Mourning Dove

by Donna Simmons

  “Just enjoy the moment and relax.”

  “I don’t think I need the wine,” she whispered. She could feel the gentle touch of his fingertips when he pressed them into the arch of her right foot. “God, that feels good.”

  “Just close your eyes again and let yourself go. Elaina would like us to join a foundation board they’re putting together. She’s going to call you to invite you to a dinner she’s having next Monday. I’d like it very much if you said yes. It’s a good political move.” He put her right foot down and picked up the left.

  “What kind of foundation?” Sara was trying to focus but her brain seemed to have shut off.

  “The Starr Foundation for the Performing Arts, I think that’s what Robert called it.”

  “Mmm, that’s good.”

  CHAPTER 9

  “Coffee, sleepy head; time to rise and shine.”

  “What?” Sara’s eyes opened and reality crept in. She sprung upright in an unfamiliar bed. Jonathon Pierce was standing at the foot of it, wrapped in a burgundy terrycloth robe that ended at his knees. He was holding two black mugs, with a huge grin plastered beneath his mustache.

  “Oh my God! What have you done?”

  “What do you think I’ve done?”

  “This time, Jonathon, you’ve gone too far. Where are my clothes? I’m leaving now.” She tried to sit up without dropping the sheet. On the other side of the bed, she saw the imprint on a second pillow.

  “Calm yourself, Sara. It isn’t what you think.”

  “Calm myself! Calm myself? You have got to be kidding. I didn’t think you were the kind of pervert who would take advantage of an exhausted woman, but I was wrong. I knew it was a mistake to let you talk me into coming out here in one car. Now, look at this!”

  “I’m looking and it sure looks good from my point of view. There’s a beautiful woman in my bed, spunky, and starved for…”

  “I am not starved for anything, damn you! Now I’m going to have to find another job, I’ll probably lose that cute little house I’m about to close on, and my reputation is shot because of your juvenile maneuvering to get me into your bed. How could you?! Jesus, where are my clothes?”

  “Calm down! Damn it! And, listen.”

  “All right I’m listening.” She glared at him trying to spew her anger by telepathy.

  “I was about to say, a beautiful woman in my bed, spunky, and starved for a strong cup of coffee I just happen to have in my hands.”

  “No, you weren’t. But I will take the cup if you’re still offering. What the hell happened last night? And I want a straight answer, not any of your suggestive comments.”

  “What makes you think something didn’t happen between us?”

  “Because I wouldn’t have been willing!”

  “All right, no more teasing. You fell asleep on my couch. Unlike you, I had more alcohol than I should. While I was massaging your sore feet, I got sleepy, too. When I found myself drifting off, I knew I had to get us more comfortable. We’d have woken this morning, stiff and sore. I carried you to bed. Don’t look at me like that. Nothing happened.”

  “Continue.”

  “I didn’t think you wanted your dress ruined, so I removed it.”

  “And?”

  “There isn’t anything more. I slept beside you because this is my room and the bed in the guest room has been removed to allow for more of my art and trophy collection. There really is no other place to put the long horns and no other bed where we both could get a good night sleep. Here’s your coffee. I’ve called the office and told them you’re working from home this morning.”

  “And, how do we explain my car in the lot?”

  “I drove you home after a late night with the Starrs.”

  “It might work, but there will still be those who think I’m sleeping with you to climb to the top.”

  “You’re better than that. I don’t give a tinker’s damn what others think. And, for the record, we did sleep together.”

  Sara threw the pillow at him. It landed at his feet. Unfortunately, he didn’t spill his coffee. “Get out of here while I dress. Then, please take me to the hotel so that I can change. I need to get to the office so we don’t lose the whole day at work.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’m at your service.” He reached up to tip an imaginary Stetson.

  ***

  “Hullo,” Ron whispered into the phone.

  “It’s Sara. I’m sorry to wake you at this hour but I need help.”

  “Sara, what’s wrong?”

  “My arm is inflamed by some kind of bite or allergic reaction. I’ve looked through all the medicines I brought with me from the house and can’t find the prescription cream I use for it. Can you check the medicine cabinet and see if I left it there?”

  In the rumpled covers of his bed, he pulled up the sheet and scooted toward the headboard. He adjusted the covers over the naked body beside him and squinted at the alarm clock beside his bed, “Sara, it’s almost one in the morning, just put a tea bag on it and go back to sleep.”

  “I haven’t been to sleep, and I can’t get to sleep, until I stop the pain in my arm! I’ve gone through three tea bags since I got in, and I used another two at Cass’s this evening. It’s not working. Please, just check the medicine cabinet for me. If it’s there, I’ll drive down and pick it up. If not, I’m going to have to find an emergency room and wait all night ‘til they get around to treating it. Please, just check the cabinet.”

  The woman beside him stirred awake and looked up at him with questioning eyes. She began to run a manicured hand with white tipped nails over his abdomen, swirling the dark hair below his waist, bringing his body’s interest to attention again.

  “Okay, Sara,” he said with a distracted voice. “I’ll look and call you back.”

  “No, don’t hang up, just go check. I’ll wait on the line.”

