by Peggy Dulle
“I’ve never even been a waitress before, so I’m not sure how much help I will be but I’m happy to lend a hand.”
“Oh, you won’t be serving anything. The ladies like to see the young cowboys. I just need to you make sure the plates are right before they get taken out and served.”
“I can do that. What time do I need to be there?”
“The luncheon starts at 11:30, so 11:15 is soon enough. I’ll introduce you to the servers and set you up in an area where you can load the plates onto their trays. There will be lots of booths selling things, so if you want to browse you might want to come early. I don’t think you’ll have time during the luncheon to buy anything.”
“What time will the parade be over?”
“It starts at nine and should be done by eleven but if you sit near the beginning of the parade by Doc Sanders’ house you’ll see it all and have plenty of time to come over to the Saddle Club and check out the booths.”
“Sounds great.”
I picked up a magazine from the end table. It was from Bass Pro Shop. I see it on the highway in Manteca when I drive to Tom’s house but I’ve never been inside. It was a very thick catalog, they even had camouflage nightgowns. As I flipped through it, I thought about the rodeo events and the young men in the next room. I turned to Sheryl Ann and said, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” Sheryl Ann leaned back, picked up some yarn and a crochet needle.
“Does Jackson talk?”
She laughed. “Not well. He’s deaf, so his speech pattern sounds strange. It embarrasses him, so he’d rather not speak around new people.”
“Oh, I hadn’t realized that he was deaf.”
“He read lips very well, so he understands exactly what’s being said.”
“I wish I knew sign language so I could talk to him. Where’s he from?”
“Oh, he’s a local boy. He grew up here but his family moved to Sacramento about ten years ago. The only time I see him and them is during the rodeo. They’ll drive in tomorrow to see him compete and if he does well, they’ll stay over with some friends they still have here and watch him compete on Sunday, too.”
“Is his entire family deaf?”
“No, Jackson got meningitis when he was very young. He was one very sick little boy for months. Doc sat with him every night and we thought he wouldn’t make it at all, but he pulled through.”
“Doc Sanders sounds like a really nice guy.”
“Oh, Glen’s the best. My husband was never part of my life, so when my Paul was sixteen and diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, Glen went to every hospital, therapy, and oncologist visit with us. We tried it all – radiation, chemo, and eventually high-dose chemotherapy with stem cell transplant. My son did go into remission for a few years after the transplant but it came back.”
“I met Davis at the café and he was telling me he lost his mom from cancer, too.” I took a stab in the dark and hoped it was right.
“You know, she didn’t even know she had cancer. In some ways that might have been easier than year after year of watching my boy suffer. One day she was here, the next, Davis was arranging her funeral. They found the cancer when Doc did the autopsy.”
“No matter how or why, it’s hard to lose a child or parent,” I said, thinking of my mom.
Sheryl Ann nodded, then resumed her crocheting.
“What are you making?” I asked as I set the catalog back on the table.
“I make blankets for the hospital. They pass them out to the new babies and some of the older folks. It’s my way of giving back.”
“That’s nice.” I picked another catalog. It was for the Tractor Supply Store, which surprisingly sold a lot more than tractors.
The boys came through a few minutes later. Buck was pushing on Barry, Jody and Shelton were talking bronc riding techniques, and Jackson trailed behind. He looked unhappy. I wish I knew sign language so I could talk to him. It’s got to be hard not to be able to communicate with people.
“We’re headed down to the RD, Sheryl Ann,” Jody said.
“You all be careful. I’m not bailing you out of jail or visiting you in the hospital if you get beat up,” she told them without even looking up from her yarn.
“I’ll keep an eye on them all,” Jody told her. He wasn’t any older than the rest, but seemed more responsible.
“Hey,” Shelton said. “It was you that started it last time, Jody.”
“That’s because that all-hat-and-no-cow cowboy was an idiot and he couldn’t keep his hands off the waitresses. I’ll not stand around and let a woman get manhandled.”
