Dressed in White

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Dressed in White Page 14

by Diana Stone


  So that’s done. I’ve said no to the ranch. Now I’ll see where the road takes me.

  26

  Not Again

  I can always board my girls at a stable and rent a room. I’m fine, financially, as long as I keep working.

  Nikki and I text briefly, and I let her know I’ll shop for dinner. Since we’re bumming a room, we need to pay our way with services. So I swing by the market and pick up lettuce and ground turkey for lettuce wraps. It’s not that I’m in love with them, it’s that I know how to make them, and they were well received by Quinn. They passed the test.

  I pull in the market. It’s in Santa Ynez, on the main road by the Casino. I’ve lived here for months now, so I feel like a local, so I can tell who doesn’t belong. Visitors look wide-eyed and get excited over our usual things.

  I rarely stop in the beauty aisle, but I’m out of conditioner. My hair flies away and tangles without moisture. I’m looking for something inexpensive. Let’s see…

  “Psst. Psst,” someone is whispering to me.

  Oh great—it’s that platinum blond, Tony’s girlfriend. What’s she doing here?

  She steps closer, her eyes darting up the aisle. “Remember me, I’m Nicole. We were at the casino.”

  “Sure I remember. How’s everything?” A simple answer when I know everyone is looking for them.

  “Not good.” She comes closer, hunched over with a baseball cap shoved down on her head, and her hair tucked up. She’s in baggy jeans, and a black, oversized jacket—obviously not her own clothes.

  I keep a bland expression and wait for her to elaborate.

  “I’m sorry, what’s your name again?”

  “Jessica.”

  “We have a big problem. Some bad people are after us. You were so nice in the casino—do you know anywhere we can hide?”

  Oh boy. I don’t want to be seen with her. That’s why the goons followed me home, because they thought I knew where they were.

  I stop looking at the hair conditioner, take a step away, and advise her. “Those men followed me home, and were going to do something terrible before killing my friend and me. I don’t want to be seen with you.”

  “I’m sorry, I had no idea! But I have to get away from Tony. I don’t want to die because of his gambling.”

  “I’m not getting involved.”

  “Please! I was going to color my hair in the bathroom. Can you help get me away from here?”

  She looks so fearful. She’s pleading. How can I heartlessly walk away?

  “Where is Tony?” I don’t see him.

  “Out back, by the dumpsters.”

  “Are you trying to get away from him?”

  “No. I’m trying to stay alive. They’re trying to kill him. They’ll kill me too, unless I can to get home and sell some investments.”

  “I nearly died because of talking with you, I don’t want to get involved,” I step back.

  “Please,” she jumps forward and clings to my arm. “Please help me,” her voice is panicked.

  It’s easy to see, its real fear. She smells unwashed, she looks haggard, and her face is gaunt and without makeup. She was nice to me in the casino. She isn’t a nasty woman. If I leave her, she could die.

  I take a breath, “Fine. Buy your dye. I have to pick up some things, so give me a few minutes. When I’m in my truck, come out and get in. I’ll figure out where to take you.” Boy, I hope this isn’t a mistake.

  She looks like I just saved her life. “Thank you!”

  I’ve lost interest in the conditioner, but I have to get tonight’s dinner. My mind is scrambling for normalcy. I hurry down the produce aisle for lettuce and tomatoes, then to the meat section, and pull off a pack of almonds hanging on the end of a row. Finally, blue cheese rounds out my list. I don’t even know if this goes together to make a cohesive meal. My mind isn’t focusing on food. It’s in flight mode.

  While waiting to pay, I’m looking for anything suspicious. I don’t see her, neither do I see anyone who doesn’t belong—like anyone deadly, or creepy looking. Outside, I don’t see black limos, or angry men. I take the long way to the truck. The lot looks completely normal, with the usual flow of people and traffic.

  I get to the truck, unlock the doors, start the engine, and wait. But not without wondering if I’ve lost my mind. I don’t feel good leaving her to be attacked by more angry men. But…

  She sneaks up. In the passenger mirror, I see her hunched down, alongside the truck. The door opens and she slides in and closes it. She squeezes onto the floor.

