Authors: Sherry Gammon
“Hi, Dad. How are you doing? I’m fine, thank you. Oh, the weather here, it’s just—”
“I don’t have time for games, Delilah,” he shouted. “I want those numbers.”
“I tried to get them for you last time you called, but you hung up, remember?” My voice shook. Cole came to my side.
“You know I have to worry about the Feds tracing my calls. I can’t be on for long, Delilah.”
“Yes, I understand, Daddy, but you don’t have to get angry with me for that. I’m not a federal agent. And I’m up here in New York, alone, I might add, trying to get the info you want.” I started crying again, this time on purpose. Daddy was a sucker for my tears. If anything could keep him on the phone it’d be that.
“You don’t understand what it’s like for me here.” I sucked in a lungful of air to add to the drama. “I’m all alone. I have no one I can talk to or trust. Everywhere I go I feel like I’m being followed.” Okay, that much was true.
“Princess, please don’t. This will all be over soon, you’ll see. Then you can live wherever you want. You’ll have enough money to hire personal bodyguards to protect you. I’m doing this for you, princess. All for you.”
Booker had his phone pressed to his ear and spoke in hushed tones across the room, signaling me to keep him talking.
“If that’s true then I don’t want the money. I want you. I want you to come get me and take me away from here.” I knew it was a losing argument, but if it kept him on the phone longer, we’d rehash it.
“Delilah, enough. Just give me the numbers.”
“Okay, but these are new numbers, Daddy. Booker’s certifiable and he keeps changing his security code. I’m lucky I got them this time.” Maggie chuckled silently as I signaled for a pen. She handed me one from the desk in the kitchen and I wrote the phony numbers I gave to my dad down on my hand in case he double checked me. All the while Booker signaled to keep him on the line. I stumbled twice and started over.
“Delilah, stop screwing this up,” Daddy barked.
“Sorry, I had to write it quickly and my writing’s a little rough, okay?” I snapped back.
“How many more numbers?” he demanded.
“Seven,” I lied. He groaned. After four numbers I stopped.
“I thought you said there were seven. That’s only four,” Daddy pressed.
“There’re three more. I just wanted to make sure you were caught up,” I said, frowning at Booker as he again mouthed to keep going.
“The last three numbers are six, six, six.” I stuck my tongue out at Booker. Seth’s body shook in silent laughter
this time.
“Six, six, six? As in the biblical mark of the beast?” Daddy asked, laughing a little also.
“Yup. Exactly like the biblical beast.” I beamed proudly. “But there’s more.”
“What!”
“Listen. He has a security camera and you’ll need to turn it off or a silent alarm will signal and you’ll be caught.” I shrugged, not knowing how else to keep him on the line. Booker gave me the thumbs up.
“The guy’s nuts,” Daddy growled.
“Oh, Daddy, you have no idea.” Cole grinned at me. “There is a small panel under the camera. Press it and a keyboard will drop down. Here’s the code for it.”
“It’s a different code than the other one?” he yelled through a hard coughing spell.
“Yup.” I made up a new set of numbers, noting that we’d been on the phone for three and a half minutes now. “Okay, repeat it back so I can make sure you have it.”
The line was dead. He’d hung up. Everyone turned to Booker. He held up one finger, signaling us to wait. A wide grin cut across his face. “We got it. He’s two miles south of
Laraso, Mexico,” he said directly to me. I nodded as Cole pulled me off the floor and into his arms. I buried my face in my hands, hiding my sorrow over turning my own father in to the police, even if he did deserve to go to jail.
“Hate to leave a party early, but I have a flight to Mexico to catch,” Booker said, tucking his phone in his pocket.
“No! You can’t go down there.” I pulled out of Cole’s arms. “You’re hated among the drug smugglers in Mexico. If you go there, someone’ll kill you. You won’t get out alive.”
“She’s right, Book. This isn’t the first time we’ve heard that.” Seth walked over to Booker, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m not worried. I’ll have my team with me.” As Seth and Booker continued debating whether it was wise for Booker to go, I took Cole aside.
“You can’t let him go. They’ll kill him. I don’t care how many people he takes with him. Birdie said the police in that town are corrupt,” I said,
panicking. “You have to stop him.”
“Maybe I should go too, then,” Seth said. Maggie’s eyes about popped out of her head.
Think fast, girl. You’re a Dreser. Think
!
“Watermelon
, anyone?” I pulled out a shiny cleaver from the butcher block sitting on the counter. With one solid swing I came down hard on the watermelon, brutally slicing it in half. Red juice splashed up onto my white shirt, but more importantly, it splashed Maggie, just like I hoped it would.
I laughed. “Amazing how much watermelon blood looks like real blood, don’t you think?”
“Juice. Watermelon
juice
,” Booker said through his clenched teeth.
“Juice, blood, whatever.” I swung the cleaver down sharply on another wedge. It too splattered not only on Maggie, but all over the counter, running onto the floor.
“I’ll clean up the mess when I’m done, Maggie, don’t worry about it,” I told her as she went for the paper towels. “I’m good at cleaning up messes. No one will ever know there was blood, I mean juice, here. I am a Dreser after all.” I stabbed the melon again. “Knives and messes are our specialty.” I laughed.
Maggie turned to Booker, all smiles. She knew exactly what I was up to. “So if you two go, who’s staying to watch over me?” Both Booker and Seth turned green. I took another whack at the poor melon, butchering it even further. This time Booker cringed at the sound.
