02-A Book to Die For (2014)

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02-A Book to Die For (2014) Page 2

by Richard Houston


  I turned to Bonnie who was watching Lonnie leave. “Once a jerk always a jerk,” I said and went over to the grill. I proceeded to put the burgers on a platter, then reached down and turned off the valve at the tank before closing the lid.

  “Shall we go dine, M’lady?”

  “Go ahead, Jake. I’ll be right there after I clean up after you two.” She didn’t wait for me to object and started picking up Lonnie’s beer cans.

  “Okay, Boss, guess I better take lunch to the hungry horde before we have another Donner party.”

  Fred appeared at my side an instant later. His vocabulary might be limited, but ‘lunch’ is a word he knew well. It was far more appealing than any rock.

  Everyone except for Carlos and the kid with punk hair were seated at a picnic table on Bonnie’s wraparound deck on the far side of the house and out of sight of the barbeque grill. Margot had her back to me, sitting opposite Chuck and didn’t see me coming.

  “So Bonnie told me she would ask Jacob if he wouldn’t mind having a look at it. I hope I’m not wasting my money. I mean it’s not like he ever published anything for real, you know.” Then she must have noticed Chuck looking past her with a big grin on his face.

  She turned, but couldn’t look me in the eyes. “Oh, Jacob. I was just telling everyone how wonderful it is that you have agreed to look at our father’s manuscript.”

  “No problem, Margot. It’s the least I can do for Bonnie.” I could see just about everyone at the table ready to break out laughing; everyone except Chuck, who sat there with a smug smile.

  “Is somebody talking about me?” Bonnie missed her sister’s remark when she came up behind me.

  “Margot stuck her foot in her mouth,” Chuck said and smiled for the first time.

  Everyone except Margot started to laugh. Even the reverend did all he could to hide it by covering his mouth with a napkin. Then he lowered his head and began reciting Grace.

  He no sooner finished when Carlos and Marissa’s boyfriend showed up. I assumed he was her boyfriend by the way they had their lips locked together back at his truck, but then with all his lip piercings and tongue studs, they could have been comparing jewels. The diamond on her tongue had to be half a karat.

  The reverend looked over at the boy with a disapproving frown. “You’re late, Carlos. What were you doing out there? You could have been stung by a bee.”

  “Alec was showing me his new pellet gun. He can hit a pine cone a mile away with it.”

  So this is Alec, I thought. I would have never guessed in a thousand years that he was related to Bonnie and her sister. Bonnie had told me horror stories about her great-nephew’s exploits, but never mentioned his affinity for punk.

  “I ain’t that good a shot, Stupid,” he answered. “I said it could shoot a mile. These new models are better than a twenty-two, but ain’t that good.”

  Carlos lowered his eyes, looking despondent. I thought he might cry. “But you said you could take down a deer with it!”

  “Can I fix you a plate, Honey,” Margot said, looking at Alec. Her tone was soft and gentle. “Your Aunt Bonnie grilled some great burgers. Just the way you like them.”

  Alec ignored his grandmother and went over to the cooler. No one said a word when he popped the top on a beer. “Christ. Don’t you have anything besides this crappy Keystone?”

  “Is he allergic to bees too, Reverend?” Bonnie asked, after carefully placing her drink on the table like it contained a dangerous liquid that would explode if shaken. “My Diane would swell up like a balloon from a bee sting.”

  “Bees, wasps, fire ants and peanuts, I don’t dare let him out of my sight without his epipen.” Reverend Johnson answered, patting his breast pocket.

  Bonnie let her eyes follow the reverend’s hand as though being hypnotized. “A what pen?”

  “Did you grill any onions, Bonnie?” Margot asked. She looked annoyed that Bonnie had interrupted. “Alec loves grilled onions on his burgers.”

  “Sorry, Margot, no onions today,” I answered for Bonnie when I saw her confused look. The booze and too many people talking at the same time were getting to her. “Just the burgers and what you see on the table.”

  “It’s used to inject a dose of ephedrine,” Reverend Johnson said as though Margot and I had never interrupted.

  Margot put a couple scoops of potato salad next to the hamburger and handed the plate to Alec. He took one bite out of the burger then spit it out and threw what was left to Fred.

