Show Me Betrayal, page 4
The one dressed in civilian clothes walked toward her house. She recognized that loping walk. Kurt. Why was he coming here?
Liesl careened down the flight of stairs in her slippers, hesitating only to grab her coat beside the door. When she stepped onto the porch, the burst of frigid air made her shiver. She pulled on her gloves and rushed down the steps to meet him.
Kurt’s long strides made crunching sounds as he drew near. “Are you all right?”
She nodded.
“Did they try to break into your house?”
“I don’t think so. They were in the bushes at the Murry place. When they broke the window, I called 911.”
“When your address came across the scanner, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I got here as fast as I could. How many are there?”
“Two, I think.” Liesl hugged herself to keep warm.
“Did you see a car?”
“Nope.”
He reached out and gripped her arm. “I told you to get an alarm system.”
She jerked his arm away and hissed, “Yes. This afternoon. I can’t move mountains, Kurt. As soon as you left, I called for an appointment. It’s tomorrow.”
He frowned. “Sorry. I’m just concerned about your safety.” He glanced over at the other house. “I’ve got to get back.”
“Go. I’m certainly not trying to keep you here.” Liesl rubbed her runny nose on her sleeve.
He scowled. “You need to come to the station and file an eyewitness report.”
“Tonight?”
“No, morning will be soon enough.”
“Fine. Uncle Max always said no good deed goes unpunished. He was right.”
She spun and marched across the frozen grass. Her anger evaporated when a large black-and-tan object lying on the porch brought her to a halt.
She fell to her knees. The moonlight provided enough illumination for her to see that it was Aunt Suzanne’s camel-hair coat, burned black in spots. She moved to gather it into her arms, but stopped when she realized it might still be hot.
Kurt’s voice boomed beside her. “What is that?”
His flashlight winked into action and confirmed her fears.
“Aunt Suzanne’s coat.”
“Did you do this?”
She spun toward him and asked through gritted teeth, “Why would I set my dead aunt’s coat on fire?”
He ignored her venom and squatted beside her. Holding his palms above the coat for a moment, he pronounced it cool. With the handle of his flashlight, he pushed the material forward and studied the boards of the porch where it had been lying.
“It wasn’t burned here.” He touched the area the coat had covered. “No heat damage like blistered paint. Someone burned this elsewhere and brought it here.” He bent down and sniffed. “Smells like lighter fluid.” He turned to her. “When did you last see this?”
Liesl rocked back on her heels. “It was hanging by the door inside. Today I ran some errands after you and Nicole left. I didn’t notice if it was still there when I left or returned.”
“You’re sure you locked up?”
“Of course. I’m obsessive about it.”
“Notice anything disturbed?”
“Nothing.”
Kurt’s radio squawked. He stood and tugged it from the clip.
She wiped her nose again and studied him as he conversed with his people.
He returned the radio to his belt and jerked his head at the other house. “They’ve captured two men, and I’ve got to go down to the station with them. Let me walk through your house first and make sure everything is secure. You’d better come down there with me tonight. This has to be reported. It’s both arson and vandalism, if not outright theft. I don’t like this one bit. Fire is usually a sign of anger and aggression.”
She considered that and looked down at her robe. “I need to change.”
“Hold on a second. Let me look for tracks.” He circled the house while she stood on the porch and shivered.
On his return, he asked, “Was this out here when you rushed out?”
“I don’t know, I was looking at you. I could have missed it.”
“Right. It’s doubtful I’d have missed seeing someone sling this onto the porch while we talked.”
“Why would anyone steal, burn, then bring back my aunt’s coat?”
His hazel eyes didn’t provide any answers.
Liesl shivered, this time from fear rather than the cold.
Kurt made a quick check of the house before giving Liesl the okay to change clothes. When she’d dressed, she found him pacing downstairs.
“I checked your downstairs doors and windows, and they’re all secure.”
“Thank you.”
“Does anyone else have a key to the house?”
“Several of Aunt Suzanne’s friends would probably have one.”
“You need to look into that or consider changing the locks.”
“Will do.”
“Can you go grab a paper bag? I’d like to use it to transport the coat.”
On the porch, they carefully transferred it to the bag without touching it.
“I’ll take you to the station.”
“How will I get home?”
“I’ll bring you back.” They walked to his car, and he opened the passenger door for her. “I need to talk to the other officers for just a minute.”
She slid into the car as he strode toward the house suffering the break-in.
His car was a welcome oasis of warmth on such a cold, strange night. The heater stirred the scent of aftershave. She glanced at all the radio and police gear, resisting the urge to touch.
Movement in the back seat made her scream and catapulted her out the passenger door. She huffed white clouds of panic into the frosty air, peering with caution through the open door into the back seat. A boy’s head popped into view, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She returned to the front seat to take her first look at Kurt’s son.
The boy’s wheat-colored hair framed a face similar to Kurt’s, but the softness in his chin and lips must have come from his mother’s gene pool. He was wrapped in a blanket, wearing Dallas Cowboys pajamas.
