Getting Sassy (34 page)

“Robyn?”

“Hmm?”

She didn’t respond, so after a few moments I opened my eyes and looked at her. Twin streams of smoke exited her nostrils.

“Why am I here?” she asked. “Why do you have that goat?”

Bix, who had been traversing the room, nose to the ground, stopped and looked at me, almost as though he, too, wanted some answers.

I thought if I explained the situation with Jack Landis first, maybe I’d distract her from the goat, which was much, much more difficult to explain.

“Okay,” I said. “You remember that letter that Robbie sent you?”

Her eyes widened. “Did you get it back?”

I shook my head. “Not yet.” I swallowed. “That man who played guitar at Dryden—Jack Landis?”

She nodded.

Bix had gone back to his frenetic room inspection.

“He took the letter when he was in your room.”

“I should have known.”

“We both should have.”

“But why?”

“I don’t know. He’s looking for something.” I shook my head. “But whatever he was looking for wasn’t in the letter, and he came back for it.”

“To my place?”

“No. To my apartment.”

“Did he do anything to you?”

“No, Mom. Nothing. But he thinks I know what that something is. And I don’t. I was afraid he’d come and bother you again and, well, I’m convinced he can be a pretty nasty guy when he wants to be.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What else did Mary Waltner give you?”

She shook her head. “I—I can’t remember. Other than the letter.” Her eyes softened at the mention of it, but then she focused again. “That’s all I remember, Robyn. Just the letter. It was so—so much to take in.”

I nodded. “Do you think there was some kind of code in the letter? Some message that only you would understand?”

“Well, I don’t think so. It was a long time ago, Robyn. Unless it was something I was supposed to remember. Something that was special to the two of us. Oh, my. How could I forget such a thing?”

“Maybe that wasn’t it,” I said, sorry that I’d brought it up. “It’s got to be something else.”

I grabbed my handbag and dug out the envelope. I read the address to her. “Does that mean anything?”

“Of course not.”

I nodded. Then I ran my thumb over the stamps. There were four of them: two two-cent stamps with red-headed woodpeckers on them, a ten-cent stamp with an eagle standing on a clock, and a twenty-four-cent stamp with an old-fashioned stunt plane. At least, I assumed it was a stunt plane, seeing as it was upside down.

“Did Robbie collect stamps?”

“Well, I don’t remember. He did love old things. Maybe old stamps.” Then she added, “But it’s been a long time.”

I needed a few minutes on the internet. I didn’t have my computer with me, but I wondered if Matt down in the office might have one I could use. Maybe if I batted my Natalie Portman eyes at him he’d show me his laptop.

When I left our room, I stepped right into the start of a drunken argument between the man and woman staggering toward room number three. Something about his scuzzy friends. He had so much trouble getting the key in the lock that I didn’t hold out much hope for their evening.

Matt was slumped over the counter drinking a soda when I walked
in. He perked up when he saw me. “Hey,” he said. “The room okay?”

“It’s fine,” I assured him. “Would you happen to have an internet connection I could access? Just for a few minutes.” Then I added, “It’s really important.”

He shrugged and gave me a little smile. “Yeah, sure.” He ducked into the dark room behind the counter and returned a moment later with a notebook computer, screen facing me. “It’s wireless. Want me to sign you on to my account?”

“I’d really appreciate it.”

He grinned as he logged onto the computer.

I pictured the stamp, which was in my back pocket along with the envelope it was adhered to, and typed in “stunt airplane postage stamp” and hit the return.

I scrolled down the page, looking for something about an upside down plane and a postage stamp. I tried Googling “upside down airplane postage stamp.”

A few seconds later the page filled with sites. Bingo. I clicked on a promising hit and when the page assembled, there was the stamp. As I read the news story, my breathing slowed, and then the universe slowed, too. Even the chill that gripped my shoulders took its time creeping down my spine.

Matt said something, but I couldn’t make it out.

Was it too late to take back the last four hours?

“You okay?”

I heard Matt that time.

With a nod, I severed the connection and closed the computer. “Thanks, a lot. Just something I needed to check out.” I glanced at my watch. “Pizza ought to be here soon?”

“Sure. I told them to put a rush on it.”

“Thanks.” I managed a smile. “My mother isn’t patient when it comes to pepperoni.”

I walked back to our room, almost oblivious to the sounds coming from unit number three. I had my key in number eight’s lock,
when a firm hand on my shoulder nearly made my knees give way. I sensed it wasn’t the pizza delivery guy.

