Plain Jane (29 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Plain Jane
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Olive licked at Jane's face until she opened her eyes.
“We can go home now, Olive. Jeez, I fell asleep and had this dream that I was going to buy this house. You know what, it's not such a bad idea. I'm going to think about it. That dream was a doozie. If anyone finds out we broke in here, we'll not only be guilty of breaking and entering, but they'll send the guys in the white coats with the nets. Shh, we have to be quiet when we leave. Not a sound now.”
Jane stopped at Frog City and bought a pack of cigarettes, a loaf of bread, cream for her coffee, and a beef jerky for Olive. She was back home just as the sun crept over the horizon.
At eight o'clock, Jane was on the phone to Duhon's Funeral Home. She scheduled a service for three o'clock and the interment for four o'clock. She called Trixie, Fred, Betty's friend Chuck, and Brian Ramsey. All promised to attend the service. She debated a long minute before calling Sharon Thomas, knowing she'd get her service, which she did. She left a short message and hung up.
“I don't know what to do, Olive,” Jane cried, wringing her hands.
Olive was all over her a second later. “What would I do without you, girl?” Jane sobbed.
 
 
It was Flash who alerted Fred to the fact that a car had stopped in front of the house. “Trixie, there's a strange man walking up to our front porch. You better get out here before Flash goes through the window.”
Trixie came on the run, her jewelry clanking, her hair standing on end. “Easy, boy, easy,” she said, grabbing hold of Flash's collar. “It's okay for people to come to the door. Sit like a gentleman.” She opened the door a crack, Flash's snout pressed against her leg.
“Mrs. McGuire, I'm Bob Henry. I came back for the holidays and wanted to stop to see Flash. Is it okay for me to come in?”
Trixie wanted to scream, no, it isn't all right. Flash is my dog now. Go away. Instead, she said, “Yes, of course, come in.” She leaned into Fred, her heart pounding in her chest. “You can't have him back. He's mine!” she blurted.
“I know that, Mrs. McGuire. I just wanted to see him. We were partners for a long time. The guys at the station told me what you did for him and your plans for the future. I wanted to see you and tell you how wonderful that is.”
Bob Henry bent down to the dog. “Hey, buddy, it's me, Bob! Shake hands.”
Trixie let her breath out in a loud whoosh when the big dog remained at her side, his big paws firmly planted on the floor. His body quivered.
“It's okay, Flash,” she said, patting his head. “Go shake hands with Mr. Henry. Be nice now. Give Mr. Henry a kiss.”
Henry reared back, almost falling over. “A kiss! He gives kisses! You took a killer dog and taught him to kiss people! I don't believe it.”
“Believe it,” Trixie snapped. “Flash is retired, so that means it's okay for him to do whatever I teach him. He's just being social. This dog almost died on me, Mr. Henry. I did what I had to do to save him. We have a good thing going here, so don't go screwing it up on me.”
“Please, don't get me wrong,” he said, holding up his hand. “I just meant I didn't think it could be done. For one thing he hated women. You're a woman. It's wonderful what you've been able to do. I did some heavy-duty worrying about him, but Jake kept assuring me you were taking good care of him.”
Henry cupped the big dog's head in his hands. “You're one lucky guy, so make sure you behave yourself. Okay, okay, one kiss.”
Flash licked him once, then inched closer to Trixie and Golda. His tail swished furiously as he watched Henry straighten up. He pawed the carpet and snorted.
“That's my signal to leave,” Henry grinned. “He's viewing this visit as me stepping onto
his
turf. It's his way of telling all of us the old days are gone, and he likes what's going on now. See ya around, Officer Flash!”
“Woof.”
“Yeah, woof,” Trixie said, shutting the door. “Did you see that, Fred? I had nightmares about this happening. I knew the day would come when he'd show up. I thought Flash would want to go with him. I really did,” Trixie said in a choked voice.
“That dog loves you heart and soul, Trixie. He isn't about to abandon you. Not now, not ever. He's yours just the way Golda is yours now.”
Trixie dropped to her knees. Both dogs were on her and she squealed with laughter as they rolled around on the carpet. “Killer dog, my ass.” Trixie grinned. “This is one hundred and ten pounds of pure love. Right Flash? You, too, Golda. Come on now, give Trixie some loving.”
