When I got home, I was so ready to sweat, aerobicize, and work my ass off at the gym, I couldn’t wait to get there. I checked on Snack, threw him a bunch of balls to all parts of the yard and then rushed in and donned a bright blue, super-tight workout outfit. I was hoping Mountain would be at the gym and we could confer some more on the case.
When I strode through the doors of Pure Fitness, sure enough, I could see Mountain bobbing along on a treadmill at high speed. I checked in and joined him, loving the high speed and skyward incline. It was easier to get an empty treadmill on a Thursday night when the gym was not as popular.
Without looking my way, he said, “You certainly seem ready to let off steam.”
“I am. A hard day at work.” Jog, jog, jog. “There was a big party last night and the police came. I don’t know if everyone was arrested or just called in sick, but a few of us had to run the entire manufacturing line by ourselves today. Plus, I have to meet with Gloria tomorrow at four PM and I still don’t have a single, solid lead to report to her.”
“What was going on at the party that makes you think people might have been arrested?”
“Just marijuana smoking, nude dancing and a little S&M thrown in for good measure …”
“Sammy, it would not be good for you to be found at a party like that.”
“I know that, Mountain. No need to state the obvious, but it’s part of my line of work. I’m sure it happens to your undercover cops all the time.”
He was quiet on that one because I was right and he knew it.
I continued, “Besides, I sneaked out the back. No one the wiser. So all is well.”
“Okay, I’ll drop the subject.”
We jogged along in silence for a while. Then he said, “I know the feeling and I agree with you that being stymied on a case can be very frustrating and stressful.” Mountain was a detective, first grade, with the Phoenix Police Department, so he really did know what it was like to have a case without a solid lead and how frustrating and stressful it was. He ran into them all the time, even though his solve rate was very high. Of course, it helped his solve rate when Geo and I brought him suspects and cases that we’d solved on our own, through whatever means, and then handed them to Mountain on a silver platter at the arrest stage. I wished we had one such suspect right now to hand to him on a silver platter, but we didn’t.
I coaxed the conversation in a different direction. “So, if we were to come up with a decent lead and some irrefutable evidence, either tomorrow or possibly Saturday, and I gave you a call, do you think you could swing by Gloria’s lotion factory and perhaps make an arrest?” I explained the location to him.
“If you have irrefutable evidence, sure, Sammy, I’ll come to your rescue. Right now, though, it sounds like not only do you not have any irrefutable evidence, but you don’t have any evidence whatsoever that points to an actual suspect.”
I hated it when he talked like that. It just made me mad. I pressed my miles-per-hour button to warp speed and began to outpace him, step for effing step.
“You always do that, Sammy, when confronted with reality.”
“Do what?” I shot back.
“Try to outpace me when I make pertinent observations about your cases.” He charged his treadmill up to warp speed too and easily kept up with me.
I was beginning to think I’d fly off the back of the treadmill and go thudding down it, scraping my chin and body as I bumped and skidded my way down the steep incline, but I kept on pumping. No way would Mountain outrun me.
“Just wait, Mountain. You’ll see. Geo and I will miraculously pull this off. We always do.” This was a big, fat lie and both Mountain and I knew it. Mountain laughed boisterously at my lie as the sweat flew off him in all directions. People seemed to be giving us a wide berth thinking we were crazy.
They were probably right. I didn’t know if we were “crazy in love” or “crazy in competition” or just plain crazy. But I didn’t care, I just kept pounding that treadmill, unwilling to give up the fight. After a while, sweet charges of adrenaline began coursing through my veins, my lungs opened up and my whole body began to elevate into another plane of being. I’d warp-speeded myself off the planet and it felt good and right. I told myself I was now at peace with the entire world and all the cares within it. I began reciting a silent litany to prove it to myself. My litany went something like this as I pounded away on the treadmill: Who cares if I can’t solve this fucking case? Who cares if I don’t know if I love Mountain or not? Who cares if my little fledgling business lives or dies? Who cares if Geo deserts me for Little Miss Kathy Keach and a law career? Who cares if I let my benefactor, Sylvester Swane, down completely or my new mentor, Gloria, down without a genuine lead or suspect of any kind? Who cares!
