by Toni Leland
He didn’t answer right away and Julia threw him a sideways glance. He was looking at her as though trying to decide how much she could afford.
“You bring me the details and a photo, and I’ll let you know how much it will be. I have to talk to my supplier.” A sly smile crept across his features. “I might be able to get you a discount...”
Julia’s knee-jerk thought was to tell him to go to hell, but she restrained herself. “Let’s keep it to business.”
She pulled up in front of the motel office and Ace climbed out, then leaned back into the cab. “I’ll be at the tavern tonight. If you bring the stuff there, I’ll buy you a beer.”
After work, Julia walked the six blocks to her apartment, deep in thought. The prospect of stepping into the world of criminals made her cringe, but without some form of credentials, she was doomed to stay in the truck stop town indefinitely. A train rumbled down the tracks behind the apartment complex and she gazed around at the dismal landscape. Maybe she could get a small car, take some trips, lose some of her feelings of isolation. Perhaps these truckers had the right idea. No real roots, a different landscape every day, probably lots friends in many states. She chuckled. She’d heard more than one story about truckers who’d had wives on both coasts. Dillon’s face appeared in her thoughts. What was his story?
Inside the apartment, she closed the drapes, then lifted her small television off the top of the video player and set it aside. Unscrewing the VCR case, she reached inside and pulled out a flat plastic bag containing a few hundred-dollar bills. Most of her original stash had gone toward the purchase of three excellent diamonds. She chuckled, remembering the look on the jeweler’s face when she’d forked over all that cash. At the time, she’d worried he would think something was fishy, but he’d counted the money and boxed up the stones, no questions asked. She’d considered having him remove the diamonds from her ring, then decided it would focus too much attention on her. That night, she’d pried the diamonds out herself, and added them to the new ones. The gems were her future, secure in their value and easy to hide.
She counted her remaining cash, pleasantly surprised at how frugal she’d been. Two thousand dollars should pay for her new ID. The remaining six thousand went back inside the VCR. She gazed at an envelope taped to the inside of the VCR case. It contained her real identification. If all went well, she’d be able to destroy that soon.
She stepped in front of the mirror and gave herself the once-over. Her dyed hair was fading, but at least she didn’t have dark roots. Her cheeseburger cheeks matched her French fry hips and she grimaced. When enough time had passed and Stephen had stopped looking, she would make an effort to at least regain her figure. She scooped up her wallet and headed out, hoping to catch a bus to downtown St. Louis where she’d get her picture taken.
Chapter 15
The heavy odor of stale beer and cigarettes hit Julia as she entered the tavern. She wrinkled her nose and squinted into the dim room, letting her eyes to adjust. The place was a worse dump than it looked from the outside. Cinderblock walls held a few faded posters of Nascar drivers, and the mirror behind the bar was smudgy with years of smokers’ breath. Country Western music blasted from a radio and mixed with the raucous laughter and loud talk, making the noise level painful. In the far corner, Ace Anderson rose to his feet and waved. She took a mental breath and headed toward the booth.
He grinned. “Beginnin’ to wonder if you was gonna stand me up.”
Julia slid into the seat, noting the cracked plastic repaired with equally shabby black duct tape. “Had to get a picture taken.”
Anderson held up two fingers to the bartender, then turned back to Julia. “You want somethin’ to eat?”
Her first reaction was to say no, get the business finished, and get the hell out of there. But her stomach growled and her nose picked up the aroma of something from the kitchen.
She nodded. “What’s good here?”
“Pizza’s great, burgers are good.”
A tall glass of frothy beer appeared in front of her and she took a sip, then a big swallow. “Pizza sounds good.”
Anderson leaned his arms on the table, his face serious. “License and birth certificate will run you three grand.”
Julia kept her expression neutral. “That’s too much.”
He shook his head. “Not for the good stuff. This guy produces ID’s that are ninety-nine percent foolproof. They even got those fancy holograms and magnetic stripes in ’em” He raised an eyebrow. “I can get you cheaper ones, but you run the risk of getting nailed.”