“I gotta get back to work. What are you going to do, honey?”
“I've got some stuff to do in the barn for the dogs when they get here. John Murray is coming by later today to show me how he's going to do the training. I want to be in on everything. He's doing it on his off time, so I have to be available. Right now he's on a temporary leave. I'm hoping I can entice him to a permanent deal. Did you call the attorney ?”
“I called him a half hour ago. He said he'd get right on it. By that he means he's going to write the letters and follow up with a phone call right after New Year's. If he has to, he'll go up to LSU to speed things up. He thinks it's a good idea. Did you call Janie?”
“Yes, but she didn't answer. I didn't think she would. She needs this time for herself. We'll talk at the funeral home this afternoon. Wear your blue suit, Fred. You look distinguished in your blue suit. Janie might want you to say a few words.”
“Okay, honey.”
 
 
A light rain was falling when Fred brought the car to a stop behind the funeral hearse. Three other cars stopped behind him: Betty's friend Chuck, Brian Ramsey, and, in the last car, four of Betty's neighbors. Jane looked around to see if Sharon Thomas was anywhere to be seen. She wasn't.
The service was pitifully short, with everyone huddled under umbrellas. Jane stared at the casket, with its blanket of daisies. She wondered if she should have done more. Paying for the funeral and flowers hardly seemed enough.
“Ashes to ashes . . .”
Tears misted Jane's lashes as she stepped forward. She was supposed to say something, but what could she say that would bring some meaning to Betty's death? She cleared her throat. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a car approach. “We all take different paths in life, but no matter where we go, we take a little of each other with us. Amen.”
Jane's heart fluttered when she raised her eyes to see Mike standing next to Fred, who was stepping forward, a single white rose in his hand. He, too, cleared his throat before speaking. “We only knew Betty for a short while, but we grew to care for her and she for us. My definition of a friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words. Betty was that kind of friend. She's in another place now, and I can only hope she's singing.”
Jane dabbed at her eyes as she followed the others to file past the casket. Why did it always rain at funerals? It had rained the day her father was buried and the day her mother was laid to rest. She felt Mike cup her elbow in his hand and was grateful for the support.
Back at the car she shook hands with Chuck, the neighbors, and Brian Ramsey, who looked visibly shaken. He looked as if he hadn't slept in a long time.
“I want to thank you for what you did for Betty. And for trying to help me, too,” Brian said.
Chuck stepped forward. “I called Betty's aunt. She said she couldn't come for the funeral. She said as soon as she had a free moment, she would come to pick up Betty's car and personal possessions,” he said, disgust written all over his face. He hugged Jane before he climbed into his pickup truck.
The neighbors shook hands politely, then left without saying anything. In the end, what was there to say? A young woman lived, then she died. A beginning and an ending. Life would go on.
Jane rubbed at her temples. She could feel the beginnings of a headache. All she wanted was to go home and go to sleep.
“I'll ride with Mike, Trixie. Thanks for everything. How's Golda doing?”
“She whimpers once in a while, but she's fine. Flash is with her. Are you okay, honey?”
“No, I'm not okay. That will change, though. Sharon didn't come, Trixie. How could she not come to her patient's funeral? I don't understand. Do you understand?”
“No, Janie, I don't understand. She has to live with this. You did everything you could. Put it behind you now. Tomorrow is a new day.”
Back at the house, Jane tossed her coat and purse on the foyer table. “How was your holiday, Mike?” she asked, her voice dull and lifeless as she headed for the sofa where she curled up next to Olive.
Mike frowned. No kiss, no hug, no real greeting. “Where's your ring, Jane?”
“Upstairs. I've been thinking, Mike. I think I need more time.”
“You're blaming me, aren't you?”
“At first I did. Not now, though. I blame myself. I should have been more alert, more involved regardless of Sharon's demands. What did I miss? How could I have missed it whatever it was? My relationship with you colored everything. I should have tried harder, done more. When she didn't call earlier in the week, I should have called her. I keep asking myself why I didn't do that. The only answer I can come up with was I didn't want to disturb my life where you were concerned. I put you first.”