Suddenly, I bammed the off button with my fist and yelled out, “I care. That’s who!” Several heads turned, including Mountain’s, for once. I stood swaying back and forth on the edges of the treadmill as it attempted to stop and right itself to normal incline. Sweat streamed off me. I had my hand on my chest in affirmation. I said it again, pressing my hand to my chest, “I care. That’s who!”
Mountain stared at me quizzically, “What’s up, Sammy? What are you talking about?”
“Nothin.’ I was just talking out loud and coming down from my heightened nirvana plane a few levels. I’m heading for the weight room. I plan on bench pressing your entire body weight if you would be so kind as to spot me while I do it.”
I could see that he was confused about the nirvana comment and erratic behavior, as usual, but also clearly interested in the bench pressing challenge. “Okay, you’ve got my interest, Sammy. I want to see this. You don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of bench pressing my body weight, but I’ll be happy to spot you while you try.” Mountain began the spin down to normal on his treadmill.
We cleaned off our sweaty treadmills together then took off to the weight room where I planned to pick Mountain’s brain about the case and not get pissed off about any of his observations or remarks, now that I’d reached a new state of nirvana on the treadmill and could smile buddha-like at anything he said—even the comment about not being able to bench press his body weight—which was already starting to piss me off the more I thought about it. By the time we reached the weight room, I’d lost my nirvana state and Mountain and I were arguing companionably about how much or how little either one of us could bench press.
As I drove home afterwards, I realized the evening at Pure Fitness had been pleasant and invigorating, but Mountain and I hadn’t uncovered any new directions in the case. When I entered the house, Delilah was studying and Geo was nowhere to be found, so I figured he must be spending the night at Kathy’s.
I decided to text him:
Where R U?
Kathy’s
How’s everything going?
Fine
Well, the texting conversation was going nowhere. I decided to give up and go to bed after throwing a few balls for Snack followed by a long, hot shower. I was going to need a good night’s sleep to be able to face tomorrow and Gloria.
Chapter Seventeen – Nothing, Nada, Zilch
Friday morning on the factory floor sped by. Everyone had finally returned to work, so my job was a lot easier. At break TMI and I learned the details of the Hump Day Party police raid. No one had been arrested. Apparently, Lazy Larry had quickly shoved his stash of marijuana out of sight before the police came through the door and both Tanya and Handsome Hayden had somehow donned their shirts just in time. No one remembered to turn down the music, so the police proceeded to give everyone a big lecture about noise pollution, neighborly behavior, possible substance abuse, and driving drunk or high and the party had kind of petered out after that. Fake Freddy and the Vampiress in the back room were never mentioned during break, and I didn’t ask. I did inform everyone that I had a dental appointment that afternoon—and at one PM, as planned, I hung up my gown, tossed my hair net in the net basket and took off for Sedon
a.
Just before I left, Ancient Annie had walked the Yellow Flower line and informed us that we would be working tomorrow, Saturday. Production needs were high, especially since we hadn’t made the usual numbers on Thursday with nearly the entire team out with a hangover or a sex-over or some other state of over. I figured I’d be fired from both my jobs by tomorrow anyway and wouldn’t be there. I felt sorry for Annie because my absence was going to make meeting her production goals even more challenging.
I squelched those depressing thoughts, and swung by my house to slip into some cowgirl clothes and grab Snack. Then I sped up the I17 toward Sedona. It was a glorious November day, cool and crisp with sunlight so clear all the colors of the desert shone in stark illumination, especially the purples and blues. When I rocketed past the sign for the Bumblebee turnoff, saguaros began studding the hills in droves. Must be something about a certain altitude where saguaros thrive. I cracked the window for Snack enough for him to get his head out and let his ears flap in the wind. He drank in the smells and sights of the desert—we would have both been resplendently happy if I had any good news at all to deliver to Gloria. As it was only Snack was resplendently happy, but sometimes that’s better than nothing. While I drove, I ruminated on what to say to Gloria, but no good message came to mind. Basically, it boiled down to—we were screwed.
