The Bitter Bite of Betrayal
Page 8
Finally, I found a second to put the coffee in the center console. Then I found my phone and jammed the home button hard.
“Call Javi,” I said loudly.
“Call java,” it repeated back. “Calling The Java Hutt.”
“No, no! Cancel. Call Detective Portillo.” It paid that I was thorough when entering his contact information.
Javi picked up on the second ring. “What is it now?”
“I found it,” I said. “The green Jeep. I’ve got it.”
“Allie, didn’t you promise not to do anything—”
“This is me holding up my end of the bargain. I haven’t done anything silly. I’ll let you know where it stops, and you can—”
“I can what? Allie, I don’t have a warrant for that vehicle. There’s no way of knowing if it’s the car that hit Coach Martin unless…”
“Unless what?”
“No. You’re not going to check its bumper. I won’t let you do that. I guess you could give me its license plate number. If there’s a history of drunk or reckless driving, then maybe I could get a warrant. Even then, I don’t know.”
Immediately, I floored it, making up the ten or fifteen car lengths in about a minute. My Honda wasn’t going to win any races. But as far as I could tell, the Jeep hadn’t noticed me.
“Okay, I’ve got.” I read off the letters and digits.
“That’s interesting,” Javi said. “It’s registered to Savannah Williams. Why does that name ring a bell?”
“That’s the assistant coach’s wife. She did it. Javi, I know she did. She was so snippy with me after I talked to Calista. It was because she’s guilty. She didn’t want me snooping around and finding out it was really her!”
“Slow down,” Javi said.
But he didn’t have to say it. I was already slowing down, all the way to a stop behind the Jeep. It had turned into a residential neighborhood. It sat lingering a moment at the stop sign before its door opened.
“Oh, shoot,” I said.
“What’s happening?” Javi asked.
“Never mind. It’s not her.” I felt relieved to see Savannah’s son, Landon, exit the car. He gave me a questioning look, throwing his hands in the air.
“Allie, I want you to back up and drive away. And whatever you do, don’t hang up the phone.”
“Hang it up,” Landon demanded. He tried unsuccessfully to open my door. “I don’t know who you’re talking to, but I want you to hang up the phone. Now!”
While I did feel threatened, the boy didn’t have a gun on me or anything. He didn’t have a weapon of any kind. So, I didn’t feel in any immediate danger.
“Landon,” I said. “Let’s just have a talk.”
The boy ran his hands through his scalp. Then he yelled at the air. “I knew someone would figure it out. I knew it! Honestly, I’m glad you did.”
“Landon, it’s going to be all right.” I was stunned. I had thought for sure it had been his mother. He’d seemed so nice that day at the Curb Market.
Landon held his face up to the sky and screamed once more. The rain clouds were gone. Then he shuffled over to the side of the road and crumpled onto the curb. He sank his face into his hands and began to sob.
Again, I didn’t feel threatened. Not at all. I unlocked the car door and got out. A car passed us, honking twice.
“Did you get out of the car?” Javi asked. “Where are you?”
I gave Javi the names on the intersection. “It’s going to be okay,” I said to both Landon and Javi. Then I hung up the phone.
“The guilt,” Landon mumbled, “it’s been too much to bear. I thought I could do it. I thought I could do it, for Coach.”
“For Coach?” I asked.
“He told me to get away—not to tell anyone what happened. Then he passed out.”
“I'm sure it was an accident,” I said.
“Even so,” he said, “I left, and that made it a crime. Now, I've ruined Coach’s life and mine.”
Tears streamed down his cheeks. My eyes started to sting.
“I'm sorry,” I said. “I can see that you’re hurting. I hurt for you too. You said it was an accident. Why don't you tell me what happened?”
“You won't believe me.” He batted at a couple of fresh tears.
“That's not true,” I said. “I will. If it’s the truth, I’ll know it.”
He closed his eyes. I could only imagine that he was replaying that moment in his mind. He breathed in sharply but didn’t say another word.
