I throw my hands in the air. “Stop saying you’re my man! You’re not my man!” I may have growled that.
Noel grabs me and pulls me tight. “I am your man. And I will keep you safe. Even if I have to keep you safe from yourself.”
I wrench myself free of Noel’s grip and stalk off to his spare bedroom. I really don’t need his macho man crap right now. I’ll sneak back to the kitchen for more pie when everyone’s gone.
Chapter 27
"Barbie Girl” by Aqua
I hear Noel come into the bedroom, but it’s way too early for me. I pretend I’m sleeping. He isn’t buying it though, which becomes clear when he sits on the side of the bed and yanks the covers off my face.
“Hey!” What are we like twelve?
“I’m a detective. I could tell you weren’t sleeping.” I huff and roll to my side to give him my back. I may not be twelve years old, but I can sure act like it. He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “I wanted to make sure you were alright before I leave for work.” No answer from me. I’m really good at the silent game. “Can you text me every time you go somewhere today?” I start to protest, but he doesn’t let me. “I need to make sure you’re safe,” he says in a soft voice.
“Fine,” I huff. He leans over and kisses my forehead before heading out.
I wait until I hear the roar of the GTO leaving before I get out of bed. Now that Noel woke me up, I’ve got places to go and people to see. I debate calling Ajax Mining to make an appointment, but then decide against it. I’m going to surprise those jerks, but first I need to replace my laptop and tablet.
Jack calls around lunchtime. “How are you?”
“I’m okay. I just finished replacing all my electronic equipment.”
“That sucks.”
“Yep. Luckily, I’m a millionaire nowadays,” I say in a British accent, which ends up sounding like my nose is stuffed up.
Jack chuckles. “Going back to Noel’s house then?”
I lower my voice and look around to see if anyone can hear me. “Nope. I’m going to go to Ajax Mining.”
“Not without me you’re not!” We argue for a while, but Jack is not to be dissuaded. “Fine!” I finally huff. “I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”
Jack is waiting on his veranda when I get to his house ten minutes later. He’s practically bouncing on his toes in excitement. I knew this was a bad idea. He jumps into my car with a smile on his face. “This is going to be fun,” he declares.
I shake my head. “No, this is not fun. This is not a game.”
“Oh, pish pash,” is his only response. I let it go. I’m not in the mood to play any reindeer games with Jack.
Ajax Mining is the biggest employer in our county – maybe in Oklahoma. They have mines throughout the Plains region. This is information I learned during the past few days after googling the company. I admit I was oblivious about mining and Ajax in particular before I read Grandma’s mail. The headquarters is about fifteen miles outside of town in an industrial area. The building is all modern glass and clearly designed to show off the wealth of the company. I’m impressed – not.
My nervousness builds as we walk to the building. This isn’t like the conservation group. These are professionals who have harassed my grandma in an effort to feed their love of materialism and make even more money than God. I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans in a useless effort to control my stress. I probably should have worn something more professional than a white button-down shirt, blue jeans, and shit kicker boots, although the shit kicker boots may come in handy.
A receptionist greets us as we walk into the glass atrium. “May I help you?”
“Yes,” I respond. “I’d, er, we’d like to see Mr. Piers Franklin Ajax Anderson, please.” What an obnoxious name!
The receptionist looks surprised but quickly covers it. “What is this concerning?”
“He wrote several letters to my grandmother about the mineral rights to her land,” I respond simply. No sense accusing him of anything until I can look him in the eye. My natural feminine ability to know when a man is lying is honed to perfection after ten years of marriage to Ryan, who lied to cover up his adrenalin-junkie habits when he realized how irritated paying for his exploits made me.
“Please have a seat,” she says and points us to a lounge area. “Can I bring you anything to drink?” I merely shake my head.
While we wait, Jack tuts at the fashion faux pas in the corporate world. “Do they know colors exist?” he whispers as a group of workers, dressed solely in blacks and grays, return from a smoking break. When he starts to point out the most egregious mistakes, I slap his hand and tell him to hush. “We’re not here for a fashion show,” I hiss. Luckily, the receptionist chooses that moment to call us over.
