Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 04 - Saddle Up Page 4

  Jordan squealed in delight. “You’ve got him, Liza!”

  Dad did the noble thing – he moved his king and let me take it.

  Jordan and I jumped up, danced around the table and high fived each other.

  “Okay,” Dad said. “That’s enough celebrating. Let’s eat lunch.”

  He fixed grilled Portobello sandwiches that were delicious. After lunch Dad cut the vegetables to make his sauce and Jordan and I went outside and sat on the back porch. For November, the weather was unusually warm. It was seventy-five degrees in my backyard according to my outdoor thermometer. There was a slight breeze and not a single cloud in the sky. Shelby and Fifi lay next to each other on the deck. I guess they settled their differences.

  Jordan leaned back in one of my cushioned Adirondack chairs, I took the other and we shared the footstool.

  “How is Sam really doing?” I asked.

  “Actually, very well,” Jordan sighed, then continued, “as long as he takes his medication and goes to counseling he stays very stable.”

  “Are you sure that you want to get involved with him again?”

  “I love him, Liza.” Jordan leaned back in the chair.

  “Our minds don’t choose the men we fall in love with, our hearts do,” I repeated one of my mom’s sayings.

  “She was right.”

  “Mom always was.” I leaned back in my chair.

  “She wouldn’t have liked Tom,” Jordan said.

  “I know. Her opinion of all law enforcement agents is burned into my brain.”

  Jordan laughed. “What did she used to say?”

  “Wear a badge, follow a rulebook and forget your common sense.”

  Jordan lifted my left hand. “And still you fell in love with a cop.”

  “And said yes to his marriage proposal.”

  “I guess I got my wish.”

  “What?”

  “You’re not perfect. You finally did something Mom would have considered wrong”.

  CHAPTER 4

  Later that evening we enjoyed a scrumptious meal. Jordan and I cleaned up without starting another water fight, then she scooped up Fifi and went into her bedroom to call Sam. Dad and I sat out on the back deck together. The night was cool, but the sky was clear and speckled with stars.

  I took a blanket from a container on the deck.

  “You want one, Dad?” I asked.

  “Nope, I’m fine. Wrap yourself up tight, Liza. It’s getting cooler by the minute out here.”

  “Don’t worry,” I told him. “I’ve got three more in this chest.”

  “You and your sister seem to be getting along. I haven’t had to be a referee once.”

  “She’s not as bad as she used to be.”

  “I’d say you’ve both grown up a bit,” Dad insisted, taking a sip from his Coke.

  Jordan came out and handed me my cell phone. Shelby trotted behind her, since Fifi was in her hand but came and sat down next to me when I took the phone.

  “It’s Tom.”

  Dad linked his arm around Jordan’s shoulder and they walked into the house together. Those two were the only ones left of my family. My family – those words meant so much to me, especially after four years without my dad. And I would never give them up, not for anything or anyone in the world.

  I glanced at the phone and my heart felt like a fissure had cracked through it and tears slid down my cheeks.

  “Liza?” I heard Tom’s voice.

  I wiped the tears from my cheeks, took a deep breath, and said, “Hello, Tom.”

  “There you are,” he said.

  “I’m here.” I leaned my head against the back of the Adirondack chair.

  “I had a nice conversation with your sister.”

  “You two would have a lot in common,” I told him.

  “It’s more than that. She was friendly. I was surprised after your description of her.”

  “She’s changed a bit. We’ve had a nice visit.”

  “Where did you go for dinner?” he asked.

  “We cooked.” Was that lie number one or two? I shifted my weight in the chair. I don’t like lying to anyone.

  “What?” Tom’s voice elevated.

  “Yeah, we made one of my mom’s recipes.” That was definitely lie number three.

  “Really?’

  “It was the tradition in my family to make a vegetable red sauce over noodles on Thanksgiving, so that’s what we ate for dinner.”

