by Gale Borger
I was so relieved I had tears in my eyes. He noticed before I could look away. “Hey, now, no need to get sloppy over a cup of joe, pal. We could go to my house, but you’ve got the bonus of having the dogs.”
I sniffed and wiped my nose on my sleeve. “J.J., you and I go back a long way and I would have hated to do something stupid enough to jeopardize our friendship. Besides, my dogs would disown me if you didn’t come over any more.”
He laughed again and squeezed my shoulders. “Kid, it would take a lot more than a misplaced bullet to wreck what we have. Hell, we’re practically like an old married couple as it is.” He kissed the top of my head.
23
I smiled and got a tingly-mushy feeling. It scared the living shit out of me. Not J.J., I yelled at myself. I ducked out from under his arm and jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow.
“Yeah, hot shot, and we’ll be front page news if Gossip Central sees you hugging on me in public, so knock it off.”
He grinned and shoved me sideways. “Oh, God, could you imagine? Your mom would be picking out china this afternoon! Mag would bitch constantly ‘cause she had to wear a dress. Fred would rip hers when she fell off her shoes walking up the aisle, and Al would make sure she was in all the pictures! Ha-ha!” He stumbled against the squad in a fit of laughter. “Can you picture Wesley knocking the cake over? Ha-ha, it’s a good thing we never went that route!”
The truth hurts, they say, and the warm fuzzy feeling I was afraid of vanished into thin air. When the laughter didn’t stop I became downright grumpy. “Yeah, yeah, it’s a good thing you escaped with your life, now come on turkey-butt; you owe me coffee.” I marched off to my own car and slammed the door.
J.J. sobered and trotted over to the driver’s window. I lowered it a crack. He seemed to think that was funny too and I almost ran over his toes just to shut him up. “Come on, Buzz. You know it was funny. Lighten up! I have an idea. Why don’t you follow me over to my house and I’ll drop the squad off? That way no one will see it parked in your driveway.”
At my scowl he said, “Who started on Gossip Central?”
I sighed. “Okay, Cowboy, let’s go. You buy the pizza and I’ll pull out the good china and the Irish linen.”
He clasped his hands over his heart and sighed loudly to the Heavens. “The paper plates and the paper towels. What more could a man ask for in his lifetime. A beer, perhaps?” He waggled his eyebrows.
I laughed. “Beer I got.”
“You are the perfect woman, Buzz Miller.”
“Just don’t let it get around. I don’t have time to fight them all off.”
He was still chuckling as he got into his squad. I followed him across town to his house. He parked the squad, grabbed a duffel bag out of the back, and jumped into my car. I took off and he peeled off his uniform shirt. I looked at him. He grinned and tossed it into the back seat. I turned on my street and he pulled his tee shirt out of his pants and dispensed with it in the same manner.
It shocked the crap out of me, but I tried for nonchalance. “Damn, you look pretty good for an old guy, Green!”
He poked at his biceps. “I don’t know, Buzz, I keep finding soft spots that won’t go away.”
I held up a hand. “Let’s not get into your love life, J.J.. This is a family show.” I laughed at my own joke.
He stuck his nose in the air. “When I said soft spots, I was not referring to Mr. Ed.”
I hooted. “Mr. Ed? Who the hell would name his penis Mr. Ed?”
He sang, “A horse is a horse, of course, of course…”
I banged my head against the headrest and moaned in disbelief. “Please spare me, Oh Keeper of the Equine Erectus!”
“Laugh now, Oh Ye of Little Faith. Once you sneak a peek at Mr. Ed….”
I pulled into the driveway wiping the tears out of my eyes. I was still laughing as I turned off the car.
“Oh, give me a break, James Joseph Green. First of all, I have no intention of peeking at the One-Trick Pony. Even if it were true, you couldn’t keep something like that a secret in this town. I’d have read it on a bathroom stall by now.”
We exited the car. He put his nose in the air. “Mr. Ed is very discriminating.” He waggled his eyebrows at me from across the roof of the car. “But look at you! I can still make ‘em cry!” He ducked in, grabbed the duffel bag, and headed for the house. I stood still, dumb struck. He yelled, “Come on, slowpoke, toss me the keys!”
