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Page 14

by Fern Michaels


  Ariel sat for a long time, staring into space as she stroked the shepherd’s sleek body, her thoughts chaotic as she tried to make sense of what was happening in her life.

  The small clock on the mantel chimed ten times. Ariel heaved herself erect, calling Snookie to the French doors. The shepherd liked the cool evening air. Ariel took that time to read the report from the private detective. She fully expected to see an address and telephone number for Felix Sanchez. She was so disappointed she wanted to cry and wasn’t sure why. With a cigarette clutched between her teeth, she read through the report, the smoke spiraling upward making her eyes water.

  According to the report there were 67 males named Felix Sanchez ranging in age from ten months to 89 years. There were an additional 33 males named Felix Sanchez who no longer lived in either Mexico or California. Of the hundred males named Felix Sanchez, 17 had a dual citizenship. Nine of the 17 no longer lived in either Mexico or California. Eleven of the males’ birthdays, schools, and the parents’ domestic jobs fit the profile supplied. However, the report went on to say, the school burned and all records were destroyed. Several teachers in San Diego vaguely recall a student named Felix Sanchez. One elderly teacher in a retirement home said the boy she was thinking of returned to school in Mexico after his girlfriend’s military parents were transferred to Germany. Many years later, she said, the boy came back to tell her he was going off to college. She cannot remember where. She was the most promising lead. There is no record of a U.S. driver’s license. A social security number is essential to continue this investigation. A postscript was added in longhand at the close of the report. I personally went to Mexico City to check the divorce and marriage records. I did the same thing here in California with no success. Please advise by phone as to how you wish me to proceed, if at all.

  Ariel stuffed the pages back into the brown envelope. She’d known it was going to end like this. “Damn.”

  Snookie scratched the glass on the door to be allowed in. Ariel opened the door, slamming it shut quickly and bolting it. Now what was she to do? She was wide awake, and she was angry. Really angry. Do what you always do, Ariel, when you get mad. Eat. She headed for the kitchen. She wasn’t surprised to see Dolly sitting at the kitchen table smoking a cigarette. “Couldn’t sleep, huh? I thought I’d make myself a fried egg sandwich. With bacon and lots of ketchup. I’ll make it—I need to do something with my hands.”

  “Oh, no, you make too much of a mess. Extra crisp, right?”

  “Snap-in-two bacon. Nuke it.”

  “So who was calling you all night? Bet it was rancher Sanders. Wants to kiss and make up, I bet.”

  “Wrong. There wasn’t anyone on the other end of the line. I finally unplugged the phone. Probably some jerk getting his jollies thinking he’s scaring me.”

  “More like Chet Andrews. Scare tactics.”

  “If it was him, where did he get my unlisted number? It’s not even on file at the office, just the house phone. Now, if he did manage to get it somehow, that’s scary.”

  Dolly covered the bacon with five layers of paper towels and slapped it into the microwave oven. “I read somewhere that the only people who can get through to an unlisted number is the fire department, and only in an emergency. I can’t remember where I read it, though. If you think about it, it makes sense. It’s possible that scum knows someone in the fire department.”

  “Now, why doesn’t that reassure me?” Ariel snapped. “God, does that mean I have to hassle the fire department?”

  “Unless you have a better idea. Make a list of people you’ve given the number to, and don’t leave anyone out.”

  “I don’t need to make a list. I’ve given it to seven people. You make eight. Everyone else has the house number. Not one of those seven people knows Chet Andrews, and even if they did, they wouldn’t give him my private number.”

  “Lex Sanders?”

  “He hates Chet. Look what that scumbag has us doing. Blaming him, and talking about him at the same time. It’s a fear tactic, and we’re falling for it.”

  The buzzer on the microwave sounded. “You could swat a fly with this bacon,” Dolly muttered.

  “Terrorists prey on people like this. Make my yolk runny so it mixes with the ketchup. I think we’re over-reacting.”

