3 Savor (5 page)

The house was quiet when she
flipped off the lights. She stopped to look out the kitchen window at the tall
oak and eucalyptus trees. Moonlight shimmered off leaves and spilled through
the branches to the familiar tire swing swaying gently in the night breeze. She
smiled, remembering the first time she kissed Handel there. On a night like
tonight, with only the moon watching, she’d fallen in love all over again with
her childhood friend. Handy. She closed her eyes and said a little prayer of
thanks that God had seen fit to give them more time together. Life without him
was unimaginable now.

Her cell phone, left on the kitchen
counter, started playing Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. She hurried to pick up.
“Hello, Mother.”

She heard engine noise in the
background and wondered what her mother was up to this time. She seemed to be
on a mission lately to do all the things common sense had once talked her out
of doing. After a short-lived long-distance romance with Carl’s older brother,
Antonio, she’d sworn off men and decided to quit worrying about love and start
thinking about having some fun. Her exact words. Billie didn’t know if she was
fulfilling some crazy bucket list or she’d gone completely insane.

“Billie? Are you there? I can’t
hear you,” her mother shouted into the phone.

Billie moved the cell away from her
ear. “I’m here. What are you doing? Skydiving?”

Last week her mother had called to
say she had signed up to go bungee jumping off a bridge up along the border of
Canada. It seemed more than a little ludicrous that her conservative mother,
who once told her not to jump off a bridge just cause everyone else did, would
suddenly have a need for speed and a desire to take death-defying leaps of
faith. Billie didn’t know if her mother had lost her mind, but from the distance
of California there was nothing she could do about it.

“No, of course not, honey. Stella
and I are out at the races. Stock cars, you know? It’s pretty loud but I wanted
to see how everything went today. I suppose Handel’s already tucked into bed. I
was…” Revving engines and a voice over a loudspeaker drowned out the rest of
her words.

Billie waited for the noise to die
down before responding. “What made you choose stock car races tonight, anyway?”
she asked, walking down the hall to check that the front door was locked.
“You’ve always hated loud noise. When I was a teenager, you wouldn’t let me
turn my music up loud enough to hear the words.”

“Oh, don’t exaggerate. Your
childhood was just as rebellious and wild as the rest of the population. Don’t
think I didn’t know you listened to Hell on Wheels or whatever that group was,
when I wasn’t around. Anyway, I better let you go. I’m supposed to be getting
popcorn for Stella. She’s probably wondering if I got lost. I had to step into
the women’s bathroom to be able to hear.”

“I’ll let Handel know you called.
He’ll be sorry he missed you, but he was exhausted, so I sent him to bed. We
had a little welcome home party when we got here. Davy even colored a banner.”
Billie looked up at the paper strip still decorating the fireplace mantle and
smiled before shutting off the lights in the living room.

“I wish I could have been there,”
her mother said, a touch of sadness filling her words in spite of the
background noise. “I’m so happy he’s all right. He is all right, isn’t he?”

Billy expelled a laugh. “Yes,
Mother, he’s very all right. We both are now.”

“Goodnight, honey.”

“Night, Mom.”

She shut off the phone, closed her
eyes and drew a deep cleansing breath.

But for some strange reason she was
still hearing the sound of an engine revving. She went to the front window and
pulled back the drapes enough to look out. Headlights cut a swath across her
face as a vehicle spun in the gravel. The driver gunned the engine and tore out
again, then spun another circle, throwing rocks and dust into the air. The
winery’s security lights popped on across the yard as the SUV headed in that
direction. They drove past the parking area, over the curb onto the sidewalk,
slammed on the brakes and spun again, tearing up the flowerbeds she’d recently
planted out front of the entrance.

Angry now, she ran to the front
door and threw it open. She didn’t know what she was going to do, but when the
porch light came on and lit her up, the truck suddenly slid to a stop. The
driver revved the motor. Vroom, vroom. It was obviously an intimidation ploy,
and it was working. She took a step back, just inside the door and quickly
punched 911 into her cellphone.

