Midnight Sacrifice (19 page)

She pushed up a sleeve. “I could use some help. Want to dry the dishes?”

Bill’s face brightened. “Sure.”

Mandy tossed him a dish towel. She scrubbed her way through the stack of pans. Bill carefully dried each one and put it away.

“Thanks.”

“I like helping you, Mandy.” Bill tilted his head.

“I know. I’ve been really busy. Sometimes I forget to ask.”

“If you ask me for help, you won’t be so busy. Can I do anything else?” Bill asked.

She almost asked him to bring in the mail but changed her mind. “The porches need to be swept.”

“OK.” Bill grabbed the broom from the pantry and went out onto the back porch. Mandy filled a watering can and joined him. She gave both pots of pansies a thorough drink. “Thank you for the flowers.”

Bill paused midsweep, his face crinkling in confusion. “You already thanked me when I gave them to you.”

“For the first ones, but not these.” Mandy tilted the can over the new container.

Bill shook his head. “I wouldn’t give you anything like that. The flowers are pretty, but the pot is ugly and kind of scary.”

Mandy pointed to the branch tied over the door. “Have you ever seen that?”

“Nope.” Bill imitated Danny’s voice. The broom whisked across the floorboards.

Mandy scanned the yard. The bright sunshine contrasted with the darkness of her thoughts. Who had been on her porch last night? She set the watering can on the painted gray boards and squatted to examine the flowerpot. It was about a foot high and maybe a foot and a half across. The metal was dull silver in color. In addition to the repeated image of a man’s face in circle of flames, the pot was adorned with spirals and horses and interlocking triangles. The overall effect was primitive—and intimidating. It didn’t look like anything available at a garden center.

Mandy leaned closer. A small tag on a green stem nestled amid the blossoms. A floral arrangement gift tag? She reached for it, turning the cardboard around to read the front. Tiny roses and hearts decorated the face. In the center, a message was typed in fancy script. A leftover Valentine’s Day card?

Be Mine.

Mandy flinched away from it. Straightening wobbly knees, she backed away. Her heartbeat amplified until the echo of blood rushing in her ears drowned out the tweeting of birds and the faint scrape of straw sweeping across wood. She scanned the yard, her gaze burrowing into every shadow. No one was there.

The other threats had been direct, point-blank instructions. The flowers that had been pretty two minutes ago now gave her
the creeps. This was different. This wasn’t blackmail. This had a whole different feel. This was personal. Someone who knew her favorite flowers. Could she have more than one stalker?

You’re mine
, Nathan had said, but it couldn’t be him.

Bill’s broom stopped moving. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She gave her brother a fake smile. “Let’s go inside. It’s almost lunchtime.”

“But I’m not done,” he protested.

“You can finish later.”

Bill’s jaw clenched. “Danny says it’s important to finish what you start.”

Mandy caved. “All right. You finish up the sweeping, then I’ll make us both lunch. How’s that sound?”

“Great.”

Reason told her that whoever had left the pot was long gone. But Mandy kept her eyes on the perimeter of the property and her thoughts on her revolver while her brother finished his task at an agonizingly deliberate pace. Bill did not leave one speck of dirt behind. Fifteen minutes later, he nodded at her. “I’m done. We can eat now.”

“That looks great. Thanks.” She hustled him into the kitchen. He beamed with pride as he followed her. Relief swept through Mandy as she locked the back door. “Can you ask Mom if she wants a sandwich?”

“Sure.” Bill ducked into their apartment.

Mandy wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs. Bill returned in less than a minute with their mother right behind him.

“What’s going on, Mandy?” Her mom fisted a hand on a padded hip. Even with the weight she’d lost, her midsection remained lumpy as an old down pillow. “Bill said someone left a strange present on the porch?”

“It’s just some flowers.”

Her mother went out onto the porch for a minute. “I don’t like this.” She picked up the phone.

“What are you doing?” Panic raced through Mandy.

Her mother gestured with the cordless. “Calling the police.”

“Why are you calling the police?” Worry tinted Bill’s voice.

Mae patted his hand. “It’s not a big deal, but someone was on our porch last night without our permission. Considering everything that’s happened, I want Doug to come out here and take a look around.”