  “That’s wonderful, Liza. I’m glad you’re having a good visit with your sister.”

  “How was your training today?” I asked, needing to change the subject before I would have to tell lie number four.

  “Boring. I could shoot better, clean my gun faster, and hit the target more times than the instructor.”

  “Then why’d you go?” I asked.

  “It’s a requirement, like when you have a staff development day and don’t get a thing out of it.”

  “I usually get one thing.”

  Tom laughed. “And that would be getting to go out to lunch, right?”

  “Yes. We never have time to go out during a regular school day.”

  I glanced at my watch; it was almost ten-thirty and Tom usually was in bed by nine since he got up at five. “How come you called so late?”

  “I got in late from the training and wasn’t going to call, but I was lying in bed missing you and I knew you’d be up.”

  I closed my eyes as more tears fell, then said truthfully, “I miss you too, Tom.”

  “Are you okay, Liza?” he asked.

  I wiped the tears away, again.

  “I’m fine, Tom.”

  Was that lie number four or five? I needed to stop keeping track or it would make me crazy.

  “Are you sitting on your back porch?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How many blankets?”

  “Just one.”

  “I wish I were there with you. I’d sit down and let you lean on my chest, then wrap my arms around you, like I did on the balcony on the cruise.”

  The tears started again. This was getting ridiculous! Too many tears!

  “Liza?” Tom asked.

  “I’m here. I wish you were here, too.”

  “I’ll be there in a few days,” he said.

  And I thought and Dad will be gone. The two most important men in my life were two ships that passed in the night. I was like the lone lighthouse with only one slip in my dock.

  “Good night, honey.”

  “Goodnight Tom.”

  The line went dead and I clutched the phone against my chest. It felt like my dad and Tom each had a hold on my heart and, even though they weren’t doing it on purpose, they were each slowly pulling it apart. This situation wouldn’t end well and I knew it. Shelby put her head on my lap and licked my hand.

  “Thanks girl,” I murmured.

  When a few minutes later I put the blanket away and went inside, both Dad’s and Jordan’s doors were closed. It was almost eleven, so I went to bed but slept badly. I couldn’t get comfortable; I tossed and turned all night. In the morning, since I had two bad nights in a row, there were large black rings under my eyes. I took a quick shower, hoping that it would help, and then dressed in blue jeans and my favorite Tinkerbell t-shirt. I even added a little makeup.

  I found Dad and Jordan at the kitchen table drinking coffee. Dad wore a pair of tan shorts and a Hawaiian shirt covered in brightly colored parrots and Jordan wore Guess blue jeans, a white tailored shirt, and a doubled breasted, long sleeved jacket with quite a nautical flair. She looked as if she was dressed for a photo shoot.

  Dad got up, wrapped his arms around me and hugged me.

  When he let go, he said, “I’m sorry this situation is unsettling you.”

  “I’m fine, Dad. What did you make for breakfast?”

  “Nothing, I’m taking us out,” Jordan said.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I have just enough time to eat breakfast and the
n come back here, pick up Fifi, and make it to the airport. But we’ve got to get going. I thought you’d never get out of bed.”

  The clock in the kitchen range said 6:45. Some things never change.

  “Dad, is it okay for you to be seen with us?” I asked.

  “I don’t think the FBI will be out looking for me at the local Denny’s,” he said.

  “She may be right, Dad,” Jordan said. “We find people in the craziest places. They sit down to have a meal or grab an item at a store and someone spots them. The next thing you know, the Feds slap the handcuffs on them. Maybe we should just stay here.”

  “Nope, we can go out.” Dad went into his bedroom.

  I looked at Jordan and asked, “Now what?”

  She put up her hands to indicate that she didn’t have a clue.

  A few minutes later, Dad came out. But he didn’t look like Dad. He had a full head of black hair, stylish wire-rimmed glasses, and had changed into a pair of tan slacks and a white shirt.

  “You look like a salesman,” Jordan said.

