Discarded Promises

by Candice Poarch

Wendy put Agatha on the floor and the dog daintily trotted over to the gate. Quilla fed her a treat. She knew Quilla and liked her because of the treats she handed out. Quilla scooped the dog in her arms.

  “Your cake is in back. I’ll get it for you. May I get you anything else?” She rubbed the dog’s fur.

  “She really enjoys the peanut butter cookies. She’s been begging for them all week. But she’s having a birthday party tomorrow and I’m going to select some treats.”

  “Would you like individual party bags for the guests?” Quilla knew people who weren’t animal lovers wouldn’t understand this conversation, but here dog lovers catered to their animals the way mothers catered to their children.

  “I believe I will. It’s so nice to be able to get good selections at a moment’s notice. I’ve been so busy with Randall lately, it completely slipped my mind.”

  “How is he?”

  “Bursting with the need for freedom. He thinks he’s a man already. He’s a senior this year and he can’t wait to leave for college, where he won’t be under my rule.”

  Quilla chuckled. “I remember how that feels.” Although she wished her mother had been there to lay down the law. Her mother had died at the end of Quilla’s junior year. “You’re going to miss him.”

  “It really hit me on senior night—that he won’t be here next year.”

  “From what I hear, they come back before you want them to.”

  “If that’s my only problem, I’ll count myself lucky.”

  Quilla almost wanted to say, You have larger problems than that, but she kept her own counsel.

  “How many guests will Agatha have?” she asked instead.

  “Five.”

  “Six treat bags will do?”

  Wendy nodded. She made the selections of treats and one toy for each dog.

  The fact that Agatha wasn’t a show dog didn’t keep Wendy from having her hair cut in the fashion of champion poodles. Her rump was bare, and little puffs of fur covered her joints. Today Agatha wore a red blanket.

  “So how are you otherwise?” Quilla asked as she filled the bags.

  “Tired of shopping. Agatha and I decided to take a break. We’re taking a walk along the waterfront.”

  That reminded Quilla that she might have to get a Christmas gift for her father since he was trying to force his way back into her life.

  Lucky barked at Agatha through the gate. Denton had dropped her off early that morning.

  “Oh, who do we have here?” Wendy asked. “When did you get a dog?”

  “She belongs to a friend.”

  Wendy stroked Lucky’s fur, and the dog put her front paws up on the gate as if she wanted to climb over.

  “Is it all right if I pick her up?”

  “Sure, she’s friendly,” Quilla said.

  Wendy picked her up and scrubbed behind her ears. Lucky fell into her arms like a lost friend. “Pomeranians love attention.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t gotten another one. You love animals. I don’t know what I would do without mine, especially since Randall’s grown up and isn’t around much.”

  “At first I was so busy I didn’t see how I could give one the attention it requires, but now that I’ve been dog-sitting Lucky, I realize how much I miss them. I probably will get one soon.” Quilla finished the last bag and secured it. She put everything in a large shopping bag and handed it to one of her best customers.

  Two cars, one a Cadillac Escalade and the other a Mercedes, pulled into an empty parking lot and lowered their drivers’ windows. Dark had completely settled in, but halogen lights illuminated the parking lot. Quitting time had come along not that long ago, but employees had left as quickly as they could run out of the building to mix in the infamous Washington rush hour traffic. The snarl made people edgy, and the beeping of horns rent the air.

  Tom Goodwill looked down on Edward Walden’s bald head and turned down the tune Bonnie Raitt was belting out on his favorite country-and-western station. Christ, that woman was pretty. He could look at Bonnie all day. Listen to her, too, with that effortless sultry voice.

  But his mind skidded to Sadie. Now, that woman was a looker. He missed her already. He had never met a woman that beautiful in his entire life. From the first moment he saw her, when she applied for the manager’s job at the apartment building, he knew he had to have her, would have done anything to get her.