“We weren’t done yet, Robyn.”

I looked over my shoulder and up at Jack Landis. Something hard dug into my spine. “Open the door.”

I didn’t see that I had a choice.

When we walked in, my mother looked up from the television. “Where’s the pizza?”

Jack pushed me toward the bed and my mother scrunched out her cigarette. “What’s going on?”

Bix had started barking, but was keeping his distance from Landis.

“Don’t worry, Mom.”

She drew the blanket up over her chest and ran flighty fingers through her hair.

“I’ve seen you before,” she said to Jack, but Jack was watching me and, it seemed, Bix, who still wouldn’t come within five feet of him.

“Shut that mutt up,” he said.

I scooped up Bix and held him to my chest. Probably the only reason Landis hadn’t killed my dog was because he didn’t want to fire his gun. Bix started squirming, but I pulled him tighter.

Focusing on me, he said, “You know what I want.” He paused. “Now, hand it over.”

Actually, I did know what he wanted. Now I did. But I figured Jack was as clueless as I’d been up until a few minutes ago.

I decided to play with this and see where it went. “I want the letter,” I said.

“You give me what I need, and you’ll get the letter.”

“Let’s see it.”

He pulled it from his pocket. It was a little rumpled, but my mother must have recognized it because I heard her breath catch. “Your turn,” he said.

“It’s in my handbag.”

“Get it.”

I set Bix on the bed. He jumped to the floor and scooted under it. I dug into my bag and pulled out my key ring. From this, I removed the key to my locker at the gym, slid it off the ring, handed it to Jack, and stuffed the keys into my pocket. He looked at it, turned it over a couple of times, then focused on me.

“It opens a storage unit on the east side of Fowler.”

“What’s in it?”

“Bearer bonds. Worth at least a half million.”

“Really?” It was my mother. I pretended I hadn’t heard her.

“Okay,” he said, turning toward my mother. “Get up, Grandma.”

My mother looked from me to Jack and back again, her mouth opening and closing a couple of times.

“You know what’s going to happen to your mother if I don’t find what I’m looking for.”

Then he added, “And don’t get any bright ideas about calling the police. If I get nervous, she’s dead.”

“Robyn?”

How could I have thought my mother would be safer with me than at Dryden?

I pulled the envelope from my pocket and dropped it on the bed. Without taking his eyes—or his gun—from me, Jack bent down to pick it up.

As he examined the front of the envelope, I said, “That stamp is from 1918. That upside down airplane is called an inverted Jenny. It’s a mistake. One recently sold for more than a half million. I don’t know what the other stamps are worth.”

The smile came to him slowly, and when he started to nod, I knew he believed me. “That’s more like it.” He tucked it into his rear pocket.

I didn’t have time to mourn the loss, because I was too busy wondering how he was going to kill us.

Jack cocked his chin. “What the hell’s that?”

Sassy was awake. Faint bleats wafted in through the window.

I was thinking of how I could use that bleat to my benefit when a sharp rap on the door turned us into a tableau.

“Pizza.”

“Just a sec,” I said before Jack could silence me.

“Tell him to leave it by the door,” Jack whispered.

“He’s going to want money,” I whispered back.

“Cindy?” That was when I realized Matt had brought the pizza.

“Just a sec,” I said again and started to dig through my purse. I couldn’t try anything and risk Jack firing that gun. Too many targets in this room were precious to me.

“Ask him how much,” Jack said.

“How much?” I called.

“Seventeen thirty.” Then he added, “I gave the guy a twenty.”

Jack took a position behind the door, so that I could open it and hand Matt the money in exchange for the pizza. Matt would never know that a former date of mine was holding a gun on my mother.

I folded the bill into my palm, desperately trying to think of some way to tip off Matt. Finding none, I opened the door about a foot.

At that moment, Bix darted out from under the bed and bolted out the door. Sheer reflex drove me out after him. I didn’t want him running out on the road or getting lost. Of course, I didn’t want to leave my mother alone with a murderer, but that didn’t come to me until I heard the door slam shut behind me. What had I done?

I grabbed Bix before he got past the parking lot. When I turned, I saw that Matt had followed me with the pizza. He was laughing a little, perhaps at the sight of Bix under my arm. The door was now locked, of course. So I knocked.

“Mom? Open the door please.”

Nothing.

