Wish List (15 page)

“ ‘Night, Snookie.”

The shepherd woofed softly, her snoot buried in her own pillow.

It was 4:10 when the house exploded with sound. Ariel leaped from the bed, disoriented, stumbling over Snookie, who was circling the room in a frenzy. A continuous, high-pitched wail bounced off the wall in double time to a shrieking whistle that seemed to be coming from all the doors and windows. She knew instinctively it was the alarm system even though she’d never tested it out. With trembling fingers she punched in the code that should have turned the room silent in the space of two seconds. The wailing and shrieking continued.

“I can’t turn it off,” Dolly screamed from the hallway. “It won’t take the code. Do something, Ariel, or we’ll both be deaf. Get Snookie out of here—this is going to hurt her ears.” She obeyed her own instruction and opened the French doors. Both women stared at the dog as she literally sailed through the open doors. She hit the top of the steps when both feet touched the ground for the second time. Then she was in midair, landing gracefully a split second later. She was a streak of black silver beneath the glow of the floodlights, heading into the darkest reaches of the garden.

“Do something, Ariel.”

Ariel punched in every combination she could think of, but the alarm continued. “Why isn’t the alarm company calling? They’re supposed to call within three minutes.” She was shouting to be heard over the deafening din.

“The phone’s
dead
,” Dolly screamed.

“It’s not
dead
dead. The alarm company freezes it or something for those three minutes. Just wait, the dial tone will come on.” Lord, how desperate her voice sounded.

“It’s been more than three minutes and the line is still dead.” Dolly was bellowing now. “Oh, God, look!”

Ariel ran to the kitchen door. A parade of red, blue and white flashing lights was racing up her driveway. In the lead was a clanging fire engine. She echoed Dolly’s words. The. alarm continued to sound. Both women ran out to the driveway where Ariel pressed the buzzer to open her gates. She threw her hands in the air as she tried to shout above the din, to try and explain she didn’t know what happened to set off the alarm.

And then there was silence. Ariel sighed with relief, as did Dolly.

Ariel tried to explain again in a normal voice that was coming out as a hoarse scream, that they were both asleep when the alarm went off. “Maybe there’s a loose connection or something,” she said lamely.

“Ma’m, you own Able Body Trucking, don’t you?” a young officer said. Ariel nodded, puzzled. Then she recognized him as the officer who had filed the report of her run-in with Chet Andrews.

“Do you think there’s a connection between that to-do and my alarm going off?”

“Anything’s possible. Call your alarm company in the morning and have them come out and check the system. A squirrel could have chewed the wires or they could have gotten wet. It’s as easy to believe that as it is to believe someone tampered with it. You’re sure you paid the bill?”

“Of course I’m sure I paid the bill. I always pay my bills. Squirrels stay in the trees because of the dog. It hasn’t rained in two weeks. My phone is still dead so perhaps you’ll do me a favor and call the alarm company for me. And I’d appreciate it if you’d call the telephone company, too. Dolly will get you the numbers.”

“Phone’s back on,” Dolly said. She held out the receiver so Ariel could hear the dial tone.

“I guess I can make the calls myself, officer. I’m sorry all you men had to come out here. Can we get you anything to eat or some coffee?”

“No, thanks, Ma’m. We’d rather it be a false alarm than a tragedy.”

The women waited until the last cruiser backed through the gates. Snookie stood sentinel, her ears alert, the hair on her back at attention. The moment the gates clicked shut, the dog turned and walked sedately ahead to the house. She waited patiently for Ariel to open the door, then stepped aside and did a brief circle of the terrace before she walked into the house. Satisfied that things were under control, she sprawled out in front of the door. When her huge head dropped to her paws, Ariel relaxed.

Neither woman said a word as Dolly measured coffee into the wire basket of the percolator. Ariel slid thick slices of bread into the toaster. “All we do is eat,” she grumbled. “I just had a fried egg sandwich a few hours ago. I’m going to have to run ten miles on the treadmill today to work this off.” This last was said as she melted butter to spreadable softness in the microwave and scooped wild strawberry jam into a small bowl.

Dolly bit down into the golden toast. “Ariel, did we make a mistake coming here?”

“I don’t know, Dolly. I hope not. You’re referring to the problems at the trucking company, I assume.”