  I click the doors locked and back out of the space. I don’t know which way to go, so I’m driving slowly.

  “Thank you.”

  “Is Tony waiting for you to come back?”

  “No, I went out and told him I was getting help. I didn’t want him to worry, but I have to get away.”

  “Did you tell him you were going with me?!”

  “Of course not. I’m not dumb. I told him I found someone to help me.” She stops to reconsider. “Ok, so, I am dumb, but not that dumb.”

  I don’t see anyone following. “Where do you want to go that’s close?”

  “I don’t have anyone to call, and I don’t have money.”

  Oh, that means she stole the dye? That’s great. Now I’m the unsuspecting getaway driver.

  “Can you take me home? I’m not the problem, Tony is the one.”

  “I don’t have a home. I’m staying with someone. The ranch is empty, but the police are all over it, looking for clues.”

  I’m not taking her to Monica’s. In fact, I question why I am taking her anywhere.

  “Can you find somewhere I can hide? I need to make some calls, but my phone is gone.”

  “I’ll take you to the ranch where the men were going to kill us. Before you wonder about my sanity, my boyfriend shot them when they pulled out their knives.”

  As I glace down to see her reaction, she looks up. “Oh. You’re taking me there?”

  “There’s nowhere else. You can stay in the barn. There’s a bathroom, a cot, and fridge. Is there someone I can call to come and get you?”

  “Thank you, but no. I don’t have anyone. I’d get a ride, but I don’t have it set up with a Visa card. I thought Tony was a great catch. It turns out he has a big problem.”

  “Do you know he’s married?”

  “Yes. His wife is a nasty woman, she is spending all his money. He’s going to divorce her as soon as we get back to Napa. He said he made a mistake marrying her, but he loves me, and wants to spend his life with me.”

  Oh dear. I think he adjusted his story. Should I say something, or stay out of it?

  I can’t sit here and not tell her. I’ll word it carefully.

  “I would check his story. His wife may not really be like that. It may be her money.”

  She’s silent a sec. “I don’t think so. He inherited it from his parents.”

  “What did they do?”

  “They had a string of oil change shops across the country. They made a fortune and left it to him when they passed.”

  I guess a Google search will tell me if that’s true.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely, positively.”

  Could Alyssa be wrong about her friend having money? Maybe it’s Tony’s.

  “What did he say when you said you were leaving?”

  “He looked surprised that I’d leave him. It may put a crimp in our marriage plans. But he may not make it, and I don’t want to die too.”

  “Do you know why someone wants him, or you, dead?”

  “Yes, he finally told me—he owes half a million dollars to a dangerous man. He got a business loan and can’t repay it. His inheritance is tied up. He only gets $10,000 a month, and that’s hardly enough to live on. I don’t know what his parents were thinking. His attorney is trying to break the trust to access more money.”

  I’m silent as we leave town. Someone is lying. And since when is 10K a month hardly e
nough to live on? Not in my world.

  I’d like to know before I get too deep—like I’m not deep. Well, I’d like to know if some of it is true. I’m on the road to Los Olivos. I’m keeping to the more populated streets. I pull over and take out my phone.

  “What’s his last name, and his parents, and the name of the oil change places?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Finding out if he’s lying to you a little, or a lot.”

  I punch in her info, and lo-and-behold… There is a Tony Stanton who is the son of Ed and Sylvia Stanton who founded Ten Minute Oil Change. There’s a lot about the family, including their son Tony. I scroll and find info about his wife, Melani. She also has money—a boat-load of it.

  “Alright. It looks like he’s telling the truth. I don’t feel right leaving him behind the market.”

  “Neither do I, but he told me to save myself, that he would find a way home.”

  “It doesn’t make sense that a rich man can’t get home,” I muse.

  “His money is tied up. He can’t get 500K. He can only get 10 grand a month.”

