Aloe and Goodbye, page 18
“Allie and I don’t want to leave here, but Victor is insisting on it.”
“I won’t tell anyone where you are. No one. I promise I won’t tell. You’re my sister, after all.”
I wasn’t convinced I could trust her. Was it worth risking our lives to stay in Paradise? I wasn’t sure. I wished Claudia would do the right thing for once in her life, but I couldn’t be sure that she would. We had a community I hoped would protect us, and Darla knew we were in WITSEC at least for the time being. But would they be enough to keep us safe if we decided to stay? If we chose to stay, would we have to leave WITSEC? I had a sinking feeling the answer to that last question was yes.
Claudia and I grasped hands through the bars one last time. It would be the end. I would never see her again. I turned my back and walked away. Like Allie, I wiped away a tear, hoping no one saw me do it.
Darla offered me a ride back to Paradise, and I accepted. We were quiet in the car for a long time. Finally, Darla spoke.
“First, I’ve got to say, you’re an outstanding actor. I had no idea you were in WITSEC. I wish I’d known, it would have made things much easier on all of us, but I get it—it’s part of the deal. You’ve got to take on a new persona.”
“Thanks. It’s been really hard on me. I wanted to tell you. Victor thought you must’ve known.”
“I’m afraid not. Sheriff Ross has been dropping a lot of balls lately. He’s biding his time until he can retire. He hasn’t really cared about much of what’s been happening on his watch for a while, especially up in little old Paradise.”
“Victor said a new marshal will be getting in touch with us, so Allie and I can move. I’m just sick about it. Allie will be crushed when I tell her we have to relocate.”
“I know. I don’t want you to go either,” Darla said warmly, while keeping her eye on the road. “By the way, what the heck did you do to your sister’s hands?”
“Um, I threw a barrel cactus at her,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief that I’d actually used a plant in self-defense.
“Whew! You are some sort of badass. I hope you’ll tell me your real story someday.”
“I don’t know if that’ll happen. The marshal is coming, and then we’ll be gone.”
Twenty minutes later, Darla pulled up to the curb outside of Flora’s shop.
“You want me to wait?”
“No, I think this might take a while, and we can walk home from here. It’ll do us good,” I said.
“You’ve got this,” Darla said, her hand outstretched in a wave. “Take care.”
Allie wasn’t the only one who would lose a friend when we moved.
I found Allie with Flora on the back deck, a plate of elaborately decorated cupcakes sat on a table between them.
When Allie saw me, she threw herself at me and squeezed me in a hug harder than she ever had.
“I was worried I’d never see you again,” Allie sobbed into my chest. Flora came up behind her and gathered us both up in a hug.
“Shh,” I said. “Of course, I was coming back. I’d never leave you.” It was all I could do to not break down crying, myself. I took a deep breath and let out a rattling sigh.
“What you need is dessert,” Flora said, grabbing me by the elbow and guiding me to a chair next to a plate of cupcakes. “We spent hours making these. Pretty nifty, don’t you think? I’ve always thought cupcakes have healing powers.”
I was glad they’d decided to make cupcakes instead of dabbling with explosives. I was sure they’d attempt that another day, if we stayed much longer.
“They do?”
“Yep.” Allie picked up the plate and held it out to me. These were the prettiest chocolate cupcakes I’d ever seen. Each one had been piped with different colors of green frosting to make the most realistic succulent designs. They were almost too gorgeous to eat. “Come on. Pick one!”
I chose the one closest to me with a silver-gray rosette on the top. After pulling back the paper baking cup, I took a bite.
“Oh wow! These are delicious!” I took another bite. Bits of frosting squished through my fingers and crumbs hit the ground. Boomer arrived to clean up the mess.
“Oh no, Boomer, come on, let’s get you a treat—chocolate’s a big no-no for pooches!” Flora traipsed off to the kitchen and Boomer followed.
“You were brilliant to get my hint about going to find Darla. Not everyone would have caught that.”
“How could I miss you calling Boomer by the wrong name? I mean, really Mom, Marlin is nowhere close to the name Boomer.”
