Safe In His Arms

The door closed behind her and Anise sat down on the toilet, the tiny room filling with steam as her fingers went to her T-shirt and then her jacket. The fabric was stiff but she managed to get the buttons undone. Slipping out of her jeans, she folded everything carefully and put it all in the paper bag. She creased the top of the bag and set it aside.

Nausea swamped her a moment later. She barely had time to get the lid up before the hot gush came. When it was over, she stepped into the shower.

The tears that came next were as unexpected as the vomiting. And just as violent. For a heartbeat, she couldn’t catch her breath and that brought with it a claustrophobic panic. Then she gasped loudly and air filled her lungs once again. The last time Anise had cried had been the day of the fire. Crying hadn’t helped her then, she’d realized, so why bother? She hadn’t shed a single tear over anything since and she tried to keep her emotions in just as tight a check.

Her efforts to stay in control failed her tonight, though, and she didn’t know why. Grief wasn’t the reaction sweeping over her; she and Kenneth hadn’t been close for months. It was simple horror. She couldn’t forget the image of him in her arms. The sounds he’d made, the blood everywhere, his body going limp…

She held her face under the showerhead and let the water pelt her. For five minutes she didn’t move, then finally she reached for the soap and began to scrub. When she cut off the water and pulled the curtain back, Sarah had opened the door.

She stood on the threshold, a mug in one hand, alarm on her face. She’d obviously heard Anise crying. “Do you want your tea or something else?”

Shaken by the storm still swirling inside her, Anise didn’t move. She couldn’t move. Sarah pulled a towel from the bar beside the shower and handed it to her. “Dry off,” she fussed. “You’re gonna get chilled.”

Anise took the towel from Sarah’s hands and dropped her face into its warmth. For a second she hid her face in it, her hair dripping, then she wrapped it around her body and accepted the mug of tea.

Sarah leaned against the door frame, a frown on her forehead. “Are you okay?”

“As okay as I’m going to be, at least for a while.” Her voice trailed off and she had to force herself to speak again. “I…I don’t even know how I feel, to be honest. It’s not like we were still in love or anything but I can’t stop shaking. And I keep thinking about what he looked like.” She shuddered. “I’ve never had anyone die in my arms before….”

“I can’t believe it even happened.” Sarah shook her head. “Who on earth would do such a thing? Do they think it was random or…”

“I don’t think they think anything right now,” Anise answered. She took a sip of the hot tea, some of her equilibrium returning as she told Sarah about the phone call Kenneth had received. The doorbell rang in the middle of her explanation.

“That’s Madelyn. I called her as soon as I could.” Sarah straightened then went to open the door for Anise’s neighbor. Madelyn Sutcliff had been friends with Anise and Sarah since they’d met ten years previous. Sarah had taken on one of Madelyn’s sculptures to sell and over time, the three had grown close. Madelyn served as the mother figure, the wise older woman, the one who had all the answers. Having a master’s degree in counseling helped as well. When she entered Anise’s living room a few minutes later, though, she had nothing but questions, her expression pained, her apprehension obvious.

“Oh, Anise…sweetheart! I don’t know what to say!” She crossed the room and enveloped Anise in her arms, her touch as comforting as the heavy bathrobe Anise had put on. “I’m so sorry!”

Anise patted Madelyn on the arm. “I’m sorry, too,” she said. “It’s so awful….”

“Tell me what happened.”

The three women took their usual places in Anise’s living room but the conversation was so far removed from anything they’d ever discussed before the situation felt surreal. For what was beginning to feel like the hundredth time, Anise explained how Kenneth had died. Thirty minutes after Madelyn arrived, the doorbell rang again. They looked at each other then Anise spoke. “That’s got to be the cop.”

“He’s just going to have to wait,” Sarah announced, jumping up from the couch. “You’re exhausted! You can’t talk to him now. I’ll tell him he has to come back later—”

“No.” Anise rose to her feet as well, her answer stopping Sarah’s progress toward the door. “I want to get it over with. I’ll talk to him.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea—”

“I know what you think, Sarah. Everyone always knows what you think. But this time, you’re wrong. I…I need to talk to him, okay?”

Anyone else would have taken offense at Anise’s words; Sarah ignored them. She threw open the front door and glared at the detective on the front porch.

“Anise can’t talk to you right now,” she said. “She’s too upset. You’re going to have to come back tomorrow.”

Before the man could answer, Anise came up behind Sarah and put a restraining hand on her shoulder. “That won’t be necessary. I can talk to you now.” Her eyes met Daniel Bishop’s, and underneath her touch, she felt Sarah stiffen.

“That’s good.” He ignored Sarah as effectively as Anise did, his own gaze steady and direct. “Because tomorrow might be too late. I need some answers tonight if I’m going to catch who did this.”

Sarah huffed her indignation. “You can’t be serious, Anise! You need to res—”

The investigator’s attitude was mellow but beneath it was a subtle strength impossible to dismiss. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Ms. Levy. I’m sure you understand why.”

“I don’t understand at all.” Sarah crossed her arms and stood her ground.

Anise felt Madelyn at her elbow. She introduced the older woman to Bishop, then watched as she took Sarah’s arm.

“We have to let the man do his work, Sarah. You come to my house. Anise can call us when they finish and we’ll come back.” She flashed Anise a look of sympathy. “We’ll spend the night with you, sweetheart.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Anise leaned over and kissed Sarah on the cheek, then did the same with Madelyn. “I’ll be fine. You two go on.”

Madelyn nodded but Sarah began to shake her head.

“Leave,” Anise said firmly. “I’ll call you after we finish.”

“You promise?” Sarah asked. “Cross your heart and hope to die? Stick a needle in your eye?”

Anise smiled at the childhood whimsy. How many times had she and Sarah made those pledges to each other? Too many to count, she was sure. She made an X over her chest. “I promise.”

Bishop stepped aside and held the door open. Sending him one last glare, Sarah walked past the cop and Madelyn followed.

CHAPTER THREE

“YOUR FRIENDS ARE very protective,” Bishop said as soon as the door closed behind the women. “How long have you known each other?”

“Forever.” Anise led him into her living room. “Would you like a cup of tea? We were having one when you came.”

A drink would have been better but he kept that to himself. “Tea would be nice,” he said. “Thank you.”

He followed her to the kitchen, taking in the small house as they went down a short hallway. He’d been surprised when he’d learned she lived in the Heights. The modest one-story bungalow was typical for the older neighborhood but he’d mentally put her in a classier, more expensive part of town. A lot of artist types were fond of the area, though, so it made sense.

The hall opened into a galley kitchen, a glass-topped table at one end in front of a wall of windows that revealed a well-tended backyard. She had lights at the base of all the trees. They threw spooky shadows everywhere.

“How long is forever?”

She looked at him over her shoulder. “A very long time. Sarah’s parents raised me after my mother died and I met Madelyn through the gallery when I was in my twenties. Sarah owns Levy’s Art Gallery downtown and she represents both of us.”

“Officer Carter told me you’re an artist.”

“That’s right.”

He expected her to elaborate but she didn’t so he said nothing more. There would be time for that later. The answers he didn’t get usually told him more than the ones he got, regardless.

“You have a nice place here.” Turning to the window, he watched her reflection in the glass. She moved with grace as she filled the kettle and gathered the tea supplies. “It’s very comfortable. The Heights is getting popular. Prices are rising.”

“I bought it ten years ago.”

“Was that before you got married?”