Vendetta (8 page)

“No, too much brush. Don’t even think about asking me to climb another tree. We have to get out of here.”

“I can’t leave my car there. I want to wait till the trainer leaves. I don’t think he called the police. He’s probably checking everything outside. For all he knows a stray cat or even a fox could have gotten in. He’s not going to want to make waves with the cops over something like that. Shhh, I hear a car engine.”

A black Lincoln Navigator crawled down the driveway, the driver scanning both sides of the road. In the dense underbrush, Jack’s heart pumped furiously. His sigh of relief when the Navigator passed was so loud that Conway clamped his hand over Jack’s mouth.

Within minutes, Jack had the evergreens thrown aside and was behind the wheel. He backed out to the gravel road and then got out of the car. He looked down at his license plate, gave a mighty tug, and the screws came loose. He threw the plate in the back seat and barreled down the road.

He saw the Navigator just as the driver spotted him. Jack backed up, thanking God they were the only two vehicles on the road, and stormed away in the opposite direction. The Navigator gave chase but Jack had taken more than one defensive driving course during his stint with the prosecutor’s office. He lost the huge
SUV
within ten miles by peeling off and going down secondary roads to meet roads that were little more than paths. He was back out on the highway, headed in the opposite direction, before the guy in the Navigator knew what had happened.

When he finally made it to the store-front office, Jack collapsed into his swivel chair. “Get me something to calm me down. I don’t even care if it’s Valium. You aren’t going to fucking believe what I have to tell you, Mark.”

Mark handed Jack a frosty bottle of Michelob. “Jack, I believe everything you tell me no matter how unbelievable it sounds. What the hell happened?”

Jack told him. “I have to go back, but I can’t do it till morning when that guy picks up the dogs. My biggest worry is did he call the cops. I’m inclined to think he didn’t. He did give chase but he didn’t see me. I gotta tell you, Mark, something made me rip off that license plate. Talk about gut feelings and sixth senses. I’d be behind bars right now if I hadn’t done that. The bastard was just out there on the side of the road,
waiting
.”

The only thing Mark heard were the words “I have to go back.
”
Don’t you think that guy or the cops will be out there tomorrow morning? How do you think you’re going to get in and out again?”

Jack’s fingers raked his hair. “Not the way I got in today, that’s for sure. I’ll go in the way Conway goes in and jump the fence back by the barn where the ground dips. I can do it, Mark, so get that look off your face. I’m doing it. I found it! I know that button on the carving is the way they go in and out. I saw it through the magnifying glass. I’m not wrong. I was
that
close and then had to split.
That
close, Mark. Damn, I’d go back there right now if those damn dogs weren’t there.”

“That’s definitely not an option at the moment. Let me read up on those directions again. Maybe I can turn off the gates from Conway’s spot or by coming up toward the house from the other side. Maybe there’s a way to modify the gray box. I’m going with you and I think we should take Conway with us. By the way, where is he?”

“I sent him home. He’s spooked. Besides, even with all his body warmers, it’s forty-four degrees outside. Give him a call and tell him to meet us out there at seven.”

“What if the architect shows up?”

“Call the guys to make sure that doesn’t happen. All we need is an hour in that house, Mark. We’re going to need a good camera.”

Mark groaned as he opened a second bottle of beer for Jack and one for himself.

Jack held his bottle aloft. “Here’s to the word surprise!”

“Bull
shit
! Here’s to a prison cell and no bail!”

“I’m not drinking to that!”

Mark started to laugh and couldn’t stop. “Then you’re a bigger asshole than I thought you were.” Before they knew what was happening they were both rolling on the floor, pummeling one another, laughing their heads off.

Kathryn Lucas sat across the table from Myra, her thoughts running in all directions as she watched Myra gobble down what Kathryn called truckers’ home-cooked food.

“This is so wonderful, so tasty. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much grease at one sitting. I can’t wait to tell Charles.”

Kathryn grinned. “Are you going to tell him you heard your arteries snap shut?”

“I think I’ll leave that part out. I am so glad you invited me along. I haven’t done anything this exciting in twenty years. Charles is never going to believe I went on this little road trip. You don’t happen to have a camera, do you, dear?”

“Nope, but we can buy a throwaway one at the register when we pay our bill. Posterity, huh? I’m so glad you’re enjoying the thrill of the open road.”