I threw them to him and gathered my notes. I closed the car door just as he got the front door open. I thought about warning him, but just smiled as he shoved the door open.
Wesley catapulted across the threshold and planted his enormous front feet on J.J.‘s chest. They both flew off the porch and hit the ground. J.J.‘s duffel bag bounced and rolled to my feet. I picked it up and walked past the roiling mass of big man and big dog.
I met Hill on her way out to greet J.J. She waited patiently until Wes and J.J. were both exhausted from rolling around on the ground. She walked forward and put her head in his hand. He rubbed her ears and asked, “How’s my best girl today?” Hilary closed her eyes in ecstasy and delicately passed gas.
He jumped to his feet. “Whew! I guess that answered that question! Come on, guys.” He strolled through the front door, the dogs happily trailing behind him.
I called from the kitchen, “I ordered the pizza and your duffel bag is on the couch.” I set the coffee pot on automatic for the morning and walked back into the living room. It was empty. I walked down the hall. “J.J.? Wes? Hill? Where the heck is everybody?”
I heard water running and went into the master bedroom. Sure enough, my shower was running. “J.J.? What are you doing?”
“Playing Parcheesi, what does it sound like? Or would you rather come in and take a look for yourself?” He proceeded to neigh.
I laughed and shook my head. “No thanks, John Stud. You get that pony corralled all by yourself. When you’re ready, come down and have pizza and beer.” I walked out and laughed again when I heard neighing and pawing from behind the door. The dogs cocked their heads and stared at the door.
I was almost to the kitchen when I had a sudden thought. I was not expecting company today–especially of the male variety. I tried to remember how I’d left my bathroom. Did I leave any unmentionable or humiliating things lying around?
I chewed my fingernails and feared the worst. J.J. came whistling around the corner and stopped in the doorway. I took one look and my brain turned to mush. Fresh from the shower, he wore an old threadbare football jersey with the sleeves torn off. His sweat pants rode low on his hips and his feet were bare. He looked good enough to take a bite out of and smelled like a dream. That wonderful combination of soap and testosterone; ggrrrrr, come to Mama! I pulled up short, but sneaked in one more whiff. Whoa, there! Get hold of yourself, girl.
He smiled slowly and knowingly. I thought my goose was cooked. He put his hands on his hips. I held my breath and he let out with, “Where’re all da women at?” That broke the spell. I exhaled and we laughed. I shoved a beer in his hand. He grabbed up the box of pizza and headed for the living room. He put the pizza down on the coffee table and flopped on the couch.
I picked up the remote, turned on cable T.V. An NBA game was on.
“You ok with sports?”
“Unless you got Debbie Does Dallas on tape.”
“What is with you tonight?”
He looked thoughtful and then confused. “I don’t know, but I’ll stop it now.”
I turned off the television and turned on the DVD player. “How about a movie instead?”
“Great idea,” he said. “What do you want to watch?”
I thought about it. “That depends. Are you in a Lethal Weapon mood or a Rush Hour mood?”
He laughed and shouted, “Do You Understand The Words That Are Coming Out Of My Mouth?”
“All-righty then. Rush Hour it is.”
“Buzz, you are the perfect woman!”
I batted my eyes. �
��Yeah, yeah, move over and quit hogging all the pizza.”
We polished off the pizza and laughed all over again at the outrageous comedy of Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker. At the end, he went to grab the remote. I dove after it.
“Wait! The outtakes are the best part!”
He settled back and said, “Aww, man! I almost forgot.” We laughed some more.
I wiped the tears from my eyes. “Wow. I needed that.”
“I agree. I think I’m a whole new man. Thanks, Buzz.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you, J.J. It’s not quite the same watching it with Wesley. Besides, he eats most of the pizza.”
He yawned and popped the top of another beer. He settled back. I turned light classical on the stereo. I took the pizza box and the paper plates to the kitchen.
I dumped them in the trash and thought, “Now that’s how I like to do the dishes.” I wiped down the counters and turned off the lights.
“Wes, Hill, do you guys need to go out one more time?” There was no scuffling, and no vying for position to be first out the door. Odder than that, there was no noise at all coming from the other room. I walked quietly to the door and peeked around the corner. I smiled and sighed. This was a Kodak moment if I ever saw one. J.J. was sound asleep, slouched sideways on the couch. His untouched beer was perched precariously on the table. Wesley was on the other half of the couch, grinning proudly and waving his tail. Hill was in J.J.‘s lap, daring me to chase her off.