“Here are your badges for entry. Go to the furthest elevator and take it to the 20th floor. Someone will meet you there.”
The furthest elevator only goes to the 20th floor. A well-manicured blonde Barbie mannequin is waiting for us when the elevator doors open. She looks down her nose at us before turning around. She doesn’t even deign to speak to us. I look at Jack and mouth “Wow” before following her. Jack can’t stop staring at her shoes – pink stilettos with sparkles. He’s probably wondering where she bought them. I, on the other hand, am more fascinated by her utterly perfect physique. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone in person who is so flawlessly put together. Double wow.
I hear a door shut behind me and turn to look. I see the back of a man entering the stairwell. From behind he looks exactly like Noel, but before I can be sure, the door shuts after him and I lose sight of him. I shrug, probably just another tall man with dark hair. There’s no reason to think Noel would be here.
Barbie leads us to a corner office. She knocks lightly on the door before pushing it open. “Mr. Ajax.” An elderly man, who has obviously enjoyed his meals a bit too much, stands from behind a massive oak desk. “Thank you, Lindsay,” he says before turning to us. His smile looks genuine and puts me immediately at ease. “Please have a seat.” He gestures to the leather chairs in front of his desk before sitting again. “How may I help you?”
“Are you Mr. Piers Franklin Ajax Anderson?” I ask as we sit.
He shakes his head. “No, I’m Alex Ajax. Piers is my nephew. Why are you asking for him?” I could swear he wrinkles his nose when he says nephew, but the action is so swift I may be imagining things.
I pull the letter out of my bag. Luckily, I had this letter along with the other legal documents I received from the law firm in my bag when my house was ransacked. “He wrote to my grandmother and offered her several million dollars for the mineral rights on her land,” I respond.
Mr. Ajax motions for the letter, and I reach across the desk to hand it to him. He grabs a pair of reading glasses from his desk and quickly scans the letter before handing it back. “This is just a standard acquisition letter. I don’t understand the issue.”
I take a deep breath before proceeding. I’m not really in the habit of accusing people of harassment. I don’t even know if what Mr. Anderson did was a crime, but here goes. “The man who wrote this letter harassed my grandmother. Grandma told him she wasn’t interested, but he kept calling and dropping by bothering her.”
Mr. Ajax is obviously uncomfortable. His face turns pink and he squirms a bit in his seat before he clears his throat and leans forward. “I’m sorry to hear about that. I can assure you, your grandmother won’t be bothered anymore. Mr. Anderson no longer works for Ajax Mining.”
Well, shoot, I hadn’t expected that answer. Now what? “Why not?” Jack asks before I have a chance to gather my wits about me.
“Excuse me?” Mr. Ajax gives Jack a look of contempt.
Jack isn’t bothered and plows forward. “We have a right to know if you handled this situation properly. Maybe we should consult with our lawyers.” He actually pretends to stand up as if he’s going to stomp out of the office. I always knew he was a good actor.<
br />
Mr. Ajax huffs. “I assure you Ajax Mining has handled this situation properly and with the utmost speed. Your grandmother will no longer be bothered by Mr. Anderson.”
“When was Mr. Anderson fired?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but Mr. Anderson stopped working for Ajax Mining months ago.” Mr. Ajax stands, obviously done with this line of questioning and with us. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a multi-billionaire dollar company to run.”
I try to save face by thanking Mr. Ajax, but he ignores us and goes back to the paperwork on his desk. Lindsay is already waiting for us at the door to his office. She shakes her head at us as if we’re some vermin needing to be exterminated, but her boobs remain still and are perfectly perky.
Back in the car, Jack is buzzing with excitement. “Mr. Anderson did it. I just know it!”
“You know no such thing,” I say as I start the car and head back to town, but I’m secretly plotting how I can investigate Mr. I-need-four-names-to-show-how-important-I-am.
