The confession, p.25
The Confession, page 25
Trish drove past the sheriff’s office and the courthouse. “He’ll appreciate it more if we make him a casserole,” she said.
“I was hoping you’d say that. You’ve been so quiet about the two of you, I thought maybe something was wrong.”
“He was called out of town unexpectedly, and I’ve been busy at work.”
“When does he get back?”
Keith had sent her a text message with his schedule, but Trish couldn’t remember the details, and her phone was in her purse on the floorboard at her mother’s feet.
“Um, I’m not sure, but I think toward the end of the week.”
“Would you like to invite him over for supper? We could cook the casserole then. I know you’d probably rather go out, just the two of you, but—”
“No, that would be great. I know he’d like to see you, too. I’ll try to call him later this evening.”
“Okay.” Marge nodded and smiled.
Giving her mother an opportunity for a simple pleasure like entertaining via a home-cooked meal was an easy thing to do. Trish glanced at her mother’s thin legs, which had atrophied from lack of use. Before the accident Marge could stand on her feet all day making floral arrangements and run errands on the way home. Now she was practically a hermit.
“Have you played any interesting chess games recently?” Marge asked.
Trish shook her head. “No, but it would probably be good for me, even if it was only a few speed games.”
“Your daddy was so proud of you.”
Tears rushed to Trish’s eyes. She desperately fought against an uncontrolled release of her emotions. She parked in a handicapped spot directly in front of the entrance.
“There are a lot of cars here for this early on a weekday evening,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “That looks like Sue Ann’s van.”
“I’ve seen several like hers around town. Since it’s such a nice place, they probably have a big staff.”
Trish wiped her eyes with a tissue before she got out of the van. She couldn’t let anything spoil the evening for her mother.
Surprisingly, the restaurant wasn’t crowded, and a hostess led them to a table with plenty of room for Marge to maneuver. After placing their drink order, Trish took her mother down the salad line. She tried to anticipate what Marge wanted.
“I was about ninety percent right on your salad selections,” Trish said as she rolled her mother back to their table. “But you surprised me with the macaroni salad and the scoop of red pepper hummus. I didn’t know you liked humus.”
“I’m not sure I do, but I wanted to try it.”
Trish returned to the salad bar and hurriedly prepared a plate for herself. When she returned to the table, Marge wasn’t there. Trish stepped around the corner to the hostess’s station.
“Where’s my mother?” she asked.
“Oh, she wanted to see our banquet room. I’ll take you to her.”
Puzzled, Trish followed the hostess to the back of the restaurant. The woman opened a pair of double doors and stepped aside. The room was filled with about twenty-five people. At the front of the crowd was Marge, who had a huge smile on her face. Alongside her were Keith, Sue Ann, Mark, and Candace. The group included a smattering of friends from church, former high school classmates, and two women from the sheriff’s office. Across the back wall was a large birthday banner.
“Happy birthday!” everyone yelled at once.
Trish’s mouth dropped open. “What?” she asked. “It’s not my birthday.”
“Or mine,” Marge said. “But when you asked me to come here and joked about an early birthday party, I decided to put one together for you.”
Keith stepped forward and hugged her. His embrace was quickly followed by others from Sue Ann, Candace, and everyone else in the room. Tears streamed down Trish’s cheeks. Everyone assumed they flowed from joy. She knew they were also mixed with release from pent-up stress.
Dinner was served banquet-style at two long tables with a choice of a small rib eye steak or roasted chicken, and à la carte vegetables. Trish sat between her mother and Keith. Sue Ann and her family were across the table.
“How did you pull this off on such short notice?” Trish asked her mother in a low voice as conversations swirled around them.
“I had plenty of help.”
“And who’s paying for it? I’ve never had such a fancy party.”
“That’s not the concern of the birthday girl, but different people chipped in,” her mother replied cryptically. “All you need to know is that everybody here loves you. Enjoy yourself.”
After the meal was over, Candace led the group in singing “Happy Birthday.” Keith brought Trish a piece of cake with a pink heart on it. When he balanced a piece on a fork and offered to put it in her mouth, a voice called out.
“Save that for the wedding!”
Trish quickly looked around with a sheepish grin on her face. She took the fork from Keith’s hand and ate the cake.
“This is really nice,” she said to him as she licked a piece of icing from her fork. “How did you manage to be here?”
“When Marge called this morning, I was able to flip some of my meetings to next week. There’s no way I would miss this.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I have a present, but I don’t want to give it to you until everyone else is gone.”
“I’ll need to take my mother—”
“Thelma’s going to take her home,” Keith replied, referring to an older woman who’d taught Trish for several years in Sunday school.
Sue Ann presented Trish with a giant card signed by everyone, and Candace gave her a small plate with an outline of the little girl’s hands on it. Above the hands was printed Candace’s name along with the date. Beneath the hands was a Bible verse:
My times are in your hands.—Psalm 31:15.
“We’ve been working on this for a couple of weeks,” Sue Ann explained. “And when your mama called about tonight, I couldn’t think of a better time to give it to you.”
