Mom immediately turned to me and said, “I got you a new client. You need to be more aggressive in your marketing. Act like a pit bull, not an elderly basset hound.”
I searched my mind for a dog motif comeback line, but I was too sleep-deprived. Anxious to put at least a temporary halt to my nomadic existence, we drove our separate cars to her house—the three dogs in her truck bed, most of my possessions in my backseat. It took me little time to clear my things out of the backseat and into the closet of her guest room. Afterwards, I found her seated at the kitchen table enjoying a cup of tea, mine already poured and occupying the place mat across from hers.
“I take it you shared my appreciation for my favorite flight student last night?” she asked as I sat down.
“Keith Terrington?” I took a sip of the tea. It had a pleasant, tangy flavor that I recognized. Cranberry Cove, from the local Celestial Seasonings factory.
“Yes. He really is my favorite student, you know.”
“From what little I saw, he seems terrific. Thanks for introducing us. I just wish things had been a lot less harried yesterday, so that I could have made a better impression.”
“Oh, don’t underestimate yourself, my dear. I just hope he’s good enough for you. I was worried you wouldn’t find him attractive.”
I chuckled at the thought of my not finding Keith attractive, who was one of the most handsome men I’d seen on this side of a movie screen. “See, you’re supposed to think that way. You’re hopelessly biased because you’re my mother.”
“I am not!”
I raised my eyebrows and she added, “Biased, that is. Well, okay, I am biased, but I’m also a good judge of people.”
“What did you think of Joel Meyer?”
“He seems nice enough. Are you thinking of dating him, too?”
I shrugged. “It made me a little nervous the way Sage wouldn’t stop barking at him.”
“Joel was only there for two minutes or so. Sage probably would have stopped on his own momentarily.”
“I meant to tell you, Mom, I haven’t had the chance to condition Sage out of barking at men in hats.”
“He barks at men wearing—” She paused, then said, “Oh, that’s right. The men in raincoats thing. That was actually directed at hats?”
“Oddly, yes.” I sipped my tea and considered the matter. In point of fact, barking at raincoats would have been much more common. A long raincoat would likely make a swooshing noise, and its wearer would be considerably bulkier looking to a dog. Either sensation could have easily upset Sage. The hat, however, was admittedly odd.
“Which is something I wanted to talk to you about,” my mom began in a non sequitur. “There’s something special about Sage. Don’t take this the wrong way; I’m very fond of Pavlov, too. It’s just that...maybe it’s because Sage is so homely.”
“Homely?”
“In a classical sense. He’s got this one ear up, the other down, the bumpy, Roman nose. But really, it’s the fact that he’s ...so noble, despite being an orphan. Anyway, what I’m trying to get at is, I want to keep Sage.”
I sat up in surprise. “Really?” I mentally readjusted. I’d been thinking of finding a place for all three dogs and me, not wanting to see Sage go, either. But this was a better solution—and one that allowed me to go on seeing Sage in the future. “The offer’s come up many times, of late. It’s as though Sage is the most adoptable pet in the city of Boulder. That’s what concerns me. I’m not sure it’s safe to own him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Both of his former owners were killed. What if that’s because some creep forced Sage to swallow a diamond or a packet of cocaine or something? You hear about things like that on the news sometimes.” I snapped my fingers and hopped to my feet. “Wait a minute. That’s it! Some smuggler wanted to get something in or out of the country in Sage’s stomach. So he or she destroyed Sage’s dog food, so that he’d be hungry enough to swallow the contraband!”
Mom furrowed her brow. “You think that over a month ago, somebody forcefed Sage contraband? The dog would poop it out the next day.”
That was a good point. Although gross. “But maybe it was a regular thing. Every month or so they’d force-feed Sage the contraband, and it was working so well, they didn’t want to have to start all over again with a new dog.”
“Why would anyone take the risk of doing that to another person’s dog?”