I went to the fridge and grabbed a hot dog. I stood in the doorway and broke it in half. Wes was my slave in about two seconds. Hilary quietly got off J.J.‘s lap and waddled over to get her half. I pulled a quilt from the linen closet, threw it over J.J., and turned out the lights.
The dogs both looked at me questioningly. “Come on, kids, go to bed.” They trotted down the hall to my bedroom. Wes jumped up on the king-sized bed and I lifted Hilary. By the time I got out of the shower they were both snoring softly. Wes was sprawled across one side, with Hill curled up next to his big warm belly. I crawled in next to them and turned off the light. I lay listening to their familiar snorts and snores and drifted off to sleep.
* * *
I was dreaming about great smelling guys, and one in particular. I came slowly awake still dreaming of burying my face into a hairy chest smelling of Irish Spring and man. My subconscious mind told me I would probably wake up with a face full of dog butt.
My semi-conscious mind, however, registered a couple of indisputable facts. One, Wes was on the floor, licking my hand. Two, I was now fully awake and I still smelled Irish Spring and man, but I also felt very warm skin under my chin and nose. I opened my eyes and registered a third indisputable fact. I was face first in J.J.‘s chest, and there was a pool of drool next to my mouth. I made an unladylike slurp and J.J. moved the hair out of my eyes. I looked into those startling blue eyes and melted.
“Good morning, beautiful.” Hilary preened and I let her have the spotlight. I had to–she looked much better than I did this morning.
I lifted my head and said, “It is a good thing we’re friends, or I might have had to kill you. Where did you come from anyway?”
He picked that moment to stretch and wipe the wet spot from his chest. “The dogs woke me up, so I took them for a walk. The coffee was already made so I poured a cup. I took a phone call from one of my deputies, and I came in here to wake you up.” He pointed to the cup on the night stand. “I leaned over to wake you up and you rolled me over the top of you.” He clutched his heart. “I was rendered helpless when you burrowed in and flopped face first on my chest. That was about, oh…” he consulted his watch, “Fifteen minutes ago.”
“Oh geez, J.J. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was my pleasure. Believe me, it was all my pleasure.”
I yawned. “What the heck time is it, anyway?” He started to answer me when my phone rang. I heard my mom’s voice and let the machine pick it up.
24
Alejandro and Moe picked up the horse trailer from Mitchell Field Airport. They arrived back at the Miller Farm by 10:50 a.m. Bill waved them to a stop and gave them instructions for the placement of the trailer behind his barn. Alejandro thanked him and drove around the barn. Moe got out to direct and Alejandro started to back the trailer perpendicular to the northwest corner of the barn. Moe moved, so Alejandro could see him in the mirrors, and tripped and fell forward over something sticking out of the ground. Alejandro slammed on the brakes and jumped out to check on Moe. He found Moe staring at the ground, brushing at the dirt. Moe sat up and shoved some more dirt aside with his heels, and looked down again.
Lifting his ball cap and scratching his head, Moe looked at Alejandro with a bewildered expression on his face. “Well, I’ll be dipped. Montoya, would you look at that?”
Alejandro moved closer and looked at where Moe pointed. A patch of brown hide and a piece of halter could be seen where Moe had scraped away the topsoil. Alejandro squatted and brushed more soil away. He inhaled sharply and made a small noise when he uncovered a horse’s head. Moe just stood there looking baffled. Alejandro realized he was looking at the mare from which the bad guys had removed the bricks of cocaine two days ago.
“Oh my God!” He fell backward, scrambled to put distance between himself and the dead horse. He choked back bile and fought to control his breathing. He didn’t realize he was praying aloud until Moe put a hand on his shoulder, startling him. Alejandro jerked his head around. Moe backed away from him, wary of the desolate look on his face.
“¡Margarita, mi caballito!” Alejandro looked down at the little mare, speaking softly, stroking the horse’s face. Not turning from the horse, he said quietly to Moe, “Call Sheriff Green right away. This is my mare they murdered at Graff’s.”
