Jake's Burn

by Randy Rawls

  I stopped, remembering those dinners with Mom, Dad, and the pastor. “He was proud of taking over a church with such a history. Do you know that it traces its roots back to Red Gap in the 1870s? He said it started as the Red Gap Baptist Church and moved here after Cisco was founded and Red Gap gradually disappeared. According to him, the church has stood on the same site since 1882.”

  “That’s interesting,” Terri said. “Tell me more.”

  “Okay, but don’t interrupt, I’m just warming up.” I hesitated, and said, “Hmmmmm,” as if searching my mind. “The tornado of 1893 destroyed the church but the congregation got together and rebuilt it. Everything was fine until 1924—I think it was ’24—when it burned. By then, the oil boom was petering out, and there was no money to rebuild. The pastor held services wherever he could find a place. Being the good Baptists they were though, the congregation scraped together the money, and rebuilt the church on the site where it had previously stood.”

  “Ace, you never cease to amaze me with how much you know about Cisco. I hope my kids are learning their history as well as you learned yours. Would you like to come to school one day and talk to them about the history of the area? You know so much about it, and lived through so much of it.”

  My face flushed—I felt it. “My ego thanks you for the invitation and hopes to recover from that crack about my age. Is this your day to be kind to an old man?” I was only half-joking. No man likes his age to be the subject when with a beautiful young woman.

  “Oh, you know what I mean. That’s one of the things I like about you. You’re young for your age.”

  I was quiet for a moment, replaying her words, trying to decide how to feel. I wondered how old she thought I was. Finally, I decided, To hell with it. Knowing I was with a beautiful, desirable young woman who found me interesting soothed my ego.

  I drove to Eastland to the restaurant Terri selected where we had lunch and tons of conversation. Afterwards, we whiled away the afternoon doing nothing except enjoying one another.

  We went to Lake Cisco and skipped rocks on the water, and to the Cisco City Park and swung on the swings. We checked out the new high school. We rode around the countryside, stopping whenever we saw anything we wanted to investigate closer. Terri asked me to stop, and we examined a large prickly pear cactus clump. We remarked how beautiful, but nasty, they can be, and how sharp the quills are. I told her how much it had hurt when I stumbled into one when I was ten years old.

  She directed me to an ostrich farm. I watched in fascination. A few years ago, ostrich and emu farming promised to be a new oil boom for Texas. Ranchers and farmers rushed to buy chicks at costs far above the common sense level. But, as with most get-rich-quick schemes, it bombed. The bottom fell out of the market and the ranchers were stuck with birds that no one wanted. But they were still fun to watch.

  Later, I drove to the remains of Jake’s house, and we sat quietly, each of us lost in thought. A clean-up crew had begun its work, but the three chimneys still stood guard over the valley. The bathroom sink was gone, no longer swaying in the breeze. I wondered if it had fallen on its own, or someone had taken it down.

  “Can we walk up there?” Terri asked.

  “Sure,” I replied as I opened the door and got out. I walked around and opened Terri’s door. When she looked up at me through the open door as I reached for her hand, I felt like the luckiest man alive.

  “Where was Sheila’s body? Where was she killed?” Terri’s voice quavered as she asked.

  We walked to the edge of the foundation arm in arm. I stopped her as she lifted a foot to step onto the concrete. “One body was laying right over there.” I pointed toward the spot where we’d found the first body. “Let’s stop here. You’ll get all dirty if we go any farther.”

  “How did she die? Have you discovered the cause of death?”

  “No, and I’m not sure we ever will. She was burned pretty bad.” That reminded me I needed to follow up to see if there was anything new on the causes of death of Sheila and the lawyer.

  We walked around the remains of the house. “Such a waste,” Terri said. “It was the most beautiful house I’ve ever been in. Jake poured his heart into it, and he did love Sheila.” She looked at me. “I’m glad he hired you.”

  * * * *

  About five o’clock I drove into the motel parking lot. “Can I invite you in for a cold beer? I stocked your favorite.”

  She reached over and took my hand as she stared into my eyes. “Didn’t you promise me dinner? We can start with a beer and order carry-out later. This afternoon has made me very thirsty.”

