Jack’s on the phone next to the four-poster bed. He shakes his head. “No, ma’am, I don’t think mouth-to-mouth will do any good.” He gulps, clearly working to hang on to his pancakes and bacon. “Please, just send someone as fast as you can.”
With a shiver he scans his contacts in his phone then selects one of the entries. Tapping on the speaker he glances over at me. “I don’t think I can handle this one by myself, Em. You’ve got to do it for me.”
“Do what?” Clutching my head, I rub at the stabbing ache as the phone rings. At least now that I’m out of the bathroom, the ghastly stench has begun to dissipate.
“Beaumont Builder’s Development. How may I help you?” The receptionist’s voice is bright and bubbly. She sounds like she’s barely out of high school.
Oh no. Even if my head wasn’t threatening to explode, I wouldn’t want to make this call either. I shoot a pleading glance at Jack, but he shakes his head, his mouth turned down in desperation.
Ugh. Sometimes I hate my brother.
“Hello? Anyone there?” Bubbly asks again.
Raging migraine or not, it’s got to be done. At the very least, Beau needs the basic details, enough to get him home. I clear my throat. “Yes, um, this is Emma Guthrie at High Point Bluff. Is Beau there? It’s really important.”
“I’m sorry he’s out of the office for the morning. Can I take a message?”
“No, I’ve got to speak with him. It’s an emergency. Please?” I add for good measure, hoping she’ll pick up on my misery.
She sighs. “I’ll see if I can link you to his cell. Hang on.”
While we wait, Jack and I exchange looks and I glare hard enough to let him he owes me big time. Finally Beau gets on the line. “Emma, darling. To what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected, but very delightful call?” He chuckles the kind of laugh that makes my already queasy stomach twist.
I gulp. “I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s been an…accident.” My voice trembles.
“Accident? Good Lord, what’s Missy up to now?” His voice is a low growl. I can almost see the grimace that’s likely plastered across his thin lips. “What’d she do, knock down a wall or something?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. But you really need to come home. Now.” I could spit it all out, give him the gory details of what lies on his bathroom floor, but I can’t bring myself to do that, even to him. Although he and Missy have had their fair share of troubles lately, this kind of news is likely to bring on a heart attack, or make him crash his car on his way home, endangering innocent fellow drivers. Better that he gets here safely first. The sheriff can fill him in on the rest.
“I’m in the middle of a board meeting at The King Center. Can’t it wait?” He pauses. “It’s not your Daddy, is it?” For the first time ever, I detect a hint of genuine concern for my father.
“No, sir. It’s Missy.” My throat constricts, making it nearly impossible to utter the words. “An ambulance is on its way. And so is the sheriff.”
I can hear his anger simmering through the phone. “I’m about through with my wife’s accidents. You tell that ambulance to go on to the hospital without me. I’ll join up when I’m finished here. Or when I’m not so angry.”
Crud. He’s left me no choice. But how do you find the words to express something so horrible? “You don’t understand. She’s…gone.” My voice breaks. I wait for some response but he doesn’t say anything. Jeez, he’s going to make me explain. I take a deep breath. “As in not alive.”
“I’ll be right there.” The line goes dead.
Jack grasps my wrist. “Come on, we’ve got to get out of here.” He drags me out of the master bedroom.
“To where? We can’t leave. We have to wait for the ambulance.”
“We’re not going anywhere. There’s something we’ve got to take care of before they get here.”
My brain spins. “What?”
“Trust me.” Pulling me out into the hall he calls, “Cooper? Cooper!” Silence. He calls again. A few seconds later, a low murmur comes from Cooper’s room at the end of the hall.
Releasing his grip, Jack charges toward the sound. I follow. Cooper’s in his trashed room, huddled in the corner, a look of sheer terror on his face.
Jack kicks his way through the rubble on the floor. “Dude, you’ve got to pull it together. The ambulance is coming. And so are the sheriff and your dad. We’re going to have to talk to them.”
Cooper shakes his head. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. Just a jumble of strained sounds.
Jack turns to me. “Emma, we’ve got to straighten this room. Now.”
He wants to clean? Now? “Why? Who cares what the room looks like? Missy is dead.” I can’t believe I’ve got to remind him of that gruesome fact.
Cooper makes a wrenching sound.
“Exactly. Which is why we can’t let the police see it like this. If they realize Missy tore his room apart, they’re going to wonder why. And that will only end up raising their suspicions about Cooper.” He snatches an overturned dresser drawer and sets it onto its track, shoving it into place.
The logic clicks in my head, bringing everything into sharp focus. He’s right. In a sick way, it makes sense to think Cooper might retaliate for her wrecking the room, or to try and conceal whatever she might have found in here. Thank goodness High Point Bluff is in the boonies. It’ll take a few extra minutes for the ambulance and sheriff to arrive.
“Okay, but where do we start?” I will myself to ignore the headache that’s causing my left eye to pulse and twitch.
Jack throws his hands into the air. “Anywhere. Just bend down and pick up whatever you can. Hey, Coop, you going to help?” He grabs another drawer and puts it in place.
Cooper doesn’t flinch. It’s as if he hasn’t heard a thing we’ve said.
A surge of adrenaline hits my system, propelling me forward. There’s no time to make the bed properly, so I figure it’s best to camouflage things as much as possible. Wadding his bed sheets in a pile, I shove them into the near-full hamper, then drape the stripped mattress with the bedspread and set his pillows in place. It looks as good as new, at least at first glance. Then I scoop up his scattered clothes, cram them into each drawer without any care as to where they should actually go. As Jack rights the desk and replaces the drawers, I do shove the books back on the bookcase. They’re not in any discernible order but at least they’re all spine-out.
Just as we’ve finished setting up Cooper’s laptop and printer, the ambulance sirens whirr in the distance. The room’s not perfect, but at least it doesn’t look like a war zone. I don’t think I’ve ever moved so fast, not even when we outran the plateye hellhounds at the museum.
Wheezing for air, I kneel beside Cooper and place my hand on his. “They’re coming. We’re going to have to let them in the door and tell them what happened. Can you get up?”
He looks up at me, his hunter-green eyes rimmed with red and heavy with grief.
The sirens blare up the long oak-lined driveway leading to High Point Bluff.
Jack crouches in front of Cooper. “Dude, just get yourself downstairs, okay? We’ll do the talking until your dad shows up. Think you can do that?”
Cooper nods.