The Wager (16 page)

E
sther Goodenough's mind was not on her task as she pulled into Tyler Thompson's show room and parked her luxury Mazda sports car. She pulled out Tyler's key to his residence from her pocket and continued on automatic pilot to go pick up Dogzilla and Angus. She managed to pick up the chest from the trunk of the car that Virginia Kelly had asked her to bring to Tyler's residence. Esther allowed herself a stab of jealousy as she thought about the contents of the chest. "They should be well on their way down the freeway," Esther glanced at her watch. She had been told via her a cell phone call from Tyler Thompson that all three vehicles in the convoy to Mexico were leaving several hours before. Esther's mind, however, was on her latest lunch and deep talk with Art Thompson. Esther had been hopefully waiting for Art to move past the chaste kisses he was giving her.

Her heart experienced a combination of warmth and then deep disappointment as Art had finally confided that he thought a lot of her but that he had a medical condition that no longer allowed him sexual intimacy. The information had been such a shock to Esther. Their lively conversations and lunches almost every day since Pegasus had unceremoniously dumped her into the rock and barnacled sand at the dog park had somehow awakened what she had thought were long dead feelings of sexuality. Esther had been hoping for quite some

time that Art was going to move past the warm and intimate kisses that they had been sharing.

"It's too late for me to pull back now," Esther gave a short laugh. Her habitual sense of humour was kicking in. "I absolutely adore the man."

Esther smiled as she stared at the trunk and recalled the joy that Virgie seemed to be getting out of her very hot connection to Frank Simpson.

"Makes me blush," Esther thought jealously as she imagined the vivid picture Virgie was painting when she confided her rather extreme sexual encounters with Frank.

"Perhaps it's a good thing," Esther concluded. "I'm not sure my body at this age could stand up to the things they are doing to themselves." Her sense of humour really kicked in as she continued to think about Virgie and Frank. Esther imagined Virgie's son or daughter discovering her and Frank's secret treasure chest of toys and costumes.

"We'll be having to save Virgie from the Down Memory Lane Care Home too," Esther thought, knowing the narrow mindedness of Virgie's religiously groomed children.

She opened the door and laughed as Dogzilla bolted down the stairs as soon as he saw Pegasus. Little Angus rushed up to her and looked extremely disappointed when he discovered she was not his owner, Bea. He whined and she picked the little dog up in her arms.

"Won't be long," she assured him.

Esther deposited Virgie's trunk in one of Tyler Thompson's bedroom as Virgie had requested.

"I wonder what Tyler's housekeeper will think if she looks inside that," she laughed. "Good thing they keep a lock on it."

Esther vacated Tyler's residence, gathered up the dogs and

started up her luxury Mazda. She headed off to the dog park largely on automatic pilot. She made her decision as she moved into the parking lot.

"Art and I have such a lovely connection. We can talk to each other about anything and it would be lovely to do some travelling with the man."

Esther decided that sex at her age was not all it was cracked up to be anyway. She planted a huge kiss and hug on the uptight stockbroker as he came out of his car to greet her. He broke into a beaming smile and hugged her solidly in return.

"Maybe Viagra would help," Esther thought as Art's closeness aroused again what she had thought were long dead sexual longings. "If not, I'll just have the world's greatest friendship. Arthur's even showing me how to evaluate my stocks on his laptop. This is a win-win situation."

Dogzilla and Pegasus leaped out of the car as Art opened the door. They fell in with Mozart, the Blue Healer, who was waiting for them on the walkway and all three dogs moved beside each other shoulder to shoulder and galloped toward the ocean. Art and Esther followed with Art carrying Angus in his arms. Norm Dixon, watching in his car at the back of the parking lot freaked out.

"Christ, that's Bea Broughton's dog and the mystery Rottweiler."

Norm's mind few into elation at the break in his case. He had all but given up hope that Bea Broughton was alive. He was hugely ashamed of the mess he must have caused at Malcolm Brook's residence.

"All I have to do is follow them back to where the dogs are being kept. Their owners are sure to be there as well."

