by Randy Rawls
I realized I held Wanda’s hand, and she returned the favor. I let go, forgetting that only a few moments ago, my plan was to head to Dallas.
She laughed. saying, “He’s right. Let’s sit down, and I’ll hold you in bondage until he returns. You can tell me how you found Joseph, and why Chip still needs help.”
The idea of Wanda holding me in bondage had definite appeal.
The door closed behind Chip, and she interrupted my fantasy. “First, I’ll share a secret with you. He must want us together because he can call Annie from here. There’s a button under the arm of his chair, and that cord also summons her.”
“I saw him exercise the cord earlier,” I replied, remembering how he summoned Annie for our beers.
“Okay, we’ll humor him. Then, when he gets back, I’ll dash up and change for dinner. You will be staying, won’t you?”
Staying for dinner? If she kept swallowing me with those incredible eyes, I’d be glued to that chair forever.
“Okay, Mr. Supercop, tell me how you managed to find Joseph. Then, tell me why you need to stay on the job. You’ll forgive me, but I don’t quite buy into Chip’s story that you have super powers.” She turned on her smile again, taking the sting out of the words.
“Since you doubt me, young lady,” I said in my best Superman voice, “I shan’t take you for a flight until you apologize. You’ll have to be content with the pedestrian version of what happened.” I filled her in on the sheriff’s report on Joseph.
When I confessed I had thought Joseph was human, she laughed her husky laugh again, sending ripples of delight up my spine. “I understand. The way Chip talks about Joseph, sometimes I forget he’s a burro.”
Her laugh made me wish I had a comedic repertoire so I could keep it going. I could listen to it forever.
I tore my thoughts away from the obvious. “What’s the deal with Joseph? A jackass is a jackass, isn’t it?” I was mystified by Chip’s attitude, and hoped Wanda might lift my veil of ignorance.
“Best not let Chip to hear you call Joseph a jackass. He’d take offense,” Wanda said, smiling. “Joseph watches over the herd. He’s trained from birth to take care of cattle. You may have seen dogs around herds, but you can’t leave a dog in the pasture with them day after day. A burro will stay until you take him away. A dog will fight to the death to protect his charges, but his weapons are limited to his agility and his teeth. A burro will fight as hard, and brings to the fight two extra weapons—his feet and his larger size. He’ll fight with front and rear hooves as well as his teeth and, if you’d seen wolves stomped to death, you’d know what I mean. Also, burros have the same diet as cattle.”
“Hold it a minute. You’re telling me a burro will take on a wolf? That’s hard to believe.”
“A wolf? Is that what I said? Well, I’m sure Joseph would if he had to, but most of our problems around here come from coyotes or wild dogs. I’ve been out with Chip when we found as many as six dead and Joseph with minor scratches.” She grinned, probably at my goofy expression. “There’s no way of knowing how many dogs were in the pack, but there were no cattle missing.”
“Damn.” What else could I say? I plumbed the depths of my memory, but didn’t remember cattle-herding burros while growing up in Cisco. “Ah, anything else I should know so I don’t display my ignorance?”
“One more thing. If Chip had to choose between me and Joseph, I don’t want to consider what his choice would be.”
She leaned back in her chair, and crossed her legs, doubling my heart rate. I lifted my gaze to her face and could see she’d caught me admiring her legs—short shorts, remember? It didn’t seem to bother her as she uncrossed and re-crossed them, giving me serious heart palpitations.
To cover my embarrassment, I asked, “How do you fit in here? Are you Ms. Chip?” I hoped she wasn’t.
That laugh again. I could become addicted.
“Heavens, no. His wife left him ten years ago, so between marriages, I show up to manage his household. I’m Wanda Jamison, his sister, his younger sister. I take back my maiden name when I get divorced. Are you married, Mr. Edwards?”
Her deep blue eyes captured me in a stare that tickled my soul. I hoped her directness indicated an interest. “It’s Ace, please call—”
“No, he’s not.” Chip had returned with a tray of drinks. “He’s been a happy bachelor for several years. Pull in your talons, Sis. He’s not rich enough to be one of your husbands. Sorry Ace. Jake filled me in.”
