The Bitter Bite of Betrayal

by Christine Zane Thomas

“It’s not. But Javi’s been tightlipped on his love life since he and you-know-who broke up. Now, tell me, what time did you two meet this morning and where?”

  “This sounds kind of personal too,” I said.

  “I assure you, it’s not.”

  I told him that that we met in the park early, around sun up. Then we ran around the pond and came out on the street.

  “We were just about to make our turn and head back.”

  “Uh-huh,” he grunted.

  “About how fast do you guys run a mile?”

  “It takes us just under ten minutes. Nine, if we’re booking it. So, that would be around eight when we found…”

  “Yes, Miss Treadwell,” Detective Burley sighed, “I can do math.”

  I bit my lip. I wasn’t trying to insult him. But I did wonder how much past Algebra Hank had gotten.

  “Sorry,” I said. I glanced around, pinpointing Officer Clarke’s location. I felt better knowing I had someone in my corner if the need arose. He was just a few yards away. He smiled in my direction. I turned my focus back to Hank, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught Clarke shooting a wink in my direction.

  “What made you notice Mr. Martin?” Detective Burley asked.

  “I’m… I’m not sure. I’m used to running alone. Looking out for dogs, people, cars. I saw a skid mark just there. I thought maybe a car must’ve traveled in that direction. Then my eyes found the body… Mr. Martin, that is.”

  Detective Burley nodded, following my hand movements. “What happened when y’all found him?” he asked. “I need your side of the story, not just Javi’s. I know he’ll give me a run-down of the facts later.”

  That made me feel a bit better.

  “Javi felt around for a pulse,” I said. “And breathing. Then I ran down the road to find a phone. I called 9-1-1.”

  Hank nodded, satisfied. I hoped he was satisfied.

  This was too much. I was stressed. All this before I’d my morning coffee.

  As soon as I thought it, a pang of guilt struck me. Here I was, feeling sorry for myself over no coffee when there was a man fighting for his life in that ambulance.

  “Any other questions?” I asked.

  He frowned, shaking his head. “We’re done here.” Then he walked away.

  For a moment, I felt stranded. There was no way I was running back to my car. Lactic acid had already built up in my muscles from my lack of cool-down. I’d have trouble walking the four miles back.

  Then Officer Kieran Clarke fake coughed to get my attention. “Would you like me to give you a ride to your car?” he asked. “Better yet, would you like me to take you for a coffee before I take you to your car? Javi said it’s with his at the park.”

  “Coffee sounds nice,” I said. “Actually, it sounds perfect.”

  Kieran’s smile spread from his left cheek over to the right, slightly crooked, a whole lot cute.

  3

  Officer Clarke, who wanted me to call him Kieran, was chatty.

  “The coffee’s on me today,” he said with either a smirk or a smile—it was hard to tell. He was constantly smiling.

  Tenley rang up my usual macchiato and house blend for him.

  I watched as Gertie, the usual barista, added an extra shot of espresso.

  “It looks like you need it.” She gave me a wink. “Bad run this morning?”

  “Something like that.” I fished a crumpled up dollar from my running belt and dropped it inside the tip jar.

  Kieran opted for the reclining chairs beside the faux fire in the secluded space behind the counter. The table where Javi and I usually enjoyed our coffee was vacant.

  At twenty-two, he was almost but not quite a decade younger than me. He was what most of my classmates would refer to as a ginger. Orangish red hair, freckles, and skin as pale as the moon. He wasn’t shy. He was confident. But his wit was nowhere near that of Javier.

  It was hard to tell if he was being friendly or if he was interested. Still, when I told him my age, thirty-one, he seemed undeterred.

  “Maybe you can help me with something,” I told him. “That name, Seth Martin, it sounds so familiar. But I don’t think I know a Seth Martin.”

  “I guess he is a little after your time. It’s Coach Martin, ya know, the football coach—state champs a few years back.”

  “I knew I knew that name!” I said. There was always plenty of football talk at my family’s weekly meal. Over the last ten years, I’d gone to a few games—mostly to pick up a bag or two of the boiled peanuts that the booster club sold. They were a delicacy.

