And with that, she turned on her heel and stalked off. She climbed in her ‘vette and slammed the door. Poor Alejandro barely made it inside before she squealed out of the parking lot. I felt sort of sorry for the guy. I’m sure he got an earful.
“That was fun,” I told Harry. “Thanks!”
“Kyle told me about how much of a pain Giselle was to you. He also warned me that she’d try to move in on me. I figured I might as well let her know right away I wasn’t interested.”
He bent down and kissed me, hard and a little possessive, then gave me that look. “That was some kiss you gave me when I got here. I like that you’re such a passionate woman. Want to skip the ride and go over to the house?”
Uh oh. Now don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the kisses a lot. Too much, actually. And I’m no prude. But this was going way too fast.
“Look, Harry, I hope I didn’t give you the wrong idea or anything. I didn’t mean to send off such strong signals. I like you, I really do, but I’m, well, I’m not really that sort of girl. I’m just not ready to rush into anything.”
He hesitated a split second, but then smiled, a nice warm one. “Hey, no problem. I like you too. How about you let me know when it feels right for us to move things to the next level.”
I stood on my tiptoes and gave him a lighter, friendly kiss. “You got it.”
He reached over to the bike, a beautiful black and chrome Softail Deluxe, and handed me a helmet. “Shall we?”
I hooked my little black leather backpack over my shoulders, adjusted the helmet, and climbed on behind Harry. Having my arms wrapped around his waist made me feel tingly and for the briefest of seconds I imagined changing my mind and agreeing to go to his place. But, the little mom-faced angel on my right shoulder won out.
It was a beautiful day, cooler and less humid than our normal August steam bath weather, and I was actually looking forward to spending some time outside. We rode out to Glenvar Lake, arriving about eleven thirty. The lake is actually a small eight hundred acre reservoir about twenty miles outside of town. It’s gorgeous. The lake is surrounded by woods and lots of hiking and biking trails.
“Mark must be out riding the trails,” Harry said. “That’s his truck parked over by the shelter. He and Doug come out here a lot. They got me hooked, too. In fact, I’ve been out here almost every day since I’ve been in town. I don’t ride much since I have to stick to the easier trails because of my injury. I mostly just paddle around or hike. I love being out in nature.”
He retrieved a small canvas sack he’d strapped to the tail of the bike and led me over toward the hiking trails. We found a table under a big pine tree and ate the plain cheese sandwiches Harry had packed for us. All he had brought to drink was a single bottle of water, so we split it. After we ate, he suggested we take a walk on one of the trails that hugs the banks of the lake. While he refilled the water bottle from an ancient water fountain, I went into the rustic restroom and changed into the shorts I’d remembered to bring.
Harry stowed my backpack, his over pants, and his little bag in the weeds next to his motorcycle, then we set off. I’m not used to a lot of exercise and the trail, although Harry pronounced it flat, seemed pretty steep to me. Embarrassingly, I was huffing and puffing within about ten minutes. Okay, six.
“You all right?” he asked. He steered me over to a log bench overlooking the water and I plopped down.
“Just a little tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’ll be fine in a minute.”
I nearly told him about Sabrina’s late night visit, but as I started to open my mouth, I imagined Mom’s voice reminding me it was bad manners to talk about people when they weren’t present to defend themselves.
And, right then, speak of the devil, Mark rounded a bend, flew down a hill at a breakneck pace, and skidded to a stop beside us. Doug arrived a few seconds later, laughing and cussing out his friend. “Dude! You cut me off or I’d have whipped you on that one.”
They dropped their bikes to the ground and Harry and the two of them did some sort of complex, dumb-guy, hand shake routine.
“Y’all remember Marty? Well, I doubt you do, Marcusisus! You was hitting it hard last night.”
Once more, Harry transformed from cool, smart, thinking guy to dumb, sports bro. I sort of wished I was some sort of “ologist” who studied that sort of thing. It was pretty fascinating and would have made for a heck of a research study.
The two of them greeted me. I decided to be coldly polite to Mark, so I barely acknowledged him, but he didn’t seem to notice and smiled warmly at me.
