Lacy's End (24 page)

“Why don’t we both go,” Lacy said, pulling Angela’s arm and nodding her head repeatedly toward the cooking duo as if she had a tic.

“I don’t want to go swimming…” Angela began, breaking off as she caught Lacy’s meaning. “I sure could use a little sunshine, though.”

They ran off, giggling. Brenda shook her head, pretending not to know what they were planning. “Taste this,” she said, popping a triangular corn chip into his mouth.

His eyes flew open wide as he cried, “Water.”

She laughed. “That’s the jalapenos. A little too much I’m guessing. I’ll cut it back.”

He shook his head. “No. It’s perfect. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Allen got down two trays, and they began to put the appetizers on them. Then they carried them out to the pool. Lacy immediately jumped from the water, dried her hands, and began to devour the treats. “I can’t believe I’m this hungry after all I ate for breakfast,” she said.

“You’re swimming it off,” Brenda reminded her.

A chime sounded, and Barney began barking.

“I wonder who that could be,” Allen said. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

He disappeared into the house, reappearing a moment later with a middle-aged, well-dressed but slightly overweight woman. She carried a small dog that wagged his tail with so much vigor the woman could barely contain her. “This is Florence Howell,” Allen said. “She lives next door.”

Florence smiled, put her dog on the ground, and watched as the two dogs chased each other around in a circle. “Candy does so love Barney,” she said as if it weren’t evident from the way they played. She turned her attention to Allen. “I do apologize for intruding on your little party, Allen dear, but I’m in one hell of a pickle, and I’m so hoping you can help me out.”

“I’ll certainly try,” he said, wondering how he possibly could be of any help. Despite the fact they were neighbors, they weren’t even close to moving in the same social circles.

“You see, Allen, dear, I have this huge,” she spread her arms wide, “soiree planned for tomorrow evening. And I’ve just been informed my usual caterer has come down with a case of food poisoning—I warned her about buying those imported shrimp.” She shook her head at Brenda as if it were she who had purchased the shrimp. “She wouldn’t listen to me, and now I have a house full of people scheduled and I don’t have a menu.”

Allen looked puzzled. “I don’t see how I can help with that, Florence. I’m a doctor, not a caterer. The only thing I could do is treat your caterer’s food poisoning, but even then I’m afraid she wouldn’t recover in time.”

Florence waved him off. “No, no, dear. She’s already seen a doctor for that. Besides, I’m not sure I’d trust her food supply after being sickened by it herself.” She rolled her eyes. “I have a reputation to uphold, you know.”

Allen nodded, tried to hide a smile. “Yes, I suppose you do,” he said. “Again, Florence, I don’t see how I can help.”

She sighed and shook her head. “I was hoping…” She suddenly noticed the dogs had collapsed near the water dish and smiled at how cute they were. Suddenly, her smile fell as a thought came to mind. “That is fresh water in that dish, isn’t it, Allen?”

“Of course, Florence,” he said, doing his best to hide a grin. It was a lie. He hadn’t changed the dog’s water since the morning before yesterday, but she didn’t need to know that. “The party…” he prompted.

She nodded and continued. “Yes, of course, the party. Well, seeing how I’m without a caterer for tomorrow and since you…uh hum...” She cleared her throat, “hardly ever use your caterer, I thought I might borrow her.”

She saw Allen about to protest and rushed on, “I promise to use her only for tomorrow evening. I wouldn’t even think of stealing her away from you—that wouldn’t be at all neighborly now, would it?”

“I was going to say I don’t have a caterer.”

She spotted the plate of appetizers and then eyed him suspiciously. She pointed at the tray. “Do you mind, terribly, dear? I’ve been in meetings all day and haven’t had a thing to eat.” He indicated she should help herself. She picked up a stuffed mushroom, took a small bite of it, and her eyes grew round. She held the mushroom out for inspection, exclaimed, “Oh dear!” Then she stuffed the rest of the mushroom into her mouth and reached for another. When she finished eating that one, she reached for a chip with the jalapeno topping. She nibbled this, and her eyes rolled in ecstasy. She laughed suddenly and waved her hand in front of her mouth. “A bit of a kick, but so delicious,” she said. She spotted a pitcher of lemonade and poured herself a glass.

When she had downed the glass in a most unladylike manner, she narrowed her eyes at Allen. “Allen, I thought we were friends—and here you are feeding me the moon, just so you won’t have to share your secret. I absolutely promise not to steal her away from you.” She put her hand behind her back, crossing her fingers so she wouldn’t be telling a lie.

Allen laughed and shook his head. “I’m not lying, Florence.” He nudged Brenda forward. “Here’s your caterer.”

Brenda stood in front of the woman, lost at what to do—so she just smiled.

“Wonderful, dear,” Florence said. “Whatever he’s paying you I’ll double.” She looked around Brenda and smiled apologetically at Allen. “Sorry, dear. I know what I promised, but keeping this girl all to yourself is purely selfish. I insist you share her with me.”

Brenda shook her head. “I’m not a caterer. I’ve never cooked for anyone but my own family.”

