by Ann Mullen
“I have noticed that at certain times you’re a little bit grumpier than normal for about a week. But like you said, the subject never came up. What’s your point?”
“Do you remember a couple of weeks ago when you and I were constantly fighting about Doug Tyler and the whole stakeout fiasco?”
He nodded his head in response.
“I think you can figure out the rest. I don’t want to discuss it anymore. I’m getting a headache.”
“But we’re not even married, yet,” he chided. “How can you have a headache already?”
“If I were you, I’d stick with the P.I. business, Billy Blackhawk... a comedian, you are not.”
“I don’t know, I thought it was pretty funny. You just don’t have a sense of humor. You need to loosen up.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
Billy humbly inched backwards out of the bedroom as I went to the bathroom to freshen up before greeting the baby police. They were out to get me. I could see it in their eyes. I ran a brush through my hair and tied it back in a ponytail. I splashed water on my face and then headed to the kitchen.
Mom, Billy, Claire and the two kids were seated at the table, getting ready to dig into dinner. Everyone else was gone, including Cole.
Much to my surprise, the main topic at the dinner table had nothing to do with me, instead it was about what name to choose for the new kitten. Claire suggested naming the little tabby, Spice, because she said it was full of so much energy. She pointed to it as it pranced around. Three-year-old Carrie agreed with her mother as she always did, but Benny (who was a year older than his little sister, and thought that meant he had the final say) was determined the fur ball should be called Cat.
“I have an idea,” I said. “Why don’t you name it Spice Cat? That will make everyone happy.”
“That’s a great idea, Ant Jess,” Benny agreed. “You are so good at making up names. I like that a lot.”
I winked at him and said, “You guys made up the names. I just put them together. I like the name, Spice Cat.”
“Whew!” Billy sighed. “I thought we’d have to stay up all night trying to figure that one out. You know an animal isn’t happy until it has a name.”
“Oh, you’re just being silly, Uncle Billy,” Benny said. “He’s happy.”
“Uncle Billy?” I questioned.
“Mama said I could call him uncle since you and Billy are getting married. You’re Ant Jess so he’s Uncle Billy.”
“How do you know it’s a boy cat?” Claire asked him.
“Uncle Billy said so.”
“If Uncle Billy says it’s a boy, then it’s a boy,” she agreed.
Out of the blue, Benny turned to me with the sweetest expression on his face and asked, “Can I make up a name for your new baby, Ant Jess?”
“When I have a baby, Benny, I’ll be more than glad to have you help me pick out a name as long as you don’t want to call it Baby.”
Benny snickered. “You’re funny, Ant Jess. I have another question for you, okay?”
“Sure,” I said, wondering what he was going to come up with next. “What would you like to know, sweetie?”
“Why can’t you have all your babies at one time, like cats do?”
Everybody laughed at his naivety.
“It’s funny how kids take such a simple approach to life,” Billy said. “They amaze me.”
“Some people do, Benny,” I answered. “Some women can have four or five babies at one time. It’s hereditary.”
“What’s that mean, Ant Jess?”
“It means that it runs in the family. If your mother gave birth to twins, that means that somewhere down the road, one of her kids could, also.”
“Does that mean I could have twins?”
“Ah, it means... ah... maybe your wife could, I think.”
“That’s neat! How do you know all this stuff, Ant Jess?”
“I’m smart, just like you.”
Once dinner was over and the kids were tucked into bed, the rest of us sat by the fire, drinking coffee. We indulged ourselves in light conversation about the wedding, Christmas, and just about everything else under the stars, until finally the subject turned to Clayton Tyler.
“I think it’s important for us to be on guard,” Billy said. “I don’t want either one of you to take any chances. For the time being, I think it would be best if you stayed with us for a while,” he said to Mom and Claire. “There’s plenty of room, and if you need anything, we can go get it. We need to stay together as a unit.”
