You Will Suffer Page 6

  Now she paced back and forth, grimacing at the thought that she’d managed to drive Ellie away too.

  Maybe she should call back and tell that stupid secretary that she didn’t need Ellie’s legal help. Or even more money, although she wouldn’t say no if the younger woman wanted to slip her a couple of twenties.

  Barb abruptly froze. Was that a creak? Had someone opened a window? No. She was being paranoid. She tried to soothe her rattled nerves. It wouldn’t be the first time, right? Since she’d gone from a glass of wine after dinner to relax, to drinking an entire bottle of vodka just to get through the night, she’d started imagining all sorts of crazy things. She’d once been convinced she could hear people whispering when she tried to sleep. And that a car was following her whenever she was driving around town. And that she’d seen the face of her dead mother peering through the living room window.

  Of course, this time she actually had reason to be on edge, she reminded herself. Last night she might have been hammered, but she’d seen more clearly than she had in years.

  She had to warn the others.

  There was another creak and Barb whirled around, her eyes widening in horror. She lifted her hands, as if she could ward off the fate that had been stalking her for years.

  Oh God. She was too late.

  Too. Damn. Late.

  * * *

  Ellie woke early. Nothing unusual in that. But she didn’t usually creep out the door with a flashlight in one hand and a softball bat in the other. Once reassured that no one had been skulking around during the night, she headed out for her morning run.

  Jogging down the road, she kept her pace steady and her gaze locked on the distant windmills. She was never going to win a marathon, but there was something deeply satisfying in the feel of her feet hitting the red-dirt road. It was her version of meditation.

  Out of habit, she circled past Nate’s home, experiencing the familiar sensation that she was being watched. But it wasn’t a creepy, stalker sort of sensation. Actually, she’d always savored the warmth that flowed through her as she passed by the old ranch house. As if someone who cared about her safety was always close by, keeping away the monsters.

  Concentrating on her breathing, Ellie managed to pretend she didn’t have a ball of unease lodged in the pit of her stomach. It actually worked, even when she returned home.

  Taking a quick shower, she dried off and gathered her damp hair into a ponytail. Then, sipping her second cup of coffee, she pulled on black slacks and a light sweater before she jumped in her car and headed into town.

  It wasn’t until she stepped into her office and Doris surged to her feet with an eager expression that her pretense cracked and crumbled. She just wanted to go to her desk and bury herself in the stack of files awaiting her attention. Instead, it was obvious that Doris was impatient to discuss the shocking news that was already buzzing through town.

  Swallowing a resigned sigh, she forced a smile. “Morning, Doris.”

  “Did you hear?” the older woman demanded.

  “About Daniel?”

  Doris was briefly disappointed at the realization that she couldn’t amaze Ellie with the latest gossip, but she quickly rallied to offer an expression of sympathy that was laced with a large dose of judgmental satisfaction.

  The good citizens of Curry believed in loving thy neighbor, but they also believed in karma. Or as they would say, Let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream.

  You got what was coming to you . . . eventually.

  “A tragedy,” Doris said, “but I suppose we all knew it was just a matter of time.”

  Ellie grimaced. The older woman had a point. Daniel had chased death with a vengeance. Still, it was hard to accept that such a young, seemingly healthy man was dead. “Have you heard what happened to him?”

  Doris looked surprised by the question. “Everyone assumes it was an overdose. What else could it be?” There was a short pause as the older woman pressed a hand to the center of her chest. “Oh. You don’t think he committed suicide, do you?”

  “No, I don’t think anything,” Ellie hastily denied. Christ, the last thing she wanted was to start the rumor that Daniel had killed himself. Once she’d told her secretary that her lunch at the local café caused her heartburn, and the next thing she knew the owner was calling to say that he’d heard she was telling people that he’d given her food poisoning. Lesson learned. “I was asking if you’d been told how he died.”

  Doris gave a shake of her head. “All I know is that Daniel was found in the middle of Neville Morse’s field.”

