“What the hell . . .” Jake exploded.
“Giz, I’d appreciate some silence here. Your charge is throwing me off.”
Giz looked from Gracie to Jake. His ears went flat, and he tucked his tail between his legs as he moved closer to the chair. With all the power in his body, Giz spun the chair around and around, and Gracie got dizzy watching the spinning motion until Jake and the chair were flush with the desk. Giz barked three times.
“Three barks means Sergeant Gizmo is tired of your shenanigans. Open your mouth again, and his foot will be in it. Now READ! Make sure you absorb what you’re reading because I will quiz you, and if you fail, we’re back to square one. Consider yourself lucky, Mr. Masters, that you had the brakes on the chair. If the brakes had been off, I’d be peeling you off the ceiling about now. The next time, you might not be so lucky.”
“Goddamn Nazi. That’s exactly what you are! This is my house, my room, my office, and you are a paid employee.”
“How’s that working for you right now, Mr. Whiny Puke?” Gracie cooed. Oh, God, she didn’t just say that, did she?
Moose thought he was going to choke to death on his own laughter. This was the most fun he’d had since they’d moved here after Jake’s accident. He could hardly wait to get out to the kitchen so he could call Beth on the sneak.
Chapter Nine
Moose Dennison punched in Beth Masters’s cell phone number and waited for it to be answered as he ground the hazelnut beans that Gracie Sweet had requested. The machine turned off just as Beth announced herself on the other end of the line. For no reason other than that he loved talking to Little Beezer, as he thought of Jake’s sister, Moose started to laugh on the open line and couldn’t stop as he spooned coffee into the wire basket in his hands.
“Stop cackling, Moose, and tell me what’s going on,” Beth said in a nervous voice that carried clearly over the line.
“Your girl has your brother on the run. Beezer, I wish you were here to have seen and heard it. That dog . . . God Almighty, he is one fierce animal. Right now, he’s got Jake pinned to his desk, and let me be the first to say I have never seen fear in your brother, but he is scared out of his wits at that dog. No, let me take that back. I think he’s more afraid of Gracie Sweet. She might look like an angel, but she was nothing but a devil in that room not ten minutes ago. She let him have it with both barrels.”
“Good! Good! Moose, you do realize that’s not who Gracie is, right? She is the sweetest woman alive and does not have a mean bone in her body. She’s just following the plan I laid out for her. Sounds like it might be working. What did Jake do?”
“Well, he tried to fire her. She set him straight about that. Then I quit.”
“You quit every day, so that’s nothing new,” Beth said.
“This time I’m going to the Holiday Inn for a few days. To teach him a lesson once and for all.”
“What about Calvin?”
“Here’s the thing with Calvin. Gracie said to tell him she’ll let him know when she’s going to release Jake. Said it might not be till next week, so I sent Calvin home but paid him for the time off. The dog is guarding the phone, so Jake can’t make any calls. Jake actually wanted me to call the police, do you believe that?” Moose said, indignation ringing in his voice.
“I believe anything where my brother is concerned. You told me yesterday that he made an appointment with the surgeon and the shrink for next week. What are the odds he will keep either one, Moose?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, Beezer. I’ve lost count over the past three years how many times he scheduled appointments, then canceled them. He sounded like he meant it this time, but I just don’t know.”
“Yeah, I know. Do you think Gracie can hold up to him?”
“Well, she sure got his attention first crack out of the gate. We both know Jake doesn’t curse, but man oh man, he let loose with some cusswords I ain’t never heard before.”
“Locker room vernacular,” Beth said, laughing. “I’m going to take that as a good sign. Don’t laugh, Moose, but maybe, just maybe, Jake will actually go through with the surgery just to get away from Gracie. Whadda ya think?”
Moose went off into another cackle of laughter. “Anything is possible. Beezer, is that dog all she says he is?”
Beth laughed again. “All of that plus a bag of chips. I really love that dog. I used to dog sit him when Gracie had somewhere to go where she couldn’t take him. He’s more human than some humans I know. But you always have to remember. Giz is a trained soldier and used to obeying commands. You’d cry your eyes out if you knew half of what that magnificent dog went through in Afghanistan. Did Gracie tell you he and two other military service K-nines got special medals from the president? Giz was the only one who got the Medal of Honor, though. He did, and the ceremony was held in the Rose Garden at the White House. I saw the video. I actually cried when I saw those three dogs salute the commander in chief. Alex would have been so proud of him. It was awesome. Really awesome.”
