by Judy Clemens
I hung up, not believing any of the excuses I had created, and snuggled under the covers, feeling colder and emptier than I had in some time.
***
Sunday dawned clear and chilly, and I pulled a flannel shirt on to head to the barn. The news over breakfast held nothing helpful about Genna, the bomb scare, or the disappearance of Bobby Baronne. At least they didn’t announce that they were looking for Jordan to “help with their investigation.”
Lucy came out to help with the clean-up after milking, since Zach didn’t come on Sunday mornings, and by eight-o’clock we were watching our herd with anticipation. They’d been inside for several long winter months, and they were more than ready for the outside. Since I’d repaired the fences the day before and we’d readied the barnyard, it was time to set them free.
“Give me a minute to try Nick again?” I said.
Lucy smiled. “Sure.”
But Nick still wasn’t answering, and I set the phone down with care. I was tempted to call one of his sisters, or his mom, but really wanted to hear his voice, not theirs. I assumed that if he hadn’t made it home they would’ve called me, since I’d gotten to know them at least a little bit during my once-a-month visits to Virginia. They wouldn’t leave me hanging.
Like Nick was.
No one from the Granger clan had called, either, which made me feel even more out of the loop. I wished somebody would think to keep me informed about some aspect of my life.
Back in the parlor, Lucy had unclipped the herd and was waiting by the back door.
“No news?” she said.
I shook my head. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
Each grabbing a handle, we slid the doors along their tracks, letting in the sun. Nala, the cow closest to the door, perked up her ears. Slowly, she shifted her body out of her stall and made her way to the door. In a sudden burst of understanding—well, instinct, probably—she burst from the barn, kicking her heels and swishing her tail like a calf.
Lucy giggled, and I could feel the laughter bubbling up in my chest, too. I let go with a chuckle.
One by one the closest cows realized what was happening and backed out of their stalls, crashing into each other and wrestling to be the first out the door. It was turning into a mini stampede, and Lucy and I edged out of harm’s way.
Once they’d all exited, prancing and kicking, Lucy and I stood in the doorway surveying the scene. The cows ran back and forth, tossing their heads, holding their tails up. Some were racing to the fence at the far end of the pasture and back, working out the kinks in their winter legs. I glanced at Lucy and recognized the joy in her face.
“It’s like they have a new lease on life,” I said.
She smiled. “It is.”
“Kind of like you. Getting married again and all.”
Her smile grew. “Yeah. My second chance. Although I hope Lenny and I don’t run over each other in the process.” She pointed out a pair of cows fighting over a particular patch of grass in the pasture, like there weren’t a few acres of the green stuff surrounding them.
“Think we’ll get them back in for tonight’s milking?” I asked.
She laughed. “Gonna be a chore.”
“Eh. They’ll be ready once they feel their udders filling up.”
“I guess we’ll see.”
We were still standing there when we heard Lenny’s bike thundering up the drive.
“Goodness,” Lucy said. “What time is it?”
“Eight-thirty. He’s early. The poker run doesn’t even start till ten, and we only have to get down to Norristown.”
“Even so, we’d better get ready.”
Lucy’s Sunday morning “getting ready” would be different from usual. Where she usually got herself and Tess in church clothes, today they’d be getting dudded up in jeans and leather for a HOG outing. We’d heard about it a couple of weeks before and had been looking forward to the ride.
We walked back through the barn and met Lenny in the driveway, where Lucy gave him a kiss. “Give us a few minutes, hon. We were just letting the cows out.”
“They pretty happy?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Mornin’, Stella,” Lenny said.
“Same to you. Bart not coming?”
Lenny shook his head. “He thought about it, but it’s a busy time of year at the store, and he didn’t want both of us to be gone, especially since next Saturday’s a wash.”
“I hear you.” Bart, Lenny’s business partner at the Biker Barn, their Harley-Davidson dealership, would be serving as Lenny’s best man at the wedding. I wondered if it had crossed Lenny’s mind to be concerned about what Bart would be wearing.
