“We need to make a plan,” Lizzie said. “I feel better with you all here, but you need to know things could go awry. You could be arrested. For what, I don’t know. Bad cops can make things happen to those near and dear to you. Aggie explained all that to me.”
“Is your sister okay?” Honey asked.
“Actually, I think she is physically. But not well enough to go back on the street and risk getting hurt again. She’s planting organic carrots with the help of a friend. It’s a no-brainer, so don’t ask. You know, whatever it takes to get past a bad time in your life.
“So are you girls in or out? By the way, that guy I told you I met, he has some friends. I thought we’d throw a little barbecue if it ever stops raining. Nice normal guys for you to play with. What’s it gonna be?” Lizzie held her breath as she waited for their response.
“Oh, we’re in?”
“Are any of them rich?” Honey asked.
“Probably not. Most nice guys aren’t rich. I’m sure they have jobs that pay nice wages. Money isn’t everything as I’ve found out.”
“Okay,” Honey said agreeably. “Doorbell’s ringing. Must be the pizza.”
Alice made it to the door before Lizzie. “Who is it?” Lizzie called out.
“Paisan Pizza. Two with the works, one with extra cheese. Forty bucks.”
Lizzie opened the door to accept the pizzas. She handed over fifty dollars, closed the door, and shot all three locks into place.
While the girls divvied up the pies, Lizzie fetched paper plates and napkins from the kitchen, along with rawhide chews for Alice, who turned her nose up at them. The girls broke off pieces of crust and handed them to her. Alice’s tail wagged in thanks. She settled down and munched contentedly.
Forty miles from Atlanta at a greasy spoon diner off the interstate, six men sat around a scarred, grimy table.
To anyone interested enough to wonder who they were, the men could have passed for a group of guys on a fishing trip. No one gave any of them a second look.
They were drinking beer by the pitcher and indulging in all-you-can-eat deep-fried crawfish. The establishment would lose money on these six with their hearty appetites.
“It’s time to call it a day,” one of the men said. “I know Will’s death was an accident, but as we all know, he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. Who knows what’s going to come to light now that he’s dead. I say we scratch everything and wait till we see if Jade decides to resign. Furthermore, the vibes I’m picking up aren’t good. Fear is a terrible thing. Terrible.”
The speaker paused while the empty crawfish platter was removed, along with two empty pitchers. Replacements arrived within seconds. The guys were known for their hefty tips. The waitresses hustled when they had their monthly fishing meetings.
Another man adjusted his fishing hat with lures hanging off its brim. He’d never fished in his life. “She’s fearless, so get her resigning out of your head. She’s already talked to Shay three or four times. Hell, she could be his new best friend, and they could also be telephone pals. Will said Shay was acting different lately. Two plus two equals four.” The man finished the beer in his glass, belched, then refilled the glass.
“We are not wimping out here. We have too many loose ends. We still have…”
“Dump it!” a fourth voice said. “We cut our losses and come back to play some other day. It’s a wise man who knows when to retreat. I’m retreating.”
The third voice spoke again. “You retreat when I say you retreat. It’s all going to blow over.”
The fourth voice spoke again, his tone sharp and angry. “Hawk came visiting. The guy is a bloodhound. His kind never gives up. I saw him hopping into Aggie’s car. That means the two of them are in this together. You add that damn dog, and two plus two is still coming up to four.”
A fifth voice spoke up. It was older-sounding and nervous. “The guys are right. I’m damn glad I’m retiring. You guys do what you want. Keep my share. Aggie’s a good cop, and you all know it. Shay knows it, too, and so does the commissioner. You want to mess with that, go for it, but I’m done. Aggie is never going to give up. Killing was not something I signed on for. The rest of you can do whatever you want to do. Take my advice and give it up. I’m outta here.”
The men who remained at the table had mixed emotions showing on their faces. Three of them wanted to follow the fifth man out the door, but Dutch Davis’s good arm snaked out at the same time Joe Sonders slammed his fist on the table. “No one is going anywhere.”
The fifth man ignored him and kept walking, right through the doorway.
“Look, he’s not going to the cops.” Davis laughed, an evil sound. “He’s going into hiding, but we know where he’ll be. We got it made, boys. All those boats and snakes coming into south Florida. Leave him alone. For now.”
Lizzie arrived at Becker’s a scant five minutes before Nathan Hawk. She settled herself in a cozy corner next to a window that overlooked an outdoor eating area. For smokers, she assumed. With the rain, the tables would be unoccupied today.
Becker’s was mainly a buffet-type restaurant with every breakfast food imaginable. Food could be ordered off the menu, but most people chose the buffet because of the mountains of fresh fruit, bacon, and sausage.
Lizzie was perusing the menu when Nathan Hawk appeared in a suit and pristine white shirt. She blinked as her heart kicked up a beat. He smiled. She smiled back.
“You’re looking’ good this morning, Nathan.”