“Good job. You guys saved the day.” I gave her a high five, smearing chocolate frosting on both of our hands. We giggled as we licked the mess off our fingers.
“What was Aunt Claudia doing here? I thought no one knew where we were.”
“Victor brought her over once to say goodbye to me. He shouldn’t have done it. But now we …” I took a deep, calming breath. I had to be strong. “We’ve got to leave, sweetheart.”
“I know,” Allie took my hand and squeezed it tight.
“Flora doesn’t know our real story, so we should talk about it more when we get home,” I croaked, the lump in my throat made it difficult to continue.
It broke my heart to realize we would need to leave Flora without an explanation. She’d never know what happened to us, and we’d never be able to be in touch with her again.
Flora returned a few minutes later with Boomer crunching happily on a cracker.
“Thanks so much for watching after my kiddo,” I said, pulling Flora into a hug.
“Don’t get all mushy on me. I’m just happy you’re both okay. Seems like there are some mighty strange happenings around town,” Flora said, giving us an odd smile. If she had any idea what had happened tonight, she wasn’t letting on. I was unsure of what, if anything, I could tell Flora, but she wasn’t asking questions, so I let it slide.
“You two better skedaddle, it’s late,” Flora said. “I’ll hold onto these cupcakes. If I get peckish I might need a midnight snack. But you come back tomorrow, I promise there’ll be some left.”
It was a melancholy walk through the town we’d called home for these last couple of weeks. We walked past the Stramtussle Animal Rescue and Thrift Shop and Bette’s Place. The cool sage-scented breeze soothed me. Off in the distance, coyotes yipped. Allie and I turned to each other, mouths agape—we’d never get over our excitement of that strange far-off keening. Turning the corner at the switchback, we completed the last leg of the sad journey to our house. Our house, our home—but not for much longer.
Neither of us said much when we arrived home. I found some clean jammies for Allie, and I got into a nightshirt. We snuggled on the couch, wrapped in the colorful throw blankets I’d purchased on one of our first days in town. We watched a silly game show on television until we were both so tired we couldn’t keep our eyes open. I helped my dear daughter off to bed, then I crawled into my own, falling asleep before my head even hit the pillow.
TWENTY-FOUR
Once I was up in the morning, still groggy from a fitful night’s sleep, I made coffee so strong it could have peeled paint. With Allie still asleep, I took my mug and went down to the backyard. The back porch was a mess from the broken pot and cactus I’d thrown at my sister. I put the chunks of pottery on the potting table, then gingerly scooped my barrel cactus into the canvas bag Luke had put it in when he’d given it to me.
A row of antique bottles with succulent cuttings in them stood in a neat row along the porch rail. I couldn’t take them with me, but perhaps Luke would come and get them. But how would I tell him? And what could I say to him about why we had to leave? Leaving Luke was one more loss I’d have to suffer.
But it wasn’t just Luke. It was all the rest of the people we’d met in town. Some I had no problem leaving behind—Sam Ferrell and Henry Villanueva came to mind. I was going to miss Bette and her constant questions, and Flora, though Allie would miss her the most. I’d miss Darla. Since she was law enforcement, there might be a way to stay in touch with her. But it would never be the same.
Our new marshal, Sarah Palmer, called while I was in the yard, which was perfectly fine with me. Allie wouldn’t hear the conversation that way.
“Victor Wilson filled me in on your case. Are you ready to go?” Marshal Palmer asked, a smooth efficiency in her voice.
“We can be ready in a few hours,” I said, trying my best to set my emotions aside.
We’d done everything to stay under the radar and had failed spectacularly. Our move would set us back to square one—a new town, new school, new neighbors, and new job—a discouraging list of challenges we’d have to tackle once again.
Once Allie was up, it was clear she realized what moving to a new town would mean, and had withdrawn into her shell once again. She was silent when I broke the news to her that the new marshal would arrive soon. I quietly helped her pack her things. I had already finished packing my few belongings. Much of what we’d accumulated we were leaving behind, but not my beautiful handmade quilts. I carefully folded and packed them into a handled paper bag. They were the one artful touch I’d added to the house I couldn’t part with.