We swept into Sedona making record time and as we made the winding climb up to Gloria’s house, I began reading the street signs to Snack again just for something to keep my mind off my troubles: White Bear, Color Cove, Gringo, Camino del Caballo and just before I read Chimney Rock, a miracle happened. Geo called.
I pulled quickly to the side of the road.
“I found something,” Geo said.
“I’m minutes before Gloria’s house. What’d you find?”
“Well, I downloaded all of the recordings onto my own laptop and into a different type of software with word search capabilities.”
“Geo, I don’t want to know how you found it. I want to know what you found.”
He ignored me and continued, “I decided to search on several different words: hydrofluoric, acid, corrosive, poison—words along those lines.”
“That’s wonderful, Geo, but I am literally just minutes from Gloria’s house and I need to be the bearer of good news, not bad, or, as is my current status: zero news.”
“Only one word sprung a hit.”
“WTF, Geo, what was the word? And who said it?”
“The word was acid and I think the suspect you call Lazy Larry said it to the suspect you call Tattooed Tanya.”
My heart sank. I actually really liked Lazy Larry, but the facts were the facts. “So what exactly did he say?”
“I can do better than that, Sammy, I can send you the audio file to your phone and you can listen for yourself.”
Snack had spotted a poodle peeking out the window of one of the nearby fancy Sedona homes. He started going crazy, barking, whining and trying to jump through the little crack I’d given him to enjoy the desert air. “Shut up!” I yelled.
“Why are you yelling Shut up at me?”
“I’m not. I’m yelling Shut up at Snack. Can’t you hear him?” I yelled at Snack again. He now had one paw lodged in the window crack with his head stuck out too, barking and wagging his tail at the same time. I didn’t know what would happen first, Snack’s butt would fall off from so much tail wagging or I’d go deaf.
“I’ll just step out of the car so I can hear the audio recording, Geo.”
“Good luck not letting Snack out at the same time.”
“I’m quite competent at dog management, Geo.” Dead silence on the other end of the line.
I was able to sneak out of the car without Snack following, mainly because he now had both paws lodged up next to his head in the window crack. By the time he realized I’d exited the car, I was out and he was still barking at the poodle who had also taken up the call, barking hysterically and racing back and forth on the inside of the picture window. The poodle was one of those large white ones, shaved in strange places, nearly naked in some places with puffy mounds of hair popping up in other unexpected places. Even a puff ball at the end of her tail. Regardless, Snack loved her outfit and wanted to meet her. Of course, maybe it was a him, not a her. Who knew with poodles?
I moved a few feet away. I didn’t have good enough cell phone skills to keep Geo on hold and listen to the audio file at the same time, so I told Geo I’d have to hang up and call him right back after I listened to it. Sure enough, the providential file showed up on my screen, and I clicked on it to listen. I had to move down the hill about a quarter of a block from the dogs to be able to hear the file.
The file was short and went like this: Loud music playing. Louder music playing. Ear splitting music playing with intense drum beats. Laughter. More laughter.
Then Tanya’s voice emerged over the other sounds. “How’s your reefer, Larry?”
“It’s decent, but I kind of wish I’d scored some acid instead—might have helped me make more sense of this party.” Laughter. Loud music. End of audio file. I listened one more time just to make sure that was all that was on the file. Then I hit speed dial back to Geo.
“That is all you’ve got? He’s not talking about hydrofluoric acid, you nitwit, he’s making a joke about LSD!”
“I know, Sammy, but I still think it will be helpful.”
“How in the hell do you think it will be helpful, Geo? It’s an embarrassment—it’s so weak as evidence of foul play, Gloria is going to laugh herself right off of the palomino she’s supposed to be riding on with me today.”
