Play Dead (13 page)

Russell crossed his arms and glared at
Tracy.

She grabbed Joel’s arm and gave him a tug
toward the door. “Joel, you’ve got her number; call her sometime. And Russell,
if I were you, I’d get myself a pooch if you want to win that chick’s heart.”
She swept out the door, closely followed by Joel.

The resulting quiet seemed to turn the
room into a vacuum. Russell turned toward me and asked, “How do you feel about
goldfish?”

I excused myself from Russell’s company,
ushered both dogs into my car, and drove to my mother’s house. My mother
absolutely loves large dogs, and I knew she’d be happy to dogsit Sage for a
while. I just wish I’d had the chance to call first. My unexpected visitors had
distracted me.

I left Sage in the car so that I could
prepare my mom. We went through a repeat of yesterday’s routine on my mother’s
doorstep. Doppler was so eager to greet Pavlov that I stepped inside so he
could come in, too. Then I said, “I have a bit of a surprise for you.”

I went back out to the car and opened the
door. Sage hopped out. My mother had followed me onto the blond brick front
porch. She took one look at the collie and said, “Sage.”

“His owner was killed and he needs a
temporary home.”

“But I thought she died several weeks ago.”

“I don’t mean Hannah Jones, I mean Beth
Gleason. Somebody stabbed Beth to death early this afternoon.” My mother gasped
in horror, as I continued, “Sage came to my office and found me. I can’t think
of where else to keep him, at least not till I can find a new place to live.” I
winced, realizing I’d just blurted that I was shopping for new living quarters.

Mom, however, was so transfixed by the dog
as she ran her hands over him that she didn’t take any notice. “My goodness, he
has been through a lot, hasn’t he? He’s all skin and bones.” She opened the
door, and the three of us went inside.

“He’s starting to eat again. If you can
just feed him”— I hesitated as I tried to decide how I wanted this
done— “the same amount you give Pavlov, he should be all right. It’s the
dog brand he’s used to. But if he seems hesitant or afraid to eat it, you might
want to hand feed him the first couple of kibbles.”

Judging from the sounds, Doppler was
lapping water from Pavlov’s bowl in the kitchen. Pavlov wanted to investigate
Sage. The dogs circled one another, getting each other’s scents. They trotted
off shoulder to shoulder into the kitchen, and I silently congratulated myself
on my decision to bring him here. A wonderfully even-tempered German shepherd
was exactly the right companion for Sage after his traumatic day.

“They get along great,” Mom said. “Good
thing Pavlov was spayed. We’d have ourselves collie-shepherd puppies.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind? I don’t know
how long it will take till I can guarantee a good home for him. Could be as
much as a month or two.”

She smiled, patting some loose strands of
her long braid. “Some mothers babysit their grandchildren. I babysit my
children’s dogs. It’s better than nothing.” She gave me a visual once-over. “You’d
better hurry home, hadn’t you, sweetie?”

“Why?”

“Don’t you remember? You have a date with
one of my flying students. Keith Terrington. We set this up two weeks ago.”

“Oh, no! That’s tonight? I’m not up to it.
Do you have his number? I’ll call and explain.”

“Allida, I hate to force you to do
anything you don’t want to do, but—”

“Since when?”

Undaunted, she continued, “But I have to
insist you go ahead and at least explain things to him face-to-face. Just like
you and that...louse you were engaged to, his wife ran off with one of his best
friends. In fact, he reminds me of you.”

“Then why would I want to date him? I’d
have to have some psychological problem to want to date a man my mother thinks
is a male counterpart of me.”

Mom met my eyes and said evenly, “Knock it
off, Allie. He’s a wonderful man. You’re perfect for each other.”

She’d called me “Allie.” I probably had
the only mother on the planet who addressed me by my nickname only when she was
starting to get annoyed with me. “Not tonight, we’re not. The only thing that’s
perfect for me tonight is a good book, a fireplace, and a dog at my feet.”

