Slim To None (Cedar Tree #1) (2 page)

––––––––

"E
m, you in here?" The door slammed open as Arlene made her usual noisy entrance.

"Kitchen." she hollered back, neither one of them skimping on their volume. No need, since Emma lived a little off the beaten path, just outside Cedar Tree, Colorado. A mere blip on the map as it was, and she still found a dead end dirt road to live on. She liked her privacy, that was to say, as long as there were pretty views to look at, and boy, they didn't come much prettier than the ones here. The back of the house - cottage probably being more appropriate since it was definitely a one-person deal - looked in the direction of Mesa Verde. There were mountains in the distance all the way around. Fragrant sage brush and yucca dotted the front of the house with a wrap around porch to enjoy it all from. Everything was on one level, with a hallway from the front, all the way to the kitchen in the back. Down the middle were the bedroom, a tiny storage closet, and bathroom on the right. To the left of the hallway was the living space. It included a sitting room, a workspace, and a dining area opening up to the kitchen with a counter and stools; all was easily accessible.

Two months ago, Emma moved to Cedar Tree to finally get away from the big city, where the speed of life had finally gotten to her, along with  the stench, bricks, and steel that were everywhere you looked. With her daughter, Kara, grown up and settled, there really wasn't much holding her back. It had been a long time since she had made a choice based on what it was she wanted after a lifetime of putting other people's needs first. What Emma wanted was to move closer to her best friend in the whole world, Arlene Bowers.

Arlene owned and ran the diner in Cedar Tree. They met in an online support group a few years back, and they just clicked. When Emma received a settlement a few years ago, she managed to visit Arlene, and got her first taste of the Four Corners area of Colorado... She was sold. She absolutely loved the area and Arlene instantly, and vowed that if ever given the chance, she'd pack up and move there.

So here there she was, a trailer load and a week's worth of driving. After about two months of settling in, she had her bestie hollering down the hallway.

"Em, I picked up your mail for you since I was in town."

"Thanks, hon. Put it down on the counter, I'll get to it in a bit. You want some coffee? Just made it fresh."

"Yeah, I have time for a cup, but remind me to haul the groceries in that I have in the back of the truck for you. Went into Cortez for supplies and picked up some good deals; I thought you could use a few things."

"Wish you would have told me, Arlene, I would have come with you. I wanted to head in to send a package through FedEx to Kara so it would get there in time for her birthday."

"Why don't you let me bring it into the post office here?" Arlene asked.

Emma snorted, "Seriously? You do remember how long it took for your packages to get to me whenever you sent something, right? Wasn't it you who told me your post office was like the Bermuda Triangle? Some things were never seen again? No thanks, I'll play it safe."

Arlene shrugged. "Fine, I'll be going again in a few days so I'll give you a heads up. You don't want to go in by yourself?"

Emma hesitated, not sure if she should tell her or not.

"Well, it's just... the last few weeks, the few times I've gone into Cortez for my appointments, I got this uncomfortable feeling."

Arlene's eyebrows shot up. "What do you mean, uncomfortable? You don't feel safe driving anymore? Do you need to see a neurologist again?"

"God, no, nothing like that woman. What I mean is that I keep seeing the same truck every time I pull out onto the 160, into Cortez. At least, I think I do. It just seems to be sitting in that emergency stop area, just at the junction where County Road G hits the highway, and I always see it again when I get into Cortez."

"Are you serious?" Arlene looked over, slightly concerned. "That's just creepy. How are you so sure it's the same truck? Never mind, that's a stupid question; forgot for a minute I'm asking Miss Hawkeye here, the only person I know who can spot wildlife three miles away with the naked eye."

"Oh, haha, very funny Arlene. Just because you're blind as a bat and can't spot a bear unless you trip over it...” She took a moment to recall its description. “It's a pretty new and expensive looking truck, nothing like the kind of rust buckets you usually see on the road here, and eh...." she shrugged her shoulders, not really wanting to go into the bizarre phone conversation she had a few weeks ago.

