Ninja Soccer Moms

by Jennifer Apodaca

  Blaine looked up from the ranch dressing he was dipping his French fries in. “Oh, yeah, Sam loves wine tasting. Don’t tell me she’s playing hard to get?”

  “Blaine, you know I already have a boyfriend.” My voice sounded reasonable, but visions of the pepper spray on my key ring danced in my head. I could feel my finger depressing the nozzle and zapping Blaine.

  Lionel whipped his head around to look at me, his soft face spilling into surprise. “What kind of boyfriend?”

  “Uh—” After Gabe’s stunt this morning of ordering me off Janie’s case, our relationship was a little murky. But I was kind of desperate here. I lifted my chin and announced, “A detective.”

  A focused intelligence solidified in his gaze. “Police detective?”

  This wasn’t going as well as I hoped. “Private.”

  “Ah.”

  I closed the distance between us and glared up into Lionel’s brown-bear eyes. “What exactly does that mean?”

  Lionel smiled. “That’s how I found out about you—the newspapers. You’re always in danger. But you won’t need a PI to protect you. I’ll do it.” He used his big hand to thump his chest. Then he turned around and left.

  I stared after him while Blaine burst out laughing.

  Putting my hands on my jean-clad hips, I said, “You think that’s funny? Have I ever sicced a client on you? Don’t think I won’t!” I turned to stomp away into my office, when I remembered Roxy. Turning back, I tried to look like an intimidating boss. “I need that file on Roxy’s date.”

  Blaine held out a few sheets of paper. “I printed it from the electronic file. You could pull it up yourself on the computer. Nice shiner on your forehead.”

  Setting the clipboard down on Blaine’s desk, I touched the mushy lump. “It shows, huh?”

  “Right through your frizzy bangs.” He jiggled the papers in his hand.

  I took them and huffed off toward my office.

  “Boss, what about the security check? Want me to fax this to Gabe?”

  Gabe did routine background checks on all our new clients. That was how I met him. I’d hired him right out of the Yellow Pages. Right now I was in the mood to smack him with said Yellow Pages. Stalking back to Blaine’s desk, I held out my free hand. “Give it to me.”

  Blaine took the security release form out from under the interview/info sheet on the clipboard and handed it to me.

  I took the security sheet and went into my office. Settling into my desk, I leafed through the pages of Roxy’s date. I summoned up Kevin in my head. Nice guy, young and brash—frankly, I couldn’t see him doing what her last date had.

  I picked up the phone and dialed Roxy’s number at the home she shared with her uncle. No one answered. Cutting the connection, I looked at Kevin’s file and dialed his phone number. Maybe he could tell me something. Getting the answering machine, I left a brief message telling him that I was doing a follow-up review of his date with Roxanne Gabor. “At Heart Mates, we periodically check with our clients to make sure we are providing the quality of matches to make our clients happy. I’d really like to hear back from you, Kevin.” I hung up.

  Now what? Looking under Kevin’s file, I found Roxy’s. Flipping through it, I found her cell phone number and dialed. When she answered, she was out of breath and whispery. “Hello?”

  It sounded like I’d caught her in the middle of a rousing round of sex. “Uh, Roxy? It’s Sam. Blaine said you called.”

  “Sam. Uh, I’m looking for something right now. I have to go.”

  “Wait! Roxy, at least tell me how your date went last night.” Hmm. Kevin hadn’t answered his phone—maybe they were together right now. But then why would she have called Blaine crying?

  Her breath caught. “Why did he do it? Why?”

  “Roxy?” My hand tightened on the handset of the phone. She wasn’t crying now. She sounded desperate. “You mean Kevin? Look Roxy, whatever has happened we can fix it, okay? Where are you? I’ll come to you.” A crying Roxy I understood. This almost robotic, whispery, distracted Roxy scared me.

  Silence, then, “Can’t talk now.”

  “Don’t hang up!” I yelled in frustration.

  I heard her sniffle. Then she said, “Meet me at the nursery. I’m almost done here.” She hung up.

  I set the phone down. Something weird was going on with Roxy. But meeting her at her uncle’s nursery made me feel better. Roxy loved plants and flowers. She had worked at Duncan’s Nursery just up the street from Heart Mates since she came to live with her uncle. I really liked and admired Roxy. I wanted to help her find someone to love.

