A Dime a Dozen (25 page)

I was glad that, in the end, the police didn’t impound my rental car. Not that it would’ve mattered, really, but it would’ve been an inconvenience. Instead, they took a few photos and filled out a report, and then, just before they left, I was glad to see June Sweetwater pull to a stop and get out of her car to make sure the situation was being handled properly.

“From what I understand,” she said to me from under an umbrella, “this stink bomb could’ve been placed there either at the orchard or at the Webbers’ house?”

“Those were the times the car was unattended this evening. But the windshield wipers kicked it off, and it hasn’t rained all week. How do I know it wasn’t set up long before now?”

She asked me to think if I had turned on my wipers at any point since the stink bomb incident Sunday night. I closed my eyes and thought hard and finally decided that I was fairly certain I had used them for at least a few swipes this morning, when the windshield fogged up just a bit as the car was first warming up.

“All right, then,” June said, patting me on the shoulder. “You be careful. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, but I think this was a message, loud and clear.”

“Oh, I know it was,” I said, my chin set. “But guess what? They sent that message to the wrong person.”

When I finally reached the cabin and pulled into the driveway, I thought I could very well put my head down on the steering wheel and go to sleep right there. As Harriet pulled in next to me, I decided she wasn’t looking much better, as her trademark pile of red curls was now sitting in a big damp wad on her head.

As I climbed from the car, I thought that the very first thing on my agenda in the morning was going to be getting down to the lake and out in a canoe. I didn’t care how much work I needed to do or who or what was depending on me. If I didn’t hit some open water and paddle out some of this tension, I thought I might explode!

Harriet said she needed a few minutes to pull her stuff together, so while she sorted through the luggage in her car, I climbed up the front steps in the dark, wishing I had thought to leave the porch light on. It wasn’t until I was flipping through my keychain looking for the door key that I realized someone was already on the porch.

A sound, almost like a snort, came up from the other end.
Bear!
was my first thought, but then I realized it sounded more human than animal. Ears prickling, I could hear someone breathing, heavy and even.

Instinctively, I stepped in the other direction, toward the mound of firewood stacked next to the front door. I looked out toward Harriet, but she was oblivious, still rooting through her things, bent over to work in the circle of light from her trunk.

Silently, I slipped my keys in my pocket, grabbed a piece of firewood off the top of the pile, and held it in my hands like a baseball bat.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I decided that I could just make out the shape of a person at the far end of the porch.

“Who’s there?” I demanded loudly, taking one step forward. There was a rustle of noise from that end, then silence.

“What’d you say?” Harriet called.

My heart pounding, I didn’t answer her, and again I thought of a bear. I knew I could take on a person, but a wild animal? No way! If that were the case, then my only hope was to either get into the house or down the front steps and back inside my car. More importantly, somehow I had to warn Harriet.

“Did you say something to me?” she asked again, clattering up the walk with a suitcase in each hand.

Suddenly, the figure on the porch sprung to life. With a great snort, it jumped up and knocked a rocking chair toward me.

“Run, Harriet!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Call nine one one!”

“Aaargh!” Harriet screamed, dropping her bags and running to her car.

“What is it? What is it?” a voice cried. “Who is that?”

The figure froze, and I strengthened my grip on the wood.

“What do you want?” I demanded.

“Mrs. Webber?” a boy’s voice echoed across the black porch.

“Who is it?” I demanded.

“Pepe Morales. It’s me, Pepe.”

Heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it, I lowered the wood as I realized the figure on my porch wasn’t a bear after all.

It was, in fact, my new young friend, Pepe.

“What are you doing here?” I said weakly.

“I…I needed to talk to someone,” he said. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Why did you scare me like that?”

“You scared
me
. I must’ve fallen asleep waiting for you.”

He stepped closer, and I could see that it was, indeed, him. I blew out the breath I had been holding.

“How did you get here?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“I heard what was going on, so I caught a ride with someone to the orchard,” he said. “But then when I saw…when I saw all the cops and people and everything, I freaked.”

“Oh, Pepe.”

“I remembered where you said you were staying and all, so I walked here.”

I shook my head, trying to picture this boy running uphill, away from the confusion of the orchard. No wonder he had fallen asleep—he must be exhausted!

“Excuse me one minute,” I said, setting down the wood and then rushing down the steps to Harriet’s car. She was sitting inside, locked up tight, the phone to her ear. I convinced her to roll down the window, which she did just a crack.

“False alarm,” I said. “It’s a friend of mine. Tell the police we’re okay after all.”

She shut the window, spoke a bit longer into the phone, and then hung up.

“I don’t know why,” she said, getting out of the car, “I ever let you talk me into doing anything. I like my life calm. I like my life simple. But it seems like every single time—”

I cut her off by placing my hand on her forearm.

“It’s Pepe Morales,” I said softly. “Luisa’s son.”

While Harriet shut up and hung back, I went up the steps to find the boy and gave him a hug. I was afraid he might resist, but instead he gripped me tightly, and I was surprised to find that his body was shivering.

“Let’s get you inside,” I said. “Then you can tell me what’s going on.”

In the house, under the light, I got a better look at Pepe. His black hair was a tangled mess, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

Before we even spoke, I brought him a blanket and wrapped it around him and sat him on the couch. Harriet asked if he was hungry and he nodded, so she set about making some chicken noodle soup and hot tea as she familiarized herself with my kitchen. I told Pepe I needed to change into dry clothes but I would be right back. Once I was in the bedroom with the door closed, I called Natalie and told her he was here, but not to come for him yet.

“Oh, thank you for calling, Callie,” she said. “I was really starting to worry.”

“I’ll call back when he’s ready to go home,” I said.

After hanging up, I changed into sweatpants, sweatshirt, and some very warm socks. When I came back out, I told Harriet she should do the same.

