I shoved Pop into the car, gave Anthony a nervous wave, and hopped in the passenger side. As Pop gunned the engine, I said a tiny prayer that Anthony had more muscle than brain and would promptly forget Pop’s name. The idea that he might come looking for us scared me silly.
Not taking his eyes off the road, Pop announced, “I could have taken him. That guy didn’t scare me for a second.”
The bravado in Pop’s voice was ruined by his expression. Pop’s face looked like he’d sat on a stun gun.
Sighing, I gently said, “I know, Pop.” I closed my eyes for the ride home.
The clock read twelve twenty-two when we pulled into the driveway. The headlights of Pop’s car illuminated Cornstalk Santa, causing me to ask, “Why did you put that scarecrow up now, Pop? Christmas is seven months away.”
Pop yawned as he guided the long car into the garage. “Louise said her scarecrows are good decorations no matter what time of year. Plus, I’m hoping it’ll keep away those damn crows. They keep pecking at the grass seed. This thing should scare them. It scares the hell out of me.”
Entering the house, I decided the scarecrow would keep away more than birds. Everyone in Indian Falls had to know Louise made those things, and Pop putting one in his front yard as good as branded him hers. I climbed into bed and shut off the light. Louise was a whole lot smarter than I’d given her credit for.
Bleary-eyed and grumpy, I stumbled into the kitchen the next morning. Pop was already seated at the table drinking his coffee. He looked like nothing unusual had happened the night before.
I chugged a cup of scalding coffee. Then, ignoring the tongue burn, I poured myself another. My mind was in a fog. Even though I’d been dead tired last night, sleep had eluded me for hours. Visions of the hulking Anthony Catalano had haunted me all night long.
When I opened the rink’s front door around ten o’clock, my eyes were finally opened, thanks to the half-pot of caffeine running through my veins. Only problem was, my mind was still asleep, which is why I was seated at my mother’s desk wondering what in the world to do next. All my leads were dead ends. I had come to a dead end. I was going to be in Indian Falls for the rest of my life.
I spent the rest of my day renting skates and playing referee during open-skate hours. During my breaks, I tried my damnedest to convince George that being the rink manager would be a great career opportunity. Sadly, at thirty-eight years of age, George was still certain the Ice Capades would call.
The events of the next day were pretty much the same. I even upped my offer to George, saying I’d hire an assistant rink manager to give him some help. No dice, so I called the sheriff’s office and chatted up Roxy. By the time I hung up, Roxy had shared that Felix Slaughter was getting a divorce, that Mack’s funeral was scheduled for Friday morning, and that Sheriff Jackson and his crack team were no closer to solving Mack’s murder than I was.
By Thursday my nerves were strung so tight they were ready to snap. I decided to stop at the DiBelka bakery to get some fresh bagels to ease the tension. Mrs. DiBelka was waiting on a customer as I walked through the door. She gave me a big smile and finished ringing up the order.
Many things in Indian Falls had changed since I left for Chicago. Mrs. DiBelka and her old-fashioned bakery still looked the same. With bleach-blond hair, a spandex leopard-print shirt that exposed her ample cleavage, and four-inch heels, Mrs. D looked like an X-rated Betty Crocker. When I was in high school, the boys would take turns daring each other to get close enough to look down her blouse. Of course, to do so they’d have to buy something. I’ve always thought that was part of the bakery’s grand marketing plan.
The customer disappeared through the door, and Mrs. DiBelka came around the counter. Her arms wrapped me in a warm hug, and I settled into her embrace with a sigh. Mrs. D. smelled like baking bread.
“How’ve you been, Rebecca?” Mrs. D. took a step back and looked me over with a critical eye. “You’re not eating enough. You’re looking so skinny.”
I smiled. “They don’t have bakeries as good as yours in Chicago.”
“Oh, go on.” She waved my compliment aside, but I could tell she was pleased. “So what can I get for you?”
I glanced at the case with the éclairs. They had a seductive aura that was working on my psyche. Resisting, I said, “Two apple cinnamon bagels.”