“If it was Hannah’s business partner, who got greedy...” My thoughts raced ahead of me. What if Hannah was not as sweet and scrupulous as everyone thinks? She and a partner use Sage to smuggle. That could explain Hannah’s flying lessons at her late age. She intended to pilot the plane for their illegal operation. The partner kills Hannah, but doesn’t want to draw attention to himself by taking the dog immediately.
As if reading my thoughts, Mom shook her head. “Remember, I knew Hannah Jones. It simply isn’t possible. She lived as a law-abiding citizen all her life. She had more than enough money, no dependents, and not much longer to live. She would never risk injuring Sage.”
“Maybe the food wasn’t actually tainted till Beth Gleason got it, then. It could have been a coincidence that Sage took to preferring Shakespeare’s dog food. Maybe that’s what gave Beth’s boyfriend the idea to taint the dog food and feed Sage the contraband.”
“Shakespeare?”
“The dog owned by the people who gave Sage up for adoption after Hannah was killed.”
“This is all very farfetched.”
“So’s everything regarding Sage. I’m calling the detective in charge of the investigation and telling him my theory.”
“I’m sure he’ll be appreciative.”
Ignoring Mom’s sarcasm, I dialed and spoke at length with the detective. Though he was very polite, it struck me that he was exceedingly so. I got the uncomfortable feeling that the moment we hung up, he announced to his peers, “I got me a loony, guys! This crazy broad’s got a theory about smuggling and wants me to pressure some poor slob who’s just lost his girlfriend!”
Mom was listening to my end of the conversation and undoubtedly noticed my pink cheeks. Nonetheless, she said, “You didn’t answer my question about my taking permanent ownership of Sage.”
“As far as I know, no one else has a legitimate legal claim to him, so unless one surfaces, he’s yours.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“That doesn’t mean I won’t keep him with me or at yet another place till whoever did this is under arrest, though.”
“Now that that matter’s out of the way, let’s head back to your house and get the rest of your things, shall we?”
We drove to my house in her truck, this time leaving the dogs at home so we could use all of the covered truck bed for my stuff. En route, I filled her in at great length about Kaitlyn and my troubles with her. When we reached the house, I got my key ready, but the door was open, though I didn’t spot Kaitlyn’s car out front. My senses immediately leapt to red alert. Was Bill Wayne trespassing again?
To my surprise, Kaitlyn was seated in the living room. Her smile faded a little at the sight of me and my mom. “Hi,” she said. “Are you moving back in?”
“No, I’m here to finish moving out.”
My mom stepped in between us.
“This is my mother. She’s going to help me pack the rest of my stuff.”
“Hello, Kaitlyn. I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you and my daughter. You have a nice little place here.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Babcock,” said Kaitlyn, demonstrating the charm and self control that had duped me in the first place. “This is so ridiculous. I need a roommate, and we got along great. Tell her not to do this.”
Mom took a seat on the opposite side of the couch from Kaitlyn, but reached over and patted her knee. “You and I need to have a little talk, woman to woman.”
Kaitlyn shot a desperate glance my way. Not about to help, I asked, “Where’s your car, Kaitlyn?”
“I parked in the back alley. In case Bill comes by, I wanted to surprise him.”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about,” my mom began. “Is it true that you haven’t even changed the locks since your husband moved out almost three years ago?”
“Yes, but...why should I change the locks? I’m hoping we’ll reconcile.”
“You need to protect yourself. You have no idea what changes your husband might have gone through since he left you. What if he’s become violent?”
“Bill? That’s ridiculous!”
“Was it ridiculous when he implied to my daughter that you badly injured a dog the two of you owned?”
“No. I mean, yes. I...don’t know. We never owned a dog. I still don’t know what Bill meant. Maybe Allida just... misunderstood him.”
“Or maybe Bill was lying. Regardless of your personal history, do you really want to trust a man who would accuse you of something like that to have the keys to your house?”
