02-A Book to Die For (2014) Read online

  Julie laughed at my remark, but it didn’t seem to faze our waiter. “Our special tonight is a tender veal-Parmesan covered in a spicy-tomato sauce and served on a bed of vermicelli,” he said, in a phony Italian accent while handing me a menu. “And if I may suggest the Montepulciano. You will find the full-bodied flavor a perfect complement to the hand-chosen herbs and spices our chef uses in all our pastas.”

  Julie raised her glass in a toast. “You should try this wine, Jake. They import it all the way from California,” she said, suppressing a giggle.

  “Can I get a bottle of beer? Nothing fancy, Bud or Coors will do,” I said, still trying to get the waiter to show some emotion. “Oh, and I don’t need a glass.”

  Julie held her hand to her face. I could see by the lines in her forehead that she was trying not to laugh.

  “Do you think I’m over dressed?” I asked after the waiter left. “Maybe that’s why he wouldn’t smile.”

  “You made me smile, Jake,” she said, taking a sip of wine. The dim light from a nearby lamp caught the crystal perfectly, playing across her beautiful face. “You have no idea how I needed that after the day I’ve had.”

  “Your boss?” I asked.

  Her smile turned to a frown. “What a prick. You’d think he’d be happy I tried to recruit you. He’s always harping about the budget. I find some free labor and all he can do is recite the riot act about you getting hurt on the job and suing us.”

  “Forget about him, Julie. Tell me how to track down that camera. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

  She started to say something else, then stopped short and looked beyond me. Our waiter was back and just in time. I really needed my beer.

  “Have you decided?” he asked, not bothering with the accent.

  I twisted off the cap on the bottle he had placed on the table without opening it. I waited for Julie to go first while I took a long swallow. Somehow I knew she would prefer to order for herself. She ordered the special.

  “I’ll have the same,” I said when it was my turn.

  “You’re a sweetheart, Jake,” she said after our waiter left. “But I’ve worked too hard and given up too much to get where I am. I can’t jeopardize it all just to save the department a few dollars.”

  Her response almost didn’t register. I had been watching her talk and was nearly hypnotized by the way her lips turned up at the corner when she spoke.

  “Hello. Earth to Jake. Did you hear anything I said?”

  “Sorry. I was counting freckles.” Her hand went to her face self-consciously and I swear she blushed, although it was hard to tell with her complexion.

  “Do you think it’s possible to fall in love at first sight?”

  “With freckles?” she asked.

  “Yes, freckles and all. Now if you don’t answer pretty soon, I’m going to be the one who’s embarrassed.”

  Suddenly the room seemed to go quiet and the temperature drop twenty degrees. None of it actually happened, but it sure felt that way. I knew her answer from the sadness in her eyes.

  “I can’t do this to you, Jake. I should have told you instead of making up that stupid excuse of being on a date.”

  “You didn’t have a date?” It sounded stupid the minute I said it. I should have asked what she meant, but was too surprised about her confession.

  “No. I was too tired,” she answered. The woman who could stare down a raging bull wouldn’t look at me. “I didn’t think it would ever come to this.”

  A thousand thoughts went through my mind trying to guess what she was talking about. This time I kept my mouth shut and just waited until she looked up from the table into my eyes. She had real tears pouring down her cheeks.

  “I’m dying, Jake. It was in remission for two years, but the cancer has come back.”

  I reached across the table and took her hands in mine. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you, Julie. I’ll help you beat it. I’ll sell my house or even my soul if that’s what it takes to get you well again.”

  “Damn. Why did you have to go and fall in love with me?”

  I took the back road past Red Rocks and through Morrison so I could lick my wounds. I had plenty of time to think on the way home. Julie had regained her composure after a short trip to the ladies’ room and told me the rest of the story. She had been diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma six years ago. She had already outlived the average patient and her doctors thought she had beat it, but the fevers and fatigue were back. She was confident she could recover, but like before, it would take serious chemotherapy, which she didn’t want me to see her go through.