“That may be true, Allie, but I had to do
a lot of cajoling to convince Keith to...This is not coming out right. My point
is, after what happened to your client, I’d feel a lot safer knowing you were
with Keith tonight.” Mom looked puzzled for a moment. “Did you just say you
were looking for a new place to live?”

“I’d better get going, Mom. Thanks for
watching Sage.” I started to open the door, then thought better of it. “I’d
better check on him before I go.”

Pavlov, I discovered, was patiently
waiting to be let out back. Sage, however, was the epitome of the “hangdog”
expression, no longer paying attention to Pavlov or Doppler but lying
listlessly in the kitchen.

“Hey, Sage, that’s a good dog,” I said. He
didn’t look up, and I sensed he knew I was about to desert him. “You’ll be
happy here. Pavlov and Mom are great company.”

“Thanks for giving me second billing,” my
mother said.

I smiled at her and opened the door for
Pavlov, who took off at a dead run for the fence, letting out her guard dog
woofs.

There, a white sedan was just pulling away
from the curb alongside the chain-link fence.

Leaving the door open behind me, I charged
across the lawn to get the car’s license plate, but soon realized the driver
had had too much of a head start. Sage rushed past me and joined Pavlov in
barking as they ran along the length of the fence.

“Mom,” I cried as I rushed back inside, “there’s
a white sedan just now driving off.” I waggled my thumb over my shoulder in the
direction of the road and struggled to catch my breath. “It was parked by the
fence till the dogs started barking. It was here yesterday around this time,
too. Have you ever noticed it?”

She studied my features and said in a
deadpan voice, “A white car was parked on County Line Road two nights in a row?
Should we alert the National Guard?”

I gritted my teeth. “Mom, Beth Gleason was
murdered today after claiming on the radio that her dog witnessed Hannah Jones’s
murder. I suspect I’m being followed, and Beth’s dog is currently in your
backyard, barking at the very same car I think has been following me!”

She paled. “When you put it that way, it
sounds terrible. I think I liked my version better.”

“Mom, you—”

She held up her palms. “Sheriff Millay is
a friend of mine. I’ll call him this minute, tell him about this, and ask that
he drive by the house every so often. How should I describe the car?”

“A white four-door sedan. I never got a
good look at it. But let me tell the sheriff that myself when I—”

“You’ve got to get going back to Boulder.
I’ll do the talking to the sheriff.”

“But, I can’t leave Sage here under these
circumstances. I’ll get one of my friends from high school to take him for
a—”

“Sage will be fine. I’ll keep him inside,
in my bedroom tonight. Now quit stalling and get home so you can meet Keith
Terrington while you’re both still young.”

“I’m not stalling! This is important! You
and Sage could be in danger!”

“Fine. You’ve convinced me.” She threw up
her hands and marched to the phone. “I
will
go ahead and alert the
National Guard. Just bear in mind, Allie, that I am still your mother and I am
still in charge of making my own decisions.”

“True, and
I’m
an adult and am in
charge of making
my
own decisions!”

She gestured at me to leave with a flick
of her wrist, but started dialing with her other hand. “So go make them, rather
than dawdling around here. Sage, Pavlov, and I will be fine.”

Doppler had trotted back beside me, and I
realized that in my haste, I hadn’t even shut the back door. I was too angry
now to care. “Doppler, heel,” I said, as usual not bothering with the leash. “Fine,
Mother. I give up. I’m going, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I strode out
the door, Doppler a step behind me.

As I closed the door behind Doppler, Mom
called in a cheerful voice, “Have fun on your date, sweetie.”

I drove home in an indescribably foul
mood, furious with my mother for treating me like a child. How dare she accuse
me of trying to turn my spotting of the white sedan into a stall tactic to miss
my date? That certainly wasn’t true, at least not on a conscious level, and
even if it were true, it was my business if I was late for a date. Whoever this
Keith Terrington was, I was determined to hate him on sight.