“But all they did was leave some flowers.” Bill propped his elbows on the counter and rested his chin in his hands.

“Bill’s right, Mom,” Mandy reasoned. “Calling Doug is pointless.” And potentially dangerous. What if her stalker was watching? Would he think Mandy wasn’t keeping up her end of the deal? “You know he’ll just blow it off.”

“Our taxes pay his salary, and he can damn well get his butt out here when I call.” Her mother’s face reddened with her temper. “I’ll do it if you’re not willing to—”

“No, you’re right.” Alarmed by her mother’s color, Mandy jumped in.

“You’re damn straight I’m right.” Mae dialed the phone and spoke to the dispatcher.

“Why don’t you sit down and have some lunch?” Mandy took her mother’s elbow.

Breathless, Mae pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m not hungry. If you’ll handle Doug when he gets here, I’ll go lie down.”

“Of course I will.” Mandy would have promised anything to get her mother to rest.

“I’m hungry.” Bill lifted his head.

“OK, Bill.” Mandy made tuna salad and spread it on rye. She gave Bill two sandwiches, and they ate at the kitchen island in silence. When was the last time she’d
enjoyed
time with her
brother? But the strange things on the back porch and the police lieutenant’s imminent arrival intruded on their companionship. Mandy’s appetite dimmed. She put her sandwich on her plate. “Stay right here, all right?”

Chewing, Bill nodded. Mandy walked through the house and out the front door. The mailbox sat at the end of the brick walk. White with a black flag to mirror the house’s colors and some daffodils peeking through the dirt around its whitewashed post, it was quaint, innocuous. But Mandy knew with complete certainty it held something dangerous. Call it premonition, women’s intuition, or survival instinct, sometimes one just knew trouble was waiting. There was no avoiding it, though.

She scanned the street. Empty in both directions. No one skulking behind the shrubs. She shoved her shaking hands into her front pockets as she went down the steps. In the flower beds that lined the front walk, more tiny green heads of spring bulbs, hyacinths here, poked through the soil. The mailbox opened with a creak. Mandy pulled out a stack of letters. Her eye fell on a familiar white envelope. No return address. No stamp. Her name printed neatly in the center.

She ripped it open and pulled out an eight-by-ten glossy. Bill and Danny standing over the lawn mower in the backyard. Mandy held the photo up. Light came though cuts in the image. Someone had cut the picture right across her brother’s neck, decapitating his image. Fear curled in Mandy’s belly. Bold red print spelled out the new message on Bill’s chest.

D
ON’T FORGET.

Danny parked behind the inn. He glanced at the back of the house. He was contemplating whether to knock on the back door
or go around to the front. Just where did he stand with Mandy? Bill waved through the kitchen window, then opened the door.

Danny walked into the kitchen. “Hey, Bill. What’s going on?”

“Dunno.” Bill shoved his hand into a bag of potato chips. “Mandy’s upset about something.”

Guilt sandbagged Danny. Was she worried about him? He should have called to let her know he was fine.

The door opened. Mandy came through. “Bill, would you—” Spying Danny, she stopped short. “Oh, you’re back.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“It’s all right. You didn’t make any promises.” But she kept her distance, moving to the counter to clean up some dirty dishes. “Bill, would you check on Mom?”

“Sure, Mandy.” Bill tucked a bag of chips under his arm. “Maybe she’ll watch
Star Wars
with me.”

Mandy smiled, but her eyes were sad. She glanced at the bandage on Danny’s hand. “How’s your cut?”

“Fine. Just a few stitches.”

She nodded, and Danny wondered how to address the awkwardness that had sprung up between them. Was she upset that he’d wanted to kiss her? Or had she remembered she wanted him to leave because he reminded her of a terrible incident? Or was something else bothering her? He’d been careful not to mention Nathan.

Tires crunched on gravel. Mandy startled. Danny went to the window. A police cruiser pulled into the lot. Doug Lang got out.

“What’s he doing here?”

Mandy crossed her arms over her chest. “Mom called him.”

Alarm buzzed through Danny. “Why? What happened?”

