by Gale Borger
I mentally made notes on what I had to do the next day. By the time I had showered and wandered into the bedroom, both dogs were sprawled across the bed, snoring and twitching in doggy la-la-land. I wedged myself in between the two and they snuggled close. I drifted off to the soothing sounds of their snorts and snuffles.
Epilogue
A week later we were all kicked back at Mom’s. J.J, Alejandro, Ian, Mag, FBI Bob, our families, friends, and neighbors all gathered in Mom’s backyard for the first cookout in two weeks that did not star a dead body. We sat in camp chairs in a large circle, the smell of grilling brats and Jell-O salad rife in the crisp late-fall air.
Ian was once again looking hail and hearty after suffering a slight concussion from being hit by Rob Graff. He had a bounce in his step as he carried a couple of beers to where we sat. He dropped a kiss on Mag’s head and held out her MGD with great ceremony. “For you, my Lady.”
She wiped her hand across the label and flicked the cold water at him. She looked over at me and said, “How about that? Cute as a button, and he fetches beer too. The perfect man.”
She saw Mom coming toward us and whispered, “Watch this.”
“Hey, Mom!” Mom looked over and Mag patted Ian’s knee. “He followed me home, can I keep him?”
Mom bustled about, smiling absently. She waved a hand in the air, and replied with the same words we’d heard all our lives. “Yes, dear, but make sure he has all his shots.”
We all roared. Ian looked confused. Mag patted his leg. “Never mind dear, it’s another Miller thing.”
Ian looked from person to person with a dazed expression on his face. J.J. took a beer from him and said, “You’ll get used to it, it only took me about 35 years.”
Naturally, the conversation turned to the Graff murder and the subsequent events.
Bob said, “I heard Escobar bonded out to the tune of ten million dollars. His lawyers are trying to get him back to Colombia, but so far the U.S. has blocked legal passage. He’ll slip out of the country one night, and the hunt will be on again.”
Ian added, “Martinez disappeared from protective custody yesterday. All that was left of him were two knocked-out feds and a blood splat on the bathroom wall.
“One shot, bits of bone fragment and a little gray matter mixed in for good measure. Courtesy, I’m sure, of our local Colombian drug lord.”
Alejandro sighed. “Justice done.”
We all were quiet for a moment. I said to Alejandro, “Hey, I heard you found a job already.”
“Yes, I did. I was caring for the mares that did not die, over at the vet’s office and Dr. Mike told me of a job opening. On Dr. Mike’s recommendation, I was offered the job of managing the Colson County Equine Rescue outside of town. The job comes with living quarters and insurance. Wow. County benefits. I am now set for life, and I get to stay here with all of you.” He looked down at Wes who was grinning up adoringly at him. “I can even get a dog!” Wes sneezed on cue and Alejandro slipped him the rest of his hot dog.
J.J. laughed. “Now all we have to do is find you someone who will spend all that money you’ll be making!” We all laughed and Alejandro blushed.
Just then my little sister, Fred, walked up with a dark haired beauty. “Everyone? This is my college roommate Sam Fernandini from Peru. She’s visiting for about a month.” Fred looked at me. “Sami is the one from whom I get all my rare specie tropical fish. She’s an ichthyologist with the National Environmental Agency of Peru in Lima. She had vacation time coming and decided to become an honorary Cheesehead for a month.”
We all saluted her with our beers and said hello. Alejandro just stared, with his mouth working like a fish out of water. I poked him in the ribs and he snapped his mouth closed. “Hi.”
He stood and gently took Sami’s hand. “I am Alejandro. Will you marry me, beautiful lady? I have a great job with County benefits. I like fish, too.”
“Subtle, Montoya, reeeal subtle,” I said.
Sami laughed and was saved from answering when Greg Henry drove up the driveway and got out of his car. The black eyes were gone and he had a barely discernible limp, but he wore his grief like a heavy load. His shoulders drooped and pain lurked behind his eyes.
He looked at Ian and Mag holding hands and the fake smile faltered. He straightened and took a deep breath.
The smile was back in place when he wandered over. “Hi everyone.” We all called out a greeting. He kept looking at Mag. “I wanted to stop by and tell you all thank you very much for all you did for Carole.”
He laid a hand on J.J.‘s shoulder and looked at me. “Especially you two. Without you guys, I still might not know what happened to my sister.”
J.J. and I stood. He shook Greg’s hand and I hugged him tight. “She was a good woman, Greg. You should be very proud of her.”
Greg nodded. “I am.” He turned to Ian. “Ian? I’m going to get some food while there’s still some left. Would you join me?”
Ian hopped out of his chair. “Sure. Excuse us, everyone.”
They took off across the yard where the Geriatric Mod Squad was re-arranging food bowls and keeping a sharp ear out for tidbits of neighborhood news.
Bob said what we were all thinking. “Sure must be hard losing a sibling like that.” I thought of my sisters and thanked the Lord they worked relatively safe jobs.
Mag said, “That sure explains why Glenn ‘The Masher’ Graff thought he could chase me around the potting shed with no remorse. He wasn’t really married!”