“Nonsense dear, the ruse is up. Come on, what will it cost me to,” she looked at Allen, then back at Brenda, “borrow you for the evening? One thousand?” Brenda blinked twice. Florence cocked her head. “Two thousand?” Brenda’s mouth dropped open. “All right,” Florence said. “Three thousand. That’s a generous offer, and you know it.”

Brenda started to shake her head no, but Lacy rushed to her side. “How big is the party?”

“Small dinner party, twenty guests,” Florence said.

“You can do that, Mom. Remember Misty Holbrook’s wedding? They must have had at least sixty people there.”

“That was at church, Misty was a friend, and I had lots of help.”

“I’ll help,” Lacy said.

“I’ll help, too,” Angela said.

Allen spread his hands. “We’ll all help.”

Brenda bit her lip, thinking,
three thousand dollars is a lot of money.

“Come on, Mom,” Lacy urged.

Brenda smiled. “Okay,” she said, and they all cheered.

“Wonderful,” Florence said. She looked at Allen and positively glowed with gratitude. “Thank you, Allen. You’re back in my good graces.”

Allen rolled his eyes. “Gee—I was worried for a moment.”

Ignoring him, she turned back to Brenda. “My guests will arrive at seven, so you could setup at six. We’ll eat at seven-thirty, but please have appetizers circling beforehand.”

“Circling?” She turned to Allen, panicked. “How am I supposed to serve and cook at the same time? I’m not equipped for this. I don’t know a thing—”

“I’ll circle,” Lacy said, placing a hand on Brenda’s arm. She whispered, “We can do this together.” She grinned at Brenda. She turned to Florence. “An extra two hundred to circle.”

Florence snorted but grinned. She pointed a long manicured nail at Lacy but looked at Brenda. You may be the cook, but this one here has the head for business. She sighed. “All right, two hundred to circle. I’ll see myself out, Allen.”

Brenda and Lacy turned to each other and squealed. “I got a job!” Brenda said, dancing in place.

“You’re an entrepreneur,” Lacy corrected. “By the way,” she said as she dove into the pool and resurfaced. “The two hundred is for you to buy yourself something nice to wear when Allen takes you out.”

“Lacy!” Brenda exclaimed, but when she glanced at Allen, he was grinning.

Peter watched the three women leave the apartment and wondered where they were headed on a Saturday morning.
Maybe shopping
, he thought to himself. A sudden thought entered his head—
had he canceled Brenda’s credit card?
He relaxed. She knew she wasn’t allowed to use the card unless it was an emergency. In fact, he couldn’t recall a single time when she had used the card. Peter calculated how much money she would need every month and doled out only that amount.

He followed them to some downtown diner and patiently waited while they ate. He listened to his portable police scanner—always keeping track of his unit. There were no calls for suspicious persons in this neighborhood on the radio.

When Charlie had escorted him from the apartment to his car two weeks ago, the jerk actually had wanted to run him in for violating the stupid restraining order. It wasn’t his or anybody else’s goddamned business if he wanted to check and make sure his family was okay. Good thing Charlie’s meddling days were over.

He thought about the meddling doctor and couldn’t decide how he had even gotten involved in this situation. It seemed as though he just magically appeared one day. No doubt, it had something to do with the volunteer work he had given Brenda permission to do. In fact, It seemed to him this was when the whole thing began. The fact that his own wife had betrayed him like that infuriated him. After all his generosity, how could she?

Even Lacy seemed to have betray him. His own daughter! Because of that damn restraining order, he had to watch her from a safe distance. “Got to watch that restraining order,” he mimicked, thinking back to the day of Charlie’s warning. He waited across the street from the school, hoping to catch Lacy as she began her walk home. To his surprise, though, she hadn’t walked home. She sat on a brick wall waiting for someone. As she waited, she began carrying on a conversation with herself—at least it appeared no one was with her. He certainly hadn’t seen anyone with her. Then that bitch social worker pulled up and Lacy got into her car.

He smacked the steering wheel, the memory of that day stirring his anger all over again.

From the corner of his eye, he caught movement at the door. He looked up to see Lacy exit the diner, followed by Angela, Brenda, and then…wait a minute, he hadn’t seen the good ole doc go in with them. “He must have met them there.” A sneer crossed his lips. “You sly ole dog,” he said. Then, “Brenda, you two-timing bitch!”

He watched Angela and Lacy get into one of the cars. Brenda and the doctor got into another, fancier car, no doubt the good doctor’s piece of gold. “Headed for your looove shack?” He drew out the word love then laughed at his own humor.

He followed, and to his surprise, they pulled into a grocery store parking lot. He frowned in confusion.

They were inside for nearly a half hour, and then they all came out laughing. He followed them again in his rented car. Better to play it safe and not have his car spotted, even though he was well outside the parameters of the restraining order. He laughed. They turned out of the downtown district and began driving through the more modern part of the city, then into the suburbs—the nicer part of town.

