months. I pushed away my lingering shame and anger, reminding myself he was only trying to do something nice for me. He’d bought me a gift most women would kill for and now I needed to be appreciative.

  I clutched the bag and smiled, hugging him. “It’s beautiful. I really love it.” And I did love it. Maybe he was right. We both worked hard. I deserved to be spoiled a little after pinching pennies for so many years. My fingers traced over the smooth surface. “It’s so nice. I hope I don’t ruin it.”

  “You won’t ruin anything, babe.” He squeezed my hands in his. “We’ll be millionaires soon. If you wreck that one, I’ll buy you another one. No big deal.” He kissed my neck and my skin bristled with excitement. He still had that effect on me. The paint samples brushed my hand and I began to pull them out of my pocket to get Jason’s opinion on the color of the nursery, but he was already unbuttoning my shirt.

  The fluffy pink teddy bear wore a T-shirt that read Burlington, VT. I squeezed it and set it back on the shelf. My flight had arrived into Burlington International right on time, and I’d managed to power through the morning sickness with soda water and crackers. I’d already dropped my bags at Smithson Manor Bed and Breakfast. Now, I had a few hours to explore the town before checking into my room.

  I wandered down Church Street, the walkway bustling with a mixture of college students and empty nesters who were likely taking advantage of off-season rates. The eclectic mix of cafés, bistros, and clothing stores against the backdrop of the rolling countryside made for a picturesque setting. If only Jason had been there with me, it would have been a perfect afternoon. A hole-in-the-wall called the Whimsy Boutique lured me inside with its display of hand-sewn baby clothes in the window. My feet creaked across the wide plank floor, the flowery aroma of scented candles surrounding me.

  “Can I help you find something?” A college-aged woman with curly black hair stopped folding scarves and smiled at me.

  I noticed her eyes travel to my Fendi bag and I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. But also satisfied. No one ever stared at my old purse.

  “Just looking,” I said.

  “Let me know if you need anything.”

  I nodded, sifting through a rack of calico dresses so small I couldn’t imagine a human being fitting into them. I picked up a pair of baby booties from the shelf and inspected them.

  “Those are knitted by a local woman,” the saleswoman said. “She spins her own yarn from the wool she shears from her sheep.”

  The booties dangled in front of me. I couldn’t believe how tiny they were. Even though I didn’t knit, it was obvious the handiwork was exquisite. My finger brushed across the soft yarn. “They’re adorable.”

  “They come in all different colors. Are they for a boy or a girl?”

  “I don’t know yet.” My hand drifted to my stomach, a reflex. I hadn’t been to see the doctor yet, but I knew from reading online that it would be at least a few more weeks before we would know.

  The woman’s eyes opened wider. “Oh. Congratulations!”

  “Thanks.” I could feel the color rushing to my face as I picked up a second pair of booties. “I just found out.”

  She waved her arm toward the back wall of the store. “Now you get to do the fun stuff. Shopping!”

  “Yeah. It is fun.” Biting back my grin, I browsed through additional shelves holding hand-carved wooden blocks and whimsical picture frames, but the booties called to me as if an outside force were pulling me back toward them. The $58 price tag seemed more and more reasonable, considering the woman spun her own yarn.

  A pink pair weighed in one hand and a blue pair in the other. I debated. If Jason had been here, he would have bought both pairs, but that seemed silly. A white pair with pale yellow trim lay on top of the basket, solving my problem. They would work for a boy or a girl. I placed them on the counter and reached for my credit card. An unexpected hiccup caught in my throat and I swallowed back the surge of emotion. It was my first gift to our baby.

  After I paid and thanked the sales lady, I clutched the delicate gift bag in my hand and meandered back outside, envisioning how cute our baby would look wearing the booties. I imagined people complimenting me on the baby’s adorable footwear. I would tell them the story of the boutique in Vermont where I bought them, about how a local woman had stitched them together from yarn she had made from the wool of her sheep, and about how they were the first gift I ever bought for the baby before I even knew if it was a boy or a girl. I couldn’t wait to get home and show the gift to Jason.

  The walking directions on my GPS led me down a side street back toward the bed and breakfast. Despite being April, the weather was unseasonably warm, the searing sun feeling more like August. My skin perspired beneath my misguided choice of heavy black pants, which I wore with the top button undone. I’d been reading about the changes happening to my body: my thickening midsection, enlarging breasts, and bulging veins. All of that on top of nausea and fatigue. The physical part of pregnancy was miserable, and the worst wouldn’t hit until the third trimester. I might have to tell Gwen about the baby sooner than I thought.

  Several minutes later, I let my weight sink into the quilted bedspread in my room at Smithson Manor Bed and Breakfast, where I’d already lined up an interview with the owner the following morning. I’d have the rest of the day for additional research into the history of the area and to locate other hidden gems of interest to tourists. I released the air I’d been holding in my lungs, kicking the shoes off my swollen feet. The room was stuffy, so I cracked the window open to let in a warm breeze. A jagged branch of an oak tree rustled in the wind and scraped at the window. I pul
led back the quilt and lay down on the mattress. It was firmer than our bed at home and felt good on my back. It was just after 3 p.m. Plenty of time for a power nap before I chose a restaurant for dinner. First, I retrieved my phone, rested my head on the down pillow, and called Jason.

  He answered on the third ring. “Hey, babe. Did you make it to Vermont okay?”

  “Yeah. No problems.” My eyelids closed as I breathed in the clove-scented smell of the room. “It’s really nice here. I wish you were with me.”

  “I wish I was, too.” Papers rustled in the background and Jason cleared his throat. “You get to the B&B yet?”

  “Yeah. I’m here now. It’s got a lot of character.”

  “Cool.”

  “I walked around Burlington earlier, and, guess what?” Every ounce of my body wanted to tell him about the booties, but I wouldn’t let myself.

  “What?”

  “I found the cutest boutique and I bought our baby a little present.” I smiled, relishing the secret.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m not telling.”

  “Come on.”

  “I’ll show you when I get home. It’s a surprise.”

  “Okay. I like surprises.”

  A woman’s muffled laughter sounded in the background.

  “Who was that?” I asked.

  “A couple of the investors are waiting right outside. I’m getting ready to go over some numbers with them.”

  I squeezed my hands together, letting my head sink further into the pillow. Jason worked with both male and female investors, and he’d never given me reason to worry. “Oh. Okay.”

  “When are you coming back again?” Jason asked.

  “Wednesday morning. I was hoping to come back tomorrow, but I don’t think it’s going to work out. I need to find some more ‘diamonds in the rough’ for Gwen.”