  “Great, as long as I don’t look like your dad. We’ll be fine.” He put his arm around my shoulder. “I can be Liza’s new boyfriend she’s introducing to you, if anyone asks.”

  “You’re too old to be my boyfriend,” I told him.

  “We’ll tell them that I like them young and you have no other prospects, if anyone asks.”

  I held up my left hand and wiggled my fingers at him.

  “That cop doesn’t count,” he said.

  Jordan drove us in her bright red convertible Mustang rental car to Denny’s a few blocks from my house. Jordan and I ordered the Grand Slam Breakfast – 2 eggs, 2 pancakes, 2 pieces of bacon and 2 sausages – enough food to feed an entire family. Dad had a vegetarian omelet made with egg substitute.

  “Remember when we ordered this in Hawaii?” Jordan said between bites of pancakes.

  “I remember. It wasn’t $2.99,” Dad remarked.

  “Yep, we spent the rest of the vacation saying, ‘$6.99? Are you out of your mind!” I added.

  We all laughed.

  “Dad told me about the clowns and the eating contests, Liza. That was really cool the way you caught the bad guys.”

  “Thanks Jordan,” I said.

  “Both of you girls like to see justice done,” my dad said. His face showed the pride he felt for both of us.

  “You have any new cases on the horizon?” Jordan asked.

  I hesitated. I never shared my cases with anyone but Justin in the beginning. Maybe it was time to change things. But since Tom was there during the last cases, shouldn’t it be him I should be sharing with first and not my dad and sister?

  “Never mind, if you don’t want to tell us,” Jordan said, obviously noticing my hesitation.

  “It’s not that. It’s just that – it is a little different this time.”

  “How?” Dad asked.

  I told them about the message slip I got at the Texas hotel and what the recording said.

  “Dial it and let us hear,” Jordan said.

  I had called it so often the number and code were memorized, so I placed my phone on speaker and set it in the middle of the table.

  The usual voice came on, I entered the code, and the same recording played.

  “That’s weird,” Jordan said.

  “It doesn’t tell you where or who, but just when,” my dad added.

  “How are you supposed to stop it if you don’t know the answers to those other questions?” Jordan asked.

  “Was Justin able to find anything on the Internet for you?” Dad took a sip of his coffee.

  I explained all the information Justin learned about rodeos.

  “But nothing specific about a rodeo family in trouble?” Dad asked.

  “Nope. There is a rodeo near the date, so I hope the message has something to do with that town.”

  “Which town?”

  “Oakdale.”

  “I doubt it has anything to do with a specific rodeo,” Dad said.

  “Why?”

  “If the murders were going to happen in conjunction with the Oakdale rodeo wouldn’t the recording say so? It has to be more obscure than that.”

  “Oh great,” I said, frustration making my voice elevate in tone and pitch. “That doesn’t help at all. In fact, it makes it worse.”

  “Maybe not.” Dad put his hands out in an effort to calm me back down. “Where is the rodeo before Oakdale’s?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll have to ask Justin.”

  “You’ve never gotten any update to the recording?” Jordan asked.

  “No.”

  “Who do you think sent you this message?” Jordan took a bite of her pancakes smothered in strawberry syrup.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know who sent the last three either. But this one feels different.”

  “Because it’s about an event that will happen in the future,” Jordan suggested.

  “I suppose so. The earlier dates were associated with cold cases like the ten year old kidnapping and the kindergarten teacher’s murder.”

  “And the last one?”

  “Since Dad insists that it wasn’t him, the more I mull it over, the more I think that the professional killers, Emily and Jack, sent the emails with the picture of Mom and Dad on the cruise.”

  “They wanted to draw you out so they could find the picture your mom took of them.” Dad put in, then took another bite of his omelet.

  “I think so. They thought you and Mom were dead and the last detail was that picture of them with the rest of your cruising friends.”

  “They could have just come into your house and found the picture,” Jordan said.

