Give First Place to Murder (16 page)

"Truce?" His voice gentle.

"Truce."

"Good. I've missed you." He looked like he had a hard time getting that one out, but I was glad he did.

"Well, now that I think about it, I missed you too." I found that I meant every word.

"In that case, how about dinner tonight?"

"Can't you think of anything to do but eat?"

"Actually, yes. I can think of at least one other thing." He smile at me then proceeded to study the now visible chalkboard.

To my horror, I grinned. Or I started to. The trouble was, the thought of the “other thing” appealed. A lot. What was the matter with me? We’d agreed to be friends only, at least until Susannah went back to school in the fall, and then we’d see. Fall suddenly seemed a long way away.

I could tell he was watching me. I thought I detected a suspicion of a smile behind that mustache. "I could take you out for a pizza if you want."

"No, no.” I grabbed my napkin out of the way as Ruthie slid plates in front of us. "We'll do something on the barbecue. No problem."

I was carefully pouring a small amount of salad dressing over my salad when Dan said, "Ellie, I want to ask you something."

My hand jerked and the whole cup of dressing poured out, most of it on the salad. I mopped up the rest of it with my napkin, avoiding Dan's eyes. "Oh? What."

"I want you to go to a horse show with me."

"What?"

"It's in Santa Barbara. This weekend."

"A horse show? You?" I was dumfounded.

"Why not me? I seem to be stumbling over horses and horsey people every place I go lately. Might as well see what it's all about. Besides, a change of scene will do us both good."

Thoughts were tripping over each other. That Dan had suddenly been smitten with a love of horses was one I instantly rejected. There was another reason, but what? And where did I fit in?

"I thought we might go down Saturday afternoon, get a room by the beach, have a nice dinner and come back on Sunday evening."

"What?" Surely I could think of another word, but the surprises were coming a little too fast. Images of sandy beaches, the setting sun, white wine chilling in glasses, flashed by, coupled with a glimpse of a shut motel room door. I gulped. I could feel my resolve to slow down our relationship dissolve. Nights with Dan were fun, Santa Barbara would be wonderful, and why did I think we should go slow anyway? I was forty, for God’s sake. And, one night in Santa Barbara didn’t mean anything more than--one night. But this horse show thing. Where would Susannah be? I needed to know. We had to talk about that.

“
I can’t just--I need to know…“

"Oh well, maybe another time" Dan was irritatingly complacent about my hesitation. I wanted to throw the rest of the salad dressing at him.

"How about if we leave early, really early Sunday morning. It's only two hours down there so we'll make a day of it. It’ll give you a chance to keep an eye on Susannah. "

"Susannah! How do you know that--."

"She’s going? Bryce told me."

Everyone seemed to be finishing my sentences but me, but then, everyone seemed to know what was happening but me.

"Why were you talking to Bryce?" I had decided to leave the subject of Susannah until tonight. When she and I were alone.

"I'm a policeman, remember? I’m still investigating a murder. The victim worked for Bryce and Irma. They seemed like good choices for interviews."

"What did Bryce have to say?" I pushed dripping lettuce around the plate, trying not to seem as interested in the answer as I was.

"Not a lot.” Dan paused to mop up the last of the pot pie gravy with a roll, then ate the rest of the crust. I vowed to give him green beans and salad for dinner.

“
Just kept saying he needed someone, Rusty turned up and said he had a lot of experience, so Bryce hired him. Irma says she knew nothing about him until she arrived at the show grounds."

"So we’re going to Santa Barbara because you like sea air and have taken a sudden interest in Arabian show horses?” I watched his all too innocent expression. “Is that right?"

"Something like that, yes. Want to go?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Somehow I knew you’d say that. OK. It's a date. Now, how about if I come over around six tonight and the same time Sunday morning. Six A.M. You will be up, won't you?"

All the fiends in hell wouldn't be able to keep me in bed after five on Sunday morning, but I only smiled and said, "Oh, I think I can make it."

I silently vowed to do one other thing. Use our two-hour drive to make Dan tell me what he really expected to find in Santa Barbara.

The phone was ringing as I came in the front door. It was Irma.

"Wanted to thank you again for setting up that meeting with Bo,” she began. “I told Wes what I needed and he said he'll have Linda get everything together for me. Said he thought she already had, but no one told me. Not that that's a surprise. Anyway, I'll pick up what she has ready and take it to Bo before we leave."

"Leave. Right. I need to talk…"

"Another thing. I got Susannah her own room in Santa Barbara. At the Willow Tree, right next to mine. I didn't want you to think, well, that I wasn't taking care of her or anything."

Another sentence interrupted, but this time I was glad. "I never thought that for a minute. But no one told me about this show."

"Why, this is Region II! Remember last week when Challenge won? We said then he'd go. We already had other horses entered but now, now it's really special."

"Irma, exactly what is a Region II?"

“
My goodness, Ellen, it's the qualifying show for Nationals. It's going to be huge. And tough. Remember the chestnut colt that Lone Oak Farms has been showing this year? He's good. Challenge has a better hind quarter but..."

Of course I didn't remember any chestnut colt. I’d only been to one horse show. I knew chestnut was a color, but after that I was lost. Hindquarters, however, I was familiar with. Just that morning I’d taken a good look at my own and vowed to shed a couple of pounds.

"Irma, I have to go. I think I heard Susannah. But I'll see you Sunday."

"You're coming? Wonderful. That's wonderful. Get an early start so you don't miss his class."

She was gone before I could ask her how early was early, but it hardly mattered. Susannah would know.

My daughter came through the back door, sweaty, smelly, and smiling.

"Hi Mom. Boy, am I beat. Is the washing machine empty? What's for dinner?"