  He slid out of bed and turned back to Nancy Lynn putting a finger to his lips. She raised her arms above her head grabbing the top of the headboard, exposing a lush set of breasts God didn’t make. First time in months he finally got some action, and his errant wife splashed cold water on the event.

  In the bathroom, holding the cordless to his ear, he checked the cabinet. “Sara, the only tube of anything in the medicine cabinet is Preparation H. You’re going to have to use the emergency room, or put up with the itch ‘til morning.”

  “Did you check the linen shelves behind the bathroom door?”

  “I’ll look.” He closed the door and sifted through a plastic storage container on the shelf above the empty space where Sara always stacked the towels. He was going to have to do laundry soon.

  “I’ve got a small white tube of steroid cream here. Is that the one?”

  “Does it have a prescription label with my name on it or is it the over-the-counter cream you got from CVS?”

  “The label would have been on the box, Sara. There’s no box, just the tube.” His patience was thinning.

  “Well, what is the name of the product listed on the tube?”

  “It says triammo something. You know, I can’t pronounce those drug names. Wait; on the bottom of the tube it says Rx only. It’s got to be the one.”

  “Good, I’ll be there in forty minutes.”

  “Wait, Sara . . .” He was talking to a dial tone. “Shit.”

  ***

  On Thursday morning, Matthew Farrell picked up his phone and hit redial. “What’s going on, JT?”

  “Is that any way to start a conversation?”

  “What did you do to Sara Stafford?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. The Mourning Dove is fine. She’s getting ready to party again next Monday.”

  “What do you mean party?”

  “The Starrs want the honor of her presence at a formal dinner. For that matter they want your presence there, too.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’ve pushed as hard as I dare without losing my cover.
I hesitate to admit this but the chemistry just isn’t there. I want to bring in the second team. Get close. Get her to warm up to you. When it breaks, it’s going to happen quickly.”

  “I’m talking about what happened Tuesday night.”

  “She was with me at the Starrs’ cocktail party at my place. Nothing happened. She was a regular social butterfly, nurturing friendships, old and new.”

  “What happened after?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I tapped into a conversation she had with her friend, Cass. What did you do to her after the party?”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said she fell asleep on your couch and woke up in your bed. Did you get her drunk? Did you drug her? What else did you do to her?”

  “Whoa, you’re acting like a jealous lover. What the hell do you care as long as we get the information we need? And you still haven’t told me what she said?”

  “I want to know what you did to her. Then, I’ll tell you what she said.”

  “Are you questioning my methods?”

  “JT!”

  “The last time I looked I was in charge of this project!”

  Farrell let dead silence fill the moment.

  “I slipped a sedative into her drink at the end of the party but she barely had a sip. It was enough, though, to do what I needed. I injected a little compliance into her while she drifted out. It made no difference. She knows nothing. I think her husband does though. I have another team player checking him out. Now tell me what she shared with her friend.”

  “If that’s all you did, why did she wake up in your bed?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business but I thought I’d give the attraction angle one more try.”

  “Backfired on you, didn’t it.”

  “Okay Farrell, spill.”

  “Apparently, she’s allergic to rubbing alcohol. You injected the drug into her arm and cleaned the spot with an alcohol wipe, didn’t you?”

  “Go on.”

  “By the time she met her friend for dinner, the rash was obvious and spreading. They started to put two and two together. She’s already suspicious of your attentions. You have to back off.”

  “I’ve already figured that out. You’re in as of this Monday night. I’ve cleared it with Robert. Put on your charm. His wife loves to play cupid. Let her see your interest in Sara and Elaina will keep the two of you together whenever she can.”

  “Where will you be while I’m romancing the dove?”

  “I’ve got a bug in California to squash.”

  ***

  “Good morning, little lady.”

  Jonathon Pierce was standing in Sara’s doorway in a crisp business suit with a chipper grin beneath his mustache. At least one of them got a good night’s sleep. She leaned back in her chair and finished off a lukewarm cup of cocoa looking at him through tired eyes recently doctored with the eye drops she’d been using far too often.

  “You have a rough night?” He was baiting her.

  “Just a late one. What can I do for you, Mr. Pierce?”

  “That’s very formal and the last I noticed we’re both here a full hour before the rest of the crew. What happened to Jonathon, or Jon?” He raised his eyebrows in question.

  “After Tuesday night, I think we better make sure we know the positions we both hold here.”

  “It will look strange to the others if you suddenly start calling me Mr. Pierce.”

  “Maybe I should just call you, sir?”

  “Pull back your claws, Sara. We don’t have the time for it and I don’t have the patience.” The steel was back in his voice.

  “I apologize. Although there is no excuse for rudeness, I’m working on two hours sleep.”

  “Is anything wrong?”

  “A minor medical emergency had me up most of the night.” She placed her left hand over the still tender but diminishing redness on her right arm.

  “Something we can do to help? We have a full commissary downstairs that may have whatever you need.”

  “I took care of it.”

  “You want me to get you a fresh cup of tea?”

  “No thanks, I’ve had enough tea for awhile.”

  “What’s that in your cup?”

  “Cocoa, and don’t ask.”

