The Last Bachelor

by Judy Christenberry

  “Yes, of course.” That was why he had told her she needed to get off early. And she could study for her test after the grocery shopping.

  They started down the long drive to the main highway. “By the way,” Joe said, “we’re going to install more lights in that back parking lot.”

  “That’s good,” she agreed. She tried to avoid thinking about the attack on her, when she thought she was going to die. The realization that she wouldn’t be working nights, which meant she wouldn’t have to get home in the dark, felt good.

  In the grocery store, Joe pushed the cart and told her to put in whatever she wanted to cook.

  “For tonight?”

  “For three or four days, at least.”

  She bought a lot of pasta, some peanut butter and crackers, two cans of tuna fish and one box of microwave popcorn after some hesitation. “Is this all right? I always wanted to try this.”

  “Of course it’s all right. What else?”

  She added some fresh vegetables so she could make sauce for the pasta. Then she stopped. “That’s all.”

  Joe grinned at her. “Sweetheart, I don’t mean to complain, but I like steak. And we’ll need eggs and bacon for breakfast, bread and ham for sandwiches. For dessert, maybe a cake, more ice cream. Can you make peach cobbler?”

  “Yes, I think so,” she said hesitantly. “But that will all be expensive.”

  “I know, but I need a lot of food to keep me going. I’m not little like you.”

  They made another tour of the store and filled the cart. While Ginger delighted in such freedom to buy so much, she began to worry about eating it all.

  Together they unpacked the groceries when they got home. Ginger discovered doing chores together was a lot of fun, though a little slower than doing it alone. But she enjoyed herself. She immediately opened the cake mix to make dessert. Then she planned dinner itself.

  Joe had some things to do and left her to her planning. He began pulling out some papers from his briefcase. After weeks of not knowing what he wanted to do—return to Chicago or stay in Mission Creek—he’d made up his mind. He was staying there as long as Ginger needed him. He’d promised.

  Which meant he needed to open his own office. While he’d thought about his future, he’d surveyed the business spaces available in Mission Creek.

  He was studying the brochure for the site he’d chosen when the phone rang. He picked up the receiver and said, “Joe Turner.”

  Silence.

  He hung up the phone after trying to find out if anyone was there.

  The phone rang again.

  “Joe Turner.”

  “Is this…Joe Turner from Dallas, Texas?” a female voice asked.

  The voice sounded vaguely familiar. “No, I’m sorry. This is Mission Creek, Texas. Are you trying to reach Dallas?”

  Before he finished his question, the phone went dead. He stared at it, telling himself it was probably a stranger, though trying to place the voice.

  “Joe?” Ginger asked from the kitchen door. “Do you like baked potatoes or mashed?”

  “I—Ginger, does your mother’s voice sound like yours?”

  “Yes, I suppose, except she still has more of an accent.”

  “Damn!” Joe rubbed his forehead.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I think that was your mother on the phone. She must have a call display that gave her our number. And now, thanks to me, she knows your husband’s name and hometown.”

  “My mother called? Did she want to talk to me?”

  Joe felt even worse than before. He saw the hope in Ginger’s eyes. “No, sweetheart. She wanted to know your location. She didn’t ask to talk to you.”

  Ginger stiffened. “No, of course not. How did you say you liked your potatoes?”

  “Ginger, will she tell her husband? Will they come here?”

  “No, of course not. They don’t care about me. And I’m sure his boss wants nothing to do with me since I turned him down. He has a lot of pride.” She turned back for the kitchen. “I’ll go mash the potatoes.”

  Joe didn’t care about the potatoes, but he did care about Ginger’s safety. Later tonight, he’d call his godfather. Perhaps Archy could give Joe some advice.

  Ginger served dinner at six. She’d enjoyed her afternoon so much. Meals had always been a necessity to nourish her body, grabbed in a hurry so she could keep going. This evening she’d planned the meal and served it on beautiful china on a lovely table covered by a linen tablecloth. She proudly called Joe to dinner.

