A Fatal Romance. June Shaw

outside the doorway, I found no sign of tampering. I checked around the windows in front. Nobody tried to get in that I could see. Creeping beside the house, I rubbed my hand over the stucco and tried to see inside the windows like a burglar might.

      Normally Eve left the drapes in her dining room and spare bedrooms open. Tonight they were shut with only white backing visible. I stepped close to those windows, trying to peer through the sides or middles, pleased that the drapes fit snugly. I could tell there was light in those rooms but saw nothing else. On tiptoes, I tried to peek into her bathroom window.

      Curtains inside ruffled and parted, making me stumble backward. A face against the window stared down at me. It resembled mine. Eve held her cell phone away from her ear. Unhooking her window, she slid it up an inch. “My neighbor said somebody’s looking in my windows, and I should call the police to come back.”

      “Good for her.” I turned to the house on the right. Busybody Mrs. Wilburn might finally have a positive purpose. Maybe she’d help protect my sister.

      “Wait a sec,” Eve said. “Let me tell her it’s just you so she won’t get the cavalry out here.” She placed her phone close to her mouth and spoke.

      I waved at Mrs. Wilburn, the frightfully pale woman whose mean dark eyes stared at me from a window in a brightly lit room. Royce stood behind her, watching me. He’d come for a rare visit to his mother?

      She dropped her drapes without either of them returning my greeting.

      “She’s not happy to see me,” I called to Eve.

      “She’s worried. Maybe the guy will come back and grab her. Okay, I need to get ready. And my neck’s twisted with me up on the ledge of the hot tub bending down to talk to you.”

      I gave her a one finger wave. “Have fun.”

      “I always do.” My sister flashed the most beautiful smile. “And, Sunny, the police already did what you’re doing out there.”

      “Maybe I can catch something they missed.”

      “Right.” She smirked. “You might be messing up and covering shoeprints with yours.”

      “I hadn’t thought about that.” Not surprised that I’d mess up, I scooted back from her house.

      “Later.” Eve dropped her curtains.

      I trotted back to my house without noting anything unusual along the way. Inside, I worried about my sister. Then decided the man with her tonight should provide safety, at least letting a would-be thief see his car or truck out front. I hoped Stan drove a large truck. A mean-looking black one.

      Needing to eat before doing paperwork but not too hungry, I fixed a couple of ham and cracker sandwiches and spread jelly between crackers for dessert. Afterward I worked on an estimate for Anna’s window, concern for Eve foremost in my mind. Since my worry wouldn’t help her, I focused on the small job.

      We would need to pull Anna Tabor’s existing window out of her bathroom. We’d never installed glass block before, but it had to be similar to laying floor tile, which we had done often. We’d just finished a job like that in a young couple’s kitchen. I phoned Badeaux Lumber, which stayed open late, and spoke to Luke about what we needed. They didn’t keep glass blocks in stock but would order them. He gave me prices and assured me my plan for the job was correct. We’d build from both jambs toward the center and use flat spacers between the blocks. Of course we’d plumb and level them while we worked. Putting my glasses on, I developed an estimate for Anna.

      In the morning, I phoned Eve. She didn’t answer immediately, scattering jitters through me like sprayed fire ants. Should I rush over?

      “Umm?” she answered, voice groggy.

      “Sorry if I woke you, but I wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

      “No, that’s okay. It’s my sister,” she said to someone.

      “Y’all go back to sleep,” I said. “Or whatever.”

      With a laugh, she hung up.

      At least this morning she was safe. I wanted to stay around her, or especially to get her to come and spend time at my house, away from hers. Maybe if I fixed some of her favorite foods, I could bribe her here and then get her to stay until the police arrested whoever broke into her house.

      My phone rang. “Hello. This is Twin Sisters,” I said, making my voice cheerful.

      “Hey, Sunny, it’s Mona at Fancy Ladies. I hate to call at the last minute, but the last woman we hired developed kidney stones. Could you possibly come in for us?”

      Today? After someone broke into Eve’s house yesterday? “Sorry, I can’t.”

      “We’d need help for at least a week.”

      I did have free time the next few days. The business Eve and I started was growing slowly, and we hadn’t managed to snag any large jobs yet. Women in town knew me as a person who’d sold them their undergarments and sleepwear, while men knew me as a tall redhead. Now that Eve lived here, who knew what her status was, but neither of our reputations so far led people to believe we’d be expert craftsmen. We had been showing them gradually. I was grateful that I was thrifty and had put money aside. Anna wasn’t in a rush for her project, and my heel spurs had been feeling better the last week or so. But Eve needed me available to help keep her safe now. “Sorry, I can’t. Maybe some other time?”

      A sigh. “Okay, thanks. Maybe so.”

      I really hated to turn down that simple task of selling undies since I would soon need my roof replaced, and I could use the extra income.

      On the way to the grocery store, I swung in front of Eve’s place. I’d spoken to her moments ago, but wanted to make certain she was still all right. I dug in my purse and found my eyeglass case empty. I’d probably left my glasses near the pad with estimates.

      Even so, I couldn’t miss the black Hummer squatting in the circular drive out front like an army tank. Stan’s business must be doing well. No sign of any new break-ins. I probably shouldn’t tiptoe around her windows to make sure. Making a decision, I drove on.

      Who could have broken into Eve’s house, wanting something of a man’s? I had met some of the guys she dated since her last divorce, but after a while they looked alike. Their dark hair held touches of gray, and they appeared to work out in gyms. Energetic men, they kept their white smiles aimed at my sister, who resembled me—but she put out, and I didn’t. She gave them that bit of information right when they met me, which I felt was unnecessary.

      The store’s parking lot was almost empty. I marched inside and inspected bananas and homegrown tomatoes as well as I could without my glasses.

      “Sunny,” a deep voice called. Eve’s first husband, Jacques Thibodaux, stepped near and kissed my cheek. “How nice to see you.”

      “You, too, Jacques.” Was there a convention of my sister’s exes in town? Her most recent ex-husband lived forty miles away, but we never saw him. Jacques lived in Houston. His hair was thinner and grayer since I’d last laid eyes on him. He’d thickened in the waist. I glanced behind him, hoping to see the daughter he and Sunny had produced. “Where’s the little one?”

      His smile widened at my suggestion that their grown offspring was little. “She’s teaching those preschoolers. My wife Melanie came down with me a couple of days for my friend’s funeral.”

      A wretchedly thin high-heeled blonde sashayed near and flopped out her long hand. “Melanie,” she said with a Texas twang.

      Clasping her frigid hand made me want an overcoat. “I’m Sunny.”

      “The little one wanted to come but needs to save time off for when she has the baby,” Jacques said.

      That baby would make my sister a grandmother. Hard to believe, even though Eve’s daughter had gotten pregnant and married young, just like Eve did the first time around.