“How could you know, Jane? We aren't mind readers. You did exactly what you were supposed to do. I don't want you trying to take the blame for something that isn't your fault. Going there the other night wouldn't have solved a thing. Betty was already dead.”
“I need to be alone, Mike. I have a lot of thinking to do. Let's leave it that I'll call you.”
“That . . . that sounds . . . final.”
“Lock the door when you leave, okay?”
Mike stared helplessly at the woman on the sofa. “If that's what you want. Will you promise to call me?”
“At some point. I don't know when that will be, though.” A minute later she was sound asleep.
Mike wanted to kiss her good-bye but he knew the springer would rip out his throat if he made a move in Jane's direction. “Take care of her, Olive,” he whispered.
Olive whimpered as she licked at Jane's face. When she heard the sound of the lock turning over, Olive laid her big head on Jane's shoulder, her eyes on the front door. Eventually she, too, slept.
14
Trixie McGuire stood on her back porch with Flash and Golda at her side. She watched as an eighteen-wheeler pulled alongside her newly renovated barn that would be the home for the K-9s scheduled for training. Somewhere, someplace, something had gone wrong. Instead of six dogs, there were eight, which required many hours of last-minute rescheduling and reshifting of the dogs' quarters.
Fred watched his wife from his office window. He could feel his heart swell with happiness at her excitement. Trixie had finally found what she said was her niche in life. He smiled when he thought about the dedicated hours Trixie spent with Flash, she in her police uniform and Flash in his bulletproof vest. At one point, he wondered if she had the stamina or the endurance to continue, but she had. He was so proud of her he wanted to shout it from the rooftops. He was considering doing just that when the phone rang.
“Fred, this is Daniel Warner,” the lawyer said. “I wanted to let you know everything is a go.”
“No kidding,” Fred said. He could hardly wait to tell Trixie the good news.
“No kidding. In fact, I'm looking at our approval letter as we speak. Okay, have I got this straight? You want me to send out all the contest notices FedEx overnight with a one-week response deadline, right?”
Fred closed his eyes as he pictured Jane the last time he'd seen her. She'd been wan and listless. “Yes. Time is of the essence, Daniel. We need to wrap this up ASAP.”
“I thought you would say that, so one of the secretaries is on it right now. The letters will go out this afternoon for a 10
A.M.
delivery tomorrow. Some of the players could have moved, relocated for job purposes, etc. The Alumni Association said the records are up-to-date, but that doesn't really mean anything. You might not get a good response rate because of the short deadline. On the other hand, the money may bring them in on time and in record numbers. The dean wants to see your check. Since I have it here, I'm going to overnight it to him along with all the other things he requested. You might actually pull this off, Fred.”
A cacophony of barking, yipping dogs made it difficult for Fred to hear. “I hope so. Listen, Daniel, I have to go now. Things are happening here, and I need to step in.”
“I'll be in touch.”
Fred ran to the kitchen and met Trixie as she was coming inside. “What the hell is going on?”
“Not now, Fred. Can't you hear I have my hands full!”
Fred stared out the window at what Trixie called the compound, where eight monster-sized dogs were chasing one another as they snapped and snarled in their frenzy to understand these new circumstances. They'd traveled all the way from Holland, had a brief respite of an hour, and were then put back onto a plane and flown to New Orleans where they'd been picked up by the trucking company and delivered to the McGuire farm.
“You have no control, Trixie!” Fred shouted above the clatter.
“No shit, Fred! Call Janie and tell her to get over here. Tell her I don't care if she is wallowing in self-pity. Tell her I said she's been moaning and groaning for three full weeks now and my patience is at an end. And, tell her she committed to this little enterprise, and her help would be much appreciated.” Trixie grabbed her cigarettes off the kitchen table and went back outside, Fred right behind her. “On second thought, never mind all that. Just tell her to get her ass over here and help me. Then get inside before one of these dogs jumps out and chews your ass off,” Trixie shouted over the barking dogs.
Fred scurried inside to follow his wife's instructions, leaving her to deal with her new business.