  She moved her car closer to my room and we walked in together. As soon as I closed the door, I reached for her. It was a short reach because she had already stepped into me, and nestled against my chest. I don’t know who kissed whom, but our lips pressed together, and I knew they were born to meet. I had no idea any woman could taste so sweet. Her tongue gently probed, and I returned the favor.

  We came up for air and she gently pushed me away.

  I tried to pull her close again, but she resisted. “What’s the matter?” I asked through quick breaths. “What did I do?”

  “Nothing, Ace, and…and everything. I can’t do what I want, what we want. I simply can’t—not now. I’d better leave.”

  Those words slammed me back to earth in a crash landing. “If you wish, but I don’t want you to go.”

  “I’m not looking for a quick roll in the hay. The next man I make love with is going to be special. You may be that man but, but this is too quick. I want to know I'm in love with him. Give me time to work out some of my life. Move slowly with me, Ace. We’ll both be better off.”

  I stepped away from her and tried to smile. “Whatever you wish. I’ll be here when, and if, you want me.” I rested my hands on her shoulders. “You're not like any other woman I've met. Your happiness comes first.”

  THIRTEEN

  I was snoozing in my motel room dreaming of Terri when a pounding on the door shattered my fantasy. “Edwards, you in there? Wake up.”

  My first instinct was to wonder where the cats were but gradually consciousness seeped in. “Who, who the hell’s at my door?”

  “It’s me, Sammy. Sammy Waltham. I needa talk to you.”

  I rolled out of bed, stumbled toward the door in the dark, and kicked a chair with my bare foot. I danced around a moment, emitting noises that made me sound mean and upset. When I opened the door, a guy who looked familiar stood there emitting nervousness. “What the hell do you want?” I growled.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Edwards. I’m Sammy Waltham. We met at the Down Home. I can come back later if you want.”

  “Whaddaya mean come back later?” I said, checking to see if he was alone. “Hell, it’s still dark out there. You got me up, now get your ass in here, and tell me what you want.” I stepped aside and waved him in, hoping I wasn’t inviting the killer into my room.

  Waltham came into the room and looked around, as if looking for something or somebody. “I mean it. I can come back after work if it’d be better. I didn’t know you’d still be in bed.”

  I flipped on the bedside lamp and took a good look at him for the first time. It was the guy whose family-making potential I assaulted the other night in the Down Home. He looked a lot bigger than he had then—about a foot taller and forty pounds heavier. I figured I’d better keep tough, or he’d realize how small I am. “Okay, you’re here. What the hell do you want? I’m not used to having some dude beating on my door at, at—hell, what time is it?”

  “It’s five-thirty, Mr. Edwards. I’m on my way to work and thought I’d stop by. You want I should come back later?”

  “Oh, shut up and sit down. Five-thirty? You go to work at five-thirty?” I felt sorry for him. Nobody should go to work that early. That was a time to be getting in, not commuting.

  He sat in the only chair in the room.

  “Now, why are you here?”

  “I been thinking about what Bubb
a said. I wanna apologize.”

  Now that threw me for a spin. I sat on the edge of the bed. “Apologize? What for?”

  “For treating you bad in the Down Home. I know now we wuz wrong, I mean, Hojo, Buster, and me. We shouldn’ta treated you that way.”

  This was too weird. I fouled this guy bad, bad enough to be ejected from a professional hockey game, and here he was apologizing to me. Well, on second thought, I guess a simple elbow and knee lift aren’t bad enough to be ejected from a hockey game—five minutes in the box maybe, but not an ejection. “I understand. You feel bad,” I said. “But why are you here?”

  “Bubba said you wuz our friend, that you wuz trying to help us. I got some information might help you. I wanna tell it to you.”

  I looked at the clock. It was too early for this crap. “Good, Sammy. That’s real good. But it’s five-thirty, and I’m tired. Tell me what you know and then get the hell outa here.”

  Sammy jumped, then started talking. When he finished twenty or thirty minutes later, I was wide awake and thanking him for waking me.