"Spill," Arlene barked out. "I can tell you're sitting on something; you're squirming in your seat, so just spit it the hell out - you know you can tell me anything. For shit's sake, you know more about me than is healthy."

Emma couldn't help but burst out laughing. Arlene could be funny when she tried to be firm; one of the reasons they got along so well. She tried to be all badass, and Emma seemed to be the only one who laughed instead of cowered. Arlene pretended to be pissed off when Emma was not impressed, but secretly, she probably loved that Emma wouldn't intimidate so easily.

"Fine, I'll tell you.... Geeze woman, chill." Emma took a deep breath.

"About two weeks ago I answered the phone to, what I know now was, a wrong number dialed, except the guy on the line didn't hang up."

"What do you mean, he didn't hang up?" Arlene piped up.

"Well, we kind of started talking and ended up... well he started.... I mean... Okay. The deal is, I had phone sex with a complete stranger." She blurted out. With eyes shut tight, Emma couldn't look at Arlene. She was fully expecting a good scolding, but she was met with silence.

Peeking over her shoulder, she saw Arlene bent over the counter, her face a dark shade of purple.

"Jesus, girl. Are you okay?'”

"Fuck me − " Arlene exploded. "Finally! You get some action, and it has had to be from a stranger on the phone? I'm dying here... shit’s too funny!"

"You know what? Kiss my ass, Arlene." Emma chuckled along with her.

It didn't take Arlene long to turn serious, and with her infamous evil eye on Emma, she returned to the topic.

"Are you saying you think this truck has something to do with the phone call?"

"I have no idea. It just seemed like a bit of a coincidence that the truck appeared for the first time the day after the call."

After Emma recounted as much of the conversation as she was comfortable sharing, Arlene assured her she was happy Emma got her "rocks off'’ − her words. Arlene told her they would drive to Cortez together next time in Emma's car, to see if one of them could get a tag number, or something to try and at least get a better description if the truck was there again, and Emma agreed. If that was the case, she'd mention something about it to the sheriff.

Not long after, Arlene brought in the groceries she picked up for her. They discussed the order for the next day, and then she took off with a wave and a yell, "Later, Em!"

She didn't seem overly concerned.

*****

A
little while after Arlene left, Emma finally got a chance to look through the mail Arlene had brought in. She was hoping to find the paycheck from one of her freelance bookkeeping jobs; Great little gigs she had managed to pick up through an online professional posting site, at least great when they paid on time. One guy had not answered any of her emails in weeks, and she hadn't received his check yet. It had only been the second invoice on that contract. Unfortunately, that was one of the risks you took with everything being done digitally and online. All they had was a post office box number in Cortez, and both she and Arlene had a key, so whoever was in town would check to see if anything was there. That way, Emma's privacy was secured, as well.

Ticked about the still missing check, Emma hauled her stool into the kitchen to get some baking done, something she had started doing since coming to town; anything to make an extra buck, so she would bake fresh pies and pastries for Arlene's diner. Since her husband left her five years ago, Arlene had been working like a dog to keep that place going, but even though she had some help, a waitress, and since recently, a short-order cook, she didn't really have time to do much baking anymore. The requests were still there though, so Emma offered to do it for her. She loved baking, but unfortunately, loved eating too.

While she was elbow deep in butter, eggs and flour, Emma let her thoughts slip back to her anonymous caller. He'd been on her mind quite a bit over the last few weeks, getting her all hot and bothered at the most inopportune moments, but leaving her with a smile on her face every time. Dammit. It was stupid that after so many years of feeling more and more unappealing as her body had gone into a slow breakdown, one phone call could make her feel so... desired. Ridiculous,  especially since she knew damn well that whoever it was, would probably be turned off if he ever he saw her in person. If that didn't do it, her list of health issues would surely scare him away; but she couldn't complain,  she had an amazing daughter, wonderful friends, and had chosen a gorgeous spot to live. Other than that, she didn't need much; she'd make do with the romance she got from her Kindle.

