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Our Red Hot Romance Is Leaving Me Blue

Page 9

by Dixie Cash


  She drew a deep breath in an effort to calm herself. This would be the first time she had ever publicly demonstrated her abilities. To say she was nervous was putting it mildly.

  Because she had seen clients demand proof from her grandmother, Sophia had no doubt the client in Salt Lick would also. And she didn’t know at the moment how she would manage that. Most people thought a psychic could call up visions like using the TV remote control, going from one premonition to another. But it wasn’t like that. She didn’t know how her visions came; they just did. She couldn’t necessarily predict their arrival. Sometimes a scene formed in her mind. Another time, holding an object would prompt a flashback and cause her hand to shake. One occurrence had never been the same as another, and it wasn’t just one thing in particular.

  The only thing she knew for certain was that the Domestic Equalizers and their client expected to meet her grandmother. Sophia showing up instead probably wouldn’t be welcomed. They might even think she was crooked. “Gran Bella,” she whispered softly, “I am going to need your help. Please don’t let me fail. Please help me help these people. Are you with me?”

  A voice came into her ear. “I am right beside you, querida. We will not fail.”

  Sophia smiled and finally relaxed into her seat, but a gravelly male voice interrupted her rest. “Excuse me, miss.”

  Sophia looked up. A tall, swarthy man loomed over her. She had been aware of his eyeing her ever since she boarded the bus. He gave her a tobacco-stained leer. She scooted as far away as she could, until she was pressed against the window. He pointed to the empty seat beside her. “Mind if I sit here, pretty lady?”

  Sophia visualized her Gran Bella demurely sitting there, hands crossed on her lap. “No, I’m sorry. The seat is taken.”

  The man looked at the seat, then at her and backed away. But not before eyeing her up and down one more time. From where she sat, she couldn’t see where he went, but she hoped it was all the way to the back of the bus.

  Time passed. Between reading Cosmo and catnapping, before Sophia could believe it, the driver announced their arrival in Odessa.

  Sophia gathered her purse and magazine and made her way off the bus, looking around at her new surroundings. Except for the outline of El Paso’s Franklin Mountains, which ran north and south, dividing the city almost in two perfect halves, the scenery was the same. Flat land, few trees, lots of open, uncluttered skies. And heat.

  Stepping into the air-conditioned bus terminal, she shivered at the sudden change in temperature, but the chill was a welcome reprieve from the ninety-plus heat outside. She scanned the room, noticing travelers of every age, size, shape and color. Several people, men and women both, appeared to be trying to blend into the walls. She recognized them as being the homeless, seemingly ignoring the NO LOITERING signs that were posted everywhere.

  Sophia’s heart went out to them, especially the elderly, the women and the children. She believed that homeless able-bodied men had choices and many of them had opted to be where they were. But as a teacher of young children, Sophia couldn’t accept that sleeping in a bus station was what the woman who held a small child’s hand had in mind. A twist of bad luck or bad choices had detoured their lives.

  What immunity did she have from that same fate? She wasn’t that far from being homeless herself, as her recent financial challenges had shown her.

  A clattering sound pulled her attention to the doorway through which she had just entered. The driver, sweating profusely, struggled to pull a luggage cart indoors.

  Sophia was unsure how to go about claiming her bag but quickly saw that, apparently, a numbered ticket attached to her travel voucher was the claim check for it. Still, she hung back and let the more-seasoned bus travelers take the lead.

  After waiting patiently for her opportunity she presented the ticket to the driver, who promptly handed her suitcase to her. She pulled up the retractable handle and rolled it toward the front door, already seeing Enterprise Rent-A-Car’s sign across the street.

  As she neared the exit, the man who had asked if he could sit next to her during the bus trip jumped from his chair near the doorway and opened the plate-glass door wide for her. She gave a tight, quick smile and started through the doorway. Once outside she realized he had followed her and was startled when his hand covered hers and he reached for control of her suitcase. “Why don’t you let me help you, sweetheart? A pretty thing like you shouldn’t have to carry your own bags. That’s a man’s job.”