  “Why doesn’t he ask his wife? She has the money.”

  “She won’t give it to him. He begged her. That’s why he’s leaving her; she won’t even try to save his life.”

  “Yeah, well I’d have problems giving $500,000 to a man who gambled it away.”

  We’re now at the corner of Highway 245 and Edison. I’ve been watching my mirrors. I don’t see anyone tailing us. I make the turn.

  There is no one following us. I even stop and wait a few minutes. She’s quiet, crouched on the floor, resting her head on the seat cushion.

  I proceed down our driveway and to the barn. No one is here, and the crime scene tape has been removed.

  “We’re here. You can get up.” I turn off the engine and get out.

  She is struggling to get circulation back in her legs. “Thank you,” she says as she looks around. “It’s nice out here.”

  It was—before we got terrorized. I don’t say that. There’s no need to keep badmouthing them, but here I am letting myself get dragged back in.

  “Alright, who can I call to get you out of here?”

  “Tony told me his friend’s number. I memorized it.”

  I pull out my phone with my finger hovering over the face. She tells me, and I press the green button.

  It’s the law firm of James Matheson. He answers. I hand her the phone.

  After fifteen minutes of intense conversation, he’ll send a ride for her. He’s crazy-pissed off that we didn’t bring Tony to safety as well.

  “Jim, she’s doing me a favor. Maybe we can get the driver to take me to the market and I’ll look for him?” she’s quiet, listening. “Yes, thanks. Thanks very much.” She hands it back to me to give him my address here.

  “He’ll rent a driver for us, then I’ll go look for Tony.”

  “You should get your hair done first.”

  “Good idea. Is there a sink?” She looks around, like she’s hoping to find one.

  “Yes, follow me,” I lead the way into the barn, and to the bathroom. “I’m leaving now. Good luck.”

  “Thank you for taking a chance—and I’m sorry they followed you home!”

  “You’re welcome. Take care,” and with that, I return to my truck and drive away.

  27

  Fun at Monica’s

  I park at the end of the driveway for a few minutes. No black limos with tinted windows cruise past. So I head to Monica’s.

  My phone rings: It’s Quinn. “Hi Quinn!”

  “Hi beautiful. Don’t take this wrong, but what the hell are you doing at the ranch this evening? You were there this morning.”

  “You won’t like it.” I’m glad he’s monitoring my activities, just in case I need help.

  “When you start off like that, I’m sure I won’t”

  “I went to the market for food for a nice dinner tonight with the four of us at Monica’s. When I was in the hair care aisle, guess who was there? That woman with Tony.” I pull the phone from my ear… he’s shouting. “She was terrified and looking for black hair dye. She begged me to get her out of there.” I stop, but he’s silent. “I couldn’t just leave her. So I brought her to the ranch, after many stops and a couple double backs.”

  “You’re kind hearted, but not too bright.”

  There’s something about the way he says it—it doesn’t ruffle my feathers. Any other man, and I’d be defensive.

  “Fine, but you wouldn’t leave her either. She was so upset in the market. Tony was outside in the back. You’ll be pleased to know I didn’t suggest bringing him too.”

  “I’ve been away for three days, and you’re not staying out of trouble. What am I going to do with you?”

  “Make wild love to me?” Whoa, where did that come from?

  “Yeah, that’ll work.” He stops for a moment. “Things are going well up here, I’ll be back a few days early. Are you alright with that?”

  “Alright? I’m thrilled!” I show great enthusiasm. See—I learned that from my ex-husband.

  “How’s it going at Monica’s?”

  “It’s fun, like summer camp. I love it there. I’m not looking forward to leaving. I haven’t figured out that part yet.”

  “Which part?” I hear noises in the background, he sounds distracted.

  “The moving out part.”

  “Don’t make any rash decisions. Maybe we can figure out something. And stay away from the ranch!”

  “Fine, I’ll try—to stay away from the ranch.”

  “You!” He says with a smile.

  “You too,” I reply in a soft tone.