“She didn’t seem to be complaining,” Buck said. “He was stuffing tips into her shirt while he slid his hands down her back and onto her butt.”
“He took it too far when he put his hand …,” Jody started and then noticed that I was in the room. “Oh, sorry, ma…, Liza.”
I smiled.
The conversation stopped between the men and they walked quickly through the living room and out into the foyer.
“Hey, Sheryl Ann,” Jody yelled from the door. “A cop’s car just pulled up to the house.”
Sheryl Ann looked toward the foyer and said, “Earl’s here.”
“No, it’s a real cop,” Barry said, then added. “And he looks mad.”
Sheryl Ann jumped up and went to the foyer.
“Yes, he does. Great, Stan has gotten into trouble again!”
CHAPTER 12
Whatever Stan did, I was sure it wasn’t that bad. He was a big guy but with his mental abilities what trouble could he get into?
A few seconds later, the men backed up into the living room, almost tripping over each other to get away from the angry cop. Buck, Barry, Jody, and Shelton looked apprehensive, probably wondering if the officer was mad at them. Sheryl Ann looked angry and ready to defend her nephew. Jackson’s face was bright, eyes glistening, and he was animatedly trying to tell us all something. He was elated? It was a strange emotional response to an angry man.
In front of them, Tom stormed in and he did look angry. He was dressed in his uniform, including his utility belt and hat and carried his blue duffle bag.
“Tom?” I said.
He quickly glanced past the menagerie of people and glared at me. “I thought your dad would be here with you today?”
Ah, he was mad at me. What else was new?
I stood and said, “Nope, he called and said he couldn’t make it until tomorrow.”
“I know, he called me and told me.”
“Really?” I said.
“Yes, he wanted to make sure I was up here with you.”
“You are now.”
The entire time Jackson slapped the other men on the back in an obvious attempt to get their attention.
“What?” Jody said, brushing Jackson’s hand down.
Jackson signed with his hands.
Barry picked up a pad from the table and shoved it into Jackson’s hand, “Write it down.”
Jackson quickly wrote something on the paper and handed it to Tom.
Tom read what was on the paper and nodded at Jackson, then tore the top sheet off and crumbled it up.
Jackson’s face broke into a big smile.
“What did it say?” Jody asked.
“He wants to be a cop after he’s done with the rodeo. He asked if he could ride in my car.”
“You’ve got your squad car with you? Where’s your truck?” I asked.
“That’s a long and excruciatingly painful story,” Tom exhaled.
“Hold on a minute,” Sheryl Ann interrupted. “Who are you?”
“That’s my fiancé, Tom,” I told her.
“Great, take off your hat when you come in my house,” she said.
Tom quickly slid it off and said, “Sorry, I didn’t remember I had it on.”
“Let’s hit the bar,” Barry said.
“Introductions first,” Sheryl Ann said, blocking his way. She stuck out her hand and said, “S
heryl Ann McCurdy.”
“Tom Owens.” Tom shook her hand.
When all the introductions and hand shaking were complete the boys left.
Tom picked up his bag and said, “Where can I put this and get out of these clothes?”
“I’ll show you up to our room,” I said.
“I’ve got a gun cabinet with a lock for your guns,” Sheryl told him.
“Great, thanks. Where is it?”
She pointed over to a tall cabinet in the corner of the room, then dug into her pocket and pulled out a key and handed it to him.
“There’s only one key and I usually keep it with me. I don’t want my nephew, Stan, to have access to the guns. He thinks they’re play toys. If you want, you can keep the key, but don’t leave it anywhere. Make sure you carry it with you at all times. If I need my guns, I’ll get the key from you, okay?”
Tom nodded, took the key, opened the cabinet, put in the gun from his belt, locked the cabinet securely and deposited the key into his pocket.
“You planning on keeping your ankle piece?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips.