  Julie wanted to tell me more, but our annoying waiter interrupted with our meals and she changed the subject after he left. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore and made small-talk all through dinner. She even insisted on picking up the tab before we left, claiming she could write it off. In the end, I became nothing more than a business expense since she never once said she loved me too.

  The town of Kittredge was a blur in my mirror when I gave Bonnie a call.

  “Wow, Jake. Do you have ESP or is my place wired? I was just talking about you.”

  “Neither, Bon Bon, but I do need a drink and a friendly face to talk to. I’m on my way home. I should be there in a few minutes to get Fred. How about I stop by the liquor store and pick up some beer?”

  “I’ve got a better idea, Dear. Meet us at Little Bear. I’ll drop Fred off at your place and come down to meet you.”

  “Consider it a date, Sunshine. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.” The ‘us’ didn’t register until after I hung up.

  Bonnie couldn’t have picked a worse place for a quiet drink. The Little Bear was packed when I got there. I passed the place three times trying to find a parking space. The lot across the street was out of the question since they had raised their prices for the coming tourist season. I finally found a spot up the road by the lake and walked back to the bar. I found Bonnie sitting at a far table talking to an overweight man whose back was to me. I knew who it was even without the oxygen tank next to him.

  “It’s okay, Jake, he won’t bite.” Bonnie was beaming. “Sit down, Charlie would like to buy you a beer. Wouldn’t you Chuck?”

  I heard him mumble something when I took the seat at the end of the table. It was a small rectangle of a table with one end up against the wall, leaving only enough room for three chairs. My chair was sticking out in what little room passed as an aisle between it and the crowded table next to us.

  “What do I owe the pleasure to, Charlie? You have another restraining order you wanted to deliver personally?”

  Chuck’s expression didn’t change. I suppose after selling cars for forty years, his phony smile couldn’t have been more set in place if it had been chiseled on his face.

  “Shelia is willing to drop her suit if you will sign a little document for us. I thought it’d be better to meet you in person; you know, man to man, and keep the DA out of it.”

  “The DA? What the hell does the district attorney have to do with anything? When did this become a criminal case?”

  Bonnie reached over and held my hand to the table. “Please, Jake. He’s only trying to do what’s best for everyone.” Her touch had its intended effect. I unclenched my fist and felt my blood pressure drop several points.

  The conversation at the table next to us had gone silent. Bonnie must have noticed too. She turned in their direction and delicately showed them her middle finger. “Hear him out, Jake, he’s trying to apologize,” she said after our neighbors went back to whatever they had been discussing.

  “It’s not an apology!” Chuck said with a voice louder than usual. His chiseled face was starting to erode with streaks of red.

  “Sorry,” Bonnie replied. “Guess I had a little too much to drink again.”

  Chuck checked on the table next to us then shifted his large mass back to face me and pushed a formal looking document toward me. “Here’s the deal, Jake. Lonnie left Sheli
a some insurance. It had a double indemnity clause. I don’t suppose you know what that means…”

  I cut him off, “I’m not an idiot, Chuck. It pays double if he dies in an accident.”

  “Or negligent homicide,” he continued. “The insurance company says he died of heart failure and is fighting payment. My lawyers say if they can prove he died because of your negligence, they can beat the insurance company. So sign this affidavit saying you screwed up, or my friends down at the courthouse will be charging you for manslaughter. Personally, I’d rather see you spend the next twenty years in jail, but Bonnie called in a favor to save your sorry ass.”

  Once more the people at the next table quit talking and were all ears. Bonnie was getting ready to flip them off again when a guy with a long-gray ponytail and leather vest came over and put his hand on my shoulder.

  “Don’t do it, Bud,” he said.

  The whole bar went silent. Except for Johnny Paycheck telling his boss where to put his job, you could hear a mouse fart. Scenes from a bad biker movie ran through my head. Should I hit the guy or run? I didn’t have to decide. Before I could act he reached into his back pocket and brought out a wallet tied to a chain on his belt.

