Jake and I offered to help Mel, but he refused, not wanting anyone else close.
“You owe me a tall Scotch, David, once this is done…and on the rocks!” called Mel.
“You got it, buddy,” David replied, trying not to sound as worried as he was about his old friend.
“Let’s pray,” I told everyone, “but eyes open on this one.”
OK, Lord, this is a big moment for both of our groups, and we know you are with us. We ask that you keep our friend Mel out of harm’s way and give him the courage and skill to do what needs to be done and come back safely to us. In your holy name, we pray. Amen.
Mel rigged the charge and backed away slowly, using the metal plate as protection, although no bullets came his way.
Ensuring everyone was back safely, he detonated the explosives with a “Boom!”, sending the remaining parts of the bridge on their side, careening down into the river below.
“Great job, Mel!” called out David. “It looks like you did it! We can check on it later, when we’re sure it’s safe.”
“Or now,” replied a smiling Mel, reaching into a large backpack.
“You’re kidding me,” said David, looking at the compact but formidable drone with its remote controller.
“I kid you not,” replied Mel. “And just for the record, I still have a few more surprises I haven’t shown you. Unless they shoot it down, it will give us a clear picture of the bridge status.”
“Let’s try it,” I said, kicking myself for not having thought to put one in my Faraday cage.
Arcing up and over the area, Mel guided the aircraft high over the trees, giving back a perfect picture of the bridge dangling into the river on the opposite side.
“They are not crossing it now,” said Mel, “and neither are we.”
* * * * * * *
Chapter Four
Saddle Ranch ~ Loveland, Colorado
Mac waited outside the West’s hospital for news on his new friend, Jimmy.
Sarah canceled tonight’s date, just as Mac had expected.
“It’s going to be a long night here,” she told him. “Go home, and I’ll radio you right away with any news.” Blowing him a kiss, she disappeared in through the back door of the hospital.
Briefing John, Bill and Samuel about the incident and possible meeting at noon tomorrow, a weary Mac took supper home this night. Rico handed him a small bag marked for Bo, containing one juicy cow bone.
“You’re a good man, Rico,” said Mac, patting him on the shoulder.
“It’s just what I do,” he replied in his authentic Italian accent. “It’s just what I do.”
Under any other circumstances, a called-off date with the love of his life would have had him worried, but not tonight.
This night he would quietly read a book he had secretly acquired years ago and never opened. The title read How to Treat a Woman. He even let Bo sleep on the bed and hoped for a peaceful night.
Sarah’s night was anything but peaceful, as they had to resuscitate Jimmy around midnight and keep a close eye on him until morning.
Bill was up early, talking with John, Mac and Cory regarding a possible meeting with the Miller boy.
Mac tasked three of his men with scouting out the perimeter of the apple tree from a distant vantage point. Each having a radio, there was nothing to report as of 8 a.m.
Just before noon, a cautious older Miller boy emerged from the trees, rifle in hand but pointed towards the ground. Mac and Cory observed from a distance with binoculars.
“He trusts us,” said Cory.
“I honestly didn’t expect him to show,” replied Mac, now a little nervous.
“We need to talk to him,” said Mac, “but not make him uncomfortable or scared.”
“He only has one side of the story, from his mother, but his neighbor said he wasn’t completely sure about the story she told,” said Cory.
Cory approached the boy cautiously, with his hands held out in a neutral stance. He would call Mac over when the time was right and if all went smooth.
“I’m sorry about your brother,” said Cory, as they came within ten feet of each other.
“How’s your guy doing, Chief?” asked the Miller brother.
“I’m not sure,” replied Cory. “He’s bad off, far as I know.”
“So, you remember me,” added Cory, “when I used to come up to this mountain for a hike with my boy on an occasional weekend?”
“Sure, I remember, and everyone around these here parts knows you as a fair man. Seeing your name on the note is the only reason I done showed up here today.”
“I’m sorry about your father, son. I’m sure you know we worked together years back at the precinct.”
“Yes, sir. He would tell me stories about your cop days together.”
“I also know Mac,” added Cory, “and he had no reason to want to kill your father.”
“I wasn’t sure at first, when my momma done told me about it. Mac used to come up and do some handy work on our property sometimes. She swears he killed my pops right in front of the house where we found him.”
“Mac heard three shots up on the mountain that day and went up with three of his guys to investigate,” replied Cory. “They saw old man MacDonald before heading up to your place. Your daddy was shot three times in the back, and he lay face down, away from your front door. Did you know that, son?”
“Yeah, I knowd it. Didn’t seem right at the time.”
“Do you think three men are going to just stand around while another shoots a retired police officer in the back?” asked Cory.
“Well, I guess not, but Momma was sure he done it.”
