Page 93 of Noble Neighbor
And he’d definitely have answers.
“Sunny packed up and ran. Five nights ago. And I’m out of my mind with worry. It’s tearing me apart, and if you can give me any indication why she’d uproot her life and bolt off in the middle of the night, I’d be eternally grateful.”
Another lengthy silence followed Oliver’s plea before the man,Aleck, spoke. “What precipitated her running?”
“I don’t know,” Oliver cried. “All I can think is ithad something to do with my wife’s death and the publicity—”
“Wait! Oliver? You said your name’s Oliver?”
“Yeah. Oliver Armstrong.”
“And your wife … Agatha Newton?”
“Yes. So, ithassomething to do with Christie’s death?”
“Yes,” Aleck confirmed and let out a lengthy sigh followed by sailor-worthy cursing.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“You gonna tell me why Christie’s death had Sunny take off? It’s not likeIkilled my wife. It was that sick Randolph fuck, and the bastard’s dead. It’s not like he can come back.”
“I’ll explain in person,” Aleck said after a beat or two of silence. “Where are you?”
“In Sunny’s house.”
“Don’t be a wiseass, Armstrong. Sunny and I thought it best I didn’t know where she settled. I could find out, but that would waste precious time. I know Sunny, and I know what she’s going through right now. Just tell me, man, and I can be there within hours.”
26
Over the edge
Present day …
Oliver paced, waiting on tenterhooks for the mysteriousAleck, worrying he’d already given away too much. The man had insisted they needed a face-to-face meeting and said he’d arrive before nightfall.
“You’re wearing a path in the wood, Oliver. And making me nervous. Sit.”
“I can’t sit, Dad.” He peered out the window to thewhite house across the way. “What if she’s in real danger,and I’ve just made it worse? What if this Aleck is the person she’s been running from?” He shot his father aglance. The man sat in his armchair whittling. Oliverleaned closer to look. “You’re carving a chicken?”
“Reckon the girls are missing their hens. This way you can take them as a reminder of what’s waiting for them when you go persuade them to come home.”
“Rock a roll tiiime!” Harvey called his warning from the kitchen before belting the opening lines to “Blue Suede Shoes.”
“Harvey! Grandpa saidpersuade, not suede.”
Olivier shut his eyes for a moment. “Clement,” he hollered over the screeching bird.
Clement stepped through the kitchen doorway, shutting the door behind him, dimming Harvey’s singing. “Dad?”
“I thought I said to stay in your room while we talk to our … visitor.”
His son straightened to his full height. Another year, two at the most, and he’d be looking yours truly in the eye. “It’s about Kenzie and Molly, and I’m their brother, so Ineedto hear. Don’t make me go, Dad,” he pleaded, whispering.
Oliver groaned. “I only want to protect you, Clem.”
“Dad, I’m almost twelve. I can handle it.”
