by Sharon Sala
Maria’s heart was even lighter as she began to retrace her steps back down the promenade toward the escalator. It was almost two o’clock, and she was hungry, so she headed up to the food court.
A short while later she was digging into a plate of egg rolls and broccoli-chicken stir-fry from the Chinese eatery. A young woman with two small children was sitting at a nearby table. The kids were digging through Happy Meal boxes from McDonald’s, while the mother was tackling an order of chili cheese fries. The children were talking and eating and playing with their toys. Their mother’s smile as she listened was both complacent and proud. Maria couldn’t help but wonder if there had been times like this between her and her own mother, and wondered what their lives would have been like now if her mother hadn’t been murdered.
Before she could think herself into another funk, her cell phone rang. She quickly swallowed, checked the caller ID and smiled as she answered.
“Hello.”
“It’s me,” Bodie said, as he leaned back in his chair and pushed a desk drawer shut with his boot.
“Hi, me.”
He grinned. “What are you doing?”
“Eating stir-fry and egg rolls at the food court at Woodland Hills.”
“Yum. So…you’ve been shopping.”
“Not so much. Just looking for a way to kill time. I’m not good at sitting around and waiting. Do you have anything new to tell me?”
“Not pertaining to the case,” Bodie said. “But I wondered if you would like to have dinner with me tonight. It’ll be close to eight before I can get away. If that’s too late just—”
“How rude. First invite me out to eat and then start making excuses for why I shouldn’t accept.”
He grinned again. This attitude was exactly why he wanted to see her again.
“So are you saying you’ll go?”
“That’s six hours from now. I’m pretty sure I’ll be hungry again by then, and I suppose I can squeeze in a little time for you.”
He laughed out loud, then frowned when Dave pointed at him from across the room and grinned. He lowered his voice and swiveled his chair away from Dave’s line of sight.
“I’ll pick you up at your room around eight o’clock.”
“Why don’t I just watch for you from the lobby? When you pull up in the breezeway, I’ll come out, and you won’t have to park the car.”
“Yeah, sure…whatever,” Bodie said.
“Where are we going to eat?” she asked.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Do I have to dress up? Tell me now, because I’m at the mall and I didn’t bring any dressy clothes with me.”
“It’s a nice place, but not crystal-and-china nice. Just really good food.”
“Okay. I can handle that. See you later, then.”
“Yeah. Later,” he said, and was still smiling when he hung up. When he turned around, Dave was leaning against his desk.
“Who’s the woman?”
Bodie frowned. “None of your damned business.”
Dave arched an eyebrow. “Dang. You usually share info. What’s up with this one?”
“She’s not for sharing,” Bodie said.
From the moment Becky Clemmons got to work and sat down in her chair, she was on the job. There was no time to think about Mary’s unexpected return or Sally’s belongings, which she’d promised to get out of storage. As always, the weather had an impact on the calls that came in, and when it started raining, the number of wrecks and fender benders went up. By the time her shift was over, she was tired, but the adrenaline was still racing. The storage company wasn’t far from her house, and she had a good two hours before it would get dark. Even though it was still raining, she couldn’t get the task out of her mind. The sooner she got the boxes, the quicker she would see Mary again.
And hopefully whatever was in those boxes would be the trigger Maria needed to remember what she’d seen.
Thirteen
T he rain had abated by the time Bodie left for the hotel to pick Maria up. As soon as he pulled beneath the breezeway, she came out, smiling at the doorman who held the door. She was wearing a pair of dark pants and a pink knit top beneath a light gray jacket, but he smiled when he saw her shoes. She was still wearing boots. A woman after his own heart.
Bodie tried not to mind that the doorman was watching her. He couldn’t blame the guy. Maria Slade was worth way more than a second look. He jumped out and opened the car door for her as she approached.
“Hi,” she said, flashing a smile at him this time.
“You look beautiful,” he said softly.
“Thank you,” she said quickly, and ducked her head as she slid into the seat and he closed the door behind her.
Last night Bodie had made it patently clear how he felt about her. She wished they’d met under different circumstances. Part of her wanted to get to know him better, but she kept reminding herself that this wasn’t why she’d come. She felt guilty about being attracted to the detective who was leading the investigation, as if those emotions would lessen the honesty of her quest.
Bodie slid behind the wheel. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“I won’t waste your money, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she drawled.
He laughed. As he drove away, it occurred to him that he’d probably laughed more with her in the last two days than he had in months with anyone else. It also occurred to him that this was moving way too fast. He was still a cop, and she was the only witness in a murder case—if only she could remember what she’d seen. His lieutenant would frown on the fact that he’d asked her out, but he figured if sometime during the night they talked about the case, dinner could loosely be classified as part of the investigation.
Becky got home with the boxes just before dark. She pulled her car into the garage, then closed the door behind her. Too tired to unload them now, she opted to leave them in the trunk and went inside to change clothes and make herself some dinner.
Later, as she was cleaning up the kitchen, her curiosity got the better of her. She went after the boxes and carried them one by one into the living room and stacked them against the fireplace. She wanted to go through them right now but felt as if she should wait for Maria.
