Rocky Road

by Josi S. Kilpack

  “Do you think I’d have hung out in the woods and swept floors for tuna fish sandwiches if I could get my hands on that money? I’ve barely moved a third of what we siphoned off, and I won’t be able to touch any of the rest for months—not until I know the police aren’t watching me anymore.”

  “I can help them speed it up by painting the right picture. I want ten grand for the hard drive and a promise of forty more within the year. You in?”

  “What about that?” he asked, nodding toward the top of the envelope sticking out of her bag.

  “I’ll give you that once you give me the first ten. When can you get it to me?”

  “I can have ten grand by the end of next week.”

  Sadie nodded, and felt the tingling in her head again. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. “I can live with that.”

  “Can you live with the fact that the next forty thousand will be dirty money? You’re cool with where it came from?”

  She sensed he was testing her, just as Officer Nielson had said he probably would. It was imperative that she handle this right. She recalled what Officer Nielson had told her to say if it became necessary. “What you took was peanuts compared to the ‘free parking’ that foundations bigger than yours land on every time someone wants to save the world with a twenty-dollar donation in exchange for a pink T-shirt, right?” She made a waving motion with her hand to emphasize how trivial the idea of stolen money was to her. “And dirty money funds trips to Europe just as well as a paycheck does.”

  A smile stretched across the doctor’s face, which made Sadie feel even sicker than when she’d said those words out loud.

  “People get to feel good about their philanthropy, and I get rich. And, now, you get rich too, of course.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say fifty thousand dollars is going to make me rich, but it can fly under the radar of my tax accountant.” She adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder. “And what will you do now? The investigation is going to be in your way, like you said.”

  He shrugged his shoulders and looked past her at the red rock hills in the distance. “I’ll keep up the practice for a while—try to reassure the community and all that—and then I’ll retire to Grand Cayman—maybe claim post-traumatic stress or something to explain why I can’t stay.”

  “Nice,” Sadie said, but it was getting hard to play along with this. She felt physically ill. There had still been no mention of his children.

  He smiled again. “And I’ve another Mrs. Hendricks to find, you know. There are some fine, fine women in the Caribbean. With or without my medical license, I can make a pretty nice life out there—stroke of luck, Anita hitting her head like that, don’t you think? It’s like it was meant to be. I couldn’t have scripted it better myself.” His smile was bigger than ever.

  “Right, what luck,” Sadie said. But she could feel her façade slipping. “Everything is happening just as though you scripted it. Could it have come together more perfectly?”

  “I can’t say it’s been the best two months of my life or anything,” he said, but his entire posture boasted pride and confidence. “But one of the most important skills you learn as a doctor is to think fast. You have people’s lives in your hands, and you have to be able to react with skill and confidence—this isn’t much different. I process through what’s happening and instantly change course accordingly.”

  “So—you basically outsmart everybody,” Sadie said. She wasn’t smiling anymore, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “And it’s not as hard as you’d think—most people are idiots.”

  “And what about your children?” She couldn’t help but say it, and his smile diminished slightly as he finally saw the change in her demeanor. “How are you going to explain all of this to them?”

  “The kids will be fine.” He stepped back toward his front door with the hard drive in his hand. “I’ll let you know when I have that ten grand ready to go.”

  “I’ll be waiting for that call,” Sadie said. She pointed toward the hard drive in his hand. “Don’t forget my show of good faith.”

  “I won’t,” he assured her as she turned and started down the steps.

  When she reached the sidewalk, Sadie ducked her chin toward the microphone in her cleavage. “I’m going to throw up,” she said to whoever was listening, feeling desperate to remind them that she was acting a part. She felt a hand grab her shoulder and spin her around. Dr. Hendricks frowned at her. She’d been so intent on getting away that she hadn’t realized he’d followed her down the steps.

  “What did you say?” he asked, but he looked at the neckline of her shirt. He’d seen her talk into the microphone? Sadie lifted her hand to cover the opening of her shirt as though concerned over her modesty. He looked her in the eye. “What did you just say?”