Julia’s shoulders sagged. If she spent three thousand dollars for identification, she couldn’t risk depleting her stash to buy a car. But good ID was critical, more important than a car—she had no choice.
“I’ll give you two.”
Anderson frowned. “I don’t usually negotiate.” He brightened. “But since I’m a nice guy and you obviously need this stuff, I can go twenty-five hundred.”
Julia started to get up. She’d be damned if she’d let this guy make a huge profit on her “need”.
“Okay, okay, two thousand.”
She settled back in her seat. “When will the stuff be ready?”
“Two weeks. I should be passing through here again about then.” He pursed his lips. “I need a deposit on the job, the rest when I deliver the product.”
Julia picked up the envelope containing her details and photo, and slid it across the table. “I’ll bring the money to work on Monday.”
She scooted out of the booth, and Anderson looked surprised. “Hey, ain’t you gonna eat?”
“Our business here is finished.”
She turned and walked through the haze of smoke and out the front door.
The fresh night air cleared her head of the noxious bar odors and slight beer buzz. She looked up at the sky, crystal clear and studded with stars. With her soon-to-be newly found freedom, she could leave this place and start over.
Again.
Sunday was one of those brilliant, crisp December days that made a person forget the endless dreary, gray weeks that typified winter in the Midwest. Julia steered the pickup truck toward the frontage road that ran parallel to the interstate. She glanced at the truck plaza and briefly thought about Dillon, wondering where he was and when he might come around again. She snorted. For all she knew, he might be in the area every week. If he didn’t have truck problems, why would he come to Bud’s?
The frontage road intersected with a two-lane highway and Julia saw the sign for Lakeville. Turning north, she drove at exactly the speed limit, glancing nervously in the rearview mirror every couple of minutes. Fifteen minutes later, she entered the city limits of Lakeville and chuckled. The place was little more than a wide spot in the road with a gas station and one small church. She scanned the area. No sign of a lake, either. Most of the small houses were decked out for Christmas, most of them overdone with huge plastic snowmen and Santas, and more lights than the tree at Rockefeller Center. Some of the large older homes were nicely appointed with greenery and ribbons, making them look like the pictures on Christmas cards. Her own decorating at home had consisted of some greenery and a few potted Poinsettias. Stephen wasn’t much for holidays, and always planned a trip to somewhere. She pursed her lips. She no longer had to please Stephen. Tomorrow she’d go out and find a little live tree for her apartment.
Stagecoach Road angled off the main highway and ribboned through acres of flat fields of what looked like cornstalk stubble. In the distance, several barns and buildings punctuated the dark brown landscape. As she drew closer, Julia could see horses in pens and pastures. She let out a slow breath—there had to be at least fifty. A few heads came up as she passed by, but for the most part, the horses continued nosing along the barren ground. She slowed so she could get a good look at the animals. Several wore blankets, and they all wore halters. Horses of every color and size, some looking quite good and others that obviously had been neglected or abused. Julia
’s throat tightened. How could anyone hurt something so beautiful? Coquette’s pretty face appeared in Julia’s thoughts and she pushed away the possibility that her beloved mare could ever end up like this. Pain crushed her chest. If Coquette suffered, it would be because Julia had abandoned her. I would be no better than the people who abused these horses.
A faded sign sat atop the mailbox at the driveway. She parked the truck beside an old station-wagon. How did this woman pay to take care of all these horses and this property? A moment later, five yapping Jack Russell terriers converged around her.
She laughed. “Boy, you guys are sure a good alarm system.”
The dogs danced around her, then turned and raced toward an old farmhouse.
Casey Turner waved from the porch.
“Howdy. You’re just in time to help feed.”
Julia chuckled. “From the looks of your herd, you probably spend all day feeding.”
“Pretty close. You want a cup of coffee?”
