James Ross - A Character-Based Collection (Prairie Winds Golf Course)

by James Ross

  “We’ve done a lot with Richie and Becca: dinners, card games, trips, vacations. I’m sure he doesn’t want that to end.”

  “Yeah, but since all of this divorce stuff started he’s been persistent about seeing me. I told him that you and I are not available to do things. He wants to meet for drinks. He wants to go dancing. He wants us to join them for dinner.” The frustration was evident. “He won’t stop calling. Now is not the time to get together and act like old times.”

  “Everything changes, doesn’t it, Woobie?”

  “Including our relationship with Richie and Becca. It’s over and he doesn’t get it.”

  The pain medicine was making Tyler Cy drowsy. His eyelids were heavy. The last thing that he wanted to keep harping on was an evolving relationship Shari was involved in. He had his own problems: a twenty-four year old relationship that was ending, rehab of a severely injured knee, and a golf course development that was dragging along. “We can change our number or see if we can block his calls.”

  “I don’t want to do that. Too many people know our number. He’s bothering me too much. I see his car when I’m out. He’s following me. It’s like he has turned into a stalker.”

  “It all will work out.” Tyler Cy could barely move his head. “Can you bring me some more of that uneven ice?”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Raul was having his own relationship difficulties. It was tough enough for him to eke out a living and keep his family in suburbia. Juggling women was something that he had always managed in the past; however, living under the same roof with one of them put a crimp in his style.

  Whatever he had been doing did not go unnoticed by Tindra. She felt some alienation. No matter what he did to perk up her mood it seemed like every good deed was met with consequences that backfired. A bouquet of flowers indicated guilt. An evening with the kids did not provide enough attention. A meal out meant that fast food wasn’t as nice as a seven course dinner. Her minivan needed to be serviced, or better yet, replaced.

  The arguing had gotten so bad that the pair stayed in different rooms and yelled through the doorway. At least that was the case one night after the kids had gone to bed. Raul wondered how it all could have happened. Once he was in her lap with a foul ball and their eyes were fixed on one another. Then after two kids Tindra changed. Her mood was sour, her disposition skeptical. He couldn’t do anything right. Of course, his philandering added to her mistrust.

  But the doorway didn’t provide enough distance. He got a text message alert. The sound was loud enough for Tindra to hear. She snuck to the edge of the opening and observed.

  What did u decide? R u gonna kill her?

  Raul looked to see if he had privacy. As far as he could tell he was alone. However he decided not to take a chance. He got up from the couch and walked down the hall and into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

  I’m not doing anything

  He prepared himself for an irate response.

  The bitch is evil

  Rotten

  Doesn’t deserve to live

  Raul winced at the thought and wondered how he had gotten himself in the middle of this mess.

  Ur on your own. I’m out of it

  He knew that reply was not going to be popular.

  She needs to be beaten, raped and cut into pieces

  The suggestion was making Raul ill. He wanted no part of whatever was to take place.

  I’m done with this

  He vowed to not reply to any more of the messages.

  I knew u were a wussie

  Raul ignored the comment. He looked into the mirror and brushed a hand through his hair. He opened the door.

  “What were you doing?” Tindra surprised him. She was standing outside the door.

  “Going to the bathroom.”

  Tindra barged into the bathroom and looked into the toilet. “I didn’t hear it flush. There’s nothing in the bowl. Raul did not have a response. “I heard you texting.” Her jealousy was getting scary. “Give me your phone.”

  Raul protested, “I’m not doing anything.” But he was caught red-handed and turned over his mobile phone.

  “Who were you texting?” Raul remained quiet. Tindra viewed the recent texts. “Who is this person?”

  Raul shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t give me that skitsnack, Raul!” Tindra was livid. “What are you involved in?”

  Raul looked down at the floor. “Nothing,” he mumbled weakly.

  “What do you mean ‘nothing’?” Tindra pressed. “Someone wants somebody killed!”

