by Deany Ray
Okay, buddy, you’re going down. There was no way I was going to let the creep out of my sight.
“Did you hear me, Hailey?” my mother said, who I realized must have been talking all along. Her voice had gone back to her “weak and fragile” mode. “Oh, my back, my eyes!” she cried. “My health is way too delicate for me to be entrusted with you behind the wheel. Perhaps they should have kept me overnight.”
She went on and on with me managing some sympathetic murmurs every now and then. My mind was mostly on Fitzgerald and what options I had. I could call 911, but surely this master of escape would disappear into the crowd before the police arrived. He was way too good at this hiding game.
“Hailey, are you listening? I asked you a question!” my mother snapped.
“What? Come again?” I had never been too good at the multitasking thing.
“Where is your head today?”
“Mother, you’ll be fine,” I tried, hoping that response would somehow be related to whatever she had asked.
Fitzgerald stopped at that point to inspect some items at an outdoor stand with hats and shawls and an assortment of trinkets aimed at tourists.
That was my chance. I swerved to double park, earning me more honks—and a squawk from the back seat. But I didn’t care. I was on a mission.
“You can’t be serious. You’re stopping?” my mother asked. “You do know there’s a patient here in your back seat?”
“Mom, I’m really sorry. It’s just that . . . um . . . I have to take care of something.”
“This occurs to you right now?”
“Yes, I know the timing is . . . unfortunate.”
“Where are we anyway?” she asked.
“Just near some stores in town.”
“Some stores? Hailey, take me home. I can’t imagine there’s an urgent need for you to stop and shop.”
I scrambled my brain for anything that would remotely sound legitimate. “Um, I’ve spotted someone who . . . owes me money.” Okay, that was actually the truth. “They owe me money, and I couldn’t reach them on the phone, so this is my chance.” After almost giving the patient whiplash, I would not add lying to my list of sins against my mother. “Be right back.” I slipped out of the Jeep. “I rolled down a window so you could get some air.”
I walked up quietly behind my prey, who had just picked up a black cap to examine. Probably he figured black would blend in better than a look-at-me shade of purple. From that angle, I could see now that he was wearing a fake beard and a pair of dark sunglasses—but there was no doubt it was him. Only problem was, I had no idea what to do next. This muscled god of cinema, who’d leaped great distances in movies and fought off a zillion bad guys, was way stronger than I was. No way was Hailey Webb taking Amery Fitzgerald down. If I yelled for help, a group of people would probably manage to hold down the fugitive until the police arrived.
As I pondered that, my mother’s voice came through the open window. “Don’t take any crap from that guy, Hailey. Make sure you get back every cent he owes you!”
For the love of God! Really?
At the sound of my mother’s voice, Fitzgerald wheeled around, his eyes growing huge when he most probably recognized me. He took off at a run. I stumbled along behind him, cursing my stupid heels. Luckily there was the crowd, forcing him to slow down to weave between the passersby, who stared at him openmouthed.
“Hey, watch it!” one man yelled as the fleeing actor shoved him out of the way. Desperate, Fitzgerald flew faster through the crowd now, mowing down two racks of clothes. A girl who had been arranging T-shirts on one of the outside racks leaped out of his way.
“Someone stop him! Please!” I yelled, pulling off my shoes to try to keep up better, but the crowd was more stunned than helpful as they watched the scene unfold.
Up ahead, I saw Fitzgerald dart into a dog-grooming shop, and I ran toward it, heels in hand and out of breath. Inside, I ran close behind him as he dashed past the stunned groomers, their hands and tools paused in midair as their eyes followed us. The dogs, in all shapes and sizes, growled and barked at us, their ears perked up in excitement.