  I dug my purse out of my desk and went out to the reception area. Before I could say anything to Blaine, the front door opened.

  Grandpa and Ali came in.

  “Grandpa, what are you doing here? Are the boys okay?”

  Ali strolled up to me for a quick hello, which meant I was allowed to pet her for about five seconds. Then she jumped up to put her front paws on the edge of Blaine’s desk to stare at him.

  He stared back.

  Ali barked.

  Blaine opened his desk drawer and pulled out a box of animal crackers that he kept especially for her. He tossed her one at a time.

  My dog had her people well trained.

  Grandpa laughed, then turned to me. “I forgot I had the exterminators coming, Sam. Remember the ants? And tomorrow night is that party you are doing for Angel.”

  “The lingerie party!” I hadn’t forgotten, exactly. My best friend was starting a new career in mail-order lingerie. I was hosting her premiere party.

  “I have story hour at the library. I don’t want to leave Ali home while the house is being sprayed. Is it okay if she stays here with you? I’ll pick her up when story hour is over.”

  Grandpa was a favorite of the town children. He did magic tricks and made balloon animals when he read stories. I wasn’t sure who loved it more, Grandpa or the children. “Sure, Grandpa. Ali can go with me over to Duncan’s Nursery to talk to Roxy.” Ali was never a problem.

  Grandpa went past Ali, still perched with her paws on Blaine’s desk, to the TV tray with coffee. He poured himself half a cup and said, “What’s up with Roxy, Sam?”

  “Dating disaster.”

  He shook his head. “Duncan just adored that girl from the second he brought her back to Elsinore. She’s his only family since his sister died. Roxy’s the best thing that ever happened to Duncan.”

  I smiled. Roxy had it tough with no dad and her mom dying, but having someone love her so much healed the deep wounds, or at least helped her cope with the wounds. “Maybe that’s it, Grandpa. Maybe no man can live up to Duncan for Roxy. I sure don’t know any man who could ever live up to you.”

  “Sure, Sammy, you really lowered your standards with Gabe.” He kissed me as he walked past. “Gotta go. Those kids don’t like to be kept waiting.” He carried his coffee out the door.

  “Grandpa, you be careful driving with that coffee.”

  In the doorway he turned back and grinned. “I’m a magician. I can make it disappear.” Then he drank it all and held out the empty cup.

  I went to get the Styrofoam cup. “You’re a riot, Grandpa,” I said as I watched him walk across the wet pavement to his black jeep.

  I went to the folding chairs and picked up my coat.

  “Boss, Ali can stay here,” Blaine said.

  Ali got down from the desk and went to the door.

  I looked at Blaine and shrugged. “She likes to go in the car. She can come with me.”

  He waved us off. “I’m entering Lionel’s information in the computer. Can’t do more than that until Gabe clears the security check. See ya.”

  Gabe. Ouch, that was a sore spot. “Right, I have the form in my purse. I’ll get it to him soon.” Ali and I left.

  In the T-bird, Ali sat up on the red passenger seat, with her head hanging out the opened window. She loved it in the summer when I took the hardtop off and we zoomed around town to
pless. But on a rainy January day, Ali made do with the opened window.

  Heading right on Mission Trail, we made it to Duncan’s Nursery in a few minutes. I made a left into the dirt parking lot, shut off the car, grabbed my purse, and got out. Ali jumped out after me. I figured enough time had passed that Roxy would be here by now, but I didn’t see her black Jaguar.

  Ali dropped her nose to the muddy parking lot and sniffed around. Her ears twitched. So many scents. Wagging her long tail, she got busy chasing down the smells.

  I spotted Duncan Baird. He was a slim rectangular man who looked like he should be out on the range breaking ponies. Right now, he was lifting heavy bags of manure into the back of a Toyota pickup with the easy grace of a man who lived his life outdoors in the sun.

  I leaned against the side of the car and watched Ali. She raced back and forth across the parking lot, and then she spotted a few birds that had ventured out now that the rain had stopped. She barked and chased them into a row of trees lined up in ten-gallon cans. Water dropped from the leaves onto her nose. She stopped and sneezed, then shook her head.

