She pushed aside the thoughts when she pulled into the police station. The police department happened to share a parking lot with the Emerald Zoning Commission, a fact that did not escape her notice this morning. Just in case she ran into Noel, she reapplied her lip-gloss and checked her hair. It looked good enough for prom. The morning after her blackout, she had hoped he’d call with a perfectly reasonable explanation for why he had slept with a drunk girl, apologize, and ask her out again. Now, a few days out, she mostly wanted to prance around and show him what he was missing. With a hair toss and a vehicular exit that showed off a pair of sassy leopard-print tights—technically pantyhose, thank you very much—she sashayed into the building.
A tall tan man with broad shoulders and an air of casual confidence sidled up to her at the front desk. He looked like a Viking, but smelled like Spain. Ruby had never been to Spain, but he smelled like sun-baked pottery and heady spices. Maybe that was Mexico? Regardless, he smelled good. He gave her an unabashed appreciative once-over and said “Morning, Miss…” pausing to let her fill in her name.
“O’Deare, Ruby O’Deare,” she supplied.
“Miss O’Deare,” he drawled, “Janet is on her coffee break. Maybe I could help you out instead?” He didn’t look like he normally answered phones.
Ruby returned the appreciative glance and parried, “Maybe I should wait for Janet.”
“Well, that’d be a shame. Janet takes long coffee breaks and I’m right here.”
“I think I’ll wait.” For some reason “I’m Too Sexy” started running through her head—his theme song. Ruby feared that if she stared at him for too long he might begin to grind on something or someone.
He turned out to be right about the coffee breaks. Janet did take inordinately long ones. The song kept playing in her mind, but like a skipped disc she kept repeating the same line in her head over and over again, until thankfully, Too Sexy himself sauntered back in and sat on Janet’s desk. He kicked his long legs out and took a sip of coffee. “Are you sure you don’t want a little help?”
“Maybe.” Really, there was no reason to say no to the man. There were oh-so-many reasons to say yes. He had the kind of muscles that made a girl want to touch.
“I thought you would,” he said with too much confidence. “I’d be happy to help you out, but you’ll have to let me buy you a drink tonight.”
Ruby decided to kill the flirtation before it got off the ground. She hadn’t even recovered from her blackout sex with Noel. Plus, she still hoped he’d call. With that in mind, she said, “I’m sort of seeing someone and I’m really busy. I don’t think I’ll be done until at least eight tonight. I’m very career-focused right now.”
“Hmm. Sort of seeing someone… Doesn’t sound too serious. How about a quick slice of pie? I assume you still eat dessert?”
She nodded, but didn’t say yes, even though she had a sudden impulse to trace the line of his bicep with her index finger.
“Are you married?” He gestured to her naked left hand.
“No.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“I’m not sure,” she replied. Hoping to repeat professional misconduct with Noel didn’t really fit neatly into any of the normal relationship descriptions, especially given that she didn’t even know what happened the first time.
“Sounds like a no to me. What’s wrong with dessert?”
He detected her unspoken capitulation as she began to think dessert might be fun.
“Excellent. I’ll pick you up at seven. Tell me where you live and I’ll help you out with your official police business.”
“Make it next week and I’ll go,” she compromised. She figured that’d give her enough time to rule out all possibility of dating Noel before moving on to the sexy Viking. She caught his eyes and said, “I’m here to question an officer.”
At that moment she caught sight of Tyrone. He strutted into the room, still looking more like a football player than a lawyer. She could never remember the name of the position he had played, only that he had looked cute in his uniform. She gave him a hug and said, “Hey, Ty, are you ready for our meeting?”
He smiled and said, “Ruby, good to see you.” Ty pointed toward Ruby’s new dinner date and said, “I see you’ve already met Officer Peterson.”
Ruby looked at Too Sexy with surprise.
He flashed back a wicked smile and said, “Well, we haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Eric.” He held out his hand for Ruby.
Ruby’s mouth sagged open in a manner hardly less exaggerated than a Warner Bros. cartoon. A date with her client’s arresting officer was not the shot of professionalism her career needed. And what kind of police officer had shoulder-length blond hair? As she took his hand, she couldn’t help but appreciate his big, warm, golden mitt, but she thought, He should have known better.