“What I like is the camaraderie. You seem to know everyone. Are your colleagues always this friendly?”

“Yes, and every single one of them would drop what they’re doing to help another trucker. Remember how they blocked the highway that time Jack Emery sent out an
APB
on me? Believe it or not, Myra, the truckers could bring the country to a standstill if they wanted to. They’re good, hard-working people trying to earn a living to support their families. It’s not an easy life, nor is it a glamorous one. Did you have fun talking to them on the horn?”

“Absolutely. I wish I could meet them in person sometime. Do you think they’d remember me?”

“Hey, if you want an invitation to the Truckers’ Ball, I can arrange it. It’s always held in the spring.”

“I would love to attend. I’ll send back my
RSVP
the minute I get the invitation.”

Kathryn laughed. “It doesn’t work that way. We just get on the horn, pass the word and everyone shows up at a designated truck stop. Each year it’s held at a different place.”

“Be sure to count me in as a yes. Can I bring Charles?”

“Absolutely. Speaking of Charles, shouldn’t he have called us by now?”

Myra tipped her Redskins cap further back on her springy curls. “I was thinking the same thing. I’m sure he’s calling the house and leaving messages. Maybe his cellphone doesn’t work in China.”

“Well, hi there, gorgeous!” a jolly voice said.

Myra and Kathryn both looked up to see a giant of a man towering over them. Murphy was licking at his hand. Myra assumed the comment was made to Kathryn and said, “She is beyond gorgeous.”

“Not her! She’s too young and skinny for my taste. ’Sides, she’s young enough to be my granddaughter and this dog of hers is a killer, as you can see. I was talking to you, honey.”

Myra was so flustered she knocked her glass of water over. In her haste to mop up the spill with paper napkins she sent her breakfast plate flying off the table. The giant caught it with one hand that was as big as a ham hock.

“How about having a cup of joe with me, sweet cheeks?”

“Why I…That is so…Do you really think I’m gorgeous?” Myra asked boldly, her cheeks flaming pink.
Sweet cheeks!
She realized suddenly that the giant was staring at her sweatshirt. She tried to hunch her shoulders so he couldn’t read the words.

“Takes a lot to earn a shirt like that. Introduce me to your partner, Sis.”

“Was wondering when you were going to get around to that. Stop being so nice to my dog. I saw that bacon you slipped him. Merry Widow, meet Big Bear. Bear, meet the gorgeous Widow.”

The giant reached for Myra’s hand and brought it to his lips. “This day will stay in my mind forever.” Murphy howled so loud the other diners stopped eating to see what the commotion was all about.

“The pleasure…the pleasure is all mine, Bear.” Myra gulped.
Oh God, Charles, you are never going to believe this!

“
Where you headed, Bear?” Kathryn asked.

“I’m off for thirty-six. Just unloaded kitchen appliances at Home Depot. I go north to the mountains at the end of the thirty-six, how about you?”

“I’m picking up twenty thousand Christmas trees that go up the Eastern Seaboard, then home till after the holidays. See ya next year.”

But Bear wasn’t finished yet. He eyed Myra and bent over to whisper something in her ear. Myra smiled. “I’ll be sure to save a spot on my dance card for you…ah…Bear.” Murphy howled again. This time the customers ignored his outrage.

“Time to go, Myra,” Kathryn said. She placed a twenty-dollar bill under the salt shaker and said, “These girls work hard for their money. Now, are you sure you don’t want to pay the five bucks to take a shower and put on some clean duds?”

“No, dear, I’m fine.” Myra looked around the busy truck stop. Steam billowed up from the grill as waitresses and cooks shouted to one another. The truckers joined in, adding quick fixes for certain recipes. It was a friendly atmosphere. The red Formica table tops with the cracked leather booths added character to this thriving place on the road to nowhere. Myra enjoyed every minute, especially eating the greasy food that was so delicious, she’d asked for seconds.

As they wound their way through the crowd of truckers Kathryn was stopped a dozen times. Some of the truckers she hugged, some she shook hands with, some she patted on the back. The smile never left her face as she talked and laughed with them. It was easy to see that she was well liked. Myra felt proud to walk alongside her.

