by Becky Durfee
“The dog kept sniffing his feet; it was very cute,” Isabelle continued. “I imagine, in another couple of months, the baby will be enthralled with that little dog.”
“He already is curious about Baxter,” Jenny said, referring to her black lab mix at home. “He always looks at Bax when he walks by.”
“Well, Baxter has a lot less fur to pull than this sheltie does.”
Jenny bombarded her mother with questions about how much—and how well—Steve had been eating, sleeping, pooping and peeing. Zack winced when she engaged in the diaper talk with her mother, clearly less concerned than Jenny about the frequency of the baby’s messy bottom. Once Jenny’s fears had been eased and her curiosities satisfied, she got off the phone with her mom and looked over at Zack with a blank expression.
“What’s that look about?” he asked.
“What look?”
“Exactly.”
Jenny lowered her shoulders and explained, “I don’t know what to feel. I’m both happy and sad at the same time.”
“It sounds like the baby’s doing well,” Zack noted.
“He is…and that’s what’s making me sad. And happy.”
Zack shook his head. “Women are complicated.”
“We are complicated,” Jenny agreed.
After blinking a few times, he asked, “Why would the fact that the baby is doing well make you sad?”
“Because he’s doing well without me.”
Zack remained both silent and motionless.
“Don’t try to figure women out; you’ll never get it. Just give me one more second…I have one other call to make, and then I’ll stop being rude and I’ll start paying attention to you.”
She scrolled through her contacts until she found Mick’s name, pressing the button to give him a call. He answered with a quiet, “Hey, Jenny.”
“Hey.” She lowered her eyebrows. “Is everything okay? You don’t sound too happy about talking to me.”
“It’s that obvious, huh?”
Nearly overcome with a sense of fear, Jenny asked, “What’s the matter?”
Mick released a long breath on the other end of the phone. “I’ll feel like an asshole if I tell you,” he said shamefully, “but I’ll feel like an asshole if I don’t.”
“What happened?”
After an extended period of silence, he confessed, “I’m pretty sure John smoked crack the other night.”
Jenny closed her eyes, feeling so disheartened by those words she could cry. “You’re kidding me.”
“I wish I was,” he said with remorse, “but I would never joke about something like that.”
“What happened?” Jenny looked across the table to see the concern on Zack’s face. She held up a finger, instructing him to hang on while she waited for an explanation from Mick.
“I don’t even know. I came home…two nights ago, I guess it was…and the house smelled funny. Like burnt plastic.”
Jenny wiped her eyes; that’s how John’s house had smelled when she met him during the throes of his addiction.
Mick continued, “He was clearly acting strangely, and I figured he’d smoked something based on the smell of the house. I knew crack was his drug of choice, so I looked up what crack smells like, and the site said it does smell like burnt plastic.”
“It does,” Jenny replied with defeat.
Mick made a sound, expressing his unhappiness. “I didn’t actually see him do anything, so I was reluctant to call you. I hoped that it was just some kind of misunderstanding. John and I have become pretty good friends over the past few months. He’s a solid guy. I’d hate to see him fall back into his old ways.”
“You and me both.”
He let out a sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you as soon as it happened. I just didn’t know what to do. It was one slip-up, and I wasn’t sure if that meant he was on a bad path again or if it was an isolated incident. I’d hate to see him lose everything over one moment of weakness.”
“He won’t lose everything,” Jenny assured him. “I won’t give up on him that easily. But I also won’t allow slip-ups. I’ll make a phone call and let the testers know that he should be given a quote-unquote random drug test today.” She sucked in a breath. “If he fails it, then he’ll just need to go back to rehab for a while. That was part of our deal. He gets the house and the job and the insurance, but if any drug tests come back positive, he’s got to get some help. In fact, he signed a document saying just that, and it’s been notarized.”
“So, he’s not getting kicked out of the house?” Mick sounded guardedly optimistic.
“No, he’s not getting kicked out. My goal is to help him; putting him out on the street won’t accomplish that.”
“Good,” he replied with relief. “That makes me feel better.”
“I’m glad,” Jenny said. Putting some positivity in her tone, she asked, “And how are you doing?”
“I’m doing well. One day at a time, you know?”
“You’re adjusting okay to living indoors?”
“Yeah. It does have its challenges, but the benefits are totally worth it. It’s nice to be able to sleep at night with a locked door, knowing I’m safe. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I wake up and I don’t know where I am—I think I’m still on the street, or back in Iraq. It takes a minute for the reality to sink in, but it’s nice when it does.”
“Does Lucy sleep in bed with you?” Jenny asked, referring to the overly-timid pit bull she saved from euthanasia to give to Mick as a pet. “She was supposed to help with the nightmares.”
“Lucy takes up more than half the bed,” he said with a laugh, “and she snores. But, yes, she does help. When I start to freak out, it’s nice just to have her with me. It calms me down.”
“Excellent. I assume she’s doing better, too?”
“She’s comfortable here, in the house,” Mick explained. “She is still painfully shy when we take her outside around strangers and other dogs, but she’s getting better. Slowly.”