The driver backed up slowly, then
turned the vehicle toward the house and hit the gas. Were they crazy? She
slammed the door and locked it. But that wouldn’t stop a truck. She turned to
run toward the back of the house, when she heard them skid to a stop outside
and the driver laid on the horn. They were definitely trying to get her
attention.

“911, what’s your emergency?” The
voice asked from far away.

Billie lifted the phone to her ear.
“This is Billie Parker at The Fredrickson Winery. There’s someone outside
driving their vehicle all over the place and damaging our property. Could you
send out a patrol car?”

She moved back to the window and
peered through the drapes. The vehicle’s tinted windows reflected the porch
light back at her, but made it impossible to see who was driving. While she
watched, the driver side window of the SUV rolled down and the barrel of a gun
stuck out. She dove for the floor, dropping the phone and hitting the end table
with her head. There was a loud pop and the window cracked. Before she could
find where she’d dropped the phone, she heard the truck speed away.

“Billie?” Handel called from down
the hall. She heard the slap of his bare feet against wood floors before the
light in the living room flashed on. “Oh my God! Are you all right?” He dropped
to his knees beside her. “You’re bleeding!”

She reached up and gently probed her
forehead. Her fingers came away red. “I see that.” She tried to stand up and he
grabbed her forearms to keep her from falling. “Sorry. I’m a little dizzy,” she
apologized.

“What happened? Something woke me
up, and I heard you scream.”

“They shot at me,” she said,
pointing at the window, still shocked by that fact. It was the second time
someone had tried to kill her since she’d moved to California and she didn’t
like it any better than she had the first.

“They who?” he asked, eyes wide. He
moved to the window and pulled the drapes aside revealing a bullet hole the
size of a quarter. The tempered glass splintered around the smooth hole like
the rays of the sun.

A siren wailed in the distance and
Billie put a hand on his bare back. “I think you better go put on some clothes,
babe. The police will be here soon.”

He glanced down and seemed to just
realize he was standing there in the buff. “You already called them?” He looked
groggy and confused, glancing around the room as though trying to fill in the
blanks.

Billie pointed at her phone lying
under the edge of the recliner. She must have tossed it when she fell. Handel
reached down and picked it up. She took it and held it to her ear. The
dispatcher was still on the line. “Go. Get dressed,” she said, and waved him
away. “I’ve got this.”

The police car turned into the
winery entrance, lights flashing. “They’re here now,” she told the emergency
operator. “Thank you.”

She pressed a tissue to her
forehead to stop the bleeding. Slipping the phone into her back jeans pocket,
she opened the door. Handel caught up to her before she stepped out onto the
porch. He was fully dressed now in khaki shorts and a green t-shirt.

“That was fast. The drugs must be
wearing off,” she said, remembering that he moved a little slower when he was
on his meds.

“Tell me about it.” He grimaced.

Two officers got out and came to
the door. “Are you Billie Parker?” the older one asked.

“Yes. I called.”

They were staring at Handel oddly
and she realized they thought he was drunk. He was weaving where he stood. She
grabbed his arm. “I think you better sit down. This is too much stress for you
after just getting out of the hospital.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, but she
could tell he was not.

“Are you sure you’re okay, sir?”
the officer asked, hands on his belt. He stepped forward, a look of concern
drawing his brows together.

“My wife is the one who got hurt.
Someone shot at her,” he said, anger tingeing his words. He wasn’t fully aware
of the facts, but his protective side was out full force.

Billie invited the officers inside
as she relayed everything that had taken place since talking with her mother.
They took down the report and the younger officer asked, “How did you hurt your
head, ma’am?”

“When I saw the gun, I dove to the
floor,” she said, pointing, “and managed to hit my head on the table over
there.”

The officer inspected the damaged
window. The bullet hole was right at his chin level. Exactly where Billie’s
face had been when they took aim. She swallowed hard, thinking how quickly
things could change. Handel had survived a near fatal car crash and before they
had time to truly appreciate the reprieve, death came knocking again. Well she
certainly wasn’t ready to let him in.