Trixie lit up a much-needed cigarette and inhaled deeply. “Okay, okay, that's it!” she yelled in her drill-sergeant voice. “Flash, round them up. Golda, don't take any crap off any of them. You two have seniority. Strong measures are called for here,” she said, pulling her gun free of the holster. She held the gun, barrel pointed up, and fired off a shot. When the commotion continued, she fired off a second then a third. Finally, in desperation, she pointed the gun at the ground and emptied the clip. The dogs immediately stopped barking, at which point Trixie sat down on the ground and rubbed her ears.
Flash and Golda ran over to her.
“No, no, you guys. I am not officer down. It's okay,” she said, reassuring them. “I'm just taking a break.” As soon as Flash and Golda calmed down, Trixie turned to see what the others were doing. One by one they crept closer to the fence, sniffing, whining and growling. Flash reared up to his full majestic height and balanced himself on his two hind legs. He let loose with a murderous bark that made the hair on Trixie's arms quiver.
Trixie looked from Flash to the other dogs. “Listen up! He's letting you guys know he's top dog around here,” she said in a firm voice. “This one,” she said, pointing to Golda, “is Top Dog Two, and Top Dog Three is on her way over here. I hope.” She stood up and waved them all back. “Okay, you've had your romp. You've peed and pooped. Now it's time to get a bath because you all stink from the kennels. You aren't going to be caged again, so don't look at me like that.” She reached inside her shirt and brought out a Ziploc bag full of weenies. “These are just for now, so you know I'm the good guy. Later you get that rabbit-poop food that is supposed to be good for you. Come on now, come get your weenie.”
“My God, Trixie,” Fred said from the back porch, “you're going to spoil them all rotten. By the way, Janie said she's coming right over.”
“I need more weenies, Fred,” Trixie called over her shoulder. “Look, they're just little pussy cats. Ahh, they're scared is what they are. Flash knew that. So did Golda. What's holding you up, Fred?”
Moments later, Fred trundled to the middle of the yard and handed Trixie two packages of hot dogs.
“Stand here next to me, Fred. I want them to get to know you. Be gentle with them. Talk softly and stroke them carefully. This is what they're going to remember. Kindness and food. Once they accept that, authority kicks in.”
Fred looked at Trixie in utter amazement. “How do you know all this, Trixie?”
“I read a book, Fred. You know, the one sitting on the kitchen table that I asked you to read two weeks ago.”
“Oh,
that
book,” he said sheepishly.
“How did Janie sound when you talked to her?” Trixie finished passing out the weenies and rubbed her hands on her jeans.
“The same, unfortunately. Like she was in a deep hole somewhere.” He sent Trixie a worried look, then brightened. “Daniel called. The university approved our little project. Letters are going out today, FedEx overnight. I hope a week is enough time, not that we have any choice what with Janie and all. Speaking of Janie, when are we going to tell her?”
“Today might be good, providing she gets here. If she doesn't show up in the next half hour, I want you to go over there and drag her here by the scruff of the neck. I mean it, Fred. If she goes on like this much longer, she's going to slip into that dark hole, and we might not be able to get her out of it. She needs to settle things with Mike, too. I feel like shooting him just to put him out of his misery.”
Fred put his hand down for one of the dogs to smell. “Do you know their names, Trixie?”
“Yes, but I don't know who is who yet. Their names are on their collars, but I haven't wanted to touch them yet. We have four girls and four boys. They're in tip-top shape and perfect health. It's our job, Janie's and mine, to keep them that way. Aren't they beautiful, Fred? See, they're quiet now. They were just scared. This is a good thing we're doing, Fred. A real good thing. We're going to do something here we can really be proud of.”
“I'm already proud . . . of you,” he said. He turned his head to the right. “I hear a car. It must be Janie. Do you want me to stay here or go inside?”
“It depends on whether or not you want to hear me read her the riot act. We can play good guy, bad guy. She'll run to you when I'm done with her. It's the only way, Fred. She's losing it. I can't and won't stand still for that.” Her determination was like a hard knot inside of her. She would not let Janie drift away into depression.
“Whatever you decide to do is okay with me, sweetums. I'll go inside and get back to work. If you need me, whistle.”