“Hello, there. I’m Liesl.”
“Sorry I scared you. I’m Ross. Where’s my dad?”
“He’ll be back soon. He’s helping with the arrest of some burglars.”
“Were they breaking into your house?”
“See that house?” She pointed to the scene of the crime. “That’s the one broken into.” Tapping the passenger window beside her, she added, “That one’s mine. I saw them break in and called the police.”
After wiping sleep from his eyes, he looked around.
“Do you always ride along with your dad when he’s called out?”
“He won’t let me stay home alone, even though I’m six years old.”
“I have to agree with him, although you’re awfully grown up.”
Her stomach, already in knots because of the evening’s events, ached. For six years, she’d avoided confronting the physical proof of Kurt’s betrayal of their relationship. Why did she have to face him tonight?
Ross scooted to the middle of the back seat and then climbed to the front, dragging his blanket with him. He settled behind the wheel and looked at her. “How did you see the bad guys? Were you outside?”
“No, I was in that big window on the second floor.”
“Your house looks spooky.”
She couldn’t argue with him about that. From his perspective, a big Victorian house might be scary. “There aren’t any ghosts. Although, when I was little, I believed there was a giant in the basement.”
“Really?” He grinned, exposing a hole where a tooth used to be. “Could I see it one day?”
“Ah ... sure. I’ll take you on a tour anytime, but the giant was only in my imagination.”
“I wanna go into that round area up at the top.”
“That’s a turret. When I was a child, my aunt let me play there. I pretended to be a princess in a tower, kidnapped by an evil queen. Kind of like Rapunzel, except no golden hair.”
“I have golden hair.”
“Yes, you do. You must have inherited it from your mother.”
Ross frowned. “I don’t have a mother.”
The look on his small face made her regret her words.
He turned and stared out the driver’s window.
“I’m sorry. It’s tough growing up without a mother. I was two years old when both of my parents passed away. My great aunt and uncle raised me in that house.”
He looked at me. “Really?”
She nodded. “Truth.”
“Daddy and I do just fine by ourselves.”
“I’m sure you do. Can your daddy cook?”
“He makes great pancakes and hamburgers. I make the macaroni and cheese.”
The driver’s door opened, and Kurt said, “Hey buddy, move it to the back seat.”
Ross dove over the seat, dragging the blanket in his wake. “Did you get the bad guys?”
“Yep,” Kurt said, settling into the car. “Now buckle up.” He turned to her. “You too.”
She did as Kurt requested but refrained from looking at him. If he saw her face, he’d see how tough it was for her to meet his son.
“Did you all get acquainted?”
Ross piped up. “Her name’s Lisa, and she didn’t have a mother or a dad when she was a little girl.”
Kurt chuckled. “It’s Liesl. Miss Liesl to you. And she’s an old friend of mine.”
“Did she see you play football?”
“She did. All of my games.”
All but one. Because of that one night, there was a little boy named Ross in the back seat.
Chapter Seven
Suzanne
March 12, 1961
Suzanne rarely begged, but she needed her mother’s car for hauling supplies and decorations to Winnie’s house. Winnie expected party attendees to decorate. After several minutes of bickering and eliciting Suzanne’s promise to return the car before noon, her mother handed over the keys. With a false tone of humility, Suzanne thanked her and silently prayed for her own car one day, even if it was a jalopy like her brother’s car. Anything to keep from having to plead a vehicle from her mother.
At Winnie’s house, cars and trucks of various ages and colors dotted the long driveway. At a glance, she associated owner names to most of the conveyances outside the home, including bicycles, similar to the way she knew who was home by the shoes at the back door. That was small-town life. If you spotted an unknown vehicle, it must belong to someone new to town or a stranger passing through.
She was leaning deep into the trunk of the car, wrestling with an uncooperative, oversized box, when someone shouted.
“Suzanne, stop. You’re making me laugh. I’ll get it for you.”
The offer from her soon-to-be savior made her smile. “Edgar!” She abandoned the struggle. “You’re a lifesaver.”
He grinned as he approached. A ball cap covered his hair, but he wore no coat or jacket to protect him from the cold.
“You’re gonna freeze. I know you gave your letter jacket to Winnie, but don’t you own other coats?”
He chuckled. “Sure, but I only ran outside to throw something in my truck, not stay in this arctic wonderland.” He reached into the trunk and lifted the awkward box with ease. “Now, if you would, I’ll take this straight up to the third floor.” He peered at her over the box. “Assuming that’s where it goes.”
“Yes. Thank you. I’ll just grab these two smaller boxes, and that does it.”
“Is Myron coming to help?”
She shrugged. “He left the house before I pried mother’s car keys out of her hands. As the annoying little sister, the less I know, the happier he is.”
“He’s constantly saying you don’t rat him out. He appreciates your silence.”
“Must be why he keeps me in the dark. The less I know, the less I’m tempted to tell.”
“Maybe.”
