by Ann Whitaker
After a few minutes, my arms and back were aching. “Break time.” I held Philip close to me for a few seconds so we could catch our breath. I wasn’t sure about Philip’s leg, but my biceps were definitely getting a workout. I was about to start the next set of bounces when the phone rang.
Dammit. “Okay, long break, Philip. Gotta get the phone. Might be important.” I’d always talked to Philip as if he were an equal, except for the times I used baby talk.
I stepped out of the tub, holding him in front of me. Setting him on the bath mat, I reached for a towel and wrapped it around him, but not before he shook water in my face and hair. I quickly grabbed another towel for myself and raced to the phone.
Let it be Nick. Let it be Nick. He would tell me how bored he was squiring Babe all over town and how he wanted me instead.
The voice on the other end was male all right, but it wasn’t Nick.
“Julie? Butch Justice here. I need you to meet me. Now. It’s an emergency!”
Chapter Thirteen
Butch’s voice sounded raspy. “I said I need you now!”
Shocked he had the nerve to call me, much less make demands, I stood there dripping water with my mouth open and no sound coming out. The date from hell with him was still burned into my memory like a bad DVD. I set Philip down, held the phone away from my ear, and stared at it as if it had taken on a life of its own.
Water continued to drip onto the bedroom carpet from my sopping underwear, and I was about to lose the towel I’d hurriedly wrapped around my almost naked body. At that inopportune moment, Philip succumbed to a case of the doggy crazies. He began tearing through the apartment in a tuck-butt-run, like he always did after a bath. I tried to grab him as he headed toward the bed but missed. Using his good back leg, he sprang onto the pillows and shook furiously, leaving a dark circle of water on the bedspread before leaping down and taking off for the living room.
“Julie? You there?” Butch’s voice twanged like an out-of-tune guitar. I was tempted to hang up the phone or pretend I was the maid, but the urgency in his voice aroused my curiosity.
“Yeah, I’m here. What do you want?” I growled into the mouthpiece. Reaching out, I managed to block Philip as he made another three-legged lap through the room.
“Hey, you don’t have to sound so happy to hear from me. I’m calling about an important matter. I need you to meet me at Lovers Leap.”
Had I heard him right? “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Since I’d been in Waco, I’d heard plenty about Lovers Leap in Cameron Park. Every week the Trib ran a new story about someone who’d ignored the warning signs and ventured over the retaining wall onto the chalky incline where only a few scraggly cedars survived. Several people had fallen to their death in that area when the limestone gave way and sent them plunging down the rock face.
Undeterred, Butch turned on his cop voice. “I’m serious, Julie. I’ve got a critical emergency situation here, and I need you.”
I let out a loud sigh so he’d be sure to hear it.
“It’s this here injured dog, and it needs your help.”
So did his grammar, but he’d said the magic word, dog. “What do you mean? What’s happened?”
“Don’t ask me. I was just driving through the park and heard him. I can’t see him, but he sounds like he’s hurting pretty bad.”
“Doesn’t Waco have an emergency vet service?”
“No. I’ve tried to get hold of several vets, but they’re all at a convention in Dallas.” The line crackled. “You’re breaking up. There he goes again. You hear that wail?”
Butch didn’t speak for a few seconds, and I heard what sounded like a dog crying in the background. That really got my attention. “Butch, I wish I could help, but I don’t even have a car.”
“Borrow one. Your friends have plenty. But don’t say what it’s for. The Espositos don’t like me much.”
I wanted to ask why, but this was not the time. “Do you know what kind of dog it is? Can you see it?”
“No, but I can hear it, and it sounds big. You need to get here fast.”
He began issuing directions, but I cut him off. “I know where Lovers Leap is. What about the fire department? Have you called them?”
“Can’t hear you, Julie. The connection’s breaking up again.” More crackling. “Uh-oh, I think my battery—”
“Butch? Butch!”
The line had gone dead.
My mind flashed back to the night I’d gone out with him, his insinuations about the Espositos, and how Carmen and Berto reacted when they heard his name. And later, Nick ordering me to not to see Butch again.