As I followed my target into a back room where dogs were being washed, the commotion grew even more intense. A startled older woman seemed to have no idea that her showerhead was pointed at the floor, sending a small river flowing toward me. The little terrier in the tub in front of her seemed to think it was a game. He leaped onto the floor, adding foamy puddles to the slick and oozing mix just as I ran past. I flew into the air and landed on my butt. Before I could even wince in pain, a pack of dogs was piled onto my chest, eager for some play. I looked up just in time to see Fitzgerald dashing out through the back door. Dammit.
I freed myself from the pile of wagging tails and doggy kisses. Man, Kat would have loved that place. I got up onto my aching legs. Gamely, I gave the staff an apologetic look, then grabbed my shoes to continue with the chase. After all of this, he could not get away!
I stumbled out the back door, but he was nowhere to be seen. I helplessly looked around in all the directions in which he could have run. So many doorways he could have disappeared into. Defeated and irritated, to say the least, I headed to the Jeep. The activity on the street around me seemed to have returned to normal as I made my slow way back. Barefoot, wet, and foamy, and a total mess.
My mother was laying on her back, her hand to her forehead, in diva mode again. “I hope at least you got your money back,” she said.
I got into the car and grabbed some tissues from a box that I kept between the seats and blotted uselessly at my blouse, which was soaked with soapy water. I ran my fingers through my curls, sending water droplets flying toward my mother.
“What the . . . ?” she asked. “Did you swim after your guy? Is it raining? I didn’t see rain in the forecast.”
“It’s a long story, Mom. Let’s just say he got away.”
“Can we go now, please? I’ve been very patient, Hailey.”
“Yes, you have, and I’m sorry for the delay.” And I really meant that. “It’s just that . . . I need to make some quick calls. In private. Um, it’s for . . . work.”
My mother sighed and leaned back. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you today. This is not the proper conduct. This is not a proper conduct. You may recall that your mother is a top professional who knows how to keep things under wraps in the world of business. Maybe I should teach you a thing or two.”
“I’m not going to take long, Mom. Promise. Then we’ll get you home.”
“Do you have any bottled water here? That would keep me from feeling faint. I prefer coconut or peach, and no cheap brands, please.”
“I don’t have any water here, Mom,” I said, “but I’m sure you have your favorite brand at home, where we will be real soon.”
I stepped out of the Jeep and first called 9-1-1. A dispatcher answered, sounding bored, but changed her attitude rapidly at the name Amery Fitzgerald. I told her where he had last been spotted, described the beard and purple cap. I hung up feeling somewhat hopeful the cops would get there fast and maybe bring this thing to an end.
My next call was to Mike. “Got a scoop for you,” I said, filling in the details.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said when I finished. “Do you have some kind of Fitzgerald radar on you? Now, if you could just catch him . . .”
I rolled my eyes at the phone. “At least I was closer to him than you ever were.”
Mike laughed. “Got me there. And to think all this time you’ve made fun of my cap. That cap could be the key to finding him.”
“We can only hope,” I told him with a smile. “It’s still an atrocious cap.”
Mike said he’d make a note in the story of where Fitzgerald was seen last. “I’ll let the readers know to be on the lookout and call the cops with any updates. What I wouldn’t give to see this guy go down.”
“You and me both,” I said. “Gotta go now, before the patient in the back seat decides to murder me.”
/> On the drive to my mother’s house, I kept an eye out for purple while driving carefully, mindful of the fragile passenger moaning softly in the back. I racked my brain to decide where Fitzgerald would go next and where he could be staying. He had to be sleeping somewhere. It wasn’t like this probably pampered movie star would sleep out on the streets or under a bridge. Then again, with this one, you never knew.
I pulled into my mother’s drive. Very gently, I helped her from the back, got her inside and settled on the couch, and headed off to find that water.
“I would like it in a glass with two cubes of ice,” she said, “and could you move my pillow a bit higher on my back, please?”
At least she said “please.”
“That I can do,” I said and rolled my eyes, probably out of reflex.
“I saw that look,” she said.
“No, you didn’t,” I replied, eyeing the bandages that covered up her eyes.
“Well, I sensed it, darling. I know you too well.”