“That is so sweet,” Trish said, giving Candace a hug. “I pray it will always be true for you, too.”
Candace scampered off to her father, leaving Trish beside Sue Ann.
“I know you’ve had to wait for a lot of things,” Sue Ann said. “Everything will work out in the end.”
“I hope so,” Trish sighed.
The party began to break up.
“Keith says Thelma is going to drive our van and take you home,” Trish said to her mother.
“That’s right. She rode with Keith.”
“He has a gift for me,” Trish continued in a whisper. “Do you know what it is?”
“What do you want it to be?”
Trish clenched her hands together nervously, then glanced at the ring finger on her left hand.
“I’m not ready for a ring. I mean, we’re still in the early stages of our relationship. Or maybe at the beginning of the middle stages. Anyway, it would be terribly embarrassing if he pulled out a box—”
Marge reached over and put her index finger on Trish’s lips. “I don’t know what he wants to give you, but I wish you could have heard how excited he was when I called him. He dropped everything and drove back to town by noon. Since then he’s been running around like a crazy man.”
Trish sighed and handed the car keys to her mother. “Tell Thelma to take you straight home. I don’t want you looking for another place to party.”
Holt drove as fast as he dared to the veterinarian’s office. This time there weren’t many cars on the roads, and the traffic lights didn’t slow him down. He whipped the car into the lot. The front door was locked, but he could see a light on in the back of the office. Holt knocked loudly and waited. In a few moments, Dr. Wade appeared and let him inside.
“Sorry I called,” the vet began. “If I’d known—”
“He’s gone?” Holt cried out. “I drove as fast as I could!”
“No, no. He’s made a turn for the better. Come see for yourself.”
Holt followed the vet to a holding area where animals were kept for the night. A young male worker was cleaning out an empty cage. Henry was lying on his side in a small cage. When Holt entered the room, the dog gave a faint woof.
“See,” Dr. Wade said. “The antivenin kicked in and jerked him back from the brink in a hurry. I’m very glad you brought him in when you did.”
Holt stepped over and rubbed the short fur on top of the dog’s nose. Henry’s tongue came out and licked Holt’s hand.
“Wow,” Holt said.
“He’s a fighter,” Dr. Wade said.
“Yeah”—Holt nodded—“that’s all he knows to do.”
Holt called Bishop Pennington and gave him the good news.
“That’s great,” the minister said. “I can’t wait to see him chasing a ball across the basketball court. I’ll head on home and talk to you later. Should I lock the door behind me?”
“Yes,” Holt said. “And thanks for everything.”
Holt stayed by Henry’s cage until his pet drifted into a fitful sleep. Each twitch of the dog’s body was a sign of encouragement. Holt believed Henry dreamed about chasing squirrels, and if the dog could stalk squirrels in his sleep, hopefully he’d be able to do it soon while awake.
Driving home from the vet’s office, Holt passed the Meredith mansion. Its lights continued to shine even though no one was home. The investigation was at a dead end, and Holt wasn’t sure he had the energy or willpower to revive it. McDermott had abandoned him, and Butch Clovis was on to him. He didn’t trust Cecil Burkdale, and Trish Carmichael was useless as a resource.
Then Holt thought about Henry and the snake. The little dog was created to fight, and once engaged, he never gave up.
And Henry battled the snake alone.
33
Keith and Trish began cleaning up the banquet room.
“What do you want to do with the leftover cake?” Keith asked.
“I could take it to work. It wouldn’t last half an hour in the kitchen. People at the sheriff’s department will eat stale bread so long as it’s free.”
“I’d like to take a piece to my mom,” Keith said.
“Take more than a piece,” Trish said as she sliced off a thick slab and put it on a large paper plate.
“And I guess you’ll want the balloon.”
“I wish I’d given it to Candace, but I can take it to her tomorrow.
She’d love tying it to the end of her big-girl bed.”
They carried the cake and balloon to Keith’s car and then returned to the banquet room.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” Keith said. “I need to see the manager.”
Trish sat alone in the empty room. She did a quick calculation of how much it would cost to feed twenty-five people at a place this nice. It was easily more than she made in two weeks at the sheriff’s department. Keith returned with a smile on his face. It said a lot about a man if he could swipe his credit card for hundreds of dollars at a restaurant and still look happy.
“How did you like the party?” he asked.
“It was a complete surprise, and I loved it,” Trish said. “Thanks for all you did to make it happen. Mama had a great time, too. She was bubbling over with excitement coming here, and I couldn’t figure out why. We’ve never kept secrets from each other.”
“Marge is a great lady.”
“Yes, she is.”
“There’s one other thing,” Keith said, clearing his throat. “Your present.”
“How did you have time—”
“Oh, this is like Candace’s plate. I’ve been working on it for a while.”
He reached into his pocket and took out a small square box wrapped in gold foil. All the blood drained out of Trish’s face, and she knew if she tried to stand she might pass out.
“Keith, you shouldn’t—” she began.
“Don’t say anything until you open it,” he said as he handed the box to her.
It was scarily light. Trish turned it over in her fingers. Keith moved closer until he was standing directly beside her. He put his hand on her shoulder.