“Let’s start small,” I said. I wasn’t a professional at interviewing witnesses, but I knew how to coax a story from someone little by little. “What were you doing up so early on a Saturday?”
“I've been training extra hard this spring. Coach knows I want to start next season. Quarterback. He said I could train with him, and if I put on a few pounds of muscle, well, then maybe. This was supposed to be our first training session.”
I nodded solemnly.
“But,” he sighed, “I didn't wake up early enough. I raced out the door and down the road to try and meet him. He wasn't at the school. But I knew his path.”
I nodded again.
“I found him running and rolled down my passenger side window. Then I yelled for him a few times. I guess his music was on too loud—or maybe he was in the zone or something. But he didn't stop or look in my direction, not at first.
“It didn't take long until I was right alongside of him. I don’t even know what I was going to say. I guess I wanted to apologize for being late and all. Then Coach looked over and saw me. He waved. And at that moment, something happened. I don’t even know what. Maybe I hit a bump in the road. Somehow, I lost control of the Jeep. One second, I was on the road, the next, well, you know.”
I wondered how Landon could think I wouldn’t believe him. I felt downright rotten for him. This truly was an accident. If only, he hadn’t left.
“I thought I’d just bumped him.” Tears streamed down Landon’s cheeks once more. “I expected him to get up or something. I stopped and got out of the car. Coach was in real bad shape. Real bad.”
“And you left him?” My stomach did a somersault.
“No,” Landon said, “not at first. I know it was stupid, but I called my Mom. Not 9-1-1. And she told me what to do. I argued with her a second. But then I listened. I had to move that crossing sign back into the woods.”
“Oh, Landon,” I said. “That’s awful. No one should ever make you hesitate to do what’s right.”
Landon nodded. I heard the sound of a car coming to a stop behind mine. A car door opened, then slammed shut. I waited to see Javi’s face.
“Landon, honey, get back in the car. Your lunch hour is up. You get back to school. I’ll take care of this nuisance.” Savannah Williams trained a small pistol in my direction.
“Mom, no. This has got to stop. I’m sorry, Miss Treadwell. I was on the phone with her when you started following me so close.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Landon,” I said, “it wasn’t you who tried to hit me at the movies the other night, was it?”
“No,” Savannah spat. “That, too, was me.”
“If you’d have let him call 9-1-1, if you’d have gone to the police after, this could’ve all been sorted out—”
“It can still be sorted out just fine.” Savannah cocked the gun.
“No, Mom.” Landon stood up. He stepped between me and the gun, holding his hand up. “This ends now. The police are already on their way. Don’t make things worse than they already are.”
Landon was right. Javi pulled up a few seconds later. By that time, Savannah already had put the gun away in her purse. I understood why she’d done what she’d done. She was trying to protect her son. But in doing so, she’d crossed several lines—too many lines.
It was another few days before the full picture of Coach Martin’s accident became clear. The coach had remembered the make and model of the vehicle—he’d remembered everything about the accid
ent. But he didn’t want Landon to get in trouble. And in the end, it wasn’t Landon who got the brunt of the punishment. It was Savannah.
16
The big day arrived the next weekend. Melanie’s big day at least. We met several hours early to get our hair and makeup done together.
“I’ve got a zit,” Melanie complained.
“Nothing a little concealer can’t fix,” our fill-in makeup artist said. Kate had kindly agreed to step up when Melanie’s go-to girl had come down with the flu.
Honestly, I was relieved. I knew exactly what Kate could accomplish. She’d make us look like natural beauties, not the women of Cabaret.
I took my duties as maid of honor seriously. And I only had to convince Melanie twice that she was making the right decision to marry Jack. And she’d thought he’d be the one with cold feet.
And despite the fact there was a twenty percent chance of rain, there wasn’t a cloud in sight for the ceremony. The whole of the audience fell in love with the little flower girl and ring bearer—the children of Melanie’s best childhood friend Amy.