“Hang on just a little longer,” I said.
“And how much longer would that be?” my mom asked.
Hmm, I realized I was actually talking to myself.
I brought my mom her water and headed to the bathroom to grab a towel for my clothes, which were still damp. “Is Maria here?” I called to my mother. Maria was my mother’s part-time housekeeper du jour. She was supposed to be here to look after her until the bandages could come off.
“I told her to take the day off since my daughter would be here.”
She told her what?
I returned to the living room, dabbing at my blouse. “Mom! Maria was supposed to be here. I told you I have stuff to do.”
This was great. My mom has been calling me daily to discuss things about her surgery I already knew, i.e. agreed upon, but this she didn’t mention.
“Stuff?” she asked, affronted. “You have stuff to do? My daughter has stuff to do that’s more important than taking care of her mother while she’s blind? I did remind you several times about my surgery today so you’d have time to plan.”
The headache I'd been holding in all day made itself present.
“Yes, I did plan. About driving you to the surgery and bringing you back home. The plans involved Maria being here when we returned.” I closed my eyes in frustration. Crap and double crap. I had a shift on the set tonight, and I couldn’t possibly clone myself to be there and here with my mom at the same time.
“I had no idea it would be so much trouble,” my mother said, sounding peeved and hurt at the same time.
Again, I was overwhelmed with guilt. It seemed we were always stuck in this emotional circle of ours. Maybe I really should have planned to stay with her tonight, but I had to get to the set. I’d committed to the job, plus I’d hoped to pick up some new tips about the murder.
“Look, I’m really sorry,” I said in a gentle voice, wondering how I could explain. “It’s just that there are things I really need to handle.” I paused to think a moment. “It’s about the money that guy took from me. The one I was trying to chase down.”
That got her attention. “Oh.”
I cleared my throat. “Yes, and—"
“How much money did you lend him, anyway?” my mom asked.
I hesitated. “Well, it was two—”
“You lent some guy two hundred dollars?”
“Thousand,” I corrected her in an almost whisper. “It was two thousand dollars.”
The patient jumped up from the couch like a dead person from the coffin. “What? Two thousand dollars? You don’t have two thousand dollars to lend! What were you thinking, Hailey? Who is this guy anyway?”
I sighed, suddenly exhausted. “It’s a long and awful story, but I’ll get the money back.”
And the money for my stuff from the truck. I hoped.
My mom lifted her hand. “Please hand me my checkbook. My purse is on the counter.”
“No, Mom. It’s okay.” I felt super guilty now. “I appreciate the thought, and I’ll be sure to let you know if I need any money, okay?”
My mom waited for a beat then she nodded. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
Now it was time to make a plan. “Listen, how about I come back later tonight when the bandages come off?” I did some quick math. That would be around 11 p.m. At least this way, my guilt feelings would simmer down. “In the meantime, I’ll get Maria to stay with you. How can I reach her?”
My mother sighed and told me to check her phone for Maria’s contact information. I slipped into the guest room to make the call, and Maria picked up right away. I could tell she was not that super happy by the change of plans. Still, I admired the professionalism that allowed her to pretend she was looking forward to an evening with my mother. That, or me promising her a bonus.
“Maria’s on her way,” I told my mother when I stepped back into the living room. “She’ll take care of everything.” I tucked a blanket around her and arranged her pillow to fit just right.
“I suppose that will be fine.” My mom sniffed, sipping her organic-healthy-vegan-whatever water.
“Oh, and by the way, you’re giving her a bonus.”
My mom whipped her head around, almost spilling the water. “I’m doing what?”
Chapter Nine
Once I finally made it home, I had just enough time to change into another pair of jeans and a plain black shirt. Still, dry clothes felt amazing as did the pair of sneakers that would have saved me a hard landing on my butt earlier that day.
I fluffed up my blonde curls and put on a little lipstick before I grabbed my keys, trying to refocus on my evening job. It was simple, really: keeping the trays filled and the tables neat while listening for hints about what had really happened with that gun.
