Susanna would have argued that point, but without a call to Jack she couldn’t say for certain. And there was no way she was calling Jack at three in the morning. At least the officer believed her that someone had been here.
He nodded toward the Corvette. “Taking a car like that out for a joyride would be almost irresistible. They probably searched the interior to see if they could find the keys.”
“But then why try to break into my house?”
The other officer answered. “They probably figured someone who would leave a car like that in an unlocked trailer wouldn’t be too careful with their house, either. They may have just been checking to see if they could get inside the house and get the keys. You scared them off when you screamed.” His expression grew sober. “It’s a good thing you locked your doors. If they were on drugs, you never know what could have happened to you and your little girl.”
Susanna turned to look into the deep shadows of the backyard. The scenario did seem feasible, assuming Jack had simply forgotten to lock the trailer. She certainly intended to ask him about that the next time she spoke with him.
Still, having someone try to break into her house the same night Mr. Ingram was killed seemed like an awfully big coincidence. What would that detective think? She almost hated to bring up the man’s name, because he reminded her so much of the detective she’d spoken with during that awful business back in Tennessee. “I don’t know. Maybe we should contact Detective Rollins.”
“Oh, don’t worry, ma’am.” The first officer closed the trailer door. “We’ll give him a full report.”
He turned the key in the lock, tested the handle to be sure it was secure, and handed her the key ring.
She held Lizzie in place with one hand and took the key with the other. “So you think we’ll be safe the rest of the night?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do.” The officer glanced at his watch, then smiled at Lizzie’s sleeping form. “You should take a cue from your daughter and try to get a few hours’ sleep. We’ll make some extra patrols up and down this street for the rest of the night, keep an eye on things. Just to be on the safe side.”
The two officers headed for their cruisers. Susanna watched them for a moment, until an icy breeze blew against her back. Lizzie should be inside, where it was warm. She hurried up the walkway, climbed the steps and let herself into the house.
Sleep, the officer had said. After all she’d been through? Right. The two hours she’d managed to doze on the couch earlier would have to last her a while. No way she’d be able to sleep any more tonight.
When she’d deposited Lizzie in bed—Susanna’s, not the little girl’s—she returned to the front of the house. A peek through the curtains revealed one of the cruisers still parked at the curb. The sight eased the mounting tension a fraction. A light illuminated the younger officer, his head bent over something on the seat beside him. Typing his report on a computer, probably. Good. Hopefully he’d have a lot to say, and it would take a long time. If the teenagers returned, the presence of a police officer would be a strong deterrent.
But the cruiser would leave eventually. She tried to ignore the panicky feeling that made her breath shallow. She was not normally the hysterical type, but the events of the past several hours would make anyone paranoid. If only she had a weapon of some sort. Not a gun, because she wouldn’t know how to use one if she had it. But a baseball bat, maybe, or a crowbar. A glance around the room revealed no likely weapons. She went into the kitchen, opened the knife drawer and examined the dangerous blade of the butcher knife.
No. Someone would have to get far too close for a knife to do any good. Besides, she was a weakling. If anyone got into the house, she and Lizzie were done for. Her best defense was to make sure nobody got in to begin with.
She slid out one of the sturdy wooden chairs from the dinette set that had belonged to her mother, tilted it on its back two legs and wedged the backrest under the door handle. There. They’d have to chop through the door with an ax to get past that. She’d use another chair on the front door and a third for her bedroom door. She and Lizzie would be safe inside.
Before she left the room, she returned to the drawer and grabbed the butcher knife, too. Just in case.
Susanna awoke Friday morning to Lizzie’s happy chatter.
“I slept with you, Susu!” The child hopped like an excited frog on the mattress. “We had a sleepover.”
Morning sunlight filtered through the yellow bedroom curtains and filled the room with a cheery glow. Susanna stretched and glanced at the clock. Eight twenty-seven. In all the chaos of last night she had forgotten to set the alarm, and now they’d overslept. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept until eight-thirty on a weekday. Of course, she hadn’t expected to sleep at all, and couldn’t remember dropping off. Exhaustion must have finally caught up with her.
Lizzie bounced once more before settling on the mattress beside her. “Is it Cartoon Day?”
At three years old, Lizzie had yet to learn the days of the week. She knew she went to her babysitter’s house on workdays, and on Saturday she was allowed to spend a couple of hours in front of the television watching her favorite cartoons.
Susanna shook her head. “No, sweetie, it’s not Saturday. It’s Friday, a workday.”
Although, after what she’d been through, nobody would blame her for taking a day off. They could lounge around the house in their pajamas and watch one of Lizzie’s favorite Disney DVDs. Filling her mind with images of princesses in beautiful dresses sounded far more appealing than the somber faces she would encounter at Ingram Industries today.
Guilt immediately flared. The employees would be shocked when they showed up for work to discover Mr. Ingram had been killed. Everyone loved him, and they’d all be saddened by his loss. They’d be worried, too, about the status of the company and their jobs. Plus, the board members would need to make some decisions. No doubt there would be an emergency meeting to organize. As Mr. Ingram’s executive secretary, she needed to be at work today.
With a resolute hand, she peeled back the blanket and slid out of bed. Lizzie bounded after her, then caught sight of the chair wedged against the door. The room filled with childish giggles as she pointed.
“Susu, you brought a chair to bed with you.”
“Silly me, huh?”
In the light of day, her paranoia of the night before did seem a little absurd. But only for a moment, until she remembered the horror of that rattling doorknob and the unlocked car trailer.
Before falling asleep, she’d come to a decision about the Corvette. It couldn’t stay here. She wanted no part of the kind of attention a car like that attracted. Selling it to Jack’s father without talking to Mr. Ingram’s daughters was out of the question, but it had to go to storage or something until they could decide what to do with it. That was at the top of her To Do list this morning.
On her bedside table lay her cell phone, the key to the trailer and Jack’s business card. He expected her to call when she knew whether or not Mr. Ingram’s daughters were willing to sell the Corvette. Would he mind transporting it to a storage facility instead?
Probably not. Regardless of his father’s reputation, he seemed like a nice guy. Certainly friendlier and more helpful than… She steeled her thoughts away from the direction they wanted to take. The little girl jumping with glee on the mattress provided a constant reminder that she couldn’t be too careful when it came to rich bachelors like Jack Townsend.
Still, she had no choice. Much as she hated to do it, she needed to ask him for a favor.
Resigned, she reached for her phone.
FIVE