  “Mmm, something smells good, Ginger. You must be an excellent cook,” he said.

  Ginger thanked him but denied being a great chef. “It’s not difficult to make a good meal when there’s money to buy the best food.”

  “That looks like homemade bread. Did you make it?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I am a lucky man.”

  They began their meal.

  “What have you been working on this afternoon?” she asked.

  “My new office. If I’m going to stay here, I need an office so I can properly work and attract customers.”

  “Will you build houses for people?”

  “Maybe, but most of my experience is with business facilities. I’ve heard of several projects they’re going to take bids on soon. I’m going to call Archy later on tonight and see what he knows.”

  “Archy?”

  “Archy Wainwright, my godfather. Remember?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t expect you to call him by his first name. Are people not formal here? At the club, we always call the guests by their surname.”

  “Yeah, but that’s Harvey’s doing. By the way, did you study this afternoon?”

  “A little, while dinner was cooking.”

  “I’ll clean up so you can do a quick review before class.”

  She stared at him. “No. That’s my job.”

  “Nowadays, honey, if the husband eats, he should help with either the cooking or the cleaning. I worked while you cooked. Now you’ll work while I clean.” He grinned as she considered his words, clearly not sure he was telling the truth.

  Solemnly, then, he raised his hand as if taking an oath. “I promise, Ginger.”

  Slowly she said, “That would be nice.”

  “Good, that’s settled.”

  Once he got Ginger to school, he handed her his cell phone. “I’m going to Archy’s for a quick visit. When you finish your test and are ready to go home, press speed dial and then the number seven. Ask for me. Until you see me, don’t come out of the building.”

  “Why?”

  “I just want to keep you safe, sweetheart, that’s all. We don’t want anyone using a knife on you again.”

  She shuddered before she promised to do as he asked. He felt bad that he had reminded her of the earlier attack, but he thought he had to get her agreement. She was way too independent.

  He’d called Archy after he’d finished cleaning the kitchen, and his godfather had invited Joe over for a drink. Not having talked to him in several weeks, Joe had a few surprises for Archy.

  It only took a few minutes to reach the Wainwright ranch, a big, sprawling estate. Archy warmly greeted Joe and invited him into their living room. Justin, his son, was lounging on the sofa, a beer in his hand.

  “Justin! I didn’t know you’d be here. Good to see you,” Joe said with a grin. He and Justin had gone through high school together but had lost touch when Joe went away to school then moved to Chicago. He’d heard about Justin’s failed marriage, and he noticed the easy laughter he remembered wasn’t there anymore.

  “Hi, Joe. Good to see you.”

  The men shook hands and sat down.

  “So, Grandpa,” Joe said to Archy with a smile, “how’s the newest Wainwright—er, Carson?” Archy had just recently been made a grandfather by the birth of his daughter Rose’s son, Wayne Matthew. As much as Archy was delighted to be a grandpa, Joe knew it still galled him that the boy bore the na
me Carson, which he took from his father, Matt.

  Archy’s eyes lit up at the mention of the infant. “He’s doin’ great. A beautiful boy. And I must admit I’ve never seen Rose look happier, even if the kid’s a Carson.”

  Justin scoffed at the comment, but it was what Joe had expected. Taking it in stride, he went on to say, “Well, I’ve got some good news myself. I got married last Saturday.”

  “To whom, boy? And why weren’t we invited?” Archy demanded.

  Justin quietly said, “Congratulations.”

  Joe nodded to his old friend, then answered the other two questions. “You weren’t invited because we ran away to Vegas, Archy. None of my family was there. And I married Ginger Walton.”

  Archy frowned, puzzling over the name.

  Justin leaned forward. “The pretty redhead at the club, Dad. Your favorite.”

  “How come you knew who she was?” Archy growled.

  “All the men notice her, Dad,” Justin said, humor in his voice. Then he turned to Joe. “Now I really mean congratulations, Joe. She’s a looker.”

  “She’s more than that,” Joe said, struggling to keep his pride in check. “She’s a hard worker and a sweet person. She’s from Estonia, you know.”