  His touch spurred a disgusting film clip in her mind of his life and the way he had chosen to live it. “No, thank you,” she said, shifting her bag to her other side and giving him a long, hard look. “I’ve got it.”

  The man, undeterred, stepped in front of her, halting her progress. “How about I go with you? You might find something you need help with later on.” He slid his tongue around his mouth in an attempt, Sophia supposed, to look sexy.

  His approach didn’t scare her as much as it steeled something in her she’d never felt before. She was struck with the knowledge that she had the upper hand, and the feeling of power brought a smile to her lips.

  The man apparently mistook the smile for an invitation and moved closer to her, looking her up and down as if he were appraising a banquet table. Smile still in place, she said, “Here’s what I think you should do, Bob. Or are you going by Jack now? I’d think if you wanted to use an alias you’d choose one you hadn’t used before.”

  Multiple expressions zipped across his face—shock, fear, mistrust and anger. All that she had hoped for.

  “How the hell—”

  “Don’t worry about it, Bob. It’s way over your head. And I’m way over the age you prefer. How old was the last girl you molested? Seven or eight? I teach small children. I’ve often wondered about men like you. Do you make victims of babies because you know you’d never have a chance with a grown woman?”

  Shaken, the stranger puffed up with bravado. “Who the hell are you? How do you know—”

  “It doesn’t matter who I am. What should matter to you is that I know your probation officer’s name is Phil Casey in El Paso and he would like to know where you are. I’ve never met him, but I know he would like to hear from me. I’ll have no trouble finding his phone number. You either get back on the bus and head back to where you came from in El Paso or I’ll call him right here and now and you’ll be returned to prison.” She leveled a glare at him, while reaching inside her purse for her cell phone.

  At that moment an Odessa police officer rounded the corner of the building and stopped, observing the scene. He was a mountain of a man with a weathered face. “Ma’am, are you in trouble here?”

  Sophia looked at the policeman and gave him her most sincere smile. “I’m so happy to see you, officer. This man is trying to pick me up. He’s also proud he’s putting one over his parole officer in El Paso.” She glared at her tormentor again. “Aren’t you, Bob?”

  The man licked his lips and laughed nervously. “I was just trying to be nice to her. I didn’t—”

  In a flash, the officer grasped the man’s upper arm. “Come with me, sir. My cruiser’s just around the corner. You can sit in the backseat where it’s nice and cool while I run a check on you. If it comes back clean I’ll stay with you and make sure you get on that bus back to El Paso.” He returned his attention to Sophia. “Miss, are you gonna be all right?”

  “Yes sir, I’m going to be just fine. Thank you so much. And officer, regardless of what alias he gives you, his real name is Robert Alan Chandler.”

  Sophia had no idea how she knew Bob Chandler’s real name or that of his parole officer and his police record. The information had just come to her. That’s the way her visions always were. Only in recent years had she learned to trust them.

  In less than half an hour she drove a Chevy Aero from Enterprise’s parking lot. As she passed the officer’s police cruiser, the child molester was leaning against the car while the officer handcuffed him. This
incident was definitely one where having the ability to see the future, and especially the past, had been beneficial.

  Just as she had requested, the rental car was equipped with a GPS. Debbie Sue had told her the client had made a reservation for her at the Blue Mesa Inn. Leaving the rental car parking lot, she stopped at the YIELD sign and carefully entered the address of her destination into the computer. She followed the commands dutifully and couldn’t help but think how easy life would be if everyone was equipped with his own personal navigation device. Turn left, don’t turn left, stop ahead, keep going.

  In time she found herself at the hotel. She had to laugh at the irony of a satellite in outer space giving her guidance. She had come here to help someone with voices from the spirit world while relying on an object in space to guide her in the right direction.

  The Blue Mesa Inn wasn’t the nicest hotel she had ever seen, but it wasn’t the worst, either. A room had been reserved for her, just as promised. Opening the door and seeing two double beds was a painful reminder that she was truly alone.

  ten

  Debbie Sue pushed her body deep into the tangle of bedsheets. She sighed and moaned, languishing in the pleasure only Buddy and his nimble fingers could provide. He knew the right spots and wasn’t selfish with his time and attention. “I know you’re tired, sweetheart,” she purred, “but would you do that spot again?”

