I zipped my jacket and started after her, not bothering to call out to ask her to wait. There was no sense in waking everyone on the street. Besides, if I lagged a little, Nick would have an easier time finding us.
When I made it to the end of the block, I spotted Mrs. Haggerty ahead of me. She carried her flashlight in her hand but hadn’t bothered turning it on. She walked with a purpose, pausing only once to scowl at a car full of teenagers as it zipped by. They rolled through a stop sign, nearly running her over, their music blaring loud enough to rattle the windows of their car. I expected her to whip out her neighborhood watch diary and write down their license platenumber—some scathing documentation she could present at the next meeting of the homeowners association in an attempt to flush out the names of the guilty kids’ parents. I was sure I wasn’t the only person in South Riding who had fantasized about burning those diaries in a bonfire. Mrs. Haggerty only shook her head at the car and kept walking.
I followed, watching her from a distance between glances over my shoulder for Nick. At the next corner, she paused to turn on her flashlight. She fiddled with the switch and shook the handle until the beam finally flickered on. She held it in front of her, clicking it on and off several times before finally giving up and turning it off.
A curtain in the upstairs window of the nearest house parted. I cringed as I wondered who Mrs. Haggerty might have disturbed as she’d been carelessly waving her flashlight about. Mrs. Haggerty, however, didn’t seem concerned. She shambled to the mailbox at the foot of the driveway and tucked a folded piece of paper inside it.
This house probably belonged to the teenager who had almost mowed her down just now. Of course, she hadn’t needed to write down his license plate number when he’d zipped past her, because he had probably done it countless times before. She probably already knew who the kid was, had already documented his infractions in some neighborhood watch grievance report, and had come here prepared to deliver it straight to his parents’ mailbox.
When I glanced up at the house again, the curtain was closed. I lingered there a moment as Mrs. Haggerty resumed her walk. A niggling suspicion burrowed in the back of my mind when no one inside the house bothered to come out. Weren’t they curious about all the flashing lights? Or why someone had visited their mailbox in the middle of the night?
I paused beside it. Curious, I opened the latch and unfolded the paper under the faint glow of the moonlight.
It wasn’t an infraction report. In fact, it wasn’t a neighborhood watch form at all. The note was handwritten on blue-lined paper in Mrs. Haggerty’s shaky, careful penmanship.
Book Club. Saturday. 11am at Vi’s.
I folded the note and placed it back in the mailbox, feeling like a nosy fool as I followed Mrs. Haggerty away from the house. Footsteps echoed behind me. I spun around, hand to my chest as Nick jogged to catch up to me.
His breath steamed as he fell in step beside me. “I thought I told you to wait for me.”
“I thought I told you two minutes,” I whispered. Mrs. Haggerty maintained her steady pace ahead of us, apparently none the wiser that either of us were there. Clearly her hearing was as good as her vision. “Did you find anything noteworthy in my room?” I asked him.
“Your nightstand was particularly interesting. So was the second drawer of your dresser.”
“The granny panties belong to Mrs. Haggerty.”
“I was talking about the second drawer down.”
My face flushed at his smoldering sideways glance. Vero and I had been at the mall a few days ago when I’d spotted the slinky red negligee in a Valentine’s Day clearance bin. Vero had insisted I buy it, but after I’d brought it home, it had seemed a frivolous, impractical purchase. I was pretty sure my kids would be grown and moved out before I’d ever have an occasion to wear it.
“I might have some follow-up questions about the contents of that drawer when your houseguest is gone.”
“Anything else?”
He shrugged. “Nothing dangerous. Just her clothes, some medications, a few books.”
“No manifesto of a criminal mastermind?”
“Not unless you count her neighborhood watch diary.”
I choked on a wry laugh. “I wouldn’t exactly call her diaries harmless.” Mrs. Haggerty had documented more than just rule violations in those diaries. As far as I could tell she had recorded plenty of private dramas as well, including Steven’s and mine. And yet, for all the times she’d shoved her nose into my personal business over the last few years, I still felt guilty for reading the note she’d left in her friend’s mailbox just now.
Mrs. Haggerty turned at the next corner and retraced her steps to my home. I glanced at the time on my phone. We had been patrolling for less than thirty minutes. For someone who had been so concerned with the state of the community, her watch rotation seemed awfully short.
“Looks like she’s heading back to bed.” Nick slipped his hand in mine as we followed her up the driveway. “About that negligee… Is Mrs. Haggerty a sound sleeper?”
I laughed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Detective, but I’m not really in the mood to try after our last encounter.”
His smile was wicked as he pulled me closer to his side. “Promise me you’ll get rid of her tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 4
I awoke at daybreak to the scent of coffee. The pot sputtered and dripped in the kitchen. I blinked my eyes open, bleary and disoriented, my bare legs tangled in the throw blanket on the couch. Nick’s shoes and tie had been lying on the floor beside my sweatpants when I’d finally lost the battle against sleep last night. I rolled over to look for his clothes, but they were gone.
I got dressed and padded to the kitchen as the coffeepot gave one final hiss. A sticky note hung from an empty mug beside the pot, written in Nick’s familiar block letters.
Today. No excuses.