  Ellie hadn’t known who owned the land. Although she’d been born in Curry, she’d spent the majority of her life in Oklahoma City. She was still acquainting herself with the locals.

  “Neville Morse,” she murmured. “I don’t recognize the name.”

  “He doesn’t come to town much. To be honest, he’s almost a hermit,” Doris told her. “But you know his daughter, Mandy.”

  Ellie only knew one Mandy. The woman who worked next door at the bakery.

  “Mandy Gibson?”

  Doris nodded. “She married Neil Gibson straight out of high school. It was a rushed ceremony, if you know what I mean. They were divorced a year later. She’s been working at the bakery ever since to take care of herself and her son.”

  “Was she friends with Daniel?”

  Doris snorted. “I doubt it. She’s a hardworking mother who doesn’t have time for the sort of nonsense that killed Daniel.”

  The ring of the office phone interrupted their conversation and Doris reached for the receiver to answer in a professional voice.

  “Guthrie Law Firm, how may I help you?” She listened, her lips thinning with displeasure at whoever was at the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, she’s not in yet. I’ll pass along your messages when she gets here.”

  Ellie arched a brow. Doris was bossy, and inclined to gossip, but she was always gracious to Ellie’s clients. Even those who were more than a little sketchy.

  “Who was that?” Ellie demanded as Doris replaced the receiver with a loud bang.

  “Barb Adams,” the older woman said.

  Ah. Ellie suddenly understood the woman’s prickly response.

  Barb Adams had been her father’s secretary when he’d worked in the prosecutor’s office in town. Ellie had seen pictures of the vivacious, redheaded woman when Barb was younger, but she hadn’t recognized her when she’d stumbled through the front door. The woman’s hair had faded, her face was sallow and deeply wrinkled, and her body was gaunt after years of abusing alcohol.

  Ellie had often heard the term “death warmed over,” but she hadn’t truly understood it until she’d seen Barb. Which might have explained why she’d allowed herself to be talked into agreeing to represent her, pro bono, despite the fact that she didn’t usually take DUI cases. And even giving her money to pay her electric bill. Frankly, she felt sorry for the woman.

  Doris hadn’t been nearly so sympathetic. She claimed she was angered that the older woman had used her connection to Ellie’s father to take advantage of her, but Ellie suspected there was more to her disapproval than that.

  From everything that Ellie had heard from her father, Barb Adams had once been a top-notch secretary, who’d been offered several lucrative positions while she was working at the prosecutor’s office. No doubt Doris was worried her own performance was being judged against the other woman’s before Barb had taken to drinking. Or perhaps she thought Barb was hoping to replace her as Ellie’s secretary.

  Whatever the case, Doris always looked like she’d swallowed a lemon when Barb was around.

  “Was she arrested?”

  “Either that or she wants to play on your sympathy for more money,” Doris said. “She left a dozen messages last night on the answering machine asking you to come and see her. I assumed she was drunk out of her mind and erased them.”

  “Maybe I should go see what she needs,” Ellie said,
swallowing a sigh. She hated to admit the fact that she found Barb Adams a pain in the ass.

  At one time, she’d no doubt been a highly efficient woman with a bright future. Now she was just a sad drunk drowning in self-pity and alcohol.

  Still, her house was only a couple of blocks away. Ellie could walk there in less than ten minutes. And if she didn’t go see the woman, there was a good chance she would stumble into the office drunk as a skunk, demanding to see Ellie.

  Doris flattened her lips in disapproval. “What she needs is to stop trying to take advantage of you just because she worked for your father.”

  “She’s lonely.”

  “Perhaps she’d have a few friends if she wasn’t always three sheets to the wind.”

  Ellie turned back to the door. The sooner she found out what Barb wanted, the sooner she could concentrate on her work.

  “I’ll be back.”

  “Don’t give her any money,” Doris called out as Ellie left the office and headed down the sidewalk.

  Ellie rolled her eyes, glad that she’d pulled on a sweater before she’d left the house. The sun had crested the horizon, but it hadn’t managed to take the chill out of the morning air.

