Show Me Betrayal, page 3
“Hence the sweater, my friend.” When she finished with the buttons, her arms fell back on the bed. “Did the boys honestly complain to you?”
“You know I always tell the truth. At least we don’t have to figure out a stupid costume now that we’re wearing our new dresses.”
“With your imagination, I can’t fathom why you weren’t bewitched by the costume idea.”
“I told you. The guys kept harping about it. We might like the idea of Cinderella’s ball and a handsome prince, but they’d show up looking like the cast of Rawhide. No point in wearing a ball gown with the guys in string ties and cowboy hats.”
Winnie sat up and launched a pillow at Suzanne.
Suzanne caught the pillow and giggled.
Winnie swung her feet to the floor and sat up. “Let me see your dress again. It’s just divine.”
Suzanne gestured at the Algebra II textbook lying on the desk. “We have a test tomorrow. Have you even looked at the chapter?”
“The things on my mind matter more than math. Why are you even in my class, anyway? You’re almost two years younger.”
“I’m only a year and four months younger. They placed us in that class based upon Iowa Basic test scores, not age.” Suzanne winked at her. “The real question is, why you’re in that class?”
“Ouch!”
“The truth hurts.”
The second ring of the doorbell, followed by approaching footsteps, alerted them to another visitor. Doreen, clad in winter gear, crossed the threshold of Suzanne’s room. She grinned and then dove onto the bed beside Winnie, her brown curls bouncing.
“Doreen, take off your coat,” Suzanne said. “It’s not that cold.”
“I can’t stay. I escaped mother because I told her I had to go to the library for my English paper.”
Suzanne frowned. “You lied to your mother?”
“No. I am going to the library. I just didn’t tell her I was stopping here first.”
“Stay for a second,” Winnie said. “Suzanne’s going to show us her dress for my party.”
“I only have a second, but I’d love to see it.”
Winnie gave Doreen a slight push. “Off we go.”
They trooped to the other side of the second floor. Mother and Father’s bedroom was usually off-limits, but Suzanne felt she could justify the trespass. With Mother putting her new dress in their wardrobe, she should expect it to be visited occasionally.
“I forgot how big this bedroom is,” Winnie said.
Suzanne smiled. “My grandmother designed it. She insisted on room for the bed, that enormous wardrobe, and a reading area.”
Doreen ran her hand across the chaise longue. “The house and furnishings are divine. So unusual.”
“Unique, that’s true,” Suzanne said. “I believe Grandmother wanted to hide from her servants. In those days, household staff did all the work. In the hall between this bedroom and the bathroom, we even have a dumbwaiter to the butler’s pantry and a laundry chute that runs to the basement. The help still climbed the stairs to serve tea and gather linens, but they didn’t have to lug everything up and down.”
“How fun to have been rich and lived during that time,” Winnie said.
“But if you were poor, you’d be someone’s servant,” Doreen said. “That would have been awful.”
Winnie and Suzanne exchanged a glance. Doreen wasn’t blessed with the family wealth they experienced. Her parents had recently divorced, and money was tight.
Winnie pointed to the wardrobe. “Come on, Suzanne. Dig out that dress.”
“I used to hide inside this wardrobe when I was little.”
Winnie made a face. “I’d have hidden in there, too, if your mother had been my mother.”
Doreen turned on her. “That was ugly.”
Winnie raised an eyebrow. “It’s true, and you know it.”
Suzanne spread the doors, and the skirt of her new dress leaped to freedom. The girls sighed in admiration when she removed the gown from the wardrobe.
The emerald green, A-line dress made of lace and tulle had a scoop neck and three-quarter sleeves. At the narrow waist was a wide band, and the skirt held enough tulle to choke an elephant.
“Oh, Suzanne. It’s the prettiest dress I’ve ever seen,” Doreen said.
“When you see mine, you’ll say it’s the second prettiest,” Winnie interjected. “It’s a beautiful pink with a white lace collar and cuffs. This dress, however, is heavenly and comes in at a close number two.”