  Raul looked up. He looked at the beautiful mother of his two children. Her angelic face was showing the stress of his behavior. “We need to talk.”

  “I would guess so!”

  Raul headed down the hallway to the kitchen and grabbed a seat at the table. Tindra wasn’t far behind.

  “I don’t know where to start,” Raul confessed.

  “Try the beginning.”

  “I thought it was a joke or wrong number at first.”

  “When did it start?”

  “A few months ago. It was late at night. I got a text and played along,” Raul admitted, “but they kept coming.”

  “Who is sending them?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t give me that.”

  Raul looked down at the table. It was obvious that his charm wasn’t going to buy him leniency. He decided not to press his luck. “I think it is Mrs. Daniels-Donnelly.”

  “What do you mean ‘you think’? Who is this person?”

  “She’s a member at Olde Blueblood.” He paused then came clean. “Or at least she was a member.”

  “And how do you know her?”

  “From waiting tables. She always ate lunch there and played in the bridge club.”

  Tindra flew into a rage. “I knew it! You have been seeing someone else!”

  “No, no, no. It’s not what you think,” Raul stammered trying to become an innocent victim. “She was just a member’s wife that…”

  “Took a liking to you,” Tindra finished. “I know all about how those things happen.” She got up and reached for a knife. “I’m done with your skitsnack!”

  Raul intercepted her. There was a brief power struggle. “Calm down.” He physically placed her back into the chair and took the knife out of her hand.

  “You tell me what’s going on! I want the truth now!”

  “No more knives.” Raul got the entire set and placed it on his lap. “These are leaving the house.”

  Tindra realized that throwing her temper around was not going to get the results she wanted. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Mrs. Daniels-Donnelly hurt her back. She needed some therapy.”

  “And you treated her the same way you treated me.”

  Raul flashed his gorgeous Latino smile. “It’s part of my business, Bombon.” He reached over and grabbed her hand. “She was a paying customer.”

  “And couldn’t resist your charm.” Tindra was quick to forgive. She loved her guy.

  “I can’t help that she fell for me. She’s getting a divorce and needed somebody to talk to.”

  Tindra’s emotions changed on one word. “So much so that she wants me killed.” She started crying.

  “I didn’t know what she was talking about at first so I played along. Now it’s gotten so that she’s obsessed with it. I’m stopping it.” Raul brushed back Tindra’s hair and kissed her cheek. “Besides, she has a boyfriend.”

  “I thought you said she was married.”

  “She is, but she’s getting out of it.”

  “Then how come she has a boyfriend?”

  “I guess her husband wasn’t giving her enough attention.”

  “Are you sleeping with her?”

  “Bombon, of course not.” Lie number one was delivered. Raul looked Tindra in the eye and used persuasive words to assure her before giving her a peck on the lips. “I love you.” Lie number two
followed close behind.

  “Will you quit seeing her?”

  “Of course.” The first two lies went over well. It was time to deliver the third.

  “She’s threatened to kill me.” Tindra sobered quickly. “I think we need to tell the police.”

  “Let’s see if she stops. I told her that I wanted no part of what she’s talking about.” Raul petted Tindra’s hand.

  “If it happens again, I’m calling the police.”

  “It won’t.” Raul got up and took the set of knives to the back door. “I’m hiding these from you.” He walked outside and was gone for a few minutes. Tindra was doing the dishes upon his return. “Is all forgiven, Bombon?”

  Tindra wrapped her arms around Raul’s waist. “I suppose so.”

  An alert signaled that another text message had been received. Raul froze.

  “Give it to me!”

  Raul grabbed his phone and looked at the screen. It read:

  She’s history 2 make room for u and me

  Tindra yanked it out of his hand and read the text. “No, she’s history. I’m going to the police.” Raul went to the door, opened it and took a step. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Knife or no knife I’m afraid I might not wake up with a pene.”