Casey’s leathery face softened with a friendly smile, and the gesture almost overwhelmed Julia. She hadn’t realized how much she missed talking to another woman.
“I’d love it. I’m Ginger, by the way.”
Casey headed into the house, talking over her shoulder. “Sorry for the clutter. I’m not much of a housekeeper. I don’t actually spend much time in the house anyway.”
The rooms were sparsely furnished and the clutter she’d mentioned consisted only of stacks of magazines and newspapers. The kitchen was bright and cheerful and smelled of cinnamon. In the corner on a folded quilt, a black and white sheepdog with a gray muzzle lifted its head and thumped its tail.
“Barney doesn’t work anymore, lives the good life in here where it’s warm. He’s been with me for almost twenty years.”
Casey pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and gestured for Julia to sit. “I’m glad you came to visit. Gets kinda lonely out here.” She set two mugs of coffee on the table, then a plate of cinnamon rolls. “Any chance you’d like to adopt one of the horses?”
Julia smiled sadly. “I’d love to, but I live in an apartment.” She hesitated. “And besides, I don’t know anything about taking care of horses.”
Casey snorted. “These critters know all about that.” Her tone softened. “If you want to learn, I could sure use another volunteer out here.”
Julia brightened. “Is that how you manage so many?”
“Yeah, we have seven volunteers who come around, not especially on a regular basis though, just when they can find the time. Ideally, we should have one volunteer for every five horses, but it’s more like one to eight.” She sighed. “But I take what I can get.”
Julia sipped her coffee, wondering how far to probe. “If you don’t mind me asking, uh, how do you pay for feed and stuff?”
Casey had just taken a large bite of cinnamon roll and she nodded, holding up one finger while she chewed and swallowed.
“Folks around here are real good to us. The feed store occasionally donates some, one of the local farmers gives me hay from time to time, and the veterinarian is one of the volunteers. I work a few nights at the laundry in the next town, and I’m on Social Security. It’s tight, but we manage.”
“I’d really like to help, but you’ll have to teach me.”
Casey grinned. “You are on.” She jumped up from the table. “Let’s go meet the inmates.”
Julia’s thoughts whirled as they walked toward the large white barn. She could be of some use and she’d have the chance to be around horses again. They walked through the door and the heady, familiar, oh-so-sweet smells of a horse barn washed over her, taking her instantly back to her own place. Casey’s barn was not fancy, but it was clean and well-maintained. A young girl was cleaning stalls at one end, and an older man was loading feed buckets into a rolling cart. Several inquisitive faces appeared over stall doors, and one dark horse whinnied loudly.
Casey laughed. “Oh, you big baby. You can go out later.” She turned to Julia. “He’s recovering from a hairline fracture and has to be hand-walked and watched. He’s too damned frisky for his own good.”
The horse looked like a good one, perhaps a Thoroughbred, with fine features and elegant ears. He bobbed his head impatiently.
“What’s his story? How did he get the fracture?”
“Trying to kick his way out of a one-horse trailer where he’d been tied for a week.”
Horror swept through Julia’s head. “Oh my god, a week?”
Casey stopped and turned to face her squarely. “Honey, he’s one of the luckier ones. You’d better get it into your head that, if you work here, you’ll see and hear all sorts of horrible things. This place isn’t for the faint hearted.”
Julia turned and looked back at the dark horse. At that moment, she vowed she would find a way to rescue Coquette. The comparison of animal abusers and wife beaters was too strong to ignore. Stephen hated horses, and he had no conscience. It would be just like him to hurt them just to get back at her for disappearing.
“I understand. I’m fine with it. Tell me, what happens to all these animals after you’ve rehabilitated them?”
“We try to find adoptive homes for them. Some of the better ones, the trained ones, we often donate to riding programs or 4-H projects. The only stipulation for accepting a rescue horse is a legal agreement that the horse won’t be sold without our approval.”
Julia nodded. One thing was certain—Casey Turner was deeply dedicated to her cause.
“Okay, I’m ready to start. What’s first?”