“Sorry. Harry’s right. I was a bit out of my gourd last night. My apologies.”
Doug elbowed his friend. “Your girl probably kicked your butt when y’all got home, the way you were dousing her with beer.”
If I had been drinking anything, I’d have probably choked when he said that. It shocked me even more when Mark laughed. I wanted to punch him.
“I don’t know. She wasn’t there when I woke up this morning. Mondays, store is usually closed, but I’m guessin’ she went in anyway. She’s working on some big order or something for an online customer. I’ll make it up to her later. Take her out to dinner or something. Hopefully, she won’t be too mad.”
I could feel myself growing angrier, so I walked over by the edge of the water and sucked in a lungful of air. I’d never imagined myself in a situation like this and I had no idea how to handle it. I decided this was one of those times when I needed to channel Mom. Since she’s a reporter, I figured she’d probably investigate, gather a bunch of facts, and write a story ripping the guy to shreds.
Other than having seen Sabrina’s face and hearing her version of the story, I realized I really didn’t have any facts. At least not yet. I weighed my options and concluded that, like it or not, until I had some proof, the wisest course of action was to just keep my mouth shut and hope that Sabrina came to her senses and pressed charges.
“I’ll admit it,” Mark was saying when I tuned back into their conversation. “I had a wicked hangover this morning. Thing is, I didn’t think I drank all that much.”
Doug crouched in the dirt beside his bicycle, messing with the chain. “Yup. You downed almost a whole pitcher by yourself. Well, not counting what you spilled. Plus that shot of ‘shine Tess gave you in the car on the way over from the field. That stuff must have been potent. I’m surprised you’re able to tackle the hills today.”
“How long y’all been riding?” Harry asked.
Doug checked his watch. “Since about eight. We’re done. Gonna grab some lunch and head over to the park.”
“I got to get a treatment, then get yelled at,” Mark said.
They all laughed. I didn’t really get it, so figured it was an inside joke.
Doug picked up his bike. “You two should have come out dancing with me and the Debbies. We had a righteous time. Closed down that place over in Roanoke. Those gals sure like to party. Especially Tessa. Than girl can put it away to be so skinny.”
“You know me,” Harry said. “I’m not much on hanging with the party gals. Marty and I had a nice, quiet time getting to know each other.”
Doug ogled me and winked at Harry. “Can’t say I blame you there, bro.”
I tried to hide my annoyance and disgust. I hate when guys make snide comments about a girl in her presence as if she’s too stupid to understand.
It seemed to annoy Harry too. A look crossed his face, but he didn’t say anything. Surprisingly, it was Mark Donavan who spoke up.
“Dude,” he said, “have a little class. She’s standing right here.”
Doug snickered and shook his head. “Man, you turdballs are going and getting all domesticated on me.”
After that, the three of them did a rerun of the complicated, dumb-bro handshake, and the other two wheeled their bikes over to the truck.
“You okay?” Harry asked after they left. “You were awfully quiet around those guys.”
Again, I cont
emplated telling him about Sabrina’s accusations against Mark, but, once more, decided not to. No use in ruining what had been a pleasant day. Well, what might eventually turn out to be one.
I plastered on a fake smile. “No, really, I’m great. Sometimes when I’m tired I get like that. I hope I wasn’t rude or anything.”
“No, of course you weren’t rude. You were sweet and cute. Just a little quiet. I’m sorry you’re feeling so tired. You want me to take you home?”
“No, no. Of course not. I’m fine. Great, actually,” I lied. “I’m getting my second wind now.”
“Well, if you’re sure. How about we rent the kayaks and paddle around awhile?” Harry said. “We can get in a good hour before I have to be at the ball field.”
I’d only ever been in a kayak once, and that had been with Tim the previous fall. We had tried a tandem boat. It had been awkward and the two of us had never managed to get our rhythm down, which meant that we’d pretty much argued the whole time. It had not been what I’d describe as “fun”. But, I didn’t want Harry to think that I was a wimp or a whiner or one of those girls, so I agreed.