  As Sammy left, I knew it had to happen today. It was time to have a serious talk with Jake. There were questions he’d better have answers for. But in the meantime, sleep was top priority.

  I crawled into bed and slept until nine. By the time I’d showered and shaved, it was ten, and I felt human again. I knew I should call Jake first, but I felt the need to pursue something more important.

  I dialed the school. “I’d like to leave a message for Terri Hart, please. Ask her to call Ace Edwards at 555-3478, room one-twenty at her first opportunity.” Terri had told me she had a break at ten-thirty.

  I flipped on the tube and watched Fox News until the phone rang. “Hello, Ace Edwards here.”

  The voice that came through the phone reminded me of one of those commercials I’d seen a few minutes ago. You’ve seen it. A beautiful woman with a sexy voice is talking as she runs her fingers along the top edge of her open-necked blouse. She’s talking about perfume but she’s selling sex. “Ace, it’s so good to hear from you. Did you sleep well?”

  I lied. “Yeah, like a rock. How about you?”

  “No, I had a terrible night. I kept re-playing yesterday and how nice it was being with you. Do you want to see me tonight? If that’s why you’re calling, the answer is yes.”

  I knew she was the cat, and I was the mouse, but it didn’t matter. I hadn’t felt like this since I was fourteen and my older neighbor took me into the barn. She gave me the number one experience I’ll never forget. Terri was my number two experience, or maybe she came in at 1-A. I was star-struck, infatuated, in love, in lust, whatever name you want to give it. I stammered, “Yes, that would be wonderful. When and where should I pick you up?”

  “I’ll meet you at the Down Home at eight. Please don’t get in any more fights.”

  Her voice was like warm syrup pouring over a stack of pancakes—smooth and sweet. My heart pounded and my pulse raced. The fourteen-year-old kid inside me said, “Great, I’ll be waiting for you. I promise, no fights.”

  I hung up with a grin that must have stretched from ear to ear. It was so wide I was afraid it might push my hairline back. My next call wouldn’t be as pleasant.

  I dialed again. After working my way through to Jake, I said, “We need to talk. I’m coming by your office so clear your calendar.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Arty? I have a morning full of appointments. No time today. Look, I’ll put my secretary back on. She’ll find you a slot tomorrow or next week. Good to talk to you.”

  “Don’t hang up, Jake, and don’t transfer me to your secretary. Today, Jake, today, we will talk.”

  “Arty, Arty, Arty. What is it? Am I late with your check? I’ll get one out today. Now, I have to run. Set something up with my secretary.”

  Click. He hung up. I hit re-dial and his secretary answered, “Mr. Adams’ office.”

  “Miss, you’ve only seen me once, and I’ve only seen you once. From that one meeting, you can’t know what a mean, sarcastic, snarling pit bull I can be. Don’t hang up on me, or I’ll come over and chew your leg off.”

  “This must be Mr. Edwards. Mr. Adams said you have a terrible growl, but in your heart, you’re a teddy bear. We’ve never met. I wasn’t here when you came before, but I did hear about your visit. How nice to talk with you. I’m fine, and how are you?”

  She was cool, but I refused to be diverted. “Yeah, this is Ace Edwards, that’s Ace, not Arty. You tell your boss I’m headed his way, and when I get there in about one hour, we’re going to talk. So, I suggest you clear his calendar. That’s Edwards, Arthur Conan Edwards, commonly known as Ace.”

  “But, Mr. Edwards, you don’t have an…”

  I left her trying to tell me something when I hung up. I sat back with another grin on my face—not as big as the one earlier, but a big one. Sometimes, it felt good to shove the shoe on the other foot, especially when it was another person’s foot—especially when it was Jake’s foot.

  I thought of Terri, I thought of Jake, then I thought of Terri again. She was a more pleasant subject.

  Now, what I needed was coffee and a doughnut to fuel my trip to Fort Worth. I headed for the closest 7-Eleven.

