Heartbreaker (Buchanan-Renard #1)

Heartbreaker (Buchanan-Renard #1) Page 23

The rocking chair was really moving now, the floor creaking beneath it.

“And the vet followed those instructions without consulting you?”

“Yes, he did,” Viola said. “It just never occurred to him to check with us first.”

“Your nephew—”

“But that’s just it,” Bessie Jean cried out. “We don’t have any nephews.”

“If you ask me, the culprit wanted to get rid of the evidence,” Viola said. “Isn’t that right?”

“It would seem so,” he agreed. “I’d like to look at those flowers.”

“Oh, you can’t do that, dear,” Viola said. “Justin helped me dig out the roots and plant new flowers. He saw me out there, down on my knees, struggling so, and even after the hard day he’d put in doing carpentry work up at the abbey, he was kind enough to come over and help me. I simply can’t keep up with the yard anymore.”

“And who is Justin?”

“Justin Brady,” Bessie Jean answered, impatiently. “I do believe I already mentioned him.”

“No, you didn’t,” Viola said. “You told Nicholas that three workmen moved into the Morrison house and two others lived with the Nicholsons. You didn’t say their names. I heard every word you said as clear as a bell.”

“Well, I meant to,” Bessie Jean replied. “I’ve only met the three across the street. There’s Justin Brady. He’s the only one we like.”

“Because he helped me,” Viola said. “And then there’s Mark Hanover and Willie Lakeman. They were all sitting on the porch steps together drinking beer, and all of them saw me struggling, but Justin’s the only one who crossed the street to help me. The other two kept on drinking.”

“Well, young man, do you believe Daddy was murdered, or do you think we’re just a couple of dotty old ladies making up stories?”

“Based on what you’ve told me, and assuming that it’s accurate, I agree that your dog was killed,” Nick said.

Laurant’s eyes widened. “You do?”

“Yes,” he answered.

Bessie Jean clasped her hands together. She was elated. “I knew the FBI wouldn’t fail me. Now tell me, Nicholas, what are you prepared to do about it?”

“I’m going to look into this myself. Some samples of the soil where those flowers were planted would help. And the water bowl . . . you do still have it, don’t you?”

“Yes, we do,” Viola said. “It’s packed away in the garage with all of Daddy’s favorite toys.”

“Will you keep us apprised of developments?” Bessie Jean asked.

“I most certainly will. You didn’t happen to wash that water bowl, did you?”

“I don’t believe we did,” Viola said. “We were so upset, we just put it away so we wouldn’t be . . . reminded.”

“Viola wanted to take the painting down and pack up the pictures, but I wouldn’t let her do it. It’s a comfort having Daddy smiling down at us.”

In unison, everyone paused to look up at the oil painting. While Nick was wondering how the women could tell that the dog was smiling, Laurant was pondering how the sisters could feel such affection for the nasty-tempered animal that snapped at everyone who came into the yard. He’d bitten so many people, the vet kept his shot record posted on the waiting room bulletin board.

“We do hope the culprit turns out to be someone from outside our peaceful valley. We don’t like to think that one of our own could do such a terrible thing,” Viola said.

“I wouldn’t put such cruelty past the sheriff’s boy. Lonnie’s always been trouble. The boy’s got a real mean streak inside him that runs deep. He gets it from his father, of course.”

“He’s a sneaky one all right. His mother passed on several years ago. I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, but she was a mousy woman. She didn’t have any backbone at all, not even when she was a young girl. She was a whiner too, wasn’t she, Bessie Jean?”

“My yes, she was.”

“You said there were a lot of strangers in town,” Nick said. “Have you noticed anyone hanging around your house or Laurant’s?”

“I spend a good deal of my time sitting on my porch and I will occasionally look out the windows at night, just to make certain things are as right as they should be. Except for the man I saw going into Laurant’s house yesterday, I haven’t noticed anyone in the yard or lurking about. Like I said before, most of the strangers are workmen helping out at the abbey. Some of them come from as far away as Nebraska and Kansas.”

She planted both feet on the floor and brought the rocker to an abrupt stop. Leaning toward Nick and Laurant expectantly, she asked, “You’ll stay to supper?”