Kaitlyn seemed to deflate. She mumbled, “No, I guess not.” Mom had her over the barrel. If Bill was telling the complete truth about her and their dog, she couldn’t admit it. I felt a little sorry for her. In dealing with my mother, she was hopelessly overmatched.
Wanting to take the coward’s way out and not have to witness anymore of this, I started to head for the kitchen to begin packing my things. The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” I cried.
My heart leapt at the sight of Keith Terrington at my door. Good Lord, he was handsome, wearing tight, faded denims and a forest green turtleneck. “Hi, Allida. I’m sorry to come over uninvited.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“I don’t live all that far from here and thought I’d swing by, just in case. There’s something I have to talk to you about right away.”
“Come on in. We’re in the midst of moving my stuff out.” This was convenient, I thought. I’d give my mother a chance to see Keith and me together now, instead of during the more socially awkward situation of picking me up for a date.
My mother rose and smiled broadly at her “favorite flight student.” Then to my utter shock, she stepped toward him and offered him her hand to shake. “Hello. I’m Allida’s mother. Are you a friend of hers?”
Chapter 14
Keith stood there, looking at me as if he were the dog who’d just been caught with his nose in the kitchen garbage can. I was too stunned and hurt even to move.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said to me quietly, sounding a little upset, but nowhere near as bad as I felt. “I’m not Keith Terrington. I’m Alex Ferron, his best friend.”
My mother recoiled, withdrawing her proffered hand. There was a flash of anger in her eyes directed at The Man Formerly Known as Keith Terrington. Her expression changed to one of sympathy as she looked at me. “Guess I’d better leave you two alone.” She turned to Kaitlyn, who was still seated in the living room and watching us with slackened jaw. “Why don’t you help me separate what’s Allida’s from what’s yours in the kitchen?”
Kaitlyn gave a little appreciative smile at Keith—or rather, Alex—as she went into the kitchen with Mom. My mother’s notion of sorting kitchen items was not the best of all plans, if she truly intended to give Alex and me privacy. There was no kitchen door to shut and they would be able to hear every word we said. Nevertheless, I was not about to risk trusting Keith/Alex enough to step outside with him. I headed to the living room and slumped onto the nearest chair, my ego having taken a massive beating.
“Allida?” Keith/Alex said quietly. “This all must seem unforgivable right now, but I truly am sorry. What happened was, Keith told your mother he’d go out with you only because he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”
Wonderful. I had been a pity date to appease my mom. That made me feel so much better.
Keith/Alex continued, “Then a friend gave him a ticket to a Nuggets’ basketball game last night, and he couldn’t stand the thought of calling you up and telling you he’d rather do that than go out with you.”
“How considerate,” I growled. His words were moving me rapidly out of a state of self-pity and into anger. Kaitlyn had left a copy of the Boulder Daily Camera sitting on the coffee table, and I envisioned myself rolling it up and whacking him with it.
Keith/Alex paused to assess my mood. Wisely, he rose and distanced himself such that the coffee table was directly between us. “I owed him a huge favor, so he pleaded with me to fill in for him and, well, let you down gently.”
“Is any of this supposed to make me feel better? Because if it is, I gotta tell you honestly, it’s not doing the trick.”
“I know. I’m sorry. See, Keith was just going to back out of his date with you, but then I happened to have been listening to the Tracy Truett Show during my lunch break on Friday. I was intrigued and wanted to see what you looked like, so I asked Keith if I could stand in for him. He made me promise I’d pretend to be him at first, treat you to a fancy dinner, and then tell you who I really was.”
“At which point, I’d tell my mother what you and he did to me, and she’d force Keith’s lucky hat down his throat.”
My suspicions that Mom was listening in—fueled by a lack of “sorting” noises coming from the kitchen—were confirmed at this last remark, when I heard what sounded rather like a proud chortle.
Keith/Alex paused and glanced in the direction of the kitchen. He lowered his voice and said, “I don’t think he was thinking ahead very clearly. Not only because of that, but because I...I want to keep seeing you, and now—”
“Is that why you called me last night after our date? To tell me over the phone who you really were?”