“So are we gonna freeze today?” I asked. “Was it cold on the way over?”
“Nah. You’ll be fine if you wear your chaps.”
A half hour later I was wearing them, and Lenny had Lucy decked out in a pair from the Biker Barn. We didn’t have any small enough for Tess, so she wore two pairs of jeans and her winter jacket, along with a good pair of gloves. Her helmet and its face shield would keep her head warm.
“You get your scooter fixed up okay for Tess?” Lenny asked.
I pulled my bike out of the garage. “I put blocks on the foot pegs for her. She should be able to reach those no problem.” I pointed out the chunks of wood I’d secured where Tess’ feet would rest. I’d also attached a seat Lenny had loaned me with a wider pad and a back rest. “She’ll be good and comfy.”
Lucy and Tess came out, and Lucy eyed my bike. “You’re sure she’ll be all right?”
“She’ll be fine, sweetheart.” Lenny put his arm around her. “Stella’s been riding for years. And Tess don’t hardly weigh a thing. Won’t change the balance much at all.”
“And you’ll hang on tight, right, Punkin?” I said.
Tess grinned and nodded.
“We ready, then?” Lenny asked.
I hesitated and looked toward the house, wondering if I should give Nick’s phone another try.
“You want to call him one more time?” Lucy asked, reading my mind.
I pulled on my riding gloves. “No. He’ll call when he’s ready.”
“Okay, then,” Lenny said. “Let’s head out.” He swung a leg over his Wide Glide and turned the key in the ignition, ready to push the Start button.
I sat, too, and Lucy gave Tess a hand getting settled behind me.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” she asked. “You hang on tight to Stella.”
Tess groaned. “Oh, mooooom.”
The morning was clear and beautiful as we headed down 363 toward Norristown. We met other groups of bikes on the way, probably headed toward the same event. When we arrived at Montgomery County Harley-Davidson the parking lot was crowded with bikes and leather-clad riders waving and calling to friends. We dismounted and waited in line a few minutes to register for the ride.
“See that guy?” Lenny asked Tess. He pointed at a photo of a smiling man on a Road King. The photo sat front and center on the registration table. “He got hurt at his job, and can’t work any more. The money from this ride is going to help his family pay the bills.”
Tess frowned. “Does he have kids?”
“Three, I think. Around your age. Little younger, maybe.”
Her lips pinched together as she took in the information, and Lucy patted her shoulder.
“That there’s Mike,” the lady at the table said, gesturing toward the picture. “We sure appreciate you coming out for him today, and so does he.”
“Glad to help, ma’am,” Lenny said.
He forked over our fifteen-dollar-a-person charge (with a little extra tucked in, if I saw right) and we received our poker sheets. During the ride we’d travel to four more spots they’d outlined on a map, all with tables manned by members of the Montgomery County chapter. At each spot we’d pick a card from a deck and write it on our sheet, and at the end of the day, whoe
ver rode in with the best “hand” would win a prize.
“Go on over to that table,” the lady said, “and pick your first card.”
We followed her directions to a card table where a man in a chapter T-shirt sat with a deck of cards spread out before him.
“Choose a card, any card,” he bellowed.
Lenny went first, emitting a growl at his four of hearts. Lucy picked a jack of spades, which Lenny threatened to steal. She smiled and tossed it back onto the table, where the man shuffled it back in with the rest of the deck.
“Go ahead, partner,” I said to Tess.
She reached out tentatively, her lips twisted to the side in concentration. When she finally made her pick, she held out an ace of diamonds. “Is that good?”
Laughing, we assured her it was. I took my turn, pulling out an unremarkable eight of spades.
The guy at the table initialed our sheets and sent us on our way. I tucked my paper into my jacket pocket and helped Tess put hers away in her jeans.
“Here we go,” Lenny said.