  “These are gross, Grandma. Don’t we have no hot dogs?”

  “Oh, dear. I forgot all about the frankfurters,” Bonnie managed without slurring her words. “Would you be a sweetheart, Lonnie and start the barbeque again?”

  “Gladly,” he replied, looking directly at the reverend. “I could use the fresh air.”

  I could see Bonnie trying to swallow, so I volunteered to get the hot dogs. “Stay put, Bonnie. I’ll get them.”

  Chuck grabbed my arm when I walked by him. “Can you show me where the bathroom is while you’re at it?”

  I waited for him to extract himself from the picnic table. He had managed to wedge his heavy frame between the built-in bench-seat and the table and was having difficulty getting out. Once we were in the house, I pointed toward the bathroom and started toward the kitchen.

  “Down the hall and to the left, Chuck, and go easy on the toilet paper. The septic systems up here don’t digest it very well.” It was lame, but I felt the need to say something rude. It was the best I could come up with.

  He reached out and grabbed my arm before I could leave him. “Forget about the damn septic system backing up, asshole. That’s not why I followed you in here.”

  Asshole? Who does this guy think he is? I pulled my arm out of his grasp and stared at him. “Did I say something to offend you?” I asked.

  “Look. Here’s the deal. I know you’ve been freeloading off Bonnie and this book deal is just a bunch of crap to get more money out of her and Margot. So after you get that stupid book, bring it to me so I can get a real writer to fix it. I’ll make it worth your while. What’s it worth to leave them alone? A grand?” When I didn’t respond right away, he upped the ante. “Okay, how about five thousand?”

  It was all I could do not to punch him in his fat little face. I started to tell him off when I heard the explosion.

  Then I heard the screaming.

  Chapter 2

  Everyone left the deck and ran out front when the barbeque exploded. Marissa started screaming hysterically. Lonnie had been blown several feet from what remained of the barbeque grill. It seemed to be in one piece, more or less, but the lid was gone. I could hear the sound of escaping gas. The fire had been blown out in the explosion and the hose from the propane tank whipped back and forth like a hissing snake, violently spitting out a stream of propane.

  Reverend Johnson went over to Lonnie, so I started toward the grill when Chuck pushed me aside and ran to his granddaughter. “Oh my god, Baby, are you okay?” His speed amazed me for a man who outweighed me by at least a hundred pounds.

  I reached for the valve without thinking and immediately felt the pain. “Damn it!” I yelled, pulling my hand away. It was like grabbing a micro-waved cup of coffee; not hot enough to burn the skin, but too hot to hold. Everyone had momentarily forgotten about Lonnie to watch me fight the propane snake — until he started to moan.

  “Oh, Papa, I thought he had lost his…,” Marissa sobbed.

  I took off my shirt and used it for a makeshift glove to shut off the tank, and then checked over the rest of the group before going to help the reverend. It looked like a movie that had been put on pause. Bonnie, Margot, and the reverend’s foster-son stood frozen in place, staring at Lonnie with their mouths open. I had to fight the thought of a bug flying into one of them before I realized Alec and Fred were missing. “Where’s Fred?” I asked while putting my shirt back on.

  “Somebody better call 911,” the reverend said, ignoring my question. “
We need to get this poor man to the hospital.”

  Margot reached into her pants pocket, took her phone and punched in three numbers.

  “Has anyone seen Fred?” I asked again, this time with fear in my voice.

  “Alec was bored and took him for a walk,” Margot answered while punching her keypad. “That mutt will follow anyone who feeds him.”

  I assumed she was referring to Alec’s uneaten hamburger. This lady must have gone to the same charm-school class as Chuck. Still, I felt a sense of relief at not having to choose between Lonnie and my dog and went over to help the reverend. Bonnie wasted no time joining us. Lonnie looked like a surfer with a bad case of sunburn. His hair was singed to the scalp. I had no sooner bent down to check on Lonnie when I saw Fred running toward me, with Alec a good fifty yards behind.

