"You know how much I want to take them for a visit, but sleep on this tonight and see if you still feel the same way tomorrow." Sheila paused, then added, "You don't know how much it irks me to play fair."
The comment was so Sheila that it pulled Cate back from tearfulness, and the look she gave her mother was full of both love and appreciation. "I do, actually."
Sherry Bishop came over to pat Cate's shoulder. "You need to call the sheriff."
"It isn't that I'm against the idea," Cate said, managing a smile that was only slightly wobbly. "I just don't think there's anything they can do. Those men probably gave me false names, and are long gone anyway. This proves Mr. Layton was up to no good, but even though threatening someone with a pistol is against the law, the bottom line is, no one was hurt. So I could file a report, but that would likely be the end of it. Why bother?"
"They had guns! They robbed you! That's a felony! You have to call the police! It has to be on record, in case they come back."
"I guess you're right." She swiftly glanced over at Calvin.
"Though I don't think I'll mention Mr. Harris hitting one of them on the head." She looked away just as quickly, oddly disturbed. One memory kept popping into her head with shattering clarity, and that was the way he'd looked with that shotgun aimed right at Mellor's head. She'd had no doubt he would pull the trigger, and she realized Mellor had come to the same conclusion. In that single moment she'd seen a part of Calvin she'd never dreamed existed, and she couldn't reconcile the painfully shy, gentle handyman with the man whose eyes had been so cold and his hands so steady on that deadly weapon.
No one else seemed surprised by what he'd done, so maybe she was the only one who'd been blind. The simple fact was. since Derek's death she had focused completely on raising the boys and running the bed-and-breakfast, and nothing else had impinged on her awareness. She hadn't fell curious about, any of her neighbors, hadn't asked any questions that would have given her information about who and what they were beyond the surface of daily living. She had got through the years alone by pulling in and plowing on, dealing with what she had to, and blocking out everything else. Overwhelmed as she'd been, that was the only way she could have survived.
What else lay behind the kindness of her neighbors? Neenah was her closest friend here, but Cate really didn't know anything about her. She didn't even know why she'd left the religious order. Was that because Neenah didn't want to talk about it, or because Cate had never asked? She felt ashamed, and ached inside because of the years of friendship wasted, when she could have reached out and hadn't.
They were all here now, her neighbors, gathering as soon as they'd heard there was trouble. She had no doubt that, had they known in time, they'd have faced down Mellor and Huxley with whatever weapons they had at hand. After knowing these people for three years, she felt as if she was for the first time actually seeing them. Right now Roy Edward had sat down and was taking things out of" his pocket to show Tanner, trying to entice him into talking. Her dealings with Roy Edward before had made her think he was crotchety and impatient, but he seemed to be connecting because Tanner had taken his finger out of his mouth and was leaning close, interest written on his face as he examined a pocketknife and a buckeye.
Milly came over to pat Cate's shoulder. "If you don't mind my taking over your kitchen, I'll brew a little tea for you and Neenah. Tea's more the thing than coffee when you're upset. Don't know why, but there it is."
"I'd love some tea," Cate said, dredging up another smile, though she really didn't want any tea. She and Neenah had been drinking tea when Mellor had come into the kitchen and pointed his gun at them. She suspected Milly felt the need to do something, and cooking was her chosen arena. Neenah had heard Milly's offer; Cate glanced across the room and their gazes met. Neenah made a little grimace, then looked rueful. She felt the same way as Cate about drinking tea again just now.
Rather than put the call off, and also because she wanted to be able to tell everyone gathered there what Seth Marbury said, Cate slipped away to the family den and called the sheriff's department one more time. He didn't answer the phone, so she left a voice mail message, then leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes, using the relative peace and quiet of the room to steady her frayed nerves. She could hear the rise and fall of voices in the dining room, sometimes sharp with anger on their behalf, but for the most part the discussions had calmed down.
The phone rang before she could gather the strength to return, and it was Marbury returning her call.
"I'm not certain I understood exactly what you said." His tone was crisp and alert, which made her think he'd understood, but wasn't certain he believed.
"Two men checked in today," she explained, "then came downstairs a short while later and held a pistol on Neenah Dase and me, demanding I give them the things Jeffrey Layton left behind. I did, and they left. I think it's safe to say Mr. Layton was up to no good, and neither were these two men."
"What were their names?" Marbury asked.
"Mellor and Huxley."
"First names?"
"Let's see." She got up to go into the hall and get her guest book, and hesitated when she saw Calvin Harris standing just inside the room, listening to her side of the conversation. He had a vested interest, so she waved him farther into the room as she fetched the guest book and brought it into the den.
"They're listed as Harold Mellor and Lionel Huxley.
"How did they pay?"
"The man who called yesterday afternoon and made the reservations for them gave me a credit card number. I think it was the same man who called pretending to be from the rental car agency. I can't be certain, but I think the voice was the same. And the Caller ID said Unknown Name, Unknown Number both times.