“No, she didn’t tell me about it, but I agree that dog is awesome. We haven’t talked much. Mostly it’s eye contact. I didn’t want Jake to get suspicious.”
“So, you’re really leaving? How will Jake manage tonight without you?”
“I guess we won’t know till tomorrow morning when Gracie reports in to you. I don’t have her cell phone number to call her, so if you want to give it to me, now is a good time.” Moose punched the numbers into his phone right after Beezer’s number, which was on his speed dial.
“Hold on, Beth. How’s Gracie going to get on the property tomorrow and into the house? She doesn’t have the code to the gate or a key to the house. That’s my bad. I should have thought of that.”
“Not to worry, I’ll call her tonight. Do you still keep a key under the light fixture by the back door?” Moose said he did. “Then no problem. What’s the code?” Moose rattled it off.
“So, how is Nashville treating you, kid?” Moose said, changing the subject.
“I love it! Just love it. I’m meant to be here, Moose. John loves it, too. He already has a gig and a job part-time as a waiter. Did you ever hear of a place called Rootie Tootie’s here in Nashville? It is the place to be seen, the hottest spot in all of Nashville. He plays there every night. It’s the place to be and be heard here in Nashville. Moose, I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my whole entire life. I’d be over the moon if Jake . . . never mind, no sense going there. It is what it is.”
“Nope, never heard of the place, but if you say it’s the place to be, then that’s good enough for me. Nice talking to you, Beezer. Don’t worry about anything here. Your gal has it going on, and that dog . . . well, like I said, don’t worry.”
“Okay, I won’t—worry that is. Oh, Moose, one more thing. Does Gracie know you’re on our side?”
Moose cackled again. “I think she does now.”
“I’ll call her later tonight and clue her in just to be on the safe side,” Beth said happily. “I can feel it, sense it, almost taste it, Moose. It’s all coming together just the way I planned. Listen, enjoy your stay at the Holiday Inn. And stop worrying about Jake. He’s a big boy, and big boys have to take responsibility for their actions. You know what you always say, Moose. Either you’re part of the problem or you’re part of the solution. And on that thought, I’m hanging up. Love you,” Beth said.
Moose watched the last of the water dripping into the carafe. His thoughts were far away as he fixed a tray for Gracie. He deliberately set one cup and one saucer on the tray with a pretty paper doily. He set a small plate with some of his homemade sugar cookies next to the cup. He cleaned and added two big carrot sticks and wrapped them in a wet paper towel for the dog. He looked at the tray and knew it was missing something. Something girly. With no flowers to be had at this time of year, Moose meandered out to the backyard and cut a few sprigs of holly and a small bouquet of evergreens that he tied with red butcher’s string and laid them across the tra
y. Now, that was more like it.
Moose eyed the tray and wondered if he could safely carry it down the long hall to the office without spilling or dropping it because of his arthritic hands. He shrugged and pulled out the serving cart and set the tray on top. Simple as one, two, three. He trundled down the hall, rapped softly on the door, then opened it and wheeled in the cart.
“Is this break time?” Jake asked nastily.
“For me, yes, for you, NO!” Gracie all but roared without taking her eyes off the computer screen.
“Where would you like me to set this up for you, Miz Sweet?”
“Anywhere is just fine. Oh, that coffee smells heavenly. This is just so sweet of you to make this coffee for me. Giz will appreciate the carrots later when he takes a break. And, please call me Gracie. Is it okay to call you Moose?”
“Absolutely, it’s okay to call me by my nickname; everyone else does. Sometimes I forget my name is Orville. I’m sorry we’re not going to get to know each other better. It’s like hello and good-bye all in one. Enjoy,” Moose said.
Moose looked over at Jake, his face sad. “I’m going to miss you, Jake. Good luck.”
“Knock it off, Moose. We go through this every other day. Where are you going to go? You don’t even have a home to go to. You need me, so cut the crap and bring me some coffee.”