He walked over and handed me a tall glass filled with an amber liquid. I was thankful for a break in the action. Wanda’s scrutiny made me feel like an exhibit in a carnival.
A sip of the drink told me he’d been true to his word and brought scotch and water—make that scotch, scotch, scotch and a mist of water. I set the glass on the side table, hoping the ice would melt and turn the solution into something potable.
“So Ace, did Wanda convince you to stay?” Chip looked at his sister. “You gotta admit, she’s got some persuasive arguments.”
As a gentleman, I chose not to comment.
“Knock it off, Chip. You’ll have him thinking we’re into incest.” Wanda chuckled again. “We didn’t get that far, though. If you want me to pimp for you, you need to slow down when mixing drinks.” She sipped from her glass and grimaced. “Change that to you need to learn to mix drinks, period. Give me that, Ace, and I’ll turn it into something that won’t eat the lining out of your stomach.” When she said Ace, she turned her smile up to about 500 watts. It reached out and yanked me in, making me feel all warm and liquid inside.
She held out a hand. I put on my best smile and handed her my glass. “Thank you. If I’d drunk that, I’d be here for the night—probably the week.”
“Humph, tastes fine to me,” Chip said.
“Give me a few minutes,” she said. “I’ll get changed.”
“Why?” Chip asked, taking a long slug of his drink. “Look okay to me.”
“I’m comfortable in this outfit,” she replied. “But, I’m not sure Ace can handle it.” From the doorway, she added, “Five minutes.”
True to her word, she was back soon, dressed in jeans and a knit top. The outfit covered, but couldn’t hide the beautiful body she’d exhibited earlier. Or perhaps my imagination continued to see her as she looked when she first entered the room.
As it turned out, I may as well have drunk the killer mixture Chip brought. I stayed the night. We finished the afternoon talking about Joseph—how to get him out of the sheriff’s corral, and how to prove him innocent.
Okay, I admit I didn’t rush myself out the door—my finances, remember? Also, Wanda’s presence pinned me to my chair. But I learned more about her. She was thirty-five, had been married three times, and was now divorced. I envied the three men who’d sampled her treasures. Terri Hart intruded on my lascivious thoughts, but mostly I lusted after Wanda. You remember Terri, don’t you? She’s the woman I miss and dream about. I placated my conscience by telling myself it’d been too long since I’d been with a woman, and Terri would understand.
Sometime during the evening, I agreed to stay on the case and attempt to prove Joseph innocent. In return, Chip insisted on paying fifteen hundred a day plus a bonus if I got Joseph out of bondage by the end of the week—not proven innocent, you understand, but home on bail.
When Chip took a bathroom break, Wanda and I laughed, taking turns guessing the criteria a judge would use in arriving at a bond amount. We agreed Chip would pay no matter how much he set. I might have been giddy from all the Famous Grouse I’d absorbed. Or perhaps, Wanda’s nearness caused it.
At some point, we all headed for bed. I slept in a guestroom—alone.
FIVE
I don’t know whether it was the scotch, my conscience or what, but the night passed with my rolling from side to side, unable to rest. Joseph, Terri, my cats, and Wanda each had their moments tormenting me, refusing to release my mind. I remember the clock glowing the hour of four, s
o I must have slept sometime after. However, sleep gave me no respite.
Terri appeared in my place in Dallas. She wore my white bathrobe, closed to the neck, not the black negligee she normally wore in my dreams. I opened my arms and stepped toward her, but she frowned, then walked into the guest bedroom, closing the door in my face.
In my dream, I stood and spoke to her through the door. A few moments later the door opened and Striker came out. He glared at me, flipped his tail in the air, and walked into the living room. I saw through the walls that he jumped onto the couch, curled up, and went to sleep. As I stood, wondering about my ability to see through walls, the door to the bedroom opened again, and Sweeper came out. He looked into my face then rubbed against my bare ankles. I looked down and realized I was naked. After pushing through, Sweeper flipped his tail into the air and joined Striker on the couch.