  Not that Ellie minded. She liked when the breeze was crisp and the sun a mere promise of warmth. In a couple of months, it would be unbearably hot.

  Hurrying past the businesses that were beginning to open for the day, she turned north to enter a residential section of town. At one time, it had been an elegant neighborhood with a nice mix of Victorian and Craftsman homes. Now the wealthy citizens lived in the new subdivision south of town, and the Victorian homes had been converted to cheap apartments. A sad but inevitable decline.

  She reached the small corner house with white siding and black shutters and headed up the sidewalk to climb the steps that led to the covered porch. Knocking on the door, she frowned as it swung open.

  “Barb?” she called out. She stuck her head into the house, her nose wrinkling at the overpowering stench of stale cigarette smoke. “Hello? Barb.” Nothing.

  Ellie hesitated before she stepped inside. The older woman might be unstable, but she wouldn’t have left without locking her door, would she?

  It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the front room. The heavy drapes were pulled across the windows, as if Barb was allergic to daylight. Or maybe it was a preventive measure, knowing she was going to wake with a hangover.

  Taking a cautious step forward, Ellie peered through the shadows. She could make out a couch and two armchairs as well as a low coffee table. Nothing looked out of place. Then, as she was about to turn and leave, she caught sight of the lump lying on the floor near the window.

  “Barb.”

  Ellie hurried forward and crouched down next to Barb. Carefully she reached out to roll the woman onto her back, feeling for a pulse.

  It was faint. Unsteady.

  Ellie dug in her purse, finding her phone to dial 911. As soon as she heard the call answered, she gave Barb’s address and tossed the phone back in her purse. Thankfully there was a rural hospital on the edge of town. It shouldn’t take them more than a couple of minutes to reach the house.

  Barb suddenly coughed, her lashes lifting to reveal eyes that looked dull and unfocused.

  “Eloise?”

  Ellie reached up to yank open the nearest curtain. The darkness was unnerving. Sunlight slanted into the room, revealing the stark pallor of Barb’s face.

  “I’m here,” she assured the woman, grabbing one thin hand to give it a squeeze. “Don’t try to move. The ambulance is on its way.”

  The woman grimaced, her face twisting with regret. “Too late.”

  “It’s not. You need to hang on,” Ellie urged.

  Barb coughed again, her already pale skin turning a nasty shade of gray.

  “You have to warn them,” she rasped.

  Ellie’s stomach twisted into a tight knot. Was the woman delusional?

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It isn’t safe. None of us.”

  “What isn’t safe?” Ellie leaned closer as the woman’s eyes fluttered shut. “Barb?”

  A long, shaky breath escaped the woman’s lips and then she went limp. Ellie bit her bottom lip, silently urging the ambulance to hurry.

  She wasn’t a doctor, but she was fairly certain that the older woman was dying. Once again, she pressed her fingers to the woman’s wrist, desperately searching for a pulse.

  This time there was nothing.

  Ellie was trying to remember her rusty CPR classes when she heard the sound of an approaching siren. Thank God. She rose to her feet only to freeze at the unmistakable sound of footsteps.

  Someone was in the house.

  “Hello?” Ellie cautiously crossed the living room and peered down the hallway.

  Dark. Dusty. And empty.

  Had she been hearing things? God knew her nerves felt raw enough to imagine ghostly sounds. Still . . .

  There was another patter of footsteps. These, however, were firm and loud as they entered the house.

  Turning, Ellie watched as the EMTs rushed to Barb, one man hooking her up to various monitors while another started CPR. Their grim expressions didn’t inspire a lot of confidence in Barb’s prognosis.

  Pressed against the wall in an effort to stay out of the way, Ellie’s gaze remained locked on Barb as she was transferred to a gurney. Which meant that she didn’t notice the man who was crossing the floor until he was standing directly in front of her.

  “Nate.” She blinked, caught off guard by the sheer relief that raced through her. It was like Nate Marcel had become her personal shot of Prozac. “What are you doing here?”