“Billy, we can’t stay here forever,” Mom responded. “Who knows how long it’s going to take to put that man behind bars. We have to get on with our lives. If the roads are clear, I think we should go home tomorrow. We’ll be safe; remember I have a gun.”
“Mom, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. You might need more protection than that gun has to offer. What would you do if the gun got taken away from you? I’d feel much better knowing you were safe and sound, right here with us. Just stay for a few days... long enough for us to see where this is going.”
“Oh, Jesse, we’ll be fine. The police are going to take care of that man,” she said. “I’m not going to let him run my life.”
“Billy, talk to her!” I pleaded. “You can’t let her leave.”
“It isn’t safe for you to go home right now,” Billy said. “You would be too easy a target there. There’s nobody close by to look after you. Who would you call for help? By the time we could get there, it would be too late. I can’t let you go.”
“I don’t need looking after, Billy Blackhawk. I’m a grown woman and I can take care of myself. I’m not afraid of Clayton Tyler.”
“Just the same,” he declared, “I want you to stay here, please.”
“Well, if you insist,” Mom relented. “We will stay the week, but come Friday, I’m going home.” With that declaration made, she politely got up from the sofa, excused herself and went off to bed.
“I know where you get your stubbornness from,” Billy said to me. “She’s one determined lady. Nobody’s going to push her around. She’s just like my mother.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Claire said, getting up from the sofa. “I think I’ll hit the sack, too. That pain pill I took before dinner is starting to kick in. I can hardly keep my eyes open. See y’all in the morning.”
“Alone at last,” Billy said, doing that silly eyebrow thing. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Billy, you know I can’t drink that stuff. It gives me heartburn, and it makes me stupid.”
“Would you like some bourbon instead? That doesn’t give you heartburn, does it? We drank some at your mom’s house and it didn’t make you sick or crazy. What’s your pleasure?”
“I think I’ll pass.”
He paused for a second then said, “Maybe alcohol’s not such a good idea.” He had a strange look on his face.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I said. “To put an end to this ridiculous notion of yours, tomorrow I’m going to town and buy one of those pregnancy tests. Maybe then y’all will leave me alone. Can we please change the subject?”
Billy smiled and said, “Whatever makes you happy, makes me happy.”
“Have you heard the latest weather forecast?”
“It’s supposed to clear up. Tomorrow the temperature’s going to be in the upper thirties, and by Wednesday, it’s going to be in the low fifties. I just hope we don’t get any flooding. I went out while you were asleep and checked the roads. VDOT has them cleared enough so that you won’t kill yourself. They’re still not the best for driving.”
“Where did you go?”
“Jonathan and I had to take care of some business.”
“What kind of business?”
“Stop asking so many questions and come over here and let me love on you a little bit.”
“That’s not how it works, mister. There’s not going to be any secrets between us, if you want to be my husba
nd. Lay it out on the table.”
“You drive a hard bargain, `ge ya,” he said, clearing his throat. “Here it is, but I don’t think you’re going to like it. And you can’t tell anyone, not even your mom.”
“Okay, I won’t tell a soul.”
“Jonathan’s going to find Tyler for us. Up until now nobody has been able to locate him. His last known address was the house he owns at the estates, but we know he hasn’t lived there since his family was killed. I guess he didn’t find it imperative to file a change of address with the post office when he moved. His cronies know where he is, but they’re not going to tell. If anybody can locate him, it’s Jonathan. There isn’t a soul that he can’t find. He’s always been like that. The chief says that he’s the one in the family who has the instinct.”
“What do you mean?”
“In our tribe, like most tribes, we have the high ones. One of the high ones is the shaman. He uses his magic to cure the sick, tell the future, and control the spiritual world. And we have many others of importance. One of the chosen few is a finder. That place of honor goes to the one who is gifted in the sense. He will use his six senses to search out his target. Jonathan’s our finder. His instinct is uncanny.”
“Are you making this up? Is this one of those old Indian tales?”
