She looked down at her hands and gently traced a bruised area with her finger. “I’ve had a lot of weird stuff happen recently. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”
I had a feeling it wasn’t a coincidence, and my protective instincts flared to life. “What kind of weird stuff?”
“A few flat tires. My mailbox has been knocked down twice. My dog was bitten by a venomous snake—inside my house. A rock shattered the glass in my sliding door. All in the last few months. And now this.”
“Is your dog okay?” I asked.
“It took a while, but he’s fine now.”
“The things you mentioned seem like more than coincidences. Can you think of anyone who might be angry with you or want to harm you?”
“Yes, and no. There are a handful of people who don’t like me, but I really hate to give credit where credit isn’t due.”
I raised my right hand. “I promise to give no credit.”
She smiled, which is what I was hoping for. But the smile disappeared from her face when she answered my question. “I’m going through a divorce, and my soon-to-be ex-husband is not making it easy. He’s the first person I’d suspect, but he’s nowhere to be found. His mother and his best friend are definitely not my biggest fans, but I don’t think either of them would harass me. And then there’s my mother. I don’t have a great relationship with her, but I don’t think she’s to blame.”
“Well, that’s a good start.”
“Did you say your mother?” Ink asked.
Daphne nodded. “Yes, I did. My mother’s a two-faced cunty bitch. Sorry. That was crass.”
I pointed to my cut. “There’s not much you could say that would offend us.”
“That may be, but it wasn’t professional.”
“Sugar, you’re in the hospital. You don’t have to be professional right now. We’ve invaded your space. Please, by all means, speak freely.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Knock, knock,” a nurse said before he entered the room. “Good news, Ms. Clark. The doctor said you can go home. Is it okay if I go over your discharge instructions with your friends here?”
“It’s fine. Go right ahead.”
While the nurse went over her instructions, I thought about what she’d said. I didn’t think the things that had happened to her were coincidences or a run of bad luck. It sounded like they were being orchestrated, and I wanted to know why.
“Are you ready to go now?” the nurse asked.
“Uh, I’m going to need a few minutes to arrange a ride,” Daphne said.
“We’ll take you home,” I offered.
“Oh, no. I don’t want to be any trouble.”
“You live in Croftridge, right?”
“Yes.”
“So do we. So, it’s no trouble.”
“Crap. I forgot about my car.”
“Where’s your car?”
“I guess it’s still at Irene’s house,” she said. “With a flat tire.”
“We’ll take care of that for you.”