“Good-bye, Jake,” Moose said, closing the door softly behind him.
“Aside from all your other bad faults, you really are an ugly person, you know that? No one should be spoken to like that. That man has taken care of you forever is what your sister told me. What will you do without him? Don’t expect any help from me. I bet you can’t even cook. How do you get in and out of the shower? I rest my case,” Gracie said as she sipped the delicious hazelnut coffee.
The silence in the room was total, so it was hard not to miss the sound of the coughing, sputtering pickup truck as it tore down the driveway.
“He’s just going to the market or the drugstore; he’ll be back in an hour or so after he calms down,” Jake said, ignoring Gracie’s other comments.
Gracie couldn’t resist a smart retort. “You wanna bet, Mr. Masters? A hundred bucks says he’s not coming back. Can’t say as I blame him. Personally, I find it depressing working with you. I can’t even begin to imagine what that poor man goes through coddling you like a baby. Have you looked at the man lately, really looked at him? He’s old. Old people deserve respect. And kindness. You should be taking care of him, not the other way around. Whiny puke,” she muttered under her breath just loud enough for Jake Masters to hear.
Jake ignored her and kept on reading whatever he was reading. Gracie only hoped he was retaining whatever it was.
The afternoon wore on. It seemed to Gracie that Jake and Gizmo both had their ears tuned to the outdoors and any sounds that might filter through. There was nothing to be heard but the wind slapping tree branches against the windows.
Gracie looked at her watch. It was 5:50. Ten minutes to quitting time. The afternoon had gotten away from her. Since she’d been so adamant about closing up shop at six o’clock, there was no time for a quiz, which meant she wasn’t going to be able to tell Jake about the hacking job or give him the details on Beth’s stalker. Tomorrow would be soon enough, she decided. Gracie whistled for Giz, who was at her side immediately. “Time to go home.”
Giz looked first at her, then at the man in the chair. “He’s on his own,” she said to Giz.
“I’m leaving now, Mr. Masters. I’ll go over the material with you in the morning.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll call the police when you leave?”
Tit for tat. “It’s your word against mine. Aren’t you afraid I’ll go to the Post and Courier and volunteer to do an interview with their star reporter? They might even pay me. Then again maybe not; you’re a has-been football player these days, so I doubt you’d generate all that much interest. I’d probably have to do the interview for free. I hate doing free things, but in your case, I’ll make an exception,” Gracie snapped coldly.
“I bet you take ugly pills every day to be this nasty, don’t you?” Jake barked, his eyes spewing sparks.
“Yep. The minute I got the skinny on what a whiny puke you are, I started taking them. I’ll see you in the morning. I hope you can ace the quiz. If not, we’re going to have a real serious problem. I want you to think about that all night long. From where I’m standing, your future looks pretty darn miserable but, then again, I think you actually thrive on misery. Good night, Mr. Masters.”
Jake Masters sat bug-eyed as he listened to the big dog’s paws on the new floor. He strained to hear the front door close and the snick of the lock sliding into place. He snorted as he realized one Miz Gracie Sweet would be unable to return in the morning without a key or the code to the gate. He didn’t know if he was elated or depressed at the thought. Whatever, Moose would let her in. Damn the man; it was six o’clock and he wasn’t back yet.
Worms of fear settled in Jake’s stomach. Moose never stayed away this long. He wondered if he’d had an accident in that crappy old truck he refused to give up. No, he decided, he would have heard by now.
Jake was antsy now as he wheeled his chair out of the office and down the hall to the back end of the house, where Moose had his apartment off the kitchen. He blinked when he saw the door to the apartment standing open. He wheeled himself to the doorway and stared inside at the immaculate room. He scooted through to the bedroom. It, too, was as tidy as the living room. The bed was made, and there was not a wrinkle in the spread to be seen. The closet door was wide open. It was empty. There wasn’t so much as a scrap of paper or a thread to be seen. He looked over at the dresser, where Moose kept a gallery of pictures of him and Beezer. They were gone.
Jake felt a frenzy of fear overtake him as he yanked at the dresser drawers, all empty. Maybe he missed something. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. The little apartment looked the same, like no one had ever lived there. He couldn’t even smell Moose’s Old Spice shaving cream.