“Did your momma kill your daddy?” Cory continued.
The Miller boy stood silent, working some kind of formula or idea in his head.
“They used to fight a lot about her drinking and all the money she spent on booze. He was always around guns, though, and I can’t see how she could have done it, even if she wanted to.”
“It’s not too hard to shoot someone in the back as they are walking away,” replied Cory.
“Can I talk to Mac?” asked the boy.
“Yes, you can, but I’m staying right here,” said Cory matter of factly.
Motioning for Mac to come out from the trees, Cory told the boy to stay calm, with no sudden movements.
A cautious but confident Mac made his way to the meet spot.
“Did you kill my papa?” the boy asked right away.
“No, I did not, and I have three other men I trust that will tell you the same. Your mother was drunk and told me she killed him because she was tired of him getting on her about the drinking.
She told you boys I did it, since somebody had to be blamed.
“Just so you know, I would never shoot another man in the back or try to take advantage of another man’s wife.”
“I believe that, Mac, and I’m sorry about the paint on your house and the fires. It was my brother’s idea, but I went along with it.”
“How did you get on to our property and down to my house without being detected?” asked a curious Mac.
“My dad taught me to hunt, evade, and not be seen. You all have a lot of holes need pluggin’ if you’re gonna keep people out.
“My momma wasn’t too happy about me coming here today, and we just buried my brother next to pops this morning.”
A single shot rang out from the direction of the Miller compound. The boy winced, closing his eyes slowly…
“Rest in peace, Momma,” he whispered, bowing his head. “Now I got nobody,” he wept.
Cory hugged the boy tightly and promised he would check on him in a few days, asking if he needed anything.
Mac headed back down to the Ranch, feeling better than he had in a while. With the exception of Jimmy, Mac thought things were beginning to look up again. He and Sarah were solid, and the Miller situation seemed to be resolved.
Mac would even admit, if only to himself and maybe Bo, that Cory had re
solved a major conflict in only 24 hours with the stroke of a pen. He filled in a relieved John, Bill and Samuel on the details, giving Cory most of the credit.
The rest of the afternoon Mac spent checking the maintenance on the trailer-sized freezers supplying the Ranch with more than a year’s supply of food. He made a mental note to get with John and Bill to discuss how long the generators could power them.
Exiting the large freezer, wearing his heavy winter gear, he was flooded with the heat of the summer afternoon. Many residents sat at the long string of picnic tables, shucking peas and snapping green beans for canning. Mac pitched in for the last hour, happy to have some easy work and light conversation having nothing to do with security or issues.
The topic of conversation at the tables was favorite TV shows of the ’80s. Rounding out the top ten were The Cosby Show, The Facts of Life, Mash, Cheers, Magnum PI, The A-Team, Married with Children, Full House, The Dukes of Hazzard, and his favorite, MacGyver. Seinfeld would have made the cut, first airing in 1989, but most people voting considered it a ’90s sitcom, grouping it in with the Friends era.
* * * *
Riding his four-wheeler, Mac stopped at the West hospital and was able to get a few minutes with an exhausted Sarah.
He was thankful to see Jimmy, if for only a few minutes. He was awake but could not speak.
Mac did all the talking, thanking him for saving the lives of the other men and reassuring him that his old job as second-in-command of security would be waiting for him when he was better.
Jimmy was able to squeeze Mac’s hand once for yes and twice for no, at Sarah’s instruction.
Mac told him about the meeting with the older Miller boy and assured him he would recover and be back on his four-wheeler in no time.
Sarah kissed Mac as he left the hospital, promising a true dinner date the following evening.
All slept well that night…except, of course, for the Miller boy…
* * * *
Sarah had gotten a full eight hours of restful sleep and was happy to have the other doctors in the hospital to trade shifts with. Besides checking in on Jimmy, she had the entire afternoon off.
Sneaking up to the Ranch in Samuel’s truck, she told Mac’s guys not to ruin her surprise for him.
At 1 p.m. she entered the Ranch Pavilion, as the last of the lunch crowd cleared out. Sarah had a meeting this afternoon with the head chef.
“This time it’s my turn,” she said to a smiling Rico. “Can you help me make the most special meal tonight for my guy?”
“Leave it to me, Dr.,” he said, smiling.
“If you don’t mind, I would like to help since I have the afternoon off,” she offered. Rico’s eyes lit up.
“We will need something very special for my favorite couple,” said the chef.
Removing his apron, he announced to his shocked staff that he would be taking the afternoon off. “He hasn’t taken a day off in six months!” they whispered to each other.
“Don’t be troubled, my students,” he told them. “I’ll be back for the final check before dinner tonight.”
