Getting Sassy

by D. C. Brod

  “Tell me you’ve got the goat,” he repeated, sounding rather ominous.

  I swallowed. “I have the goat.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  I heard him sigh—definitely a sigh of relief—and at first I felt my own tiny burst of relief. But then he said, “What the hell, Robyn? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “What happened?”

  “Right after I talked to you, Bull decided he’s going to find another goat for Blood.”

  “That was really late.”

  “No shit. Dexter, Blood’s trainer, remembered where we got Sassy, so he calls Meyer’s place, talks to his brother, who says for us to come on out.”

  “In the middle of the night? With the drunken brother there?”

  “You got that right. Imagine my surprise when we’re looking over a barn full of goats and not one of them is Blood’s goat.”

  I knew I would have to explain, but my next question was more urgent. “Did Bull find another goat?”

  “He brought three back, but Blood’d have nothing to do with any of them.”

  “So we’re still on. Right?”

  I heard his intake of breath, and then all he said was, “Yeah.”

  I tried to spin it to my advantage. “It’s a good thing Sassy wasn’t there. I mean, weren’t you relieved?”

  “At first. Then I was worried. And then I got pissed.” He breathed into the phone a couple of times. “You’d better start talking, Robyn. For starters, where are you?”

  “I’m in a motel.”

  “Where’s the goat?”

  No use lying. “He’s here with me.”

  “In a motel room?”

  He didn’t know half of it. “Yes.”

  “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Well, I couldn’t take him to my apartment, so—”

  “No. I mean what the hell were you thinking when you didn’t take him to Meyer’s?”

  “Well, I wonder if it doesn’t matter so much what the hell I was thinking, only that I was thinking. That I kept Sassy and—”

  “Why? Why’d you keep the goat?”

  He wasn’t letting go of this. “Leaving him. It just didn’t feel right.”

  “It didn’t feel right or I didn’t feel right?”

  “It wasn’t you. Not really. But the place was dark, you said Meyer’s brother was a drunk. I didn’t want to leave him with a drunk.”

  “It’s a goat, Robyn. Not a two-year-old.”

  “And the coyotes. They target goats.”

  Nothing.

  I blundered on. “And, you know, that’s another thing. You never call the goat by its name. It’s always ‘the goat this, the goat that,’ you never use Sassy’s name. It’s almost like you don’t want to get real attached to him.”

  “Jesus, Robyn—”

  “It’s all those things combined.”

  All he said was, “What the hell?”

  “Well, I’m under a little pressure here, Mick. I’ve never done anything illegal in my life.” I was speaking in a harsh whisper, for fear that my mother might be awake, ear pressed to the door. “And...” I considered telling him where I was and why but knew it would only add credence to Mick’s diminishing opinion of me. So I cut to the finish: “And I am just about certain that there is no possible way I’m going to get through tomorrow without winding up dead or in jail. Something’s going to go wrong.” My eyes burned with tears, and I fought to keep them out of my voice. “I’ve got no control. And, to be honest, I guess I’ve wanted a little control.”

  “Well, congratulations. You got it now. And if that’s the way you want to play it, then that’s the way we’ll play it.” Then he said, “You figure out what you’re going to do with the goat when you’re supposed to be picking up the money.”

  “I thought I’d take him to Meyer’s right before then.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s not going to work now.”

  “Why not?”

  “Think about it. I’ve just been there with Bull and Dexter. We all know that Blood’s goat isn’t there. If he shows up there tomorrow afternoon, it’ll be a coincidence too hard to explain.”

  He was right. I sighed. “Can’t you be just a little relieved that I did keep Sassy?”

  “Not as relieved as I am pissed off.”

  I couldn’t even imagine what he’d think if he knew I was sitting here, in a motel room, with my mother, the goat and my dog in the middle of a murder investigation. “I’m sorry, Mick.”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said. “You made this mess, you fix it.”

  And then he was gone.

