He picked up on her tone and attitude with that additional slightly mumbled sentence. From the looks of her reactions, this was a tough conversation, but he sensed this could be a point to put in their circle. “I asked Kennett to make sure he checked for footprints behind the pine tree at the end of your porch. Plus, to check them against any that showed up at Peyton’s.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“Do you know whose footprint that is?” Kennett asked, pulling out his pen and small notepad.
As if a switch had been flipped, the strong, observant, clearheaded Betsy lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. “I don’t know for sure, but I’ve got my suspicions. But I doubt it will be of help.”
“You tell us what you know. We’ll work it from there,” Cain said. “Just start from the very first time you thought someone was there.”
Again, she bit the side of her lip. Shivered. “It’s getting colder out here. Can we sit in the truck?”
A minute later she and Cain were in the front seat, while Kennett sat in the back, eating his sandwich. The heater’s warmth made the tense conversation better in one respect, at least.
“The first time I ever knew someone was there, was about three months before Phillip died in the car crash. He’d said he was going out front to sit on the porch, but he still hadn’t come back in by the time I finished cooking dinner, so I went out to get him.” Betsy paused, then went on. “He was standing at the end of the porch, staring down behind the tree.
“Guess he didn’t hear me walk up, because when I reached out to hug him, he grabbed my arm and tried to block me from seeing what he was doing. I heard rustling at the edge of the porch, but when I glanced over, the person behind the tree had pulled a branch partly in front of himself. Phillip jerked me back and that’s when I heard a small pop in my wrist, felt a shooting pain up my arm.”
She rubbed her forearm as her face morphed into a stare of dazed expression, like memories playing out in her mind. “Even though Phillip hadn’t meant to hurt me, he had. I wore an ACE bandage for a few days. Told people I fell off the back deck and hurt my arm when I broke my fall. Finally, Marcy insisted I needed to go to the doctor, so she took me to the orthopedist.”
Betsy rubbed her forearm once again. “I ended up with pins in my wrist.”
Cain suddenly had his answer as to why she did that a lot when she seemed nervous. Or scared. “Did you get a look at the guy?”
“Not really.” She moved her hands trying to sketch the person in the air. “He seemed to be dressed in black with a white shirt or jacket or… I don’t know. There was something white. I don’t know what it was. I never saw him again.” She sighed. “Phillip told me to never follow him to the front porch if I saw him talking to someone behind the tree. Said he owed some guy some money and they were working everything out. Said I shouldn’t worry. Didn’t concern me.”
Kennett jotted something on his notepad. “I’m confused. You mentioned the guy had been here a few times. But you just said you never saw him again.”
Betsy nodded. “That’s right. If the guy came back while Phillip was alive, I don’t know, because I never again went on the front porch when my husband had gone out there. Of course, a few weeks later there was a night we were arguing, and Phillip got really mad.”
“What about?” Cain asked.
She shrugged. “Said he was under a lot of stress. Me…I thought he was doing drugs again. He didn’t deny it. But he asked me to trust him just a little longer. Said he’d explain everything once we were safe.”
“Safe?” Cain cringed. “Did you feel scared, Betsy?”
“That night I did, so once Phillip went to bed, I called my uncle to come and get me. Grabbed a few things and waited on the front porch, but before Uncle Cal arrived, Phillip found me outside. He wasn’t mad by then. Just looked determined. Swore I’d understand everything soon. He didn’t even ask me to stay, instead he walked me to my uncle’s car, kissed me on the forehead and said I’d be safer someplace else.”
Cain exchanged glances with Kennett. What had Phillip really been involved in? He was clearly thinking of Betsy in that moment. Why was he afraid for her? He had a lot of questions that were going to require a lot of answers. The biggest question was where this was all leading.
Betsy stared at the dashboard as if remembering that night, then slightly smiled. “As I got in the car, he said I’d be proud of him. Even looked Uncle Cal straight in the eye and told him he’d be proud, too. So, I left him standing in front of the house and went to live with Mama and Truman for a bit, then my uncle’s family, then Marcy. Phillip and I would meet and talk, and before long everything seemed better.”
She swiped her cheeks. “We had moved back in together the week before the company picnic. Things had been good. We enjoyed the company picnic for a while, then Phillip and Papa C disappeared for over an hour. When they came back, things seemed to have changed. My husband hovered over me like I was piece of gold, but he stayed awfully quiet. Kept glancing around. I was tired by the time it all shut down that evening. We’d ridden over with Papa C, so we had to wait till he was ready to leave, which was late. Phillip knew I was worn out from the long day, so he said I should lay down in the back seat and go to sleep.”
Sucking in a deep, loud sob of emotion, her chin quivered as she told them the rest of what she remembered about that night. About the argument between Phillip and Papa C. About her husband standing up for her, ready to protect her from some unknown. About how the tires blowing out sounded just like gunshots that night.
“Phillip released his seatbelt. Tried to grab the steering wheel.” She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. “And Phillip died trying to save us.”
Kennett swiped his palm down his face, then turned to stare outside. All of them sat quietly for a couple of minutes.
Cain hated putting her through this, but she seemed willing to share the story. Maybe even happy to share the story with someone besides herself. “Just one more thing, Betsy. When do you think the guy came back?”
Kennett cleared his throat and nodded from the back seat. His attention back on alert professionalism. “Even if you can’t remember the exact time frame, how many times do you think he’s been here? And what happened?”
She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out, then stared into the distance as if replaying scenes in her mind. Cain noticed she tapped one finger on her glove. Then repeated the process again. Two fingers. Again. Three.
“Three times for sure. Maybe four, but one could have been a squirrel.” She smiled weakly. “The first time was about a year ago after the wreck. Always at the window at the far end of the living room. The one just off the front porch and behind the tree, exactly where Phillip and him had been. Never says anything. Never leaves anything”
She pulled her gloves off. Tossed her hat on the seat. And switched the heat down a couple notches. “Okay, guys, that’s all I’ve got. And it has gotten dang hot in here.”