As usual, when I faced a tense situation, my sister’s voice echoed in my head. Don’t be so impulsive, Julie. Think before you act. You’re like the girl in one of those bad horror films, the one who always checks the basement though she knows the killer is probably waiting down there with an ax.
Someone had even come up with a name for these characters: “Too Dumb to Live.”
But this wasn’t a movie. Butch was a policeman. And though he might act like a hick, I hadn’t given him much of a chance on our date, not to mention my tendency to let my imagination run away with me. Anyway, the thought of an animal in pain was more than I could bear—I had no choice but to try to help.
I replaced the phone, then tore through the apartment as Philip had done a few minutes earlier. I towel dried my hair, not bothering to comb it, and threw on some jeans and a T-shirt. Then I grabbed a roll of gauze for a makeshift muzzle and some Betadine solution from Philip’s travel kit and stuffed them in my purse. After a quick hug and kiss for Philip, I was out the door and running up the pathway to the big house.
Carmen and Berto, along with Babe and Nick, were sitting outside on the patio under the ceiling fans, sipping beers and watching the sunset. Cozy. Two beautiful couples. Nick looked up and frowned when he saw me. Babe smiled sweetly. Berto scowled, and Carmen seemed puzzled.
Out of breath from running uphill and the adrenaline rush brought on by Butch’s call for help, I blurted out my request. “I need a car. Carmen, can I borrow yours? Just for a quick trip into town? I hate to ask, but it’s really important.” Butch needn’t have worried about my mentioning him. The last thing I wanted was for the Espositos and Nick to know I was seeing Butch Justice again, even if it was for a good cause.
Berto eyed me suspiciously, so I kept my eyes fixed on Carmen. “Please? I won’t be gone more than a couple of hours.”
She didn’t hesitate. “Of course. Anything we can help you with? Philip’s okay, I hope.” Carmen’s soft eyes reflected her concern.
“He’s fine. There’s just this…errand I need to run.”
Berto’s dark brows knit together. “It’s almost dark.”
Please don’t make me beg. I contorted my face in my best desperate look, pretending I was Ingrid Bergman. “I promise I’ll be careful.”
Carmen went inside without another word, and when she emerged a few seconds later she held out her hand. “Here, take my keys.”
I raced off toward the garage without looking back.
The tires on Carmen’s Lexus squealed as I pulled out onto Lakeshore Drive. For once I was happy the street served as the local autobahn. I headed northeast and drove well above the speed limit for about three miles, then hooked a right onto Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard. Another mile or so, and I’d be in Cameron Park.
Berto had been right about darkness descending. Though Carmen and I had taken the dogs to the park a couple of times during the day, by the time I got there, it was almost dark. The winding, tree-covered roads confused me, and I took several wrong turns before I spied the sign pointing to Lovers Leap. The road led to a paved area, a dead end.
When I spotted Butch’s pickup, I skidded to a stop, grabbed my purse, and leaped out, using the electronic remote to lock Carmen’s car. Cameron Park after dark was not the place to leave a purse or a Lexus unattended.
But where was
Butch? I walked to the other side of his pickup and found him leaning against the door. He stretched and looked at his watch. “Took you long enough.”
I wasted no time on pleasantries. “Where is he? The dog. Where’s the dog?”
Butch jerked his head to the side. “This way.”
Beyond the pavement was a low stone curb. Past that, a few feet of level ground ended at a retaining wall about four feet high. Triangular-shaped signs warning DANGER DO NOT GO BEYOND THIS WALL left no room for doubt that danger did, indeed, lie in the darkness on the other side.
At the foot of the cliff lay the Brazos River. Butch swung his leg over the wall and held out his hands to me. “You got to climb over.”
“Are you sure it’s safe? The sign says—”
“You want to help the dog or not?”
I swallowed hard and gingerly lifted myself onto the ledge.
“Come on,” Butch said. “We don’t got all night.”
I slid over the wall and lowered myself to the other side, unable to see in the darkness. While seeking solid ground, my foot dislodged a small stone, causing it to ping off the rock hillside, then vanish quietly into the empty space beyond. My heart gave a heavy thump.