The park caretaker, a grizzled, wiry guy who looked to be about seventy or so, helped Harry pull the boats into the water. It took a bit of effort, but they managed to get me settled in a snazzy little orange and yellow kayak. Harry showed me how to use the paddle and I took off. It was much easier steering the boat alone, so, at first, I actually almost enjoyed it. After thirty or so minutes of paddling, trying to keep up with Harry, I felt like my arms were going to fall off. After forty-five, I was nearly in tears. By the end of the hour, when we finally made it back to the bank, every muscle in my body hurt.
About the only good thing about the ride back to the station was wrapping my arms around Harry’s waist and snuggling up tight against him. Unfortunately, it also hurt like the dickens, especially in my ribcage. I was determined, however, not to let him see how much pain I was in.
“That was a blast,” I said, wincing, as I reached up and pulled the helmet off. Normally when I lie I twist my hair around my fingers, but I didn’t have the strength to do it.
“I know, right? I love it out there. I’m thinking about getting a boat myself. If I lived here, I’d do it in a heart-beat. Hey, I’ve got an idea. We have an early game Friday for that kid’s thing and we’re off Saturday. What if we head out here? We can hike, paddle around a bit. We’ll take my jeep and haul up the mountain bikes. I’ve got one that you’ll fit on just perfect. We can stick to the flat trails and cruise around a bit. What do you think?”
Okay, so I really, really wanted to say no. I’m not a girly-girl, but I’m also most decidedly not an “outdoorsy” kind of gal, and I had hated both the hiking and kayaking. Not to mention that the last time I’d been on a bike, I’d wrecked into a parked car while trying to pedal up a hill. But, I also wanted to spend as much time with Harry as I could. So, of course, against my better judgment, I conjured up that fake smile and went along with his plans.
“Sure. Sounds awesome.” That time I actually imagined twisting a couple of strands.
He walked me to my car, a faded red, ’69 Mustang. “Nice ride.”
I unlocked the car door, stashing my back pack inside. When I turned back around, Harry was watching me intently, giving me one of those amazing looks.
“I’m not pitching tonight, but why don’t you come to the game? I’ll leave you a couple of tickets. You know, like yesterday. After that we can grab a bite to eat and spend some more time getting to know each other.”
Once again, I wanted to say no. I was completely worn out. But how could I resist? He was flat-out adorable. “That would be really awesome, Harry. I can’t wait!” Once again, no hair was twisted, but my fingers itched.
He gave me a nice kiss goodbye and roared off, headed toward the ballpark. I shuffled inside to see if things were back on track. The afternoon drive jock told me they’d finally got back on the air around one. I chatted him up a bit, then, in a minor miracle, managed to get back out without running into Herb.
I yelped as I burned my hands on the steering wheel, which must have been a million degrees from sitting in the hot sun all day. The worst part was that my arms and legs had tightened up to the point where the mere thought of actually having to push in the clutch and shift caused me to contemplate calling Tim to see if he’d come drive me home. I wanted to, but I didn’t. Mainly because he was still recovering from surgery he’d had to undergo to remove a bullet from his arm. It had been a few weeks, but he hadn’t been cleared to drive yet. Plus, he’d gone back to work on a “light duty” basis and wasn’t working his normal shift. They had him at the police station helping out with paperwork and he wouldn’t get off for another half-hour.
“I wonder how much it costs to hire a personal assistant?” I asked myself.
Since I didn’t have a clue, I didn’t bother answering back. But I was definitely planning to raise the subject with Alejandro. Maybe he had a friend willing to work for used t-shirts, peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, and the opportunity to pet a slightly cranky cat.
7
When I finally made it home, around four-thirty, I eased out of the car, hobbled over to the stairs, and made a torturous climb to my building’s first floor landing. I was really grateful that I didn’t live on the third floor. If so, I would have had to have hired Alejandro to piggy back me up the steps. If, that is, he could have lifted me. He was a pretty small guy, so maybe not.
When I rounded the corner and saw that the door to my apartment was open about five inches, I first got mad. “What the heck?”