Julia eased into bed and slid down under the covers, reveling in the warmth. After four hours outdoors at the farm, her fingers were stiff with cold, she couldn’t feel her toes, and she was chilled to the bone. Next time, she’d wear the boots and find some gloves. Regardless of her own discomfort, she had felt wonderful the entire afternoon. Every horse had almost seemed to understand their salvation. A few were skittish from prior mishandling and abuse, but even those animals had offered a bit of trust to their new keepers.
She was especially interested in the dark Thoroughbred with the fracture. Casey had indicated that the gelding was well trained and would make a good riding horse. Julia stared at a blotch on the ceiling, wondering if she could adopt the horse and keep him at Casey’s. That way, she’d be able to ride whenever…
“Nuts, I can’t do that. I supposedly don’t know anything about horses.”
She reflected on the afternoon, cringing a little at a couple of mistakes she’d made in her charade. It was so easy to be around the horses, she’d forgotten herself a few times, and Casey had noticed at least once when Julia had expertly haltered a young mare. Hopefully, Casey had accepted her explanation that the skill was one she’d learned quickly, just by watching. She’d have to be more careful until she’d visited the farm a few more times and given herself time to “learn”.
The hardest part of the experience had been seeing and hearing about the atrocities visited upon those helpless animals. Unbidden, Coquette’s face appeared in Julia’s thoughts and the pain overtook her. Tears soaked the pillow and, when there were no more, she drifted into a troubled sleep.
Chapter 16
Bud stuck his head through the office door. “The wife wants to know if you want to come over for Christmas dinner.”
Julia turned in surprise. “Bud, that’s real thoughtful. I’d like that.”
“I’ll tell her.” He disappeared, then popped back in. “Oh, I’m gonna close up that week. It’s always slow, and we got grandkids comin’ from Kentucky.”
Julia nodded, then turned back to her inventory sheets. What the hell am I going to do for a whole week? Then she brightened. Casey would be thrilled.
A couple of hours later, she walked into the garage where Bud was testing a tire. “I’m goin’ up to the plaza for lunch. You want anything?”
Bud shook his head and grunted, and Julia returned to the office to grab her jacket. Maybe the convenience store would ha
ve some gloves and a scarf. She stepped outside into another bright winter day, shading her eyes against the glare. She’d remember to bring the sunglasses with her tomorrow. As she trudged up the road toward the truck plaza, a tightening began in the pit of her stomach. Maybe Hector Dillon would be there. If he was, what would she say? Should she say anything? What message would it send if she ignored him? The closer she got, the more nervous she became and she started scanning the trucks parked in the lot. A to Z wasn’t among them. Disappointment threaded into her chest, followed by feelings of scorn. If there was anything she didn’t need in her life, it was a man.
The restaurant was brightly decorated with lights and the air hummed with Christmas music. Julia found a seat at the back, then with a quick glance around at the other customers, she picked up the menu. Remembering her chance encounter with someone who knew her, she wondered if this was a good idea. She’d been missing for over a year, but holiday travel might bring others who would recognize her. She scrambled out of the booth and headed toward the counter. Ten minutes later, she trudged back toward work, her lunch in a white plastic box, her fingers tingling with the cold.
Ace Anderson’s truck was parked in the lot. Julia took a deep breath and prepared herself to enter the world of criminals.
Dillon shifted down and lumbered along the road toward Bud’s garage. The old tractor had a mind of its own when it wasn’t hauling a 60,000 pound semi-trailer. He squinted and leaned forward to get a better look at a lone figure walking along the side of the road. He’d bet money it was Ginger. Had her attitude changed any since he’d seen her last? He felt kind of bad about his unpleasant reaction to her questions. She was probably just making small talk, but the subject of his solitary life was a touchy one. He’d have to get over that if he wanted any kind of normalcy in his life. And for sure, if he wanted to get lucky.
He eased up alongside her and rolled down the window. “Hey, you need a ride?”
