Chapter 18 Sheepishly
I t was the pressure that formed around my chest that caused me to awaken, as the sensation of another person pushing against me during the middle of the night had grown foreign since Brooke.
Breaking the seal of my eyelids, I lifted my head from the floor, fully awakened by the troubling thought of not knowing where and with whom I was. Greeted with a smile, I could make out the shape of Lauren hovering above me as her hair draped down almost to my face.
“Sorry.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I heard something and it scared me.” Lauren cast her eyes around the room, implying that whatever caught her attention was nearby.
Propelling myself upward, I patted my hand along the floor in search of the gun. “Did it sound like someone was outside?”
“No, it was just the creaking of the house, but now I can’t sleep.”
Relieved and a bit disgruntled, I rubbed my eyes. “So, you decided to wake me up?”
“I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to snuggle up to you for protection.”
“Oh, so now you want to sleep with me?” I teased, settling my back along the floor.
“Hush,” she said, lifting the quilt and nudging her way underneath.
“What time is it?”
“A little past midnight.”
“Sheesh, why don’t we move to the couch or bed? This floor is not comfortable in the least.”
“It feels fine to me,” she countered, laying her head against my chest.
“Well, yeah, when I’m your pillow, I guess it’s not so bad.”
My eyes locked on to Lauren’s as her chin slid to the center of my chest. She gazed up at me as if not interested in sleep at all but more so looking to talk. What she could possibly have in mind for a discussion this time of night was beyond me, but I knew there was no sleep to be had until she got whatever it was off her mind.
“Yes . . .”
“I was wondering.”
“Wondering... like, I’m going to regret asking what about or like this is to ease your mind so we can go to sleep?”
“Maybe a little of both,” she laughed.
“I guess I should have seen that coming.”
“Ha, what makes you say that?”
“Why else would you change your mind about sleeping in here if there was only a little sound, when you were perfectly fine before?”
“Maybe...” Although she was questioning her own choice, Lauren gave no other indication that I was right. Instead, her mind was fixated on the why.
“So, what’s on your mind?”
“Well, I was wondering... When you left me earlier, why didn’t you give me a kiss goodnight?”
“Did I not?”
“No . . .”
“Oh,” I admitted while recalling my departure upon delivering her the pillow and blanket. Raising my head to meet her lips, I brushed the tip of her nose with mine. Lauren paused briefly enough to relish the soft embrace, only to slide back to her position on my chest.
“It’s a little late now,” she huffed.
“Sorry. I guess I was just trying to back off.”
“Maybe don’t back off so much,” she suggested.
“Huh?”
“I just mean, it felt more like you were actually leaving me,” she said, stirring up our previous argument.
“That’s not what I intended, by any means.” Lauren lay resting against me as I pondered the mixed emotions I was receiving. After a few minutes, and against better judgment, I finally said what I had on my mind. “You know, you’re harder to figure out than I thought you would be. There’s either more to you or something...”
“Oh, I know,” she offered.
“You do? I guess that’s a good thing, though. At least you know you’re torturing me,” I jested.
“Ha, I guess. I want to be open with you, but that can be scary. So, I’m trying to give you more of myself, piece by piece.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that so long as we are on the same page, but more importantly, are we really going to stay on the floor the rest of the night?” I arched my back as if in pain to both prove a point and hopefully convince her that, despite how glad I was to have her, we needed somewhere we both could sleep.
“Do you want to stay in Ms. Debbie’s bed?”
“Not particularly, but it’s better than the floor and more fitting than the couch.”
“Fine,” she said, raising her head. “But we have to change the sheets.”
“Okay. Deal. You change the sheets, and I’ll wait for you to finish.”
Her eyes cut through the dim light with scorn. Lauren was cute when she was mad, but I dare not say such a thing again. So, I followed her to the bedroom, where I helped her remove the bedding.
Upon spreading and tucking in the fresh linen, I collapsed in exhaustion against the mattress. As I lay waiting for Lauren to join me, she stood quietly, indicating there was something else that was needed before we could fall asleep. Too tired to reason through her thoughts on my own, I decided to ask instead.
“What is it?”
“Would you mind if I borrowed your shirt?” she said timidly.
“My shirt?” But as soon as I questioned her request, the crossing of her legs, followed by the folding of her arms, told me what I needed to know. For whatever reason, she seemed to prefer a long tee over a cute pair of shorts and a top to sleep in. Lucky for me, I was accustomed to sleeping shirtless anyway, but had kept mine on solely because of her. “Sure,” I said, tugging the hem over my head and tossing the shirt to the side. “Is it okay if I sleep in my boxers, too?” I teased, yet half hoped I could for the comfort alone. However, her mocking glare disapproved of my playful attempt.