  “I work for a law firm in Littleton during the week. From what I’ve heard so far, it sounds like you need a lawyer.”

  Then a heavyset woman with streaks of gray grabbed my new friend by the arm. “Bobby, we need to go.”

  Bobby ignored her and turned to Chuck. “You should know better, Mister Randolph. Those kinds of tactics might work in your showroom, but you’re treading on coercion.”

  Bobby’s girlfriend, or whoever she was, kept pulling him away. “Come on, Bobby, my mom ain’t gonna watch the kids all night.”

  “Call me before you sign anything, Pal,” he said while his woman dragged him away. It wasn’t long before their friends got up and left too.

  I took a slow, drawn-out look at the card the lawyer had given me. People at the other tables went back to their own little dramas or whatever they were discussing before we had taken center stage.

  “Nice try, Chuck,” I said, looking up once I felt it was time. “If all this were over a car you were trying to sell me, I’d tell you to take your deal and shove it, just like the song. But forcing me to admit I’m guilty of something I didn’t do is not another car deal. So here’s my deal, and I don’t give a rat’s ass if you like it or not. There’s negligence alright, but not because of me. I’ve got proof that Lonnie’s death was no accident. I’m going to talk to this lawyer tomorrow and press a suit of my own for your constant harassment, intimidation, and collusion.”

  Both Chuck and Bonnie looked at me with their mouths open. I didn’t wait for a response. I threw a ten dollar bill on the table and walked out. I had plenty of time to consider my words on the walk to my Jeep. I didn’t know if intimidation and collusion were legal terms or not, but they sure sounded good at the time.

  I expected to hear from Bonnie on my way home asking what proof I had that Lonnie’s death was not an accident. I even stopped off at the liquor store between the church and Safeway, giving her time to call before I’d lose my cell signal going up the canyon. At least that was the excuse I gave myself. Truth be told, I really needed a beer.

  Bonnie’s call never came, so I decided to drive by her place on the way home. I had the bright idea to apologize by sharing my twelve-pack. Her place wasn’t that far out of the way of my normal route. We both lived on Columbine Circle, but I usually didn’t pass her house because she was on the left fork, which took longer than going the other way. Either way worked, so tonight I turned left instead of right. She must not have come home yet. Her car wasn’t in the drive and the place was completely dark. However, I could see up the hill to my cabin. Someone was up there who wasn’t supposed to be. Unless Fred had learned to turn on my lantern by himself, I had another intruder.

  Chapter 11

  Not wanting to alert whoever was in my cabin, I drove past Bonnie’s until I was out of sight then parked my Jeep. From there I walked back to her house and climbed the path between our two houses. The intruder could have a weapon, so I needed to surprise whoever it was. My defense was a twelve-pack of beer and an aspen stick I found on the trek up the hill.

  My cabin is built on a slope with a walkout basement. I stopped to catch my breath when I reached the lower level. I was breathing in and out faster than an air compressor. Once I could hear above the noise of my lungs, I heard someone talking. Did this guy like to talk to himself, or was there more than one intruder?

  My weapons were no match for a pair of burglars. I decided to sneak around to my motor home where I could at least get a large knife to defend myself. I barely made it to the coach’s door when I was blinded by a powerful beam of light coming from my cabin.

  “Whoever is sneaking around out there, I’ve got a gun and a guard dog.”

  “It’s me, Bonnie. Jake,” I answered, recognizing her voice. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

  “Gave you a heart attack? What about me and Fred?” She no sooner said his name than I heard him bark and come running to me.

  Fred was so happy to see me, he nearly knocked me over. He could almost put his paws on my shoulders when he stood on his hind legs. I grabbed his head between my hands and bent down to hug him the best I could.

  “Did you miss your dad, old Boy?”

  “I should have known it was you.” Bonnie had followed Fred over to the motor home. “He’s been wagging his tail ever since you came snooping around down below. What the hell was that all about anyway?”