“This is true,” he said. “As a child, Jonathan would go out and find anything that was lost. If a dog ran off, he’d bring it back. If a horse got out of the corral, he’d find it. We might not practice the tribal rituals, but we still have our beliefs.”
“You mean you don’t cut off the head of a chicken anymore?”
“You’re thinking of voodoo. We don’t cut off the heads of anything, not unless it’s for food. When we kill ...”
“I get the message. You don’t have to get graphic. Tell me more about Jonathan. He’s a fascinating guy.”
“There’s not much more to tell, except that I’m glad that he’s on our side. If he wanted to sneak up and scalp you in the middle of the night, you would never hear him coming. You would be a goner... hairless. Off with your head!”
“You’re messing with me.”
“Only a little bit.” He smiled and blew me a kiss.
I should have asked Billy right then and there what we were going to do once we located Tyler, but deep down, I knew. After giving it much thought, I came to the conclusion it was the only alternative we had. The police couldn’t catch him, and they couldn’t protect us from him. What else was left? He had to be eliminated. As sickening as the idea was to me, it didn’t compare to the fear I had of one day finding my mother or my sister, lying somewhere in a pool of blood, murdered at the hands of a psycho. Clayton Tyler was crazy, and there was no doubt in my mind that if he wasn’t killed, we would be. Doing everything by the book was out—this was real life.
“I can’t believe the evil thoughts that are going through my mind,” I said, staring at Billy. “For a minute, I almost let myself believe we should hunt this man down and kill him.”
“You’re letting your imagination run wild again. Nobody said we were going to kill him. We just want to find him.”
“I don’t like this,” I said. “Last year I was an insecure, loudmouth, lowly secretary, with half a life and now I’m a co-conspirator in a murder plot. Boy, have I ever moved up the ladder of success.”
“You need to go to bed and get some rest, Jesse.” Billy took my hand and led me to the bedroom. “Your mind is wandering way out in left field again.” He snickered to himself, but he wasn’t laughing when he took me in his arms. “I love you, Jesse. I’ll protect you at all costs.”
I fell asleep in his arms, enjoying the cozy feeling of being near him. Everything was going to be fine. Billy was my knight in shining armor. Nobody could hurt me now.
Just before the break of dawn, a loud rap on the front door woke me. The pounding got louder as I tried to force myself to come to life. I threw the covers back and crawled out of bed. I looked around the dimly lit room in search of a bathrobe and noticed that Billy was not in bed. “Billy, where are you?” I called out. The house was silent. Nobody stirred. Again, someone pounded on the front door. “Billy!” I yelled. Fear overcame me as I ran to the bathroom. I grabbed the robe off the back of the bathroom door and slid into it. I kept wondering where Billy was. Did he get up in the middle of the night to do something? Why didn’t he wake me? I was almost at my wit’s end. Billy was gone and I was alone. The banging on the door continued, but nobody went to answer it. Where was everyone? Don’t they hear the knocking? I crept to the bedroom door and glanced around quickly. The house was completely dark. The nightlight in the hallway had been turned off. I slowly tiptoed to the front door. I could smell blood in the air. The odor was strong and acrid as I got closer to the front door. A surge of anxiety shot through me. I stood by the door until, finally, I found the nerve to put my hand on the doorknob. A fist pounded on the door again. I gripped the doorknob and turned it. I opened the door and much to my horror, Clayton Tyler was standing there. His arms were stretched out and his hands were around my throat within seconds. I tried to scream, but nothing would come out. His grip got tighter and tighter. I began to lose consciousness. Finally, I lay on the floor, breathing my last breath. Clayton Tyler had finally won.
“Jesse!” Billy yelled. “Wake up!”
“What?” I opened my eyes and looked at Billy. “What happened? Where have you been? I woke up and you were gone. Clayton Tyler was banging on the door. He tried to kill me.”