Two hours later the detective watched as Dogzilla and Angus were returned to Tyler's residence by Art Maloney.

"Hell, the Funeral Home, I should have known." Norm cursed himself for not suspecting the location sooner. He had followed dog walking club members to the Funeral Home several times but had concluded they were just meeting with Tyler Thompson. He waited till Art Maloney headed off and then went into the Funeral Show Room to track down the dogs and their owners.

"Those dogs?" he enquired as a young man came to greet him. "The ones that came in with that fellow a few moments ago?"

"What's it to you?" the employee demanded.

Norm pulled out his Private Detective identification.

"Want to talk to their owners!" he explained.

"Not possible," the young salesman told him. "You'll have to talk to the fellow that brought the dogs in if you want to know something about them. Don't know when he'll be back."

"Where's your boss? I'll speak to him."

"Good luck. He's off to Mexico for several weeks."

Norm Dixon's heart stopped.

"Mexico?"

Norm's intuition kicked into play as the salesclerk told him that his boss had just gone off with a shipment of coffins to Mexico that very morning.

He managed to get the salesperson to reveal the destination of the coffins and the route down.

"Guadalajara, he's going down the freeway and across at the Nogales border crossing, that's all I know."

Norm realised he had to act fast. He went out to his car and headed for the freeway. He picked up his cell phone on the way and made a call.

"Got a strong lead," he told John Broughton. "Good

chance your mother is alive and headed for Mexico. Can I count on you to fund whatever is needed to track her down?"

He waited as he could hear John Broughton tell his wife the latest developments.

"Tell the detective we want him to locate your mother and bring her back to the care home even if he has to do it against her will," Orphelia instructed.

"They know she doesn't want to come back," the detective noted. His anxiety about what he was doing started up again. He started as Orphelia's voice came over the phone.

"There's big bucks in it for you if you bring the woman back to the care home," John Broughton's wife advised.

The large detective had a moment of conscience.

"What if I have to break the law?"

"On hundred thousand for starters," the woman ordered.

"And the expenses?"

"Of course."

The detective suppressed his misgivings.

"I need to go into something else," he rationalized as he hung up the phone. "That money will give me a new start."

Many miles away two large trucks and a motorhome made their way down the freeway toward Mexico making sure to leave enough space for anyone wanting to pass to manoeuvre through them. Tyler Thompson led the way. Honey Pratt and Bourbon were seated next to him while Bea Broughton, Turk O'Brien and Inferno rested in what looked like a large, dog bed complete with pillows in the back of the truck between the coffins. Every time the large truck made a stop Bea and Turk had been told to be alert for sounds of the padlock securing the back door opening, in which case they were to climb into the specially prepared coffins and bring the tops down on themselves.

"We're on our way at last," Turk gave Bea a huge hug as he noted the sadness on her face. "You're thinking of your grandchildren, aren't you?"

"I'll call them as soon as we're in Mexico."

"Of course."

"Maybe John will reconsider."

Turk laughed. "He won't have much of a choice when Malcolm's lawyers get through with him."

Turk looked around the inside of the utilitarian, cargo truck.

"Not the way I wanted to take you on a vacation," Turk apologised.

"I'm so grateful to you and the others," Bea replied.

In the cab in front Tyler and Honey were having a heart-to-heart conversation.

"How's Charlotte taking your going to Mexico?" Tyler drew Honey closer to him and rested one of his arms around her shoulders.

"Not well! I had to tell her I was going with you."

Honey recounted the argument that had occurred when she had told her daughter of the journey. She told Tyler that Charlotte had begged her to see a psychiatrist about her unfulfilled father or authority figure complex. Tyler laughed.

"You're not very daughterly," he complained.

"I know." Honey moved closer to Tyler until he warned her that he needed room to manoeuvre the large truck.

"Later," he promised.

As Honey sighed and allowed him enough space to manoeuvre the truck Tyler marvelled in his mind at the woman he had met so late in life.

"She's everything I've ever wanted," he acknowledged.