Suzanne felt a pang of guilt about owning it. Such a dress deserved a better model. “Too bad my face isn’t anywhere near as pretty as this dress. Mother had to order this from Famous-Barr in St. Louis because I can’t carry off a lesser dress.”
“That’s not true,” Winnie said. “You have a pleasant face.”
Doreen nodded. “I’d give anything to look as intelligent as you do.”
Suzanne held up her hand. “Stop. Both of you. We all know my features don’t quite fit my face. I’m not begging for misplaced compliments. I’m just telling you why my mother bought me such a magnificent dress.”
Doreen touched the tulle. “It’s a beautiful color. It’ll bring out the reddish highlights in your hair.”
“That’s it!” Winnie gasped. “I knew this dress reminded me of something. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Scarlett’s curtain dress in Gone with the Wind.”
Suzanne chuckled. “Only because it’s green. It’s not velvet.”
Mrs. Thatcher’s voice rose from the first floor. “Are you girls in my room?”
Doreen’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. In a whisper, she asked, “How does she know?”
Suzanne smirked. “It’s nothing magical. There’s a squeaky board up here. You can hear it in the kitchen.” She shoved the dress back into the wardrobe and stepped to the doorway. “We’re leaving, Mother. Just admiring my new dress.”
“Gotta go!” Doreen ran out of the room and down the stairs before anyone could say goodbye. The sound of the front door closing verified her departure.
“Your mother petrifies poor Doreen. I don’t understand why.”
“She may petrify all of us at some point, but her mother, my grandmother, was way worse.”
“I don’t remember your Nana being scary.”
“That’s because she wasn’t. Nana was my father’s mother. Grandmummy, mother’s mother from England, was terrifying. She died before you and I started hanging out together. My mother seems warm and cozy compared to her.”
Winnie shuddered. “If that’s true, she must have been awful. Why don’t I remember her from church?”
“She went to a different one, closer to what she was used to in England.”
Confusion sparkled in Winnie’s eyes. Her family would never divide ranks and attend different churches.
Winnie shrugged. “I’d better go too. Need to avoid those ‘evil eyes’ your mother gives when I’ve stayed too long.” She started down the staircase, then whispered back to Suzanne. “And that voice. Her ‘controlled anger’ sends shivers up my spine.” Raising her voice to normal level, she called out, “Talk to you tomorrow.”
Chapter Five
Liesl
November 8
Liesl shivered involuntarily. How could a voice produce such reactions? Would she melt into a puddle when face-to-face with him?
Get a grip, girl. She searched the kitchen for something to busy her hands. After collecting dirty dishes from the table, she sped to the sink. Soapy dishwater would hide her shakiness.
Nicole’s voice echoed down the hall as she chatted with the visitor. When she crossed the kitchen threshold, she said, “Liesl? Kurt’s here to see you.”
With deliberate slowness, Liesl glanced in his direction and nodded. Was her face a pale shade of green? Her ice cream lunch wasn’t sitting well. She stared at him and didn’t invite him to sit down.
Other than slight crow’s feet near his eyes, he looked the same—tall and muscle-bound like a linebacker. His presence filled the space between them. His tweed sport coat fit snugly, wide at the shoulders and nipped at the waist. The dark sapphire shirt he wore caused his multi-hued eyes to shine blue.
He transferred his weight from one foot to the other as if waiting for someone to break the silence. Finally, he cleared his throat.
“I … I came here as soon as they told me about your aunt. I’m so sorry I missed her funeral. I was at a convention in Colorado.”
“I see.” Liesl’s voice sounded steadier than she felt. Thank the Lord. “Must have been a long convention.”
He frowned at her comment. “My cousin Ronny lives near Colorado Springs. You remember him, don’t you?”
She nodded, recalling a rail-thin fellow with blond hair.
“He’s been after me for years to go elk hunting. With the convention there, I could do both. I was told about Miss Suzanne this morning.” He paused. “Today’s my first day back at work.”