When Butch let go of my hands, I caught hold of a lone cedar and gripped its branches while tentatively feeling around with one leg, trying to find a foothold.
“I don’t like this,” I told him. “It’s dangerous.”
“Hell, yeah, it’s dangerous.”
“So let’s find the dog and get out of here. Where is he?”
I didn’t like the sound of his laugh. “Ain’t no dog.”
“What do you mean? You called me out here to help you with an injured dog.” Standing beside me now, Butch yanked me around to face him and squeezed my arms. “Ouch! That hurts.” I tried to pull away, but he held on. Stay calm, I told myself.
He maneuvered himself so he stood between me and the retaining wall. “Like I said, ain’t no dog.”
Though the temperature was still in the high 80s, goose bumps popped up on my arms. He pulled me closer. The smell of beer on his breath made me want to gag.
I gritted my teeth and spoke in the low tone I used with the dogs when I meant business. “Then why did you call me out here, have me borrow a car, and tell me there was a dog?”
Butch gave me a slight push backwards, then caught me before I fell. When I gasped, he laughed. “I knew it was the one thing that would get you out here. See, it’s like this. I know Babe is in town. And I know she’s seeing that pilot guy, that friend of her parents, but she’s only seeing him because they want her to. I been following them, and I know she don’t care nothing about him. It’s me she really loves. She belongs to me. Her and me, we go way back.”
My foot began to slip, and for the moment I was thankful Butch was holding onto me. A trickle of sweat ran down my side. This guy was definitely unhinged. “What do you mean she belongs to you?”
“Just what I said. If it hadn’t been for them parents of hers, we’d be married by now.”
“But what does that have to do with me?”
“Why everything, Miss Julie. You’re going to help me get my Babe back.” He gave me another jerk, then caught me, but this time he didn’t laugh.
Inside my head my sister said, I told you so. She was right. I should have listened to her. I was in deep doo-doo.
Think, Julie. Think fast. If Butch hadn’t been holding my arms, I could reach inside my purse and push the panic button on Carmen’s keychain. But even then, who would hear? Somehow I had to get back over the retaining wall and put a lot of distance between myself and this particular arm of the law. If I could get him on the other side of the wall, then I could make a run for Carmen’s car. For now, I’d have to pretend to go along with whatever he said. It wouldn’t be wise to let him see my fear again.
I tilted my head and tried to look sympathetic, though it was so dark by now I doubted he could see my face that clearly. “I understand. That’s terrible for them to treat you that way. Sounds like my parents. Always butting into my business, telling me what to do. What do you say we go back to the cars, and we can talk about this sitting down. I could sure use one of your beers about now.”
He released one of my arms and scratched his head before answering. “Uh, I don’t think so. Not till I talk to Babe.”
“And how are we going to arrange that?”
“Well, the way I’ve got it figured, the Espositos trust you. So if you call and tell her to meet you someplace, she’ll do it.”
“Why can’t you call her yourself?”
He pushed his face close to mine and looked at me as if I were the one without a brain, making me wish for ruby slippers I could click together and return to Abilene. “Julie, Julie. Now think a minute. They see my number on their caller ID, and they ain’t gonna pick up. Even if they did, they’d recognize my voice and that would be the end of that.”
For an idiot, he had done some thinking. Surely I could outwit a halfwit.
“First we need to get back to the cars where it’s safe. I don’t want to end up a pile of broken bones at the bottom of this cliff or in the river.” Of course, there was a bigger problem with his plan, but I wasn’t about to mention it until I was on safer ground.
“Sorry. You got to call her now.”
“Wait a minute. I thought you said they’d recognize your number. Can’t you block the information so it won’t show up on their caller ID?”
“Tried that. Any time they see blocked call, they know it’s me. So you got to call her from your cell phone.”
Oh Houston, we do have a problem. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. “That’s not possible.”
“Huh? You’re probably going to tell me your battery is down.”
Butch was never going to believe me. “The fact is”—help me someone—”I don’t own a cell phone.” His hold on my arms grew tighter causing me to wince. “Ouch, you’re hurting me.” I tried to squirm away, but he held on.