The senior officer, who’d
introduced himself as Officer Torn, dug the slug out of the far wall and put it
in an evidence bag while his partner went outside and took a few pictures of
the window and tire tracks. Billie had a feeling it was all a waste of time.

“Did you see the license plate or
anything that could be used to identify this vehicle? Or recognize the face of
the driver or shooter?”

She shook her head. “It was too
dark and the windows were tinted. It was a mid-size SUV. Maybe an older Chevy?”
She sighed. “I wish I remembered more, but to tell you the truth, being shot at
really clears your mind. Literally.”

“If you think of anything else,
give us a call.” He handed her his card. “Without a license or accurate
description of the vehicle, there’s not much we can do. I’m sorry.”

“What about the ballistics report?”
Handel asked, getting up from the couch and following them to the door.
“Someone can just shoot at my wife and get away with it? Like it’s some kind of
prank?”

Billie could see the pain was
starting to get to him. He was edgier than usual and not thinking clearly. She
put her arm around his waist. “They’re doing their job, Handel. It was dark and
I was more worried about them tearing up the flowerbeds than trying to read
their license plate. I’m sorry. If I’d known they were crazy enough to shoot at
me…”

“You did the right thing, ma’am.
Confronting them would have just given them a bigger target.” He gave a curt
nod toward Handel. “We’ll definitely file a ballistics report but unless the
gun is used in another crime and we catch the owner red-handed, there’s not
much chance of knowing who came here tonight and fired that shot. You
understand that, don’t you, counselor?”

The officer had obviously
recognized Handel at some point. He’d probably watched the news about the trial
and seen the report on Handel’s accident and the trial’s postponement.

Handel sighed heavily. “I’m sorry,
Officer Torn,” he said. “I don’t want to come across as a pain in the ass but
after what we’ve just been through, and now this…”

“I understand. We’ll do all we can
and I’ll have a patrol car come by a couple more times tonight just in case it
wasn’t a random act of violence.”

“Thank you.”

Officer Torn touched his finger to
the brim of his hat and nodded. “Goodnight, folks. Make sure your doors are
locked and your porch light stays on the rest of the night. A patrol will check
things out again in a couple hours, but chances are you’ll never see or hear
from these guys again.”

“Let’s hope not,” Billie said. She
watched the officers get in their car, then closed and locked the front door.

Handel was at the window again,
inspecting the bullet hole. He slowly shook his head. “I can’t believe this.”

She came up behind him and gently
eased her arms around his waist, trying not to put any pressure on his ribs. “I
know. That window will probably cost a couple thousand bucks to replace. I hope
insurance covers drive-by’s.”

He turned and cupped her face with
his hands, one side of his mouth curving up. “I wasn’t talking about the
window.”

“No?” she asked, wide-eyed and
innocent.

“No. I was thinking that my chances
of winning the lottery might be higher than I once thought.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, think about it. What are the
chances of a criminal attorney marrying a woman so many people want to kill?
Probably only one in a million, right? So, with those odds conquered, what’s
stopping me from beating even bigger odds?”

Billie scoffed and pulled
back.
 
“Now you’re just being mean.
Here I was trying to be all calm and matter-of-fact about the situation to keep
your stress level low, and you come right out and accuse
me
of being the problem.”

He laughed and pulled her close
again. “I never said you were the problem exactly.”

“Oh really? Cause that’s what I
heard.”

 
“Maybe you should get your hearing
checked,” he whispered, and began leaving a trail of kisses down her neck and
along her collarbone.

“I don’t think this is a very good
idea,” she said, suddenly breathless. She closed her eyes under the fresh
onslaught, and moaned when his mouth found hers. It had been so long.

Handel deepened the kiss, his hands
exploring her body as though he needed a reminder of what he’d forgotten while
he was asleep.

“We can’t,” she gasped, pulling
away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then be gentle with me,” he
teased. He took her hand and led her down the hall toward the bedroom.