As usual, Geo’s voice came back like a calm river flowing over the dramatic fireballs I kept hurtling his way, “Calm down, Sammy. Calm down. I have a plan. Do you want to hear my plan or not?”
He just let the question sit there while I stared off at the beautiful Sedona hills and red rocks listening to my friggin’ dog go berserk over a friggin’ poodle. I actually had a few tears well up in my eyes, I was so frustrated. But what could I do? I had nothing to bring to Gloria except Geo’s quote, unquote plan.
“What is your quote, unquote plan, Geo?” I think Geo could hear my voice catch in my throat. I hated that most of all.
“First of all, you don’t have nothing, nada, zilch as you keep calling it. If you go to meet Gloria with that mindset, she’s going to smell the emptiness of our position right away. And we actually have much more than nothing.”
“We do? Since when?”
“Since I thought through our progress and repackaged it for you to describe to Gloria.”
“I thought I was the repackaging expert in this relationship, not you,” I sniffed.
“Sammy, will you please just listen. Here’s how I think you should position it …” and Geo proceeded to describe a different way of looking at our progress so far.
I listened carefully and said, “I’ll try.”
“That’s all you can do, Sammy. Let me know how it goes. Meanwhile, I’ll try different search words across the audio files, and I’ll try a new approach I’ve thought up for hacking into the lotion factory’s e-mail system.”
I said, “Thank you, Geo,” and I could tell Geo knew I was really down and out because I never told him thank you. More tears welled up in my eyes. I let them flow for a bit hoping to cleanse out my emotions and reach a calmer place. The Sedona hills just sat there as they had for centuries, as red and timeless as ever. I finally hit bottom in my crying jag. Took in a deep breath. Rubbed my eyes with the sleeve of my ultra-cool jean jacket found at a garage sale and marched back to the car.
I slipped into the driver’s seat unnoticed by Snack and said “Enough!” to him—calmly, deeply, seriously. I really had hit bottom, I guess.
Snack nearly jumped out of his skin, scraggled his head every which way until he was able to get it and his paws back in the car. He actually shut up completely and turned to look at me in surprise.
“That’s better,�
� I told him calmly and started the car back up. Minutes later I reached Lizard Head Lane and curved up the final road to Gloria’s impressive gate and my fate.
Chapter Eighteen – Palomino Sunset in Sedona
I called Gloria on my cell as instructed and pretty soon she came swinging her hips down the hill, her blonde hair blowing out behind her from the slight wind coming from the west. Her two female goldens, Kachina and Kiva, walked beside her. I let Snack spring from the car and bound over to them, bouncing around the girls like a kangaroo on steroids. Gloria called him to her, firmly took hold of his collar, made him sit, mind and heel, and he did. Just like that.
Gloria unlocked the gate and let me through. I wasn’t sure why she always had me leave the car outside the gate, but who was I to question her requests? She relocked the gate, reached out and shook my hand, and we all began the short, winding climb back to her home up a gravel road. When we reached it, Gloria looked at me and said, “I see you’ve only brought your handbag.” I gulped. I probably should have brought some doctored up reports or something.
She continued, “I’ve had a rough couple of days (I wanted to say you and me both, lady, but I kept silent) dealing with another business that’s having issues as well as my lotions line. If you don’t mind, Sammy, let’s put your bag inside and get right to the horses. Riding through this beautiful countryside is how I let go and relax, and today I need a lot of that. How good of a rider are you?”
“I’m top notch,” I said without a moment’s hesitation.
“Hmmm … for some reason, I thought you might say that.” I couldn’t tell if she was playing with me or what. Her face remained stoic, “I have four horses right now: my lovely mare that I usually ride, a yearling too young to ride, an older gelding I call Golden Oldie, and then my very special stallion, Rainmaker. Would you rather ride Golden Oldie or Rainmaker?”
Trudi Baldwin - Sammy Dick, PI 02 - Acid Test for Yellow Flower Page 13