  “If you leave, don’t expect to come back.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The offices of Congresswoman Lisa Boudreau were located in a mid-rise building in Brentwood, a suburb of St. Louis and a few minutes south of Leslie Potter’s Clayton office. Shari had mixed feelings as she parked her Jag, rode the elevator, and walked down the third floor hallway to Lisa’s hometown office. One side of her thought process encouraged her to get something productive to do and meet new people while the other side wanted to shop, go to lunch, and satisfy the hot spot in her panties.

  Inside, everything seemed so modest. The wall color was a pale green. The carpeting was extremely worn and needed an upgrade from the landlord. The smell in the hallway was stale. The lighting was weak.

  Shari arrived at Lisa’s office and entered. Her first impression of the interior matched what she experienced earlier in the building. A cheap, portable receptionist desk appeared to roll to a convenient spot on the linoleum floor depending on the day. A few staffers sat at a folded out library table. Two more aides occupied open cubicles with built-in L-shaped desks. A greeter/receptionist approached Shari and identified herself as Mona. An awkward moment followed as the hired help continued their tasks while they extended a lukewarm welcome.

  First impressions stick and Shari wasn’t overly fond of what she had seen up to this point. There was no place comfortable to sit so she asked for a cup of coffee and was directed to a makeshift kitchen area to pour her own. Conveniently there was stack of Styrofoam cups next to a box of swizzle and a used spoon sitting on a coffee-stained napkin.

  Congresswoman Boudreau’s schedule must have been tight. Once she received word that Shari had arrived she stepped out of her office. Shari had just finished her first sip. “Hi, Shari.” A hand was extended. “I’m Lisa Boudreau. Come on in.”

  It was weird and so fake. The wooden six panel door didn’t fit on the moveable wall. The banner that read CONGRESSWOMAN LISA BOUDREAU appeared out of place above it. Plush carpeting with a deluxe pad stretched from wall to wall. Wood paneling covered the walls. Six inch crown molding was fitted between the walls and drop-down ceiling. Cheap award plaques, letters of commendation, certifications, and staged pictures decorated the walls. An American flag hung from a pole in the corner. Two chairs that appeared as if they were stolen from a Victorian movie set were in front of Lisa’s desk with a coffee table between them.

  It was all so out-of-place. It looked like someone with a limited budget tried to funnel all of the funds into Lisa’s designated office area. But the taste was awful. Shari had seen it often in some of the homes that Tyler Cy had listed. Home owners would live in a modest neighborhood and try to increase home value by upgrading the interior of the home with expensive fixtures only to learn later that they would not recoup their expense. Tacky. That was the word that stuck in Shari’s mind.

  Lisa Boudreau’s best years were behind her as well. Porcelain fittings—or maybe they were dentures—occupied the upper teeth. At least one face job had tightened the skin down to the neckline of her blouse. A dark tint hid the gray in her hair. Colored contact lenses magnified the blue hue in somewhat crazy-looking eyes. Rhinoplasty made that feature smaller on her face. It was all meant to work together, but what most struck Shari was the smile—one that was put-on like a flip of the switch. They had never met, but Lisa was excited to meet her. It was a crock of crap and Shari noticed it immediately.

  “Pardon the mess,” Lisa started, “I’m in for two days then it’s back to Washington.”

  Shari dug into her purse and then put a cigarette in her mouth. “Mind if I smoke?”

  “It’ against the ordinance, but you’re with me. We can do what we want.” The pair laughed. They went on to gab about whatever ladies find interesting as Shari puffed away. They searched for common ground. Lisa was older than Shari by a dozen years. Her politics and causes were opposite. She was married with grown children. Shari wanted to be unmarried. Both had money and wealth.

  The topic changed to the purpose of the meeting. Lisa didn’t waste much time. “I want to thank Leslie for making this meeting possible,” Lisa started. “My situation is unique in that when I’m back in town I have a public life and a private life. Many of my friends have raised families and have other responsibilities. They can’t be available socially. Essentially we’ve grown apart. Leslie thought that you and I might be a compatible pair.”

