The Chase (18 page)

“I’ll take your word for it,” Joe said, grinning broadly. “Do you live around here?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I didn’t catch your name.”

“Zelda.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Zelda.” He pointed to her bottle. “Can I buy you another one?”

Zelda thought about it for a minute. She was already on her third, and the room was starting to spin a little.

“Sure.” She drained the bottle. What the hell difference did it make? She didn’t have anything else to do.

Joe waved at Sissy. “Would you bring Zelda another cold one, please?”

“You bet.” Sissy grabbed Zelda’s empty bottle.

He twisted his stool to face her. “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting all alone at the bar like this?”

“I ain’t waiting for Prince Charming, if that’s what you think.”

Joe dangled his arm around the back of her bar stool. “That’s good to hear, Zelda, because I’m no Prince Charming.”

He took a sip of his beer, then set it back on the counter next to her bottle. “Hey, I think your cell phone’s ringing.” He pointed towards her cell phone.

Zelda grabbed the phone off the bar. “Hello?”

“Hey, babe, this is the third time I’ve called you. Why didn’t you answer before?”

She turned her stool so her back was to Joe. “Hey. I guess I didn’t hear it ring. I’m still not used to this thing.”

The phone was silent for a moment, then Earl said, “Yeah, all right. But I want to be able to get you on the phone when I need to talk to you, so put it on vibrate or something, okay?”

Zelda smiled and lowered her voice. “If you stay away too much longer, I’m going to have to put it on vibrate and use it for something else.”

Earl’s deep laugh rumbled through the phone. “Babe, that sounds like something we should try together.”

“I miss you so much.”

“Yeah, I miss you, too. Where the hell are you, anyway?”

“I’m sitting in Thirsty’s having a cold one and shooting the shit with Sissy.”

“Can she hear you?”

“Nah, she’s way down at the other end of the bar.” She glanced over her shoulder at Joe as she slid off the bar stool. “But I’m going to walk outside, where no one else can hear me.”

“All right. We’ve had some developments.”

“Good or bad?” she asked as she pushed open the door.

“Good.”

“Tell me.”

“I’ve got the perfect place.”

“For the hideout?”

“Yup.”

“What’s it like?”

“You’ll find out when you see it. Just trust me; it couldn’t be any better.”

“You know I trust you.” Zelda leaned against the hood of a pickup truck. “What else is going on? Any news about Cummings?”

“He’s home.”

“
What?”

“Yup, came home this afternoon. He’s still a weak puppy, but he checked himself out of the hospital.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Nothing tonight. He’s got more guards at his place than they have at Fort Knox.”

“You ain’t going to let up on him, are you? If this is going to work, you’ve got to keep the pressure on. Let him know we mean business.”

“Relax, I’ve got things under control. The pressure is on. The reason Cummings came home from the hospital is because he was freaked out about the deer.”

Zelda smiled. “Really? How do you know that?”

“The riding camp instructor. Turns out, she’s even better friends with Cummings’s wife than we thought she was.”

“Are you making friends with her?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Tell me about her.”

“I already told you, she’s friends with Doug and Anne Cummings and she teaches the riding camp that Cummings’s kid goes to.”

“What does she look like?”

“Aw, come on, Zelda. What does it matter what she looks like?”

She didn’t answer. He knew why it mattered.

Earl sighed loudly. “Don’t worry, babe, she doesn’t float my boat. She’s a scrawny thing, with no boobs, and a snobby attitude.”

A car pulled into the parking space next to her, country music blaring from the stereo, and Zelda walked farther down the parking lot. “Good, because I think you should get to know her better. It sounds like she might be able to give us valuable information.”

“Yeah, I already figured that. She’s key. Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you soon. Just hang in there, babe. This thing is going to come off just like we planned.”

“All right. Dream about me tonight.”

Zelda lit a cigarette, no longer interested in going back inside and sharing a couple of cold ones with Joe. The passenger door to the car with the country music opened, and two guys got out and slammed the door.

“Hang loose, Larry. We’ll catch you later,” one of the guys said, leaning down and looking at the driver through the open window.

The driver shifted in his seat to look backwards, and Zelda saw the taillights brighten as he put the car in reverse. She hurried over to the car and pounded on the hood just as the car was starting to roll out of the parking space.

The driver slammed on the brakes and glared at her. “Hey, what’s with you, banging on my car?”

Zelda walked to the passenger door and leaned on the open window, making sure to bend low so he could see her cleavage. “Sorry, I was just trying to get your attention. I saw you was leaving, and I was wondering if you might be able to give me a ride.”

He eyed her chest. “Where are you going to?”

“Just down the road a bit. I promise, it won’t take you but a couple of minutes out of your way.”

He reached over and flipped the door handle. “Hop in.”

N
o matter how Kendall looked at it, the numbers just didn’t add up. Even though she was working off Wellington’s boarding fee, her monthly expenses for his shoeing and medical costs were at least two hundred dollars. Plus, even if she just showed on the local circuit, she’d have to shell out another couple hundred a month in entry fees and trailering. Rent for the cottage was twelve hundred a month, and she had to pay utilities, car insurance, gas…. The list went on and on.

She read the letter from the health insurance provider again. There was a thirty-day grace period where she was still covered under Peter’s policy; after that, she had to apply for individual coverage, which could cost her up to five hundred dollars a month.

Kendall picked up her checkbook and thumbed through the register until she found her balance. Twenty-two hundred forty-eight dollars. At the rate she was going, that would barely last her a month. She never should have splurged the way she had on Anne’s baby shower.

“Shit.” She dropped the checkbook on the kitchen table and rested her head on her arms.
What was she going to do?