“I have a meeting with the police commissioner and the mayor. I plan on coming down real hard on them. I have a buddy who works for a rival paper, and he’s going to do the same thing. Something fishy is going on where Tom Madsen’s death is concerned. We’re going to run my piece on the front page tomorrow. Still no leads in the cop killing. Your six months of hell and your dog’s as well. I have a few quotes I’m going to use from Tom’s parents. I want your permission to add those threatening phone calls and the hit-and-run attempt. It will help, Aggie.”
“I didn’t report those incidents, Nathan. The chief will chew my tail out. Okay, okay, I can handle it. Go ahead and include it.”
“How do you feel about going live with the local TV station? I can arrange it so one of the reporters does a follow-up on the print. It will be casual—they catch you on your way somewhere, and it’s kind of off the cuff.”
“I think I’m supposed to clear stuff like that with the chief,” Lizzie mumbled.
“You think. Don’t you know?”
Oh shit. “I’m a cop, Nathan, not a newshound. Most cops, and I include myself, work overtime trying to stay out of the limelight. I never had to do that before. Tom was my partner, and he usually made comments, if there were any, to the media. I stayed out of it.”
“That’s weird. Do you want the buffet or order from the menu?”
Lizzie looked around at the line forming at the breakfast bar. “I think I’m going to do the buffet. I don’t eat much at breakfast. The bacon looks nice and crunchy and the cantaloupe looks juicy and sweet. Toast and coffee, and that’s it for me. How about you?”
“Watch this,” Nathan said, getting up to stand in line. Lizzie followed him as he added some of everything to a huge oval plate. “Can you really eat all of that?” she asked in amazement.
“And more.” Nathan chuckled. “I’m big on breakfast. Most times I don’t get to eat lunch, and dinner is when I have time to pick it up. It could be midnight. May I say you look enticing for such an early hour.”
Enticing. No one had ever called her enticing before. She was wearing jeans and a pink tee shirt that strained across her breasts. He must like pink. She knew her face was probably as pink as her shirt. “Thank you.” She bit down on a piece of bacon. Something was happening to her where this man was concerned. She looked up to see him smiling at her.
“Aggie Jade, I didn’t know you knew how to blush,” he teased.
The low-voiced chatter and the clink of china in the resta
urant came to a halt at the same moment Nathan’s beeper went off. The volume on a small television suddenly squawked to life, mesmerizing the patrons. Lizzie listened in horror as the startled commentator shouted that there had been an explosion at a high-rise hotel in Buckhead. Guests were being evacuated in an orderly manner.
“Gotta run, Aggie. I’ll call you. I hate to keep doing this to you, but duty calls. Can you pick up the check?”
“Sure. Go!” Did this mean she should report in to police headquarters? Did they call in all off-duty officers when a disaster like this happened? She paid the check and headed home in case a call came through asking her to report for work. When she stopped for a red light, she yanked her personal cell phone from her purse and dialed Aggie’s number in Pennsylvania. While she waited for the call to go through, Lizzie watched the torrents of rain battling with her windshield wipers. A minute later, the mobile operator said the customer she was dialing was unavailable. Aggie must have forgotten to turn on her phone. Or she was still sleeping. Damn.
Alex Rossiter padded his way into the kitchen in the old farmhouse to make coffee. He scratched at his bristly beard and yawned elaborately. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept till seven o’clock. Forever ago probably.
He’d also turned into a slob since coming to the farm. He looked down at the torn and wrinkled tee shirt and equally wrinkled shorts he’d pulled on. Just in case Aggie was in the kitchen. He’d remedy that when he showered. He scratched at the stubble on his cheeks and chin again before he added water and coffee to the pot. To make breakfast or not to make breakfast.
Aggie’s bedroom door had been open, so that had to mean she was somewhere about, which answered his question. He would make breakfast. Aggie had made pancakes yesterday, so it was his turn.
He slapped ten slices of bacon into the frying pan, knowing how much Aggie loved crisp bacon. Gus loved it, too. Maybe he should whip up an omelet. How hard could that be? You chopped some peppers and onions, added cheese to the eggs, and, voilà, an omelet. Where was she?
Aggie was depressed. Hell, I’m depressed, too. If the rain didn’t let up soon, he was going to go out of his mind. He hoped the rain was all that was bothering Aggie.
He looked up when he heard the old, wooden screen door open, then slam shut. “They sprouted! Maybe the rain helped. I think that plastic cover with the burlap on top helped. It warmed the ground. They sprouted, Alex. I swear to God, my organic carrots are coming up. Oooh, that bacon smells good, and so does the coffee. I’m starved.”
Ah, this is the old Aggie. “They really sprouted, huh? That’s great. It’s a warm spring rain. The weatherman said the sun might come out today.”
“Did he really? That’s wonderful.”
“Do you know what else I heard on the news? There was an explosion in Atlanta at one of the high-rise hotels. Buckhead to be exact.”
Aggie washed her hands before she started to set the table. “Was anyone hurt?”
“They didn’t say. They said the evacuation of the guests was being handled in an orderly manner, whatever that means. They were rehashing the same thing and showing the same pictures over and over, so I turned it off. Do you want me to put the news back on?”