  “I’ve been making you fried egg sandwiches for thirty years. I know you like the yolk all messy and I know just how much ketchup to put on. And, I know you then like to dip the whole mess into black coffee. Tell me again why we took those shooting classes and why I had to take the basic course in martial arts. I already know why, even after I said I didn’t want to take those trucking lessons, I did. Tell me again, Ariel.” Dolly slapped the fried egg sandwich down in front of her boss and then plopped a cup of leftover dinner coffee next to the plate. She cut up Snookie’s egg and set it on the floor.

  “We own a trucking company. It makes sense that the owner and her assistant know how to drive a truck. We might be needed in a pinch for short hauls. Who knows, there could be an epidemic of something or other and the drivers might get sick and then we’d have to pitch in. There could be a union strike or one of those wildcat things. It’s up to the owner to step in.

  “Ooohhh, this is a good sandwich,” Ariel said as she wiped dripping egg yolk from her chin. “When I was a kid my mother used to make me eggs all nice and yellow in the middle with what I called brown lace around the edges. There are a lot of lowlifes and jerks out there. Every woman should know self-defense. You never know when you’ll need it. I have to admit, I’m pretty good at it, and so are you. Think of it as an insurance policy. You hate paying the premiums, but you’re damn glad you have it when it’s time to make a claim. That’s what self-defense is all about. C’mon, you can admit you liked pounding on those guys. It’s wonderful self-control, and it’s an image booster. If we ever come up against the bad guys, we can take them on and come out on top. Trust me on this, Dolly.”

  “Which brings me to the gun part. I hate guns. Guns kill people.”

  “People kill people, Dolly. A gun is not a plaything. A gun owner needs to know that going in. It’s not like we’re packing weapons in our everyday life, although there are times when I think we should. Again, they’re like insurance. If someone breaks in here, I’ll be damn glad I paid the premium. And if the time ever comes when we have to make a run, even though it’s against the law, we’ll be glad we have it. You do what you have to do in this life, Dolly. I could really go for a piece of blackberry pie. If you aren’t too busy, let’s have some this weekend. I say we go to bed now. Five-thirty will be here before we know it.”

  Before she climbed into her turned-down bed and settled Snookie at the foot of it, Ariel hung her wish list back in the closet. Wishes were for children. Adults made their own dreams and were able to recognize the fact that no amount of wishing could take the place of hard work.

  “ ‘Night, Snookie.”

  The shepherd woofed softly, her snoot buried in her own pillow.

  It was 4:10 when the house exploded with sound. Ariel leaped from the bed, disoriented, stumbling over Snookie, who was circling the room in a frenzy. A continuous, high-pitched wail bounced off the wall in double time to a shrieking whistle that seemed to be coming from all the doors and windows. She knew instinctively it was the alarm system even though she’d never tested it out. With trembling fingers she punched in the code that should have turned the room silent in the space of two seconds. The wailing and shrieking continued.

  “I can’t turn it off,” Dolly screamed from the hallway. “It won’t take the code. Do something, Ariel, or we’ll both be deaf. Get Snookie out of here—this is going to hurt her ears.” She obeyed her own instruction and opened the French doors. Both women stared at the dog as she literally sailed through the open doors. She hit the top of the steps when both feet touched the ground for the second time. Then she was in midair, landing gracefully a split second later. She was a streak of black silver beneath the glow of the floodlig
hts, heading into the darkest reaches of the garden.

  “Do something, Ariel.”

  Ariel punched in every combination she could think of, but the alarm continued. “Why isn’t the alarm company calling? They’re supposed to call within three minutes.” She was shouting to be heard over the deafening din.

  “The phone’s dead,” Dolly screamed.

  “It’s not dead dead. The alarm company freezes it or something for those three minutes. Just wait, the dial tone will come on.” Lord, how desperate her voice sounded.

  “It’s been more than three minutes and the line is still dead.” Dolly was bellowing now. “Oh, God, look!”

  Ariel ran to the kitchen door. A parade of red, blue and white flashing lights was racing up her driveway. In the lead was a clanging fire engine. She echoed Dolly’s words. The. alarm continued to sound. Both women ran out to the driveway where Ariel pressed the buzzer to open her gates. She threw her hands in the air as she tried to shout above the din, to try and explain she didn’t know what happened to set off the alarm.