Moose was gone.
Jake’s eyes burned as he wheeled himself out to the tidy kitchen. He looked around. By now there should have been something bubbling on the stove or baking in the oven. The table should have been set. He swung back around and looked in the refrigerator. There was food. Food that needed to be prepared and cooked. Well, that wasn’t going to happen since he didn’t know how to cook. He corrected the thought; he could boil eggs, but there weren’t any eggs in the fridge. He poked around, hoping to find something in a container that he would have to just heat up. Nada.
Everything in the freezer was frozen solid, and there were no leftovers, like spaghetti or soup, in containers. Jake banged his fist on the refrigerator door and wasn’t surprised to see that he’d made a dent. His next stop was the pantry, which was virtually empty. Moose believed in shopping daily and eating only fresh food. It took Jake just seconds to realize there was nothing in the pantry that he could sink his teeth into.
Takeout! Aha! He wouldn’t starve after all. He just needed to call someplace and ask them to deliver. . . . Then he remembered Moose telling him once they were two miles past the delivery routes. Scratch takeout.
Jake was seething now. How could Moose do this to him? He slumped in his chair. Being honest with himself, he knew how. Moose was fed up with him. Who could blame him, being tied to a cripple in a wheelchair. Sometimes, and this was one of those times, life just out and out sucked.
Jake pulled his cell phone out of one of the pockets on the chair. All he had to do was call Moose and apologize. Like he’d done so many times before. His finger hovered over the keys. This, he knew now, wasn’t like before. This was where the rubber met the road. Moose was done with him. The ache he felt made him almost physically sick. What the hell was he going to do without Moose? Especially now with that Nazi storm trooper calling the shots, not to mention that killer dog, who was just dying to sink his teeth into him.
Something pe
rverse in him made him tap in his sister’s phone number. For some reason he felt the need to talk to her, to hear her sweet voice encouraging him. The call went to voice mail. He hung up. He was so desperate to talk to someone, to rant and rave and whine and piss and moan that he was tempted to call Gracie Sweet. That thought flew in and out of his mind neutron swift. The Nazi, no matter how good-looking she was, was the last person he wanted to talk to. When, he wondered, did he decide she was pretty? Since he couldn’t remember making that decision, he decided Moose must have mentioned that he thought the young woman was pretty. Yeah, yeah, that would explain it, because most of the time she looked like an unholy devil, in his opinion.
Jake swore then, making up new curses as he went along, and made his way to the elevator that would take him to the second floor where his bedroom was located, along with his at-home theater.
Now that he was here, what was he going to do? Watch his old games on the big screen? He’d seen them all a kazillion times and knew each play by heart. Jake looked down at his legs and winced. Every sportscaster in the world had proclaimed him the best running back in the history of football. And look at him now. “Yeah,” he muttered to himself, “look at me now.”
Before he knew what he was doing, he yanked his laptop from one of the bags on the side of his chair and powered it up. He hit the Google button and typed in K-9 war heroes in South Carolina. Almost immediately, a full picture of Gracie Sweet’s dog filled the screen. Then he hit the arrow that would allow him to see the video in the Rose Garden at the White House. He sat staring, mesmerized at what he was seeing. He could feel his throat closing up as he watched the three magnificent animals parade in front of their commander in chief. He almost lost it when he saw all three animals offer up a salute, and the commander in chief snap one off that was just as impressive.
Jake watched the medal ceremony, then Giz and the president alone as the man presented the Medal of Honor to the dog. He watched each dog shake the president’s hand. The dogs fell back into line while the president took to the microphone to read aloud to the world what these three fine warriors had done for their country. He watched, tears rolling down his cheeks, when the first two dogs were joined by their handlers, followed by Gizmo, who walked alone because his handler hadn’t returned with him. He did lose it, then, when the marine band took over. He swiped at his eyes as, out of sight of the camera, a young woman dressed in a bright-flowered sundress stepped next to Gizmo and walked with him out of the garden where reporters gathered to interview the handlers. Gracie Sweet was standing in for Sergeant Alex Samson, Gizmo’s handler. A beautiful woman and a one-of-a-kind magnificent dog.
Perfect Match Page 10