He wished he had one of those GPS units that some of the more wealthy law enforcement branches had, but the mayor was a tightwad with the department’s budget. If it hadn’t been for Charlie Renton, he could have used department resources to track Brenda’s cell phone. Charlie had been watching him like a hawk. Charlie was gone now, but he still had to be careful with department resources while the state guys were hanging around.

He hadn’t wanted to hire Charlie in the first place, especially as second-in-command, but the mayor and the rest of the jackasses on the hiring committee had taken a strong liking to him. The job advertisement was only for a deputy sheriff, as all the other officers were, but they had been so impressed with Charlie’s credentials they created a new position of a deputy chief. “Someone to fill in when you’re sick and things,” the mayor had explained, but Peter knew the truth: they were tired of the complaints and wanted someone to keep the sheriff in line.

They traveled up a hill, leaving the suburbanites and entering the district of the well-to-do. “What the hell?” he asked aloud. “Where are you going?”

He saw a garage door open and watched the doctor pull into the garage. The door shut, and the social worker pulled into the driveway. He watched them get out of the car and climb the steps to the front door. He shook his head. “So the doctor’s rich.”

He sat in his car, daring to get closer, knowing they wouldn’t suspect he had followed them. They were in the house for quite a while when a pompous looking older woman carrying a small dog, emerged from the house next door and walked up the steps. The doctor opened the door, gave the woman a polite hug, and then permitted her entrance. She wasn’t there long before she came back out and re-entered her own house.

After that, there wasn’t much activity at the front of the house, but soon he heard the garage door open, and the doctor’s car backed out. It appeared all four of them were in the car. They traveled down the street again. He ducked as they drove passed.

He followed them back to the grocery store. Baffled, he almost gave in to temptation and followed them into the store. Sanity won, though, and he waited impatiently—thumping the steering wheel with his thumbs.

Finally, they came back out pushing two carts of food. He knit his eyebrows together and wondered just how much food four people could eat.

They drove back to the house, but they weren’t there long before the three women came back out and climbed into the social worker’s car. Peter didn’t bother following them, assuming they were returning to the apartment. The doctor was the one he was interested in the most. He sneered. “You can’t take a man’s possessions and get away with it.” For emphasis, he slapped the dashboard. Peter got out of his car and tiptoed to the front door. The large mahogany door had a center panel of stained glass. He couldn’t see through it, so he braved the bushes and crept over to a front window, keeping low in case a neighbor might be peering out a window. He knew neighborhoods like this had neighborhood watch programs. Hell, he conducted a few of the meetings himself.

He could barely see into the kitchen—just the sink area. Occasionally the doctor would appear, carrying dishes and setting them inside. He couldn’t hear any music, but guessed there must be some because the doctor appeared to be singing and dancing. Peter grinned. “Dork,” he said. “The good Samaritan doctor is a pussy.” Soon he disappeared altogether. Peter guessed he must have finished washing the dishes.

Three feet away, in the room to his right, a light came on. Peter jumped back, startled, rustling the bushes in the process. The curtains parted, and a dog’s nose appeared. The dog looked right at him and snarled, then barked wildly. The doctor came up behind him and peered outside. Peter flattened himself against the side of the house.

A moment later, he heard the front door open. Peter flattened himself to the ground, trying to blend in with the earth as much as possible, thankful for the low light of the moon that evening.

He heard the dog sniffing at the bushes. As he got closer, he heard his low, angry growl. Then the doctor said, “Come on, boy. It’s probably some slimy reptile.” The dog was reluctant to leave, but eventually, he obeyed his master.

Peter heard the door shut and saw a shadow fall across the window again. He did a belly-crawl out of the bushes and across the lawn and rose to his feet when he came to the sidewalk. If anyone happened to look out a window now, he would merely look like a resident taking a leisurely stroll.

He got back into his car and hit the steering wheel, popping the horn button off. He picked it up and threw it at the rear window. He put the car in gear and screeched down the street.

He ran three red lights, narrowly avoiding striking the arm of the railroad-crossing gate before he came to an abrupt stop in his driveway. Jumping out of the rental car, he threw open the front door and ran inside the house. Frantically, he ran from room to room, smashing or ripping anything that reminded him of Brenda.

When he finished, he found himself standing in the middle of the living room, “Goddammit,” he swore. Everything was unraveling in his life. Even the goddamned state guys were now harassing him. “Thank you very much, you no good son of a bitch Charlie Renton.” He’d fixed him all right, though. He still had some pull in high places. He’d covered up a few messes by higher-up mucky-mucks over the years. It hadn’t been hard to get Charlie’s sorry ass shipped off to sin city.
Charlie’s been gone to Vegas a week now,
he thought, smiling with smug satisfaction.

He pumped his fist in the air in celebration. He swayed with the effort. He looked down at his hand, noticing he was holding the whiskey bottle. He didn’t even remember picking it up. He grinned. “Ain’t no goddamned attorney general gonna trample my turf.” His words slurred. He collapsed on the couch and drank straight from the bottle. He drank until he had drunk so much that he passed out cold.