Free Cadbury Creme Murder by Susan Gillard Page A

Eva.”
     
    Eva
pushed the box toward her.  “This is for you.”
     
    Heather
reached for the box as she gave Eva a questioning look.  “Just open it,” Eva
said.  “Then I’ll explain.”
     
    Carefully,
she lifted the lid off the box to reveal a silver necklace, to which was
attached a single pearl in a silver setting.  “This is beautiful, Eva,” she
said, holding the necklace in both hands.  “But why?”
     
    “It
was Verna’s,” Eva said softly.  “After all you did for her in making sure her
killer was caught, and even in facing him yourself, I asked William if I could
select something of his mother’s for you.”
     
    “But
I can’t—this looks valuable,” she protested.
     
    “William
wants you to have it,” Eva said.  “He would have given it to you himself, but
he’s not able to make a trip back here right now.  He asked me if I would
present it to you with deepest thanks.”
     
    Heather
unhooked the delicate clasp and refastened the pendant around her neck.  “Thank
you,” she said.  “Both you and William.”
     
    Because
Heather was looking down at the way the pearl lay delicately against her
blouse, she didn’t see the person who came in the door.  “Heather?” Eva said,
and Heather looked up at her friend.  “I think you need to see who just came
in.”
     
    Heather
swiveled in her seat to see…Ryan, who stood silently as she met his gaze.
     
    Slowly,
she stood, pushed back her chair, and walked the few yards across the floor to
face him.  “Something I can help you with?” she asked, surprised that her voice
sounded calm.
    “We
need to talk,” he said.
     
    She
hesitated.  “Okay,” she said finally.  “We can use my office.”
     
    “No,
not here,” he said.  “Can you get away for a few minutes?  My car’s parked
right out front.”
     
    “I
suppose so,” she said, taking a step backwards toward the kitchen.  “Let me
just tell Maricela I’m going.”
     
    ***
     
    “Where
are we going?” she asked two minutes later as Ryan pulled his car away from the
curb.
     
    “The
park,” he said. 
     
    Neither
one of them said another word as he drove across town and found an empty parking
space by the playground, which was, for the moment, deserted.  “Shall we sit on
the bench?” he asked. 
     
    “Sure,”
she said.  They got out of the car, and Heather took a seat at one end of the
green wooden bench.  Ryan sat at the other end.
     
    A
light breeze stirred the air as Heather met his gaze.  “What did you want to
talk about?” she asked.
     
    “I’ve
been doing a lot of thinking in the last three and a half weeks,” he said. 
“And I’ve realized some things.”
     
    “Before
you tell me what you realized, why don’t you tell me why you didn’t call me
when you heard about Banner, and what almost happened?” she asked.  “I know we
weren’t dating anymore, but it would have been nice if you had at least called
and said ‘glad you’re okay.’”
     
    “I
couldn’t call you,” he said.
    “Really? 
Your cell phone was on the fritz for three weeks?  You forgot my number and
didn’t know how to look it up?”
     
    “I
was told not to call you.”
     
    “You
were—what?  Who would tell you something like that?” she asked.
     
    “May
I explain?”
     
    “I’m
listening.”
     
    “The
evening that Banner almost killed you,” he began, “I was sitting at home
watching TV.  March Madness.  The phone rang, and it was the chief.  He told me
what had happened out there.  Told me you were okay.  And told me it would be
best if I stayed away from you until the Grand Jury made its decision.  That
way, no one could ever come back and say I influenced your testimony, or you
influenced my investigation.”
     
    She
paused a moment, considering this.  “ Would you have called me, if your
chief hadn’t told you not to?”
     
    “Heather,
I would have been out there on the scene so I could talk to you in person.