* * * *
Taking Sarah by the hand, they headed down the dirt path to one of the main freezers.
“Did you know, Dr., that I have been head chef here for ten years?”
“No, I had no idea,” she replied, adding “and please call me Sarah.”
“Yes, Sarah, it shall be. Anyway,” he continued, “about six months before that day I had a dream, or maybe just a feeling, that change was coming. I took an entire Saturday off, creating panic amongst my understudies, to gather some special items from the surrounding cities. A few I even had to get flown in from halfway across the world, and the Kobe beef was a nightmare to acquire.
“Please put on this jacket, Dr…I mean Sarah.”
Both wearing heavy jackets and gloves, they entered the freezer through the back door. The cold hit her warm face like a slap.
“I’ve never been inside a walk-in freezer,” she admitted. “It’s not what I expected.”
“Over here, Sarah.” He led the way, shining his flashlight halfway back into the cold, dark trailer. Just ahead was a large red metal cooler with ‘Rico only’ written in Sharpie across the top.
Sarah wasn’t sure what to expect when he opened it, but she was intrigued and felt oddly safe with this man under these vulnerable circumstances.
Opening the heavy lid, following a few light strikes with Rico’s wooden mallet, she could see inside. Nine compartments were equally divided and labeled accordingly.
“Gulf Jumbo Shrimp” read the first. “Atlantic Scallops, Australian Lobster Tail, Colossal Bearing Sea Red King Crab, English Truffles, French Escargots, Canadian Foie Gras, Japanese Wagyu, and Kobe Steak.”
“I hope you like seafood and beef,” Rico said, as more of a statement.
“My two absolute favorite foods!” a delighted Sarah exclaimed. Each compartment held seven bags with their respective contents.
“One of each it is,” announced Rico, adding each bag to the smaller cooler he had brought.
“Are we going to cook this in your kitchen?” she asked.
“Not a chance,” he replied. “If my students learn how to cook each of these delicacies, they won’t want to make an ordinary dinner ever again.”
“Do you think Samuel would mind if we used your kitchen at the West?”
“I’m sure it’s not a problem,” Sarah answered. “And besides, I have someone I want you to meet,” she said, with a wink.
“Oh, you mean a lady? Why does everybody always want to fix me up? Do I look lonely?”
“Just meet her and say hi, that’s all I ask,” Sarah continued.
“OK. For you, I will meet the woman, but that is all. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” said Sarah, with a devious smile.
* * * *
“I’ve never prepared truffles before,” said Rico, as they walked into the West’s kitchen.
“I have,” said a woman overhearing the conversation.
Rico turned to see a confident and radiant Patty. He was taken aback by her deep green eyes and thought her classically beautiful.
“Hello, Chef,” she said, with a smile.
“Do we know each other?” he asked, smiling back unintentionally.
“We have met twice,” said Patty. “The first time was when I was just a week into training as a prep cook. The head chef was out sick, and you ordered escargots at my restaurant. I recognized you from the cooking magazines you were featured in.
“My manager made me prepare them, although I never had before. You sent them back, asking for something, anything, else prepared by a real chef. I cried myself to sleep that night, and the next morning I was determined to become a great chef.
“Three years later I would be Head Chef at the Catacombs restaurant in Fort Collins and would serve you again. It was the best escargots you have had, you told my manager. So, thanks to you for making me Head Chef of one of the finest steakhouses in Northern Colorado.”
Rico blushed, embarrassed. “Please accept my most sincere apologies. I don’t remember either incident. But back then, I got caught up in the life of a celebrity chef. And with a cocaine problem, I have been told I was kind of a jerk. I got clean and opted for a slower life here in this valley.
“I am still tough on my students, but now I encourage them to be exceptional at their craft with positive reinforcement.”
“Apology accepted,” Patty replied. “Now, are you going to let me help you two or not?” she asked, still smiling.
Rico paused as Sarah asked, “Well, Chef. Are we going to work together here?”
“Of course! We all have something to learn, I’m sure, and I need help with truffles, to start.”
Patty, pulling four black truffles from a heavy freezer bag, looked them over closely and put one to her nose.
“These are English Autumn, also known as Burgundy truffles. They are fungi originally found by pigs and now by train
ed dogs. The prized fungi lie just beneath the ground near beech, hazel, birch, and oak trees in rich soils.
They can be prepared and added to a variety of dishes. I would suggest a classic truffle risotto with a light cream sauce. The truffles will be sliced, shaved and grated.”
“You know your truffles, Patty,” said an impressed Rico.
Reaching into the cooler and pulling out a two-pound bag, he asked, “What do you know about Kobe beef?”
Next World Series (Vol. 3): Families First [Second Wind] Page 6