Mrs. D. bagged the bagels. She handed them to me, saying, “Doreen Nelson was in earlier. She told everyone you were going to be staying in town longer than she first thought. Is that true? If so, I’ll call Angie in Galena. She’d love to come for a visit. The two of you could catch up.”
Mrs. D’s daughter Angie had been my best friend from kindergarten all the way through high school. She was the only one who’d been able to make me feel better after my father left and the only person besides my family I’d really missed after leaving Indian Falls.
“I’d love to see Angie again. Tell her I might be here a couple of weeks if she wants to swing by.” My voice sounded perky. Too bad my heart dropped in my chest as my throat constricted. Saying the words out loud hurt. They made my extended stay in Indian Falls feel like a reality. The back of my eyes began to burn, but crying in public wasn’t an option. Instead I said, “Mrs. D, I need two of those éclairs.”
I also bought four doughnuts and two therapeutic chocolate chip scones. Then I drove my Civic to the rink. I waited for George to finish the private lesson he was teaching before showing him the box of doughnuts. Perhaps bribing George with doughnuts was a cheap trick, but bakery goods had worked for Lionel. Right now I’d try anything.
George scarfed down four doughnuts, then turned down my job offer, again. Apparently, all those medical studies about sugar affecting the brain were way off. Either that or George was a medical miracle.
Licking chocolate off his fingers, George glided onto the rink to work off the calories. I turned and went into the office to call my Chicago roommate, Jasmine. Our rent was due in a week, and needless to say, I wasn’t going to be there to pay it.
Jasmine picked up at her work extension on the first ring. Her laughter rang through the receiver when I said hello.
“Girl, where are you?” Hearing Jasmine’s low-pitched voice made me smile. “I thought you would have been back days ago.”
I explained about Mack’s murder and the wrench it threw in my plans. Jasmine gasped, then shrieked, “Oh my God. Are you okay? I mean, a dead body would freak even me out.”
“I’m fine.” Sort of. “I’d be better if the sheriff left his garden long enough to figure out who killed Mack.”
Jasmine gave a loud snort and started to laugh. I wasn’t offended. It was funny. Years ago, the Northern Illinois University housing department had assigned me and Jasmine the same room in college. Rural me had been a little freaked by Jasmine’s very dark skin and boisterous laugh. Now I counted on that laugh to keep me sane.
“Hey,” she said. “Neil has been asking about you around the office, and he called our place four times yesterday asking if I knew when you were coming back. I’ve thought about changing our phone number or telling him you’ve moved to Mars, only the poor guy has had a bad couple of days. I don’t have the heart to crush him like that.”
Jasmine and I also worked together. The fact she was concerned about Neil made me sit up straight in my chair.
“What happened? The last time we talked he said his life was kind of complicated, but he wouldn’t explain.” Neil was a little annoying, but essentially a pretty good person. I couldn’t help worrying about the guy, especially if Jasmine was. Jasmine wasn’t the worrying type.
“He didn’t tell you? His brother and sister-in-law were in a car crash last week. They’re in intensive care, and it doesn’t sound like either of them is expected to survive.”
Yikes! On our one and only dinner together, Neil mentioned that his brother and his family lived in Seattle and were the only relatives he had left. My whole body ached with sympathy. I understood what it was like
to lose family. It sucked—and I still had Pop. I could only imagine what Neil was feeling right now.
Jasmine promised to keep me posted and to arrange flowers for the family in both our names if necessary. The call drove home the fact that life went on in Chicago without me. That made me sad, but it also reminded me about the reason I called in the first place. “Hey, are you okay with paying the rent next week?”
I heard a pop on the other end, and my mind quickly conjured the image of Jasmine blowing a bubble. She was the Hubba Bubba queen.
“Yeah,” she said. “You left enough to cover it.”
Actually, I was fifty dollars short, but Jasmine was too nice to admit it. She was also too good a friend to remind me that next month’s rent was only thirty days away and neither of us knew when I’d be back.
I swallowed hard and admitted, “The only thing is, I don’t know when this whole thing is going to be over. Do you think you can cover the rent next month if I can’t? I promise I’ll pay you back.”