*****

F
our hours later, and feeling moderately better, her favorite black yoga pants and hoodie were covered in flour. Why couldn't she ever remember to wear an apron? With already wild enough hair buzzing around her head now even wilder, Emma had three pies, two dozen muffins, and a couple of trays of homemade granola ready. The kitchen looked like a war zone. If only she could put the kitchen, and herself through a high-powered car wash, but the deep cleaning of the kitchen would have to wait. A simple rinse and go would have to do for Emma, since everything needed to get to the diner. The dinner crowd wanted their pies and the rest of the food was for breakfast tomorrow. It was the weekend, so it was always a little busier with families coming in.

Quickly popping pans and utensils into the dishwasher and hand washing her beloved KitchenAid Pro, she shoved the stool back under the counter and grabbed her walker.

Thank God Arlene had known this little one-level house was up for rent. An added bonus was that the owner had renovated the bathroom two years ago for his elderly mother, who had been living here at the time, which meant an accessible shower for Emma. No climbing and clambering over and into slippery bathtubs anymore, which was a good thing, because if she ever fell out here, it could take a while for someone to find her. On a day like today, when she'd already been upright for a few hours, Emma's legs were even wobblier than normal.

Sitting on the bench in the shower, she stripped off her clothes and tossed everything into the laundry basket. Turning on the hot water, she couldn't help the pained grunt that left her mouth. Shit, her body was sore! A quick soap and rinse, and then after a perfunctory towel-dry, she was ready to get dressed for the outside world.
Not her favorite thing
. Give her yoga pants and a hoodie, comfort clothing, any day of the week and she would be a happy girl, but feeling self-conscious enough as it was, she tried to make a little bit of an effort when she stepped outside the door; so jeans and top it was. Ugh. At least she didn't have to wear dainty shoes. She liked bare feet at home, clogs outside in the summer, and Uggs in the winter... Easy. Snorting at herself as she got dressed, she yelled out to no one, “Out of the way, Hot momma coming through.”

Making two trips with the boxes of pies and muffins stacked on the walker to her trusty Ford Escape, and she was ready for town... well, sort of... her hair was still wet. Oh well, she'd just stick her head out the window.

––––––––

"W
hat can I get ya?" The tall blonde waitress with a friendly smile and a face sprinkled with freckles, shook Gus out of his thoughts.

"Coffee, black please, and if you have it, a slice of pie."

"Coffee'll be right up, and fresh pie should be here in a few. Expecting a delivery any minute, and I'll be able to tell you your choices then."

"Sounds good," he said with a nod.

Gus turned back to the window, contemplating his next move now that he was finally in Cedar Tree. After getting a number off Corbin's hard drive two weeks ago, a hot lead had come in from Albuquerque on the case, and he had spent his time chasing down a bunch of dead ends there. Liaising with the local police department, he worked to see if anything additional could be stirred up from any of their street sources. If Corbin had been there, he had long since left; He was a step behind again. It was getting frustrating, being on this bastard's tail, but never quite getting quite close enough. Ernst Corbin was a lynchpin in the case against crime boss Bruno Silva. He had agreed to collect some additional, specific information to solidify the joint departmental task force case against Silva, in return for a reduced charge for himself. Corbin had been picked up a few months ago on fraud charges and was let go on bail, after agreeing to the deal with the DA's office. Just a few weeks later, he had vanished without a trace, and that was when Gus had been called in. After retiring from the police force, he had started his own business, running down bail jumpers and doing investigative work. His many contacts within the police force kept him pretty busy, and his great tracking record and knowledge of the area was what got him asked in on this case.

There wasn't much to go on. The only thing left was the evidence the police still held in the original fraud case against Corbin, which included his hard drive. On that hard drive, they discovered the email and attached IP address for an online bookkeeping service he had contacted under a fake corporate name shortly before his arrest. Gus's techie wunderkind, Neil, had been able to trace that email, and address, back to a PO Box number in Cortez, which in turn, provided them with the phone number here in Cedar Tree.

So here he was, sipping on the strong black coffee the friendly waitress had slid before him moments ago, trying to come up with a good plan of approach; one that would get him in the door without raising any suspicion.