“You can shake it if you want to,” he said. “It’s not breakable.”
Trish didn’t want to shake it. She didn’t want to open it. The only thing she wanted to do was give it back to Keith so he could return it to his pocket. She glanced at the door to the banquet room.
“Nobody’s going to disturb us,” Keith said, following her gaze. “I told the manager we needed a few minutes of privacy.”
Trish took a deep breath. She was going to have to face the box. She picked at the edge of the wrapping paper until a tiny corner came loose. She gently tore it away from the box. A narrow strip peeled away.
“If it took you this long to open your gifts on Christmas morning when you were a little girl, I bet you didn’t finish until March,” Keith said.
“No,” Trish said and managed a brave smile, “but as an only child I received way too much.”
She tore off the rest of the gold foil. It suddenly felt odd that she, not Keith, was opening the box. If he wanted to get down on his knee and ask her to marry him, he needed to have the ring in his hand to do so.
“Do you want to open it?” she asked, looking up into his face.
“No,” Keith responded with a puzzled expression. “Why would I want to do that?”
Trish pulled up on the lid of the box and saw the glint of gold and diamonds. She put her hand to her mouth.
“Is that what I think it is?” she exclaimed.
“The most powerful piece on the board.”
Trish took out a golden chess queen with a row of tiny diamonds for a crown. Attached to the pendant was a delicate gold chain.
“This is so unique!” she said with a mixture of joy and relief. “Where in the world did you find it?”
“On the Internet, but I went to the store in Atlanta to see it for myself. It looked bigger in the sales photo, but I hope that’s okay—”
“No, it’s perfect.”
Trish put the necklace around her neck. The pendant hung down exactly as she liked.
“How did you know the length of the chain?”
“I guessed.”
Trish fingered the pendant again. “It’s exquisite. I love it.”
“A queen for a princess.” Keith smiled.
Trish looked up into Keith’s eyes and saw affection and tenderness she didn’t know could live in the heart of a man.
Holt phoned the veterinarian’s office as soon as he woke up in the morning. The answering service took the call and told him he’d have to call back at 7:30 a.m. to get a status report on Henry. Holt wasn’t worried. If something bad had happened in the middle of the night, the tech on duty would have let him know.
Instead of going directly to the office, he swung by the vet’s office. He recognized one of the women on duty from the night before.
“Your dog is drinking water and growled at me when I slipped the bowl into his cage,” she said before Holt could ask a question. “But he’s still unsteady on his feet.”
“May I see him?”
The woman picked up the phone. In a few seconds another woman came out and led Holt to the holding area. Henry was lying on his side, but he wagged his tail when Holt approached.
“Still fighting?” Holt asked as he opened the door of the cage to stroke the dog.
Henry twitched his nose as his tail continued to thump against the floor of the cage. The woman who’d greeted Holt in the reception area opened the door and called out.
“Mrs. Stevens is here to pick up Peps,” she said.
“She’s early,” the female tech replied roughly.
“And doesn’t want to wait.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll get him ready.”
Holt watched as a worker took the white Chihuahua from the cage on the opposite side of the room. A card on the cage identified the dog as belonging to “Mrs. Valerie Stevens.”
“What was wrong with Peps?” Holt asked as the tech put a bright red collar around the dog’s neck. “He looks healthy enough.”
“Nothing, he’s a regular overnight customer. Mrs. Stevens doesn’t trust anyone to take care of him when she’s out of town. That dog means the world to her.”
Holt gave Henry a final pat on the head and shut the door of the cage.
“Did Dr. Wade mention how long Henry will have to stay?”
“No, but it will probably be a couple of days. If you want him to call you, let them know at the front desk.”
“I’ll do that. Be careful with Henry. Once he’s back to normal, he has a tendency to bite first and ask questions later.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, but I rarely have a problem, especially when I’ve taken care of a sick animal for a few days.”
Holt went to the waiting area. Valerie Stevens was standing in front of a magazine rack. She was wearing casual clothes with the touch of extra tailoring that set them apart from items off a sales rack.
“Hello,” he said. “I saw you the other day in front of—”
“Henry’s owner,” Valerie interrupted with a bright smile. “Is he okay?”
“Barely. Yesterday he killed the largest copperhead I’ve ever seen. It bit him several times and it was touch and go for a while last night, but he’s going to make it.”
“I’m terrified of snakes.” Valerie’s eyes widened. “How big was it?”
Holt extended his arms out from his sides. “About this long and as thick as my wrist. I wasn’t at home, but two construction workers saw the fight and said Henry and the snake were in a death struggle for at least half an hour.”
The tech brought out Peps, who yelped when he saw Valerie and began to wiggle. The worker put the dog in Valerie’s arms. She held him up so he could quickly lick her chin before nestling down in her arms.
“He has to give me a kiss,” she said, “or he’ll pester me until he does.”
“You’re all set, Mrs. Stevens,” the woman behind the desk called out.
Valerie turned to Holt. “I hope Henry gets better soon.”
“I’m sure he’ll be chasing squirrels before I know it.”