  Sadie heard the sound of a car engine behind her, and she lifted her chin so she could look straight back at him. “I said, ‘I’m going to throw up.’”

  He looked confused but also scared and angry. He’d just told her that his medical training prepared him to recalculate at a moment’s notice, but she almost wished he’d hit her or do something that would cause the cops to pull their guns on him. He looked past her and backed up a step as Sadie heard tires squeal to a stop.

  “You’re a disgusting man, Dr. Hendricks,” she said, taking a backward step herself. “And in your quest for riches, you’ve lost every treasure you ever had.”

  “Wh-what?”

  A second police car pulled up behind the first. The drivers’ doors flew open as the officers dropped behind them.

  “Stay where you are! Hands where I can see them!” one of the policemen yelled. Sadie turned, lifting her hands above her head, and hurried toward the curb. Her adrenaline was rushing and her heart was racing now that it was all over.

  “On the ground, both of you, legs spread and arms away from your body.”

  Sadie was the first to comply. She lay down on the hot sidewalk—the yard was xeriscaped, so there was no grass to offer a more comfortable landing spot. Dr. Hendricks took off running, and she turned her head to see one of the officers tackle him on the rocks of his beautifully landscaped yard. He started yelling and swearing, and Sadie turned her head away from the drama and forced herself to relax, take full, deep breaths, and accept that it was over.

  The officers left her on the sidewalk while they dealt with Dr. Hendricks, and Sadie tried to pretend she wasn’t as uncomfortable as she really was. She could hear Caro’s voice but didn’t tune in to it just yet.

  She thought of Lori.

  And Joey.

  And Kenzie.

  Dr. Hendricks’s parents and brother and family and friends.

  She thought of all the prayers offered on his behalf, all the hope stored up for his safe return, all the hearts that were soon to be broken again. Mercy cannot rob justice, she reminded herself. Sparing the tender feelings of all these people who loved Dr. Hendricks would only have delayed the heartache. It would have been only a matter of time before he’d have sacrificed them all over again. So much hurt, so much unfairness—and for what? Money? Stuff?

  Another scripture came to mind as the officer helped her to her feet. “Be still and know that I am God.”

  Something as simple as that was sometimes the hardest thing to do.

  Chapter 42

  Just wanted you to know that we’ve amended the charges against Lori Hendricks to misdemeanor attempted assault,” Officer Nielson said into the phone Monday morning. “I’m hopeful the judge will limit her sentence to mandatory counseling. Dr. Hendricks’s parents posted bail for her this morning, and I was able to talk with her before she left. She’s doing better.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that,” Sadie said as she looked around the hotel room she would be checking out of soon. Sadie was eager to start her trip home, but she was grateful that Officer Nielson had called her with an update. Despite the ugliness that had happened here, the city and its people had grown on her in the l
ast few days. “And Dr. Hendricks?”

  “The judge denied him bail due to the substantial flight risk with all the money at his disposal. Some federal investigators will be here in a few days—they’ll take over most aspects of the case—although I’m trying like crazy to find something we can charge him with as well.”

  “Good,” Sadie said. She hoped Dr. Hendricks’s punishment would at some point equate to all the pain he’d put his loved ones through, but she wasn’t sure that was possible.

  “We owe you a great deal for everything you did on this case,” Officer Nielson said. “I spent the weekend going over your notes, and my estimation of you grew with every page.”

  Sadie was embarrassed by the praise. “Thank you,” she said, looking at carpet at her feet. She didn’t know what else to say, and they sat there in silence for a few more seconds. The sound of a card-key in the door caused Sadie to look in that direction as Caro pushed the door open. She’d had breakfast with Tess this morning, and Sadie’s eyes were immediately drawn to the aluminum foil pan in Caro’s hands. Was that what she thought it was? She lifted her eyebrows as she looked at Caro’s face.

  “I did want to ask you something,” Officer Nielson said, drawing Sadie’s attention back to the phone call. “Did you feel God in this?”

  The directness of his question startled her, and she took a few moments to review the last week and ponder his question. An answer didn’t come readily to mind, so she hedged. “You know, Officer Nielson, I’ve never heard a police officer talk the way you do about God.”