Moe fumbled with his cell phone and finally hit speed dial. J.J. answered right away. Moe moved away from the truck. Alejandro listened as Moe spoke in low tones.
“J.J., it’s Darryl. Uh no, Sheriff, I’m the other Darryl. Darryl Swanson.” He enunciated into the phone. “I’m your deputy you sent to Milwaukee with Montoya.” He sighed again. “Yeah, that’s me. Moe or Tom or whatever you want to call me. Anyway, we’re over at Bill Miller’s place, parking the horse trailer. No, we didn’t run into the barn. Listen…I uh, stumbled across a dead horse.” He glanced at Alejandro and winced. “Yeah. Montoya says it looks like the one he claims died over at Graff’s the other night… Okay, we won’t touch it. Huh? Montoya? No, boss, he looks like he saw a ghost. Yeah–good idea, she’ll know what to do… Okay. Will do, Sheriff. Yep, you too. Bye.”
He flipped the phone shut and walked back to Alejandro. “Come on, Montoya. Gerry Miller will have coffee on. We can’t touch the scene until J.J. gets here anyway.”
Alejandro drew in a shaky breath and wiped his brow with a bandana. “Whew. Yeah. Okay. Where do you want me to go?” Alejandro took Moe’s arm and he helped him up. He was still trembling as they slowly walked to the back door of Miller’s house. Moe knocked twice. They heard a cheery, “Come on in; the coffee’s on!”
Moe held open the screen door and Alejandro took a tentative step inside the kitchen. Gerry was just turning from the stove when she caught sight of Alejandro. “Oh, young man, what is wrong? Are you hurt?”
Alejandro shook his head, giving her a small smile. “No, ma’am. I’m okay, but I think we have some disturbing news.” He turned to Moe.
Moe took over. “Ger, we found what we think is a horse buried out back of your barn. Sheriff Green is on his way. Montoya here is a little shook up over the whole thing, so we thought we’d beg a cup of coffee off you and wait until the sheriff gets here.”
Gerry clasped her hands in front of her. “I should think so! Sit, sit, I have just the thing!” She turned and bustled back to the stove, snatching up the pan she just took out of the oven. She muttered to herself, “Dead horse, oof dah! Wait until I tell the girls, wait until I tell Buzz!”
She grabbed a plate and pried wh
atever was in the pan onto the plate. “Here, young man, have some of my rhubarb crunch. It will make you feel better.” She distractedly plopped the plate and a fork in front of him, picked up the coffee pot and filled two cups. “Darryl, Mr. Montoya, would you excuse me a moment?” Without waiting for an answer, she scurried into the next room.
Wiping her hands on the towel tucked at her waist, Gerry picked up the phone and hit the speed dial. “Buzz? Mom. I think you’d better come over as soon as you get this message. Something about a dead horse some guy named Montoya found buried behind our barn.”
* * *
I lay in my bed listening to the answering machine as my mom prattled on. I opened my eyes a crack and saw J.J. smiling down at me. I could not yet put together a coherent thought, let alone decipher what Mom was talking about. I pushed the hair out of my eyes and looked blearily at J.J. He was still grinning at me. Mom said something about coming over for lunch.
I sat up suddenly, grabbed J.J. by the arm, and tried to focus on the dial on his watch. “Lunch? What time did you say it was, J.J.?”
“I didn’t, but it’s going on 11:25.”
“Oh, crap!” I scrambled from the bed and sprinted for the bathroom.
As I closed the door, I heard, “Nice outfit, Miller.”
I looked down and had to laugh. I was wearing an old comfortable tee shirt Fred gave me a million years ago. It had a piano and a piano bench on it. On the bench was a pile of poop. The caption below read, Beethoven’s Last Movement. This was paired with my favorite Green Bay Packers satin boxers. I must admit, I was quite the fashion statement. “You should see me when I really dress up,” I yelled through the door.
I wet my hair down, yanked on a bra, brushed my teeth, and grabbed a sweatshirt with a picture of a Holstein cow and the sign for pi below it.
J.J. gave me a quizzical look when I came out of the bathroom. I elbowed him and said, “Get it? Cow pi?”
He moaned and threw an arm around my neck. He whistled through his teeth. “Hey Hill, Wes, let’s go to Grandma’s house!” We had to jump out of the way or get stampeded on our way out the door.