  “Bleh.” Kieran made a face after taking a trepidatious sip of his coffee. “I don’t how you folks drink this stuff. I’m an energy drink guy myself. Yeah, it’s like drinking a can of SweeTarts. But in a good way.”

  “That doesn’t sound appealing,” I said. “I guess I can’t be one to talk. This caramel macchiato has enough sugar to fuel a half marathon.”

  He laughed at my lame joke. “Yeah, running. That’s like your thing, right? That and food. I didn’t know Javi was a runner. Are the two of you like dating?”

  “We’re just friends,” I said, emphasizing the just.

  “Okay. I was just wondering. Oh, and if you don’t mind, don’t tell Detective Portillo that I call him Javi behind his back.” He smiled again.

  “Your secret’s safe with me. For now…” I caught myself flirting and took a quick sip of coffee. Don’t be silly, Allie. He’s a kid. Barely old enough to drink, let alone deal with my hangups.

  “For now is what I meant.” Kieran pointed down at my phone—he’d taken me to my car to pick it up. The phone buzzed faintly on the table, the screen lit up with a candid photo of Javi—one I’d taken on our first friendly dinner together.

  “Oh, right.”

  I picked up the phone and casually retreated to the empty space that businesses could reserve for meetings. It wasn’t quite as far out of Kieran’s earshot as I would’ve liked.

  “Javi, hi,” I said hurriedly. “Is everything okay? How’s Coach Martin?”

  “He’s, uh, he’s doing okay. But anyway, I called to ask a favor.”

  “A favor?” A hint of my flirty banter bubbled through, and I had to snap out of it. “Sorry. What do you need me to do?”

  “It's Brutus,” he said. “I put him in his kennel, thinking we’d be gone for our run. I didn’t think I’d be gone all day.”

  I thought I was tracking where this was going.

  “Sure,” I said. “I don’t mind. I’ll pick him up and take him to my place. We can keep each other company.”

  “That's awfully generous,” Javi replied. “I was just going to ask you to take him for a walk, then see if you could coax him back into his kennel. Your plan sounds better. The thing is… I need one more favor.”

  “Anything,” I said.

  “Really, anything?” Now, he was the one flirting.

  “You know what I mean.”

  I could tell he was smiling—or I pictured that he was. “There’s a gym bag in my truck with my work clothes. And there’s a spare key, a magnet thing. If you run your hand between the cab and the bed on the driver’s side, you’ll find it. You might get your hands dirty though. Would you mind swinging that by before you pick up Brutus? Then I can give you the key to the house. And you won’t have to find where I keep that spare. Hint. Hint. There are some potted plants on the back patio.”

  “Sure, I’ll get right on that. Kieran still needs to drop me off at my car anyway.”

  “Wait… you haven’t made it back to your car?”

  “No.” I shook my head, but Javi couldn’t see it. “I mean I did, but I didn’t pick it up. Kieran—Officer Clarke—took me for coffee.”

  “How… uh… sweet of him.” Javi’s tone changed. “Yeah, if you could get me those clothes soon, that’d be great.”

  He hung up without saying bye.

  Javi’s gym bag sat in the passenger seat of my car. I put on a dab of makeup, then a ran a comb
through my hair. At least I wasn’t having to put on a false face in any other sense. Being here didn’t make me feel like crying. Not today at least.

  I hated the hospital. Hate wasn’t a strong enough word. I’d been here too many times when I was younger.

  My instincts told me to enter through the emergency room. Sure enough, I wasn’t the only one there because of Coach Martin. The waiting area was filled with teenage boys. It was buzzing and unorderly.

  I had to fight my way through to the receptionist desk.

  “Are you here for an emergency or are you with them?” She indicated the crowd.

  “Actually,” I said, “I’m here to bring Detective Portillo this bag.”

  I held it up for her to see.

  “He’s with the family—in the other waiting room. The one down the hall, to the right. I’ll buzz you through.”