  He chuckled. “Maybe the other ones didn’t know Him like I do.”

  “No offense, but that’s quite a statement to make,” Sadie said, reflecting his boldness.

  He chuckled again. “I don’t mean to take anything away from anyone else’s connection to Him, but neither will I apologize for the assurance I have of His hand in my life, my family, and my work. When I lost my legs, I gained something powerful that propels me more than tendons and joints ever did.”

  “You talk like a minister,” Sadie said as Caro checked under the bed and in the drawers to be sure they hadn’t forgotten anything. Sadie had already checked, but since she was still talking, there was no reason to stop Caro from doing it, too.

  “Thank you,” he said with confidence. “But you haven’t answered my question. Did you feel God in this?”

  Sadie pondered the question again. It was simple and yet complex, and, try as she might to find an answer, she found herself stumbling through her thoughts. “Anita’s dead,” she said. “All of the people who mourned Dr. Hendricks are wrestling with even harder things than his death. The people who donated money to the foundation over the years, or purchased a Pink Posy Pin, have to come to terms with what their money was really used for. It’s hard for me to look at those things and see God reflected back at me.”

  “It certainly is complex,” Officer Nielson said with a humble but sincere voice. “But you still didn’t answer my question. Did you feel God in this? Without trying to understand the esoteric ramifications of the things that happened, did you feel Him?”

  Sadie remembered the times in this case that she knew what to do, when some little thing wouldn’t rest easy in her mind, when she made a choice and saw it through to insight and understanding she hadn’t expected at the outset. She could justify some of that as a result of the experience and knowledge she’d gained during the last few years, and yet, even with her logical side working overtime to make everything fit in that category, there were things that couldn’t be explained away. As she pondered those things, her shoulders relaxed, her head felt less heavy, and her heart was lighter in her chest. Just as the stark white of the Mormon temple contrasted sharply with the red rock of the southern Utah landscape, there were stark moments of awareness that she couldn’t ignore. The scripture that she’d been reminded of while Dr. Hendricks was being arrested stood out especially brightly. She’d felt calmness at that moment, a kind of salving of her concerns.

  “Yes, Officer Nielson,” she said into the phone, her voice quiet—reverent, almost. “I felt God in this.” God’s presence hadn’t made everything better, but perhaps that wasn’t the point. Perhaps perspective and patience and growth were the things He wanted His children to gain when bad things happened.

  Sadie felt sure Officer Nielson was smiling on the other end of the line. “I’m very glad to hear that, Mrs. Hoffmiller.” He didn’t press her for details, and she realized he wanted her to simply acknowledge it, evaluate it, and learn from it. That wasn’t a bad idea. If God were here, if He knew her and her gifts and wanted her to use them—where could that lead her?

  They spoke for another minute or so about her trip home and the timeline for Dr. Hendricks’s case—she would likely be expected to testify if he went to trial. By the time she hung up, Caro had rolled both of their suitcases to the door and was leaning against the wall sending a text message. When she finished, she looked up at Sadie with a smile. “He’s a very interesting cop, that Officer Nielson.”

  Sadie nodded as she put her phone in her purse. “He certainly is.”

  “And Pete hasn’t called?”

  Sadie had worried about Pete’s reaction all weekend, and yet at the same time she couldn’t wait to tell him all about it. “Not yet. I imagine he’ll get home and call me before he even checks his e-mail. It ought to be an interesting conversation.”

  Caro laughed at the understatement and then crossed to the dresser where she’d placed the aluminum pan she’d brought with her. “Tess wanted me to give you this—she remembered how much you said you liked Rocky Road fudge.”

  Sadie took the pan Caro cautiously held out to her and then looked up at Caro’s face. “She also wrote you a note,” Caro said, nodding at the envelope taped to the top of the pan.

  Sadie looked at the note and wondered if she even wanted to read it, which made her feel bad. Sadie and Caro had finished out their girls’ weekend without Tess, which had been fine with Sadie. There weren’t many basically good people Sadie disliked, but Tess was on that short list.