Eric leaned against the info desk in a relaxed, manly way, as if he were leaning against his tool bench with a hammer hefted over his shoulder. Ty said, “Why don’t we get this deposition over with?” and pointed down the hall to the meeting room.
On the way into the room, Ruby sidled up to Eric and said, “I’m going to have to skip dessert.”
“Mmm. You smell great.” He said smelling her hair.
She stepped farther away and said, “Did you hear me? I want to cancel dessert.”
In a Rico Suave voice, he said, “Oh, don’t do that. Just give me a day. Maybe I can get the case reassigned.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’ve already filed the report. You’re a potential witness.”
Ty took notice of the hushed chitchat and asked, “Do you two know each other?”
Ruby snapped, “No, we just met.”
“Okay, well, let’s get this meeting started. Ruby, what do you want to ask?”
Ruby introduced herself and noted the date and time for the court reporter. “Hello, my name is Ruby O’Deare. Also present is Ty Wilcox, counsel for Emerald Police. Mr. Peterson, would you please state your full name and occupation for the record?”
“Sure, my name is Eric Thorgaard Peterson. I’m thirty years old, six feet tall, and 190 pounds, mostly muscle. I enjoy sailing and hope to circumnavigate the globe in a two-man, or better yet a one-man, one-woman boat before I’m forty.” He nodded to Ruby. “Currently, I’m a detective with the Emerald Police Department, which I will refer to as the EPD henceforth. By the way, Ruby”—he lingered on the word—“is a very pretty name.”
Ruby gave him a stunned look and Ty interjected, “Officer Peterson, would you please limit your answers to the pertinent facts.”
“Of course, I thought Counselor O’Deare would find my biostats and goals pertinent to her assessment of my performance as an officer, and her, ahem, dinner plans.”
“Officer Peterson, please,” Ty interjected. “Would you like to meet privately for a moment so I can explain the purpose of this deposition?”
“Oh, I think I understand.” If he did understand the basic purpose of the deposition, he didn’t appear to care.
Ruby tried her best to continue. She needed to finish this and work on a settlement for Estelle. “Did you arrest Estelle Harris on August third of this year?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you make the arrest?”
“Her grandson, Jermaine, and his associate Marcus confessed to robbing the Giddyup Bank and implicated Estelle Harris as a co-conspirator.”
“How did they implicate her?”
“They said she was at the meetings where they planned the robbery and that she provided cover while they completed the actual robbery.”
“Did they say whether she was aware of the plan?”
“They implied that she was.”
“So they only implied?”
“I’d have to review the transcripts of their interrogations to be sure. I do remember that they said Estelle baked lemon chiffon cake, one of my favorites. Do you like lemon desserts, Counselor O’Deare, or do you prefe
r chocolate?”
“I’m asking the questions, Officer Peterson. If you would please limit your answers to the scope of the question, this process would be more efficient.” Ruby was feeling annoyed, but she also couldn’t help but swoon a little at his devil-may-care attitude. Going out with a hedonistic Viking might have some perks. Out of exasperation Ruby looked at Ty, “Could you please control Officer Peterson? I’d hate to call the judge for a talk.”
“I’d love to. Eric, can you please quit with the commentary?”
“No problem.” Eric looked amused.
After suffering through a few more questions, Ruby called the whole thing off. “I think I’ve learned everything I can from Officer Peterson.” She looked at Eric, “That’ll be all. I’d appreciate more cooperation in the future.”
Eric gave her a conspiratorial nod that Ruby attempted to ignore and said, “Miss O’Deare. It was a pleasure. I’ll look forward to seeing you again. I think you’ll find me more cooperative over dinner.”
She gave him a look she hoped was mysterious, because she honestly didn’t know what type of message she wanted to send the man and said, “See you later.”
As Eric left and the court reporter packed up her things, Ty said in an annoyed voice, “It looks like you made quite an impression on Officer Peterson.” In a lower tone, he said, “Just so you know, he’s in sensitivity training right now. We’ve had some complaints from the secretarial pool.”
