All Things Return

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All Things Return Page 38

by W.H. Harrod

“This is by far the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in,” mused Terrance the following morning. He recalled his exclamation of disbelief when Jess told him a year earlier how much she paid for the bed. Since then, he’d admitted to the hastiness of his initial estimate of its worth several times. She really does have a good head on her shoulders, admitted Terrance for the umpteenth time since the previous evening. She wanted very little to do with society’s fascination with material things. But, on the rare occasion when she spotted something she thought returned value for value, she would spare no expense or effort.

  “And why not,” mumbled Terrance, “that is, if you’ve got a couple hundred thousand extra bucks in your pocket?”

  No more underestimating people from now on, and better yet, stop judging people all together. What were his stellar qualifications ceding him the right to pronounce judgment upon others? Is it that he’s had more good-looking girlfriends in high school and college than his buddies or because he came into this world with natural good looks? Because, every other thing he ever tried, he rated average at best. He should find another hobby.

  He glanced over at the wall clock. By his reckoning, he’d slept almost ten hours. Even now, the effects of the past week lingered. It felt like having a hangover without drinking the booze. He crawled out of bed and headed for the shower before going to the walk-in closet where he knew Jess kept some of his clothing for occasions like this.

  After a hot shower and a good tooth brushing, Terrance started to look around the house for Jess. Not finding her, he grabbed a sweatshirt and headed out the front door towards the barn. That’s where she usually spent the mornings. No sooner had he stepped through the front door then he found her and the dogs. She sat watching him from the big wooden rocking chair at the end of the porch, wrapped in her grandmother’s handmade quilt, and beside her, of course, her two sidekicks, Harvey and Fifi, observed his every move.

  “Sorry I slept so long. How long have you been up?” he asked.

  “We’ve been up for a couple hours, but I’m glad you were able to get the rest you looked as if you needed. How about some breakfast? The coffee’s fresh and hot. Or, I could drive to the bakery and get—what are you grinning at?”

  “Nothing,” answered Terrance as he sat down on the heavy wooden bench close to Jess. “I was thinking again how absolutely amazing you are and how slow I must be to not realize this before now.”

  “You’re not slow, so stop saying that. And you forget that I’m something of a savvy investor. I always had faith that I would someday get a good return on this particular investment. You were never so dark and brooding that an intelligent person couldn’t see your good qualities and your potential. At worst, on a cold lonely night, you’re not at all hard to snuggle up with.” Jess rose from her chair and came over and sat down on Terrance’s lap as she finished talking.

  “I’m going inside to fix you some buckwheat pancakes, and I have maple syrup to go with them. After you’ve eaten, I’ve some ideas we can discuss.” Without waiting for a comment, she and the dogs went into the house, leaving Terrance alone to make his peace with the beautiful fall morning—not a difficult task at all.

  The morning’s feast didn’t leave him as incapacitated as the previous evening meal. All during breakfast, Jess busied herself with feeding the dogs, washing dishes, and tidying up. Not once did she sit down at the table and join him as he ate the perfectly prepared pancakes.

  “Anything wrong?” he asked as he downed the last of his coffee. “You’ve been awful quiet the last fifteen minutes. I hope you’re not having second thoughts, but I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” He waited for her reply.

  Jess said nothing as she put down her dishcloth and walked over to Terrance. Looking him straight in the eye, she said, “I want you to promise me that you will never say anything like that to me again. You probably don’t realize it, but you just now insulted me. Do you think so little of me as to believe I could make such a commitment to you last night, as I did, and turn right around this morning and say, excuse me, but never mind? If you have any doubts about my loyalty and my commitment, you should leave right now.” Jess continued looking him in the eyes, awaiting a response.

  Terrance could see again how immature his remark sounded. “I’m sorry, that was stupid. I promise I’m going to do better. This is all so new to me.”

  “Accepted, and I know it is. Now if you’re ready, we can go over an idea I have.” Jess retreated to the other room to retrieve a note pad before joining Terrance at the table.

  “Well, after thinking about everything, I suggest we start with this.” Jess pushed a single piece of notebook paper towards Terrance. She had written on the paper, in bold handwriting, the following words: “The more you experience, the less you know. The sage wanders without knowing, looks without seeing, accomplishes without acting.”

  Terrance barely caught himself before he made some derisive remark about this being one of those unfathomable Tao messages she always pushed off on him. Instead, as an adult member of this new partnership, he held his tongue and waited for Jess to explain.

  “I know this stuff doesn’t make a lot of sense to you,” offered Jess, “but to me, it makes all the sense in the world. Let me explain. Our best and only plan right at this moment is to make preparations to get out of this part of the country as quickly as possible and never come back. For us to start running, we would always be looking over our shoulders, forever worrying about the cartel. Isn’t that right? Well, what if we turned it around? What if we became the hunters? What if we stayed where we are familiar with the terrain and went looking for them? We keep them in front of us, not behind us. That’s all this is saying. The farther away we travel, the less we know about where we are. But, if we operate in this area, we can stay on top of where they are and what they’re doing.”