“Good,” Jenny said. “Is work going well?”
“Work is great,” he replied. “It’s nice to have a reason to get out of bed in the morning, and it’s even better to have a good reason. I like being able to help people. And,” he added playfully, “it’s led to something nice in my life. I have a girlfriend now.”
Jenny felt her posture stiffen slightly. She had found herself attracted to Mick when she’d first met him; his sad, heroic story tugged at her heartstrings, especially since she and Zack were in a bad spot in their marriage at the time. Mick’s bright blue eyes only added to the attraction. Now, here she was—four months later—feeling better in her marriage, but still a bit jealous at the prospect of Mick having a girlfriend. She liked it better when he was single, even if they couldn’t be together.
Realizing how childish and selfish she was being, she plastered on a smile and said, “Really? Do tell.”
“Her name is Samantha. She’s Eddie Vincent’s sister. Do you remember him?”
“Refresh my memory.”
“He was the man who lost his vision in Afghanistan. You brought him to the intervention.”
“Oh, yes, now I remember,” Jenny said.
“Our first job was to make his house a talking house so he could function better. I met his sister when we were doing the renovation, and after a couple of months of friendship, we began dating.”
With her petty jealousy fully in check, Jenny spoke sincerely. “That’s great news. I’m happy for you. She’s treating you well, I hope.”
“Very,” he said. “I have to admit, it’s strange to be back in the dating scene. I don’t really know what I’m doing, but she’s very patient with me. I think watching her brother’s struggle has helped her understand how difficult it is to resume a normal life after seeing combat.”
This woman, whoever she was, was probably better for Mick than Jenny would ever be. “I’m glad to hear that. Truly. I wish you the best.”
“Than
ks. I really appreciate it.”
Jenny let out a sigh. “Well, I guess I should get off the phone so I can call the drug testing folks and let them know they need to get out there. Don’t worry…I won’t tell anybody that you were the one who tipped me off. As far as John is concerned, he’ll always just regard this drug test as a case of unfortunate timing.”
“I appreciate that. I’d hate for him to feel like I betrayed him.”
“Well, hopefully, after all of this is said and done, he will look back at this trip to rehab as a good thing and not see it as a betrayal at all. He probably won’t be happy about it in the short term, but things that suck at the time often turn out to be the best things that ever happen to people.”
“I hope that’s true in this case.”
“I’m hoping it will be.” Jenny got off the phone with Mick and gave a quick call to the drug testing company. Their food arrived while she was talking to them, so she picked up her fork as soon as she put down her phone.
Zack spoke for the first time since the conversation with Mick. “I take it John’s fallen off the wagon.”
“It looks that way.” Jenny’s appetite had gone down after hearing the news, but she didn’t want to waste the food. She took a half-hearted bite of her salad.
“That’s a shame,” Zack declared, eagerly placing a french fry in his mouth. “Although, I’m surprised it’s taken this long.”
“What are you talking about?”
He raised his eyes to look at her. “You didn’t honestly think that he’d just be able to overcome a crack addiction without hitting any bumps in the road, did you?”
That was precisely what she had thought.
“He’s going to battle these demons his whole life,” Zack continued. “He’ll never really be out of the woods.”
But she’d helped him. She’d sent him to rehab, and fixed up his house, and sold it, and provided him with a new home with a friend to look out for him. He wasn’t supposed to relapse.
“You’re quiet,” Zack said. “You’re finding some way to blame yourself for this, aren’t you?”
She stirred her salad around with her fork. “Maybe.” After thinking about it some more, she added, “I guess I’m not really blaming myself. I’m just disappointed, that’s all.”
“Well, you should probably count on the fact that he’s going to screw up from time to time—then it will be less upsetting when it happens.” He took a big bite of his sandwich and tucked it into his cheek. “What was it your shrink said a few months ago? It’s all about expectations?”
“You’re right,” she said. “Aim low, and I’m less likely to be let down.”
“Atta girl,” he replied. “Aim low…just like you did in your marriage.” He flashed a playful grin.
She, too, managed a smile.
Once lunch was over, Zack and Jenny headed to the cash register to pay. Waiting in line for one other customer to finish settling her bill, Zack posed, “Where to now, chief? Buford Park?”
“I guess so,” she replied. “I was hoping to hear back from Detective Brennan by now. It would have been nice if Scott Sweigert confessed; then we could just go home.”
“I imagine she’d have called you by now if he confessed.”
“I may not be at the top of her list of people to call,” Jenny concluded. “I may not even be near the top.”
“Well, assuming he didn’t confess, shall we head to the park?” The people in line before them left, and Zack handed over the check and his credit card to the cashier. “If he didn’t admit to anything, it would be a good place to look…and if he did turn himself in, then we can have a nice afternoon at the park.” He looked at her and smiled.
“That’s one way to look at it, I guess,” Jenny said as she shrugged.
Once Zack signed the receipt, they headed out the door and down the steps. “Oh, that’s right,” Jenny began, “we parked out in no-man’s-land.”
“It’s probably faster if we go the opposite way of how we came in.”
“I think you’re right.”
