Heaven and Hell (34 page)

I shot him a look.

He ignored the look, let me go and took
Memphis from me, lifting her up so they were eye-to-eye.

“You Memphis?” he asked my dog and Memphis
yapped her affirmative while I stared at them thinking that no one,
but no one, but
no one
but Sam could make talking to a King
Charles spaniel eye-to-eye cool.

Sam curled Memphis into one of his arms and
rubbed her head with his other hand, Memphis panted happily and
Sam’s eyes came to me. “She’s cute.”

“Told you that too,” I said softly.

He grinned at me.

“Right!” Mom stated loudly, snapping her
phone shut and instantly shoving it in her bag. “Your father says
the match has been struck, the grill has been lit. This means I
need to get home and man the deep fat fryer. You’ve got half an
hour. Bring your camera.” Her eyes went to Sam. “Very nice to meet
you, Sam and see you in half an hour.” Her eyes swept through the
girls. “Out to the car, Kia has to get ready and iron Sam’s shirt
so we need to leave her to it.”

“I’ll iron your shirt,” Teri offered, her
eyes on his chest and I could be wrong but it looked like they were
glazing over.

“I think I got it, Teri,” I told her.

I watched her body jerk.

“Spoilsport,” she muttered to me on a
grin.

“All right! See you guys in half an hour,”
Paula stated, hooking Teri with an arm and moving to follow Mom who
was already out the door, this because she knew from experience
when Dad was at the grill, the whole world began revolving around
his grill efforts and she was part of that world so she had to get
her ass in gear. “Rudy’s at your Mom and Dad’s. He’s
psyched.
This is gonna be
so fun.
”

“Later!” Teri called on a wave.

“Later!” Paula pulled her out of sight.

“Later, guys,” I called as Sam’s arm curved
around me again and curled me into him and Memphis.

I tipped my head back to look up at him.

We heard the front door close.

“You don’t have to iron my shirt,” he
informed me and I felt my eyes widen in shock at his intimation,
not capable of wrapping my head around the thought of Sam standing
at an ironing board much less ironing.

“Are you going to do it?”

“Fuck no.”

Well, there you go. I couldn’t wrap my head
around it because it wasn’t going to happen.

“Sam, just a reminder, you’re in Indiana,” I
told him. “Mom’s hint was not a hint so much as a command. We’re
considered a couple. I might be flogged if I allow my man to go out
with a wrinkled shirt. I’m jetlagged, feel weird, am about to face
a party where everyone is going to
not
act cool with you so
I’m not in the mood to fit being flogged in that schedule.”

He chuckled and through it offered, “How’s
this? You get ready but tell me where the ironing board is. I’ll
set it up.”

“That’s a plan. The ironing board is in the
mudroom off the kitchen.”

“Right,” he muttered, dropped his head,
kissed my nose, Memphis yapped and then he let me go and strode
from the room, again rubbing Memphis’s head as she panted
happily.

My eyes followed.

Then my brain processed through the last ten
minutes, the brilliant hour before that and the fuzziness of being
in a different time zone and it hit me that he took Memphis with
him while giving her head rubs.

Sam liked Memphis.

Awesome.

I smiled then rushed into the bathroom in
order to accomplish the formidable task of folding fifty minutes
(my mother was not wrong) of getting ready into twenty.

I failed and we were ten minutes late.

They were eating Dad’s brats and Mom’s onion
rings, we arrived with Sam carrying bags filled with the gifts, not
to mention the fact he was Sam, so no one noticed.

I Let You Down

Well, if I didn’t already know that the
internet was prevalent in our society, not to mention people in a
small town talked, the evidence of this would be overwhelming at
Mom and Dad’s barbeque considering how many folks “popped by” to
welcome me home from vacation like I’d come home from a two year
Peace Corps assignment at a location where no communication could
be had instead of being in Europe for five weeks.

At first, this upset me. Sam was not a
museum display and although a few of the folks who “popped by” were
cool, most of them were clearly there for the sole purpose of
seeing him, they were star struck and thus acting like big
dorks.

