Home Free by Sonnjea Blackwell

The
plumbing in the bathrooms was done, and he had started on the leaks
in the roof. The doorbell and the bedroom floor were still on the
list, along with the annoying squeak. It was dark by the time the
game ended, and I had to admit I’d had a good time.
    In the truck on the way home, he said, “I
like you, Alex. I’ve liked you ever since the first time we did it
in the orchard.” He grinned. “Seriously, though, I don’t want to
get in the middle of anything, so if there’s something going on
between you and Salazar, you need to let me know.”
    Hunh. First someone was going to have to let
me know. “We’re friends, I think. I hadn’t seen him for years till
the other day. He’s in this mess with my brother, and obviously I
think they’re both innocent, but other than that, there’s
nothing.”
    Big fat liar.
    When we pulled up to my house, my brother’s
motorcycle was gone, but Pauline’s car was still parked on the
street. Jack parked in the driveway and helped me lever myself out
of the Ford. I had already made up my mind I wasn’t going to invite
him in again. I’d asked once, and he had declined. If he wanted to
come in, he was going to have to do the asking this time. I may
have been desperate, but I sure as hell wasn’t ready to be a
charity case. I pulled the key from my purse, but before I could
put it in the lock, Jack took it, unlocked the door and opened it.
He hesitated.
    “Does the offer still stand?”
    I thought about it, but only for a second.
Hell, it was a big damn truck.
    “Absolutely.”
     
    Jack kissed me on the neck when he left at
five the next morning. I stretched and thought I might purr. Sex
with Jack was like conversation with Jack -- easy, comfortable and
pleasant. Maybe nothing to write home about, but a damn sight
better than the shower massage.
    The next time I looked at the clock, it was
eight-thirty. Some ideas had percolated to the surface of my brain
sometime during the night, and I was eager to check them out. The
main thing that was bothering me was Lonnie Chambers. Jimmy C had
said the cops were going with the theory that Chambers had stumbled
into the arson in progress, and had simply been shot to keep him
quiet. But what if it was the other way around? What if somebody
wanted Chambers dead and then just set the fire afterwards as a
distraction, or to destroy the evidence?
    I threw on a robe and padded into the kitchen
and started a pot of decaf coffee, then fixed myself an egg white
omelet. I don’t usually do the health food thing, but after the hot
dog and pizza yesterday, I thought it prudent to take a cholesterol
break. I took my cup and plate into the office and checked my phone
for messages. Debbie had returned my call, and there were two
hang-ups. I turned on the computer and looked outside while I
waited for it to boot up. Pauline’s car was gone. The gray Escort
was nowhere in sight. A man in a baseball cap jogged by, looking at
my drought-bedraggled landscape. I sat down and checked my email.
The Garden Tour people had requested one minor change. I got some
offers to buy Viagra over the internet, and something about farm
girls. I deleted those, since I knew several farm girls and wasn’t
keen to see them in a whole new light. I made the change to the
poster before I had a chance to forget and sent the file off. Then
I went back to the online white pages. I had to try a couple
different searches, but I finally found what I was looking for. I
copied the information down on a piece of paper, finished my eggs
and went to shower.
    Twenty minutes later, dressed in jeans, a red
tank top and red Converse sneakers, my wet hair in a ponytail and
wearing no makeup, I was out the door. The cat from hell appeared
out of nowhere, twisting its oversized body around and between my
ankles. I gave it a shove with my foot, and it purred. Retarded, I
thought. I walked around it to the car and had my hand on the door
handle when I heard Debbie’s voice behind