There was silence on the other line before a subdued Jasmine said, “I didn’t want to bring this up, but I have a cousin coming to town, and she’s been begging me for a place to stay for a couple of months. I told her no, but she would be willing to temporarily take over your part of the rent. She’s desperate.”
My vision blurred as blood flooded my head. I put my head down on the desk and tried to take a deep, calming breath. No good. My air intake came fast and shallow.
“Becca? You still there?”
“Yeah,” I squeaked.
“Don’t freak out or anything. I don’t really want her to move in. Just when you mentioned being concerned about the rent I thought it might be a good idea.” Jasmine’s voice turned soft and sympathetic. “You have enough to worry about without being concerned about stuff back here, my friend. Tell you what, I’ll put your stuff in storage so my cousin doesn’t do any damage, and the minute you’re ready to come back my cousin will be booted. And it better be soon; otherwise there might be a murder here. Trust me, the girl isn’t my idea of a desirable roommate.”
I rubbed the back of my neck and fought back tears. I hated admitting it, but the idea made sense. A person would have to be insane to want to pay rent in Chicago while living here.
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Okay.” My voice squeaked as I choked out the word. “Just make sure she knows I’m coming back soon.”
Another Hubba Bubba pop sounded as Jasmine said, “No problem. I’ll annoy the hell out of her so she’ll be begging to move out by the time you come back.” I could hear the concern in her voice as she added, “Hey, you take care of yourself. Let me know if you need any help, all right?”
I hung up the phone with my heart in my stomach. Annette had been right on Monday when she said I should get out of town and trust the rink would be fine without me. Instead of listening, I’d felt sorry for myself. Well, now I was homeless and thoroughly depressed. I grabbed the final éclair in the bakery box and took a bite. By the time I’d eaten the last bits of chocolate I felt improved enough to think logically. Throwing a pity party for myself wasn’t going to get me anywhere, but snooping around town trying to solve Mack’s murder would. What I really needed was the name of the drug that killed Mack, and maybe Eleanor would be willing to give me the name of the drug in exchange for a real date with my grandfather. Anything was possible.
Grabbing my purse, I headed for the door and stalked through the parking lot with purpose. Then I saw my car, and my feet came to an abrupt halt. My right rear tire was flat. Not just a little flat—completely deflated. I took a step closer, and my eyes zeroed in on a rusty-looking thingy sticking out of the black rubber. My car had been fine when I entered the rink. Someone had stabbed that oversized nail into my tire on purpose.
Eleven
I started to sniffle, but then I heard footsteps behind me. Panic stopped the tears. Acting on instinct, I swung my purse and felt it connect with something.
“Ooof.”
I turned in time to see Lionel go down to one knee. That started me crying for real. Not only was my car injured, now I wouldn’t get my camel ride.
“What in the hell is wrong with you?” Lionel yelled. He pushed himself off the ground and brushed off his pants while giving me several looks of disgust.
I didn’t know what to say, so I just pointed to the car, which apparently was the right thing to do. Lionel immediately stopped looking angry. He walked to the car and knelt down by the tire. A minute later, he walked back with the nail-like thing that had been protruding from the tire and handed it to me along with a folded slip of paper. “I found this under the windshield wiper.”
Sniffling, I unfolded the note.
Leave town now or bad things will happen.
My tears were replaced by a strange calm. After being coerced into subleasing my apartment, threats were anticlimactic.
I handed Lionel the note and glanced back at the flattened tire. Finding my voice, I asked, “So do you think I should call the sheriff’s department or a mechanic?” Visions of a confused Sean poking my tire sprang to mind. “Never mind the cops,” I said. “I don’t have a full spare in my trunk, which means I can’t fix this myself. Do you have Zach’s number handy?”
Lionel looked at me with a confused expression. “I think I preferred the tears. The calm, rational behavior is scary.”
My eyes narrowed. “Are you one of those guys who thinks women get irrational during a crisis?”