The thought of those trays of food made my stomach rumble—and once again, there was no time to eat before I went to work. I’d hardly eaten anything all day, in fact, and my stomach was protesting. It really was a special kind of hell, serving up rich-smelling pasta and slices of thick cake while you were fighting hunger pains. Perhaps at Cocoa, they’d have something I could grab to go, but just in case, I stuffed a granola bar into my purse.
I munched on my “dinner” as I sped to Cocoa, where Kat’s red MINI Cooper was already parked in the back.
“Are you ready for this?” she asked me with a grin as she got out of the car. “Can day number two get any wilder than what we saw last night?”
“I’m craving calmness, Kat. That and some information,” I added with a wink.
She handed me the van keys. “They’ve already brought the keys out, and the food is in the van. So I guess you and I are ready to get this show on the road.”
As we got on our way, I kept up a good speed to make sure we were on time.
“I haven’t talked to you all day,” Kat said lazily as she scrolled through her phone. “Have you heard any news about Fitzgerald?”
Despite the exhaustion that was creeping up on me, I felt a bit of a thrill, knowing that my answer was going to blow her mind. “There was a sighting, yes.” I turned my head to grin at her.
“What?” She gasped. “You’re kidding? An honest-to-God sighting? How? Where? By whom? I’m dying here!”
“I saw him while I was driving my mom home after surgery.”
“Shut up! You’re not serious?” Kat’s eyes almost popped out.
I laughed. “Serious as a heart attack.”
I launched into the story, which lasted almost the whole drive. Kat was silent as I talked, mouthing things like “Whoa!” and “Dogs! So many dogs!”
“It was one hell of a day,” I said. “And that’s not all. They found Mike’s truck.”
“They found the truck? That’s great!”
“Well, not so great, as it turns out.” I filled her in on the details.
“That sucks,” she said. “The world is full of jerks.” She sighed as she gazed out of the window. “So, you had the chase, the stolen stuff
, and all those hours with Sheryl.” Kat gave me a look. “I’m glad she’s okay, but I can just imagine what kind of patient she was.”
“The whiny kind,” I said.
“Still, I’m so jealous. Walking a few doggies was the only thing remotely interesting about what I did today.”
“Don’t be jealous; I’m exhausted.”
“Unless something exciting happens tonight, I officially declare my day to be a total snoozer.” She pulled some mints out of her purse and passed one to me. We rode along in silence for a while.
“I wish we could be there to watch them film the scenes,” Kat said after a bit. “I don’t even have a clue what this movie is about.”
We knew it had a lot of action and a romantic subplot, but most of the details of the movie had been kept tightly under wraps. They also didn’t shoot a trailer yet, so we were super curious about the outcome. By the time Kat and I had arrived with the food the day before, things were winding down with most of the filming finished for the day. I assumed today would be the same.
“Check it out!” Kat said as we turned a corner and the entrance to the set came into view. The number of rabid fans seemed to have swelled to the millions. Some shoved and pushed against each other for a peek inside. Others seemed to have turned the gathering into a kind of party with folding chairs and drinks and signs. “We Still Love You, Amery!” was scrawled across one sign. “Our Man is Innocent!” another said. “Stop the Lies!”
“Jesus, are they crazy?” I asked.
“I don’t think they even care if he did kill Victoria,” Kat said.
I slowed to an almost crawl as I pulled into the drive. Piloting the big van was hard enough without these distracted fans, who I feared could dart in front of me without even looking.
Five security guards were now in place instead of two, and Kat and I showed one of them our IDs, telling him that we had food from Cocoa. He nodded wearily, checked us off the list, and motioned for us to go on in.
“Here we go,” I said, driving to our designated spot and turning off the engine. We began to unload the dishes onto the long tables. Tonight, there was quiche, a blackened chicken and avocado salad, and many of the same amazing offerings as before: an interesting mixture of healthy and indulgent.