  Fred gave up trying to wash my face and sat down by my feet. I petted him one more time, then looked over at my neighbor. “I thought someone broke in. Let’s go back inside. I’ll tell you all about it over a beer.”

  Bonnie and I nearly finished off the twelve-pack in no time with a little help from Fred. I poured a few ounces in a bowl, but it wasn’t the same as pouring it on the cedar deck boards. The beer didn’t produce the bubbles he loved to bite. Somewhere between the third and fourth beers I told her about my breakup with Julie.

  “She has cancer?”

  “Hodgkin’s,” I said then opened another beer for both of us.

  She finished the beer she had been drinking and took a new one. “Why didn’t you just hug her and kiss her and tell her it’s okay? Girls like that sort of thing, you know.”

  “I tried, Bon. Believe me, I really tried.”

  Bonnie took a deep drink, then looked at me with tears in her eyes. “You should’ve kissed her anyway.”

  We were sitting at my table, so I reached for a paper towel from a roll I had on my kitchen counter and handed it to her. “Okay. I told you my story, now it’s your turn.

  After wiping her face, she told me how Chuck had fooled her into the meeting at Little Bear. She swore she had no knowledge of the affidavit. She truly believed he wanted to apologize.

  She had taken her Bronco to his dealership for servicing earlier. Margot picked her up so they could go shopping at the mall while her car was being worked on. Chuck was waiting for her when she returned to pick it up. He said they had to keep the car overnight and offered to give her a ride home. That was when he tricked her into the meeting at Little Bear.

  I had a hard time trying to decide whose side she was on. She kept quizzing me about the evidence I said could prove Lonnie’s death was not my fault. I think it was after beer number five or six that I let it slip about the propane tank.

  Fred let me sleep in the next morning. It was nearly noon when Bonnie called to ask me if I could give her a ride into town. Chuck wasn’t so eager to drive back up the mountain now that he got what he wanted from her. He did say he would have someone bring her the Bronco, but it might be a day or two before his service manager could schedule it.

  “No hurry, Jake. I’ve got some things to do before we go. Is this afternoon okay with you?” she asked.

  Fred woke and begged to be let out.


  “No problem, Bon. Fred wants out, so I think I take him for a hike. Call when you’re ready.”

  After having second thoughts about the hike, I left the door open so he could come back in on his own. I doubt if his hangover came close to the way I was feeling. I have no idea how much alcohol a dog can tolerate, but it had to be more than a few laps of the tongue. His bowl was barely touched. That became apparent when I tripped over it and spilled it on the floor.

  Fred was back in time to hear a few choice cuss words. Lucky for me, I chose a dog for a pet instead of a parrot. The spill would soak into my floors by the time I fetched the mop from the storage shed next to my motor home. I had left it there after cleaning up from the first break-in. I decided to do the next best thing and tried to get Fred to clean up for me.

  “Come and get your breakfast, Fred,” He didn’t move from the doorway. “I’m sorry, Freddie. I didn’t mean to swear at you.” He still didn’t budge, so I went into the kitchen and got a hot dog out of my cooler. I broke it into several small pieces and spread them in the puddle.

  Robovac sprang into action and devoured the hot dog, then lapped up the rest of the mess. It soon became evident that my four-legged vacuum cleaner was making the mess worse. Now, instead of a puddle of beer, I had dog spit on my floor. It was time to fetch the mop.

  That’s when I discovered any hope of beating Chuck’s vendetta to hang me was gone. Besides the mop and a few garden tools, I had also put Jonathan’s propane bottle in the shed. I knew before I opened the door that the tank would be gone. The latch on my storage shed had been pried from the door with the lock still intact. Whoever broke in found it much easier to rip it off the door than to break the lock.

  “What the f..,” I said when I confirmed its absence. This time I caught myself before finishing the cuss word. “Why would your aunt Bonnie steal our tank?” Fred had followed me to the shed, presumably looking for more hotdogs.