Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes
Page 65

“I’m gonna die.”
I wasn’t dead yet, but apparently, I was scared witless because I just stood there, as if I waited for Daniel Crocker to change his mind and come back and take me with him.
Snap out of it, Rose. Move.
I needed to get it together. I had a little over twenty-four hours to come up with a flash drive.
Chapter Nineteen
I went back to the Magnolia Room and sat in a rickety folding chair in the rear. I’m not ashamed to admit I bawled my eyes out. I got a few stares, but I figured I was at a wake, it felt like an appropriate place to cry. An elderly woman brought me a box of tissues and patted my back.
“There, there child. It's the way of life, from ashes to ashes and dust to dust. It was Sloan’s time to go.”
It was Sloan’s time to go.
Was it my time to go? I didn't have a flash drive to give to Daniel Crocker. I had no idea what was supposed to be on the flash drive. Maybe I should go to the police.
“Let me get this straight, Ms. Gardner. Your mother and a bartender were killed all because of a flash drive a customer who showed up at the DMV asked for. And what is supposed to be on this flash drive?”
The police were out.
I was out of my league here. I had no idea what to do or who to turn to. And then I did. Joe. He’d offered to help me before. Maybe he could help me now.
I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and saw I had missed five calls and one message from Joe.
Rose, please call me back. Please. I have to talk to you.
I moved to the lobby and dialed Joe’s number. He picked up on the first ring.
“Oh, thank God. Where are you?”
“I’m at Sloan’s visitation.”
“You’re what?” His voice was cold. “You told me you hardly knew him.”
“I told you we had a dealing. I still hardly knew him.”
“Then what are you doin’ there?”
Getting accosted. “I don’t know Joe. It seemed like the right thing to do.” To my irritation, my tears started flowing again.
“Rose, are you alright?” His voice softened.
It made me cry even harder. “No.”
“Stay there. Let me come get you.”
I wanted to protest, to insist I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself, but I had been as brave as I could for the moment. I started to sob again.
“I’m comin’. Don’t leave. Just wait for me there.” His words were rushed, like he was already running out the door.
I found a chair in the lobby and wept in fear as I faced the inevitability of my death. Sunday had seemed so far away, but it was right around the corner. Would it hurt when I was shot in the head? I’d been so worried about leaving life, I hadn’t given much thought to the dying part. I cried even harder, slumped over in the chair, my face on my knees making the hem of my dress wet with tears and snot.
I felt hands around my arms, pulling me up and I couldn’t stop the shriek. I jerked away, wild and desperate. Daniel Crocker had changed his mind and came back to get me.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Joe said, pulling me up. “You’re okay.”
I collapsed into his chest, sobbing.
“Come on, let me take you home.”
He led me out the front door. He put his arm around my back, supporting me. I got in the front seat of his car and barely remembered the drive home, just his hand pulling my head to his shoulder, his hand on mine.
When we parked in the driveway, he took my purse and dug out my keys then got out and opened the door. I’d gotten out of the car at that point, stumbling in the dark and the gravel. He came over and picked me up with little effort, carrying me through the door. He kicked it closed behind him and placed me on my bed.
He leaned over, stroking my head, then kissed my cheek. “I’m gonna take Muffy out. I’ll be right back.”
I cried harder. What would happen to Muffy? I still hadn’t made arrangements for her.
Before I realized Joe had been gone very long, he was there, laying on the bed with me, his stomach to my back. When I finally calmed down, he handed me tissues from my nightstand.
I rolled onto my back and looked up at him.
He rubbed my cheek, looking down into my face. “As flattered as I’d be if you were this upset over me not showing up at the restaurant, I suspect this is about something else.”
I bit my lower lip looking up into his kind eyes. Could I trust him? “Remember when you asked me if I was in trouble?”
A variety of emotions crossed his face before he answered. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t tell me.”
I paused, still unsure where to start. Maybe I could start with the DMV and leave out the vision. “The day before Momma died, a man came into the DMV. I’d never seen him before.” How did I explain the next part without giving away my freak show? “He thought I recognized him. I didn't feel well and I fainted.” All of that was true. I just left the vision part out. “He left, but without his paper work, which I thought was really weird. The next night Momma was killed.”
Joe watched my face intently, a little too intently to suit me. What did he hope to hear?
I paused to regroup. Maybe this wasn't a good idea, after all. But how did I get out of it without looking like I was hiding something?
“You said you had a dealing with Sloan Chapman. What kind of dealing did you have?”
“I went to Jaspers on my date with Steve. Only Steve didn't really want to be there. So I went to the restroom and when I came back, he’d left. He told the waitress he didn’t feel well, but he paid for my dinner and for my cab ride home.”