My mother had never set me up on a date
before. That’s precisely why last week I’d agreed to do this in the first
place, having reasoned that this guy must really have something going for him.
Now, however, I was more inclined to attribute the whole thing to a strong
force of mother nature: my mother’s determination to have grandchildren nearby.

I drove below the speed limit the whole
way to Boulder, seriously considering stopping. Maybe I should double back and
drive around Mom’s house, checking for suspicious white sedans myself. But what
would I do if I did find one? Ram it?

Still pondering the issue, I arrived at my
house. A blue sporty-looking Mazda was parked out front. I parked, checked my
rearview mirror and messed up my hair a little, promising myself that no matter
what, I would not apologize for being late, but would explain that the date was
off, due to some troubles I’d experienced today that were beyond my control.

Resolved, I walked inside, followed by
Doppler, and found my roommate flitting over the most attractive man I’d seen
in ages. He had straight, light-brown hair about the same shade as mine, and
the bluest eyes I’d seen this side of Paul Newman, with a body and face to
match. He wore a sports jacket over a teal-colored T-shirt and faded denims.
With his broad shoulders and tapered waist and hips, he could wear that same
wardrobe on the cover of
GQ
and get no argument from me.

Kaitlyn’s smile faded a little as she
looked away from him—they shared seats on the couch, practically sharing
the same cushion, as well—and said in a voice dripping with regret, “Here
she is now.”

The man endeared himself to my heart by
meeting my eyes only briefly, then smiling at Doppler. “What a handsome cocker
you’ve got there,” he said. He called, “Here, boy.” Despite years of training,
Doppler leapt onto his lap in an amazing display of instant affinity for the
man.

“You must be Keith Terrington,” I said in
a dazzling display of wit. “I’m Allida Babcock. I’m sorry that I’m so late.”

“That’s quite all right. Your mother’s
said a lot of wonderful things about you.”

“Yes, but she feels genetically obligated.”
I searched my memory for what Mom had told me about Keith. As I recall, she’d
said of his appearance that he was “reasonably handsome, with brown hair and
blue eyes.” She was right about the hair and eyes. But if this was “reasonably
handsome,” Albert Einstein was reasonably intelligent.

He gave me a killer smile and asked, “Are
you ready to go?”

“Not quite.” I turned to head for my room
and heard myself say, “I just need a minute to freshen up.” I rolled my eyes as
I reached my bedroom.
Freshen up?
I sounded like an ad for a
feminine-hygiene product. In record speed, I changed into a denim shirtdress
and leather boots with sizable heels, then set about repairing the damage the
day had done to my makeup and hair.

I’m insecure enough that I prefer to date
men I consider either roughly equivalent to my looks or slightly more flawed. I
hate to have waitresses ogle my dates and then tell other waitresses, “He must
be on a blind date,” which would be true tonight. That makes me sound paranoid,
but I waitressed during college and partook of many a barb with my fellow
employees about couples at the restaurant.

“All set,” I said while I cinched my best
belt around my waist and returned to the living room. I hoped that, despite my
frenetic pace, I could refrain from panting.

Kaitlyn was still sitting inches away from
Keith on the couch, and Doppler grudgingly got off Keith’s lap to examine my
new outfit and see if he could shed on it.

“You’re going to be proud to hear that I
accepted a date of my own tonight,” Kaitlyn announced to me, then focused on
Keith. “My husband and I are separated, but Allida here doesn’t think that a
little thing like a broken heart should interfere with my social life.”

Keith raised an eyebrow at me.

“That’s not a direct quote,” I said in my
defense. In point of fact, my lone suggestion had been for her to think about
seeing someone new, but no sense quibbling over semantics. “Anybody I know?” I
asked Kaitlyn, just to be polite, for the only man she’d ever mentioned to me
was her virtual reality husband.

“No, I just met him today. Just after you
left, in fact. I was sitting out on the porch, and he happened to be lost and
asked me for directions. We hit it off, and he asked me out.”