"Susannah, we have to talk."

"Sure. Right after I have a shower. I smell like a horse."

She did. Even Jake wouldn't go near her. She stepped out of the shower and into a whirlwind of activity. First she stuffed the washing machine with dirty jeans and muddy tennis shoes. Next she started rummaging in the garage.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for the duffle bag I brought back from school. I know I put it here somewhere."

"You left it in the downstairs closet behind your tennis stuff."

"Thanks Mom," She was off.

"Susannah, wait. We have to talk."

"As soon as I'm off the phone." She was already punching buttons as she pulled jeans from the dryer.

"Did they all get there?” she asked into the phone tucked under her chin. “How about the two year old. OK. Now if you send the four horse down early tomorrow, it can take Challenge and the geldings. That frees the van for the Ohio trip. No? Oh. How --?"

She must be talking to Linda. The logistics of moving show horses around made moving the 5th Army look like a breeze.

The screen door slammed and Dan walked in.

"Looks like someone is going somewhere." He eyed the growing pile of clean jeans, shirts, socks and sweatshirts on the dining room table. "Guess we’re going to eat outside."

"Unless you want laundry with your pasta."

"Pasta?"

"And salad. It's non-fat."

Susannah carved out enough time to join us for dinner. “This is wonderful, Mom.” She quickly worked her way through an overflowing plate.

“
Take your time. There’s no prize for finishing first.”

“
Have to hurry.” She swallowed the last bite. “Neil will be here any minute. We’re going to the movies.”

"I thought you told me Irma was picking you up at five thirty tomorrow morning."

"She is. But she's driving, so I can sleep on the way down."

"Nice to think you might work that into your schedule." My sarcasm fell, as usual, on deaf ears.

"Mom says you want me to quit my job," Susannah said to Dan.

"I do."

"Why haven’t you asked me?” She had her head slightly cocked to one side, waiting for an answer.

"Because I can’t make you, and you’re not going to. Are you.”

"No. I’m not."

"OK. But I'll make you a deal." Dan leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, giving Susannah serious consideration.

"What kind of deal?" Susannah looked at him suspiciously. I looked at him in amazement. Why hadn’t he done this earlier?

"I’m going to give you a card with a couple of phone numbers on it. If anything happens during the horse show, anything makes you nervous, doesn’t feel right, even if you don't know why, get to a phone and call one of these numbers.”

“
And someone will come running, sirens screaming?”

“
No sirens.” Dan said, leaning forward a little, watching her. “Someone will come, but quietly. If you’ll promise, I won’t say another word.” Then he smiled at her. “It’ll make your mother feel better. Agreed?"

Susannah said nothing for a moment, then a slow grin grew. "Agreed. You know, you might be all right after all. Whoops. There's Neil. See you.”

There was no mistaking Neil’s truck engine. Susannah took the card Dan handed her, examined the numbers, nodded to him, blew me a kiss and was gone.

"You’re still worried, aren't you?" I wondered if I’d badly misread the situation and when I should start to panic.

Dan paused a moment before he answered me. “People who deal in drugs, on any level, do it for only one reason. Money. One man has already died, right here in our little backwater town. I'm not sure who is responsible, or how, but these are things I take seriously. It’s obvious you and Susannah aren’t going to shirk what you consider your responsibilities no matter what I say, and you’re right. You’re an adult, you can make your own decisions. However, I'm still a policeman, sworn to protect innocent citizens, and that's what I'm trying to do." He smiled at me. "Come on. I'll help you with the dishes. I brought a movie. You'll love it."

"I'll bet it's a cops and robbers type." I stacked dishes on a tray, hoping my face was hidden. That speech was exactly what I’d hoped he would say the first time, except for the part about the drug dealers and how dangerous they were. That part scared the daylights out of me. But the rest—it made me feel—maybe I didn’t want to explore how it made me feel.

"It's not "The Parent Trap," he informed me cheerfully. "I don't suppose you have any ice cream."

Dan picked up the tray and started for the door. I held it open for him. "It's frozen yogurt for you, Dan Dunham. Someone has to look after your arteries."

"I'll bet they'd benefit by another beer. Yogurt sounds like an after the movie thing. Want another glass of wine?"

Why not, I thought as I stacked the last plate in the dishwasher. Dan’s conversation with Susannah had rattled me, and yogurt didn’t sound very comforting. I joined Dan on the sofa, the movie already in the VCR, Jake on his lap. It was indeed a cops and robbers type. Dan regaled me throughout with all of the procedural mistakes in it, but he kept quiet during the love scenes. By the time it was over I was somehow curled up beside him, my head on his shoulder, his arm around me. It seemed so natural I wasn't sure when or how it happened. Dan flicked off the TV, stretched, put Jake on the floor and pulled me to my feet.

"I'll take a rain check on your yogurt. How about Saturday? Tell you what. I'll treat you to pizza and a movie. Just like in the old days. We may even venture over the hill to San Luis. OK?"

"Sure. But I get to pick the movie. After all that excitement, I think I need something tamer."

"I think you’ve turned back into a small town girl." Then he kissed me. A long kiss, filled with intensity, his hands doing things that made my body come alive in places I’d never known existed the whole time I was married to Brian. I felt myself press against him, felt my lips open slightly against his, felt my hands slide around his shoulders, then up toward the back of his neck where they could do nothing to stop what his were doing. Just as suddenly he let me go.

"You know, Ellen Page McKenzie,” his voice a little hoarse and raspy, “patience only extends so far.” That was all he said, but the way he looked at me wasn’t calculated to reduce my now wildly surging nerve endings, or restore my breathing to anything like normal.

"Dan," was all I got out. I felt as if the roller coaster I’d been riding had just hit bottom.