“It’s macaroni night,” Viola announced as she pushed against the cushions with both hands to raise herself out of the low chair and then headed for the kitchen. “Macaroni and brisket and homemade cinnamon rolls, and I’ll make company salad.”

“We don’t want to put you to any trouble,” Laurant protested.

“We’d love to join you,” Nick said at the same time.

“Laurant, why don’t you help Sister, and I’ll keep Nicholas company,” Bessie Jean suggested.

“Come and set the table, dear,” Viola said. “We’ll eat in the kitchen, but we’ll use the Spode.”

Bessie Jean didn’t waste any time. As soon as Laurant disappeared, she leaned even farther out of the rocker and demanded to know how Nick and Laurant had become so friendly.

He’d been waiting for the opportunity. In the barest of details, he told her about his friendship with Tommy and how he had been called in to help when a man came into the confessional and threatened to harm Laurant.

“The unfortunate incident brought us together,” he explained. “Our experts are all in agreement that the man was just a blowhard out to get some kicks. You know the kind. He wants to scare people, to stir up things and cause trouble. He wants attention, that’s all. They figure he’s not real bright. He probably has a low IQ,” he added, “and is most likely impotent.”

Bessie Jean blushed. “Impotent, you say?”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s what they figure he is.”

“Then you didn’t come here to investigate Daddy’s murder?”

He’d wondered how long it would take her to figure that out. “No, but I’m going to look into it all the same,” he promised.

She sat back in the rocker. “Tell me a bit about your background, Nicholas.”

She wouldn’t let him skim over it. She drilled him with the expertise of a master interrogator. She wanted to know everything about his family too.

Laurant saved him by appearing in the doorway and calling them to dinner. Nick followed Bessie Jean into the kitchen. The delicate, flowered china rested on a white linen tablecloth that almost completely covered the chrome legs of the kitchen table. Nick charmed the ladies with his gentlemanly manners by rushing to pull out their chairs for them. They beamed with pleasure.

Company salad turned out to be a square of lime Jell-O nestled on a bed of iceberg lettuce with a dab of mayonnaise on top. He hated Jell-O, but he ate it anyway so he wouldn’t hurt their feelings, and while he was gulping it down, Bessie Jean filled Viola in on the incident that occurred in Kansas City.

“The things people will do for attention these days. Terrible, just terrible. Father Tom must have been very upset.”

“Oh, he was,” Laurant said. “He wasn’t sure what to do, so he called Nick for help.”

“Something good came out of it,” Nick said. He winked at Laurant across the table and added, “I finally met Tommy’s sister.”

“And you were taken with her, weren’t you?” Bessie Jean nodded, as though stating a foregone conclusion.

“Of course he was,” Viola said. “She’s the prettiest girl in Holy Oaks.”

“It was love at first sight,” he told them, casting an adoring look at Laurant. “I didn’t believe in that stuff until it happened to me.”

“And you, Laurant?” Viola asked. “Was it love at first sight for you as well?”

“Yes, it was,” she answered breathlessly.

“How romantic,” Viola said. “Don’t you think it’s romantic, Bessie Jean?”

“Of course it’s romantic,” Bessie Jean said. “But sometimes fires that start fast burn out fast. I wouldn’t want our Laurant to get her heart broken. Do you understand what I’m saying, Nicholas?”

“Yes, ma’am, I do, but it isn’t like that.”

“Then tell me, what are your intentions?”

“I’m going to marry her.”

Viola and Bessie Jean looked at each other and then burst into laughter.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Sister?” Bessie Jean chuckled.

“I’m just sure I am.” Viola gave her sister a knowing smile.

“This is thrilling news,” Bessie Jean announced. “I assume Father Tom has given his blessing?”

“Yes, he has,” Laurant replied. “He’s very happy for us.”

Laurant and Nick looked at each other, puzzled by the ladies’ laughter.

“Nicholas, we weren’t laughing over your wonderful news. It’s just . . . ,” Viola began.

“Steve Brenner,” Bessie Jean supplied. “He’s going to have a tantrum when he finds out about you two. Oh my, yes, and I do so hope Sister and I are there to see it happen. Mr. Brenner has grand plans for you, Laurant.”

