“What’s on the menu?”
“Green Chili Casserole.”
“I am so there. I love your mother’s cooking. I don’t remember Mother even boiling water in our kitchen. I guess it’s why I wanted to learn to cook. I love eating things I have prepared with my own two hands.”
“Then why didn’t you cook dinner tonight?” Keaton asked.
“My father gave me one piece of sound advice when I was growing up: ‘Never turn down a free meal’,” she said.
After Sydney left, Keaton and I cleaned up, putting the leftovers in the fridge. I retrieved ‘Gunfight at the O.K. Corral’ from the bedroom DVD player, and we watched it in the living room. Keaton took Duke for his evening walk before he left. “Have you thought about putting in a security system, Charlie?” he asked me when he brought Duke back. “With Cash and Deja running around, it wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
“Just how much money do you think I make as a freelance writer, Keaton? It doesn’t pay as much as you think it does. The royalties from my first book paid for this house, but I’m saving some money for when the royalties slow down.”
“I know, I know. It was just a suggestion. Promise you will be careful, that’s all I ask.”
I will admit it; I was touched by his concern for me. I felt this warm, fuzzy feeling growing inside. No, no, no, I chided myself, no warm fuzzies! Bad, bad, bad!
“I’ll be ok,” I said. “I’ve got Duke to protect me.”
Keaton rubbed the top of Duke’s head. “You take good care of her, boy,” he said. “Lock the door behind me. I’m not stepping off the porch until I hear that bolt thrown.”
More warm fuzzy feelings. Oh, he was GOOD. “No problem. Good night.”
He leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Good night. Call me if you need me.”
I closed the door and locked it. I watched through one of the windows as he got in his Mustang and drove off. I looked down at Duke. “I thought you were supposed to protect me from guys like that,” I chided him. Duke just looked at me, his tongue hanging out, his blue eyes saying, “Aw, come on, he’s not that bad.” At least that is what I think they were saying. Oh boy. I really need some sleep.
Chapter 8
Despite the dark purple bruise on my knee Wednesday morning, I decided to get out of the house for a while. Duke had plenty of food, but I felt like Old Mother Hubbard’s dog looking for something in the cupboards. I let him out back to take care of his business, and brought him back inside. I had a feeling Blinky was nearby, and I didn’t want Duke to hurt her in case she got too close.
Mr. Crubbs was checking the oil in his Cadillac when I came out the front door. I don’t know why he bothered to keep it running; he had his license revoked last year after he had a few near misses, including a fainting spell in the grocery store parking lot.
His yard looked pretty good, considering all the work that had been done yesterday. I was impressed by how fast they had finished, and I was still certainly that Keaton had something to do with it. But I knew if I asked Mr. Crubbs, he wouldn’t tell me a thing, so I let it go.
My Beetle started with no problem, and I headed first for the newspaper office. The editor of the Daily Sun, Ralph Moxley, gave me feature stories to do once a week and I had yet to pick up this week’s assignment. This was not a good thing, as Ralph usually wanted the story by Friday afternoon.
“About time you came in,” he growled when I walked into his office.
“I’m sorry, Ralph. I had a couple of things come up at home.”
“I heard about one of those ‘things’. Heard you broke Cash Christian’s nose in three places and knocked a couple of teeth out, too.”
“I hadn’t heard about the teeth. Where did you get that?”
“Doc Mendelson told me last night at Rachel’s. Cash came to see him in the afternoon, missing his two front teeth.”
I would have to ask Bernie about that. “Sorry, Ralph, I can only claim the nose.”
“I’ll have Sarah write ‘the assailant says she broke her victim’s nose, but not his teeth during an exclusive interview with this newspaper’s editor on Wednesday morning’.”
I gasped. “Oh please, Ralph, don’t do that! My mother would be mortified! Anything I say about the incident is strictly off the record.”
Ralph waved his hand at me. “Don’t give me that ‘off the record’ crap. Besides, I know what happened. I got the story from Bernie.” He grew serious. “Are you ok?”