The trip was well-marked and pleasant, and with our multiple layers we all were able to stay warm. At first Tess kept such a tight grip on my jacket I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to unclench her fingers once we got to the final stop, but by the time we pulled into Valley Forge Beef and Ale a couple hours later she was much more relaxed, and enjoying herself.
We meandered over to the final card table, stretching and trying to slap some life back into our rear ends.
“Ready for your cards?” the lady at the table asked. She waved us over.
“Not that it makes much difference,” Lenny muttered.
“Oh, poor baby,” the lady said, looking at his sheet. “Didn’t get nothing, did you?”
And he didn’t this time, either, pulling a ten of clubs.
Lucy ended up with a pair of jacks, which at least was something, but Tess was the one to watch.
“Ooo, two aces and two nines,” the lady said. “Come on, darlin’, see what you can do.”
Tess’ fingers hovered over the cards, until she plucked one from the bottom of the pile.
“Ah, darn it,” the lady said. “A queen don’t help much, does it? But you’ve still got two pair, aces high. Wouldn’t surprise me if you got a prize.”
Tess grinned as the lady initialed her sheet.
I got another eight, but seeing how the pair was joined by three completely different cards, I didn’t think I’d be receiving much of anything.
“Lenny Spruce!” A little old man trotted over, his hand outstretched.
Lenny took the hand and gave the man a hug with his other arm, dwarfing him. “Dennis, my man, what’s happening?”
“Didn’t get shit for my poker hand, but we got a nice ride in. Sheila’s around here somewhere. You folks gonna get something to eat?”
“That’s the plan. Dennis, this here’s my fiancée, Lucy Lapp. We’re tying the knot this Saturday.”
“My pleasure, my pleasure,” Dennis said, shaking her hand. “You are either a very lucky woman or a very brave one. Maybe both. I can tell just by looking at you that Lenny here’s getting the better part of the deal.”
Lucy laughed, obviously not quite sure how to take the comments.
“And this?” Dennis turned to Tess and gently took her hand.
“Lucy’s daughter, Tess. She just turned nine. And you’ve probably seen Stella around.”
“Sure.” He gripped my hand and smiled. “Oh, here she is. Sheila honey! Look who I found.” After she hugged Lenny Dennis gave the introductions, somehow remembering everyone’s name. “They’re gonna join us for lunch. Right, Len?”
Lenny laughed and looked at Lucy, who nodded her okay.
“Then let’s go eat,” Dennis said. “I’m about starved.”
We’d gotten seated with salads in front of us, Dennis gabbing all the while, when he said, “You folks hear about the Tom Copper concert the other night in Philly?”
“Hear about it?” Lenny said. “We were there.”
“No kiddin’. So were we, weren’t we, honey?”
Sheila smiled, but I had yet to hear her say anything. I guess Dennis talked enough for both of them.
“’Bout lost Sheila here when the grand exodus happened, but I managed to keep a hold of her belt loop. Good thing she was wearing jeans or I’d’a lost her. What do you guys hear about the bomb and the dead body and all?”
Lucy sucked in her breath and Dennis slapped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry, ma’am, forgot about the little one.”
“I’m not little,” Tess said.
“Of course you’re not,” Dennis said. “But moms protect their kids and don’t like bigmouths like me saying stupid things. I’m right sorry about blurtin’ that out.”
How could Lucy be mad at him after that?
“Anyhoo,” Dennis said, “you folks hear anything?”
“Just that the lady in question was part of the band,” Lenny said. I guess Lucy hadn’t had time to fill him in on Jordan’s involvement, which was fine with me. If Dennis got a hold of that, the entire suburban area would know it by nightfall. “Don’t know nothing about the bomb.”
“Yeah, us either,” Dennis said.
“Do you know much about the band?” I asked. “Like why they switched drummers last year?”
Dennis looked at his wife. “Didn’t we read something about that not too long ago? In a magazine or something?”
“The paper,” Sheila said. I restrained myself from shouting, “She talks!”