  His hands up in the air, he backed out of her office. “Staff meeting at ten, I’ll need everything you’ve got on the San Francisco division.”

  Great, he wanted the only information she didn’t have. Sara swallowed her pride. “Jonathon?”

  She heard his chuckle. “Yes, Sara?”

  From her doorway, she could see his smug grin. He leaned on the door jam to his office with his arms folded across his chest.

  “Two things: neither Steve nor I can get Ross to respond to our requests for information, therefore the data on San Francisco will be minimal; and remember, I’ll be leaving for the weekend at four today.”

  “Today is Thursday.”

  “Yes, my house closing is at four-thirty, and you gave me the rest of the weekend to get moved into my new place. I’ll still be available through email and my cell.”

  “I gave you that time off?”

  “Yep, you said: take whatever time you need.”

  “I’ll have to be careful to define my statements better in the future, won’t I?”

  “All kidding aside, it is all right that I take this time, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, of course. I’m just trying to get a rise from you. Try using threats with Ross.”

  “I believe when a person threatens, she should be prepared to follow through with action. Do I have the authority to do that?”

  “What do you want to threaten him with?”

  “Termination is justified for flagrantly ignoring a direct order from a superior and thereby sabotaging the company’s ability to function as dictated by company policy. Will you and Robert back me on that if I have adequate documentation to support my action?”

  “Wow! You read the whole 1,500 page tome we call the policy manual?”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “I won’t answer that. Threaten first and let me know how that works. You said Steve was also trying to communicate with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Steve was gathering data by region at my request. When he couldn’t get a response by email or phone, I took over. So far we only have silence from Ross. He is intentionally ignoring us.”

  “Did you check to see if your messages were getting through?”

  “Of course, I also communicated with the administrative assistant in the district office. And before you ask, I left a message for the district manager to call me. His secretary informs me he is out of the office on a business trip. Something isn’t kosher in that division; in my gut it doesn’t feel good.”

  Jonathon nodded his agreement. “Keep at it today, and I’ll see what I can do from my end. If things aren’t resolved by Monday one of us will have to go out there.”

  ***

  By late afternoon Sara was packing her briefcase and laptop to go when she heard a timid knock at her door. Standing in her doorway in a royal blue designer dress with an iridescent feather boa draped around her neck was a petite lady whose smile was as understated as her outfit was not. “Mrs. Starr, I’m glad you’re here. I planned to send you a note thanking you for including me Tuesday night.”

  “My dear, Sara, I have come to thank you for stepping in at the last moment and rescuing my party and my plans. This could have been the disaster of the decade—at least for me. I’ve come to invite you to join us this Monday night. We’re giving a small dinner party at the house. The cleaners have promised that everything will be back to normal with no hint of disaster. Will you come?”

  “It will be my honor. You said it’s a small dinner party? Is it a special occasion? Should I bring a gift, or bottle of wine?”

  “Oh, no dear, just bring your smile. Many people who were at Jonathon’s on Tuesd
ay will be with us. Robert and I are organizing a foundation for the arts. I’m using this dinner as an introduction to those whose talents I would love to have on board. You have such wonderful diplomatic skills I know you’ll be a perfect asset to our dinner – cocktails at six; dinner at seven. Jonathon knows the way.”

  “Jonathon Pierce is invited, too?”

  “Yes dear. You can come together.”

  Sara shuddered at the thought of repeating Tuesday night, but she couldn’t disappoint Elaina Starr. She didn’t think anyone ever had. Looking down at her watch, Sara realized if she didn’t leave right then she was going to be late for the closing. She walked around to the front of her desk with her briefcase in hand.

  “Oh dear, I’ve just caught you before you left. I won’t keep you, then; just wanted to make sure you had your invitation and my sincere thanks for last Tuesday.”

  “Thank you again, Mrs. Starr.”

  “Please, call me Elaina.”

  “Elaina, I’m glad we were able to connect. I have a house closing in twenty-five minutes, or I wouldn’t be so rushed. Please forgive me for leaving so soon.”

  “You’re buying a new home, how exciting!”

  “Yes, it is.” From her desk Sara picked up one of her new business cards for Elaina. “I’ll be out of the office until Monday morning with the move. If you need to contact me about the party or the foundation you’re planning, please call my cell number. I am so glad you were able to catch me before I left for the day, but I really have to go now.”

  “You are so sweet to think of me at such a hectic time.” Elaina held up Sara’s card then reached out to hug her. “Take your time getting to your destination; don’t try to fly down the turnpike. I’ll see you on Monday.”

  Elaina turned to leave and headed for the executive offices, trailing boa feathers and a waft of Chanel. Glancing at her watch, Sara would have to fly down the Maine Turnpike to reach the closing in time.

  CHAPTER 10

  The caravan pulled up to 542 Blue Heron Boulevard, the two trucks in the drive, the cars at the curb. Mrs. Murphy across the street peeked through the lace curtains from her living room. Ignoring the neighborhood gossip, Sara took a deep breath and headed for the house. Within minutes her parade of volunteers trooped through Ron’s living room warehouse, up the stairs and into the back bedroom that had been her private space the past two years. “Okay guys, I have boxes of books in here that all go; take the three book cases first.”