I stood, staring at the boys who slept. The door opened a third time. A burro came out and nudged me in the chest with his head. I reached to stroke his cowlick, and he jumped into my arms. Midway in his leap, the burro turned into Wanda who wore her best birthday suit. It startled me and I dropped her.
She lay there, staring daggers at me and banging her fists on the floor. I reached for her as her banging grew louder.
I woke, and realized the noise came from my door.
“What?” I said, rolling to a sitting position.
“Mr. Edwards, it’s already five-thirty,” a female voice said. “You’re holding up breakfast.”
I crawled out of bed, shaking my head. Was it really that early, and who spoke—Annie? And breakfast? Who ate breakfast in the middle of the night? Well, sometimes I did, but only when coming off a surveillance.
Uninvited, the memory of the dream invaded my consciousness. I scanned the room, half expecting to see one of the players. It had been so vivid. I looked for an explanation but found none, although my conscience kicked up a guilt trip. I brooded for a moment, told Terri how much I loved her, then put the dream away and headed for the shower.
Chip’s guestroom was as big as the ground floor of my townhouse, and the shower was big enough for a menage a trois. You could choose the parts you wanted wet. The hot water hammered into me like sharp pins, chasing away the last vestiges of sleep, the dream, and the Famous Grouse.
I dried with a towel big enough to carpet my bedroom. Chip did everything the Texas way—big.
After donning a clean pair of jeans, a clean shirt, and dusting my boots, I set out to find where people ate breakfast. I wandered through a few of the first floor rooms, then heard voices from the direction of the Texas Room. The door stood open and, when I stuck my head in, I saw Chip, Wanda, and a man in uniform at a round table that hadn’t been there last night. They drank coffee. It smelled wonderful.
“Arty, oops, Ace, come in and join us,” Chip called. “I asked Annie to hold breakfast ’til you got up, but I didn’t know you’d sleep all day. I had to send her up to roust you. You’re going to have to shake those city habits if you work with us.”
I tried to ignore his sarcasm and said good morning to Wanda. When I looked into her eyes, the image from my dream flashed through my mind. I couldn’t help but wonder how accurate my subconscious was.
“This is Sheriff Bob Galoway,” Chip said, indicating the third person at the table. “He likes to drop in and mooch Annie’s cooking. Bob, this is the hotshot detective I told you about, Ace Edwards.”
Bob gave me the once over and stuck out his hand. “Glad to meet you, Edwards. I’m sure we can work together as long as you stay legal.”
“Legal is my middle name, Sheriff. While I’m sure you run a wonderful facility, a jail by any name has the same caliber of stains. I’ll pass on their company. Plus, you can forget the hotshot part. I have to work just as hard as you to solve anything.”
“Glad to hear it. Here in Van Zandt, we pride ourselves on the special treatment we give you city boys. I’ll let Dub know we won’t need the cattle prod.” He chuckled.
His laugh had an ominous quality I couldn’t ignore.
“Ease off, Bob,” Chip said. “Ace is okay. We were drinking buddies in college. Besides, Jake vouches for him, and you know how much I think of Jake. If Jake approves, he’s all right.”
Once again, I found myself indebted to Jake. How long would this go on?
I poured a cup of coffee, added sweetener, then turned toward Chip. “Beautiful view. Did you arrange it for me?” I nodded toward the east where the sun showed over the horizon. “At least I beat old sol up.”
The three of them followed my gaze. “Yeah, but not by much,” Wanda said. “Did you stay in bed because you were sleepy, or were you ducking me?”
I wanted to answer, but her image from the dream appeared. I felt myself reddening, again wondering how close fantasy and reality were.
She saved me from further embarrassment. “Maybe you shouldn’t say anything. I like staying in bed late, too. It can be refreshing.” She smiled, leaving me to hope we shared the same fantasy.
“Excuse me, Little Sister,” Chip said, “but I’m paying this city slicker big bucks. Remember, getting Joseph out of the hoosegow is his priority.”
There was a smile on his face as he turned toward Sheriff Galoway. “First thing you gotta do is get Joseph into a bigger pasture. He’s used to space, not a teeny place he can’t turn around.”