  And then there was silence. Ariel sighed with relief, as did Dolly.

  Ariel tried to explain again in a normal voice that was coming out as a hoarse scream, that they were both asleep when the alarm went off. “Maybe there’s a loose connection or something,” she said lamely.

  “Ma’m, you own Able Body Trucking, don’t you?” a young officer said. Ariel nodded, puzzled. Then she recognized him as the officer who had filed the report of her run-in with Chet Andrews.

  “Do you think there’s a connection between that to-do and my alarm going off?”

  “Anything’s possible. Call your alarm company in the morning and have them come out and check the system. A squirrel could have chewed the wires or they could have gotten wet. It’s as easy to believe that as it is to believe someone tampered with it. You’re sure you paid the bill?”

  “Of course I’m sure I paid the bill. I always pay my bills. Squirrels stay in the trees because of the dog. It hasn’t rained in two weeks. My phone is still dead so perhaps you’ll do me a favor and call the alarm company for me. And I’d appreciate it if you’d call the telephone company, too. Dolly will get you the numbers.”

  “Phone’s back on,” Dolly said. She held out the receiver so Ariel could hear the dial tone.

  “I guess I can make the calls myself, officer. I’m sorry all you men had to come out here. Can we get you anything to eat or some coffee?”

  “No, thanks, Ma’m. We’d rather it be a false alarm than a tragedy.”

  The women waited until the last cruiser backed through the gates. Snookie stood sentinel, her ears alert, the hair on her back at attention. The moment the gates clicked shut, the dog turned and walked sedately ahead to the house. She waited patiently for Ariel to open the door, then stepped aside and did a brief circle of the terrace before she walked into the house. Satisfied that things were under control, she sprawled out in front of the door. When her huge head dropped to her paws, Ariel relaxed.

  Neither woman said a word as Dolly measured coffee into the wire basket of the percolator. Ariel slid thick slices of bread into the toaster. “All we do is eat,” she grumbled. “I just had a fried egg sandwich a few hours ago. I’m going to have to run ten miles on the treadmill today to work this off.” This last was said as she melted butter to spreadable softness in the microwave and scooped wild strawberry jam into a small bowl.

  Dolly bit down into the golden toast. “Ariel, did we make a mistake coming here?”

  “I don’t know, Dolly. I hope not. You’re referring to the problems at the trucking company, I assume.”

  “Everything in general. You don’t look happy. If you aren’t happy, I’m not happy. Snookie is the only positive thing that’s happened since we moved here. I guess what I’m trying to say is if you want to go back to L.A., it’s okay with me.”

  “I can’t quit now. That wouldn’t say much for me. Let’s see it through to the end, then make a decision. Besides, who would buy a trucking company with someone like Chet in the background?”

  “You did.”

  “I didn’t know about him. It was Mr. Able’s place to tell me. Since he chose not to mention it, I have to believe he didn’t think the man would be a problem for me. Of course, I could be wrong. I can even understand him being afraid and not saying anything. Older people deal with fear differently than younger ones. They feel more vulnerable. This just makes me mad.”

  “Time to get ready for the day, Ariel. It’s 5:30. Spruce up—Lex Sanders will be at the office. It won’t hurt to put a little of that sinful perfume behind your ears, and I’d wear those drop earrings with the little clusters of pearls. Maybe you should get dressed up today—you know, a tailored suit or maybe that frilly brown and white polka dot dress with the wide leather belt. Not for Lex Sanders, for the feds. They might be more respectful if you appear businesslike. The pink Donna Karan suit. Easy on the makeup.”

  “Do you want to pick out my underwear, too?” Ariel snapped.

  “Only if you want me to.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “Do you want me to call you after the alarm people leave or should I just head for the office?”

  “Come to the office. We’re so far behind in our billing it’s going to take us weeks to catch up. The Witherspoons from Georgia are due in this afternoon. They want 25 of our rigs, which will bring us a pretty penny. We need to get our bills out so some revenue comes in. Okay, you take care of things here and I’ll do what I have to do. Sometimes, Dolly, I don’t tell you how much I appreciate you. I do, you know. I can’t imagine what my life would be without you. We’re going to work this out, and things will get back to normal. See you in a bit.” She tapped her leg, a signal that Snookie was to follow her.