  This one was quiet—the polar opposite of the other. Families huddled in small clusters, leaving many open chairs between them. I found Javi in the corner of the room. He sat next to a striking blonde woman, who I assumed was Coach Martin’s wife. A daughter, who was almost her mother’s spitting image, wiped tears away with a tissue. Across from them sat another small family unit. The husband wore a Lanai Bulldogs polo shirt. I was pretty sure he was the assistant coach.

  Their entire world had been rocked out of place. I wanted to run over and hug them all. I wanted to tell them how sorry I was. But I was a stranger to them.

  “Allie, thank you so much.” Javi met me halfway down the line of chairs.

  “What are friends for?” I said in lieu of a greeting.

  I noticed a few players had found their way back here. Three young men in Lanai High T-shirts. Two of the boys were whispering to each other. The third boy sat in silence. He looked as if he understood the weight of the situation better than the others.

  Javi smiled, not his usual smile but a restrained one. He led us down to the other end of the waiting room. “Let me introduce you. Mrs. Martin, this is Allie Treadwell. She was the one who found your husband. And she’s the one who called 9-1-1.”

  Relief washed over the blonde woman’s face. I didn’t need to hug her. In only a moment, she was hugging me.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. And please call me, Calista. You, too, Detective.”

  “How is Coach doing?” I asked quietly.

  “We don’t know much,” Calista said. “He’s in critical condition. He's in emergency surgery right now. We’ll know more after the doctors do their thing.”

  “He never regained consciousness,” Javi added.

  He wasn’t looking like himself. And it wasn’t just the clothes. This morning had drained him, and I could tell.

  “You finish up okay with Hank? He wasn’t too abrasive, was he? I know he likes to give off that bad cop aura.”

  “I don’t think he had his morning coffee,” I admitted.

  “Probably not. And speaking of that, you picked up coffee with Kieran and didn't bring me one?”

  Crap! I should have known better. This was definitely a rookie move.

  “Sorry. I’m a bad, bad friend.”

  “It’s all right. We’ll suffer through this hospital stuff together. Won’t we, Mrs. Martin?”

  “We will.” She adjusted her pink cardigan. I noticed a discolored bruise on her collarbone. She noticed me notice and quickly covered it up.

  “I better get back to my kids,” she said. “They need me. And I need them.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, trying my best not to appear to have seen what I did. “I’m praying for your family.”

  It wasn’t a lie. I had been praying since earlier in that morning. I’d continue to for as long as Coach Martin needed it.

  Calista joined her family. Javi led me out to the hallway.

  “Sorry about that,” he said. “After something like this, the family’s always on edge.”

  “Understandable,” I mumbled. “How about you? Are you doing okay?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “Not quite what I had in mind for my Saturday off. But nothing I can't handle. You?”

  “I’m fine,” I said a little too hastily. “You took care of the tough stuff. Plus I had coffee.”

  “With Kieran. I didn’t think he drank coffee.”

  “He doesn’t,” I said.

  “And you’re sure everything went okay with Hank? No tough questions.”

  “His questions were thorough. I didn’t have much information to offer. Except… Well, he did ask a bit about us…”

  “About us?” Javi shook his head. “That figures. And what did you tell him?”

  “That we’re friends…”

  “Right,” Javi agreed. “Friends.”

  He dug in his pocket and pulled out his key ring. Then he slid one key off.

  “Here's my key. You’re still good taking Brutus to your place, right?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Cool. I'll be by later to get him. Watch out though. Sometimes he doesn’t like to get out of the car once he’s in it.”

  “I've got this,” I said, smiling.

  “Oh, and I need you to do me one more favor.” His tone was more serious.

  “Sure.”

  “Please, don't give any statements to the press. Let me do the talking. I know you were there—and you have every right to. But please, let me do the talking to Kate, Kinsey, and Clara.”

  He wouldn’t have to worry about that last one. There was no way I’d talk to Clara Clearwater. Not only was she my best friend Kate’s rival. But she was also Javi’s ex-girlfriend.

  “I promise,” I promised.