  I sat there, on the chipped white toilet lid, pressing the phone to my cheek, and thinking how many ways I had screwed this up. If I wound up in jail or dead, it was my own fault.

  I turned off the bathroom light and returned to the other room where I sat on the edge of my bed and let the whole mess wash over me. I could hear my mother breathing in the next bed. If we’d had the kind of relationship where we shared our problems, I might have woken her. I shook my head. No. This one had gone way past dire, and there was no explaining it. It had taken on a life of its own, and like some wild creature I thought I had under control, it had turned on me, and I could feel the heat of its breath on my neck.

  Goats wake early. I was roused from a muddy sleep to a steady, clanging sound followed shortly by bleating. And then there was the smell. Apparently Sassy didn’t mind soiling his own bed. Or, maybe that’s why he was putting up a fuss now.

  I’d slept in my clothes and felt rumpled and grubby as I lowered my feet to the floor. My back screamed from a short night spent in a lumpy bed, but that would pass. It was time to tend to the livestock.

  The clanging sound had been Sassy’s horns banging up against the side of his crate.

  “You’d like to go out, wouldn’t you?” I kept my voice down. Bix raised a sleepy head, and then lowered it again. His little body was thrust up against my mother’s back, and she was snoring.

  I didn’t know what to expect in terms of goat dung, and was relieved to find small, dark pellets that I was able to clean up with toilet paper and flush. I wished I’d thought to bring air freshener.

  My watch said it was going on six. If Sassy needed some outdoor time, this was our opportunity. I decided to let my mother sleep, hoping she wouldn’t wake to find me gone and panic.

  I took Sassy out behind the motel again. The morning was cool, but the air heavy, as though the clouds were storing up the rain for some major downfall. While Sassy munched, I thought about what I’d do with him now. I didn’t want to sneak him out of the motel in broad daylight, which was when I’d have to move him. I could take my mother back to Dryden—clearly she was no worse off there than with me—and Bix could go home. So it’d just be Sassy and me driving around in a white van, waiting. And then I still had to pick up the money. I’d have to leave him at the motel, because Mick was right about moving Sassy back to the farm. Too big a coincidence. I’d give him a double dose of Bix’s downers, since the one I’d given him yesterday had little effect. I hoped that Mick, having some time to cool off, would not leave me hanging. However, as I replayed our conversation in my head, nothing that he said made me think that a change of heart was coming any time soon.

  When we returned to the room, my mother was awake and eating a slice of leftover pizza. It had spent the night on top of the air conditioner, so I hoped it wouldn’t hurt her.

  “Robyn, when are you going to tell me why that goat is here?”

  “It’s a really long story, Mother.” I sat on the edge of the bed I’d slept in.

  “Well, we would appear to have some time.” She gave me a look. “Unless, of course, you want to leave early so I can see that long-lost relative of mine.”

  “Mom, the less you know, the better off you’ll be. But I’m doing this for us. I’m just asking you to trust me.”

  “Well, then why can’t I ask you to trust me?”

&
nbsp; I sighed. “When this is over, I’ll explain.” Maybe by then I’d have time to think of something that didn’t involve kidnapping and extortion.

  Her expression didn’t soften, and so I said, “How about I get us some coffee?”

  She gave me a look that implied she knew what I was doing, but then she said, “Coffee would be nice. Perhaps a donut.”

  “Good idea.”

  But then when I looked for my handbag, it wasn’t on top of the dresser. Had I moved it? I stood in the middle of the room and did a three-sixty, scanning the furniture, the floor. I checked in the bathroom.

  “Did you see my purse, Mom?”

  “Why, no,” she said, tucking her brow. “Was it on that dresser?”

  “Yes.” I didn’t know where this was going yet, but already I didn’t care for the direction.

  “Well, that man last night—what was his name?”

  “Jack.”

  “Yes, him. He took something off the dresser.”

  My purse.

  “Oh, shit,” I said, crumpling to the floor.

  “Oh, Robyn, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. Until just now.” Her voice tightened.

  “It’s not your fault, Mom.”