Chapter 28
"I Can’t Drive 55” by Sammy Hagar
“Izzy,” Jack says when we’re about halfway to town. “That car has been following us since we left Ajax Mining.”
“Don’t be silly Jack. There’s only one main road between the company and town. Anyone leaving the company would take this road into town.” Just to be sure I sneak a peek behind us. Sure enough, there is a car on my rear bumper, which is a bit odd as I’m driving – quick peek at the speedometer – about 15 miles over the speed limit. Oops!
“I’ll slow down and he’ll pass,” I say as we enter a long, straight stretch of road. We’ve got lots of flat road in Oklahoma. I drop my speed to five miles under the limit and open my window to wave him ahead of us, but he doesn’t take the bait.
“What the…” I say as he continues riding my bumper, seemingly uncaring about the speed I’m driving.
“Izzy, I don’t like this.” Jack is clearly nervous. He’s holding onto the oh shit bar with both hands and constantly looking back to check on the car.
“No worries. I’ll turn off, he’ll continue straight and that’ll be that.” I hope.
I see a turnoff for a secondary road coming up and turn on my blinker to take the turn. After I’ve turned, I look back and see a Chevy Impala barreling closer toward us.
“Oh shit, Izzy, he’s still following us.”
“Calm down Jack. You’re not helping. We’ve driven these roads a million times. We’ll lose him.” Too bad I’m not driving Noel’s GTO right now. I could lose the jerk in no time.
“Hang on,” I yell, but I don’t really need to. Jack’s hands are now permanently attached to the oh shit bar. I take a left without slowing down. My rear end fishtails a bit, but I quickly bring the car back under my control. I hear tires squeal behind and take a quick peek. Still behind us.
“Can you see his license plate number?” Jack becomes a contortionist as he twists and twirls himself around to look at the license plate of our pursuer without letting go of the handle.
“I got it,” Jack declares.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Write it down!”
“I’ll remember,” he says, but I grunt. “No, you won’t! Make a note in your phone or something.” Grumbling, Jack finally lets go of the handle to grab his phone. I try to keep the car steady as he does. When he finishes and grabs hold of the oh shit bar once again, I punch the gas.
“Fuck, Izzy! What are we gonna do?” Jack is completely panicked now.
“We’ll lose him. It’s only another five miles into town. If we don’t lose him before then, we’ll drive straight to the police station.” I sound confident because I actually feel confident. I may not be good at many things, but I can drive the hell out of a car. Having been married to a daredevil has its advantages, although I might have been a bit of a speed demon before I even met Ryan.
I slow down just enough to take a sharp right. The land here is completely flat and roads are laid out like a grid with ninety-degree corners. I’ve practiced taking corners at high speeds since I got my driver’s license. Jack and I used to come out here joyriding in high school all the time. I thought I was a pretty good driver until I met Ryan. Ryan had no fear. You can drive really fast if you’re not afraid of anything.
Tires squealing behind me let me know that our pursuer is still around. I take another quick left turn, hoping he’ll shoot by the intersection. No such luck, he’s still behind us. The dust kicking up from driving on these back roads isn’t helping to try and evade him.
“Hold on,” I tell Jack.
“I am holding on!” he screams in return.
“It might get a bit hairy now,” I tell him. “I can’t lose him, so I’m just going to drive like the devil to the police station.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
I smile and take a quick peek at Jack. “Maybe.” It’s a straight shot into town. I can easily get up to a speed of 100 miles per hour. The muscle car roaring behind us can meet that speed and exceed it, but I know these roads like the back of my hand.
I floor the gas and concentrate on the road in front of me, praying there’s no one else on this route. There’s not much traffic on this secondary highway, but there’s always a chance of a tractor or combine coming out of nowhere. Considering the size and speed of farming equipment, that would be a complete disaster.
Luck is on our side. We make it to the city limits without running into any traffic – farming or otherwise. Our chaser is still on my tail, but I notice him slow and give me more space once I’m on the main drag. I pull into the police station. I exhale when I see the Impala continue past us. I try to catch a glimpse of the driver, but I’m too late. I think I see a blur of white. I’m not sure though.