  This idea intrigued Terrance. “Go on, I’m listening.”

  “Good. Now here’s my idea. We set a trap. We get them to come to a place where we are waiting for them, and then we follow them. We find out what they look like, where they operate from, and how many of them there are. Everything they do, we will observe. Only when we are confident of what we are dealing with, will we make our decision on what to do.”

  Terrance could tell Jess had spent some time thinking about this. “Okay, now tell me about the trap part of the plan. You do know that these are blood thirsty murderers we’ll be chasing down, don’t you? Because if you’ll recall, neither of us could bring ourselves to kill and clean that fish we caught down at the river last year. Not exactly the résumés I would be looking for if I were hiring people to go out chasing crooks and killers.”

  “We’re not going to fight them, you goofball. We’re only going to watch them from a safe distance,” replied Jess frowning.

  “Good, then the only thing we need to discuss now is what constitutes a safe distance. I vote for California,” said Terrance, maintaining a straight face.

  Jess ignored his weak attempt at humor. “Do you know what we will use for bait?” asked Jess. “The Cherokee will be the bait. We’ll park it in a spot where we’re sure they’ll find it and where we can watch them from a safe distance. I’ve got the telephoto equipment. All we need to do is find the right place. Well, what do you think?”

  Her eyes displayed no fear. She wants to do this, observed Terrance. He never knew this side of her before.

  Jess made more notes in her spiral notebook. “I’ve got a few more ideas I’m working on, but I’ll wait until I collect more information before I tell you about them.”

  If this group of criminals intended to destroy their lives, Jess wasn’t going to roll over for them. Her attitude impressed Terrance. If she was willing to fight, he—

  The ringing of Terrance’s cell phone from the bedroom interrupted his thoughts. Who could be calling me? he wondered. Should I answer it? At least, I should see if I recognize the number of the person calling. By the time he got to the phone, the caller had been
rolled to his voice mail. Soon after the cell phone beeped, indicating a message awaited. Entering the retrieval code, his voice mail informed him of one message in his box. The message followed: “Terrance, this is Mrs. Bidwell. It’s Sunday morning at 10 a.m. I need to speak with you as soon as possible. Please call me as soon as you can. I’ll await your call.”

  Terrance looked around for Jess who stood right behind him. “It was a call from Mrs. Bidwell asking me to call her to set up a time for a meeting. She said she needs to speak with me,” said Terrance somewhat puzzled. “What else could we have left to talk about? Maybe the cartel contacted her. What should I do?” He felt relieved to have someone help him make these decisions.

  Jess hesitated before answering. “We do need to know what she wants, and by using the cell phone, no one can determine where you’re calling from. Ask her what she wants to talk to you about. If she wants to meet with you, tell her you will meet with her at the coffee shop on the corner of Tenth and Massachusetts, at 11 a.m. I’ll drive you to within a couple blocks of the place a half hour early and then park the van down the street and watch who comes along. When you’re finished talking, call me on my cell phone, and then you can duck out through the alley entrance, and I’ll pick you up in the parking lot behind the courthouse. Got it?”

  “Have you done this stuff before?” asked an incredulous Terrance.

  “No, I have not. Now call her back.”

  Terrance did as she instructed and dialed the number. After only two rings, Mrs. Bidwell answered. “Hello, Terrance. Thank you for returning my call so soon. How are you this morning?”

  “I’m doing very well, thank you, Mrs. Bidwell.” Terrance rolled his eyes back in amazement at the woman’s refusal to get nervous even in this crisis situation. “You mentioned we needed to talk. Has something happened? Are you okay?”

  “Oh, I’m fine. Thank you for asking, and no, nothing at all has happened. But, I did happen to look at the paper this morning, and couldn’t help but notice that no articles made mention of our mutual friend. Were you aware of that?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Bidwell, I am aware of that. It’s unfortunate that no additional information availed itself for that piece. I fully expect that this matter is finished. I gave notice to my employer, so I can’t imagine that it will ever come up again in the future.” Jess tapped him hard on the shoulder. “Mrs. Bidwell, is there anything else you want to tell me about? Do you have information relating to our friends from down south?”

  “No, nothing, except that I don’t think anyone’s going to have to worry about that now. However, there are some other important matters I feel we need to talk about, and I hoped you could come to my house this afternoon. Would 2 p.m. work for you?”

  “Hold on please,” said Terrance as he turned to Jess. “She wants me to come to her house and meet with her at 2 p.m.?”

  Jess thought for a moment. Her instincts always told her to go directly at the problem if you had the opportunity. “Tell her you will be there,” said Jess.

  “Two p.m. it is, Mrs. Bidwell.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

 

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