  “I’ll head down and check out of the hotel,” Caro said, inviting Sadie to read the note on her own. “Meet you in the lobby?”

  “Sure.”

  When the door shut behind Caro, Sadie sat on the edge of one of the unmade beds and picked up the envelope. She turned it over and broke the seal. She couldn’t imagine what Tess would want to say to her, but she felt a tendril of hope wrapping around the moment. It never felt comfortable to have bad feelings with someone, and if their relationship could be repaired, Sadie would certainly be open to that.

  Sadie,

  I hope you have a safe trip home.

  Tess

  Sadie laughed out loud. That’s it? All that had happened, and this was Tess’s version of ... what? An apology? Not hardly. Sadie would bet a dozen doughnuts that Caro thought there was more to the letter than there really was. She put the letter beside her on the bed and turned her attention to the chocolate confection beneath the plastic lid. She’d always loved fudge—who didn’t?—but Rocky Road was one of her favorites. Something about the smooth chocolate and the rough texture—the crunch of the nuts and the softness of the marshmallows made it a multi-sensory experience. And the fudge wasn’t a bad commentary on what this week had been like—definitely a rocky road.

  Sadie remembered seeing plastic spoons in the caddy of sugar and creamer next to the coffee pot. She walked over to get one. Just a bite, she thought. She removed the lid and used the spoon to carve through the chocolate, being sure to get a bite that included peanuts and a mini marshmallow, too. She put the spoonful on her tongue and closed her eyes to fully enjoy it as the chocolate melted on her tongue. Fudge could be tricky and she had to hand it to Tess—she’d done a great job with it. The texture was silky smooth, and the flavor was good. She savored the confection and allowed it to replace some of the negative feelings she felt toward Caro’s cousin. At the same time, she smiled smug
ly at the certainty that although Tess’s fudge was very good, Sadie’s grandmother’s recipe was better.

  4 1/2 cups sugar

  1 (12-ounce) can evaporated milk

  3 1/2 cups mini marshmallows, divided (2 cups frozen, 1 1/2 cups at room temperature)

  1 stick butter, cut into tablespoon-size pieces

  3 1/2 cups (21 ounces) chocolate, such as chocolate chips or chopped candy bars*

  1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla

  1 cup nuts (any type, but peanuts are traditional)

  Put 2 cups of miniature marshmallows in the freezer. Butter a 9x13-inch pan.

  In 4-quart saucepan (or larger—mixture will triple in size once it begins to boil) on medium heat, combine sugar and evaporated milk. Bring to a boil and boil for 7 minutes (to soft ball stage), stirring constantly. Remove from heat. Allow to cool 3 minutes. Do not stir mixture after removing it from heat or crystallization will occur.

  While the sugar-milk mixture cools, mix together 1 1/2 cups mini marshmallows, butter, chocolate, and vanilla in large bowl.

  Pour sugar-milk mixture in bowl with chocolate-butter mixture (do not stir before pouring in sugar-milk mixture and do not scrape pan). Mix until smooth. Add nuts and pre-frozen marshmallows. Mix till combined. Pour mixture into prepared pan; smooth top. Allow to cool completely before cutting into 1-inch squares.

  *Half milk chocolate and half semisweet chocolate makes a great combination.

  Note: Fudge freezes well when wrapped tightly in plastic wrap or placed in an airtight container. Thaw before eating.

  Fortune Cookie

  Enjoy this sneak peek of

  Fortune Cookie

  Coming February 2014

  Chapter 1

  Sadie Hoffmiller had always liked things to be just so. “A place for everything and everything in its place” was efficient, consistent, and reduced both stress and loss. Certainly the events of the last few years had shaken some of Sadie’s confidence in being able to keep things as they should be, but for the most part, she felt the changes these disruptions had caused were for the better. She felt more capable of recovering from difficult circumstances, more aware of what went on around her, and increasingly confident in her ability to take life as it came and respond accordingly. Even a lingering threat on her life was something she had come to terms with, knowing she might one day face it but hoping that perhaps the threat had disappeared.