Maybe her attorney had been right when he’d advised her to fight for alimony. But she hadn’t wanted Peter’s money. She’d just wanted out of the marriage. The only marital property she’d demanded was Wellington. And she’d had to fight Peter tooth and nail to get him.

A wave of panic washed over her.
How was she going to make ends meet?
Certainly not by working eight hours a day teaching camp at Fox Run just to pay for Wellington’s board. But she didn’t have a career to fall back on; she’d never even graduated from college. She had no assets to speak of, except for Wellington. And selling him was out of the question. Wellington was the closest thing to family she had.

The shrill ring of the phone made Kendall jump, and she lifted her head and pushed her hair out of her face as she reached for the handset. She glanced at the caller-ID display.
Wireless caller
. That hardly narrowed it down.

She picked up the phone. “Hello.”

“Hi, Kendall, this is Stephen Lloyd. We met yesterday at Fox Run.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Margaret gave me your phone number; I hope that’s all right.”

“Of course, no problem.”

“Listen, I was wondering if I could take you to dinner.”

Kendall glanced down at the tank top and running shorts she’d donned after her shower. “Tonight?”

Stephen chuckled. “Sure, I’m game if you’re available. But I had planned on giving you a little more notice than that. I was calling about tomorrow night.”

When she didn’t respond, he said, “I was thinking of trying that pub in Upperville. Hunter’s Head. I’ve heard great things about it.”

“Um, let me check my calendar.”
What should she do?
She didn’t want to go on a date with Stephen, or anyone else for that matter.

She flipped through the pages of the calendar, making sure he could hear her. “Oh, darn, we have a field trip tomorrow after camp. I’m taking the kids to walk the beagles.”

“That sounds like fun. What time will you get back?”

“Not until late. Probably seven o’clock, maybe later.”

“I don’t mind eating late. How about if I pick you up at eight?”

Kendall took a deep breath. “Stephen, I really appreciate the invitation, but I’m recently divorced and I’m not dating yet.”

There was a moment’s silence. “I see. I’m sorry if I offended you by asking. Margaret gave me a different impression.”

“No offense taken. I think Margaret is trying to play matchmaker for me, but I’m not ready for that yet.”

“I understand. I’ve been there myself. Listen, how about if we grab a bite to eat at the pub tomorrow anyway? Just as friends. Don’t get me wrong, but this is a hard community to break into. I think I’ve eaten alone at every restaurant in Middleburg, and I’m starting to get a complex.”

Kendall smiled. “I know what you mean. I hate to eat alone in a restaurant.”

“Does that mean you’ll join me?”

She hesitated. What could it hurt? He seemed like a nice-enough guy, and she could certainly relate to his loneliness.

“Sure, why not? I’ll meet you there.”

“Terrific. I’ll see you around eight.”

Kendall put the receiver back on the cradle.
I hope I won’t live to regret that decision
, she thought. She rose and gathered the pile of bills and shoved them in a kitchen drawer, then opened the refrigerator door, wondering what she should eat for dinner. The shelves were bare except for a chunk of cheese, some grapes, a carton of coffee creamer, and an open bottle of Chardonnay. She regretted telling the ladies at the shower that they should take the leftover food home to their kids.

“Looks like the usual for dinner again tonight,” she muttered, grabbing the grapes and cheese and placing them on the counter. As she reached into the cupboard for a plate, she heard the doorbell ring. Frowning, she glanced out the window and saw Jake’s truck parked in the drive.
What in the world was he doing here?

She opened the front door and caught her breath as she saw Jake with a bag of groceries in his arms.

“Jake, what are you doing here?” She swung the screen door outwards and held it open.

“I had a hankering for a steak dinner, and, on a whim, I thought I’d stop by and see if you’d like to join me.” He nodded towards the bag in his arms. “That is, if you haven’t already eaten.”

Kendall was dumbfounded. She and Jake had made their peace, but he was the last person she’d expect to show up at her door with dinner. “Sure, come on in. I was just getting ready to make dinner myself. How’d you know where I live, anyway?”

“Mrs. Southwell told me.”

Kendall fought a smile. First, the dinner invitation from Stephen, and now this. It wasn’t hard to imagine what Margaret was up to.

Jake followed her into the kitchen and set the bag of groceries on the counter. “Do you have a charcoal grill?”

She shook her head. “Sorry.”

“That’s all right.” He took a package of two large steaks and a bottle of Worcestershire sauce out of the bag. “Let me marinate these, and then I’ll gather some wood and get a fire going outside. Mind if I use the rack from your oven?”

“You’re going to cook the steaks outside over a wood fire?”

“Why not? It’s just like a campfire.” Jake opened the package of meat. “Do you have a plate I can use to marinate these on?”

“Sure.” She took a platter out of the cupboard and handed it to him.

“Thanks.” He glanced down at her running shorts as he took the platter from her. “Did you go running in this heat?”

“No. It’s so darned hot in here, I took a shower and put on the coolest clothes I could find.” Kendall folded her arms across her chest, suddenly self-conscious about her appearance. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“It’s hot in here all right. It must be tough sleeping at night without air conditioning.”

“I have it. I just try not to use it unless the heat gets unbearable. It really runs up the electrical bill.”

“Yeah, I’m lucky I don’t have to worry about that at Mrs. Southwell’s.” He doused the steaks with Worcestershire sauce and flipped them over. “There, that ought to do it.”

He reached into the grocery bag and lifted out a six-pack of Budweiser. “Would you like a cold beer?”

Kendall wrinkled her nose. “No thanks; I’m not much of a beer drinker. I’ll pour myself a glass of wine.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he said, helping himself to a bottle.

“What does that mean?”

Jake shrugged. “Nothing. Just that, now that I think about it, I should have known you wouldn’t be a beer-drinking kind of gal.”