  “What was in it?”

  “Everything,” I managed. “Everything.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. Why do I foul everything up?”

  “It’s not your fault,” I said, straining to keep my voice even.

  I pushed myself up from the floor and took stock. My keys weren’t in my purse, so I had them. I had my own cell phone. But the “extortion phone” and the voice changer were in my purse. Along with my money and credit cards. Perfect.

  “Do you have any money, Mom?” I knew the “sofa money” was a myth, but figured she probably did have a stash.

  “Well,” she said, drawing it out. “I do have a few dollars.”

  It turned out to be almost fifty dollars. I had no idea how she’d gotten it, and I didn’t want to know.

  As I thrust it into my pocket, she was giving me her look.

  “Mom, I have no money. No credit cards.” But it wasn’t until I said, “I promise I’ll pay you back,” that she relented.

  I took the van and found a convenience store where I bought some yoghurt and donuts and a bag of chips. I also bought three large cups of coffee. As luck would have it, there was a public phone at the gas station next door. It wasn’t my extortion phone, but it wasn’t my personal phone either.

  Before I drove back to the motel, I tried calling Mick from my cell phone. His answering machine kicked in on the fourth ring. “Mick, it’s Robyn. Call me. Please.”

  While my mother was munching on a donut, I went to the office where I found Matt stretched out in one of the chairs with his notebook computer on his lap.

  He sat up when I walked in. “Hey, Cindy. How’s it going?”

  “Good.” I handed him one of the coffees I’d bought. “Sorry for the commotion. Thought you might need this.”

  “Thanks.” He set his computer on a low table. “Sleep okay? I mean after that guy left.”

  “Yeah.” I gave a half shrug. “An old boyfriend.”

  Matt nodded. “That’s what I figured.” He removed the coffee’s lid and blew the steam off the top before taking a sip.

  I sat in the other chair, holding my cup between by hands. With a yawn, I said, “My mom is a little tired from the commotion. I think we’re going to stay another night.”

  “Sure,” he said, “not like we’re booked.”

  “I’ll need to run out in a little while for a couple of hours. But my mom really needs her rest. If I put up the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign, can I count on the cleaning people not bothering her?”

  “No problem,” he said. “I’ll talk to Anita.”

  “If you need to get in touch with me, here’s my cell number.” I scribbled it on a slip of paper. “I’m sure you won’t need it, but just in case.”

  “Sure,” he said, taking the paper.

  “I appreciate it.” I gave him a smile I hoped would remind him of Queen What’s-Her-Name and make him feel inclined toward chivalry.

  Before I returned to our room, I called my home voicemail and found a couple of messages. One was from Detective Hedges, before he tried my cell phone. The other was from Erika asking me to call her. It was important. I had planned to talk to her, but that wouldn’t be possible this morning. Not that it mattered. I’d given up on the stamp. If it was going to be recovered, Hedges would have to do it. Erika could wait.

  When I got back to the room I turned on the TV and my mother watched the Today Show and smoked while I fed Bix and changed the straw in the bottom of Sassy’s cage. He nuzzled my ear as I bent to the task. I gave him a hug. Were all goats this sweet?

  As I stuffed the soiled straw in the plastic bag I’d brought, I thought about calling Mick again. As much as he’d like to leave me hanging out to dry, he wouldn’t. Or, rather, he couldn’t. I was the one picking up the money, but he’d have to let me know who was delivering it. I wished I’d thought to ask him about that last night.

  I left for the convenience store just before ten and placed the call at about five after. Without my magical voice changer, I would have to invoke my “Arnold” voice. I punched in Bull’s phone number and settled back into my throat. As the phone rang, I went over the instructions in my head. Bull picked up on the third ring, and I said, “Have you got the money?”

  “Not yet. I—I’ve made arrangements.”

  “One o’clock this afternoon.”