  Smiling, Buddy reached for the squatty jar on the bedside table and scooped out a generous glob of soy body whip. He warmed the silky cream between his large palms, then began massaging her right foot again, squeezing and slowly manipulating her ankle.

  “Man, after standing on my feet all day, you cannot imagine how good that feels,” she told him.

  Buddy chuckled. “I sat on my ass in front of a computer for eight hours today. You willing to return the favor?”

  Debbie Sue raised her head and gave him a seductive smile. “Anytime, sugarfoot. I’d rub soy body whip on your bottom anytime.”

  “The Eyes of Texas” blared in a staccato beat from Debbie Sue’s cell phone, shattering the tranquility and intimacy of the moment. If the call had come on the house phone, she would’ve gladly let it go to the answering machine, but given the fact that she could count on less than two hands the number of people who had her cell number, she caved and dragged her purse from the bedside table. But not without firing off a string of expletives.

  “Humph,” Buddy huffed. “Haven’t heard you use those words before. Where’d you learn ’em?”

  “I made ’em up.” Debbie Sue plowed through the purse for the phone. Looking at caller ID, she didn’t recognize the number. She frowned and grumbled, “Damn telemarketers. How’d they get my cell number?” She flipped open the phone and slapped it against her ear. “Hello,” she snapped.

  Silence. Good. Maybe her abrupt answer had dissuaded the caller. She was in no mood to hear about refinancing her home or signing up for termite inspection or investing in a burial plot.

  “Uh, Debbie Sue?”

  The hesitant voice wasn’t entirely unfamiliar, but Debbie Sue couldn’t quite place it. “Yeah, who’s this?”

  “Uh, uh, this is Sophia Paredes. Did I call at a bad time?”

  Oops. Debbie Sue rolled her eyes. This wasn’t the first time she had jumped to the wrong conclusion. And if the past was a harbinger of the future, it wouldn’t be the last. Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, she said, “Oh, heavensake, no. You just caught me trying to sound tough.”

  “You thought I was a telemarketer?” Sophia asked on a small laugh.

  Debbie Sue felt her stomach knot up. How did Sophia Paredes know that? “Well, uh, yes. I have a tendency to sound mean when people I don’t know call me at suppertime.”

  “I do the same thing,” Sophia said. “I think everyone does. My job as a first-grade schoolteacher can be hard at times, but I wouldn’t be a telemarketer for anything.” Sophia laughed another nervous laugh.

  Debbie Sue laughed too, watching Buddy rise from the bed and pad barefooted into the bathroom. He had changed into old jeans and a T-shirt when he came home from work, clothing that showed off his perfect body. Eye candy, for sure. He would hate it if she called him that aloud. She giggled inwardly.

  She leaned back against the pillow, returning her attention to the call. “I hope the trip wasn’t too much for your grandmother.”

  “Oh, uh, no, not too much at all. She’s resting just fine. Thanks so much for asking.”

  An awkward silence. Debbie Sue still wasn’t sure if she was supposed to play the role of hostess or facilitator. Should she make an attempt toward friendship or just keep things on a business level? She asked a question she would have asked anyone. “Is your room all right? I’m sorry to say I don’t know much about the Blue Mesa Inn.”

  “The room is fine. It’s very clean and they offer a complimentary breakfast in the morning.”

  Debbie Sue slapped the side of her forehead. Food. Of course. The ultimate icebreaker. “I haven’t even asked if you and your grandmother have had supper yet.” She glanced again at the clock on the bedside table. “If your grandmother’s on a special diet, I could recommend—”

  “Thanks, but we’re really just fine. I noticed several fast-food places around the hotel. I’ll run out and get something. I only wanted to check in with you and tell you I, uh, we’ve arrived and see what the plan is. Justin is the client’s name?

  “Yes. Justin Sadler.”

  “I assume Mr. Sadler wants to meet tomorrow and not tonight?”