  I knew Kate was going to kill me if she called with questions.

  The first favor today was going to be easier to keep than the other—even if it did take me twenty minutes to pry Brutus from my little Civic.

  4

  Brutus toured my cottage home several times. He vacuumed the floor, took stock of the kitchen trash bin—fitting his whole face down inside it and finding the leftover spaghetti I’d scrapped off my plate the night before.

  Work beckoned. My laptop sat on the coffee table taunting me.

  “Not yet,” I told it. “How about we go for a walk?”

  Brutus knew those words. He pranced around like a show pony, spinning around in circles before I managed to fix the leash back to his collar. But show ponies don’t usually hike their legs on everything sticking out of the ground.

  Miss Jeanie waved at us from her porch. “How you doin’, shug?”

  “Fine. And you?”

  “Not too bad. Let me know if you need me to come over and taste anything.”

  “You know I will,” I called back. But Brutus had caught sight of a squirrel. He almost yanked himself free of my grip.

  I was sure Miss Jeanie had a few questions about the sudden appearance of a fully grown dog at my house. For now, she let them slide.

  “See you later, shug!”

  We returned to the house where all we had left to do was wait on Javi. That, and I had work to do.

  Slowly, my space on the coach was being eaten away by a sleeping bulldog. He inched closer and closer until his bruiser face was in my lap. His drool puddled on my yoga pants. He definitely wasn’t a sleeping beauty.

  I sat the computer on the arm of the couch and tried my best to readjust. Smaller dogs were much easier to manage but came with their own set of complications. I did some blog work, took the time to respond to comments from my Foodie Files faithful, then I went through social media posts from my pals at The Avocado Post, leaving them likes and compliments.

  Lastly, I cleared out my inbox. It was always trickier responding to the Lanai Gazette readers as they weren’t just virtual people—I’d see most of them at church the next day.

  Most of the work today was tedious, but it was nice to get my mind off of the accident this morning.

  Every time I found my mind drifting off, I’d get startled alert with the
image of poor Seth Martin. Brutus didn’t approve of me fidgeting. He stretched a long paw off the couch in a stretch, then scooted to the other side.

  “Sorry boy,” I said. “It’s just… how could someone hit a person and drive off like that? What if it was me—what if I went out for a run and someone just… How heartless can you be?”

  Brutus sensed my unease. In no time, he was back for more cuddles and plentiful belly rubs. I found his favorite spot, and his back left foot started kicking in the air.

  “You’re a good boy,” I said. “Nicky and Bella might have competition.”

  My mom’s dogs were small and cute. Brutus was big and bulky. He was mostly white with large black spots, one of which made a patch on his right eye.

  Knock. Knock.

  A stern rapping on my door had Brutus bounding off the coach. He barked and howled at the would-be intruder. Despite the fact, we both knew it to be Javier.

  “Oh, shut it, you big brute,” Javi called over the commotion.

  I tried to open the door a little, but Brutus nudged it wide with his nose. He greeted his owner with two paws to the chest and one giant kiss to the mouth.

  “Yuck.” Javi grimaced. “Why does his breath smell like garlic?”

  “He found some spaghetti.”

  “On the counter? Brutus!”

  “Actually, it was in the trash,” I said sheepishly.

  “Brutus,” Javi scolded. “I’m sorry about that, Allie.” Javi knelt down beside his best friend and gave him even more attention. The dog lapped it up.

  “Don't let him fool you,” I said. “He's had plenty of cuddles today. And a walk.”

  “Did Allie take good care of you?” Javi asked in baby talk.

  I couldn't tell if my stomach was swooning or lurching. These two were in a boys club. I was obviously the third wheel.

  “Sorry.” Javi popped up, still patting Brutus’s head. “Long day. Not many people see our after-work routine. I know he’s usually a lot calmer when you see us at the park.”

  “It’s all right,” I said. “Why don’t you come inside? Care for a glass of tea or a water?”

  “I'll take the water,” he said. “No, actually, it’s Saturday. I’ll take the tea.”