I remembered the conversation Mag and I had about Greg and Rob. “No, but he’s got a long row to hoe with that son of his. He told J.J. that he didn’t even know he had a son until a few years ago. Seems the mother was some old girlfriend from way back. She was an addict, and they parted ways. He never even knew she was pregnant. One day Rob shows up at his door with a letter. Hmmm–I wonder if Gregg will quit the DEA. They might even force him to retire. Who knows?”
J.J. said, “I heard Rob was out of the hospital and was ‘persuaded’ to cooperate with the feds in return for a lighter sentence, counseling, and perhaps parole.”
“Rob’s going to prison, and Martinez is dead. What a bloody miserable end,” I said.
Bob had another thought. “Hey Buzz speaking of blood; did I tell you? We also found a couple of drops of blood on Martinez’s pants where you splashed him with the Luminol. We think the DNA will match up with a pilot Delavan P.D. found murdered out in the woods behind the school. Gutierrez gave us the lead on him.”
A scratchy female voice interrupted. “Fat lot-o-good that’ll do ‘em with that Mexican drug lord getting croaked by the Colombians!” Mary Cromwell threw a couple of boxing moves. “You should have called us, Sheriff. Me and the girls would have kicked some major drug dealing booty down at that barn.”
Mary gave an enthusiastic imitation of a football punter in action. She backed up, her tongue at the corner of her mouth.
“No, Mary, no,” Mom hollered.
Mary swung back her scrawny leg and let it fly just as Greg came around the corner with a mounded plate of food.
Mary’s toe caught the edge of the plate and sent it sailing through the air. Wes and Hill tore after the flying food and Wes clipped Mom as she walked toward the buffet table with an armload of desserts. Jan’s apple pie popped out of her hands and landed on Dad’s chest. Dad stood up suddenly and upset the chips and dip of which he was currently partaking. Jan caught the chips, but the dip bounced on the ground, giving everyone’s legs in the near vicinity a tangy French onion flavor.
Jane laughed and picked up a cream cheese ball. She wound up and threw it at Mary yelling, “You crazy old bird! Act your age and not your son’s I.Q., for God’s sake!”
“Don’t you call me a lazy old turd, Jane Broussard!” Mary wrestled a drumstick away from Wes and threw it back at Jan, bonking Reverend Hutchins on the head.
Bob, Ian, and Sam looked on the chaotic scene with stunned incredulity.
&nbs
p; J.J. laughed and slapped Bob on the shoulder. “Get used to it, Cousin!”
Fred patted Sami on the back. “Before you ask, the one with the Boston Cream Pie on her chin and the cupcake attached to her knee is my mother.”
Mag put her arms around Ian’s middle and laid her head on his shoulder. “Welcome to the family, honey.”
Ian whispered to her, “I’m glad you said that, because I just made a deal with Greg to buy the greenhouse property.I can set up a lab and an office and work out of White Bass Lake. It’s already clear with headquarters.”
Mag squealed and threw her arms around his neck, giving him a smooch deluxe.
Wes sat there grinning upon the scene. He had noodles on his head and he was wagging his tail, while Hilary delicately passed gas. She cleared the area, everyone running for cover. I held my nose and yelled, “All right, who’s the wise guy who fed the Bulldog sauerkraut?”
A UPS van drove up the driveway. Alejandro knocked his chair over running toward it. He bobbed his head up and down and danced to the back of the truck. Together he and the UPS man unloaded a long rectangular box. J.J. and Moe jogged over to help. They carried the box and set it down near the back door.
Alejandro cleared his throat and took my mother by the arm. He called Dad over and spoke to the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, you all have been very kind to me since I came to your town. The Miller family gave me shelter when I could have been murdered. For this I can never repay them. As a token of my gratitude, I offer you this gift. I ordered it special from Arizona.”
The crowd gathered around as Mom cheerfully opened the box. Jan and Jane helped her with the lid. My dad moved in so he could see better and froze. The women oooed and ahhhed over the gift, and when the lid fell back, I about fainted.
There, staring my dad in the eye was a goddamn cowboy lamp with a rattle snake crawling up the pole. My mom clapped, Dad stood there stunned, and Alejandro grinned from ear to ear. I put my arm around Mag and Fred and said, “Here we go again, girls.”
Gale Borger has been involved in law enforcement for over 20 years. This gives Gale an endless source of background material for her books. Growing up in a screwball household also gives her a sense for the zany and the bizarre. Gale writes what she knows, and she knows bad guys and funny stuff—but not necessarily in that order!
Gale lives in Southeastern Wisconsin with her husband and daughter, a Dogue de Bordeaux, two cats, about 1500 tropical fish, an African Horned Toad, a side-neck turtle, two dwarf hamsters, and a leopard gecko.
When Gale is not writing, she and her husband breed and swap tropical fish. Gale is also a Master Gardener and after work can usually be found in a flower bed up to her ears in weeds, or volunteering at a local gardening event.
Totally Buzzed is the first book in the Miller Sisters Mysteries.
See what’s up with Gale at
www.galeborgerbooks.com
check out her blog at
www.galeborgerbooks.wordpress.com
or contact her at
[email protected]