Mandy looked away. Her pretty mouth tightened in a way that made Danny want to fix everything for her, right after he kissed it. “Bill didn’t put the flowers on the porch. He didn’t tie that branch over the door either.”

Danny shoved a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier.”

“I told you. It’s OK.” But her voice was chilly enough to keep cocktail shrimp fresh.

“No, it’s not. I had to meet the insurance guy at Reed’s house, but I had plenty of time to stop back here. I just…”
don’t feel like much of a man anymore
. “Needed time to think.” Christ. He’d almost spilled his girly guts. That would really make him feel more manly. Tune in at six to watch an Iraq war veteran spontaneously grow a vagina.

Danny followed her outside. Together they watched Lieutenant Lang strut across the back lawn. He climbed the three wooden steps onto the porch and stopped a few feet away from them. “OK, what’s the problem?”

Mandy pointed at the flowers and the branch over the door. “Someone left those here during the night.”

Hands on hips, the cop stared at the container of flowers. “And you think a pot of pansies is threatening?”

“My mother was concerned,” she said.

“They’re flowers,” the lieutenant scoffed. “It was probably your brother. He does weird shit all the time.”

Mandy shook her head. “He says he didn’t.”

The cop’s eyes narrowed on the kitchen window. Bill’s figure was moving around in the kitchen. “Bill!”

“Don’t yell at him,” Mandy snapped.

Bill shuffled out the door. His head hung in a way that put Danny’s protective instincts on edge. He put a hand on Bill’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Bill focused on the floorboards.

“Are you sure you didn’t put these flowers here for your sister?” The cop had lowered his voice, but his tone was short on patience.

“N-no.” Bill backed away from the cop until he was flat against the closed door. “I’d never give Mandy anything like that. It’s scary.”

The cop rolled his eyes. Bill studied his gigantic sneakers and dug a toe into the doormat.

Mandy stepped in front of her brother. “Lieutenant, I don’t appreciate—”

“Hey, Bill?” Danny cut her off. Making a major production out of the cop’s assholeness wasn’t going to help her brother. Bill’s gaze lifted to Danny’s knees. “My hand really hurts. Could you get me a bag of ice?”

“Sure, Danny.” Bill slunk through the door like a kicked puppy.

The door closed behind Bill. Mandy glared at Lang. “You could be nicer.”

“I don’t have time to coddle your retarded brother,” the cop shot back.

“Do not use that word in my house.” Mandy’s tone was blast-chiller cold. “It’s an insult.”

Danny’s good hand clenched into a fist, and he itched to plow it straight into the cop’s face. But Danny wasn’t a teenage troublemaker anymore, and he wouldn’t be much use from a jail cell. He had no doubt the cop would
love
to arrest him. Power-hungry Lang would enjoy arresting anybody.

“Sorry, handicapped. No, mentally challenged. Is that the politically correct term these days? It is what it is, whatever you call it,” Lang shot back.

Mandy’s eyes narrowed to tiny, furious slits. “You have no right—”

“No right to do what?” Land interrupted. “Come here when someone calls the police?”

Mandy looked as pissed off as Danny felt. Her glare was a freaking dagger, sharp, pointy, and ready to disembowel the cop standing in front of her.

Lang inflated his chest like a rooster. “Have you asked all your neighbors if they left this for you or if they saw anyone around the inn?”

“Well, no,” Mandy admitted. “But none of them would leave me something like this.”

“You neighbors never give you anything?” The cop lifted his sunglasses from his nose. Unnaturally large biceps threatened to burst the seams of his too-tight uniform shirt’s sleeves.

Mandy sighed. “Mr. Kane gives me cucumbers and tomatoes if he has too many, but nothing like this.”

Doug emitted a long-suffering sigh. “Look, Mandy. Everybody knows you like flowers. Maybe one of your neighbors bought too many. In any case, flowers,” he glanced at the door, “or a twig are hardly dangerous.” He snapped his notebook closed. “I’m busy. I spent the morning hauling a crazy homeless dude into county for a psych evaluation. Claimed an alien with a ray gun tried to abduct him. Please tell your mother not to call the police again unless there’s been an actual crime.” He pivoted on a heel and strode back to his car.