Somehow I'd made it through the lobby and into the parking lot without taking note of my surroundings. I stopped and looked around for my car, located it, and dug my keys out from the bottom of my purse.
Mother's going to have a stroke when she finds out what's going on.
I got in my car, slammed the door, and jammed the key into the ignition.
All I needed was for my parents to wade into the middle of this. I'd never hear the end of it. First, I walk out on Jonathan's proposal, and now I'm a "person of interest" in a murder investigation. I'll be dropped from the Christmas card list for sure.
I turned the key, but all I got was a sick "errrrr" sound. Damn. I'd been holding down the gas pedal and flooded the engine. I rubbed my forehead. I couldn't protect myself from my parent's wrath. How was I going to protect myself from Valerie's parents? Perhaps taking Delores's advice and getting myself an attorney was sound. But I couldn't call Jonathan like she'd suggested. He didn't practice criminal law. And this was the last thing I needed for him to hold over my head… no, wait. Maybe this was just the ticket. I'd call and ask him to recommend an attorney. He'd be so scandalized he'd back out of his marriage proposal, and I wouldn't have to worry about him anymore. Sure it would be humiliating, but so what? He'd dump me and Mother would be sympathetic instead of critical of me for rejecting his proposal – which she no doubt already heard about from Aunt Vi or Juliet.
I tried the ignition again. This time the engine turned over.
I needed to keep this quiet, though. I was not under the delusion the rest of my family would take such a sympathetic view of my involvement in a murder investigation, so it would be best if I didn't distress them with the "person of interest" news. I could handle this.
I stopped by Blackie's pasture to make sure he was fine before facing my aunt and uncle. He whinnied loudly and trotted over when I ducked through the fence, checked my pockets for treats, and sprayed me with a sneeze. Yeah, he was fine. I ruffled his forelock, then went to the house.
Aunt Vi clasped her hands to her face and peered in horror at mine. "Good Lord in Heaven, child! You never said a word about being injured."
Uncle Henry had been sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. He was on his feet in an instant, the newspaper spilling onto the floor. A vein throbbed in his temple.
"Greg did this, didn't he?" His question sounded more like a statement.
I couldn't believe I'd forgotten about my bruises. Without warning, a tremor took the warmth from my skin and turned my lips icy. Aunt Vi supported my arm and guided me to the table.
"Did he… did he…" Uncle Henry was stammering.
That, in itself, shocked me, never mind the color had drained from his face. With a jolt I realized my uncle feared I'd been raped.
"No! No. Just this." I pointed to my face. "Paul came before… before anything else… happened." Now I was having difficulty getting words out.
"You poor duck. Henry, get the ice out." She hurried to the drawer with the tea towels. "My word, that lad's gone two stops beyond Barking."
Uncle Henry grabbed his jacket from the peg by the back door. He turned to us, one arm in the sleeve.
"I'm going to have a word with that boy."
Aunt Vi glanced in his direction, stopped, looked again and frowned. "Henry Fairchild, you put your jacket up this instant and fetch me some ice. You'll do none of us any good sitting in the clink 'cuz you've gone spare and whacked the boy senseless."
They eyed each other. Aunt Vi was right. Having Uncle Henry lose his temper wouldn't help any. I was about to say so when he pursed his lips and hung the jacket back up. He got a plastic bag from the cabinet and opened the freezer.
"Have you been to the doctor? The police?" he asked.
"Yes to both," I said. "It's just bruising. I'm okay. Uncle Henry, Detective Thurman told me Blackie didn't kill Valerie." The words rushed out, and I thought he looked a little relieved when he nodded in acknowledgement.
He cleared his throat and handed the bag of ice to Aunt Vi. "You'll be glad to know the vet stopped by. He gave Blackie a good going over. Couldn't find anything wrong. I'll keep an eye on him just the same." He turned his chair to face me, while Aunt Vi folded the ice in the towel. "What else did the detective have to say?"
"Just asked some general questions – seemed to think I'd know something about the improvements Randy Rucker's making at his place. I thought that was pretty bizarre."
"I heard he was doing something up there," my uncle said. "Business has been a bit slow for him. Maybe he thinks he'll pull in more clients if he puts a new coat of paint on the barns."
Wow, that was catty coming from Uncle Henry, and news to me.
Aunt Vi snorted. "Well, I can tell you, he's needed to do something. The place is practically falling down around his ears. I've never seen such neglect." She handed me the ice pack. "Thea, you tell us everything that happened this morning. Don't be so economical with the truth. You said this would have been worse but for Paul."
I rested the ice pack against my jaw and gave a brief sketch of Paul's rescue to an attentive audience. Aunt Vi tipped her head. Her eyes and mouth formed little "Os." Of course I left out the emotional stuff and the Paul-thing after Greg decamped, although I gave Paul credit for his suggestions. Neither did I mention my encounters with Randy. That couldn't be important. No point in adding needless worry.
"Have you called your parents yet?" my aunt asked.
"Please don't tell Mother and Dad. I swear I'll tell them after the police solve this. There's nothing they can do. They'll only worry. Please?"
"They're your parents, love, they have a right to know what's going on."
"I know, but since I'm not involved anymore wouldn't it be better if we tell them after the sheriff solves this? Then they won't worry over nothing. Please, Aunt Vi?" I turned an imploring gaze on Uncle Henry. "Please? It's not like you're not right here."
He ran a hand over his face then studied me for a long moment.
"All right." He flicked a quick glance at Aunt Vi, who shook her head and turned her attention to preparing the tea. "On the condition that, should anything change and you become involved again, they'll be called immediately."
He meant if I were arrested. Good thing I'd left out how close I was to that. I slouched in my chair.
"Thanks. I promise."
Aunt Vi only harrumphed and intently arranged the porcelain tea pot and cups on the table. It was the Spode set with the red rosebuds I bought for her when Jonathan and I flew to Victoria for a weekend last January. If it hadn't been for the shopping and sightseeing, the trip would have been a colossal waste of time.
"It was Blackie's doing, you know," Aunt Vi said pouring the first cup. She handed it to me.
"What was Blackie's doing?" I asked. Talk about a non sequitur.
"At the end of the day, you'll see. He knew." She fixed a cup of tea with milk and handed it to Uncle Henry.
"Blackie knew?" Uncle Henry asked.
"Yes." She passed him the sugar bowl and stirred her tea.
My uncle and I looked at each other. He shrugged minutely. We'd obviously switched subjects, but I wasn't sure what the new subject was. "What did he know?"
Aunt Vi took a deep breath and pursed her lips on the long, slow exhale. Oh. I knew where this was headed but went for the wide-eyed sincere look, anyway.