  He gave a lift of his shoulder, his gaze studying her with a strange intensity.

  “You know my habit of chasing ambulances.”

  “Hmm.” She didn’t believe him for a minute. “Doris told you I was coming to see Barb, didn’t she?”

  He nodded, his gaze darting toward the emergency crew who were heading out the door with Barb on the gurney.

  “Do you know what happened to her?”

  “No. I knocked on the door and it swung open, so I came in to check on her.” Ellie wrapped her arms around her waist. Suddenly she wasn’t such a fan of the crisp morning air. She felt chilled to the bone. “I found her on the floor.”

  “Was she injured?”

  “Not that I could see. She’s—” Ellie bit off her words. It was no secret in town that Barb Adams was an alcoholic, but since she’d been a client, even a non-paying client, Ellie had a policy of not discussing personal matters over and beyond what was demanded by the law. Better safe than sorry. “She’s not in very good health.”

  Outside there was a crunch of tires as the ambulance pulled out of the driveway. Ellie grimaced. No siren. That couldn’t be a good sign.

  “Maybe I should go to the hospital,” she abruptly decided.

  Nate regarded her in confusion. “Wouldn’t it be better to call her family to be with her?”

  “I don’t know if she has anyone. She worked for my father until we moved to Oklahoma City, but I don’t think she ever married or had kids.”

  “It’s still not your responsibility.”

  “Maybe not, but it seems wrong to let her wake up alone in a hospital room,” she said, not voicing her fear that Barb wasn’t going to be waking up anywhere. “Besides, she was trying to tell me something,” she added as she suddenly recalled why she was at the house.

  “Was it important?”

  Ellie furrowed her brow. “I’m not sure. She called several times during the night, asking me to come see her. Then, when I found her this morning, she said I needed to warn them, but she didn’t tell me who or why.”

  “That’s all?”

  “She said something about no one being safe and then she passed out.” Recalling her short conversation with Barb, she abruptly pushed away from the wall and moved toward the nearby hallway.
/>   Nate was quickly following behind her. “Ellie?”

  “I thought I heard footsteps, but I was distracted when the ambulance arrived.”

  He hurriedly stepped past her, taking the lead as they moved down the hallway. Together they glanced into a bedroom that was messy, but clearly empty. They checked out a small bathroom and then a closet before Nate pushed open the door at the end of the corridor.

  This one looked like a guest room with a narrow bed and peeling wallpaper. On the far wall a window was wide open and a stack of old magazines had been knocked over to clutter the shag carpet.

  Nate quickly moved across the room, bending down to study the window frame. He made a small sound, pushing his head through the open space to survey the backyard before he was straightening.

  “It’s possible that someone jimmied the window,” he said, waiting for her to join him so he could point at the deep gouges visible in the wood around the lock. “Plus, the dirt outside is disturbed, like someone was recently standing there.”

  “Maybe that’s why she collapsed,” Ellie said slowly. “If someone broke in and frightened her, it could have put too much stress on her heart.”

  Nate’s jaw hardened. “Or she had information that she wanted to share with you and someone broke in to stop her.”

  Ellie bit her bottom lip. If Nate was right, then the person who’d attacked Barb had still been there when she’d entered the house. Perhaps they’d even been watching her as she’d called 911, debating whether to make sure Barb was dead and maybe her as well.

  “She warned me that no one was safe,” she murmured, her dark thoughts interrupted as Nate abruptly turned to head out of the room. “What are you doing?” she demanded, following him down the hallway and into the kitchen.

  “Searching to see if anything is disturbed,” he murmured, coming to a sharp halt as they turned into the kitchen.

  Ellie made a small sound of disgust. She couldn’t help herself. Her own house might need repairs, not to mention several boxes that needed to be unpacked, but it was clean. This place . . . yikes. The sink overflowed with dishes that had been sitting there for days, if not weeks. The countertops were loaded with empty takeout boxes, and trash overflowed from the bag to spill across the floor.