Liesl sighed. “Sorry to be snippy. I didn’t know.”
He took a step, then hesitated. “What a loss for you and for our town.”
“Thank you.” In the past, all her problems disappeared when he wrapped her in a hug. Today she remained tethered to the floor, problems tethered with her.
An awkward silence stretched. Liesl returned to scrubbing dishes while Kurt ran his fingers through his brown hair. His gesture revealed a pistol in a shoulder holster. Since when did he carry a handgun?
“I was told she became ill and never recovered. Do they know what it was?”
“So far, they’re calling it the flu. Dr. Johnson promised he’d review her records and all the tests from the hospital. He didn’t expect her to deteriorate so quickly. He wants answers as much as I do.”
“If anything suspicious comes out of it, please call me. I want to help.”
Why would she call him?
Nicole jumped in, directing a question at Kurt. “How do you like being part of the detective squad now?”
Kurt turned to Nicole. “It’s both a challenging experience and the most exciting thing I’ve ever done. A gigantic leap in my career.”
Nicole told Liesl, “They promoted Kurt to detective last month.” Then she said to Kurt, “I’m sure you’ll do a great job.”
They continued to chat while Liesl studied him. She’d hoped the years would have allowed her to get over her feelings for him, but the rollercoaster sensation in her stomach showed otherwise. Why couldn’t she leave her affection for him in the past? Especially after his betrayal.
“Liesl?”
Nicole’s expression told her she’d missed something. “Sorry.”
“Kurt asked if you were going to move back to Mexico.”
She looked from Nicole to Kurt, then back, and shrugged. “I haven’t decided anything.”
Nicole turned to Kurt. “Like I was saying, Mrs. Schrader left her this house. As a real estate agent, I cautioned Liesl against making a quick decision after such an enormous loss.”
They faced Liesl again, and she continued attacking the dishes. “It’s going to be a hard decision. I love my apartment in Houston, and I have great neighbors. Thankfully, with several months remaining on my lease, I have time to decide.”
“This house is amazing, but it’ll cost a fortune on upkeep alone,” Kurt said.
Although with the size of her inheritance, the point was moot. Liesl nodded as if considering the operating costs.
“Whether you stay or go, install an alarm system,” Kurt said. “Crimes against property have become a problem.”
“Do you know a local company?”
He held up two fingers. “Either will do you right.”
“Our star quarterback, Donnie Davis, owns Mexico Security Service,” Nicole said. “He’ll take good care of you.”
Kurt’s face clouded.
Liesl secretly enjoyed Kurt’s discomfort. “Thanks. I’ll give Donnie a call.”
Chapter Six
Liesl
That night, Liesl boxed her pillows like a prizefighter, haunted by her immature behavior in front of Kurt. Her crushed pride had tortured her for nearly seven years. When could she let it go? No matter what she said or did, nothing would change the history between them.
His betrayal was complete, but wasn’t it time to move forward?
She flung off the bedcovers and groped for her robe. Her brain would not allow sleep, so she headed to the couch in the second-story living area. The pull of silvery moonlight lured her to the large second-floor window at the front of the house. She made a nest on the padded window seat and wrapped herself in a plaid fleece laprobe. A whiff of Aunt Suzanne’s perfume remained on the blanket, making her simultaneously happy and sad.
Faint, rhythmic pings from the basement boiler belched heat. Steam hissed through the pipes. The musical sounds blended into a jazzy combo when joined by the occasional creaks of the house. This familiar symphony was like her second heartbeat, and she relaxed. This house was almost a living entity to her.
As a child, she’d imagined a giant worked in the basement, blowing heat through the pipes to keep them warm. After tiptoeing down the narrow stairway to capture a glimpse of him at work, her courage had vanished when confronted with the massive metal door dividing the playroom from his boiler room lair, which sent her Strawberry Shortcake sneakers flying upstairs.