“That, plus to beg your forgiveness. Only then you immediately told me about your roommate’s date being a setup, so I—”
“What?” came a shriek from the kitchen. Kaitlyn charged around the corner, my jar of peanut butter and can of chicken noodle soup in her hands. She pointed at me with the index finger of her chicken soup hand. “What do you mean my date was a setup?”
I sighed. She looked set to fling the food items at me if she didn’t care for my answer. I could likely fend off the peanut butter, which was in a plastic jar anyway, but if Kaitlyn decided to throw the soup can at me, I’d better hope her aim was off. In the meantime, Keith/Alex winced and watched us in shock.
Mom rushed into the room. “Could you take me on a tour of the backyard, Kaitlyn?”
Kaitlyn glared at Mom, then said to me, “Well?”
“Bill asked me not to hurt your feelings by telling you that ...your date Saturday night was with someone he knew. He wanted us out of the house so he could search for something.”
“Bill wouldn’t do that! And Jim’s a terrific guy! He wouldn’t have agreed to such a thing, either. You’re lying!” Kaitlyn cocked her arm. I dove off the couch and onto my knees. Keith/Alex and my mom were a second too late as they both tried to grab her. Kaitlyn flung the chicken soup with so much force the can crashed through the window behind me—right where my head had been. We all stared at the shattered glass in stunned silence for a moment.
And friends wonder why I sometimes prefer the company of dogs to humans.
Kaitlyn dropped the peanut butter and brought both hands to her lips. “I can’t believe I just did that.”
“Are you all right?” Mom asked me. Her hands were fisted, and she appeared ready to slug Kaitlyn if my answer was no.
I nodded and rose. Glass fragments were on the back of the couch and seat cushions, but none had hit me, as far as I could tell. “So much for chicken soup being good for the soul,” I muttered.
Kaitlyn was hugging herself.
“I’m very sorry you overheard my conversation with Keith. Alex, I mean. I’m telling the truth about what Bill told me, but you can believe what you want to believe.”
Kaitlyn’s lower lip trembled, but she refrained from crying. She lifted her chin, whirled on a heel, and marched back into the kitchen
. Mom’s eyes were wide with alarm. She told me in a whisper, “Sorry. Did you know Kaitlyn can listen to someone else’s conversation in another room while she’s speaking herself?”
“I heard that!” Kaitlyn called.
“Maybe we should forget getting the rest of my stuff and just leave now.”
Mom nodded. “I’ll grab whatever’s left in your bedroom, and we’ll write off the rest.”
I returned my attention to Alex. He had paled and was looking at the broken window in disbelieving silence, his hands deep in the pockets of his tight jeans. He was as handsome as ever, and part of me still wanted to be open to the possibilities. I wasn’t sure whom I should be angry at—him? The real Keith? Myself?
Just then, he turned and caught my gaze. “This has been...a nightmare,” he said. “Everything I say has resulted in...”
“I’m going to need some time to sort through my feelings.”
He handed me a business card. “Could you call me? Whenever you want, I’ll...” His vision drifted to the broken window behind me. He shook his head. “I can’t believe how badly all of this went.” He headed out the door.
I watched him, wondering if I’d ever really speak to him again. And, if I did, whether or not I’d remember his name was Alex Ferron. In any case, Keith Terrington had just exited my life forever.
Mom came out of my room with a full laundry basket in her arms. Judging by the nervous look in her eyes, she wanted just as much as I did to get us out of there before Kaitlyn could attack me again. “C’mon,” she said. “There’re a couple of ugly towels in the bathroom that might belong to you, but we’ll go shopping tomorrow.”
Mom gasped in a rare display of nerves as Kaitlyn emerged from the kitchen, a full carton of jars and canned goods in her arms. Mom looked as though she were ready to drop the basket and step between us to protect me, but Kaitlyn said softly, “Here, Allida. I think this is everything. I owe you a can of soup.”
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