“I already told you, it’s close to a full acre, and he’s all alone.” The sheriff winked at Wanda as he continued, “Besides that, he’s eating better than you feed him. He don’t have to forage on your overworked rangeland.”
“You bastard.” Chip bristled. “You know I got the best—”
I missed the rest of his comment as Wanda leaned over and tapped me on the arm. “Don’t worry about them. They go at one another like this all the time. How do you like your eggs? Tell me what you want, and I’ll get Annie started. I take my eggs over easy with lots of crisp bacon and grits. If there’s anything different you want, just let me know.” I hoped I saw a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“Can I have anything I choose?” I figured I may as well join in the double entendres. “If so, I choose orange juice for now, and maybe something spicier later.” I gave her my best leer as she leaned forward. There was a beautiful view of cleavage.
As I enjoyed the scenery, Chip interrupted again. “Hey, you two. At least hold it ’til after breakfast.”
He reached and jerked the bell cord, and the door opened.
“Yes sir, Mr. Jamison,” Annie said as she came through the door. “I suppose you want to eat. It’s near lunchtime. Should I fix sandwiches or do you want me to re-heat breakfast?”
The sheriff let out a hearty laugh and slapped his leg with his hat. “Damn, that’s music to my ears. You sure met your match, Chip.” He turned toward Annie. “Keep it up. He needs chasing around the corral some. Makes him appreciate his soft life better.”
I noticed he had a nice hat. It was a deeper shade than the one I’d taken off Sheriff Yarborough in Eastland County after I solved Jake’s arson. I wondered if I could add this one to my collection. Only the second, but I’d be well on my way to a display in the Dallas museum. The billing would read, Hats of Sheriffs Made Famous by Ace Edwards, PI.
Chip didn’t miss a beat. “Annie, you hush your sass, and bring breakfast—the works. You know how three of us like our eggs, and I do believe Ace likes everything Wanda has, so make two like hers.” He grinned at me again.
Annie looked me over. “Well, at least this one’s better looking than the last one she married.” She turned to Wanda. “I told you your third husband looked like a weasel, but you married him anyway.”
Annie went into the house. I felt like the winning boar in a hog-judging contest. Chip, Bob, and Wanda stared at me like I should say something. “I bet he was richer than me, though,” popped out.
Wanda’s laugh surprised me. “I’ve got all the money I need. My next man’s going to have to win me wit
h more than a checkbook. And believe me, he’s gonna prove himself before we marry.” She gave me another of those penetrating, all over, x-ray vision looks. “Be interesting to see if you can measure up.”
All I could do was blush, and be glad I’d put on clean skivvies.
During breakfast, the sheriff explained that he had to keep Joseph in custody until he figured out the whole story of what happened. If Chip wanted him back faster, he’d have to get to the bottom of the mystery himself.
Chip put me on the spot again. “That’s why Ace is here. He’ll get to the bottom of it.”
After eating enough for three cowhands on roundup, the sheriff excused himself, saying he had work back at the office. Wanda invited me to go shopping in Terrell, and Chip suggested we visit the north pasture. I preferred Wanda’s invitation, but Chip’s was impossible to refuse.
* * * *
When Chip and I walked out the front door, Frank waited beside a Jeep. “She’s ready, Mr. Jamison. I figgered Mr. Edwards would be more comfortable in this than on horseback.” A grin followed his announcement.
“Thanks, Frank,” I murmured, eyeing the Jeep, and knowing there was truth in his comment. It had been years since I’d been a serious cowboy.
The Jeep was clean—so clean, it looked like it belonged on the streets of Dallas, not on a working ranch. My guess was Frank was as efficient outside the house as Annie was inside.
“Load up,” Chip said. “It’s damn near seven-thirty. We’re wasting the sun. The sooner I put you to work, the sooner Joseph comes home.”
I climbed into the vehicle and before I could get my seat belt fastened, we careened out of the yard. The north pasture was about five miles from the house and averaged a chuckhole every twenty yards. I know because Chip hit each of them. My spine kept count.
Over the wind in my ears, I yelled, “Stop before you get to the pasture. We’ll walk in. There might be tracks.”
I discovered Chip takes suggestions literally. We walked the last half-mile.