When they crossed the snowy yard to the front sidewalk, she spotted someone she didn’t recognize standing near the street corner. It was a man. Older. Wearing a brown hat. Dressed in a well-used overcoat and pants. A laborer?
Before she could ask Edgar if he knew him, he asked her a question.
“He’s coming to the party, isn’t he?”
“Who? That man?”
“What man?”
She gestured with her head toward the general direction of the man near the street.
Edgar glanced at him and chuckled. “No. I was talking about your brother. Is he coming tonight?”
“I guess so. Mother wants him to, and she’s usually the deciding vote.” After a pause, she asked, “Who’s that man?”
Edgar eyed him. “I don’t think I’ve seen him before.” Then he climbed the porch stairs.
She followed him and opened the front door of the three-story Craftsman-style house. It was a charming place, perfect for the party. The dancing would occur in the third-floor attic space.
Winnie’s mother waved at her from her seat at the dining room table. Spread out in front of her were varying shades of pink, red, and green tissue paper. By the look of things, she was constructing paper flowers.
Winnie’s family was going to decorate the downstairs for the time of eating cake and giving presents. Teenagers would decorate the attic they’d claim for the rest of the evening.
Elvis Presley was crooning, “It’s Now or Never,” when Suzanne and Edgar reached the summit of the stairs. The number of people scurrying around doing chores amazed her.
Winnie had already organized groups. She had a future in management or event planning. She possessed the ability to make young men fall at her feet to do her bidding, and gals appreciated her suggestions of improvement. A collection of the more athletic guys was shifting boxes and old furniture into the corners of the room while Winnie supervised. She waved at Suzanne and returned to bossing around the fellas. Once the primary space was cleared, decorating could begin.
A year’s dust had accumulated in the attic since last year’s shindig. Several groups, mostly girls, currently attacked this issue. Doreen seemed in charge of one group.
The four corners of the attic had roof rafters that slanted from ceiling to floor. They were hazards for head hitting. The center of the floor, however, was amazing because of the vaulted ceiling. Each side of the attic had two windows, filling the space with light until sundown. At night, some people used the dark corners for requisite smooching and handholding. So far, no one had ever invited Suzanne into a corner.
Standing near one corner, not even pretending to work, was her pal Patricia. She wore a round, pale green skirt, crisp white blouse, and a wool sweater draped across her shoulders. The rest of them wore jeans and sweatshirts, clothes suitable for labor. Patricia stood alone, peering at the workers as if they were a science experiment she monitored.
Patricia’s lack of exertion needed to be rectified, so Suzanne moved toward her, planning what actions to take. Edgar’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Where do you want this, Suzanne?” He stood in the middle of the chaos, balancing the box.
She pointed at a table near Patricia. “Why don’t we put Patricia to work?”
He winked at her and moved to the table.
Patricia stared at the box as if it were something to fear. When Edgar placed it on the table, she stepped to the side, as if to leave.
Edgar grinned at Patricia, which caused her to hesitate then flash her brightest smile.
“No flirting,” Suzanne said. “You don’t get to make eyes at Edgar, my dear. You and I are in charge of the contents of that box.” She turned to Edgar. “Thanks for your help.”
“Anytime.”
They watched him go, then Suzanne turned to Patricia. “So, even though it was you who broke up with him, you still like him?”
“No, I just can’t resist smiling at a handsome man, even if he isn’t the man for me.”
“How long have you been doing nothing, watching everyone else work?”
Patricia glanced at her wristwatch then crossed her arms, readying for a fight. “You just got here yourself. It’s not like you’ve been slaving away for hours.”
“It took hours to convince Mother to loan me her car. That’s different from being here and pretending work is beneath you.”
Patricia frowned. “It’s not that work is beneath me, it’s that I’m not willing to get dirty.”
“Nor are you dressed for it. For heaven’s sake, don’t you own a pair of jeans?”
Patricia stared at Suzanne as if she’d asked her to go fishing. “You should have called me. I would have picked you up, and whatever things you needed to bring.”
“I didn’t think about it. I forget you have your own car. Lucky girl. I’ll have to make a habit of asking you for a ride.”
Patricia smiled and relaxed her arms. “And what a car it is too. I love it. Call me anytime. I mean it.”
“Who wouldn’t want to ride in a 1961 white Ford Thunderbird convertible with red leather seats? How silly of me.”
“That’s right, and don’t you forget it.” Patricia’s fingers danced through her perfect hair, then she gestured toward the table. “So, what are we doing with this box?”
“Winnie asked me to bring the decorations from my birthday party. This attic is gigantic. She thought we could use my stuff on and around the punch and cookie table.” Suzanne waved her arms. “It was serendipitous to find you standing so close to what will be the punch and cookie table.”
She opened the box, and they worked to decorate the area until a loud noise startled them. They both whirled to see what happened.
Angry voices came from the far side of the room. Ray Thompson, one of the senior classmen, reach down and picked up a wooden ladder off the floor. The guy next to him appeared to shove someone in front of him. She couldn’t see who was pushed because a crowd had gathered.