“No, honey,” Billy said. He wrapped his arms around me. “You were having a bad dream.”
I looked around the room. “It was only a dream?”
“Yeah, it was just a dream,” he whispered. “It must have been pretty bad, you’re sweating.”
“It was bad,” I whispered. “It was about as bad as it gets.”
Chapter 22
Life doesn’t always go the way you want it to. It doesn’t matter how hard you try, something or someone will eventually come along and throw a monkey wrench in the wheel. In this case it was Spice Cat. The minute I crawled out of bed, I stepped in cat poop with one foot, and urine with the other. It was a nasty experience.
“Yuck! What a way to start the day,” I mumbled to myself, angry that Billy was sleeping peacefully and not paying a bit of attention to my plight. I hip-hopped to the bathroom in search of a washcloth. I was determined to punish the culprit as soon as I finished getting the gross junk out between my toes. It’s funny the things that can go through your mind when you’re sitting on the toilet cleaning cat poop off your feet. Finished with the nasty chore at hand, I grabbed Billy’s bathrobe off the hanger on the bathroom door and slid my arms through the sleeves. I could smell the sweet scent of Aqua Velva, the other after-shave that he wore sometimes. My mind drifted as I fantasized about the life Billy and I were going to have. And then my thoughts turned to Clayton Tyler and the horrible dream I had last night. A dark cloud rolled in and shadowed any pleasant ideas I might have had. “No!” I said out loud. “I refuse to let one crazy man control my life.” I brushed the thought of him aside, walked to the kitchen, grabbed the roll of paper towels and headed back to the bedroom to clean up the cat poop. When I returned to the kitchen with the smelly wad in my hand, Mom was standing by the sink, fixing a pot of coffee.
“Good morning dear,” she said. “What have you got there?”
“Spice Cat has been marking his territory, and it’s in my bedroom,” I replied, turning up my nose. I dumped the nasty mess in the garbage can. “No wonder I hate animals.”
“Oh, Jesse, you do not,” she admonished me. “Why, just look at you—you love Athena and Thor, and now you’ve rescued another little lost soul. You couldn’t hate animals or you would have never taken them in.”
“Excuse me, but I think you’ve made a mistake. I haven’t taken in that cat. Unless I’m wrong, I think Claire’s the proud master.”
“Oh, you know what I mean,” Mom snickered. “W
ould you like a cup of coffee, dear?”
“Sure,” I replied. I walked over to the table and sat down. “Put a shot of bourbon in it.”
“What?” Mom screeched.
“Just kidding, Mom.”
“I worry about you sometimes,” she said, sitting the steaming coffee cups down. “I never know what to expect. One minute you seem so levelheaded and the next minute you’re off the charts. Aren’t you happy with Billy?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Then stop being such a downer. You have everything going your way. Billy’s the perfect man for you so please make me happy and get your head out of your… you-know-what.”
I laughed a hearty belly laugh. “I can’t believe what you just said.”
“How many times have I heard you tell someone the same thing? Only you use uglier words.”
“Yeah, but that’s me. You never say stuff like that.” I leaned across the table and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You’re wonderful, Mom. You always know the right thing to say. If you’ll excuse me,” I said, picking up my cup, “I have things to do.”
I left her sitting at the table with a baffled look on her face. I took my reenergized zest-for-life attitude and headed to the bedroom. Mom was right. It was time I stopped whining about the bad things and started enjoying what I had. Up until Billy came into my life, everything had been dull and meaningless, but now I had direction. It was time I started planning our life together. I had an agenda. I would take a shower, go Christmas shopping, get one of those stupid tests, and come home and start preparing for my wedding. Everything was going to go my way.
The weather forecaster had missed his mark. By nine o’clock, the temperature had already reached forty-five degrees and the snow was melting faster than a running water faucet. Streams of brown water ran down the tracks in the driveway as the winter grass began to reappear on the landscape. The wind was at a standstill.