2 Big Apple Hunter (20 page)

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Authors: Maddie Cochere

BOOK: 2 Big Apple Hunter
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“I haven’t heard anything about it,” I told her. “What’s going to happen to them?”

She didn’t answer
.
“What are you doing right now?
” she asked.

“Nothing at the moment,” I hedged. “Why?”

“How about meeting me at Bud’s in an hour. We can talk there,” she said.

I hesitated for a moment. Detective Bentley wanted me to stay locked indoors, but staying alone in the apartment would only intensify my angst, so I agreed to meet her. “Ok, Sam, I’ll see you there.”

Bud’s is a little hole-in-the-wall bar only a few minutes down the street from the racquetball club. It would be good to fill Samantha in on my situation and get her perspective. I knew I could trust her, and I wanted to know what she would do if she were me.

When I arrived, she was already sitting at the far end of the bar. I perched on the stool beside her, and she leaned over to give me a hug. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” she said.

“I know,” I said hugging her back. “I feel the same way.”

Bud walked over to us and asked, “What’ll it be girls?”

“Shots,” said Samantha. “Something strong
,
and keep ‘em comin’.” I raised my eyebrows at her. “Bud
wil
l call a cab for us if necessary,” she said with a little smile.

“Ok, what’s up?” I asked her. “Why are you so upset?”

She hung her head for a second
,
then looked up
and sighed. “Well, it was funny at the time,
” she said. “B
ut Larry and the guys are facing fines of up to $2,000.00 each and six months in jail. Those nasty Blakelys next door are pushing the issue and wanting the maximum penalty. Now, Larry wants to move, and I don’t know if I can talk him out of it.”

Bud set the first two shots on the bar. We threw them back. Whatever it was tasted awesome. It was sweet and tart at the
same time and went down
smooth with no burn at the back of my throat.

“Sam, I’m
sorry,” I said
reaching over to pat her
arm. “Good grief, there’s no way the Blakelys saw anything but naked butts running down to the lake. Did the guys walk naked back up to the house?” I asked her.

“No,” she said while shaking her head. “When the police showed up, I sent Connie into the house for towels, and they all wrapped themselves up before coming out of the water. The Blakelys are hateful people and just won’t let this go.”

Bud set two more shots down on the bar. We threw them back.

“What about all
of
the pictures you took?” I asked her. “Did you get any full frontals?”

“Nope,” she said shaking her head. “They were in front of me and running away from me all
of
the time. Even when I turned around to get pictures of
Lou and Jeff, they passed by me
so quickly, I only got their behinds.”

“Sam, I think that’s your defense,” I told her excitedly. “Show the judge all of the pictures. You were taking s
o many it has to be obvious
there wasn’t anything worse going on than a moon. That horrible Mrs. Blak
ely has been telling people we
had a naked orgy.”

Her
eyes lit up. “That’s a good idea,
” she said, “
because I’m not moving. Larry and I are
arguing over
this, and we never fight. I love where we live, and I’m not letting mean and nosy neighbors force me out of my home.”

“I agree,” I said nodding my h
ead
. “Fight this, Sam. You and Larry both need to fight this. Everybody
at the party will testify
they didn’t see anything.”

“Did you?” she asked me.

I tried to contain a smile. “Well, they did come running right at me from around the garage. I couldn’t help but to take a look at Ron. He’s such a player, and I’ve
always
wondered what he’s selling to all the girls.” I could no longer contain the huge smile and the accompanying blush.

Her mouth fell open in astonishment, but only for a m
oment
, and she burst out laughing. “I was thinking the same thing
,” she said
,

and I tried
hard to get a look at him, but never did see. What’s he like?”

Bud set two more shots on the bar. We threw them back.

“They’re getting their money’s worth,” I said. We both broke out into unco
ntrollable laughter. I saw
Bud
turn
his back to us, but not before I caught him laughing with us. We were obviously entertaining him tonight.

Before I knew it, my laughter nearly turned to tears. Why does that happen? I needed to pull us back to more important matters. I lowered my voice and said, “Samantha, I really need to talk to you about something.” I never call he
r Samantha, and I could see
alarm in her eyes. She knew something was wrong.

“It’s way too long of a story,” I told her, “but let
me
give you the short
version.”

I filled her in on our trip to New York, what happened with the necklaces, the thieves at the theater, and my confrontation with Mrs. Ross. Several shots later, she had most of the information, and
I told her
I was going to meet Indiana Jones and Mrs. Ross at the Smokey Bridge at 7:00 tomorrow evening.

“We need to come up with a plan,” I told her.

I don’t dare involve the police, at least not at first. I can’t risk anything happening to Darby.”

We were both quiet while we
thought for several minutes. “How about this?” she proffered. “I can drop you off at the park, and then I’ll leave. You can walk down to the bridge by yourself. That way, if they’re watching, they’ll know you’re alone. I’ll call Dick down at the station as soon as I leave and tell him where you are and what’s happening. The police should then be able to cover every road out of the area in time to catch these people when they try to leave. You and Darby will be safe at the bridge.”

Bud set two more shots on the counter. We threw them back.

“Sam, that sounds perfect. I think that could work. The criminals get caught with the necklace, and Darby will be safe with me at the bridge. You’re a genius,” I said as I gave her a big hug.