Instead, she turned on the television and tried to concentrate, but her thoughts kept going back to the boxes. What if the clue to bringing Mary’s memory back was inside one of them? What if there was something in there that would be instrumental in bringing a killer to justice?
Finally her curiosity won out. She turned off the television. Maybe she would open just one. She didn’t remember a thing about what was in any of them, and as she tore into the first one, it hit her that this felt a little bit like digging into Sally Blake’s grave.
Franklin Sheets’ eyes narrowed as he slipped the throw-away phone he’d bought earlier out of the desk drawer. If he followed through on this call, he would be setting a wheel in motion that had the possibility of crushing him. On the other hand, there was too much at stake for him to just sit back and hope his name never came up in the investigation of Sally Blake’s murder. He thought of the man he was going to call. A man he knew only by the name of Harley.
The number began to ring. Franklin shifted nervously in his chair, then glanced toward his office door, making sure it was firmly shut.
“Hello?”
The voice was raspy and abrupt. Franklin tried to match the layer of testosterone and failed miserably.
“I want to speak to Harley.”
“I’m Harley. How did you get this number?”
“Melvin Powers.”
There was a long moment of silence, and then the sound of someone hawking and spitting. Franklin’s belly rolled, but he gritted his teeth and waited.
“So what do you want?” Harley asked.
“I have a problem I need to go away.”
“Permanently?”
“Yes.”
“Twenty-five thousand. Ten up front. The balance after the job is done.”<
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Franklin’s gut rolled. He was unable to believe he was really doing this.
“That’s agreeable,” he said.
“I need a name and location,” Harley snapped.
“A man named Samuel Gene Vincent. Might go by the name of Tank. Owns a beer and bait shop down at Lake Eufaula. I don’t have exact directions.”
“I’ll find him,” Harley said. “Transfer the first ten thousand dollars into this account.” He recited a string of numbers. “The balance goes into the same account only after you hear from me. Screw me over and it’ll be the last thing you do.”
“I’m good for it,” Franklin said. “Is there anything else you need?” he asked.
“Your patience,” Harley drawled.
Franklin could hear the man laughing as the line went dead in his ear. He swallowed nervously as he slipped the phone into his pocket. From all accounts, Harley was a bad-ass of the first order—a man without a conscience. But Franklin also knew that if he was going to scour his past clean, that was the kind of man he needed to do the job.
“Hot or mild sauce?” Bodie asked.
“Some of both?” Maria countered, as the waitress slid a heaping plate of barbequed pork ribs in front of her, accompanied by tangy cole slaw and a mountain of hand-cut home fries.
“You got it,” Bodie said, and set the two bottles of extra sauce in front of them in the middle of the table. He slapped a handful of extra napkins right beside them, then looked up. “You think you can wade through that bad boy?”
She arched an eyebrow and reached for the sauce. “I already told you, I won’t waste your money. You just worry about your own plate, and leave me and mine alone.”
He grinned. “My dad is gonna love you,” he said, and then stopped and sighed. That was a huge assumption that hadn’t needed to be voiced. “Well, hell, sorry. That just slipped out. I’ll be putting some food in my mouth now, instead of my foot, okay?”
“It’s okay,” Maria said, pointing a French fry at him. “My dad would have liked you.” Then she popped the fry in her mouth and chewed.
They ate and bantered, traded sauces and sides, while the time slipped away. By the time the meal was over, they were both satiated, and so at ease with each other that they no longer thought about the fact that three days ago they hadn’t even known each other existed.
As they left the restaurant, they realized right away that the wind had risen and, once again, the sky was threatening rain.
Maria eyed the clouds. “Doesn’t the sun ever shine in Oklahoma?”
Bodie grinned. “I think maybe you ate too many ribs in there, sugar. It’s nighttime. The sun never shines after dark.”
Maria laughed. “You know what I mean.”
“It’s spring. Right now we’re grateful for the rain, ’cause the likelihood is we’ll get a two-month dry spell come July and August.”
“Oh. Well. Forget I complained. I just hope it’s not another stormy night.”
Bodie slid an arm around her shoulders as they walked across the parking lot toward the car.
“I know…but it’s par for the course around here this time of year.”
By the time they were pulling out of the parking lot, the rain was coming down. Bodie turned on the windshield wipers, then the car radio. “If there are any storm warnings, they’ll broadcast them on this station.”
As he drove, she nervously eyed the night sky and the intermittent cloud to ground lightning, then decided to change the subject from storms to the turmoil in her own life.
“You said during dinner that the hypnotherapist you were going to call is away, right?”
“Yes. There are others, but I can’t vouch for them personally, like I could her. I’ll run it by Lieutenant Carver in the morning, but if you have the time to spare, I’d rather wait for her.”
“I’m making time to see this through to the end, no matter how long it takes,” she said.
“Have you heard from Becky Clemmons?” Bodie asked.
“No. Have you?”
Maria frowned. “She was going to call you, remember?”