  She was new in town, and he gave her the job even though she was underqualified. Dynamite legs, a lovely handful of breasts, nice rounded ass, soft, soft curves. And she knew how to move, how to make a man feel like a man, how to give him pleasure in ways to keep him dreaming until he was with her again. He was growing hard just thinking about her. And damn it, he missed her like the living devil. She was so different from his wife. Like night and day.

  She was from the South. And he had to drum up some southern charms to court her. When he scheduled a business meeting with her, he took her to dinner to discuss the apartment building and consulted on any problems she was having. One night as he held her elbow and guided her to his car, he moved close to her.

  He got her to talk about herself, about her upbringing. He learned her mother had been a waitress at a truck stop and of the affair she had had with a white trucker. He learned that once the guy discovered she was pregnant, he changed his route and she was left to have and raise a daughter alone. She had moved to Alexandria until Sadie was fifteen, when they moved away. Sadie told him of the name-calling and her painful upbringing, and that later her mother married and had three more children, one girl and two boys. Her stepfather never completely accepted her, and she ran away from home when she was seventeen and never went back. Her younger sister had tracked her down, and now they often talked to each other and wrote letters.

  He played on her sorrowful beginnings by telling her of his loveless marriage. That his wife didn’t love him. And how lonely he was. He’d drummed up the right amount of atmosphere, told her how irresistible she was while he leaned close to her. As if he couldn’t resist her, he kissed her, then apologized profusely. Then acting as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders, he left.

  His hand shook as he took a long drag on the cigarette burning in the ashtray. They’d spent more and more time together until he’d gotten Sadie to fall for him and they made love for the first time.

  He’d died and gone to heaven.

  Edward’s beady eyes squinted at him.

  “You know what the hell’s going on?” Tom asked.

  “That woman called you, too, I take it.”

  “She did. What happened to Sadie? Said something about her turning up dead.”

  “Hell if I know.” Edward rubbed his handlebar mustache. The gray was gone thanks to Grecian Formula.

  Tom wanted to snatch the ridiculous hair off the man’s face—always stood out in a crowd.

  “The last thing we need right now is some nosy woman calling attention to us and get the cops snooping around,” Tom said.

  “You know who she is?”

  “I called the number she left. It’s to some dog shop. Crazy wife spends a fortune there on dog munchies.”

  “Figures. Sadie fed that mutt before she fed herself. Thought you were supposed to meet the wife for dinner. Some family to-do.”

  “Not until later. I’m meeting her there.”

  Edward chuckled. “Sadie—what are we going to do about her?”

  “Nothing to do, yet. Let’s lay low for a few days, see if the furor dies down.” He hoped Sadie wasn’t dead. He wanted to wring her neck for writing the damn book.

  “Find the book?”

  “No. Even if we did, the publisher probably has the original.”

  Edward grunted. “Everybody’s got to write a book. About everything. Just read in the paper about some actor getting a multi-million-dollar book deal.”

  “Everybody’s got to make a dollar.”

  “If she’s dead, who do y
ou think killed her?” Edward asked, twirling his mustache.

  “How the heck do I know? I thought everybody liked her. Except us now that she’s blasted our business to kingdom come. Everything was perfect until . . .” Agitated, he puffed on his cigarette.

  “You been toeing the line lately so your father-in-law will stop snooping, haven’t you?”

  Tom exhaled the smoke, watching it curl in the air. “Clean as a whistle. Make it to all the family dinners. Even played golf the other week.”

  Edward chuckled again. “I’m not asking for miracles.”

  “You won’t get one.”

  Edward sighed. “I hope she doesn’t have our names written down somewhere, because the first place the cops are going to look is at us.”

  “And my ass will be out of the company and on its way to Texas before I’m ready. I don’t plan to let that happen. We have to make that one last deal and then we’re free. It’s enough to get my freedom from Wendy. She’s tired of me anyway. About as tired as I am of her and her daddy.”

  “You were tired of her long ago.”