The side door was suddenly flung open with a bang, and a gruff voice yelled, “Where are they?”

 

Chapter Twelve

 

It was Husky, and he was mad! He marched over to me and Samantha and
barked,
“Get up!”

What was he so mad about? I picked up my purse, stood up, turned to face him, and my legs gave out from under me. I nearly slammed to the floor, but Husky caught me just in time. I started to giggle. Samantha stood up and nearly went down herself. Husky grabbed her with his other arm. She, too, started laughing.

I couldn’t believe I couldn’t stand up. I felt fine sitting on the stool talking with Samantha, but the minute I stood up and looked around, I felt like I had been hit with a bomb.

Husky’s face was beet red as he turned to Bud and
bellowed
, “What have they been drinking and how many?”

“Kamikazes, eight each,” Bud said with
a huge smile. “It’s been
entertaining.”

That was a kamikaze? I could see why. It really snuck up on you.

“Put it on my tab,” Husky hollered at Bud. He had me under one arm, Samantha under the other, and he
literally dragged
us out to his truck. He opened the passenger door and hoisted Samantha up into the seat. Then he pushed me up and in beside her and slammed the door shut.

When he got in on the driver’s side, the big lecture started. “What’s the matter with you two? You missed your court time, and you missed your lessons wit
h me. When Corey said your cars were down here
, I knew you were tying one on. You’re not going to start sitting around drinking, you hear me?” He was
really
yelling now.

“Ok, Dad,” I said sarcastically.

Husky’s face turned even redder if that was possible. “Susan Hunt
er, don’t you get smart with me,” he yelled. “
I care about you, and you could be a great racquetball play
er if you’d put your mind to it
.”

He pulled up in front of the racquetball club and reached across both of us
to push the passenger door
open. Then he shoved us. I was too rubbery to catch myself, and I pitched out of the truck onto the pavement hands first, knees next. My palms were immediately scraped and slightly bleeding. My Levis had protected my knees, but they hurt and would surely be bruised. Samantha tumbled out on top of me. At least I broke he
r fall. We both sat
in the parking lot and laughed uncontrollably again.

I don’t know how, but we ended up on the sofa in the office. Samantha at one end, me at the other, and I’m pretty sure we passed out, because I didn’t
actually remember
going to sleep.

Sometime over the course of the evening, I was vaguely aware of Larry coming in and hauling Samantha away. At 1:00 A.M., Ron came in, roused me, and said, “Come on, Sleeping Beauty. It’s my job to get you home safely.”

I tried to sit up
. I
groaned
. My head hurt
, and my eyes wouldn’t focus. I never drink too much. I’m never drunk. How could a drink be so smooth and allow you to feel good for so long before it kicked you
in the butt? I told myself
I would try to remember to look up a kamikaze to see what was in it, and then never drink another one again.

Ron helped me into his Grand Cherokee. He practically had to carry me up the stairs to my apartment. I managed to find
the keys in my purse and hand
them to him. He opened the door and
walked me in, making sure
I was upright. I was
tired, and everything was going around in circles. I just wanted to go to bed.

I felt Ron close against me. Really close against me. He had his arms around me, and was pulling me close to him. I raised my arms to push him away, but they didn’t have any strength in them.

“What do
you think, Susan?” he asked
while his hands were starting to roam.
“You think it’s time we check
to see if we can work some magic together?”

I managed to get my eyes open wide, shook my head, and squeaked out, “No.”

He smiled
and said, “Ahh, I wouldn’t take adva
ntage of you like this anyway, but y
ou can
’t blame a guy for askin’. I
like you, Susan, and if you ever get rid of Mick for good, I’d like to see you – just you, nobody else.”

Oh my gosh! Why was he doing this to me now? Ron and I had been friends for a long time, and even though I knew he was a heavy hitter, he had never made a pass at me before. Would this day never end?

I tried to move to the living room. Ron stopped groping, helped me to t
he sofa, and covered me
with my grandmother’s afghan. He let himself out, locking the door behind him.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

I
awoke
at 9:00. I was still on the sofa; the afghan had slipped to the floor. I sat up and looked around trying to remember why I had gone to sleep on the sofa. My mind instantly kicked into gear, and I thought about Darby. I had to get him back safely today. The post office opened
thirty
minutes ago, and I wanted to
be
there soon to pick up the necklace.

I stood up fully prepared for a wicked hangover, but I felt fine. I even shook my head and turned
around. Nothing. What kind of
drink knocks you on your butt, but doesn’t come with a hangover? Amazing.

I realized my
knees
and
hands hurt. I looked at my palms; they were scraped and dirty. I sighed. I didn’t know if I should call Husky and yell at him, thank him, or apologize to him. I’d figure
it
out later.

I hopped in
to
the
shower and took extra time
letting the
warm water flow over me
. My nerves had me so
on edge,
a chill had seeped into my bones.
After blow-drying my hair and applying my usual mascara and lip gloss, I pulled on a pair of straight-leg, gray corduroys and a soft, pink v-neck sweater. I didn’t want to succumb to my black mood again today. The pink wo
uld help to keep my spirits up
for what was ahead of me. I slipped into white Nikes and grabbed my beige button-down jacket with a high collar. The outfit looked good, and I was feeling better. I could do this today, and by tomorrow
,
everything would be back to normal.

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