Page 88 of The Shop on Royal Street
I scrambled out of the car and ran to the front steps without waiting for Michael. I pushed open the slightly ajar door and rushed up the stairs, stumbling twice because the walls wouldn’t keep still. A dog barked, and when I threw open the door at the top of the steps, a gray and white fur ball threw itself at me, followed by a tongue bath on my face and neck.
I put Mardi back on the ground as Michael came up the stairs behind me and we both took in the scene. Jolene sat on the sofa with a throw blanket held in place on her shoulders by Jaxson, who was sitting next to her. She wore one of her pretty high-collared nightgowns, her bare toes peeking out from under the ruffled hem. A uniformed police officer sat in the chair across from them with a notepad and pen writing something down. Another police officer stood in the doorway leading to the front room, the remnants of a smashed Barbie head scattered in the doorway, a clump of blond hair still clinging to a part of plastic scalp lying near a chair leg and a set of full lips sitting on the base of the floor lamp.
My brain didn’t seem capable of making any sense of the various optical stimuli making me feel oddly as if I were inside a Rorschach test. “What...?” was all I could force out of my mouth.
Jaxson said, “There was an intruder tonight and Jolene managed to fend him off with a large Barbie head.”
“Oh, my gosh. Jolene! Are you okay?” I ran over to her and sat down on the couch on the other side of her, dislodging Jaxson’s arm with my own hug.
“I’m so sorry, Nola. I promise to get you another one. But when Mardi started barking, I knew it couldn’t be you. And you’d left Barbie on my dressing table, so it was the only thing I could think of to use for a weapon.”
I blinked hard. “I don’t care about the Barbie—are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. I don’t know why everyone is making such a fuss. I just wish I’d hit him harder so he would still be here when the police arrived.”
I put my hands on my head to stop it from spinning. “Jolene, you could have been seriously hurt—or worse. Thank goodness you weren’t. Did you get a good look at him?”
“No. It was dark, but it’s like he didn’t think anybody was home, because he was making plenty of noise. Ace was able to fix my car sooner than we’d thought, so I drove straight here even though I knew I’d be too late to get you ready for the party. By the way—I love whatyou did to your hair.” She smiled. “Anyway, I had to park Bubba on a side street because there was a party at the frat house next door and they were blocking our driveway. So I guess the intruder just assumed nobody was home. The guy went directly to the front room—I know because I jumped out of bed just as soon as Mardi started growling. I grabbed the Barbie, flipped on the light, and that’s where I found him. I didn’t even think—I just rushed him and then bashed him over the head. He ran toward the stairs and I chased him, but he kept going.”
“Jolene!” I glanced over at Jaxson, whose bed-head hair was a dead giveaway that he’d been jerked from a sound sleep. “Were you here when all of this was happening?”
“No!” he and Jolene said in unison.
“I called him right after I called the police,” Jolene explained. “I called Beau first, since he’s closest, but when he didn’t answer I called Jaxson. I didn’t want to bother you, but I didn’t want to be alone while I waited for the police.”
“Bother me?” I shook my head. “Oh, my gosh. This could have been so much worse.” I hugged her again. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Are you Miss Trenholm, the roommate?” the police officer with the notepad asked.
“I am.”
“And where were you tonight?”
“I was at the sculpture garden for a NOMA fund-raiser with...” I realized that Michael wasn’t in the room. We all seemed to suddenly become aware of the sound of Mardi emitting a low and continuous growl and we turned in unison toward the doorway, where Michael still stood, his entrance being checked by our vicious guard dog disguised as a marshmallow.
“Mardi, come,” I said, patting my knee.
With one last look at Michael, Mardi trotted toward me, then lay down at my feet.
“With Michael Hebert,” I finished, sending Michael an apologetic smile. He crossed the room to stand next to the couch, his handrubbing my back, the dog giving him a warning look before lying back down. “Did Mardi at least get a chunk out of the guy’s leg?”
Jolene looked at the little dog. “I didn’t want him to get hurt, so I closed him up in my room when I rushed out with the Barbie head.” With a bright smile, she said, “All’s well that ends well, right?”
“Right,” I said. I looked up at Michael, but he was looking at Mardi, a deep V between his brows.
For the next hour we answered questions for the police, and then waited for them to dust for fingerprints and bag up the remains of the doll head to see if they could find any trace evidence. As they stood to leave, Jolene said, “Can I get you nice officers a piece of pecan pie? I made it last night, so it’s fresh. If you don’t have time to eat it right now, I can make you some to go.”
“Thanks, but no,” the first officer said. “It’s unlikely the intruder will come back tonight, but make sure you put the chain on your front door since the dead bolt has been tampered with, and call a locksmith first thing. You might also consider investing in an alarm for the entry points.” Then they left, promising to keep an eye on the apartment and to be in touch with any news.
Despite their insistence that they should stay, Jolene and I assured Jaxson and Michael that we’d be fine alone. It was as if by unspoken agreement we decided that we needed to prove to ourselves that we were strong enough—and brave enough—to get through what was left of the night together.
After promises to keep our phones on and close by, we let the two men out the front door, Michael turning back for a quick good-night kiss and a promise to call in the morning. Jolene and I not only set the chain but piled furniture and frying pans in front of both the front and back doors so that if anyone succeeded in getting past the lock, we’d know about it long before they made it up the stairs.
We went to bed—after I had removed all makeup while Jolene supervised—in our respective rooms, with our doors open and Mardi on high alert in case anyone should dare try again to breach our defenses. Before Jaxson left, he put Bubba in the driveway to alert anyonewho might be watching that the apartment wasn’t empty, and then Jolene and I turned on every light just in case. I somehow even remembered to take two aspirin with an entire glass of water.
As tired as I was, I tossed and turned, disjointed thoughts darting in and out of my head like angry bees, Beau’s accusations about Michael swirling around the unasked questions about why an intruder had been in our apartment. Nothing made sense. I kept checking my phone to see if Michael had texted me, to give me an excuse to text him the single question that wouldn’t leave me alone, but my phone remained dark and silent.
Eventually, I gave up all pretext of sleeping and sat up in my bed, holding my phone and staring at it as if I could will a text to appear. Or make it ring. Mardi stirred in his bed, then looked at me with such a pitiful expression that I had to pat the mattress only once before he leapt up and settled next to me, his head resting on my leg. Instead of closing his eyes, he kept staring at me as if waiting for me to do the one thing I didn’t think I could.