“Quit stalling. Get out your damned phone and call her. I want my Babe. I know you got a cell phone. Hell, even the poor SOBs I arrest have cell phones.”
I closed my eyes, trying to convince myself I was merely a character in a one-star thriller. The story played out in my head, ending with Butch shoving me down the side of the cliff simply because I didn’t have a cell phone.
Without warning, he yanked the purse from my shoulder and dumped the contents on the ground. I flinched as Carmen’s keys went rolling down the incline. Butch, unconcerned, bent down on one knee and scrambled around in the dark for a phone that wasn’t there, still holding onto me with one beefy hand.
“You don’t have no damned phone!”
“I’ve been telling you—”
“What’s wrong with you anyway? You’re not normal, that’s what.” He picked up the bottle of Betadine solution and sniffed the lid, probably wondering if it was something to drink. I was tempted to tell him it was a margarita and be my guest.
Clearly, I was going to have to take some action in order to save myself. “Listen to me a minute.” I hoped he wasn’t too drunk to consider his options. “We’ll go to a pay phone, and I’ll call Babe from there.” I would be in Butch’s pickup, still at his mercy, but I’d rather chance that than fall to my death below.
Butch, ignoring my logic, couldn’t seem to get over the fact I didn’t have a phone. “Are you sure it’s not in the car?”
“If it was, we couldn’t get to it now. The keys just went rolling down the cliff when you dumped my purse out!”
“Don’t even have a damned cell phone,” he kept muttering. Suddenly, he stood, let go of me, and placed his hands to the sides of his head. I grabbed for the cedar but my hands felt nothing but empty air, so I hooked a finger around a belt loop of his jeans for balance. Butch began rocking forward and back, like one of those toy birds that peck at a glass of water.
Maybe if I tried comforting him. “It’s okay, Butch. I’ve
got an idea.” This time I grabbed his arm and tried to push him toward the wall. Good thing I’d worn my running shoes instead of flip-flops. But as I pushed him, one of his cowboy boots slipped, and he began to slide away from me, reaching out and clutching the back pocket of my jeans, bringing me to my knees. As I slid further down, one of my legs dangled in space, while the other scrambled to secure a hold on something solid.
Then Butch lost his grip on my jeans. I took a gulp of air, caught hold of a rock, and managed to pull myself up to a small clump of cedar. I grasped it and held on.
Suddenly, Butch let out a scream that raised my hackles. Once I’d caught my breath, I called to him. “Are you okay?”
“No!” he wailed. “I think my damn leg is broke. Climb down here and help me back up. There’s probably snakes down here too.”
It was so dark by now I couldn’t see him, but from the sound of his voice, I judged him to be several feet below me. I hoped he’d found a ledge and wasn’t hanging onto a flimsy branch. Though I felt sorry for him, I’d learned my lesson. No way was I going to try to climb down that incline. Even if I did, I’d never be able to get him back up without help. He had to weigh almost twice as much as me.
“Butch, can you hear me?”
“Help me!” Now he was sobbing. “My chest hurts. I think I’m having a heart attack.”
“Can you reach your cell phone? Call 9-1-1. I’ll stay here till they come. Try not to move.”
“Hell, no,” he moaned. “It’s in my damn pickup.”
That was the best news I’d had all day. “As soon as I climb back to the top, I’ll get it and call for help. Just hang on.”
“Julie!”
“What?”
“The pickup is locked. You’ll have to come down here to get the keys.”
Not on your life.
I didn’t bother answering. First I had to get up to the retaining wall and climb over without falling. I clutched a rock in one hand and the cedar in the other, still seeking a foothold for my dangling leg. My eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, and though there wasn’t much of a moon, I could tell up from down. One slip and down I’d go. The cedar branches cut into my fingers but I held on. Finally, my foot found an indentation in the side of the cliff, and I pulled myself up until I could see the side of the barrier. Another few feet and I managed to brace my feet against another small bush and grab onto the top of the wall. With the little remaining strength in my arms, I pulled my upper body onto the ledge. I lay there a few minutes, breathing heavily, until I finally summoned the strength to swing my legs up. One leg. Rest. Then the other. Finally, I lay stretched out face down on the top of the retaining wall. Safe.