“Have you thought about spending some time with her? Maybe spending a little time with someone who knew you and your mother that well would help.”
When she didn’t comment as he braked for a red light, he glanced at her profile. Other than the fact that he thought her beautiful, which was becoming more and more of a fact to him, the streetlights coming through the windows cast the shadows of raindrops on her face, making it appear as if she were crying. It looked so real, he took a second look to make sure it was just an illusion.
“Is there anyone else mentioned in that journal that you’re planning to see?” he asked.
“No. Remember, Dad only knew Sally and me less than a week before…before it happened. And he spent a good portion of each evening and every night at the church that was hosting the revival.”
Bodie accelerated through the intersection as the light changed. “So was your dad always a traveling preacher?”
“Yes, but he quit after Holly came to live with us. At least that’s what my sisters and I finally figured out after all those secrets were revealed. He married Mom… Hannah, after Holly joined the family, then quit traveling and preaching, but I barely remember our life before Hannah. The family ranch was in Montana, and that’s where we all grew up. It’s actually kind of weird, learning about all this from the journals since he died…like we never really knew him. Our whole perception of who we were is skewed.”
“I don’t think you’re going to remember all that much without hypnosis, though, do you?”
“I don’t know…maybe,” Maria said. “Are you getting flak about the case? I mean…you reopened it, but you still don’t actually have any new leads to follow.”
“I’m optimistic,” Bodie said, then grinned. “I’m always optimistic.”
“I’ve noticed,” Maria said. “Can we say…steam-roller?”
He had a feeling she was talking about more than the case—like maybe his declaration of interest in her last night—and decided to say so.
“There you go, putting me back outside your boundaries. How are we going to make any progress if you continue to keep me at arm’s length?”
“And here I thought the progress we were hoping for had to do with my mother’s murder.”
“Well, yeah…that, too.”
She shook her head, then pointed. “There’s the hotel.”
Bodie sighed. Unless he could work some magic, this meant the end of their evening. He pulled up by the front entrance, then put the car in Park.
“Call me in the morning and let me know what your lieutenant thinks about another hypnotherapist,” Maria said.
“So this means you’re not inviting me up?”
“You’re such a good detective. You figured that out without me having to say a thing.”
“A man can hope.”
“I’m not saying it’s impossible. I think it’s good to set goals for yourself,” Maria said.
Bodie slipped a hand behind her neck and gently pulled her close.
“I’ll settle for this,” he said softly, and leaned forward until their lips met.
The kiss was brief, but there was no mistaking the urgency behind it.
“Sleep well,” Bodie said, as he turned her loose.
“You, too, and thank you for the company and that wonderful meal.”
“You’re welcome, honey. Don’t worry about the storm, okay? If it gets really bad, I promise I’ll call and wake you up so you can get to shelter.”
“My knight in shining armor,” Maria said, then got out of the car and headed for the hotel door. She paused just before she went inside, turned and waved.
Bodie waved back, then waited for her to go in. It wasn’t until she finally disappeared from his sight that he put the car in gear and drove away.
Harley had no problem finding Vincent’s bait shop. His plan was to check the place out during working hours and
see what he was up against. He wheeled into the parking area, then strolled inside as if it was something he did on a regular basis. He paused in the doorway long enough to locate the cooler where the beer was housed, then moved toward it. A six-pack of Coors was calling to him. He picked it up, along with a large sack of chips, and headed for the cash register.
Sam eyed his customer as he moved toward the cooler. He’d never seen him before, which didn’t mean anything, but considering the location of his shop, not many strangers found him. When the man headed toward the counter with his purchases, Tank got himself a better look.
His head was shaved like a skinhead, and his clothing reflected a biker lifestyle. He sported several tattoos, was wearing a black leather vest and had cut the sleeves off his T-shirt. His boots were studded with silver studs, and his jeans were faded from countless washings. When he walked, he jangled from the amount of chain he was wearing. But despite all the gear, Sam couldn’t help thinking it was all for show.
“How you doin’?” Sam asked, as the man set the beer and chips on the counter.
“Good. Good. Looks like it’s gonna rain tonight.”
Sam nodded as he rang up the purchases. “Anything else you need?”
“Nope. That’ll be it,” Harley said, and pulled out a handful of bills and peeled off enough to pay for his stuff, then pocketed the change. “See ya’,” he said, and flipped Sam the peace sign as he left.
At that point Sam glanced at the clock. It was after six. Time to close up. He emptied the till into a bank bag, and then locked the front door, turned the Open sign to Closed and locked the back door on his way to his house.
Harley popped the top on one of the beers as he got to his car. He watched as Vincent began locking up for the night, then smiled to himself as he drove away. He’d seen all he needed to see. Granted, the man was big, but he was old and out of shape. He wouldn’t be an issue.
Harley intended to wait ’til later, when the man went to sleep. No need making things harder than they had to be. He backtracked to a restaurant a few miles away, went in and ordered a chicken-fried steak that was half the size of his plate, with mashed potatoes and gravy, and a side order of corn.