Ruby laughed. She suspected that sensitivity training would slide right off Eric’s Teflon coating of machismo. “That doesn’t surprise me. So, Ty, what did you want to talk about? Are you ready to make a settlement offer?”
“I think we can come to some sort of agreement. You’re right about Estelle Harris. I can’t talk now, but let’s get a settlement done by the end of the day.”
Ruby might not have seen Noel on her way into the building, but on her way out, she got her wish. From across the parking lot she watched him hold the door open for a pretty brunette—definitely an attorney. A perfect attorney. She conformed to the cubicle and personal dress rule of thumb: only one personal touch, in her case, a diamond broach shaped like a fleur-de-lis. She dragged a rolling file cabinet stuffed with an obscene number of legal documents.
Ruby’s shoulders sagged as she saw Noel gently touch the small of the woman’s back, steering her to his car. He gallantly loaded her oversized file box into the trunk, opened the passenger door for her, and drove away. Ruby envisioned them drinking a bottle of Bordeaux and making passionate love right on top of the spilled contents of her rolling file cabinet. She probably even used classy birth control, like an IUD. She sure as hell wouldn’t be caught dead with Night Light condoms.
Behind the wheel of her Mustang, Ruby dejectedly turned on the radio and sang, “Don’t you wish your girlfriend was hot like me.” She tried to own it, but she couldn’t sing it with any real feeling so she just changed the channel to a country station, went home, and warmed up some leftovers. She watched The Bachelor, which made her cry.
Because Ming and Todd weren’t there to stop her—something about an “all-night experiment”—Ruby performed an exhaustive Google search for women in the government center who fit Rolly Bag’s description. When she finally found her, Ruby’s hopes sank. Rolly Bag went by the name of Moira Hampton.
With her fancy resume and tasteful accessories, Moira was clearly more suited to Noel. Ruby could almost see the couple’s future Christmas cards, taken on the top of a ski hill, their cheeks pink from exercise and fresh air, dressed in matching, but not too matchy ski sweaters. Ruby exhaled in defeat. She could never be that girl.
Chapter Five
Trudi’s a Peach
Ruby woke up the next morning with a hangover from her neurotic late night Googling. (It took her until two a.m. to finish her investigation of Rolly Bag.) To top that off, she opened the lid of the coffee canister and found it empty, one lonely bean rattling around in the bottom. Bleary-eyed and desperate, she decided to drop by Estelle’s house to give her an update, but more importantly, to beg for fresh-baked goodies and coffee like a stray dog.
Estelle answered the door wearing an old-lady nightgown and slipper-socks. “Oh, dear. Would you mind giving me a few minutes to get dressed? I got so caught up watching my morning television I didn’t get out of my bedclothes.” Ruby could hear a televangelist ranting in the background and Estelle commented, “I have to get my daily dose of Pastor Rick. I loooove that man.” Estelle’s whole face lit up when she mentioned the pastor. The sermon had definitely left her with a spring in her step.
Pastor Rick was Emerald’s resident preacher. He had a church in the Biomall’s sister mall, the Glass Chapel. Locals called it the Glam Chapel, an appropriate moniker given its location. True to his glam image, he was proselytizing on wealth, “Enjoy your wealth. If God has blessed you, go out and buy yourself a car. Buy a Camaro, whatever makes you happy! This is the U.S.A.! God hates a martyr!” Ruby scratched her head. Not being religious she couldn’t be sure, but that sounded a bit off.
Estelle, who was bobbing right at the poverty line with a handful of soggy food stamps, said, “God, I love that man. He just feels the spirit.”
“You’re not the only one,” said Ruby. “Do you have any coffee made, or can I start some?”
“Of course I’ve got coffee, sugar. The morning you find me without a pot of coffee is the day I’ll be laid out in the front parlor in my church clothes.” Ruby glanced at the so-called front parlor, a dingy room straining to hold yellowing stacks of TV guides, some of Jermaine’s grow lights, about three years’ worth of recycling, and two stained velveteen sofas.