  Archy shook his head. “Didn’t know that.” He stared at Joe. “What was wrong with Jenny?”

  Joe looked at Archy in surprise. “Is something wrong with Jenny? I thought she was on to another project at the club.”

  “Of course she is. But I recommended her for the job so you’d get a chance to know her. She’s fine-looking and well educated. Might be a better wife than a waitress.”

  “Dad!” Justin protested. “Don’t insult Joe’s wife.”

  “I’m just stating a fact,” Archy growled.

  Joe had been prepared for Archy’s reaction. That was why he wanted to inform Archy without Ginger present. His godfather had always been blunt. “I can assure you, Archy, Ginger is perfect for me. And while she was working seventy-hour workweeks, she’s also been carrying nine hours at the community college.”

  Justin whistled. “A busy lady.”

  “Yeah. I feel like I’m taking advantage of her, since I’m so much older than her, but I’m going to take care of her.”

  Archy started to argue with him, but Joe held up his hand. “I need to talk to you about something before I have to go pick up Ginger from school. Do you still see Johnny Mercado often?”

  Archy flashed a look at his son before he turned back to Joe. Johnny was an old friend of his, but he was reputed to be a member of the local mob. Since Justin was the local sheriff, Archy probably didn’t want his son to know that he still talked to Johnny. “We have a drink together occasionally. Since his daughter died, Johnny doesn’t get out much. Why?”

  “Ginger’s mother came to America when Ginger was sixteen and married a mob guy in New York City.”

  “What family?” Justin asked.

  “Ginger doesn’t know. But her stepfather’s boss got a look at Ginger and wanted her. Said he’d marry her.” His voice hardened. “He’s fifty-eight.”

  “Johnny wouldn’t know anything about a New York mobster,” Archy protested.

  “Okay.” Joe turned to Justin. “I hear you’re the sheriff here now. Did you get a report when a man took a knife to Ginger’s throat out at the club?”

  Justin sat up straight, his body tense. “No. I didn’t.”

  “I didn’t think so. By the way, Archy, the club is going to need to erect more lights in the employees parking lot to make it safer.”

  Archy frowned, but it was Justin who spoke. “Why didn’t I get a report if it happened?”

  “It happened. Ginger didn’t report it. She was worried about being deported. She’d run away from home to avoid being forced to marry this old guy in New York.”

  “You want to report it now?”

  “No, but I’m a little worried. I think Ginger’s mother now knows my name and where we live. I wondered if Johnny might hear something, if that family might call in some debts to snatch Ginger.”

  Justin wanted details and Joe told him as much as he knew, which really wasn’t a lot.

  “Are you keeping your eye on her?” Justin asked.

  Archy laughed. “He’s a newlywed, son. Even you should be able to remember those days.”

  Joe saw the pain in his friend’s eyes and glared at Archy. “That wasn’t necessary, Archy. Yeah, I’m keeping my eye on her. I’m driving her everywhere and then picking her up. I don’t know anything else to do.”

  “She shouldn’t be home alone, either, Joe. She’d answer the door and they’d grab her,” Justin said.

  “Damn, I hadn’t thought of that. I was only thinking of danger when she’s out of the condo. Good thing I haven’t opened my office yet.”

  Archy leaned forward. “You’re opening an office?”

  “Yeah, I’m staying here. Ginger wants to.”

  “Well, at least she accomplished what I wanted Jenny to do. You’re back home to stay.”

  “Dad, you’ve got to stop trying to manipulate everyone you know,” Justin complained. “Especially your children.”

  “Has he been acting up again?” Joe asked, a half smile on his face. Archy had always expected his children to follow where he led. Though they didn’t always, as evidenced by Rose’s marriage last year to Matt, the son of his sworn enemy.

  “Yeah, as usual.”

  The housekeeper entered the living room. “Mr. Turner, there’s a call for you.”

  Joe jumped up. “That will be Ginger calling me to come get her.”

  “Bring her back here. I want to get to know her.”