  “They didn’t know who had the picture, or if it even existed. The only way to draw it out was to get me involved.”

  “Could they have had something to do with the first two cases, too?” Dad asked.

  “I don’t know, but I doubt it. If something had happened to me in either of those cases where I investigated the child’s kidnapping or the teacher’s murder, they’d have never gotten the picture.”

  “Actually that might have been exactly what they hoped for,” Jordan suggested. “If you were killed then all of your personal items like pictures and jewelry would have come to me and then everything from Mom and Dad would have been in one place. They could ransack my house, my office, and if it wasn’t there, it wasn’t anywhere.”

  The thought that two professional killers might have orchestrated those events in my life was a little frightening. I had thought I was in control, but had I been?

  “Well, we don’t have to worry about them now, they’re both in jail,” Dad said.

  “That’s true.” Jordan reached over and patted my arm. “Thanks to my super detective sister.”

  “I had help,” I told her.

  “I know. Dad told me all about it, but if it hadn’t been for you, they’d still be killing people.”

  We finished our breakfast and Jordan drove us back to my house. She put Fifi into her crate and we loaded her carryon case into her car.

  She gave me a big hug. “I’ll call you when I land.”

  “It was nice to see you Jordan,” I said, and actually meant it.

  “Me, too, Sis.”

  I watched her drive away. When I went into the house, Dad sat at the kitchen table playing solitaire. He said, “Want to play Slap?”

  “You know that game gives me a heart attack,” I reminded him.

  “Come on, Bobby. Give it a try. It’s just me.”

  I sighed and sat down while Dad dealt the cards. In Slap you play regular solitaire but share the aces piles. It is always a race to get your card onto the piles first. All that slapping makes me crazy, I usually just sit back and let the other people fight it out.

  We played several hands and I even got a few cards into the top piles before Dad. When I reached my limit of slapping cards, Dad fixed us a grilled eggplant sandwich for lunch.

  “Let
’s have a couch potato afternoon, Liza,” Dad said. “Got any DVDs we can watch?”

  “Sure, which one?”

  “You still got the dinosaur movies?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good, I like the way the dinosaurs get revenge on the people.”

  “But the dinosaurs always get killed in the movies,” I reminded him.

  “Sure, some of them do, but in the end the dinosaurs get the island and the people have to leave.”

  I rolled my eyes and inserted the first Jurassic Park movie.

  We watched the movie and Dad rooted for the dinosaurs, booed when they got killed, and laughed at the end when the people all ran away. They weren’t my favorite movies, but I enjoyed spending the time with my Dad. When the second movie was finished, Dad made some fresh spaetzle and re-heated the sauce from the night before. It was even better the second time, since the vegetables had time to soak up the garlic, onion, and spices. After dinner, we watched the third movie in the series and then the Godzilla movie, my favorite.

  Afterwards, Dad said, “I’m headed to bed. I’ll make waffles in the morning.”

  “Yum,” I said.

  I turned in myself, tired from sleeping poorly the two nights before.

  Shelby jumped up on my bed. I petted her and then buried myself under a mound of covers.

  I fell asleep quickly and soundly.

  Sometime later I woke up when Shelby barked and Tom’s loud voice yelled at her to stop.

  Oh my God! My dad is still here!

  CHAPTER 5

  “Shelby, no!” I heard Tom shout, an edge to his voice I’d never heard before.

  I jumped out of bed and ran down the hallway.

  Tom was dressed in his usual attire, blue jeans and a patriotic shirt – this one sporting an American flag and the words “God bless the USA.” He had his back slammed against the door, his eyes wide with surprise mixed with apprehension and a little fear. Shelby stood in front of him and emitted a low guttural growl that I had never heard before, either. She wouldn’t let him pass.

  “What’s the matter with her?” Tom yelled at me.

  “Shelby!”

  The dog snapped her head toward me.

  “Get over here,” I demanded.