  FOURTEEN

  I stopped outside Jake’s executive office suite, arranged my face so it carried my tough-guy look, opened the door and stepped in. Jake’s executive secretary glanced up as I walked in. I realized she was right, I hadn’t seen her before. But, seeing her reminded me that Jake had a great instinct for selecting beauty and brains in the same package. Sheila had been that way. My tough-guy look dissolved and in my most gracious voice, I said, “Hi, I’m Ace Edwards. We spoke earlier. I’m here to see Mr. Adams. I believe he’s expecting me.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Edwards. It’s nice to meet you. Mr. Adams is indeed expecting you. Before we go in, I’d like to make an observation, though.”

  “Okay, roll the dice.” I was still attempting my tough guy mode.

  She continued in her soft voice. “I think you’re too nice to act like a horse’s ass like you did on the phone earlier. I’m sure your mother would never approve of your behavior. If you ever do that to me again, I’ll cut your nuts off and roast them over an open fire like chestnuts.” She smiled, stood, and walked toward the door to Jake’s office. “Now, follow me, please.”

  My mouth dropped open. From her behavior and appearance, no one would have known she’d cut me up into fondue-size chunks. Fortunately, she turned and walked away as I blushed. Watching her walk brought me back to reality, though, and gave me a whole new appreciation for the fair sex. I followed her.

  She opened the door. “Mr. Adams, Mr. Edwards is here.”

  You’d have thought Jake and I had planned this reunion for months. He jumped out of his chair and after several steps, rounded his massive desk with his hand outstretched. “Arty, come in, come in, please.” He spun toward his secretary. “Kathy, please bring us coffee and spring water.”

  He wheeled back toward me. “Anything else you’d like, Arty. Kathy will be glad to get it for you.”

  “No, coffee’s fine,” I mumbled as I turned to watch Kathy walk away, thinking he shouldn’t ask questions like that.

  “Ain’t she something?” Jake whispered. “Having her around makes a man feel ten years younger.”

  I stopped watching Kathy and looked at Jake. “Yeah, she’s up to your standards.” I’d decided while driving in that I’d try to get him off-balance. Maybe he’d give something away. “Why’d you have somebody following Sheila all the time?”

  “Arty, are you getting absent-minded in your old age? I told you I hired a private eye to check on her.” Jake had settled behind his desk in his relaxed executive mode. So much for my surprise tactics.

  “Yeah, I know. But you didn’t tell me you had a team on her twenty-four hours a day, every day. You didn’t tell me it was a close surveillance so she’d know they were there. You didn’t tell me s
he was terrified. Why, Jake? Were you jealous?”

  Jake jolted forward and slammed an open palm on his desk. The desk didn’t vibrate. At its size, nothing short of a thousand-pound bomb would have moved it. His face was ugly. “What the hell are you talking about? I’ve never been jealous of anybody in my life, and you, of all people, ought to know that. Now, knock off the bullshit. You’ve screwed up my day. What the hell do you want?”

  I stepped forward with my eyes locked on his, placed my hands on his desk and leaned toward him. “That’s just too freaking bad. I agree. Knock off the bullshit. Where were you between ten and two the night Sheila died?”

  Jake settled into his chair, a look of incredulity on his face. “I’ve been through all this crap with the cops. Do you doubt me?”

  “Yeah, I do. Now, answer my question.”

  Jake and I went back a lot of years. In high school, we had our ups and downs. A couple of times we came close to blows over a girl. On the football field we yelled at one another, but I’d never seen a look on his face like I saw now. I swear his jaw never moved as he said, “Pick up your check. I don’t need you anymore. You’re fired, as of this moment. Now, get the hell out of here.”

  I had to admire him. His enunciation was perfect. “Firing me won’t solve your problem. If I walk out now, my next stop is Sheriff Yardley’s office. Do you think he’d find it interesting that you had a PI on Sheila twenty-four hours a day, that you have no alibi for the night she was killed? You can talk to me, or you can talk to him. Your choice, buddy. No skin off my ass.” I sat, almost disappearing in one of those wingback chairs. I leaned back, hoping what I’d said would soak in—and I could get out of the chair.

  The door opened and Kathy entered pushing a cart with a coffee service and spring water. There was also a selection of sweet rolls. “I thought Mr. Edwards might have been too busy this morning for breakfast.”