“Mom?”

Still nothing.

“Mother?”

Just as Matt asked if he should get the key, I heard a click and the
knob turned. The door opened about three inches and I saw a narrow portion of my mother’s face.

“Come out here, Mom.”

She didn’t move.

“Is that man with you?”

I reached in and gently drew my mother out onto the concrete slab, then stepped into an empty motel room. When I turned to my mother, she said, “He went to the bathroom.”

“What’s going on?” Matt said, attempting to take control. “I thought you said it was just your mom and the dog.”

“We had an uninvited visitor.” I walked into the room, past the twin beds and opened the bathroom door. Empty. And a window over the tub was wide open. Just then I heard a car ignition and tires spinning on gravel as they sought traction.

“Want me to call the cops?” Matt was saying.

“No. He’s gone.” Along with the stamp.

My mother came back in and lowered herself onto her bed, almost in slow motion, as though fighting off exhaustion.

I gave Matt the twenty. I wanted to give him a much larger tip, but my cash supply was running low. “Thanks for showing up when you did.”

Stuffing the bill into his pocket, he looked around the room. Then he said, “Did you hear a sheep a minute ago? Could of sworn I heard a sheep.”

I nodded toward Bix. “That’s Bix. He’s a herding dog.”

Matt gave me an uncertain nod, then said, “Give me a call if you need anything, I’ll be in the office.”

“I will. Thanks again.”

After Matt left, my mother leaned her head back against the pillow. I slumped onto the other bed.

“He never gave it to me,” she said. “I think he was... distracted.”

“We’ll get it back.” I didn’t believe this any more than I believed we’d see the stamp again. But it was the only thing to say.

“Was that true what you said about the stamp?” she asked.

I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I just nodded.

“Robbie left that to me.”

She was looking down at her laced fingers.

“I guess he did.”

“He loved me.”

“He must have.”

She sighed. “Thank goodness we don’t need the money.”

I just looked at her.

“Do we?”

“No, Mom. Not yet.”

I opened the carton of pizza, peeled off a slice from the pepperoni side and gave it to my mother.

“I need to get Sassy now. I may be gone for a few minutes, Mom, but don’t worry.”

Fortunately, she was too taken with the pizza to complain about sharing a room with a goat. I watched her picking a slice of pepper-oni off the cheese and popping it into her mouth. I had to get that letter back for her. At the same time, I wondered if it had ever occurred to her that I needed a letter too. One I’d never get. Knowing that my father, my real father, loved my mother enough to send her a valuable stamp after forty-five years felt good. I was glad to know that my mother had that kind of love in her life. But what did he think about me?
Did
he think about me? I guess I spent my life missing the wrong father, though truth be told I didn’t miss him much. How could I? I never knew what it was like to have a father—Wyman wasn’t much in that department—and even if my mother hadn’t lied about him, I doubt I ever could have known Robbie Savage.

I pulled the door shut behind me and locked it. When I returned to the van, Sassy was awake and bleating. He must have gotten scared when he woke to find himself alone because when he saw me, he quieted down. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do this. Finally, I decided to bring him into the room and come back for the crate where I hoped he’d spend the night. I wasn’t sure how smelly goats were, and
I figured I’d blame any odd odors on Bix. He was small, but he could be potent.

I led Sassy out behind the motel, which edged up to a wooded area. I knew he wasn’t housebroken, but I hoped maybe if we hung around long enough, he’d get the urge to relieve himself. I waited. Time really flies while waiting for a goat to pee, but I settled on the ground, and as I watched him nibble at the grass, I thought about where we would all be in twenty-four hours. And, although I tried to ignore it, this obnoxious voice in the back of my head kept reminding me that if I’d noticed the odd stamp sooner, none of this would be necessary. Sassy came over to me, looked at me with his disconcerting eyes and uttered a protracted “Whaaaaa.” And again. “Whaaaaa.” I had some pellets in my pocket, so I dug a few out and held them out to him. With the mouthy request, I expected him to gulp them down and then start yammering for more, but he ate what I offered him with dignified enthusiasm. I stroked his back and rubbed behind his ears. He lowered his eyelids and sighed. We were lucky that Sassy was an easy-going creature; I guess that was one reason he and Blood got along. He went back to grazing, jerking tufts of grass from the ground. And then finally, my patience—or lack thereof—was rewarded. Never thought I’d be so happy to watch a goat relieve itself.