  “It’s late, Archy. We’ll make it another time,” Joe said as he took the portable phone from the housekeeper. “Ginger?” he questioned into the phone.

  “Yes, Joe. I’m finished.” There was a quavery tone to her voice.

  “What’s wrong, Ginger?”

  “There are a couple of men hanging around, watching me,” she whispered.

  “I’ll be right there. Stay inside where there are other people.”

  “What is it?” Justin asked as Joe handed the housekeeper the phone.

  “She thinks two men are following her.” Joe ran from the room.

  Archy waved Justin in his direction and the sheriff followed Joe.

  “Come with me. We’ll turn on the sirens,” Justin called, and waved Joe in the direction of his official car. In no time they were speeding down the drive.

  “Surely it couldn’t be her stepfather. He couldn’t get here by now.” Joe was leaning forward, as if that would help the car go faster.

  “Who knows? He may have connected with the Mafia here and hired a couple of goons. Or it might have something to do with that knife-wielding guy at the club. She should’ve reported it.”

  “I know,” Joe said grimly, not taking his eyes from the road.

  It took less than ten minutes to get to the college, but Joe lived and died every one of them. He’d promised Ginger he’d protect her. Then he’d gone blithely off to visit his godfather, leaving her unprotected.

  “Quit blaming yourself, Joe. You couldn’t expect anything to go wrong so quickly. She’s probably all right.”

  “Do you have your gun with you?”

  “Yeah, but I’m sure it won’t come to that.”

  “How long does it take to get a permit?”

  “Seven days. But you’re not going to need one.”

  Joe didn’t answer. All he could think about was Ginger’s slender body, her fragile appearance. If anyone laid a hand on her, he’d break their neck.

  When he saw the college, he drew a deep breath and waved Justin toward the building where he’d let her off. Justin stopped the car in a no-parking zone. Joe jumped out of the car and ran up the steps that led to the door.

  He couldn’t see Ginger anywhere. The lights were on in the building, but otherwise everything was eerily quiet.

  “Do you see her? Was s
he to meet you here?” Justin called from behind him.

  “We didn’t specify a place. I told her to stay inside until I got here.”

  He hoped that was what she’d done. But where was she?

  Seven

  Joe shoved the door open, yelling Ginger’s name as he entered.

  Two men were standing in the hall by Ginger’s classroom as Joe rounded the corner. One look at him and they ran in the opposite direction.

  He would have followed them, except that the ladies’ room door opened, slowly at first, then shoved back all the way as Ginger recognized her husband. She flew into his arms, tightly hugging his neck.

  Joe had no objection. Feeling her in his arms was a great relief.

  “Is she all right?” Justin asked over Joe’s shoulder. “Were those two the men she was talking about?”

  Ginger lifted her head in surprise. “I didn’t know—”

  “Honey, this is Justin Wainwright, Archy’s son and the local sheriff. He came along to make sure you were all right.”

  “What did they do?” Justin asked.

  Ginger bit down on her bottom lip and looked away. “N-nothing. I guess I was being silly, but they were waiting outside the door when I came out and started down the hall after me. It made me nervous and I went in there,” she explained, pointing to the ladies’ room. “But when I peeked out, they were always there, waiting. So I stayed inside until I heard you.”

  “You did the right thing, Ginger,” Justin said. “Better to err on the side of caution. Have you seen them before?”

  “No, I don’t think they come to the club.”

  Joe choked back a laugh. “No, they didn’t look like the country-club type.”

  “But you got a look at them, didn’t you, Joe?”

  “Yeah, a glance.”

  “Could either of you describe them to an artist?”

  Joe pulled Ginger close to him again as he thought about what he’d seen. Regretfully, he shook his head, as did Ginger.

  “Okay. But if either of you sees them anywhere, I want you to call at once. Come on, let’s go back to Dad’s. He’ll be waiting for us.”

  Ginger’s eyes widened in surprise but Joe didn’t explain as he pulled her along with him. Outside, Justin said, “Sit in the back with Ginger. I imagine she’s still a little nervous.”