Cole must have figured it out because he joined in. “I’ll watch over Mags. I have a gun hidden in a shoebox in the closet. I believe I have some bullets somewhere around here.” He picked up a fork from the counter and tossed it toward the sink, missing it by a mile. “Don’t worry. I’m sure my aim will be better than my throw . . . I hope.”
“Cole, the bullets are in a box on the top shelf of that cupboard over there.” I pointed. “I found them when I was putting away the dishes.” I roughly sliced another chunk of watermelon. Seth jerked this time.
“I guess it’d be better if I stayed in town.” Seth stepped over next to Maggie. She smiled coyly at me.
I brutally stabbed a chunk of melon
and held the watermelon kabob out to Booker. “You should try this. It’s so good. But messy. My shirt’s covered in the bloo-ah, juice.” I laughed. “I still think it looks like watered down blood, don’t you?”
Booker’s eyes narrowed. But I wasn’t finished. “Seth, aren’t you in the middle of finals? Who’s going to watch Maggie while you’re in school?”
“Ignore her,” Booker growled. “She’s just putting on a show. Go ahead, I’ll be right out,” he said to the two cops who’d appeared out of nowhere in the kitchen.
Booker’s tight face turned to me. “Don’t quit your day jobs, either one of you,” he bit out, pointing to Maggie and me. “I know what you’re doing, and it’s a cheap shot. I wouldn’t have expected it from you,” he said to Maggie.
She shrugged, her eyes wide. “Don’t know what you mean, Book.”
“I’m going to Mexico, and this stupid little charade isn’t going to stop me.” He turned to me. “Delilah, are you afraid I’m going to find out you haven’t been completely honest with me? Is that the real reason you don’t want me to go?”
My eyes filled with fire. I brought the knife down on another slice of melon, splattering it everywhere. “Maybe I’m hoping you’ll see through my little act and get your sorry butt on that plane, ASAP, since I’ve set up a pretty good alibi, don’t you think? Everyone here thinks I’m trying to convince you to stay, including the two cops you conveniently sent out to the car.
If
you come back alive, and one or two of your friends are dead, who’d believe it was me after this display?”
Booker started to say something, but stopped. His jaw
tightened in anger. He was torn, and we all knew it.
“Al
l right, I’ll stay for now, but I’ll be getting a full report when
Daddy Dearest
is interrogated.” He turned and stormed out of the kitchen.
“Thank you, Lilah. I didn’t want to leave, but I was afraid to let him go by himself.” Seth gave me a hug. “You’re a formidable little thing.”
“And a lousy watermelon slicer,” Maggie added as we cleaned up the mess. Cole slumped into a kitchen chair, rubbing his forehead.
“Are you okay?” I asked, kneeling down next to him.
“Yes, but I just may break down and take a prescription pain pill tonight.”
“I’m sorry, Cole.” I rubbed at the tension in his shoulders.
“You just saved my friend’s life, Lilah. You have nothing to be sorry about.” He squeezed my hand.
“Seth, will you do me a favor? Will you let the authorities in Mexico know that my father’s ill and needs his meds?” I asked softly. “I know he’s hurt you and Maggie through my brothers, and
me
, but he’s still my father and I love him.”
“Of course,” he promised. “Take Cole into his new room so he can lie down. Mags and I will clean this up.”
Chapter 36
After cleaning up the watermelon fiasco, Maggie and Seth left. Not that I blamed them. Cole and I spent the evening alone at his house trying not to talk about my father, but the conversation just kept coming back to him.
“I should get out of Port Fare, Cole. If I leave, he’ll follow me. He’s dying, you heard how bad he sounds. Daddy’ll spend his last breath trying to find me.”
“No, Lilah. I’m not letting you out of my life.” He wrapped his arms around me as we stared out the living room window, watching a mother bird push her babies out of the nest in an attempt to teach them to fly.
Cole reached into the pocket of his jeans, drew out a small box, and removed a ring. He held it out to me
, a vivid fiery-orange, heart-shaped stone, surrounded by small diamonds.
“It’s a Spessartine
garnet. It took me forever to find the right shade of orange. Do you like it?’
“No,” my voice a whisper. “I love it.” I flew into his arms and we stumbled back a few steps. “Oops. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
He nodded. “I wanted a unique ring for a unique woman. I designed it myself.” He slipped it on my finger. It fit perfectly.
“Lilah, I know this is terrible timing. I hadn’t planned on all this going on today. Let’s just call this a ‘
thank you for decorating the house I want to share the rest of my life with you in’ gift. When you’re ready for it to be more, we’ll call it an engagement ring.” He grinned. “I’m taking those tears as a yes.”
I stiffened slightly. “Cole, you need to think about this. Booker will never accept me, and I don’t want you to lose a friend over me, not one that means as much to you as he does.”
“Booker will have to get over it.” He ran a hand over my hair. “Don’t answer right now. Like I said, the timing’s terrible.”
“‘The course of true love never did run smooth,’” I quoted
, with a trivial smile.
“
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
, Act I, Scene one.” He took my hand. “Come on, I want to show you the other bedroom.”
“You finished the man-cave? I didn’t know you’d started.”
“Call me
Mr.
Spontaneous. Okay, that’s a mild exaggeration, but I’m doing better.” He opened the door and turned on the light. My mouth dropped.
“This is not just your office. This is . . .”
“An artist’s studio. I spoke with the girl at the shop I bought the supplies from before the surgery. She said you could exchange them if they weren’t what you needed. Seth and Maggie set this all up last night.”
Aside from a roll-top desk and some bookshelves for him,
the room held three easels and several different types of paints, including oils, my favorite. Chalks and notepads rested on the desk next to several different brushes.