“A few bruises, that’s all.”
“Off the record, I’m proud of you for fighting back. Cash deserves much worse than what you gave me, let me tell you. He’s been a terror in this town for years. It’s about time he got back a little of what he has dished out.”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise. I had never heard Ralph talk about Cash like this before. He never said anything when we were dating, wisely kept his own counsel, and throwing work at me to keep me busy after we broke up. I had to admit, Ralph may be a grump and a sour puss at times, but deep down, he was a big softie.
“Here,” he said, shoving a folder at me. “This week’s feature. Isabella Tracy is hosting a charity event at the country club next week and wants a big write up for Sunday’s edition.”
I rolled my eyes. The one thing I didn’t want to do was interview Isabella, especially considering the problems between her and my mother. “Can’t you put someone else on this? What about Sarah? She’s wanted to do a feature piece for a while now.”
“Yes, but she’s not best friends with Isabella Tracy’s oldest daughter, now is she?” Ralph countered. “You are. What’s the problem?”
“She had a minor disagreement with Mother, and they aren’t on speaking terms. I’m not sure Isabella will even speak to me.”
“So don’t talk to her about the argument, talk to her about the charity event! Make sure Sydney is there with you. She can act as a buffer between you and her mother. Just get me that story by Friday afternoon.”
I turned to leave. “Charlie.” I looked back. “Be careful. Cash has a mean streak a mile long, and Deja is just as nasty as he is. Watch your back.”
“You know something I don’t, Ralph?”
“Just be careful, that’s all I’m saying. Now get out of here. I’ve got work to do.”
I stopped by Sarah’s desk. “You didn’t write an article about an attack on Cash Christian, did you?”
“Oh, you mean about you breaking his nose in three places, knocking out two of his teeth, and breaking his jaw?” Sarah said.
“Breaking his jaw?” This story gets bigger and bigger. “Who told you that?”
“Deja Taylor. She said his mouth hurts so bad, he can’t kiss her.”
I bit back a retort. “I didn’t break his jaw, nor did I knock out two of his teeth. I merely broke his nose.”
“I heard he wanted you arrested.”
“And I want a million dollars. Neither one of those things is happening.”
“Don’t worry, there is nothing in the paper about his broken nose or his assault on you, I promise. Ralph threatened to fire all of us if we even thought about writing something about it.”
I felt some tension ease that I had not realized I had been feeling. “Thanks, Sarah.”
“Are you ok?”
Assuring her I was fine, I said goodbye, walked out the front door and headed for the parking lot located on the left side of the building. I looked in my purse, located the keys and pulled them out. When I raised my head, I saw someone sitting in the passenger’s seat of my car.
Right before it blew up.
Chapter 9
The force of the explosion sent me flying backwards until I slammed into the wall of the newspaper office and slid to the ground. Pieces of my light blue Beetle flew everywhere. A couple of cars caught fire; others had their windows blown out.
I sat there, trying to catch my breath, but it really hurt. There was a roaring sound in my ears and I couldn’t hear anything. I didn’t think I could move, an
d quite frankly, I didn’t even want to try.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, and slowly turned my head to find Sarah kneeling beside me. I pointed to where my car had been and tried to talk. She was saying something to me, but I had no idea what it was. I made a scribbling motion with my hand and she pulled out a small notepad and pen from her pocket. I wrote “person in car” and handed it to her. Sarah looked up at me in horror, and then over at the pieces of my Beetle that were now raining down on the parking lot.
Other employees from the newspaper ran around the corner with fire extinguishers and used them on the cars that were on fire.
A paramedic knelt next to me on the right and started asking me questions I couldn’t hear. I motioned to Sarah, and she handed me the pad and pen, which I gave to him. He asked me what happened, how close I was to the explosion, and where I hurt. I thought I recognized his partner as a girl I had gone to school with, but by that point, my head was really hurting and I just wanted to close my eyes. Of course, they wouldn’t let me.