As teenagers, her friends would arrive for a sleepover with high expectations. They’d drag sleeping bags and pillows to the playroom side of the basement, blare rock music, and eat popcorn until some unearthly clank frightened them back above ground.
She and Kurt had shared many chuckles generated by the boiler. At the end of countless dates, entwined in a romantic clutch or a kiss, they’d crumble in hoots of laughter as the rattle of the steam in the pipes sounded more like passing gas.
She was now the new owner of the metal beast. Uncertain of its care and feeding, she’d also need to get it examined for safety—another item on her ever-expanding list of “Things That Must Be Done Now That Aunt Suzanne Is Gone.” A sad list.
The double window showed the absence of traffic on the boulevard, which signaled the lateness of the hour. Circles formed by the streetlights resembled spotlights on a stage, as if they waited for someone to step into the glow and sing. Frozen dew shone silver in the moonlight, and the wheat-colored grass of winter spiked in all directions. Clumps of snow winked beneath trees and bushes.
Movement across the street caught her eye.
Was it a branch dancing in the wind? Someone else sleepless tonight? She stared at oversized bushes beneath the neighbor’s picture window. That house was vacant. The Murrys had packed up their empty nest and retired in South Carolina.
Again, there was movement. Someone was out there. Before she could react, a dark figure threw a large object through the window, and the splintered shards fell, sparkling in the moonlight. Two black-clad figures pushed glass debris from the lower ledge and pulled themselves into the home. Tiny lights blinked in the room, then went out.
She bolted from the window seat, skidded across the polished wooden floor in her effort to get her phone from the bedroom. With it in hand, she tapped out 9-1-1.
“Nine-one-one. Please state your emergency,” a woman’s voice said.
“The house across from 1105 South Jefferson Street is being robbed. I saw them break in.”
“How many people did you see?”
“Two, but there could be more.” Liesl walked back to the window. The neighbor’s house remained dark. “Two at the front of the house. There could be more in back.”
“Did you see any weapons?”
“Too dark to tell.”
“I’ll dispatch the police. Please stay on the line.”
The dispatcher called for response and relayed Liesl’s address.
Liesl tried to correct her, “No, across from 1105 South Jefferson. The Murrys’ house,” but the dispatcher was still talking to the responding officer.
When the dispatcher returned, Liesl explained the location issue and held while the address was corrected.
“Are you calling from the Schrader residence?” asked the dispatcher.
“Yes, ma’am, my aunt is … er, was Suzanne Schrader.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Small-town condolences. It warmed her heart. Even the emergency dispatcher knew her aunt. “Thank you.”
“Can you still see the intruders?”
“I’ve been watching the house. The ones who broke in haven’t come out, at least not out where I can see.”
“Please describe the suspects.”
“Two figures, could be men or women, wearing black. Hoodie sweatshirts or jackets, black pants or jeans, dark sneakers or boots.”
“Did you see the suspects’ vehicle?”
“They came on foot from behind the house. They shattered the big window, and it caught my attention.”
The wail of a siren cut through their conversation. Dogs howled. “I hear ’em coming.”
“Please stay on the line,” the dispatcher said. “I’d like you to confirm they’re heading to the right place.”
“No problem.” Flashing blue lights signaled the imminent arrival of the squad car. A white sedan with bar lights flashing across its roof skidded from the boulevard onto South Jefferson Street. When it screeched to a stop in the middle of the street, there was a scream of rubber on pavement. “They’re here.”
The car doors burst open, and two uniformed officers exited. They approached the dark house quickly, with caution.
“They are heading to the right house.”
“Thanks for your help,” the dispatcher said. “Disconnecting now.”
Within seconds, two more cars appeared. One of the first responders climbed through the broken window while one remained outside. The two fresh additions ran around toward the back of the house.
Liesl let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
A fourth car squealed to a stop, this one dark with blue and red lights flashing in its grille. A non-uniformed driver exited the car. He approached the officer stationed in front, and they conversed. Then both heads turned to stare at her.