Marshal Sarah Palmer arrived at two o’clock. Her perfectly pressed black pants and crisp white shirt spoke volumes. She nodded hello to each of us as she removed her sunglasses and stepped inside.
“Ready to go?” she asked, with calm, emotionless professionalism. She didn’t engage in much small talk as we loaded our luggage into her nondescript white car waiting at the curb. Boomer jumped in the back seat with Allie. We weren’t going to leave him behind. We’d just have to find a new home that allowed dogs, and we’d need a place that would allow me to continue gardening. I stashed the canvas bag with the small barrel cactus in it next to my duffel bag.
Sarah started to pull a U-turn in the street, heading down the hill toward Wendlewood.
“Mom, can we stop at Flora’s for a minute?” Allie asked.
“It’s up to Marshal Palmer. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” she said as she kept eyes on the road, not even asking us why Allie wanted to do that. I missed Victor. He would have made some sort of wisecrack right about now. I couldn’t expect that from this new marshal.
We gave her directions to Flora’s.
When our car pulled up to the curb, Allie jumped out and sprinted into the shop. Coming out moments later, Allie held Flora by the hand.
“Can we bring her with us?” Allie asked.
“You two are leaving?” Flora looked from me to Allie, a puzzled expression on her face. “I can’t come with you. This is my home right here. It’s not about the roof over my head. It’s about where my heart is. Where my friends are. Where I can be my best self.”
Flora’s words rang true. She knew where she belonged. She knew what made her happy. I wanted the same things for Allie and me.
“Excuse us for a moment, Flora,” I said to her from the open passenger side window. “Allie, sweetheart, can you get back in the car?”
Allie scrambled into the back seat. I turned to Sarah Palmer. “Can you please take us home? Allie and I need more time to think about our decision.”
Sarah nodded. She’d clearly seen this play out before.
“Sorry to bother you,” I shouted to Flora. She waved at us, her face slack, as the marshal’s car pulled away from the curb. Minutes later, we were back at our house. Boomer was the first to leap from the car, dancing around us as we got out. He was at least as excited as we were to be back home.
“I’ll call you tomorrow for your answer,” Sarah said as she helped us unload our bags from the trunk. “Given the circumstances of your case, you will need to leave WITSEC if you decide to stay here.”
“I understand,” I said, taking Allie’s hand and squeezing it.
Marshal Palmer left just as quickly as she’d arrived without much more than a goodbye. I had to admit it, I missed Victor.
Back in our house, Allie and I sat on the sofa, thunderstruck by what had happened. I had a huge decision to make. Should we stay in WITSEC? If we did, the marshals would move us, and perhaps move us again if we couldn’t stay out of trouble. We’d likely be safer if we stayed in witness protection, but would we be happier? I had to agree with Flora—we should be where we could be our best selves.
But where could we be our best selves? Where were our friends and our hearts? If we left WITSEC, we could live wherever I wanted. We could choose Paradise as our new hometown.
“Are we going to stay?” Allie asked, looking at me with bright, expectant eyes.
“Maybe. Or, we could go back to New York. You could go back to your old school. I could start painting again,” I said, glancing her way. “It would be like it was.”
But I liked the new me—the new us. I’d watched Allie blossom in Paradise. Who knew what a move back to our old lives would bring? Ultimately, we both wanted to stay, not just because of who we had become, but because of who we’d found and brought into our lives. Sure, some problems and personalities meant small-town life had its ups and downs, but any place we lived would have its own challenges.
A part of me thought this little town wasn’t as safe as it should be. Even with my help, Darla hadn’t been able to find out who had killed Mrs. Stramtussle and Mrs. Heard. That, along with feeling that someone was out to frame me for the murders of those two women, made me want to leave.
Would a move still be our best bet—with or without WITSEC?
My thoughts were interrupted by a frantic pounding on the front door.
