Chapter Eight #2
“Accepted.” He took another donut and left the rest with the women. “I’ll go back to my vehicle now. I just wanted to bring you breakfast.”
Elle’s smile was warm. “Thank you.”
Her smile hit him squarely in the chest. She was beautiful.
Electric. He managed a nod. “You’re welcome.
Oh, and one of our detectives will be visiting the pharmacy today.
He’s not interfering with the homicide investigation.
He just needs to ask Eunice Greene some questions about another case. Eunice is the manager.”
“And the owner,” Sara said.
“Like I said, good information. I figure you’ve already identified all the major players in the sheriff’s department, so don’t freak out when you see him.” He opened his door and got out, slipping back into his SUV.
It was time to wait and hope Reece Miller’s wife would return sooner versus later.
Fort Bragg, California
Friday, January 23, 6:45 p.m.
Sara stiffened in the passenger seat of the Tahoe. “Is that her?”
Elle used her binoculars to study the young woman walking into the pharmacy. They were coming to the end of a very long stakeout day and Elle’s legs were stiff. “No, she’s the wrong body type. Not Wendy Miller.”
Wendy Miller was medium height with a round, curvy figure. She had long black hair she wore in a braid down her back.
This woman was tiny and blond and carried a baby against her body in a wrap carrier.
She also wore large dark sunglasses even though the sun had set more than an hour before. She hunched in on herself as she walked, as if she were trying to make herself even smaller.
Oh. Oh no.
Elle knew that hunched-in pose. She’d seen it in the mirror. She knew that walk. She’d walked it herself.
Up until the last night of his life, Todd had never hit her in the face, so she’d never needed to wear sunglasses at night, but many of her Sarasota clients had needed them.
Making a sudden decision, she grabbed her handbag. “I’m going to pick up something from the drugstore.”
Sara stared at her. “What? Why?”
“I ate all my mushroom candy, and I need more.”
“You need more or you want more?”
“Need it. And no, it’s not actually addictive or psychotropic. I asked.”
And Ronan had laughed. He was so beautiful when he laughed.
“I thought you got that bag at the CVS.”
Ooh. Busted. Sara had an ear for detail and a brain that remembered everything.
“I bet they’ll have it here, too.”
Because there was no way she was telling Sara that Ronan had given her that candy. The fallout wasn’t worth it.
She stretched as soon as her feet hit the pavement, her movements jerky as she tapped on Ronan’s SUV window. He immediately rolled the window down.
“That’s not Wendy Miller,” he said.
“I know. I was going to tell you that. I need something from inside the pharmacy. I’m having a craving for candy.”
His lips twitched but, aware of Sara listening, only said, “Thank you for letting me know.”
She’d get her candy and she’d make sure that young woman was okay. She wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight if she didn’t.
“Elle, wait.”
Elle turned at Sara’s words. “You want something, too?”
“No. You can’t go in there. What if Wendy comes now?”
“It’s closing time. It’s highly unlikely she’ll be coming now. If she does, I’ll put up my hood, cover my hair, and make sure she doesn’t see my face.”
“Elle,” Sara hissed.
“Sara,” Elle snapped, and they both froze in surprise. It had been a long time since Elle had snapped at Sara. The last time had been on a girls’ vacation, and Elle’s headache had made Sara’s diatribe about the cost of avocados unbearable. She’d immediately apologized back then.
She didn’t apologize today. She was tired of Sara treating her like a child.
She was starting to believe that the people who said that going into business with friends was a bad idea had a point.
“Back off, Sara,” she murmured. “Please.”
Lips pursed, Sara said no more. But she didn’t nod.
Elle thought that Ronan would be amused by their exchange, but a glance in his direction showed only concern. She hoped he didn’t say anything to Sara in her absence.
She made it into the pharmacy with five minutes to spare. An older lady wearing a blue pharmacist’s smock called out, “We close in five, hon.”
It was said kindly, with a welcoming smile, so Elle smiled back. “I’ll be quick. I promise. Where’s the mushroom candy?”
The woman eyed her carefully and Elle could tell the moment the penny dropped because her eyes went wide. “I sold some candy cap caramels to someone in the last five minutes yesterday, too. He said they were an olive branch gift. Did they work?”
Elle grinned. “They did. I was horrified at first, but now I’m addicted.”
The woman chuckled. “They’re in aisle three, next to the M&M’s.”
Convenient. She’d bring some M&M’s to Sara as an olive branch.
She got the candy, then made her way to the aisle where the young woman stood with her baby. She was standing as if frozen, staring at the wound care shelf. It didn’t appear that she was seeing anything.
