Gwen
Chapter 24
As the paramedics arrived and pushed us out of the way, Max and I looked on, thankful that we wouldn’t be the ones delivering the baby.
“You turned white as a ghost,” Max teased. “What’s the matter? Haven’t you read any books on how to deliver babies?”
I swallowed hard. “Books contain the knowledge. It’s not like having the first-hand experience. I still have to do those things for the first time.”
“I see your point,” Max said as the paramedics headed for the door and wheeled her out. He glanced over his shoulder. “Aren’t you coming?”
My lips twitched. “Not till the cookies are done and I’ve had time to snoop.”
Max’s lips parted.
I crossed the room and closed the door, peeking out the blind. “What? It’s not illegal. We were invited in. It would be rude if we let her house burn down because no one dealt with the cookies.”
The timer went off, and I hurried into the kitchen to pull out the fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies. My mouth watered, and my stomach growled. I returned to the living room with one chocolate delicious warm cookie wrapped in a napkin to find Max flipping through a magazine. He glanced over his shoulder. “Are you ready now?”
“No, silly, we have to wait for the rest of them to cool first, and then we can leave,” I answered, heading toward the closed doors down the hall.
“Uh…Gwen,” Max called out. “He might be our guy.”
I glanced over my shoulder with my hand on the knob. Max turned the wedding magazine around to show me the pages full of holes. Someone had cut out things, just like the letters pasted to the death threats. I smiled. We were getting closer to having our answers.
I opened the first bedroom door and was met with flowered décor. Closing that door, I moved to the next one. I pushed it open.
This room had a darker décor. It smelled of musk and spice. This was Paul’s room. I stepped inside and picked up the picture on the dresser. It was of a motorcycle gang, all dressed in their leathers, straddling bikes. The picture beside it was of him and his sister from when they were younger.
“We should leave,” Max said as he entered the room behind me.
“A few more minutes,” I answered and began pulling open the dresser drawers. “Check under the bed.”
Max did as I asked, and I shut the last drawer and moved to the closet. I pulled open both doors, and my hand flew to my mouth.
Sequined dresses were lined up next to the leather jacket. Mannequin heads were sitting on the top shelf, wearing wigs. The high heels were on the floor, large, about the same size as the leather boots.
“You think these are his sister’s?” Max asked, coming to stand next to me.
I pulled out one of the dresses and held it up to Max’s six-foot frame. A grin split my lip. “Too long and wide to be the sister’s dresses.”
I put the dress back and shoved them to the side to reveal cut-outs of wedding dresses taped to the back wall. “Something tells me those cut-outs in the wedding magazine weren’t used to threaten your sister.”
“What the hell are you doing?” The voice had me reaching for my gun as I spun around to the sound.
A man stood there, wearing one of the sequined dresses, holding a wig in his hand. Makeup was caked on his face.
“Your sister let us in. We called the paramedics, and you,” I answered.
His eye twitched. “You didn’t leave when they took her out?”
“I had to wait for the cookies,” I answered.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked.
“Gwen Bennett.” I held out my hand and shook his, twisting his hand to get a better look at his nails. “Great nail polish. What’s the color?”
“Fire Engine Red,” he answered, moving around us to place the wig on the head of one of the mannequins. “You two need to get the hell out.”