“Yes,” he replied, staring at her.
Sheryl Ann glared right back.
It was like watching two bull elephants in a showdown with each other, waiting for one of them to blink and give up the power. I took Tom’s arm and said, “I’ll show you up, so you can change.”
As we left the room, I heard Sheryl Ann say, “If Stan gets that gun, I will not be responsible – you are!”
Tom started to turn, probably to tell her that he was capable of being responsible for his own gun, but I patted his arm and said, “So where’s your truck?”
“Remember I told you that David borrowed it to go to his house and pickup a few things?”
“Yes.” I opened the door to our room.
“Well, Doreen was at the house and not getting her hair done like we thought. She and David got into another fight over who was the biggest jerk. As he was leaving, she picked up a baseball bat and bashed out my headlights.”
“No.” I gasped. Tom loved his truck.
“Then she proceeded to make dents in the side of my truck as David tried to pull away.”
“Oh, Tom. I’m sorry.”
“It’ll get fixed and I would have waited around for a rental car but I got a call from your dad. So I threw things in a duffle bag and hit the road, lights and sirens the entire way here!”
Oh damn! How did I get the conversation back to me?
“I’ve had a very quiet afternoon. I had lunch at the café and got a few books from the library on rodeos.”
“And …,” Tom put his hand out indicating that I should continue.
“What?”
“You’ve been here an entire afternoon and evening. I’m sure you’re leaving something out.”
I put my hands around his waist and pulled him close. “I’ll tell you the information I’ve collected if you’ll give me a proper hello first. It’s been weeks since we’ve seen each other.”
The gleam in his eye was unmistakable. Tom leaned down and kissed me. It started slow and easy, the kind of kiss that makes you sigh and feel warm and contented inside. Then it changed as the weeks of separation sparked an urgency to feel and love each other. Within seconds, clothes were discarded and I pulled him into the soft cushioned mattress.
Afterwards I lay nestled against his chest with his strong arms around me. His face was nestled into my neck when he said, “So how’s the investigation going?”
“Can’t I just bask in the glow for a few minutes?”
He laughed. “I can hear your mind whirring, Liza. You wouldn’t know how to bask if you were tied down.”
I told him about Sheryl Ann’s son and Davis’ mom, then about my encounter with Grace Banner.
“She sounds like a piece of work. How old is she?”
“Twenty-two,” I told him, remembering what Jordan had said about her.
“I’ve met women like that before,” he said, as his eyes were closing.
I turned around so I could face him and asked, “You have?”
His eyes popped open and he startled back.
“Is there something you’re not telling me, Tom Owens?” I teased.
“Some women feel the same way about a police uniform. They don’t see the person, just the uniform.”
Okay, I understood that. I liked the way Tom looked in his uniform, too, but I also loved the man.
“So before I met you, you’d pick up women with your uniform.”
“Not since I was a recruit. We’d often wear our uniforms down to the local bars where cops were known to hang out. There were always women there who wanted to be with us because we were cops.”
“Cop groupies?”
“There are groupies for everything,” he said.
“I can tell you for sure there are not teacher groupies.”
“Of course there are. You’ve got Justin, right? Did he find out anything about Blue Stripe Enterprises?”
“I haven’t heard from him today.” Then I told Tom about the invoices from Blue Stripe Enterprises to the local doctor.
“How’d you see those invoices?” he frowned.
“I walked into his office and they were sitting on his desk.”
“Lucky coincidence.” His eyebrows furloughed together, a clear indication that he didn’t believe me.
I ignored him and continued, “It’s hard to understand why Blue Stripe would give all new equipment to a doctor when they’d rather bulldoze his house.”
“Maybe it’s a payoff. He moves and gets to keep the equipment. They get the land for the highway.”
“That’s possible. I’ve only met a few of the locals and they seem split on whether they should leave or stay. And I didn’t ask the doctor how he felt about it.” I snuggled in closer to Tom. He always put off so much heat and I was always cold – we made a great pair.