  Mr. Sadler. Not once since Debbie Sue had met Justin had she thought of him as Mr. Sadler. “I told him we’d come out to his place tomorrow morning around ten o’clock, if that’s all right with you. He’s located between Salt Lick and Odessa. Did you rent a car with GPS?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve never been in the area before. I don’t think even psychic help could keep me from getting lost. There are so few landmarks.”

  “I know. Just lots of blue sky. The GPS will help you get to Salt Lick, but I doubt it’ll find an unmarked country road. Got some paper handy? You need to write these directions down.”

  Debbie Sue spoke slowly, allowing Sophia to write and read back the instructions. “You can’t miss the turnoff. Coming from Odessa, it’ll be on your left. The cattle guard has a rock stanchion on each side. One has an American flag on top of it and the other has a Texas flag. Like I said, you can’t miss it. The house is a ways back from the gate.”

  “Super. Will you and Edwina be meeting me, er, us at the gate?”

  “We hadn’t planned on it. Do you want us to meet you there?”

  “If you don’t mind I’d rather talk to the two of you first…alone.”

  Uh-oh. Why had she added the last word as an afterthought? “Uh, sure, we can do that. Nine thirty?”

  “Nine thirty is perfect. See you then.”

  Sophia disconnected. Debbie Sue glanced up at Buddy as he re-entered the room.

  “You look confused,” he said. “Is something wrong?”

  “That was the granddaughter of the woman who’s gonna meet with Justin Sadler. She wants to talk to Edwina and me first. Alone. I’ve got a funny feeling.”

  “Really?” He slid toward her atop the bed covers, encircled her in his arms and pulled her close to him. “Maybe you’ve developed ESP yourself.”

  Debbie Sue giggled and combed her fingers through his thick black hair. “Maybe I have. For example, right now, I can’t explain it, but I can tell you what you’re up to.” She pressed her body against his.

  “You can?”

  “You’re gonna have your way with me, aren’t you?”

  “That’s amazing. I thought I was gonna keep rubbing your feet, but now that I think about it, you’re right. You’re just amazing, my sweet girl.” He nuzzled her neck and said softly, “Amazing.”

  The gray of dawn lightened Sophia’s hotel room. All night, every one hundred and twenty minutes, she had awakened worrying over what it wo
uld mean for her if this Justin Sadler decided to send her packing. She had no contract with him, real or implied. She hadn’t even spoken directly to him. When he discovered she was not her grandmother, he could easily tell her to take a hike.

  And if he did, hike was frightfully close to what she would have to do—right back to El Paso. She had no guarantee of the support of the Domestic Equalizers either, once they discovered she was an imposter. She could only hope Mr. Sadler, or someone, would reimburse her the expenses she had incurred to date.

  This trip could have a grim outcome, very grim indeed.

  She surrendered the fight for sleep. It wasn’t going to happen. She feared if she let herself finally doze, she would sink into the deep sleep she had wished for all night and miss her appointment with the two detectives. The green digital number in the clock radio showed 6:00 A.M. Close enough to her meeting time to give in and just get up. Frustrated, she threw back the covers.

  With the luxury of extra time and no worry about the cost of utilities, she pressed the down arrow on the air conditioner even further and moved to the shower. A long, warm luxurious shower with complimentary soaps and shampoos was just what she needed.

  Twenty minutes later she emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel. She pawed through her makeup bag and found a bottle of after-shower lotion, then sat on the edge of the bed, slathering the rich cream on her brown arms, legs and feet.

  She was lucky, so her girlfriends at home told her repeatedly. She had an effortless year-round tan, courtesy of her father’s genes. Even on the rare occasions when she sunburned, the discomfort was gone the next day and she had an even deeper golden color to her skin. Though her friends told her they envied her, she viewed the ivory-skinned princesses with the same envy.

  She put on her underwear, then took a wide-tooth comb to her thick mane. It would be hours drying on its own, but she decided to let it do that. She had forgotten to pack her Sedu hair dryer, an expensive accessory someone with her thick, coarse hair couldn’t afford to be without. The alternate choice was the hotel’s wall-mounted dryer, which would leave her with not only a tired arm for her effort, but hair that expanded in volume to the point of being comical.

 

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