Falling back onto my pillow, I watched curiously as she took hold of the shirt, wondering if she was going to allow me to see her change. From shyness more than modesty, however, Lauren faced the wall before tugging her shirt from her shoulders and unbuttoning the clasp of her shorts. Teasingly, she stood half-dressed with a pair of white panties adorned with yellow smiley faces peeking from beneath the waist. Allowing the curves of her body to tempt me, Lauren appeared to be daring me to pull her onto the bed and press the smoothness of her skin against mine, and instinctively, I felt the tug of my body’s voluntary impulse to lunge forward and clasp my hands around her. However, the trance soon broke as my shirt fell down her shoulders and clipped the top of her thighs. It was only then that Lauren dared to shimmy the shorts the rest of the way down her legs and unhook the restraint of her bra.
Somewhat satisfied, Lauren sat along the edge of the bed, as if second-guessing what she had agreed to. The taunt from before had not been intentional, but the result of my desire for someone who had yet to match my feelings. As I traced her arm with my fingers, Lauren slowly reclined into the welcoming scent of fresh sheets before tucking her legs under the covers. As we sank further into the softness of the cloud that lulled us to sleep, Lauren found her way into the curve of my body.
The dream of being chased by the man in the black SUV, mixed with a vision of the documents scattered about the floor, caused me to throw my eyes open upon first light. Instantly resisting the urge to bolt up and disturb Lauren, I turned my head toward the other pillow, ensuring I had not done so.
Despite the peacefulness in which she slept, I knew we needed to get going before the neighbors began their morning routine. It was likely too late to remain out of view of the early morning risers, but perhaps our departure would caution their eyes for anyone else that might return to the house.
“Lauren,” I whispered, running my hand along her shoulder.
“Hmm?” she groaned.
“We better get going before the sun comes up.”
“Okay,” she yawned, peeling the covers back from her legs. In contrast to the shyness from the night before, Lauren deftly shed my shirt before finding her bra on the nightstand. I could not help but watch, catching a glimpse of her chest and the white undies she wore. “Getting a good look?” she asked playfully.
“I . . . uh . . .” I stammered upon being caught.
“It’s alright. At least someone can appreciate my body.”
“I can do some more appreciation from the front, if you like,” I laughed.
“I bet,” she said, pulling her shirt into place, then turning to find my lips with hers. “What’s on the agenda for today?”
“Honestly, I’m not really sure.”
“What if we head back to the store, stop for breakfast, of course, then...” she paused, considering that even she was unaware of what was next.
“Let’s start with that, and hopefully, one of us will think of something better between now and then.”
Lifting myself from the bed, I grabbed my shirt as Lauren finished getting dressed. A new scent filled its fibers, one contrary to the aroma that brought back memories of Brooke, leaving me wanting to bask in Lauren’s presence. However, my daydream was soon broken as Lauren began stripping the sheets from the mattress.
“What are you doing?”
“Fixing the place back like we found it. The last thing we want to do is leave something suspicious laying around, especially if it points to us being here.”
“And we’re just going to fold them up and pack them back in the closet?”
“Yep.”
“That’s a little sketchy,” I whispered.
“Would you rather leave the ones she died in lying on the floor?”
Lauren had a point that I could not argue with, so I proceeded to help her with the sheets while troubled by the thought of a forensics team sweeping the house and finding one of our hairs. I had been to Ms. Debbie’s house numerous times, but Lauren had not. Explaining her presence at any time would be very challenging, but we both would be sunk if they noticed the sheets.
Taking hold of the fitted corners, I fumbled around for a good minute as Lauren stopped to watch me struggle with the folds. Her laugh was uncanny, but that only made me like her more. Allowing me to continue to wrestle with the impossible task, she waited until she had finished making the rest of the bed before attempting to help.
“Here,” she said, taking hold of the corners. “It’s simple, really.”
Tossing up my hands, I stood back to watch as she methodically manipulated the folds into a long rectangle, then twisted the sheet around, causing a large, near-perfect square to form.
“But how?”
“I’ve had plenty of practice. Would you like to give it a whirl?” she questioned, acting as though she was about to let the entire thing unravel.
“Nope, I’m fine not knowing.”
Lauren rolled her eyes as she gathered the rest of the bedding, making sure to flatten out the wrinkles. “Probably best,” she teased as she walked over to the closet. I watched Lauren raise up on her toes, attempting to tuck all the bedding into its place on the shelf. A comical grunt resonated from her mouth, as their removal had been a sinch compared to how she now struggled. “Can you give me a hand?”
“It’s probably best,” I poked, but the prod went unentertained as she continued to strain. “Here,” I offered, squatting down. Anchoring Lauren’s legs to my chest, I lifted her from the floor.