  “You’re not looking too good, Lon. How are you feeling?” I asked just as Fred arrived and nearly knocked me over. His tail was wagging back and forth faster than the pendulum on an over-wound cuckoo clock. He acted like he hadn’t seen me in years and tried to lick me in the face. I grabbed his collar before he spotted Lonnie’s burns and tried to administer first-aid with his tongue.

  “Damn, Jake. Why didn’t you warn me about that death trap? Shit, this hurts.”

  “What the hell was that noise?” Alec asked, grasping for breath. “It sounded like a bomb went off.” Then he saw Lonnie. “Holy crap! That must really smart. What happened to him?”

  “The barbeque blew up,” Bonnie answered. “I’ve got some Bactine in the medicine cabinet. I’ll be right back”

  Fred seemed to lose interest in Lonnie and wanted to follow Bonnie. He didn’t get far once I let him go. He must have heard the siren. I couldn’t hear it yet, but I could see a dust cloud down toward Bear Creek; it was a sure sign someone was driving too fast up our dirt road.

  “Please, God. Hurry. I’m dying here,” Lonnie cried to no one in particular. I suppose he was talking to God.

  I found myself silently praying too when I saw Chuck waddling toward us. He no longer had the speed of a track star when he had pushed me aside earlier. I knew his type: aggressive and arrogant. He would want to dominate the situation and more than likely start telling everybody what to do. I prayed the ambulance would get here before he did. Then everyone became quiet as we watched the dust cloud get closer, and the siren getting louder. “What the hell.” he said when a sheriff’s truck pulled up. “We call for an ambulance and the stupid idiots send us a county Mountie?”

  The deputy was already out of his truck and gave Chuck a disdainful look. “What’s going on here?” Before anyone could answer, his radio started squawking and he removed a microphone from his shoulder strap. I couldn’t understand what he and the dispatcher were saying. He might as well have been a world-war two code talker.

  “I need help! Please somebody!” Lonnie screamed and began shaking.

  Chuck spoke first. “Where’s the friggin ambulance for Christ sake? Sorry, Reverend,” he said with a glance in the pastor’s direction.

  “It’s on the way. I was patrolling Upper Bear when I got the call, but they have to come from Bergen Park,” the deputy answered.

  “My God. What happened to him?” he asked, staring in horror at Lonnie’s face.

  “It hurts so bad. Please dear God, do something.” Lonnie didn’t hold back the tears this time.

  He was sobbing like a child when Bonnie came back with the Bactine. She nudged me aside and began spraying Lonnie’s arms.

  “Don’t do that, Ma’am,” the deputy said, reaching over to grab her arm. “Better let the paramedics handle this.”

  “Oh, dear,” Bonnie said. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Well, no sense in wasting it,” Reverend Johnson said, “Hold out your arm, Carlos, so Bonnie can spray that rash you have.”

  Bonnie pulled back like Carlos had the plague. “Uh, maybe the deputy’s right. You better let him see a doctor with that rash.” She turned, and went back to the house before anyone could protest. The deputy’s intercom started squawking before anyone could stop her.

  “Hold on, Buddy,” the deputy said to Lonnie. “They’re almost here.”

  “I see you still haven’t bought a leash for that dog.” The deputy said after the paramedics had driven away with Lonnie. He had taken me aside to “ask a few questions” and Fred had followed at my heels.

  His remark startled me until I saw him smile. Then I recognized him, and realized he was kidding. “He eats them faster than I can buy them. I’m sorry, I forgot your name?”

  “Hampton. Terry Hampton. We met last year when you had a little problem with someone trying to kill you.”

  He was the same officer who came to check out my motor home last fall when it had been ransacked. I told him I thought it was the killer of my sister’s husband who followed me from Missouri. All Deputy Hampton said was not to let Fred run loose.

  “I never did thank you for saving my life, Officer. Lucky for me and Fred you followed up on my story.” The killer had come back and was ready to shoot me with my own shotgun. In the process of trying to hide under my glass-top coffee-table, Fred threw the killer off balance making his shot go through the ceiling. Hampton shot the killer in the leg as he tried to flee my cabin.

  “I hear you were in charge of the barbeque.” His tone suggested that it was all business again. We had walked over to the barbeque grill, which I thought was amusing considering I was the one being grilled now.