“No. We’re really isolated way out here. All kinds of things could happen in the world, and we’d never know about it unless we turned on the TV. I guess it was a good idea for my uncle to put in a satellite dish before they became fashionable. I like the idea of not having a phone hooked up. There’s something about the ringing of a stationary phone that always sets my teeth on edge. Cell phones don’t bother me. Which reminds me, mine is charging. I need to disconnect it.”
Alex removed the bacon from the frying pan and placed it on some paper towels to drain off the grease. He used another frying pan for the omelet. Gus barked to show he smelled the bacon and wanted his share. Aggie handed him a piece that he virtually inhaled. He barked for more. She wagged her finger to show he got one piece and that was it. The shepherd walked over to the door, turning around to see if his owner meant what she said. Resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to get any more bacon, at least for the time being, he flopped down on the carpet by the door and stretched out.
Alex turned to eye Aggie. She looked nice today, in coveralls and a yellow shirt rolled up to her elbows. She’d put on a few pounds since coming to the farm. She almost looked like the old Aggie, except for her eyes. He wondered when the old sparkle would return. She brushed at her new haircut, tendrils curling around her ears. She was wearing little gold earrings today. Maybe that meant something. He also thought he caught a whiff of perfume. He hoped those little touches were for him. His culinary efforts would never win friends and influence people. Even Gus sniffed everything he cooked, sometimes actually walking away from it and eating his hard, dry dog food. Sometimes life was a bitch.
“This looks very good, Alex. Let me chop up Gus’s food so it cools off faster. You overslept today. What’s that all about?”
Alex shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe the sound of the rain. The bed was too warm to get out of. Nothing on my agenda. What time did you get up?”
“Three o’clock. I had a dream that the carrots sprouted. I was always an early bird. Lizzie is a night owl. I spent the time going over and over the notebooks, but I can’t find a thing that will help us. I wonder how Lizzie’s doing. She didn’t send an e-mail last night. I guess that means everything is okay on her end. I need to tell her I came up dry as far as the notebooks go. Maybe she’ll have better luck. If the sun comes out, let’s go into town.”
“Sounds good to me. How’s the toast?”
“Good. It would have been better if you had taken the butter out of the fridge so it could soften up.” She grinned to mute the criticism.
“I’ll make a note of that. Would you look at that!” Alex said, pointing to the kitchen window. “Is that sun I’m seeing?”
“Yes, sir, that’s the sun! I just know it’s going to be a great day!”
Alex watched Aggie, his shoulders lightening imperceptibly as she carried her plate to the sink and unplugged her cell phone. She was slipping it into her pocket when it rang. She looked up, a startled expression on her face. Gus barked.
“Click the button, Aggie. I’m sure it’s Lizzie.”
“Spring Willow Farm,” Aggie said breathlessly. “Lizzie, is that you? What’s wrong?”
“Put the news on, one of those twenty-four-hour news channels. There was an explosion at one of the big hotels. Should I report in, call the chief, what?”
“Are you off today?”
“In a manner of speaking. The chief gave me a couple of days off. Whatever that virus was that hit the department is over and everyone is back at work.”
“Yes, check in. You could get traffic duty at the site, school duty, wherever they need you. They should have called you by now.”
“I went out to breakfast with Nathan Hawk, and he got a call and had to leave. I’m home now, but no one from the department called. There is a message from Will Fargo’s brother. He wants to know where all of Will’s records are? He wants me to ask the chief. Will Fargo died yesterday morning, Aggie. I was there when it happened. He tried to talk to me. I asked him if you were set up, and I think he said yes. He tried to tell me something else, but I couldn’t understand him. His brother was there, and he couldn’t understand him either. It sounded like he was saying, cards, lard, or maybe hard.”
“I don’t know what that means. I’ll think about it. Hey, my organic carrots sprouted overnight. What do you think of that?”
“I think you’re nuts is what I think. Oh, before I forget, I gave the notebooks to Nathan Hawk. Maybe he will come up with something.”
“I sure hope so. I think I’m incapable of analyzing all of that minutely detailed data right now.”
“I have to call Will’s brother back. What should I say?” Lizzie asked.
I’m sorry about Will. I bet you five bucks he kept all his stuff in t
he impound locker. Think about it, it makes sense. He’d just log it in under his own name, lock it up. Hell, he might even have told the chief. He was in charge, but there are two extra shifts, and he wouldn’t want anyone messing with his stuff. If you’re reporting in, ask the chief. I think he’s one of the good guys, Lizzie. But, I’m not sure.”
“He told me anytime I wanted to talk we could go off-site. I wasn’t going to tell you this, Aggie, but I’ve changed my mind. The reason I’m changing my mind is I am not a cop, and I don’t know the mind-set. I don’t want to screw up. I’ve had three or four threatening phone calls. I used the whistle after the first couple. The day before yesterday someone in a dark car ran up on the curb, and if Alice hadn’t barked, both Nathan and I would have been killed. We dived for the grass at the end of the sidewalk. It was raining real hard, and we couldn’t get a definite make on the car or the license plate.”
Trading Places Page 12