“Your room is at the top of the stairs,” I said. “Please, just make yourself at home.”

“Soon as I get the boy something warm to eat,” she said, and suddenly I felt a surge of relief and happiness that she was here with me. Sometimes I got so tired of being alone, of handling crises all by myself!

I found Pepe where I had left him, curled in blankets on the couch, only now I saw that he had fallen asleep again. Lying like that, his head tilted down on the arm rest, he looked so young, so innocent. I closed my eyes and prayed that God would fill me with the wisdom and good counsel that the boy would need.

To that end, I retrieved my Bible and began looking for verses about death and eternal life—not that I planned to preach at him, but I thought I might find a verse or two that could give him some hope and comfort now that he knew his father was dead. Harriet put a bowl of soup and a cup of tea on the table, adding some crackers on a side plate. Then she picked up her bags from near the door and carried them up the stairs.

“Swanky,” she whispered to me from the top of the stairs.

“Thanks,” I whispered back.

I could hear her moving around, probably unpacking her bags and changing into dry clothes. She and I still hadn’t had a chance to talk, so I was glad when she finally came back down the stairs, dressed in a nightgown, housecoat, and a pair of purple fuzzy slippers.

“What a cute place this is, Callie,” Harriet whispered, smiling. “You kept calling it your little cabin, but it’s really spacious and quite comfortable.”

“Thanks.”

“Is he still asleep?” she whispered.

“Yeah.”

“Poor kid. I used to fall asleep when I was upset too. My mother thought it was the strangest thing. I got lost once in a department store, and I finally went to sleep under a clothing rack. That’s where they finally found me, hours later!”

I put my Bible on a side table and gestured for Harriet to follow me into my bedroom. Leaving the door cracked so I could hear if Pepe awakened, I gestured for her to sit on one of the beds while I sat down on the other.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I said, meaning it. “This has been a very long day.”

“From what I’ve heard,” she replied, “things have been pretty wild since you got to town.”

Reluctantly, I told her the full story. I started with the stabbing victim and his death, and continued through the fire at Luisa’s trailer to the mummy that was found today at the orchard. I had really hoped to avoid some of this stuff with her, because Harriet was very skittish when it came to things like murder and violence. It was usually easier to let her simply do her job while I did mine. But apparently she had already heard some things, so I thought it best to lay it all out for her straight.

“Sorry for getting you into this,” I said.

“It’s all right. I should have known going on location with you would get me into more than just debits and credits.”

“Speaking of that, how do the books look to you?” I asked.

“Oh, the place looks great,” she said. “Clean as a whistle so far.”

“Good. I hope you’re still as impressed by the end of the week when you finish your audit.”

“Me too. Especially because the people there are so nice.”

She talked about the Webbers, which then led to the inevitable discussion of Bryan and what it was like for me to be here in the midst of all these memories.

“I’m doing great,” I said. “In fact, I think this trip was probably just what I needed. Things will be changing for me soon, and I guess it’s good for me to see, finally, that I really am ready to move on.”

“What?” Harriet asked, her eyes wide. “You’re not moving, are you?”

“No,” I said. “I meant moving on emotionally. I’m in a new relationship now, and things are starting to get serious.”

“I knew it!” she said. “It’s that gorgeous neighbor of yours, isn’t it? Ooo, honey, you have landed yourself a hunk.”

“No,” I said, smiling, “it isn’t Kirby. He and I are just friends.”

“Who, then? You spend so much time working, I don’t see how you have time to get out and meet—” She stopped, midsentence, and stared hard at me, as if she were working to form her thoughts. “Please tell me this isn’t about you and Tom again. I already explained to you—”

“Tom came to see me,” I said.

She blinked, silent for once.

“Last November,” I continued, “after the whole mess with the smugglers and the INS and everything. He found out I had been in the hospital, and so he came to see how I was doing.”

“He was in Singapore then,” she said skeptically.

“Yes, he was. But he flew to Baltimore, rented a car, and showed up at my house. We spent about twelve hours together, and then he left again and went back to Singapore. In less than a week, he’s coming home, and he’s coming home to me.”

“He came to see you as a friend,” she said uncertainly.

“Well, sure,” I said, “if friends hold hands and talk about their future and kiss each other like there’s no tomorrow.”

“Did he say ‘I love you’?”

“No,” I told her. “But I think he does. And I think that I love him.”

I wasn’t sure what her reaction would be, but she surprised me by jumping up, grabbing a pillow, and throwing it at me.

“You’re lying!” she cried angrily, and I shushed her, pointing toward the other room. “You’re lying,” she said again, in a sharp whisper this time.

“Harriet, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” I said. “But it was all so new, so private. Then the more time that passed, the harder it was to say anything. I hope you can forgive me.”

She paced the floor for a few minutes and then stopped, hands on hips, and glared at me.

“What are we to each other, Callie?” she asked. “You and me. Acquaintances? Coworkers?”

“You know we’re more than that,” I said. “You’re one of my best friends.”

She nodded.

“That’s what I thought too,” she said, and then she turned on her heel and walked from the room. I could hear her clunk her way up the stairs, then down to brush her teeth and use the bathroom, then back up to her room, where I heard the creak as she climbed into bed.

I decided to let her sleep on it, thinking that perhaps in the morning she would’ve cooled down a bit and we could talk some more. While I felt bad for keeping her in the dark all this time, I knew that if I had to do it all over again, I’d probably do it the same way. For some reason, talking about my relationship with Tom did not come easily to me.

Putting Harriet out of my mind for now, I walked back into the living room, where Pepe was still sound asleep on the couch. Exhausted myself, I put a hand on his arm and shook him awake. I knew there were people who were worried about him. And the sooner we could talk, the sooner he could get back with his family where he belonged.

Twenty-Four