When I opened my door, I was surprised to find a panting Derek Stramtussle standing outside. He bent over, hands on knees, trying to catch his breath.
“Ruby, you have to help me,” he said between pants.
“What’s happened?”
“I’ve got a tour in an hour and a half, and Bette’s going to kill me.”
“Kill you? Why?”
“Because I forgot she’d made an appointment for us—something to do with our marriage. I’d stay and do the tour with you, but Bette’s set us up to meet with some sort of wedding planner. I mean, what is there to plan?” Derek had a lot to learn. I’d never been married, but I knew a wedding didn’t just happen without a little bit of attention and planning.
“Ah, I see.” I didn’t really see, but it seemed like the correct response.
“You don’t understand. Bette is so excited about the wedding. I can’t miss this appointment. She’d be furious.”
“Well, we can’t have that, can we?”
“So! You’ll do it?”
“What? Do what?”
“Lead the tour, of course.”
“Wait, no, I wasn’t saying—”
“Ruby, truly, this means the world to me, to both Bette and me. Have you memorized the script?”
“Yes,” I said, which was a lie. I’d read through it once.
“Excellent! I knew you wouldn’t let me down. Here are the keys to the building,” he said, pressing a key ring into my hand. “You’ll find a costume in the closet in the office.”
“Really, because …”
“You’ll be fine. It’s just a small family group. I promise I’ll pay you extra for this. The tour starts at six.”
Bette bustled up behind Derek and barged right past him.
“I found my ring in the coffee maker!” she said waggling her fingers in front of me.
“I’m so glad. I’m really sorry about the other night—”
“Ah, sugar, I’m the one who’s sorry. I was all worked up over my missing ring,” Bette threw her arms around me in a hug.
“About Greta’s ring—”
“It’s all good. I know you didn’t have anything to do with Greta’s ring. But how did that ring get there? And where’s the ring now?”
Bette always had more questions than answers.
She and Derek rushed off, smiling and waving as they got in the car.
I gave them a thumbs-up as they sped off to their appointment.
TWENTY-FIVE
I didn’t have much time to prepare for the tour, and I needed a place for Allie to stay since I’d be out quite late. Allie had been begging to have a sleepover at Lucy’s, so I called Meg to see if that was an option.
“Of course, we’d love to have her,” Meg said when I explained that I needed her help while I covered one of her brother’s tours. “I’ve got an extra sleeping bag, so just bring Allie and her pajamas.”
Once we arrived at Meg’s, Allie ran off with Lucy. Their excited squeals brought a smile to my face.
“Good luck with the tour tonight,” Meg said. “What’s up with my brother, why can’t he do the tour?”
“He has some sort of wedding planning appointment.”
Meg snorted with laughter.
“What? I don’t get it.”
“I swear, Derek has been over the moon since Bette finally said yes. It really must be true love if she got him to go see a wedding planner!”
“They seem like such an odd couple. Sorry to be so bold.”
“Yeah, they’re funny. But love is love, right?” Meg held out her right hand to show me her ring.
“Oh! Your mother’s ring,” I said, taking her hand and admiring the ring closely. “It’s lovely. I’m glad you have it.”
“Me too,” Meg said, a note of sadness in her voice.
“I have my mother’s ring too,” I said holding up my hand so she could see my ring. “It’s made of silver from Mexico, and the stone is a ruby.”
“Just like your name. It’s beautiful,” Meg said with an appreciative nod.
“Thanks,” I said, giving her a hug. My ring was a reminder of the strong and loving connection I had with my mother. For Meg, I was certain her feelings were much more complex and conflicted than mine, but I hoped she could find a way to forgive her mother and wear the ring as a reminder of their bond. “Now, I’ve got to get a move on. I’m going to do a dry run of the tour before I do the real thing if I can swing it.”
I walked into town at half-pace, studying the tour script as I went, but I couldn’t focus on it. My mind returned to Meg’s mother’s—now Meg’s—ring. Who had placed that ring in the armchair at my house? Had someone broken in just to hide evidence? That seemed a little far-fetched, but I couldn’t figure out any other way.