They were almost at the door when Kathryn heard her name called. She turned to see one of the weary waitresses rush up to her. “I didn’t know you were here, Kathryn. It’s been a madhouse here all day. Listen, yesterday word came down that Curly Cue’s wife was in a bad car accident. They’re on one of those shitty HMOs and they’re going to need some help. We’re taking up a collection.”

Kathryn and Myra both emptied out their pockets.

“Miss, do you have a pencil?” Myra asked. The waitress looked at her but handed over her pencil and a slip from her order booklet. Myra scribbled Nikki’s name, the name of her law firm, and the phone number. “This is my daughter and she distributes money from a defunct
HMO
. She’ll be glad to help you. Call her in two days. I’ll talk to her myself when we get home. Tell Curly Cue and his wife not to worry, everything will be taken care of.”

The waitress looked over at Kathryn to see if Myra was blowing hot air. Kathryn nodded. “Be sure to do it, Arlene. Tell Curly Cue I said merry Christmas. See ya next time I come this way.”

Outside in the frosty Oregon air, Myra took off her baseball cap and slapped it against her leg the way she’d seen the other truckers do. Kathryn giggled all the way to the gas pump where she inserted her credit card to pay for the gas. “Thank God for plastic. Thirty more minutes and we load the trees and head for home. You tired, Myra?”

She was, but she wouldn’t admit it for the world. “Not at all, dear. Do you think we should try calling Charles again? And Isabelle. She should have called us. Dear Lord, I hope nothing is wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong. Charles allowed for everything and anything. Isabelle, now, that’s a different story. Soon as we get out of this zoo and on the road, I’ll call her again. I’m sure there are at least a dozen messages on your answering machine at home. Are you sure you can’t retrieve the messages by phone?”

“I’m sure. It’s just an old-fashioned answering machine that sits next to the phone. Nikkiwanted me to get voicemail but you have to remember so many numbers, I decided I didn’t need it. Now, of course, I wish I had. I do hope Charles isn’t upset. If I had been thinking clearly before we left, I could have put a new message on the machine. Oh, well, there’s no point in worrying about it now. That man Bear called me sweet cheeks. That was so…sweet of him. He was flirting with me. At my age. Don’t tell Charles, but I loved it. Just loved it.”

“I know. You pinked up pretty good back there. Bear is a honey. He loves classical music, goes to the ballet when he can. He has season tickets to the opera but rarely gets to go. And he reads romance novels by the dozen. Actually, he listens to them on tape. He said he’s learned more from them than from actual real-life situations. He claims that if the right woman ever falls in his lap he’ll know just how to treat her. The funny thing is, he means it. OK, here’s the cellphone. Call Isabelle.”

Myra pressed in the number and listened to it ringing. “A voice is asking me if I want to leave a message. I’m to press one if I do…Isabelle, dear, please call Kathryn as soon as you can. We’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday. We’re on the road, about to pick up the Christmas trees. I’ll leave the cellphone on and wait for your call.”

“That’s not like Isabelle,” Kathryn said. “I wonder if…Maybe something
is
wrong, Myra. Isabelle is conscientious, so it’s not like her not to call. See if you can get her regular home phone number from the information operator. She lives in Arlington.”

Myra did as instructed. Then her shoulders slumped. “Isabelle has an unpublished number and they won’t give it out. I have her number at home in my Rolodex but that won’t do us any good. What should we do, Kathryn?”

“There’s nothing we can do, Myra, until we get home or Charles calls us. I have an idea. I can drop you off at the nearest airport and you can fly home. Take a car service from the airport. We both have to get at least three or four hours’ sleep. You can be home in that amount of time. That’s if you’re really worried. If not, we’ll continue as we are.”

“No, no, Kathryn, I’m staying with you.”

“OK then, there’s the depot, and they’re waiting for us. Wait till we’re back on the road to make the call. It won’t take long to load the trees. We’ll be out of here in about an hour. Stretch your legs while I check the manifest. Stay, Murph,” she ordered the German shepherd before she jumped out of the truck to unlock the back. She shoved the door up. “We’re going to be smelling balsam all the way home.”

Myra trotted around, trying to look like she knew what she was doing. This was such an adventure and she wanted to savor every minute of it. Until she’d gone on the road with Kathryn she hadn’t realized how boring her life was. Even with the Sisterhood, and that her own revenge was finally underway, something was missing. Not that hitting the road in an eighteen-wheeler was the answer, but it did shake away her doldrums.