  “I guess you could say that, Officer. Bonnie was a little under the weather, so I took over when I arrived.”

  “And you didn’t smell it leaking?”

  “No, not really. Only thing I could smell was burnt hamburger,” I answered and unconsciously reached down to grab Fred’s collar.

  Hampton made a few notes in his pad, and then began checking out the barbeque. Chuck had managed to slink within earshot and was listening to everything.

  The severed hose on the propane tank was no longer imitating a hissing cobra. It had become a zombie instead. I was sure I killed it when I shut it off, but I could still hear the sound of gas spurting from it every so often. That didn’t stop the deputy from walking over to it anyway.

  “Don’t touch it,” I said. He was reaching for the valve. “I nearly burned myself trying to shut it off. It’s almost empty, so unless you have some gloves, I suggest you let it be.”

  Hampton’s hand stopped inches from the valve. “Thanks for the warning. Your friend’s lucky that the tank didn’t explode. I wonder what made him light it.”

  It was a statement more than a question, but I answered anyway. “Ms Jones asked him to restart it so we could cook some hot dogs. I had no idea it was leaking. I swear I shut off the valve earlier.”

  “Surely he could smell the gas?”

  I let Fred go before walking over to the grill. “Did you notice the smell?” I asked, while pointing to the tank.

  “No. Not really.”

  Fred had lost interest in our conversation when a squirrel in a nearby tree began making chattering sounds at him. He left me and pretended to sneak up on Chatter the tree-rat. Chatter was the name Bonnie had given the neighborhood squirrel who liked to chatter away at Fred from the safety of a low-lying branch.

  “Neither did I or I would have never let Lonnie relight it. I just realized there wasn’t any smell.”

  Hampton bent down to examine the tank and wiggled his nose. “And you closed the lid before he relit it?”

  “Yeah, like I said I thought we were finished with it, and shut off the gas before closing the lid. Bonnie told me the burner valves were leaking and to turn off the valve at the tank, so that’s what I did.”

  “You didn’t turn off the burners?”

  “All the more reason this doesn’t make any sense,” I answered, “Any gas in the line should have bled off long before he relit it. I’m beginning to think the main valve must be bad too.”

  “What a bunch of bullshit,” Chuck seemed t
o forget it was me who was being questioned. “Any idiot can see the asshole is trying to make excuses for his stupidity. Probably afraid the guy who got burned is going to sue him and now he’s trying to blame it on a defective tank.”

  We both turned and looked at Chuck. My urge to punch him returned, but I held back. The officer might not take kindly of me beating on a handicapped senior a foot shorter and twenty years older.

  “You’re that car dealer, Charlie Randolph. Aren’t you?” The deputy responded, once again holding out his hand.

  Chuck’s mood changed instantly; his antagonism replaced by a phony car-salesman smile. “Call me Chuck, Officer,” he answered, returning the handshake. A business card appeared out of nowhere. “We give all our men in blue an extra ten percent off. Just show your badge and my boys will take care of you.”

  Under most circumstances, I would have waited to speak. My parents raised me not to interrupt a conversation. It was rude, they said, but I felt like being rude. “Excuse me, Officer. I think I’m needed in the house. Can I go now?”

  Chuck glared at me when I cut him off. Officer Hampton didn’t seem to notice.

  “Sure, Mister Martin. I was just leaving anyway. I’ll call you if I have any more questions.” He turned back to Chuck. “It’s been nice meeting you, Mister Randolph. I’ll come by next time I need a car.” He didn’t give Chuck a chance to finish and left him standing alone by the grill. I couldn’t help but smile. I called out for Fred and went to find my hostess so I too could say goodbye and leave.

  Fred was by my side in an instant, but we didn’t get far before running into the reverend and Carlos. He had the boy by the shoulder, leading him toward the van. I couldn’t help but notice the boy seemed upset and the reverend wasn’t smiling either.

  “You guys leaving so soon?” I asked.

  “It’s been a long day, Jake. Two services this morning and Carlos needs to get ready for school tomorrow.”

  “I don’t wanna leave, Reverend Johnson. Please can’t we stay longer? Alec said he’d take me for a hike up the mountain and let me shoot his new pellet gun. Please?”

 

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