The food at the reception was a solid three forks. Sadly, even the best catering in town was still catering. Javi and I danced to a few songs before returning to our seats, winded.
I leaned back in the Chiavari chair and held the bridal bouquet up to my nose, deeply breathed in its scent. It had been a long day, albeit a beautiful and wonderful day, but I was completely exhausted.
“Whatcha thinking about?” Javi asked.
“Nothing, really,” I replied. “What about you?”
Javi twirled the garter around his finger. “Just wondering what I’m supposed to do with this.” He flicked it at me like a rubberband, and we just laughed.
“I don't know. I’ve never caught one of these either. Am I supposed to dry out the flowers and keep it forever?”
Javi shrugged. His hand found mine.
“Actually,” he said, “I was also thinking something else.” He had a twinkle in his eyes and a dimple in his cheek.
“What's that?”
“Let’s do this,” he said with a grin.
I looked around at the remnants of the wedding. A few couples milled about on the dance floor. But Bentley’s Estate was mostly empty. The employees were in the beginning stages of cleaning up. Blake Wilson smiled at us from across the room.
“What?” I asked. “Put on weddings?”
“No.” Javi shook his head.
“Get married, then?” I questioned.
“No, silly.” Javi’s thumb gently rubbed over my own. “Not yet at least.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“Let’s date,” he said. “You and me. Like really date. Not this friendly date stuff.”
“I think I can handle that,” I answered.
“But I'm in it for real,” he said. “I don’t date casually, not anymore. I want us to be exclusive. I know who you are, Allie Treadwell. For better or worse. And you know who I am.”
I nodded and bit my lip. His serious tone made me nervous. The excitement of his words made me jittery. It was an odd mix of emotions.
“We want the same things,” he continued. “A family with kids. Maybe a couple more dogs.”
“Two dogs,” I argued, smiling.
“Two dogs,” he agreed. “We've already wasted enough time, so let's do this.”
“Let’s do this.”
He leaned in and brought his supple lips to mine. He kissed me gently at first, and then more passionately. I'd waited since the moment I'd met him for this to happen. And Javier did not disappoint. I could get used to this. For forever.
The End
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Quiche Lorraine
Ingredients
2 eggs
1 small can evaporated milk
8 slices of cooked bacon, chopped
1 small can sliced mushrooms
Swiss cheese
1/4 cup diced white onion
1 tablespoon flour
deep dish frozen pie crust
salt and pepper to taste
Instructions
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Whisk together eggs and evaporated milk. Add a desired amount of salt and pepper, a solid pinch should do the job.
3. In a medium bowl toss together cheese, bacon, onion, mushrooms and flour.
4. Spread the dry ingredient mixture evenly in the pie crust.
5. Pour egg mixture over the top.
6. Cover the crust with aluminum foil.
7. Bake for 60 minutes or until a toothpick pulls out cleanly.
Mediterranean Quiche
Ingredients
2 eggs
1 small can evaporated milk
1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese
1/4 cup julienned sun dried tomatoes, not packed in oil
1/4 cup chopped spinach
1 tablespoon flour
deep dish frozen pie crust
salt and pepper to taste
1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees.
2. Whisk together eggs, evaporated milk. Add a desired amount of salt and pepper, a solid pinch should do the job.
3. In a medium bowl toss together cheeses, tomato, and flour.
4. Spread cheese and tomato mixture evenly in the pie crust.
5. Pour egg mixture over the top.
6. Cover the crust with aluminum foil.
7. Bake for 60 minutes or until a toothpick pulls out cleanly.
Also by Christine Zane Thomas
Food File Mysteries starring Allie Treadwell
The Salty Taste of Murder
A Choice Cocktail of Death
A Juicy Morsel of Jealousy (Jan 2019)
The Bitter Bite of Betrayal (Feb 2019)
Comics and Coffee Case Files starring Kirby Jackson and Gambit
Book 1: Marvels, Mochas, and Murder (Dec 2018)
Book 2: Lattes and Lies (Jan 2019)