  I laughed at her. She was having a blast. God, I loved that dog. She was so well behaved that we hardly even thought to take a leash with us anywhere. Now Ali was sniffing along the edge, between the parking lot and the plants. Long railroad ties marked it off. Ali wandered up toward the trailer office when she froze.

  Uh-oh. I pushed off the car and started toward her. I’d seen that intent look before. It usually meant she found something important. Maybe a hurt kitten or a nest of baby birds. Or a snake . . . Wait, it was the wrong time of year for snakes. I felt one of my boots sink in the mud and stopped. These were suede boots, not meant for mud walking.

  “Sam, what can I do for you today?”

  I jumped and turned to look into Duncan’s craggy face. “How are you, Duncan?”

  His peeling lips twitched in a smile as he looked down to my boots. “Can’t complain. We needed the rain. And my boots are waterproof.”

  “Waterproof never crossed my mind when I shopped for these.” I lifted a foot to show him my black suede boots. We both looked down to see the brown ooze staining the delicate suede. Damn. Setting my foot down, I said, “Is Roxy here yet? She told me to meet her here.”

  “Roxy? No I haven’t seen her. But I need her to call back that computer guy. Can’t make heads or tails of what he’s saying.”

  “She’s probably on her way. What’s wrong with your computer?” Roxy had dragged Duncan into the computer age. She worked with some computer techie to get everything at the nursery computerized. Duncan had enough basic knowledge to work the system, but he turned glitches and problems over to his niece. I could relate to that. Computers and I don’t exactly communicate.

  “Can’t get the customer receipts to print—” His gaze slipped past me. “Hey! Get out of there!”

  I whirled around in time to see Ali jump up on one of the three plastic trash cans set out by the trailer office. “Ali!”

  The trash can went over, and the lid popped off. Ali barked and started digging through the rubble.

  I forgot about my boots and ran across the mud, anchoring my purse underneath my right arm. “Ali, no!”

  She ignored me, digging through plastic bags, newspapers, dead leaves, and other assorted junk. I got to her, slid to a stop and grabbed Ali’s black collar with silver studs. “Ali!”

  At eighty pounds of pure muscle, my one hundred and twenty-nine-and-a-half pounds of not enough exercise barely caught her notice. She kept digging and barking.

  “Get that dog out of here!” Duncan roared from behind me.

  I had both hands on her collar. “I’ve never seen her like this! I don’t know what’s gotten into her!” I yanked hard on her collar. My purse slipped down my arm, but I focused on my dog. “Ali, come—ugh!” My feet slid out from under me and I landed on my butt.

  In a pile of trash. Slimy, wet trash.

  Duncan closed one big hand around Ali’s collar and pulled her back.

  She growled.

  Getting on my knees, I turned around to face my dog. “No, Ali!” I couldn’t believe she would bite Duncan, but I didn’t want to chance it. She wasn’t looking at Duncan, though. Her long nose and intelligent eyes focused on that trash can.

  Weird. While Duncan held her collar, I got up, grabbed my purse off the ground, and slung it over my shoulder, then piled the trash back into the can.

  She didn’t like that, alternating between whining and barking. I put the lid back on the can and did the only thing I could think of—dragged it into the trailer office, then shut the door.

  I went back out to my dog. Getting down on one knee, I took her face in my hand. “What has gotten into you?”

  Duncan let go of her collar. “Get that dog out of here.”

  I looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Duncan. But you know Ali, she’s never done anything like this before.” I thought he was overreacting.

  “I don’t have time to take care of your dog, Sam. Roxy’s not here, and I have work to do.”

  I knew an invitation to leave when I heard one. Besides, I was worried about Ali. She never acted that way without a reason. I stood up. “Look, Duncan, I’m concerned about Roxy. She’s acting awfully emotional, even for her. Have her call me when she gets here. Please.” I took Ali’s collar and went to the car.

  Blaine was going to have a fit when he saw all the mud Ali and I tracked into the car. My boots were toast. Fortunately, my purse had landed on top of the trash pile, not in the mud. I set it down on the floor of the passenger side.

  And what the hell was wrong with my dog? What was in that trash can that she wanted so badly? Driving on Mission Trail toward work, I looked over at Ali. She was curled up on the seat, her sad eyes watching me. “What, Ali? What am I missing?”