Tyler added up all her good qualities. A great sense

of humour was at the top of the list, followed by spirited, attractive, philosophical, responsible, empathetic, good natured, intelligent, fun to be with, and sexually responsive.

"I should have met her years ago," he thought wistfully. "Maybe I would have even had the family I've always wanted."

"Do you think Charlotte would ever accept me as a stepfather?" he blurted out loud.

Tyler laughed as Honey nearly jumped up from the seat in surprise.

"You're missing a step here, Sugar!"

"Just a rhetorical question!" Tyler smiled as Honey looked immensely relieved.

"That Girl? She's rather stepfather challenged, y'all should know. Never did trust my last two suitors, but come to think of it neither did I."

Directly behind Tyler's truck, Malcolm Brooks, Trump and Linda were sitting in that order in the front seat of the second cargo truck. Cleo was in the back of the truck. Every time Malcolm was forced to engage the clutch to shift gears he started to breathe rather heavily as his right lower leg was still in a cast and the movement caused him some pain.

Linda was sitting quietly next to the passengers' window glad that Trump was sitting in between herself and Malcolm. She had no desire to engage in a conversation about his life. She had decided that Malcolm was probably just looking for the next thirty something year old to become involved with, if indeed he did not already have one lined up to be a mother for Monica's child when it was born. Linda was suddenly very weary of her long years of unrequited love and had no wish to experience another disillusionment. However, her wish for silence was quickly ended.

"Trade places with Trump, will you Linda and open the window, he needs some air," Malcolm ordered.

Linda opened the window a hair and switched places with the dog. The large Sheep Dog placed his head at the top next to the opening, gasping loudly. Linda relented and put the window down further. A blast of cold air struck her and she zipped up the sweater she was wearing. Trump put his whole head out the window and panted as he savoured every exotic smell he inhaled. Linda ignored his barking and thrashing as he smelled and then visually sighted his first herd of cattle in a field near the highway.

"This is going to be a long trip," Linda sighed to herself. She wondered how her own dog Cleo was making out in the back of the truck. Malcolm sighed again as he shifted gears several times on a long hill.

"You should switch places with Gus," Linda advised. "The motorhome has an automatic transmission."

"Only if you come with me," Malcolm laughed. "I'm not going to be trapped in a three-bed motorhome with Gloria all the way to Mexico."

The absurdity of the situation struck Linda as funny. Here she was sitting next to Malcolm with a still not completely dead desire to get closer to him while Malcolm appeared oblivious to her intent. Meanwhile he was avoiding Gloria who was apparently oblivious to the fact that Malcolm did not want closeness with her.

"It's like Shakespeare. Midsummer night's Dream." She burst out in a full, roaring laugh, thinking of Gloria's wager.

"What's so funny?"

Linda didn't want to tell him. She switched to another topic.

"You know that Gus and Gloria have an open marriage?"

"Only too well. Gloria has told me about that at least ten times over the years."

"Why do you suppose they do that?"

Linda was shocked as Malcolm told her about Gus and Gloria's relationship. He told her that neither Gloria nor Gus was ever into commitment. That when she and Gus met Gloria had at least six handsome leading men chasing after her and Gus had all his leading ladies chasing after him.

"So?"

"You know the statistics about Hollywood marriages? Most of them end in divorce after anywhere from one day to three years."

"I still don't get it."

Malcolm told Linda that Gus and Gloria had a heart to heart talk when they realised they were in love with each other. Gus told her that the only way a marriage could possibly last for them was to make it an open marriage. That when they found themselves seriously attracted to another they would have the right to have a fling with no questions asked.

"It seems to have worked for them."

"Right. Much better than my own marriage. It only made it through ten years."

"You still miss your ex-wife, don't you Malcolm?"

Malcolm gave out a startle reaction.

"Don't be ridiculous. Why do you say that?"

Linda told him about him calling his wife's name in the ambulance on the way to the hospital the first time.

"I did that? Must have been having a nightmare."

Linda realised he was trying to laugh the incident off rather than confront his past. She told him that it was better to forgive and forget and that sometimes people required a therapist to help them do just that.