I’d told Sabrina to lock the freakin’ door! Then, I panicked. What if Delbert had gotten out and ran off? Or gotten hurt? I’d never, ever forgive her – or myself – if anything happened to him.
Thankfully, I heard him when I pushed the door the rest of the way open. Somehow, he’d managed to get himself locked in the bedroom and was meowing pitifully. I rushed back and rescued him, hugging him tight against me. He squirmed and squealed, and tried to give me a swat, but I loved on him anyway. “That’s my good, big Kitty Man!” I put him back down and headed toward the kitchen to get him a treat.
That’s when I saw her, in the kitchen floor, wedged between my little oak dining table and the wall. She was just lying there like a rag-doll, in a semi-fetal position. She still wore the shorts and t-shirt I’d loaned her. Her mouth was open and so were her eyes.
“Sabrina! Are you okay?” I don’t really know why I said it. Disbelief, I suspect.
Of course she didn’t answer. Of course she wasn’t okay. She was already stiff and cold and obviously had been dead for awhile. I must have screamed, because within minutes, Rowena came running. When she saw Sabrina, she screamed, too, and, for some reason, that snapped me to my senses.
I stopped freaking out and realized I needed to call 911. Digging into my backpack in a frantic attempt to locate my cell was a lost cause. Instead, I dumped the bag upside down on the counter. When the dispatcher answered, I told her that there was a dead woman on my apartment floor and gave the address. I think I told her my name, but I’m not sure. Which is probably why, when he heard the call come over the radio, Tim thought I was the person who was dead. And why my mom, who heard the call come over the newspaper’s scanner, also thought I was the victim.
Tim had been on his way home, hitching a ride in a patrol car with one of his buddies, and they were the first to arrive. They were quickly followed by several more police cars, a fire truck, and the rescue squad crew. When Tim scrambled up the stairs and saw me standing outside the door, holding Rowena’s arm, he yanked me up into his arms and hugged me so hard I thought I would break. I’d never, ever seen him like that. Tears streamed down his face and he was so pale that the smattering of freckles across his nose stood out in high relief.
“Thank God. Thank God.” He kept stroking my hair and repeating it over and over again, as the other folks who’d been sent to the scene burst
into my apartment and went to work.
Tim finally managed to calm down. He gave me a peck on the forehead, then the cheek, then the lips. It was a little weird, to be honest. We aren’t usually very lovey-dovey with each other. Once he put me down, he hugged me once more, kissed me again, and then went to peek inside my apartment to volunteer his services.
Right after calling the police, I’d swept everything off the counter into my pack, loaded Delbert into his carrier, and gone to Rowena’s. When I’d let him out, Delbert immediately scampered into her bedroom and hid. After Tim went inside my place, Rowena and I went to her apartment to check on Delbert. He met us in the living room, walked clear around me, and rubbed against Rowena’s leg. She sat on her floral chintz-covered sofa and he hopped into her lap, letting her scratch his tummy. I was a bit hurt when he ignored me, but figured he was just playing her a little since she’d lured him out from under her bed earlier with a bit of fresh salmon.
Both of them seemed to be content, so I went back outside and parked myself on the front steps, trying to make sense of the situation. Instead, all I kept doing was replaying going into the kitchen and finding Sabrina, curled up on my floor, staring, but not seeing.
A few minutes later Tim rejoined me. “You okay?”
“Not really. Do they know what happened? Did she fall?” It was a dumb question. I knew what he was going to say before he said it. But for a split second, I hoped against hope that it had been some sort of bizarre accident.
“No. Her neck was broken. Not by accident.”
“Are they sure?”
“Homicide is on the way. Winger, of course,” he said, referring to the detective I’d recently dealt with. The detective who had been convinced, only a few weeks before, that I was guilty of murdering Charli’s neighbor.
“I can’t believe this. Why is it that every time I turn around, I’m getting involved in a murder investigation?”
Tim patted me on top of the head. “I don’t know, babe. I’m beginning to think that maybe you are cursed.”
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