The first paramedic put a cervical collar on me and they slowly maneuvered me onto a backboard. Thankfully, they didn’t move me too much, which cut down on the nausea and dizziness I was feeling. I was pretty sure that meant a concussion, but I didn’t think they would appreciate me telling them that.
It was weird to see people talking around me and not hear what they were saying. I guess this was how Grandpa Bannerman must have felt those last few years when he lost his hearing.
The paramedics lifted the backboard and put it on top of their stretcher, securing it in place with the straps. Keaton appeared out of nowhere, stroking my hair and talking to me. I couldn’t understand a word he said, but I could see the concern and fear in his eyes. It both scared and made me happy at the same time. Oh good Lord, that explosion must have knocked my good sense into the next decade! Someone save me!
Sarah pulled Keaton aside. “She can’t hear you.”
“Why not?”
“One of the paramedics said it is probably because of the explosion. Tinnitus, I believe they said. The doctors at the hospital will be able to tell you more.”
“What happened, Sarah?”
“She came in to pick up her feature assignment, stopped by my desk for a few minutes, and left. She wasn’t gone thirty seconds before we all heard this loud explosion that rattled everything in the place. When I came around the corner, she was sitting on the ground, her back against the wall, looking dazed.”
“What blew up?” he asked, looking around the parking lot.
“I think it was her car. It’s the only one missing. She wrote this note,” she added, handing him the notepad. “I don’t know what she meant by it. Do you?”
He shook his head. “Maybe she saw someone by the car and thought they were in it.” He looked over as they loaded Charlie into the ambulance. “Do you mind if I keep this? Just the note, not your pad.”
“No, go ahead,” she said, ripping the page off and giving it to him.
“Thanks, Sarah. I’ll let you know how she’s doing.”
Paramedics are just plain evil, I decided on the way to the hospital. Just how many IV’s did they think I needed? When did I turn into a pincushion? I glared at the female paramedic, who was enthusiastically pumping up the blood pressure cuff again. Man, I really wanted to tell her what she could do with that thing! Good thing my mother raised me better than that.
I felt the ambulance come to a stop, and the rush of air when the back doors opened. As they slid me out, I saw Keaton run up. He was talking on his phone, which meant he had probably called my parents and Sydney by now. Oh boy, this was turning into a regular party.
I won’t bore you with the details of the next few hours. I will just say there were more pincushion moments, lots of tears, silent cursing, x-rays and tests. Two broken ribs, a bruised lung, little cuts on my face and hands from flying glass, a concussion and noise-induced hearing loss, which was just a temporary thing, Dr. Lance assured me. I didn’t feel very reassured.
After being declared somewhat fit to go home, meaning he wanted me to stay and I wanted to go, the argument began of where I would go. My mother insisted I go home with her, where she and my father would take care of me. Sydney insisted I go to her house, where she would hire a sexy home care nurse to tend to my every need. I really liked this idea.
I finally screamed to get their attention. They told me later I had screamed so loud, security came rushing down the hall, thinking someone was being attacked. Grabbing a note pad I had gotten from one of the nurses, I scribbled a note and handed it to Keaton. “She says she loves you all very much.” I wrote another note. “I am not going home with you, Mother, but I appreciate the offer.” I wrote another one. “Syd, your offer is VERY tempting, but I would drive you nuts inside a day.” I scribbled another one. “I am going to my own home.” I saw their mouths move in protest and held my hands up to stop them. “I need time to recover, not smothering or hovering,” my next note read.
I took a deep breath, wrote the next note and handed it to Keaton. He looked at it, raised his eyebrows and looked down at me. I nodded. “Keaton is the one I want to help me. If someone is trying to hurt me, he will protect me better than any of you can.” I wrote one last note. “I love you all. Now get out.”
My parents kissed me goodbye. Mother promised to send over some green chili casserole. I know my father said a prayer and I squeezed his hand in thanks. Sydney hugged me and promised to text me often, although I wasn’t sure how she was going to do that because I had discovered my phone was completely trashed. As they left, I breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back.