“What did you talk about with him?” Tom asked.
Thank God it was dark in our room. I think I actually blushed. “We mostly talked about the rodeo and the Cowgirl Luncheon that’s a fundraiser for their school. I’m going to help Sheryl Ann tomorrow with the event.”
“It’s after the parade and before the rodeo?” Tom asked.
“Yes. You want to come along and help, too?”
“No, I think I’ll find Earl after the parade. I’d like to know more about the gangs he was talking about. Have you seen any signs of them?”
“Nope, the streets were very quiet this afternoon. I only saw a few people out to get lunch or ice cream. There’s not much more on Main Street. They don’t have any stores or boutiques.”
“So the luncheon is a good opportunity to talk to people.”
I smiled and said, “That’s what I thought, too.”
“You should be safe in a room full of oversexed women and young cowboys.”
“I hope so, besides I’m in charge of all those young cowboy servers. I’ll be the one telling them what to do.”
“That’s perfect. It fits the teacher in you.” He pulled me close, kissed me gently on the lips and said, “Get some sleep, Liza.”
I reached up and touched his face. “Are you tired from the drive?”
He nodded, yawned and smiled. Within seconds, Tom’s breathing leveled out and he was sound asleep.
It was only nine o’clock and I wasn’t tired, so I slipped out of bed, put on my bathrobe and sat in the rocking chair by the window. There were lights on in the town. In fact every building was lit up from the inside and I could see people moving around, carrying boxes from vehicles and into the buildings. What was going on?
I dressed quickly and slipped out of the bedroom. Tom never stirred. I walked the few blocks into town and was amazed. Each building was being converted into a shop of some kind. I saw two antique stores, a day spa, three boutiques, and a hair salon. I spotted Doc going into a building, so I followed him.
“Hey, Liza. How are you feeling?” he
asked as he put a large box onto a counter.
“I’m fine. What’s going on here?”
“I’m setting up an urgent care clinic for the next two days. You’d be amazed how many people get sick while they are on vacation.”
I glanced out the door and said, “And everyone else?”
“Oh, we convert every shop into usable retail space for the rodeo weekend. For some of these people it’s the only money they get during the year. There aren’t enough people in the town to support these businesses but you’ll be amazed how filled up the town will get tomorrow.”
“Can I help you?”
“Of course.” He looked at the multitude of large boxes on the floor, then said, “Can you go back to my office and wait for a delivery?”
“Sure, but I could help with these boxes first,” I told him.
“No, they’re too heavy and I don’t want you lifting them. Besides I really need someone to watch for the delivery. I keep running back and forth hoping I don’t miss them and it would be a big help if I could just stay here and unload my stuff.”
“Okay,” I checked my watch. It was almost ten. “What kind of company delivers so late?”
“It’s a private company coming out of Sacramento. They’re bringing a new examination table. It was supposed to be here by five, but they had a flat tire and had to wait for the tow truck to change it.”
“All right,” I told him. “Where do you want the table put?”
“I’ve cleared out the last examination room on the right, so have the table put there. They will be back on Monday to set it up because it takes a couple of hours to assemble it. If you get tired of waiting or want to leave, give me a call and I’ll come back.” He handed me a business card. “There’s a couch in my office if you want to lie down, too. I’ll be here another hour or so setting up the clinic.”
I took the card and left. Sometimes I just love the way things work out so nicely. I’ve got the time to dig through the doctor’s files while I wait for his new examination table. When I got to the doctor’s house, there was a note on the door. It said that the doctor was downtown and gave his number. I removed the paper and walked into the house.
In the doctor’s office, I went directly to the file cabinets. They were still unlocked. I found Paul McCurdy’s file and read through it. The boy had suffered greatly during the ten years he had cancer. The last note in the file from Doc Sanders was – Paul expired at 11:32 a.m., a blessing. There was no file for his mother.