“That’s right,” Dennis said. “There was an article in the Inquirer last year when they came out with their new album. Last one with the old drummer. Blue Copper? Forget what the article said, though. You remember, honey?”
Sheila shook her head.
We leaned back in our seats as our waitress put our main courses in front of us, the smell alone enough to shut up even Dennis as he tucked into his burger. But not for long.
“All I remember is,” Dennis said around a mouthful, “it was his choice. The old drummer, I mean. He left ’cause he wanted to, not ’cause they made him. Burnout, maybe? Not sure how the new guy got in, though.”
“What about the office manager who’s missing?” I asked. “Know anything about that?”
He shook his head. “Probably just took off with the money. Can’t trust anybody these days. Might be he even has ties with the Mafia. You never know anymore.”
And the Mafia did have a big firefight that was putting off Genna’s autopsy. I hadn’t heard that Baronne was one of the casualties, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t involved. I wondered if Detective Alexander has paused for even a moment in his quest to nab Jordan to consider that possibility.
“Stella and I let the cows out this morning,” Lucy said. Her pointed look at the rest of us made it clear it was time to move on to other subjects. We did.
By the time we were done with dessert, which Dennis insisted on buying for us, it was mid-afternoon. We were standing outside, the guys picking their teeth with toothpicks, when I saw another familiar face.
“Jermaine!” I made my way through the parking lot to where he was standing by his Fat Boy. “Wasn’t expecting to see you out today.”
“What? Because of Jordan?” He rolled his shoulders, loosening them. “I spent all day yesterday and half of last night trying to get in touch with him, not to mention staying up with him all night Friday. I’m sorry for him and all, but he’s gotta make the next move. I can’t put my life on hold forever.” He peeled off his riding gloves and tucked them into a saddlebag. “If I hadn’t gotten called in to work security that night, I wouldn’t know any more than anybody else. And I don’t know much, as it is.”
Join the club.
“What’s the story on your getting brought in to work the concert, anyway?”
He scratched his face, obviously not shaved in the past day or so. “The head of security calle
d in sick at the last minute. Must’ve been pretty bad if he’d do that. One of the other guys had to step up to that job, so they needed another body. Jordan heard somebody talking about it and gave them my name. Since I have some experience and passed their little test, I got the job. Shoulda been an easy gig, since they have such a good security team.”
“I guess you haven’t heard any more about the bomb?”
“Not a word. The cops came around to ask me about stuff, but didn’t tell me anything in return.”
“Sounds familiar. So how’s Ma?”
“Ready to pop. Vernice is over at her place now with Lavina, trying to get her mind off things.”
If anybody could distract Ma, it would be Jermaine’s cute little girl, currently the youngest Granger grandchild.
“Don’t suppose you know anything more about the office manager that disappeared, do you?”
He shook his head. “Like I told you, the only time I talked with him was to sign my contract for the night. After that, I never saw him again. And nobody’s asked me about him. ’Cept you.”
Three guys from our HOG club came up, greeting me. “You about ready for some chow, Granger? We’re going in.”
He looked at me, and I waved. “I gotta get back to my gang, anyway. See you later.”
He left and I found my three at the card table, where Tess’ poker hand was temporarily listed on the board in second place, after a flush.
Tess skipped toward me. “The lady says if I stay in second I’ll get a prize!”
“Cool beans. When will you know?”
“Final rider has to be in in an hour,” Lucy said. “They said they’ll call if we’re not here anymore.”
“You know,” the lady at the table said, winking at Tess, “I can’t imagine there will be anybody else beating you out. And even if they do you should get the prize for being the youngest rider. Why don’t you come on over here and pick a prize from the table?”
Tess looked to Lucy for approval, which of course she gave. We followed her over to the selection.
She took a few minutes looking through the stash, which included a couple of T-shirts, a mug that read When I die, I’m riding my HOG to heaven, a stuffed pig with a leather jacket, and a silver cigarette lighter. The prize that caught Tess’ eye, though, was a leather skull cap with Harley-Davidson embroidered on the front.