Wallis drove off, turning out of the neighborhood and heading up Ridgefield Drive toward Pump Road. She turned right and drove to the new mall where Pump Road changed names and drove around the almost empty parking lot, curving around to the back near the super-sized Dick’s Sporting Goods store that faced a thinning woods. Richmond had a hard time not developing every square inch of land. Those trees won’t last long either, thought Wallace.
She slowed the car down enough to slip her shoes off and pulled neatly between two parked cars, checking her rear view mirror. No one in sight. She dropped the shoes gently out of the window as small phosphorescent flakes glittered on the bottom of the right shoe. She pulled her feet up off of the floor of the car and carefully rolled up the floor mat, depositing it next to the shoes. The engine churned as she pushed the gas pedal down with her bare foot and headed back toward Pump Road.
Norman was sitting up in bed reading when she got home. He had his half-glasses on and the covers pulled up to his chest, exposing the faded white t-shirt he loved to wear to bed.
“Hello,” he said, putting down the paperback.
“I made a complete ass of myself tonight,” said Wallis, dropping her purse. The folder was sticking out of her open purse. She gently shut the door behind her, placing the prized candle on the tall-boy and peeled off her blouse and skirt, letting them drop to the floor. “Where’s Ned?”
“He fell asleep reading about black holes and what might lie on the other side of them. I tucked him in. What’d you do?” he asked with his usual placid expression firmly in place. “And may I say I have always appreciated your sense of lingerie, dear. Thank you for never giving in to parachute pants.”
“I had a mild outburst during Bunko. Questioned someone’s motives a little too loudly.” Wallis glanced down at the matching pale green lace bra and panties and let out a sigh. She climbed the two steps and got on the bed, resting on her knees.
Norman raised an eyebrow and sat up a little straighter. “That’s not like you. Someone try to take your candle?”
Wallis glanced back at the candle and smiled. “There was a whole candle theme. It’ll come in handy on some stormy night,” she said. “No, I won that fair and square. But Julia Croft mentioned Roger’s getting a free ride to Sutler next year and she used some of the same language as Stanley. I’m afraid I snapped at her just a little.”
“That’s enough to make you an ass? Take longer looks at some of our clients, my love. That doesn’t even qualify as an outburst. More of a brief rude comment.”
“You should have seen Julia’s reaction, then. She was crying on my shoulder.”
“That’s something,” said Norman, “but nothing to do with you. Come here,” he said, holding out his hand across the bed. “This Woermer’s paranoia is spreading to you. Julia could have so many other things going on that are completely unrelated. Take you, for example. Did you snap at her because you were mad at her?”
Wallis let out another sigh and shook her head. “No, but I was good and mad. You’re right though, Stanley Woermer did get to me.” She moved closer to Norman. “And I think someone followed him. I can’t be sure, but I caught a glimpse of someone in the bookstore and he seemed to leave in a hurry by the back door. Apparently that door was only used to occasionally take out the trash. The lock looked like it might have been taped open, like someone knew we were meeting.”
“What did Stanley say? Did he notice?”
“He had already left, but something or someone startled him on the way out. He said Ray Billings had found some system of promoting certain boys that had a nasty out clause.”
“Ah, a conspiracy.”
“Yeah. Why are those always so hard for any of us to get on board with?” she said, resting back on her heels.
“Because humans by nature are all blabbermouths to some degree. We expect to know about it.”
“Yes, well, that raises another good point. Julia reminded me that she’d asked me about this whole thing three years ago and I had barely blinked. Congratulated her on cracking the system around here. Wouldn’t a really good conspiracy be like a good lie?” she asked, reaching out to pull back the covers next to Norman. “Make it as innocuous as possible? Put it out there in front of everyone?”
“Well, what would be the master plan of this particular conspiracy?”
“I don’t know,” said Wallis, stretching out next to Norman. “But for the second time in a day someone was waiting for me in bushes.”
“Stanley again?” said Norman, sitting up and taking off his glasses. “Come back to finish his story?”
“No, and I’m not sure Stanley knew much more anyway. This one called himself Helmut. He was big into the conspiracies. Hinted at bigger things. Ran off though when Ralph started barking.”
“Were you scared?”
“Not any more than I already was. He seemed to want to help. Of course isn’t that what they teach in serial killer school? Kill them first with kindness?”
“Apparently this Helmut flunked,” said Norman. “What now? There seems to be something going on.”
“Right, but what,” said Wallis. “Helmut wanted my shoes and said people were using them to follow me.”
“Your shoes? Where are they?”
“I dumped them,” said Wallis. “Which means either I dumped credible evidence or got spooked enough to get rid of a good pair of shoes.”