“Everything in general. You don’t look happy. If you aren’t happy, I’m not happy. Snookie is the only positive thing that’s happened since we moved here. I guess what I’m trying to say is if you want to go back to L.A., it’s okay with me.”

“I can’t quit now. That wouldn’t say much for me. Let’s see it through to the end, then make a decision. Besides, who would buy a trucking company with someone like Chet in the background?”

“You did.”

“I didn’t know about him. It was Mr. Able’s place to tell me. Since he chose not to mention it, I have to believe he didn’t think the man would be a problem for me. Of course, I could be wrong. I can even understand him being afraid and not saying anything. Older people deal with fear differently than younger ones. They feel more vulnerable. This just makes me mad.”

“Time to get ready for the day, Ariel. It’s 5:30. Spruce up—Lex Sanders will be at the office. It won’t hurt to put a little of that sinful perfume behind your ears, and I’d wear those drop earrings with the little clusters of pearls. Maybe you should get dressed up today—you know, a tailored suit or maybe that frilly brown and white polka dot dress with the wide leather belt. Not for Lex Sanders, for the feds. They might be more respectful if you appear businesslike. The pink Donna Karan suit. Easy on the makeup.”

“Do you want to pick out my underwear, too?” Ariel snapped.

“Only if you want me to.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Do you want me to call you after the alarm people leave or should I just head for the office?”

“Come to the office. We’re so far behind in our billing it’s going to take us weeks to catch up. The Witherspoons from Georgia are due in this afternoon. They want 25 of our rigs, which will bring us a pretty penny. We need to get our bills out so some revenue comes in. Okay, you take care of things here and I’ll do what I have to do. Sometimes, Dolly, I don’t tell you how much I appreciate you. I do, you know. I can’t imagine what my life would be without you. We’re going to work this out, and things will get back to normal. See you in a bit.” She tapped her leg, a signal that Snookie was to follow her.

Forty minutes later, Dolly said, “You look like a movie star, Ariel Hart. You really look good, my friend. You’re going to have those feds and Lex Sanders eating out of your hand. You eat like a truck driver and as far as I can see, you haven’t put on a pound. That suit looks the same on you as it did back in Hollywood.”

“And on that thought, I’ll leave you. Do I really look good, Dolly?”

“He’s going to eat his heart out. Keep watching his eyes. Eyes are the mirror of one’s soul. I believe that.”

“I’m outta here.” Ariel grinned.

She laughed aloud when she climbed from the Range Rover and heard wolf whistles as the skirt hiked well up her thigh. She gave a thumbs-up salute as she crossed the lot to the office. Seated on the front step was Lex Sanders. She pulled up short, sucking in her breath.

“Breakfast. Doughnuts. Delectable jelly and thumb-licking cream. I had the girl throw in two bagels with cream cheese. Hot coffee, real cream. And napkins. You aren’t going to turn me down, are you? I don’t think there’s anything more . . . appealing than a girl with sugar on her lips.”

Ariel stared at the man on the step dangling the doughnut bag. She wanted to tell him to take a hike, to get off her property for letting a whole month go by without a single phone call. Then she’d deliver some blistering dialogue about holding her personally responsible for his loss. She was going to tell him so, too, to his face. Coldly, of course. Obviously he was going to ignore what she’d said earlier on the phone. Mr. Lex Sanders needed to be put in his place, and she was just the person to do it. She did her best to marshal her thoughts so that when she did start to talk she wouldn’t get flustered. Then he winked at her, the doughnut bag his peace offering.

Ariel laughed, and then giggled and couldn’t stop. Between giggles, she tried to explain her late-night or early-morning breakfasts and the alarm system going out as she fished inside the bag for one of the jelly doughnuts. She really didn’t want the doughnut or the coffee, but she knew she was going to eat and drink because she didn’t want Lex Sanders to walk out of her life. So much for telling him off.

“Winsomeness does not become you. I’ve already had two breakfasts. Those things will kill you,” she said, pointing to the doughnut bag.

“I like that suit. I like your hair like that, too, and you smell sweeter than a summer peach.” He dangled the bag again as he followed her into the office.

“If this is your version of an apology you don’t want to hear what I think of it, now do you?”