  “But not of her daddy’s business. What happened to Sidney? Wasn’t he supposed to meet with us?”

  “Had to see his uncle about something. The old man keeps him under his thumb. Besides, he’s pissed at you.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “Says you’ve messed up again, just like always.”

  “Forget him.” Tom cursed angrily. “I’ve got to go.” He started his motor and shot out of the parking space.

  Denton watched as Quilla curled up comfortably and seductively without even trying while she snuggled with the dog on the couch.

  “I think she needs to go on her walk,” she said.

  “That’s getting to be a tiresome habit fast. Every time I turn around, I’m walking her. Here, Jake.” He snatched the dog off Quilla’s lap and nearly tossed her at Jake. “Give you something to do.”

  Jake dragged his head out of the fridge and glanced around. “Sorry, man. I’ve got an important appointment.” A couple of strides, he was across the room. “Check you later.” The door banged shut after him.

  “You guys. Lucky’s special,” Quilla said, standing. She reached for the leash and attached it to Lucky’s collar.

  When Denton noticed a rhinestone collar, fake diamonds glittering, on the dog, he said, “No way. Where’s her old collar?”

  “What’s wrong with this one?” Quilla inspected the thing with a frown, as if nothing was wrong with a man trotting down the street with a dog looking like that. Bad enough it was a froufrou thing, but a rhinestone collar?

  “No self-respecting man is going to walk a dog wearing that thing.”

  Quilla snorted. “Give me a break.”

  “Where’s the old collar?”

  “In the store. It’s Christmas season. She needs something special for the holidays.”

  “We’re stopping by your shop to retrieve it on our way back. That’s the peskiest mutt I’ve ever seen.”

  “Don’t let her hear that. Animals give so much love and they just want to be loved in return, don’t you sweetie.”

  Denton narrowed his gaze. “I’m surprised you don’t have one.”

  “I did. Her name was Reo.”

  “The name of your shop.”

  She nodded.

  “What happened?”

  “A car hit her one day when she was exercising in the park. It was driving way above the speed limit. Teenagers joyriding.”

  “She must have meant a lot to you.”

  “Girl’s best friend.”

  “In lieu of a man?” The moment he said it he wished he could recant the words.

  “I’m going to walk Lucky.”

  “Sorry, out of line. I’ll get my coat.”

  Once they were outside, they picked up on Sadie again. “I called all those people who left messages on Sadie’s answering machine. . . .”

  “Are you crazy?” Denton snapped before she could finish. “If any of them killed her, they now have your name.”

  “I had to start with something.”

  Denton controlled his temper enough to ask, “What did you find out?”

  “The only person who admitted to actually knowing her as anything more than a customer was Tom Goodwill. But I already told you Mrs. Dean’s theory. She thinks his wife killed her for having an affair with him.”

  “An affair?”

  “Well, because she was his mistress. I feel horrible for her. She was such a sweet person. If I’d known . . .”

  “What would you have done?”

  “I would have tried to help her. Taken her to church. Gotten some counseling.” She shivered. “It makes me sad and angry that she settled in that kind of life.”

  “You can’t save the world.”

  “I’m not trying to save the world. Just one person. I just wish I could have done something while she was alive.”

  She looked so desolate, Denton looped an arm around her shoulders. And then he knew he’d lost his ability to reason sensibly, because right on the waterfront, among white twinkling lights and decorations, he bent his head and kissed her lips.

  His blood heated immediately and he held her close enough to feel her heartbeat against his chest.

  Until Lucky barked and momentarily brought back a degree of sanity. With a hand pressed against Quilla’s back, Denton urged them toward the park.

  He didn’t need this.

  Chapter 5

  The phone woke Denton the next morning long before he was ready to get up. He dragged a hand from under the covers and snatched up the phone. When he barked into it, his mother said, “Don’t use that tone on me, son.”

