Silent Killer. Beverly Barton
his grandfather had expressly forbidden Nana to pick him up in the afternoons. He considered doing that would only coddle Seth.
He had overheard Granddad say to Nana, “You and Elaine spoil that boy way too much. He’ll never be a real man with his two grandmothers hovering over him the way y’all do.”
If today had been just another warm and sunny May day, he’d have opted to walk instead of considering catching a ride home with kooky Felicity and her sister, Charity. But it had been raining cats and dogs for the past hour, and he didn’t look forward to getting drenched in the downpour.
“Sure, thanks,” Seth said. “If you don’t think Charity will mind.”
Felicity lit up like a Christmas tree, as if his agreeing to accept a ride home had been an answer to her prayers. Yeah, okay, so he knew she liked him. She’d sort of had a thing for him for nearly a year now, even though he’d never done anything to encourage her. The last thing he’d ever want to do was hurt her feelings, but sooner or later he was going to have to tell her to back off.
“Come on.” Felicity grabbed his arm. “We’ve got to hurry. Charity will be waiting out front, and she can’t stay parked in the tow-away zone forever.”
They barely made it out the front door before Felicity popped open a huge black umbrella to shield them from the rain. She led him to the late-model Chevy, a reliable, sturdy vehicle that most teenagers wouldn’t be caught dead driving. She opened the back door and said, “Get in.”
Once he and Felicity were inside, Charity pulled out of the tow-away area, not glancing back at them or saying a word. It was only after Felicity had closed the umbrella and Seth had fastened his seat belt and looked forward that he noticed the girl sitting in the front seat with Charity. He knew, without seeing her face, who she was. His heartbeat accelerated. His face flushed. And his penis came alive.
Damn! Get that thing under control.
While he concentrated on how his body was reacting to the beautiful Missy Hovater, she turned around and smiled at him.
“Hi, Seth.”
God, she knew his name!
Don’t be an idiot, of course she knows your name. Her father took your dad’s job. He’s the minister where you and your grandparents go to church. You’re in Sunday school class with her.
“Hi, Missy.” His words came out sounding like a frog’s croak.
When Missy laughed, the dimples in her cheeks deepened and her eyes sparkled.
Felicity punched him in the ribs and giggled. “What’s up with that voice? Were you trying to do an imitation of a bullfrog?”
Shit!
Oh, damn!
I shouldn’t even think those words. It’s wrong to curse, even in your mind. And I shouldn’t be fighting a hard-on. Sins of the flesh. Stay chaste. Don’t think evil thoughts. Oh, God, help me.
Seth didn’t know which was worse—being concerned about his numerous sins or the red flush no doubt covering his face. It was hell being sixteen—well, almost sixteen—and no one except another teenager could possibly understand how he felt right this minute. His grandparents certainly wouldn’t understand.
“Yeah,” Seth managed to say in his normal voice. “I’m practicing for tryouts for the school play, The Frog Prince.”
When everyone laughed, even the quiet, shy Charity, Seth relaxed.
He could feel Felicity watching him, but he couldn’t manage to take his eyes off Missy. She had to be the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, every feature on her face perfect, and her body was bad, really bad. He hated to admit it, but the first thing he had noticed about her, after her gorgeous face and mane of blond hair, was her big boobs. He might be a preacher’s son and the grandson of a church elder, but he was human and couldn’t help it if a girl’s breasts fascinated him.
Felicity leaned against him, her long, straight black hair brushing his arm, her actions demanding his attention. When he glanced at her, he realized she was practically in his face.
“Why don’t you come home with us?” Felicity asked. “Mom will fix us all lunch, and then you and I can study for our American History test together.”
“I don’t know.” Think of some excuse other than your grandmother is expecting you to come home. “I sort of promised Tyler that we’d hang out together later today.”
“So call him and invite him over. Mom won’t mind. She loves for us to have company, doesn’t she, Charity?” When her sister didn’t respond, Felicity punched the back of her sister’s seat.
“Uh, no, Mother won’t mind at all,” Charity said.
“I’m going home with Charity and spending the afternoon,” Missy told him. “I don’t like to disturb my father when he’s busy working on a sermon.”
“I…uh…sure, thanks, I’d like to have lunch with y’all.” Liar. You don’t want to have lunch with all of them, only with Missy. “But I need to give Nana a quick call, so she won’t worry. You know how grandmothers are.”
Seth fumbled in his pocket and managed to retrieve his phone without dropping it. Please, God, let Nana answer and not Granddad. Nana wouldn’t give him a hard time about not coming straight home. He understood that Granddad was strict with him for his own good, just as his own dad would have been. But sometimes he wished his grandfather could remember what it was like to be nearly sixteen.
Cathy looked at the address written on the notepad: 121 West Fourth Street. This had to be a mistake. That was the address for the old Perdue house. Hadn’t Mona mentioned something about that house being empty, that it had been up for sale for nearly six months? Maybe someone had bought the place, and the new owner needed interior-decorating advice, an extra service they provided at Treasures of the Past Antiques and Interiors.
“Is something wrong?” Ruth Ann Harper asked. “You have the strangest expression on your face.”
Cathy forced a smile. She liked Ruth Ann, who was married to Lorie’s cousin, the local First Baptist Church’s minister. Ruth Ann had been working part-time helping Lorie with the antique shop while Cathy had been at Haven Home.
“No, nothing’s wrong. I was just puzzled by the address. I didn’t realize anyone had bought the old Perdue house.” Cathy looked right at Ruth Ann. “Are you sure you wrote down the correct address?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“And Lorie told you to ask me to meet with the client at four-thirty this afternoon at this address?”
“Yes.” Ruth Ann looked puzzled. “When she phoned from the auction in Fayetteville, I told her about the gentleman who had called and asked if y’all could help him with decorating his house. He said it was an old Victorian, that he was having some restoration work done on the place and he didn’t know anything about decorating.”
“Did he happen to tell you his name and if he and his wife would be meeting with me or…?”
“He didn’t mention a wife. And come to think of it, he didn’t give me his name. I think he thought I knew who he was. How, I don’t know. Local gossip, maybe.”
“I see. And you told Lorie which house it was? You mentioned the address to her, right?”
“Well, actually, no, I don’t think I mentioned the address. I just told her what the man had said, and she told me to ask you to meet with him since she wouldn’t make it back from the auction by four-thirty.”
“Oh.”
“Is there a problem of some kind?”
Cathy shook her head. “No, no problem at all.” She checked her wristwatch. “I’d better leave now since it’s already four-twenty. Would you mind closing up today? It would