Jack and I sit in the car for a minute to calm down and catch our breath. “You didn’t pee your pants, did you?” I tease Jack as his breathing finally starts to become normal.
“Ha! Ha! Very funny. You drive like a freaking maniac!”
“Learned from the best,” I say and wink at him. Jack is a speed demon as well. He just doesn’t like anyone else driving.
“Come on,” I say as I climb out of the car. As much as I don’t want to, I know I need to report this incident to the police. Noel is going to be livid but so be it.
Just my luck. When I walk into the police station, the officer I reported – or tried to report – Grandma’s murder to is standing at the front desk. He recognizes me immediately. “What relative do you think was murdered now?” he asks and then guffaws loudly. Jack looks at me in confusion, but I just shake my head in reply.
I look around the police station, but Noel doesn’t seem to be around. Phew. I clear my throat. “Actually, we were just in a car chase. Someone was following us.”
The officer only blinks in reply. Finally, he grunts and motions us to the back. “You’d better come back then.”
Jack and I follow the officer to an interrogation room. The cop tells us to sit, and that he’ll be right back. He doesn’t shut the door on his way out, and I can’t help but hear his next words.
“It’s that chick that Noel’s dating.” I bristle at the word chick. “Noel said she’s on some wild goose chase. Thinks her grandma was murdered or something.” I feel my cheeks warm with embarrassment and strain to hear the rest of the conversation. “We’re supposed to report anything suspicious about that mining company to Noel.” I hear footsteps move away.
Jack and I stare at each other in surprise, wondering what the heck that was about. Another police officer arriving, this time a woman, cuts off any discussion. She sits across from us and dumps a large pile of papers in front of her.
“So,” she begins. “Tell me what happened.”
Officer Donavon, turns out that’s her name, listens carefully to our story. She asks a few questions about locations and speed we were driving, but otherwise doesn’t interrupt me. Afterward, she has us fill out a few reports before heading ou
t to run the plates.
The second she leaves the room, I turn to Jack and whisper. “What do you think those cops were talking about?”
Jack shrugs. “I wouldn’t read much into it. I’m sure Noel doesn’t think you’re on a wild goose chase anymore.”
I shake my head. “No, not about that.” I lean forward. “About Noel wanting anything that happens with the mining company to be reported to him. What do you think that’s about?”
Jack doesn’t get a chance to respond as Officer Donavon returns. She shuts the door and sits down. “There’s no license plate with the number 481 HDX registered in Oklahoma.” She looks at Jack. “You sure it was an Oklahoma plate?”
Jack bristles. “Of course I’m sure. I’ve lived here my entire life. It was an O.K. plate: Native America written across the bottom and a man shooting a bow on the left.”
The officer nods. “Okay, we’ll have to run the make and model of the car and see if we come up with anything similar. It will take a while.” She stands. “You guys can go. We’ll call if we hear anything.”
Jack and I scurry out of the police station as if we were grade schoolers and the recess bell just rang.
Chapter 29
"Don´t Tell Me What To Do” by Pam Tillis
Jack and I are anxious on the drive to his house. We both check the mirrors constantly. Luckily, we don’t see anyone following us. “You sure you’ll be okay on your own,” I ask when we reach Jack’s house.
“I’ll be fine,” Jack responds and places a kiss on my forehead before hopping out of the car.
Noel’s GTO is parked in the driveway when I arrive. Darn. I last texted him at noon to tell him I was going to Jack’s. If he stopped by Jack’s house, I’m screwed. When I open the back door, Noel is sitting in the kitchen nursing a beer. He looks angry. Double darn.
“Hey,” I say cautiously. “How was your day?”
“How was my day?” His voice is dark and low. “Is that what you wanna go with? How was my fucking day?”
The Gray-Haired Knitting Detective Series: (Books 1 - 3) Page 12