“Whoa!” she screeched. “What are you doing? I’ll hit my head on the ceiling.”
“No, you won’t. Just put them on the top shelf.”
Once she realized I would not drop her, Lauren settled in my arms and did as I directed. Daring to push my luck, I raised my eyes upward and glided my chin along her bare stomach between her waist and the hem of her shirt. Then, just as gently, I tugged her skin into my mouth with my lips.
Lauren did not have to say how she felt, for the goosebumps were evidence enough. Yet, as I slowly lowered her to the floor, I found it strange that she never acknowledged me with words or a kiss of her own.
Instead, she revisited the bed, placing her hands at her waist as she surveyed the room. “Is there anything else?”
“I don’t think so,” I said without any reservation.
Lauren began to make her way to the door, but as the question reverberated in my head, I realized there was something else.
“Lauren, why do you think the guy from last night only rummaged through Ms. Debbie’s office?” With a shrug of her shoulders, she seemed to convey she was just as confused as I was. However, the answer was in plain sight. “We need to unmake the bed.”
“Huh?”
“When we came in here, the bed was unmade, or at least the covers were pulled down from where they took her body.”
“Ah, yeah. Sorry, I’m not used to fixing back unmade beds.”
“That’s just it, though.”
“Huh? You’re going to have to explain a little better than that,” she said, with a puzzled look.
“What if we were led to believe that the bedroom was untouched, except for Ms. Debbie? I know it’s a stretch, but...”
“No, I think you may be on to something, but that means there was a reason, and I don’t think it was because the robber took something from in here.”
“You don’t?”
Lauren was shaking her head as a troubling thought claimed her mind. Her eyes were fixed on the pillows she had just fashioned into place. My eyes followed her stare until they landed on the only thing she could have been perceiving.
At first, the small blemish went unseen, and if not looking for something peculiar, the subtle change in pigment along the pillowcase would have gone unnoticed.
“Is that blood?” I asked, but before Lauren could respond with more than a shake of her head, I continued. “But how did you even notice that?”
“I can spot a stain from a mile away. And this is a pink smug, not a red blob.”
“Okay...” I murmured, rolling my eyes. “So, what are you thinking?”
“Did Ms. Debbie always wear pink lipstick?” Lauren asked.
“Ugh, maybe? I never noticed what she wore, but what does that have to do with her getting it on a pillowcase?”
“Well, either it’s not her pillow, or if it is, she would have to be sleeping face down. But what I can’t figure out is why she would wear makeup if she was going to bed.”
I was not sure where Lauren was headed, but suspicion began to rear its head as my mind revisited Ms. Debbie’s last days, in particular when she did not answer my phone calls. “She had mentioned trying to come back to work, but when I called to check on her, it was then I realized something was wrong. Perhaps she had woken up, started getting ready, but wasn’t feeling well, so she went back to bed.”
“Makes sense... You know, I didn’t notice this last night, which means the pillow might have been face down.” Her eyes widened with her own speculation, seeing that meant Ms. Debbie was likely not alone at the time of her death. “We need to get out of here,” she urged.
Without lingering any longer, I followed Lauren from the bedroom toward the living room. She stopped momentarily, peeping outside to see if anyone awaited our departure, before pulling back the door. As she exited hastily, I quickly shut and locked the door in an attempt to catch her on the way down the stairs. I took hold of Lauren’s hand to offer security for one, but also to slow her pace.
We struggled to act casual and purposeful as we walked around the block to her car. Only once we were secure inside did the true state of her uneasiness appear. Her breath came in short bursts, and her hand was shaking as she handed me the keys.
“What if he comes after us next? It’s pretty obvious he wasn’t there for just her money.”
It was then I realized something that Lauren had yet to conceptualize. I dared not bring it to her mind, as she was already a mess. However, she was expecting an answer as she looked to me for reassurance.
“They never saw my face. And we don’t know if murder was a motive or if they were after her money. Maybe it was a home robbery that got messy. Perhaps they figured the old lady was wealthy and living alone, and if they could steal her identity. Identity thieves are always upping their game...” Even as my words spewed out with doubt, I saw the obviousness written across Lauren’s face.
“You know good and well the robber knew Ms. Debbie. They snuck into an unlocked window for crying out loud.” Her voice was full of pain, and part of it was due to my stupid, made-up story that was more of a lie to myself.
“What do you want me to tell you—that I think he’s the one already following us around?”
She cursed under her breath as she settled back into the seat.
We clearly had no clue what was really going on or, more importantly, why. Instead of apologizing or waiting for her to come around, I shifted the car from Park and headed for the only place I knew would be safe.
The drive-back transpired in an awkward silence filled only with our own internal conversations, but as the store came into view, Lauren’s phone began to buzz.