Trixie did a double take when Jane walked through the gate. Who
was
this person walking toward her? Three weeks couldn't make that much difference in a person's appearance. But obviously it had. “Shh,” she whispered to the dogs, trying to quiet them down.
“I'm here,” Jane said in a flat voice. Her face was devoid of makeup, and her hair looked like it hadn't been washed in a week. The gray sweats she was wearing were way too big for her and the front of her sweatshirt was food-stained.
“I can see that,” Trixie said, looking her over from head to toe, “but the question is, are you here in body
and
mind? You can't skate on this, Janie. As you can see,” she said, gesturing to the compound full of dogs, “the first batch of trainees arrived this morning. If you had been here on their arrival, it would have made things a lot easier on me. But, no, you chose to sit home sucking your thumb and feeling sorry for yourself. You wouldn't be here now if Fred hadn't called you. We had a deal, Jane. I expect you to uphold your end of it. I don't want an attitude either.” Her stern expression brooked no back talk. “You want to know about misery, then let me tell you about misery. Look at these poor creatures. They've been cooped up in kennels on airplanes for two days. They stink from poop and pee because they had to use their kennels to go in. They were hungry and scared out of their wits. This is new, so new, they don't know what to make of it. Right now they're grateful because I gave them water and food. I hope you're getting my point here before I'm forced to bring out the big guns.”
“Look, Trixie, I'm sorry. I—” Her voice broke miserably.
“I don't want to hear it, Jane. The past is prologue. You can't go back. You can't undo anything. What you have is today and today is where it's at. When was the last time you looked in the mirror?”
“A mirror? What's a mirror got to do with anything?”
“A lot from where I'm standing.” Trixie put her hands on Jane's shoulders. “You have bags under your eyes, not to mention dark circles. You're gaunt and haggard-looking. You look like you lost about fifteen pounds, which means you aren't eating. Your hair's a mess, and you smell almost as bad as these dogs. That tells me you've been drinking. A lot. Then you sleep, wake up, don't shower because it's too much trouble, and then you smoke, drink some more, and then you sleep. You wake up and do it all over again.”
Jane flinched at the tone of Trixie's voice. She had enough on her plate right now. She didn't need Trixie laying another kind of guilt trip on her. “Maybe agreeing to do this was a mistake. Why are you acting like this? I've never done anything but love you. Can't you cut me some slack?”
“Slack?” Trixie removed her hands and dropped them to her sides. “If Fred and I cut you any more slack than we already have, you'll drown in self-pity. You're at the edge of the dark hole right now, Janie. We're going to ride you until you come out of this. Do you hear me? We're doing this because we love you, and we want you to be happy.” She paused a moment, cocked her head, and scrutinized her goddaughter. “Unless, of course, you don't want to be happy. Maybe you want to be miserable and make everyone around you miserable.” She raised an eyebrow. “It never occurred to me before, but I suppose we could have been wrong about you all these years and you really are just like your mother.”
Jane's eyes flashed with anger. “How could you say such a thing to me? I am
nothing
like her. Nothing!”
Trixie felt an adrenaline rush. “I'm not so sure anymore. I remember a time, no a couple of times, when your mother played ‘poor me' to get attention. We finally got wise and learned to ignore her. And speaking of ignoring. . . . How long do you think Mike's patience will last? He's been downright saintly through all of this. I think you should give him back his ring so he can get on with his life. You can't keep jerking people around like you've been doing. By the way, where's Olive? I hope to God you've been feeding her.”
“She's with Fred. She saw all the dogs and got scared. Of course I fed her. What do you think I am?” she asked sharply.
Trixie reached out and framed Jane's face with her hands. “I think, Jane, you are a wonderful, caring, loving person who stepped off the path. That's understandable and acceptable to a point. But we're past that point now. You know what Fred says, fish or cut bait. What's it going to be, Jane?”
“It's been hard, Trixie,” she said in a low, tormented voice. “I need a little more time.”
“No, Jane,” Trixie said, shaking her head. “Time ran out early this morning. The dogs are here. If I can't depend on you, then you're outta here, girl. Permanently. Fred feels the same way. We'll take Olive, though.”

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