Too Sweet to Die T. Doyle (tharntype novel english .TXT) 📖

I considered what would throw off the dogs. “Have they searched the laundry room?”

Marabel picked up her phone. “I’ll ask Theo. He’s desperate to cooperate and keep the news quiet.” She texted the message.

“Too late. I think the entire county called Missy tonight.”

“Small town gossip keeps the community close.” Marabel’s sarcasm held a kernel of truth. She glanced at my car, her face highlighted by my hazard’s blinking lights. “You’re not scheduled to work tomorrow, but is it your day for Trivial Pursuit?”

“Yes, but…” My gut twisted and turned at the thought of driving on this road again.

“No, don’t worry about it.” Marabel’s sympathetic smile and worried eyes made me wonder how scared I really looked. “I’ll tell Nora and maybe she can find another partner.”

“Ingrid, or Jenny. Or maybe we could get Mrs. Almond to play,” I suggested. I remembered my conversation with Delilah from Del Lago casino. “I ran into a patient’s niece last week and invited them to join the game. Her name is Delilah, but I don’t remember her aunt’s name.”

“Delilah?” Marabel’s face puckered like she’d tasted a sour memory. “Didn’t she date Ray back in the day?”

“Yes. Enough said.” I may have sounded testy.

Marabel’s eyebrows slid up. “You and Ray have been spending a lot of time together.” She put her hand up to stop me. “I know it’s because of Oscar and Jenny. Nobody thinks you’d ever mess around on Joe.”

“That’s good to hear, and it’s the truth.”

“I think it’s great Ray has a friend who didn’t know him back then. He was always the big man on campus, great at football, great at baseball, great with the girls. I only went out with him to make my ex-boyfriend jealous, but Ray was fun and if we’re totally being truthful? He was a really nice guy.” A bittersweet smile crossed her face. “He was popular, but not because he sought it. People always expected him to achieve great things, like be the Mayor, or play pro football. I bet it’s not easy being back in town with a whole generation of people who feel the need to prove their life is better than his.”

“Or be reminded of every screw up,” I said. “Everywhere we go women glare at him. And his mom is a handful. It’s like he never gets a break.” I really needed to stop with my snarky comments and be nicer to Ray.

“Yeah.” Her shoulders inched up to her ears. “Why did we want to become adults?”

“It just happened.” The flashing lights from the tow truck crested over the hill. “Ian’s here. Thanks for keeping me company.”

“Anytime. I hope your weekend improves.”

I opened the car door. “Thanks. It can’t get any worse.”

I shouldn’t have said that.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Your brake line was cut,” Ian repeated on the phone the next morning.

I sat down on top of the clean laundry piled on my bed that I’d been folding.

“It wasn’t an accident. Tom is here taking pictures for evidence. Charlie, someone tried to kill you.” Ian sounded like he was reprimanding one of his kids.

“Are you sure?” My voice faltered, petering out to nothing.

“Charlie?” Joe’s voice called out from the kitchen.

“In here.” I walked from our bedroom toward him. “What are you doing home?”

“Ian called me.”

I put my phone on speaker. “You called Joe first?” I asked my brother-in-law.

“Yeah, and then I called the police. And then the police agreed with me and I called Joe back. And then I called Liz and Momma, and the pizza delivery guy, and then I called you. You’re not going anywhere alone until we figure out what the heck is going on.” He went on to describe what would happen to the person who tried to harm me which involved violent things not physically possible.

Joe took the phone. “She loves you too, man. Thanks for calling. I got her.” Joe ended the call and put my phone on the kitchen counter.

“What are you doing home?” I asked.

“I took the day off. Babe, I need you to sit down.” He guided me to the table and pulled out a chair for me.

He knelt down in front of me. “Tyler Rigby hung himself last night.”

Whoa. My bones turned to jelly. Gray clouds swarmed my vision until there was a little black dot where Joe’s head used to be.

He placed his hand between my shoulder blades. “Breathe, baby. Head between your knees.” He rubbed my back.

I refused to faint. I was not some Victorian heroine that swooned. But somehow, I knew Oscar’s death, my car’s brakes, and Tyler’s suicide were related and I was now involved, drowning in suspicions and I needed facts to save myself.

The garage door opened and heavy footfalls headed toward us. “You told her about Tyler?” Ray’s voice rumbled barely discernible over the ringing in my ears.

“Yeah.”

I tried to sit up.

“Take it slow,” Joe cautioned.

I rolled up, one vertebra at a time. Color bled through my foggy vision and the ringing in my ears subsided.

“Sit for a minute. I’ll get you some juice.” Joe squeezed my shoulder.

Ray looked concerned, like I had a terminal disease.

“I’m fine. I just got a little light-headed.” I leaned back in the chair.

Joe gave me a glass of water. I’d drunk all the juice the other day.

The doorbell chimed.

“I’ll get it,” said Ray.

I heard Liz and Momma Sanders introducing themselves to Ray.

Momma rushed over and hugged me. “Are the kids in danger?”

“I don’t think so.” I looked at Ray for confirmation.

Ray shook his head. “No.” He gave Joe the side-eye.

Joe slipped his phone from his pocket and I was pretty sure he was texting the kids.

I held my head and my heart thumped a baseline to the ringing in my ears. If I’d put my children in danger…

“Hey,” Ray said.

I peeked up.

“Your kids are safe. This could be totally unrelated to the kidnappings.” Ray’s sincere tone slowed my thudding heart.

“The children were kidnapped?” Momma shrieked.

“No, Momma, our kids are fine,” Joe assured her.