“I’ve never even gone out with the man, and I don’t believe I did anything to encourage his attention.”

“He’s infatuated, dear,” Viola explained.

“No, he’s obsessed,” Bessie Jean corrected. “You’re the prettiest girl in Holy Oaks, so he’s got to have you. He thinks that having the best of everything will make him the best man in town. That’s why he bought the big old house over on Sycamore. If you ask me, Mr. Brenner’s nothing but a big old rooster, strutting around town.” She turned to Nick. “He thinks he can take anything he wants, including your Laurant.”

“Then he’s in for a surprise, isn’t he?” Nick asked.

Bessie Jean smiled. “My, yes, he is,” she agreed. “You may have noticed that Sister and I don’t have a high opinion of the man.”

Nick laughed. “I noticed.”

“Everyone else likes him just fine,” Viola said. “We know why too. Mr. Brenner donates money to all the local charities, and that makes people appreciative. He isn’t a bad-looking fellow either. He has a nice head of hair.”

Bessie Jean scowled disdainfully. “I’m not so easily impressed. I don’t care for showy people, and Mr. Brenner throws money around like it’s grass seed. I’m going to lose my appetite if we keep talking about him. Now, Laurant, is your engagement official, or do you want us to keep quiet about it? We can keep a secret when we have to,” she assured her.

“You may tell anyone you want to tell. Nick and I are going to be looking for an engagement ring tomorrow or the day after.” She was brimming with excitement as she put her hand out and wiggled her fingers. “I don’t want anything too big.”

“Don’t forget to put the announcement in the paper. I could help you with that,” Bessie Jean suggested.

From the eagerness in Bessie Jean’s voice and the glint in her eyes, Laurant knew she was dying to give the news to her friend’s daughter, Lorna Hamburg, who just happened to be the editor of the society page.

“I could ring Lorna up right after supper.”

“That would be very helpful,” Laurant agreed.

“Should I mention the problem in Kansas City?”

Laurant wasn’t sure and looked at Nick who quickly answered. “Of course you should mention it. The editor will probably want to know all the details of how we met. Right, sweetheart?”

The endearment wasn’t planned. It just slipped out, and he was more surprised than she appeared to be.

“Yes, darling. I think Bessie Jean should also tell Little Lorna that the FBI experts have concluded that they’re dealing with a man who’s obviously disturbed . . . and inferior.”

“Oh, she’ll be sure to tell Little Lorna everything,” Viola said. She passed the platter of brisket to Nick, insisting that he take a second helping. Nick pushed his chair back, patted his full stomach, and told her that he couldn’t eat another bite.

“There are so many disturbed people in the world today,” Bessie Jean remarked with a shake of her head. “It will be a comfort to know an FBI agent is close by.”

“Where exactly will you be staying?” Viola asked.

“With Laurant,” he answered. “She’s a strong woman, and she can take care of herself, but I want to be there to help make sure she’s safe from men like Steve Brenner and anyone else who thinks he’s going to bother her.”

The sisters both raised their eyebrows and shared a look that Nick couldn’t interpret. He’d said something they didn’t like, but he didn’t know what it was.

Bessie Jean put her fork down, pushed her plate back, then folded her hands on the table and collected her thoughts for a moment before turning to look directly at Laurant.

“Dear, I’m going to be blunt. I know a thing or two about raging hormones in young bodies. I may be old and set in my ways, but I keep up with the changing times by watching my stories on the television. Now, you don’t have a mother or a father to guide you. Oh, I know you’re an adult, but you still need someone who’s older and wiser to counsel you every now and then. Every young woman does. Sister and I have grown quite fond of you, and with that fondness comes worry. Now, I’m going to ask you straight out. While Nicholas is busy protecting you from other men, how do you propose to protect yourself from him?”

“She’s talking about your virtue, dear,” Viola said.

“We’ve made a commitment to one another,” Nick began. “I won’t do anything . . . dishonorable . . . and neither will Laurant.”

“People will talk, but they’ll do it behind your backs,” Viola told him.

“They’ll talk anyway,” Bessie Jean said. “The best intentions sometimes get pushed to the side of the road in the heat of the moment. Do you understand what I’m saying?”