  Is this broad hitting on me? Shari’s reaction was a tad surprised. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s as if I lead a double life. I have social affairs that I can attend with my husband, but there are times when I want to go out,” Lisa said before stopping to search for words, “incognito so to speak.”

  Shari nodded.

  “Once in a while I’d like to go out under the radar.”

  “In a disguise?”

  “Not really that. I just want to go out as a private citizen where no one will recognize me.” Lisa stood up and directed Shari’s eyes to her business suit, heels and perfectly coiffed hair. “Look at this nonsense. Do you know what I’d do to put on a pair of jeans or a sweat suit and a ball cap?” She shrugged with disgust. “I don’t want to put on this public persona all the time.”

  “Sure…I can help with that,” Shari stammered. She was caught off guard and really didn’t know what to say. She certainly wasn’t going to turn down an opportunity to rub noses with the politically connected. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Maybe a lunch here and there. A concert sometime. Shopping at the mall away from all of the security,” Lisa suggested. “Money isn’t a problem. I can pay for anything. I need a social connection.”

  “You’re talking to the right gal for that!”

  “That’s the same thing that Leslie thought,” Lisa said with a smile. “That’s why we’re here today.”

  “Is that it?”

  “Yeah, for now. We can exchange cell numbers. I’ll give you advance notice of what I want to do; where and what time. Things like that.”

  “Sure.” For one of the first times in her life Shari didn’t have a lot to say.

  “But before you go there is one other thing I’d like to know if you can help with.”

  Shari was no dummy even though she often acted like one. Now is the time for the real purpose of the meeting. “What is that?”

  “You’re a member at Olde Blueblood, right?”

  “I was. Leslie didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “My ex-to-be yanked our membership a few weeks ago.”

  Lisa waved her hands as if to blow off the very thought. “I’m not concerned about that. I have an open invitation to every club in town. I can get y
ou in.”

  “For golf?”

  “Well, maybe not that, but for the social events. I may need you to make some introductions for me. A lot of the members there aren’t my constituents, but I’m still going to have to rub elbows with them.”

  “You need a favor, right?”

  Lisa smiled. “You get it.” She got up. “You never know when, but I may need a connection.”

  “I know everyone at Olde Blueblood.”

  “That was what Leslie said.”

  “I may need a favor too.”

  “I’m a politician and learned long ago that if you want something you have to give something in return.” Lisa smiled broadly. “We might get along better than Leslie imagined.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Shari beamed when she walked out of Lisa’s office. And the next task was going to keep the smile on her face for the rest of the day. She was headed to Cosmo Lofts for a rendezvous with Raul.

  “What is so urgent?” she asked as soon as the door closed. He had called her earlier in the day.

  “I have to stay here for a while.”

  “What happened?”

  “I’m afraid Tindra is going to cut off my pene.”

  “No. No. No! We can’t have that to happen.” Shari grinned and then kissed him on the cheek.

  “We got in another fight and I hid all of the knives.” Raul was exasperated. “I’m afraid of what she might do once I fall asleep.”

  “What did you get in a fight about?” Raul was cautious with his answer, and his hesitancy threw up a red flag. “Did she find out about me?”

  Raul wasn’t about to give himself up. “No.” He had found the cougar that could take care of him and didn’t want to spoil the real fun before it went to the next level. “But she’s so insecure she suspects that I’ve slept with everyone in town.”

  “Well, you almost have, haven’t you?” Shari giggled.

  “Bombon,” Raul cooed, “the answer is no.”

  “I thought practice made perfect. You know that I can take care of you.” She reached into her purse and retrieved $15,000 bundled in three packets of hundred dollar bills. “My lawyer is good. I got part of my pre-divorce settlement. Pay for a year’s rent in advance. If you need to stay here then you are welcome.” Shari blew a warm breath into his ear. Her heartbeat went up a notch. He let her hands roam across his chest. Just as quickly as the passion started Shari backed off and abruptly changed topics. “Hey! I seen where Basilio hit a home run in the bottom of the ninth and won the game for the Cardinals last night.”