Elle reached over and picked up a jar of arnica. “This will help,” she said softly.
The young woman jolted, gasping. “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” The woman had already been scared enough.
That much was clear. “Look, we only have two minutes until the store closes, so I’ll cut to the chase.
I know you’ve been hurt. I’ve worked with too many women who’ve experienced domestic violence.
The arnica will help with the bruising. I can see it below your glasses. Do you need help?”
The young woman took the jar and barked a hysterical laugh. “Nobody can help me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. If this town doesn’t have a shelter, I will personally drive you to Willits or Ukiah. They’ll have one.”
Elle became aware of someone behind them. She looked over her shoulder to see the older woman in the smock watching. Her expression was sober, but so kind that Elle’s eyes suddenly burned with hot tears.
This woman also understood.
There was a…fellowship among women unfortunate enough to be in the know. A bond of shared trauma.
Elle turned back to the young woman. “Has he hit you before?”
The young woman shrugged, then grimaced in pain. Elle wondered about the injuries hidden beneath her clothes.
Aware of the time, Elle dug into her handbag for a business card and wrote her cell phone number on the back. “If you need help of any kind, you call me. I’ll come. I’m here for at least a few more days. Maybe a week.”
Because she’d just now decided that, once they caught Reece Miller, she was going to take a vacation in this small town with its amazing views of the sea.
And a detective with the sheriff’s office who made her feel seen and appreciated. And respected.
Maybe they could be friends.
She offered the card to the young woman, who stared at it like it was poison ivy.
“Does he change your baby’s diapers?” she asked when the woman made no move to take the card.
Another hysterical laugh that ended on a sob. “No. He never even holds the baby. That’s my job.”
So Elle tucked the card into the wrap carrier. “If you need help a month from now and I’ve gone home, text me anyway. I’ll find someone to take you and your baby to a shelter. You have options. My name is Elle. I’ve helped a lot of women in your shoes.”
And I finally helped myself.
She had to remember that when she felt guilt and shame.
“You have?” The question was uncertain.
“I have. Not here in California, but elsewhere. I’m a lawyer. If you need any kind of legal advice or help, I can provide that, too. You aren’t alone.”
The young woman pulled the card from her baby’s carrier, her mouth turning down in a frown. “This says ‘Fugitive Recovery Agent.’ What’s that?”
“I’m a bounty hunter. But I’m a lawyer, too. I promise. What’s your name?”
“Annie.” She slipped the card back into the carrier. “Annie Purvis.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Annie. I know it feels like you’re all alone, but you’re not. I promise.”
Annie’s throat worked as she swallowed. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Annie?”
Both Elle and Annie turned to the woman behind them. Annie stiffened, fear making her body rigid, but the woman only smiled that kind, kind smile.
“I’m Eunice. This is my store. My sister Teresa runs the women’s shelter here in town. If you’d like, I’ll write her number next to Ms. Randolph’s.”
Elle hadn’t spoken her last name aloud, so Eunice knew exactly who Elle was.
Elle wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. I guess that depends on whether she was friends with Dianne Foster. Or on what Ronan told her.
Annie hesitated.
“It’s okay to ask for help,” Elle urged. “You are not being a burden.”
With the speed of molasses in the Arctic, Annie retrieved the card and handed it to Eunice, who quickly wrote a phone number next to Elle’s cell.
“Teresa will help you, no questions asked,” Eunice said. “I promise. Take the arnica. You don’t have to pay for it. Save your money for your baby or for when you decide you’re ready to leave.”
Annie nodded and fled.
Elle exhaled slowly. “I promised to be quick, but I’ve kept you from closing. I’m sorry.”
Eunice reached for Elle’s hand and sandwiched it between hers. “You are a good person, Elle Randolph. I saw your interview after you rescued that baby from the fire and I thought you were sincere. I’m glad I was right.”
Elle swallowed hard, much as Annie had done. “I’ve been where Annie is. It’s so hard to ask for help.”
Eunice blinked, but she quickly controlled her surprise. “Were you serious? Will you really come help her if she calls you?”
“I will. I’m glad there’s a place here on the coast for women like Annie. Like I was. Please thank your sister for me. She does a hard job.”
“I know. I volunteer there. Are you really a lawyer?”
“I am. Licensed in California and everything. I did a lot of pro bono work back in Florida where I came from. It kept me going. Gave me purpose. And then I realized I was like the women I’d been helping for so long.”
“So you left?”
“Kind of. He died.”
“Oh. Did he hit you?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m not sorry he’s dead.”