  My cell phone rang. Watching the wet road, I leaned across to the floor in front of Ali’s seat and pulled my cell out of my purse. “Hello?”

  “Sam, it’s me.”

  “Angel, what’s up?” My mind was on Ali, not my best friend.

  “I’m at Mom’s shop. I think you’d better get over here right away.”

  “Now’s not a good time, Angel. I’m—”

  “Sophie Muffley is here, Sam. She’s getting her hair done. And she’s telling everyone who will listen not to talk to you about Chad Tuggle’s murder.”

  5

  I dropped Ali off at work, then shot up Railroad Canyon and turned right at the Cocoa’s restaurant on Casino Drive. I went past the Sizzler and made a left into the pink stucco strip mall.

  None of this made sense. Sophie was Chad’s part-time secretary at his insurance office. Her husband was the president of the soccer club. No one was tighter with Chad. So why the hell would Sophie tell people at Angel’s mom’s beauty shop not to help me find out who killed Chad? Knowing Sophie, I was surprised she wasn’t in Detective Vance’s face insisting that he find the killer immediately.

  I parked in front of Glam4Less, then remembered that I’d fallen into a pile of trash in the muddy parking lot. Crap. And here I was at a beauty shop full of women.

  I got out of the car and grabbed my long raincoat from the back. I solved the problem by slipping that on. I knew how to improvise.

  Inside, the smell of peroxide and perm solutions was tossed around by busy blow-dryers. The noise level rivaled my house when Grandpa and the boys turned on wrestling. On my left was the counter with the booking receptionist. Angel sat there on a high stool admiring her freshly painted nails.

  They were black with colored sparkles. Cool. I wasn’t quite sure what I thought about the black tips in her waist-length red hair. “New look?”

  Angel lifted her vivid green eyes. “For my premiere party. Tempt-an-Angel Lingerie is all about sexy fun. I needed a new look.”

  It was a burden to overlook my best friend’s long-legged beauty, but I was up to the challenge. “You and your lingerie will be a hit.” No matter what else happ
ened, I was determined to pull this party off for Angel. We had a girlfriend pact about finding our careers and men. I found my career—okay, maybe I wasn’t a success just yet—but I wanted Angel to find her career, too.

  Men were another problem altogether. I wasn’t sure that telling Angel about Gabe’s stunt this morning was a good idea. Sure, Gabe was a tough guy right off the streets of LA, but Angel was in a class by herself.

  I focused on why I came running over here. “So what’s the story?” I asked, glancing around behind me. The shampoo bowls were nestled in the back right corner of the shop, and behind there was the back room for employees. The front of the shop had the hair stations. The manicurists worked next to the receptionist station. The shop had a black-and-white Fifties look to it. Framed posters from TV shows like I Love Lucy, and movies like Grease, decorated the walls.

  “Sophie Muffley, over there at Mom’s station, heard Joanna telling Mom that Janie cancelled her nail appointment this morning.”

  I looked over at Angel’s mom. She was easy to spot, with Lucy Ricardo red hair that was teased on top with a flip at her shoulders. Trixie wore her usual—overalls paired with a busy printed T-shirt, and tennis shoes that had glitter and sequins glued on them. She looked up in the mirror at me and waved with her scissor hand.

  I waved back.

  That’s when Sophie Muffley, sitting in Trixie’s chair beneath a black cape, caught sight of me. Sophie and I had worked many, many soccer functions together. In her late fifties, her kids were grown and she was a career volunteer. Her awards were numerous—local clubs and newspapers had honored her. If I had a dime for all her acceptance speeches about how she gave up her career—and she never exactly said what that career was—to dedicate her life to children, I would be rich.

  Trixie worked the foot latch on the chair to lower it. Sophie got up, stripped off the black cape, and turned her gaze on me.

  My arms itched. More than once, I’d been browbeaten by Sophie into doing back-breaking jobs. But I was now a professional woman. I could stand up to Sophie.

  She stalked over to stand two feet from me. Her narrowed gaze ran down my length, taking in my raincoat and mud-spattered boots. “Samantha Shaw, how dare you pass yourself off as a private detective to poor Janie Tuggle! Now you come sailing in here dressed like a female Columbo?”