  “Listen—”

  I had to wing it without my note cards. “No, you listen. At one p.m. bring the money to Phinny’s Tap in Fowler at Seventh and Main. Put it in the wastebasket in the men’s room and then leave. If all themoney is there, I will call you within the hour to tell you where you’ll find your goat.”

  “How do I know it’s alive?”

  “It is.”

  “Look, whoever you—”

  “One p.m. Phinny’s Tap. Don’t be late.”

  I disconnected and let my throat relax. Less said the better. I didn’t blame him for wanting to know if Sassy was okay, but there was literally no way to do that short of posing the goat with this morning’s Tribune.

  When I returned to the room, my mother hit the remote button that turned off the television. “I’d like some answers, Robyn.”

  I shook my head. “I told you I’d explain this all later.”

  “You’re not supposed to have that creature, are you?”

  I didn’t respond.

  “Did you steal it?”

  “Steal a goat?” I tried to convey a mix of disbelief and amusement.

  “You don’t keep a goat in a bedroom if you’re not trying to hide it. I may be somewhat senile, but I’m not stupid.”

  I just looked at her.

  “Don’t treat me like I am.”

  I nodded. “It’s really complicated. And I think the less you know, the better.”

  Now she looked hurt. “You’re afraid I’ll run off at the mouth.”

  I shrugged. “You wouldn’t do it on purpose.”

  She sighed deeply and took another cigarette out of the pack. “I hate this.” It was as though she were speaking to herself. Then she said to me, “How long do we have to stay here?”

  “We’ll be gone before the end of the day,” I said, grateful to have something I could tell her. “I’m going to have to leave you here with Bix and Sassy for a while. But when I get back, we’ll leave.”

  She put the cigarette between her lips and pressed her thumb against the lighter’s wheel. As she exhaled a stream of smoke, she said to me, “Are you going to leave my cigarettes here?”

  “I can’t.”

  She nodded. “Then I won’t stay here.” Now she looked at me. “Take me with you.”

  “I can’t. It’s—” I almost said “dangerous” then caught myself.

  “Why not? Are you ashamed of me?”

  “Of c
ourse not.”

  “Robyn, I don’t know how I’ll manage with these animals. And I don’t know what you’re doing, but I want to help.” Then she added, as I knew she would, “You are using my money, aren’t you?”

  I wanted to tell her she could help by staying right here. A second option would be to take her back to Dryden before I went to the Wired Lizard, but I was running out of time. I still had to stop at my place to switch cars. And then, to my shame, I thought of how, should Bull happen to look inside the Lizard, we’d look like a mother and daughter sharing coffee and scones and not like the pathetic mastermind behind an extortion plot and her somewhat addled mother.

  “Okay, Mom.” I moved over to the bed to sit next to her. “But you’ve got to do what I tell you to do. We’ll just be going out for coffee, but I really can’t have you talking with people. I’ve got to be low-key about this.”

  “Coffee?”

  I nodded. “And a pastry.”

  “All right.”

  “And I’ll have to leave you alone for a few minutes. Just a few. Promise me you’ll be okay?”

  “Yes, dear.”

  This time I gave Sassy two of Bix’s pills stuffed into a glazed donut. He weighed three times Bix. Why was this goat so—well—Sassy? Then I poured a little more food into Bix’s dish, hung the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the outside of the door and walked my mother to the van.

  CHAPTER 21

  My disguise was subtle this time. I wore my hair pulled up and tucked under a Cubs cap, and an oversized T-shirt with jeans. Typical coffee shop wear.

  I stopped at my apartment, swapping the van for my Honda. The white van was way too obvious a vehicle. I also grabbed a tote bag and threw a few items into it so it wouldn’t look empty. Then I drove my mother over to the coffee shop. It was just before twelve when I pulled up in front. There were no parking spaces nearby, but I noticed one across the street a couple doors down from Phinny’s. If I was lucky it would still be there when I drove around the block. But it would be bit of a walk for my mom, so I dropped her and her cane off in front of the shop and told her to wait while I parked the car.

  “Just what is it we’re doing here?” she asked for the umpteenth time.