The couple walked around the building as Jenny fished around her purse for a breath mint, mumbling to herself about being positive that she had some in there somewhere. Eventually, she heard Zack say, “Oh, shit.”
She looked up. “What’s the matter?”
Zack pointed to the car. “We have a flat tire. In fact,” he added as he walked closer, “we have four.” He circled the car, glancing up at Jenny with wide eyes. “Somebody slashed our tires.”
Chapter 6
“What?” Jenny asked. “The tires have been slashed?”
“It looks that way. All of the tires have slices in them.”
She immediately thought back to just a few hours before in the drug store parking lot, when the rearview mirror was pointed toward the roof of the car despite Zack saying he hadn’t touched it. Fear engulfed her body in a giant wave. “I think someone is trying to send us a message.”
“You think this was directed at us? You don’t think this was random, shitty luck?”
Jenny shook her head, the rest of her body nearly paralyzed with fright. She reiterated the story about the rearview mirror. “The car wasn’t locked then. I bet somebody went in there and messed with it, knowing we’d notice. And we’d certainly notice this.” She shook her head more rapidly. “No, I think somebody’s trying to tell us to back off this investigation.”
“But how would they know …oh, the Internet,” Zack interrupted himself. “Your picture with the big headline.”
“Exactly,” Jenny replied, “and the car wouldn’t be too hard to spot with Tennessee plates.”
“That’s scary,” he said. “That would mean the person followed us from the pharmacy.”
Jenny looked around the parking lot, unable to find anything or anyone who stood out. “Do you think he’s still watching us?”
“I don’t know,” Zack admitted. “One thing I do know is that I’m not letting you go anywhere alone.”
As the initial fear started to wear off, Jenny thought rationally for a moment. “This guy likes to attack women who are alone and asleep. Do you really think we’re in danger? Or do you think this guy just wants us to go home so we don’t figure out who he is?”
“I can’t say…but either way, we can’t be careless. There’s too much at stake.”
Jenny nodded as she leaned against the hood of the car, the helplessness of the moment sinking in. “Okay, so, now what?”
“Now,” Zack began as he pulled out his phone, “we call a tow truck.”
“How long will that take?”
“No idea. We’ll need a flat-bed; that might make things a little trickier.” He tapped and swiped his phone as Jenny realized this was shaping up to be a long and boring afternoon.
She scooted up onto the hood, placing her feet on the front fender. Sinking her chin into her hands, she felt a slight tingle in her chest, giving her an unfortunate reminder. “Uh oh,” she said. “I’m going to need to use my pump at some point, and it’s back at the hotel.”
Zack raised his eyes to look at her and then went back to his phone. “We’ll figure something out,” he replied. “How soon do you need it?”
“Within an hour or so.”
“I’ll make sure you have it by then.” After a few phone calls, he eventually announced, “They said they can have someone out here in forty-five minutes to an hour. I’ll call a cab to take me back to the hotel so I can get the pump.”
“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to go back to the hotel and just pump while I’m there?”
“By yourself? No. You can stay here, where you’ll be surrounded by people. I’ll just bring it to you. Is everything you need in the case?”
“Yeah, it’s all there.” Jenny smiled at him. “Thank you.”
“No problem. I may have to turn in my man card for this one, though.”
“No,” she protested, “a real man protects his wife, even if it means carrying a breast pum
p.”
Zack grumbled something inaudible, then said, “I’m just glad we’re in a different state and I won’t run into anybody I know.” He called a cab company, stating his location, and turned to Jenny once he hung up. “Why don’t we go back inside? The driver will probably pull up to the front of the diner anyway, and it’ll be safer in there with all those people around.”
She hated the idea of having to strategize in order to be safe, but she agreed to wait for the cab inside. They wordlessly walked back into the diner, where their waitress looked at them funny. “Car trouble,” Zack explained. She lost interest and went about her business.
“Something’s weird,” Jenny announced, inspired by a buzzing inside her stomach.
“What?” Zack asked.
“I don’t know. Something.”
Jenny found herself drawn into the dining section of the restaurant, her eyes landing on a middle-aged man sitting by himself in a booth. He looked harmless enough—slightly overweight with glasses and graying hair—but Jenny’s attention was definitely being brought to him.
“What is it?” Zack said quietly from behind her.
A whisper of a name echoed through Jenny’s head. “I can’t say for sure,” she began, “but I’m pretty sure we just found our mystery guy, Jason.”
“Jason…” Zack reiterated, “you mean the guy who had asked out Sonya Lee? The one she was talking to Scott Sweigert about?”
“I believe so,” Jenny remarked with a distant nod. She inconspicuously raised her finger in the middle-aged man’s direction.
Zack looked in his direction. “He’s, like…old.” There was disgust in his voice.
“Maybe that’s why Sonya said his invitation didn’t count.”
“He’s wearing a wedding ring.”
“Reason number two.” Jenny turned around and announced, “I don’t want to stare at the guy, especially if he’s the one who just slashed our tires.”
“Okay, now I don’t feel so good about leaving you here while I go back to the hotel.”