  “I’ll call you when I can, and I’ll let you know as soon as I’m through up here.”

  “Thanks and take care. I’m sure you’re not immortal.”

  “Thanks. Talk to you soon.”

  That was a nice way to drive home. I pull up to the curb. No one is home. Hmm, I wish they were. It’s not that I’m afraid, but I like the camaraderie.

  I unlock and open the door. The first thing I see is both cats sleeping on the back of the couch. Ok, I know everything is fine. Cami would be hiding under the bed if someone was ransacking the place, or waiting to grab me.

  I put my .45 in the hiding place and start dinner prep. At 7:45 I get 3 texts: one from Nikki, Charlie, and Monica… they’re heading home from the bakery, and looking forward to dinner.

  The table is set, fun music is softly playing, and I’ve even pulled out a bottle of a crisp Chardonnay. This one has less time in oak, so it's crisper, but it has enough mouth feel to hold its own against the spices in the turkey.

  I hear Charlie’s and Nikki’s diesel trucks pull up. I unlock the door and go outside to welcome my friends and help carry things.

  I’m handed a plastic container with pastry. Another with hard things rolling around inside. I resist lifting the lid to check, but I bet they’re liqueur filled chocolates. Wow, this really is the place to be!

  Within ten minutes, we’re seated and served at the table. My lettuce boats look great. We toast to a good day and settle down to talk.

  I’m having a blast listening to Monica describing a new recipe for the upcoming class. Nikki has me laughing over her struggles with a website, and Charlie… he’s just neat to listen to. I’d love to drive around with him on his calls.

  “Sure, I’d love your company. You’re welcome anytime.” He smiles. “What did you do today?”

  Oh. I hadn’t planned on telling them about my encounter with the platinum blond. My hesitation grabs their attention.

  “What happened?” Nikki prods.

  “Well, I went to the market and…” I tell them the story. I also include that part where Quinn may be back sooner than he thought.

  “I tell you, I’ll feel better with him around.” That comes from Monica. “I will always appreciate him for saving me from the gunfire at the bakery. He is a hero in my book.”

&
nbsp; “He saved me twice, in that house.” Nikki comments.

  “He saved me from those enforcers, and I kind of like him too.” I softly smile.

  “I think we can tell.” Says Monica.

  The rest of the evening unfolds like it would with good friends when we were kids on summer vacation. I don’t have a long drive home, so I can have a second glass of wine, and a second pastry too!

  The background music is soft enough we don’t have to shout, but it’s there between conversations. I’m having such a nice time. This is perfect. I don’t want to leave. I want this to go on forever.

  Two hours later, Monica and Charlie are headed for bed. Nikki and I clean up the kitchen.

  “How did it feel at the ranch today?” she asks.

  “I didn’t like it. But it’s nothing to do with the place. The police have gone. It’s so empty. The horses are there by themselves, out in pasture. They’re happy, they have each other.” I perk up, “But I love it here.”

  “I know—so do I. I wish I could stay.”

  “I wonder how they feel about us being here.”

  “I think they like it, but it’s only been two days. We have to be reasonable.”

  “They’re just newly married, but they don’t seem to mind.”

  “I’ll see about getting out of their hair soon. Then maybe you can stay longer,” I volunteer.

  “Thank you. I have no idea what to do. No parents, no husband. Just me.”

  “Oh dear, don’t get upset, stay happy! I’m sure it will work out. You have freedom. You need to explore your options.”

  I hope she thinks that sounds nice.

  “Maybe you can help out at the bakery, even if you don’t get paid. You’ll be around people and it will give you a chance to talk to everyone,” I suggest.

  “That’s a great idea. I can talk all day, and it won’t be on Monica’s dime,” she sounds excited. “Thanks, Jess.”

  “You’re welcome.” I put the final plate away, “I’m going to hit the sack.”

  “Me too. I have an early day at the bakery, talking to customers!” She heads for the bathroom with a smile.

  I’m glad that worked out. Hopefully it’s alright with Monica.

 

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