“Actually, I do. I was out of line, and I apologize. You’re making me crazy, Ariel Hart. My life was on a steady course until you arrived and turned it upside down. Nobody in this world who knows me would ever say I’m good with women. I probably shouldn’t admit that because it will give you an edge. Neither party should have an edge. It should be what it is—two people being honest with each other. I have some personal baggage I have to deal with. I imagine you do, too. I’m trying to clear mine away in my own way. What exactly am I guilty of, Ariel? Tell me so I don’t do or say it again.”

“You . . . what you did was . . . you led me to . . . it wasn’t nice what you did. We’re adults and should act like adults, not adolescents. I actually thought about going to bed with you, and what do you do? You know what you did and don’t think doughnuts and flattery are going to change a thing. How many jelly doughnuts did you bring?” Sugary lips. God.

“Four. Did you really think about going to bed with me? It’s only 6:15—how could you have had two breakfasts already? I came down early so I could try and explain to you about the jukebox and Coke and bubble gum machines. I wanted to tell you myself why those things mean so much to me. Again, I’m sorry about the things I said. I don’t do things like that. It’s part of . . . you turning my life upside down.”

“I’m not easy—you need to know that.” God, did she just say that?

“I never thought you were. I’m not, either,” Lex said huffily. “I didn’t
ask
you to go to bed, so why were you thinking about it?”

His voice sounds crafty, Ariel thought. “Maybe you didn’t ask me, but you were thinking about it. That’s what men do. Women think about it and then make the decision either to do it or not. It all depends on the moment. Anything else is kind of calculated and then all the spontaneity flies out the window.”

“Spontaneity, huh? Like if I locked the door and suggested we go for it right here on this gorgeous desk? Is that the moment?” He leered at her and couldn’t believe his own words.

“It’s something to think about, but not today. I like to take my time when I make love.”

“I do, too. Imagine that!” He sounded, he realized, like he’d just found the Holy Grail.

Ariel laughed again. She leaned across the corner of her desk until their eyes were level. “Just how much sugar do I have on my lips?”

“Not nearly enough. It’ll do for starters, though. How much do I have on mine?”

“Just enough.”

He kissed her. Ariel strained into him, her lips meeting his. Time stood still for the first time in her life. She wanted more when his lips promised the best was yet to come. Later, she swore kissing Lex Sanders was like drowning in a pool of sweet nectar. She was the first to pull away. She cleared her throat. “I liked that.”

“I can do better under different circumstances. How about dinner this evening at the ranch? Or dinner here in town? I can buy a toothbrush and one of those disposable razors.”

“Dinner here in town. No toothbrush and razor, though. Now, tell me about those machines that were hijacked.”

He told her.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I understand better now. The feds will get them back.”

“This wasn’t a hijacking for money, Ariel. It was done to me personally. Those machines are going to be destroyed. If it was Chet and his cronies, it’s my personal opinion that he’s going to take an ax to them. He might try to sell the tractors or hide them until things calm down. I’ll never get my machines. That’s a given.”

“Can they be replaced? Aren’t there other dealers who specialize in memorabilia like that?”

“All kinds. All over the country. The problem is the owners don’t wilt to part with them. It’s not a question of money. A collector doesn’t think in terms of money. It’s a part of life, the past, memories. Part of my goddamn life I never got to experience. But, to answer your question, maybe in another thirty years. I’ll be eighty and won’t give a damn then. I don’t like what happened at your house. Coming on the heels of the hijacking, I think it’s a warning. I’m willing to bet you five dollars that the alarm company tells you the system was tampered with.”

“That’s a sucker bet. I already figured that out myself,” Ariel said as she fed Snookie pieces of the jelly doughnut. “I also know you can’t accuse someone without proof, and neither one of us has any. Maybe we can hire a private detective to keep Chet under surveillance, and maybe they can track his whereabouts last night and during the time of the hijacking. I’d be willing to split the cost if you think it’s a good idea. I even know a private detective who might be interested.”

“I think it’s a good idea. I’ll be more than happy to split the cost.”

“I’ll call today. I have some work I have to do, Lex. Perhaps you might want to visit with Stan. Sometimes those guys know more than they let on. He might open up to you. By the way, I spoke to Mr. Able last night. Don’t be surprised if he shows up at your door.”