“No.” He shook his head. “But I’ve come to expect it from you. Rebecca, you are not like other women.”
I decided to take that as a compliment. Lionel gave me Zach’s number, and I pulled out my cell and dialed the poker-playing mechanic. We sat on the rink’s front stoop until Zach and his tow truck arrived. A lump formed in my throat as I watched him load my car onto the back. Zach handed me his card, assuring me the tire would be fixed later today, then climbed back in his truck and drove away with my bright yellow car forlornly trailing behind him.
I took a deep breath and asked, “Now what?”
Lionel’s arm snaked around my shoulders. “Now you come with me. I promised Elwood you’d come to the farm for a ride.”
Lionel pulled up outside his office. Before he turned off the ignition, I was out of the truck and halfway to the barn. The prospect of seeing Lionel’s camel made me feel smiley for the first time in days.
I walked into the dim barn, and Elwood greeted me at the door. Today he was sporting a bright orange construction hard hat. My eyebrows rose, and I turned to look at Lionel.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he disappeared into Elwood’s stall. A few seconds later, he reemerged with a motorcycle helmet from the seventies in his hand. The helmet was painted gold and came complete with a chin strap.
Lionel handed the helmet to me. “Your life is a little complicated lately, so I figured you and Elwood should both have some protection.”
“Thanks,” I said with a frown. The hat was ugly, and I resented Lionel’s implication that I couldn’t take care of myself. The worst part was that Lionel had a point. During the last week my life had taken on a strange action-movie quality. Maybe extra protection was a good idea after all.
I shoved the helmet onto my head, squashing my hair in the process. Elwood nudged my shoulder, and I gave him a pat on the neck. “So,” I asked, “how do I do this?”
Lionel grinned. “Let’s go outside in the pasture, and I’ll show you.”
I followed Lionel and Elwood out into the sunlight. Elwood trotted happily into the pasture, not seeming to mind the rope around his neck. Then, for the first time, I really looked at the camel I was about to ride.
Elwood had short light brown hair and stood about six and a half feet tall from the ground to the top of his hump. His one hump. Somehow I remembered camels at the zoo having two humps. Riding a camel with two humps made sense. You just needed to sit in between them and hold on tight. How did a person go about riding a one-humpe
d camel?
Lionel crooked his little finger in my direction, but I didn’t move. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” I said as my feet shuffled backward.
Lionel grabbed my hand, preventing my escape. “Elwood has been looking forward to this all day. He likes having the people he’s friends with ride him. Do you want to fink out and disappoint Elwood?”
I looked into Elwood’s sweet camel face. Slowly, I shook my head. I wasn’t sure if camels could be disappointed, but it seemed wrong to take the chance. “Okay,” I said. “Tell me what to do.”
Lionel gave my arm a tug, and I took a step toward him. His hand reached up, and my heart gave an excited skip as he adjusted my chin strap. He chucked me playfully under the chin and turned toward the camel. “I need to get Elwood suited up. Then the two of you can go for a ride.”
I watched with fascination as Lionel gave the rope a gentle tug. At the signal, Elwood gracefully lowered himself to the ground. Lionel picked up a large saddle sitting on the grass and settled the thing on top of Elwood’s hump. Immediately Elwood stood up, allowing Lionel to fasten the belts. The two of them had clearly been through this routine before.
Ten minutes later, hard-hat Elwood was ready to make tracks. The problem was, I wasn’t. The saddle looked really high. Not that I was scared of heights. I just preferred to keep my feet on the ground.
Lionel shot me an amused look. I could tell he expected me to back out. No way. If Lionel could ride a camel, so could I.
I walked over to Elwood and petted his nose. The camel rolled his eyes with pleasure, and I laughed.
“Are you ready?” Lionel asked.
I nodded. “I’m ready.”
Another tug on the rope had Elwood back on the ground, and I jumped on board. My butt hit the saddle and kept going. I slid over the saddle and landed on the other side of Elwood with a thud. Elwood turned his head and blinked his thick eyelashes as if asking what I was doing with my ass on the ground.
Skating Around the Law Page 10