Sure, it could be said that just two weeks
ago I, too, acted like a big dork when faced with sharing breathing
space with Sampson Cooper but just then, I was jetlagged, tired and
my mother, father and closest friends were meeting my new boyfriend
for the first time and he just happened to be an internationally
known and beloved hot guy. Even at the best of times and with a new
boyfriend who wasn’t an internationally known and beloved hot guy,
this would put me on edge. These weren’t the best of times so I
didn’t have the patience for it.

But as time slid by, it penetrated that Sam
was a practiced hand at this. He was friendly, accepting and had an
ability to make people quickly feel at-ease.

What I didn’t know was if this was taxing
for him.

This was because, almost the minute we hit
my parents’ deck, after Sam met Dad, Missy, Rudy and our elderly
widowed neighbor, Mrs. O’Keefe, Sam deposited me in a chair that
was resting against the siding at the back of my parents’ house,
bent to me and whispered in my ear, “We gotta be outside, you’re
gonna stay right there.”

He lifted his head, looked in my eyes, his
were serious so I nodded.

Clearly, if someone was insane enough to
shoot at me in my parents’ yard during a barbeque, my position as
decreed by Sam gave them a not-so-good shot.

Also clearly, Sam was not taking any chances
with someone being insane enough to shoot me at my parents’
barbeque. That said, to actually
be
a hit man, you had to
have some screw loose so obviously caution was a good way to
go.

So, holding court in my chair at the back
and with Sam called to meet half the town, I hadn’t had a second
even to speak with him much less take his pulse.

Luckily, this died down but I still didn’t
have a chance to make sure Sam was cool. This was because we got
down to the business of a welcome home, everyone looking at the
display on the back of my digital camera as they clicked through
photos, them asking questions, me telling stories and giving out
presents and those who meant the most to me in the world getting
used to having me home and becoming comfortable with Sam.

This was until Ozzie, in uniform, popped by.
I suspected Ozzie was there to see Sam but I also suspected he was
there for other reasons, namely to see if I was still
breathing.

What I
knew
was, the minute Sam saw
him in uniform, got his name and shook his hand, Ozzie’s visit was
going to take on a whole other meaning as defined by Sam.

Ozzie, being Ozzie, clocked this immediately
and as he sat enjoying a Coke, his eyes often strayed to Sam.

Sam, being Sam, didn’t delay in sorting out
what he felt like sorting out.

And this was done at three sips into Ozzie’s
Coke (I counted) with a, “Ford, Sheriff, let’s have a minute inside
with Kia.”

Ozzie sighed, unsurprised.

Dad’s eyebrows shot together and he looked
at Sam then me.

“Is everything all right?” Mom asked.

Since it wasn’t, Sam didn’t answer. What he
did do was get out of his chair next to mine then gently pull me
up.

“All’s well, Essie,” Ozzie muttered, also
straightening out of his chair and Dad followed suit, looking
slightly bemused and not-so-slightly concerned.

“I’ll come with,” Mom decided and popped
up.

Ozzie gave Dad a look, Sam gave Dad a look,
Dad took in these looks and looked at Mom.

“Give me a minute with Oz and Sam, hon.”

“I don’t –” Mom started.

“A minute, Ess,” Dad stated firmly, Mom’s
mouth got tight, her eyes started shooting daggers and I held my
breath because I’d had twenty-eight years of this.

Dad was a man’s man, through and through. He
poured cement for a living. He had his own business doing this, he
did the best job of anyone in three counties and he didn’t employ
slackers and that was known throughout town, maybe even statewide,
seeing as your ass was fired on the spot if he found you not
working to his exacting standards. Also I knew of two bar brawls
he’d gotten into in town though I didn’t know the reasons he had
them but, to me, bar brawls for any reason screamed
man!
He
hunted (even though Mom, and then me when I was old enough to have
and voice my opinion, hated this). Further, interrupting him during
the Super Bowl, the World Series or the NBA playoffs was punishable
by death; I didn’t know this for a fact mainly because I, like
everyone else in my family, never interrupted him. He drank beer,
not wine, not cocktails but if he felt like branching out, he might
drink bourbon but only neat. You didn’t even
look
at the
grill with the intention of using it because that was his domain.
He mowed the lawn, he serviced the cars. And, on occasion, what he
said went.