I know what you’re thinking right now. I have spent a lot of time complaining about staying away from Keaton, not wanting to get involved, and stuff like that. But stop and think about it a minute: my parents couldn’t fight off an intruder; Sydney couldn’t fight her way out of a plastic bag, unless Manolo Blahnik shoes were involved.
Do I want to spend a lot of time alone with Keaton? No. Can I protect myself or Duke right now? No. Would it be better to have someone other than Keaton stay at my house? You betcha. Was there anyone else I could ask? My brother Braden, who is a cop, but he works graveyard. His twin brother, Braylen, is married with two kids, and frankly, he’s a wuss.
No, the answer is Keaton.
Yikes.
Chapter 10
As Keaton slowly drove me home that evening, there were two questions on my mind. Who hated me so much they wanted to blow me up? And who was in my car when it blew up?
They weren’t questions I wanted to vocalize because I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answers. Only two people came to mind – Cash and Deja – and I wondered if they could account for their whereabouts at the time of the explosion. A better question was when had someone found the time to even put explosives in my car? Had I driven to the newspaper office with them already on the car? Had they been attached while I was inside talking to Ralph and Sarah?
I hate silence. I like having noise around me when I work or when I’m home alone. This not being able to hear anything was really getting on my nerves. I was pretty sure I could talk, although I hadn’t really tried. I wanted to be able to hear myself speak the words and I wanted to be able to hear the answers. I couldn’t even text anyone because my phone was rubble.
Keaton touched my arm and I realized we were in my driveway. I dug my keys out of my pocket and handed them over. My purse had absorbed some of the explosion and it was in shreds. I wondered where the feature file was that Ralph had given me. How was I going to write it when I couldn’t even hear the answers? Man, this sucks.
Keaton unlocked the front door, and then came to help me out of the car. Dr. Lance had given me a muscle relaxer just before I left, and I was very grateful. There wasn’t a part of me that didn’t hurt right now. It took five minutes just to get from the car to the front door. The tortoise could beat me in a race right now. Sad.
I was surprised to see Sydney wa
iting for me when I finally got inside. She gave me a gentle hug, helped me to the bedroom and handed me a note. “I thought you might want some help getting cleaned up, and I’m pretty sure that is something you don’t want Keaton’s help with.” Tears sprang up, and I gave her a hug in response.
I looked at the bedside clock; it read 8:10. Wow. It had been almost twelve hours since the car exploded and the world went quiet. I wondered if Bernie had discovered who was in my car when it blew. I wasn’t sure at that moment I really cared. All I wanted to do was curl up in my bed with Duke and feel safe again. As if he could read my mind, Duke came over and nuzzled my hand. I sat down on the bed and gave him a hug as fresh tears fell. Sydney came out of the bathroom and sat next to me as I cried.
Knowing I couldn’t take a shower or a bath, she had a small tub full of warm water sitting on the bathroom counter. She carefully helped me get undressed, and gave me a sponge bath. I would have loved to soak in a bubble bath, but it would have been too painful, and I’m not sure I would have been able to get out on my own.
Thirty minutes later, I was wearing my favorite pajama bottoms (Eeyore rules!) and an oversized t-shirt. As I got dressed, I could smell green chili casserole. Sydney and I found Keaton taking a pan out of the oven. “Your mom sent this over. She thought you might be hungry.” Hey, I heard that!
“That’s great,” I replied. “It smells wonderful.”
Sydney and Keaton looked at me. “You heard that?”
“Yes, although it sounds a bit muted,” I admitted. “The miracle powers of a bubble bath.” I sat down gingerly in a chair.
Keaton put some of the casserole into a bowl and placed it in front of me while Sydney poured me a Dr Pepper. “Bernie called while you were soaking,” she said, placing the glass in front of me. Duke sat down next to me.
I suddenly wished I couldn’t hear again. “And?”
Keaton glanced at Sydney before answering. “They did find a badly burned body. It had been blown several hundred feet from the car.”
Good Night Sleep Tight Don't Let the Stalkers Bite (Charlie Bannerman Mysteries) Page 4