  Denton moaned and sat up in bed picturing the no-nonsense woman who, with the assistance of her husband, raised two boys like tough, loving taskmasters. “What do you expect at this hour?” She would have boxed his ears if he mouthed off at her as a teenager.

  “Courtesy. Your wife’s getting married again. The announcement is in the paper.”

  “Ex-wife, Mom.” His mother always referred to Marcy as “your wife” although they were divorced.

  “He’s a professor at a local college, and he has some grant with a major corporation that ensures his position there.”

  “Seems like she really hit the jackpot this time. I hope she’s happy.”

  “You really messed up,” she said. “I kept telling you not to wait forever to get back with her.”

  Denton sighed. “I know.” Marcy and his mother had hit it off from the beginning. In the end their relationship remained strong while Denton lost favor. He bet the women still went shopping together. Shopping was one of the things they had in common. Keep him as far from the malls as possible, thank you very much.

  With no room to argue, she finally said, “How are you? Are you going to be home in time for the wedding? We received an invitation.”

  “I don’t think so. Give my regrets, will you?”

  “Hum. Your father mentioned that you haven’t visited in a while. Will we see you Christmas?”

  “Aren’t you going to South Carolina?” His grandparents on both sides of the family lived within twenty miles of each other. It reminded him he needed to do some last-minute shopping and mail the gifts off in time for the holiday arrival.

  “We are. Everyone asked about you last year. Can’t you try to make it this time? At least for a day? Your grandparents aren’t getting any younger, you know. Your aunts and uncles, either, for that matter.”

  “Wish I could, but I can’t get away. Give my regards to everyone.”

  “When will we see you?”

  “Hopefully, some time in January, but don’t hold me to it.” Denton left the bed and headed to the kitchen.

  “I wish you could move back here and not travel so much.”

  Nobody used a guilt trip like his mother, Denton thought as he measured coffee and started the coffee machine. Of course she longed for the grandchildren he’d yet to produce.
But the guilt was working. He was their only remaining child, and because of his job he didn’t visit them often.

  “I’m not the settling-down kind, Mama.”

  “You’re running. It’s time you made your peace—with Marcy as well as your brother.”

  A stab of pain cut into him. “I’ve made my peace, don’t worry. I’m enjoying my work. Always have.”

  Silence emerged. She didn’t believe him any more than he believed himself. “I love you. You’re all I have since . . . Take care of yourself, you hear?”

  “I will, Mama. Love you, too.”

  They talked a few more minutes before he hung up, but when he got off the phone he realized he hadn’t thought of Marcy much lately. And sometimes he went hours without thinking of his brother. He wondered if his attraction for Quilla was bringing back thoughts of what he and Marcy once shared.

  Marcy was a good woman. They were married for five years before she gave up on him. If she was going to live like a single woman she might as well be one, she’d snapped before she’d tossed an armful of his clothes on the front stoop and shut the door in his startled face. She’d reached her damnit point.

  He was moving up in the agency, and it required lots of hours. But Marcy wanted a husband who could spend more time with her, more time than he allotted. She wanted a husband who had more energy after working eighteen hours than someone who nearly fell asleep on his feet. And who could blame her? By the time they parted, they had nothing in common. While he was out saving the world, she had filed for divorce.

  But he couldn’t blame her. She had been a good wife. His mother had prayed and pestered him to get back with Marcy. She had liked his wife and missed her probably more than he did. Marcy was the daughter she never had. But Marcy and he were not to be.

  Denton was happy Marcy had found the happiness she sought with the staid professor who would come home every night after classes and appointments to pay homage to her. He really was, but there was a connection between Marcy and him and he couldn’t help feeling . . . he didn’t quite know what he felt. Just that something important had ended forever.

  More and more lately, it seemed his heart had started to melt. The saucy Quilla stayed on his mind more than he wanted her to. The jeans she wore couldn’t hide her shapely figure. And she was always wearing pants. He’d like to see her in a dress, he realized. Something that molded to her shape and gave him a glimpse of bare legs.