Estelle followed Ruby’s gaze. “Jermaine’s been meaning to clean that room up for ages. I just don’t know what to do with all that equipment. He has such a green thumb. It’s a shame he isn’t putting that equipment to better use.”
Bullshit! didn’t seem to be an appropriate response, so Ruby remarked, “I like your slippers, Estelle.”
“Do you, sweetie? You know, I’ve got more of these things. I bought a whole box in 1985. I figured twelve pairs would do me until I died. I’ve got two pairs left.”
“Oh, I bet you’ll make it through two more pairs of slippers, Estelle.”
Estelle was already searching for the extra Isotoners. “I don’t think so, sweetie, and lord knows, I’m practically psychic.” Estelle inspected the rubber tread on her own shoes, “I’m not being morbid. These ones have a few good years left in them.”
Determined to bequest Ruby her slippers, Estelle rooted around in the front closet through a pile of random junk until she surfaced with the promised slippers and two Thigh Masters.
“Here you go, dumplin’. I bought a box of these a while back, too,” she said, as she held out the Thigh Masters. “They’re real good. I used them before I gave up. The springs go out now and then. Your boyfriend will love what it does for you.”
“Estelle!” Ruby laughed. As Estelle went off to change, she helped herself to coffee and a muffin and looked at the pile of junk Estelle had collected for her. The woman was a pack rat. A few minutes later, Estelle reemerged in her daily uniform of a velour tracksuit and fussed around the kitchen a little.
“Estelle, I actually came over because I have news about your case. Actually, great news. You are free and clear. I got the DA to drop the charges against you. He was just using them as bargaining chip against Jermaine.” Ruby waited expectantly for Estelle to jump up and down or at least look happy.
“Oh, that’s wonderful, honey. Thank you so much.” Truthfully, Estelle didn’t look like she cared that much, most likely because she understood her charges for what they were. She paused for just a moment. “How about Jermaine? Will his charges be dropped, too?”
“No. Since Trudi and Marcus confessed, he’s going to have to serve some time. I think he can expect a year.” In Ruby’s estimation Jermaine deserved what was coming to him. Considering the trouble he routinely dragged her
into, Estelle appeared to be better off without him.
“That’s hooey. He’s such a good boy. If only he’d grown up with a proper family, this never would have happened. A boy needs to learn how to be a man from his daddy. Jermaine just never had that.” Estelle stared wistfully in the direction of the living room for a while. “His mama, my daughter, left him with me when he was no more than knee-high. I did my best, but I was always working too much. He had dinner at the diner most nights while I waited tables. By the time he was a teenager I was still waiting tables and he’d taken to running around with Marcus and a bunch of troublemakers. That’s no way for a boy to grow up.”
“Maybe Jermaine will straighten out after this experience.” Ruby gave Estelle a hug on her way out the door and the old lady squeezed her tightly. She didn’t believe for one minute that Estelle hadn’t given 100 percent to Jermaine.
On the way out, Ruby ran into Trudi, another of the Giddyup hold-up gang. Unlike the boys, Trudi had managed to wriggle out of serving any time by testifying against a cellmate. Trudi had a fine, cat-call-worthy booty, but as a white girl, she hadn’t been able to order it up à la carte. This didn’t stop Trudi from squeezing herself into a pair of jeggings and a low-cut top.
Ruby offered her hand. “Hi, you must be Trudi.”
Trudi observed Ruby’s hand suspiciously, as if Ruby planned to spit palm her.
Ruby retracted her hand and tried again, “Um…congratulations.” What was the appropriate thing to say when someone was released from jail? Congratulations probably didn’t capture the moment.
Trudi gave Ruby’s armload of Thigh Masters a quick once-over. “You been taking my stuff?”
“Erm. No. Estelle gave me these. Have we met before?”
“Duh. Junior high.”
Just when she started to feel like a jerk, Ruby remembered. “Oh, yeah, jazz band. I remember.” She and Trudi had played flute for a short stint in ninth grade jazz band. Ruby couldn’t remember how she’d ended up in jazz band, but she had a flash of memory, retainers resting on the music stands and loud, off-key flute playing.
Ruby's Misadventures With Reality Page 4