  Forty minutes later, Dolly said, “You look like a movie star, Ariel Hart. You really look good, my friend. You’re going to have those feds and Lex Sanders eating out of your hand. You eat like a truck driver and as far as I can see, you haven’t put on a pound. That suit looks the same on you as it did back in Hollywood.”

  “And on that thought, I’ll leave you. Do I really look good, Dolly?”

  “He’s going to eat his heart out. Keep watching his eyes. Eyes are the mirror of one’s soul. I believe that.”

  “I’m outta here.” Ariel grinned.

  She laughed aloud when she climbed from the Range Rover and heard wolf whistles as the skirt hiked well up her thigh. She gave a thumbs-up salute as she crossed the lot to the office. Seated on the front step was Lex Sanders. She pulled up short, sucking in her breath.

  “Breakfast. Doughnuts. Delectable jelly and thumb-licking cream. I had the girl throw in two bagels with cream cheese. Hot coffee, real cream. And napkins. You aren’t going to turn me down, are you? I don’t think there’s anything more . . . appealing than a girl with sugar on her lips.”

  Ariel stared at the man on the step dangling the doughnut bag. She wanted to tell him to take a hike, to get off her property for letting a whole month go by without a single phone call. Then she’d deliver some blistering dialogue about holding her personally responsible for his loss. She was going to tell him so, too, to his face. Coldly, of course. Obviously he was going to ignore what she’d said earlier on the phone. Mr. Lex Sanders needed to be put in his place, and she was just the person to do it. She did her best to marshal her thoughts so that when she did start to talk she wouldn’t get flustered. Then he winked at her, the doughnut bag his peace offering.

  Ariel laughed, and then giggled and couldn’t stop. Between giggles, she tried to explain her late-night or early-morning breakfasts and the alarm system going out as she fished inside the bag for one of the jelly doughnuts. She really didn’t want the doughnut or the coffee, but she knew she was going to eat and drink because she didn’t want Lex Sanders to walk out of her life. So much for telling him off.

  “Winsomeness does not become you. I’ve already had two breakfasts. Those things will kil
l you,” she said, pointing to the doughnut bag.

  “I like that suit. I like your hair like that, too, and you smell sweeter than a summer peach.” He dangled the bag again as he followed her into the office.

  “If this is your version of an apology you don’t want to hear what I think of it, now do you?”

  “Actually, I do. I was out of line, and I apologize. You’re making me crazy, Ariel Hart. My life was on a steady course until you arrived and turned it upside down. Nobody in this world who knows me would ever say I’m good with women. I probably shouldn’t admit that because it will give you an edge. Neither party should have an edge. It should be what it is—two people being honest with each other. I have some personal baggage I have to deal with. I imagine you do, too. I’m trying to clear mine away in my own way. What exactly am I guilty of, Ariel? Tell me so I don’t do or say it again.”

  “You . . . what you did was . . . you led me to . . . it wasn’t nice what you did. We’re adults and should act like adults, not adolescents. I actually thought about going to bed with you, and what do you do? You know what you did and don’t think doughnuts and flattery are going to change a thing. How many jelly doughnuts did you bring?” Sugary lips. God.

  “Four. Did you really think about going to bed with me? It’s only 6:15—how could you have had two breakfasts already? I came down early so I could try and explain to you about the jukebox and Coke and bubble gum machines. I wanted to tell you myself why those things mean so much to me. Again, I’m sorry about the things I said. I don’t do things like that. It’s part of . . . you turning my life upside down.”

  “I’m not easy—you need to know that.” God, did she just say that?

  “I never thought you were. I’m not, either,” Lex said huffily. “I didn’t ask you to go to bed, so why were you thinking about it?”

  His voice sounds crafty, Ariel thought. “Maybe you didn’t ask me, but you were thinking about it. That’s what men do. Women think about it and then make the decision either to do it or not. It all depends on the moment. Anything else is kind of calculated and then all the spontaneity flies out the window.”

 

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