Lethal Literature. Kym Roberts
me when I shut my dad out of my life over mistakes neither one of us could take back.
I’d been lucky to get the second chance at a relationship with him. Looking back was the last thing either one of us needed to do.
“He never told me the two of you were close,” I confessed.
“There’s a lot of things Bobby Ray hasn’t told you.”
Before I could ask her what she meant, Isla asked, “What brings you to Oak Grove Manor today?”
I set the bag of books on my lap and smiled. “I know tomorrow is a special day, but I’ll be out of town for the weekend and I wanted to make sure I wished you a happy birthday.”
The wrinkles on her forehead drew together. “Tomorrow’s my birthday?”
Talking to Isla had always come easy. Today, it was hard and stilted. We seemed to be on very different wavelengths. “I saw Ava this morning. She told me tomorrow was your birthday.” I lied. The last thing Isla needed to hear was that I’d just learned about her birthday from a virtual stranger.
“Ava? Do you mean Ava James?” she asked.
“Yeah. You know, the Judge’s clerk?” Confusion passed over her face. Maybe now was the time to find out if my dad ever talked about Ava. Part of me wanted to know I wasn’t the only one in the dark about the relationship; the other part hoped Isla had some information to share on the topic and our conversation would go back to the way it’d always been. “I ran into her at Dad’s house this morning.”
“They weren’t fighting, were they?” she asked.
Confused, I shook my head.
“I’m so glad the two of them are getting along. Your daddy was always jealous of Ava James.”
“Jealous?” That was the last thing I expected Isla to say. What could possibly cause my daddy to be jealous of Ava? Biting my lip, I waited for Isla to fill in the silence. I watched as she picked a flower and twirled it between her thumb and forefinger.
“Bobby Ray didn’t understand the Judge’s relationship with Ava. It bothered him more than you can possibly know.” Isla’s gaze snapped from the flowers to my face. A look of pure panic widened her eyes and caused her jaw to drop open. I squeezed her hand, unsure of what caused her agitation but eager to make her feel at ease.
“Are you okay?”
Isla dropped her head and began rubbing my hand with both of hers as if she was afraid I’d pull it away. “I think I did something horrible this morning,” she whispered.
Before I could ask why she believed that, footsteps crunched against the pebbled path leading to the bench. Mason Andrews, the director of the retirement home, appeared from the other side of a red-china rose bush, his face flushed with both concern and relief as he took in Ava. Like me, the tall slender man in his late thirties with thinning hair and slightly droopy eyes noticed Ava’s unkempt hair. He catalogued the wrinkles in her shirt and slacks then focused on the way she desperately wrung my hand. Isla glanced at him, but her gaze immediately shot to the ground in what looked like a combination of shame and embarrassment.
Mr. Andrews spared me no more than a curt nod before he squatted down in front of Isla and peered up into her down-turned face.
“Are you okay, Isla?”
Isla nodded.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. I should have been here,” Mr. Andrews said.
“Is it true?” Isla asked, her voice barely a whisper.
I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I knew better than to interject. Mr. Andrews cared for Isla; that was obvious. I also knew she had a soft spot for Mr. Andrews, who’d always treated her with kind regard in my presence during the few visits I’d made.
Mr. Andrews nodded, then reached up and wiped the tear from her cheek. “When I came to work this morning, you weren’t in your room. I came outside thinking you were in the garden, but you weren’t here either. I called the police, and they said they’d look for you, but . . .”
Isla gave a faint, wry smile, then released my hand. “I think they found me.”
Mr. Andrews chuckled and I got the distinct impression he was trying to lighten the mood. “The way I hear it, you found them.”
I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer. “What happened?”
Mason smiled apologetically in my direction. “Isla decided she had something to tell the Judge this morning that couldn’t wait.”
Isla nodded in agreement. “It couldn’t.”
“She took off on her own without checking out at the front desk.” Mr. Andrews turned to Isla. “You had all of us scared half to death.”
Isla’s cheeks pinked as she waved her hand in dismissal. “Nonsense. The courthouse is just a few blocks away, and that nice officer brought me back.”
“You walked to the courthouse with your bad hip?” My disapproval may have seeped into my tone.
Isla sat up straight and threw back her shoulders with pride. “I reckon I did, and I gave them all a piece of my mind when I got there . . . including that cheating husband of mine and that tart, Ava James.”
Chapter Three
The front doors to the Book Barn Princess swished open on their automatic tracks, but the little buzzer didn’t ding as my best friend came running into the store. If Scarlet wasn’t so frantic I might worry about the stupid doors being on the fritz again. Instead, I focused on the high pitch of her voice as she yelled, “Bobby Ray’s in trouble!”
I slammed the register drawer closed and came out from behind the counter. “What kind of trouble?”
“I don’t know,” Scarlet panted. Barely over five foot, Scarlet had the kind of body I dreamed about as a teenager—all curvy and luscious—the kind high school boys got tongue-tied over. Except in high school, Scarlet was a book nerd with glasses and dull brown hair who wore oversized T-shirts. Absolutely nothing like the ginger bombshell who was now grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the door.
“Where is he?” I asked as I dug my store keys out of my pocket.
Scarlet barely slowed down for me to set the alarm. “I got a call from Daisy. She said you weren’t answering your phone.”
“I left it in my apartment.”
That earned an eye roll from Scarlet. “You need to carry your phone with you, Charli.”
“Hello? I’m working at the Barn. We have a phone. Why didn’t either one of you call me here?”
“Daisy was a little flustered, and I thought it was better I came to get you in person.”
Scarlet was one of those people who talked a hundred miles an hour. I couldn’t stop her, couldn’t make her yield to get a comment in edgewise, nor could anyone else. In the past, I’d wondered if she would ever turn off her nonstop dialogue that covered topics ranging from gossip to fashion to politics to scientific studies about beauty products. Apparently, tonight was the night. And it kind of scared me. “Scarlet, what’s going on?”
Scarlet paused and turned to face me. “I’m going to tell you something, but I don’t want you to freak out.”
“You’re already freaking me out. Just tell me.”
Scarlet’s words poured out of her. “Bobby Ray is over at the Judge’s house, and there’s a body on the ground.”
When my eyes nearly bugged out of my head, Scarlet rushed to tell me the rest. Her voice, however, was muffled by overflow of blood pumping through my veins.
“I don’t know who it is. No one does. But Daisy said it’s definitely a body lying under a yellow police blanket.”