Mom, on the other hand, although they met
and married relatively young, was independent and strong-willed.
She’d been a Mom and a housewife and still went to night school
when I was a kid so she could get her degree then moved on to get
her Master’s. It took eleven years but she did it. Through this she
worked part-time, finally getting a full-time job in the field
she’d studied, Speech/Language Pathology. Yes, she cooked. Yes, she
cleaned. Yes, in our household, Dad never did any of this. And yes,
she did all this without complaint. But she had a say in her
children’s lives and a definite hand in our upbringing. She might
have been busy but she was not absent.

No, strike that, she had a say and an
opinion about everything and didn’t mind voicing it.

And, on the occasion my Dad had something to
say that he thought went, and Mom disagreed, things could get
hairy.

Like they appeared to be doing now.

Until Sam stepped in.

“I appreciate you’ve cottoned on, Essie,” he
said with quiet understanding. “But there are things I need to
share with the Sheriff and Ford that I need to keep confidential
for now. It’s about what I do. What Ford can share with you, he’ll
share with you later. But I need to be able to be forthcoming and
the fewer people who hear this, the better.”

Although this could only make anyone more
curious, and from the looks on everyone’s faces, they were, Sam’s
rough-like-velvet voice coupled with the quiet understanding could
not be denied, not even by my Mom.

She held his eyes for a scary moment though
but she must have liked what she saw because she sat back down.

Without delay, Sam led me into the house
then stepped aside and when Ozzie and Dad followed, Sam looked at
Dad and muttered, “Private.”

Dad held his eyes this time, nodded then led
the way through the kitchen, into the dining room and through to
the living room. He closed the glass-paned doors to the dining room
and the wood door to the foyer.

When we arrived, staying standing, Sam
wrapped an arm around my chest and pulled the side of my back into
the side of his front and his eyes leveled on Ozzie.

Before he could speak, Ozzie did.

“Know what you’re gonna say, Cooper, and I
get you. The Deputy who took the call from your people heard your
name associated with Kia’s, got excited, shared too much. I can
assure you he did
not
do this with the reporters that called
and I can also assure you he will
not
do this again.”

“That wasn’t cool but that is also not why
we’re standin’ here,” Sam replied and Ozzie’s eyes shot to Dad
before they went back to Sam and he didn’t shake his head “no” but
his eyes screamed it.

Sam shook his head “no” and then explained
it.

“You know he’s gotta know,” Sam said
softly.

“It’s in hand,” Ozzie returned.

“It isn’t,” Sam shot back.

“What’s this about?” Dad asked.

“Cooper –” Ozzie started, leaning into Sam
but Sam turned to Dad.

“Sorry, Ford, this is going to come as a
shock –” he began but Ozzie interrupted him.

“Cooper, I don’t advise –”

Sam looked to Ozzie. “Due respect and
understand, Kia has told me about you, she cares about you, she
trusts you and she’s explained you’re a friend of the family so
when I say due respect, I mean it. But with this, you are not
makin’ the right decisions.”

“I got experience, son,” Ozzie retorted. “I
know what I’m doin’.”

“Yeah, you do then look me in the eye and
tell me since she got on a plane and until you heard Kia hooked up
with me that you slept good at night,” Sam volleyed.

Ozzie snapped his mouth shut.

“What is… goin’…
on?
” Dad bit out,
eyes narrowed, body tight.

“Shit,” Ozzie muttered.

Sam looked back at Dad. “Jeff Clementine and
Vanessa Cloverfield hired a hit man to take out Kia.”

My body was already tight through the
preliminaries but it got tighter at these words.

“Yeah, this isn’t news,” Dad said, again
perplexed.

“No, Ford,” Ozzie put in quietly. “They
didn’t conspire to do it, they
did
it.”

Dad took a step back, his face going pale. I
made to move away from Sam and go to him but Sam’s arm tensed and I
couldn’t get away.

Dad was staring at Ozzie and he whispered,
“What?”

“Vanessa pawned a bunch of stuff and talked
Milo into gettin’ a second mortgage on their house, sayin’ she
wanted a new kitchen or somethin’. They found a broker who hooked
them up with a man who could do the job they wanted done. They made
contact, they paid and the hit was placed on Kia,” Ozzie
explained.