Play Dead (21 page)

As if reading my thoughts, Mom shook her
head. “Remember, I knew Hannah Jones. It simply isn’t possible. She lived as a
law-abiding citizen all her life. She had more than enough money, no
dependents, and not much longer to live. She would never risk injuring Sage.”

“Maybe the food wasn’t actually tainted
till Beth Gleason got it, then. It could have been a coincidence that Sage took
to preferring Shakespeare’s dog food. Maybe that’s what gave Beth’s boyfriend
the idea to taint the dog food and feed Sage the contraband.”

“Shakespeare?”

“The dog owned by the people who gave Sage
up for adoption after Hannah was killed.”

“This is all very farfetched.”

“So’s everything regarding Sage. I’m
calling the detective in charge of the investigation and telling him my theory.”

“I’m sure he’ll be appreciative.”

Ignoring Mom’s sarcasm, I dialed and spoke
at length with the detective. Though he was very polite, it struck me that he
was exceedingly so. I got the uncomfortable feeling that the moment we hung up,
he announced to his peers, “I got me a loony, guys! This crazy broad’s got a
theory about smuggling and wants me to pressure some poor slob who’s just lost
his girlfriend!”

Mom was listening to my end of the
conversation and undoubtedly noticed my pink cheeks. Nonetheless, she said, “You
didn’t answer my question about my taking permanent ownership of Sage.”

“As far as I know, no one else has a
legitimate legal claim to him, so unless one surfaces, he’s yours.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t keep him with
me or at yet another place till whoever did this is under arrest, though.”

“Now that that matter’s out of the way, let’s
head back to your house and get the rest of your things, shall we?”

We drove to my house in her truck, this
time leaving the dogs at home so we could use all of the covered truck bed for
my stuff. En route, I filled her in at great length about Kaitlyn and my
troubles with her. When we reached the house, I got my key ready, but the door
was open, though I didn’t spot Kaitlyn’s car out front. My senses immediately
leapt to red alert. Was Bill Wayne trespassing again?

To my surprise, Kaitlyn was seated in the
living room. Her smile faded a little at the sight of me and my mom. “Hi,” she
said. “Are you moving back in?”

“No, I’m here to finish moving out.”

My mom stepped in between us.

“This is my mother. She’s going to help me
pack the rest of my stuff.”

“Hello, Kaitlyn. I’m sorry things didn’t
work out between you and my daughter. You have a nice little place here.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Babcock,”
said Kaitlyn, demonstrating the charm and self control that had duped me in the
first place. “This is so ridiculous. I need a roommate, and we got along great.
Tell her not to do this.”

Mom took a seat on the opposite side of
the couch from Kaitlyn, but reached over and patted her knee. “You and I need
to have a little talk, woman to woman.”

Kaitlyn shot a desperate glance my way.
Not about to help, I asked, “Where’s your car, Kaitlyn?”

“I parked in the back alley. In case Bill
comes by, I wanted to surprise him.”

“That’s what I want to talk to you about,”
my mom began. “Is it true that you haven’t even changed the locks since your
husband moved out almost three years ago?”

“Yes, but...why should I change the locks?
I’m hoping we’ll reconcile.”

“You need to protect yourself. You have no
idea what changes your husband might have gone through since he left you. What
if he’s become violent?”

“Bill? That’s ridiculous!”

“Was it ridiculous when he implied to my
daughter that you badly injured a dog the two of you owned?”

“No. I mean, yes. I...don’t know. We never
owned a dog. I still don’t know what Bill meant. Maybe Allida just...
misunderstood him.”

“Or maybe Bill was lying. Regardless of
your personal history, do you really want to trust a man who would accuse you
of something like that to have the keys to your house?”

Kaitlyn seemed to deflate. She mumbled, “No,
I guess not.” Mom had her over the barrel. If Bill was telling the complete
truth about her and their dog, she couldn’t admit it. I felt a little sorry for
her. In dealing with my mother, she was hopelessly overmatched.

Wanting to take the coward’s way out and
not have to witness anymore of this, I started to head for the kitchen to begin
packing my things. The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” I cried.

My heart leapt at the sight of Keith
Terrington at my door. Good Lord, he was handsome, wearing tight, faded denims
and a forest green turtleneck. “Hi, Allida. I’m sorry to come over uninvited.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“I don’t live all that far from here and
thought I’d swing by, just in case. There’s something I have to talk to you
about right away.”

“Come on in. We’re in the midst of moving
my stuff out.”
This was convenient,
I thought. I’d give my mother a
chance to see Keith and me together now, instead of during the more socially
awkward situation of picking me up for a date.

My mother rose and smiled broadly at her “favorite
flight student.” Then to my utter shock, she stepped toward him and offered him
her hand to shake. “Hello. I’m Allida’s mother. Are you a friend of hers?”

Keith stood there, looking at me as if he
were the dog who’d just been caught with his nose in the kitchen garbage can. I
was too stunned and hurt even to move.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you
about,” he said to me quietly, sounding a little upset, but nowhere near as bad
as I felt. “I’m not Keith Terrington. I’m Alex Ferron, his best friend.”

My mother recoiled, withdrawing her
proffered hand. There was a flash of anger in her eyes directed at The Man
Formerly Known as Keith Terrington. Her expression changed to one of sympathy
as she looked at me. “Guess I’d better leave you two alone.” She turned to
Kaitlyn, who was still seated in the living room and watching us with slackened
jaw. “Why don’t you help me separate what’s Allida’s from what’s yours in the
kitchen?”

Kaitlyn gave a little appreciative smile
at Keith—or rather, Alex—as she went into the kitchen with Mom. My
mother’s notion of sorting kitchen items was not the best of all plans, if she
truly intended to give Alex and me privacy. There was no kitchen door to shut
and they would be able to hear every word we said. Nevertheless, I was not
about to risk trusting Keith/Alex enough to step outside with him. I headed to
the living room and slumped onto the nearest chair, my ego having taken a
massive beating.

“Allida?” Keith/Alex said quietly. “This
all must seem unforgivable right now, but I truly am sorry. What happened was,
Keith told your mother he’d go out with you only because he didn’t want to hurt
her feelings.”

Wonderful. I had been a pity date to
appease my mom.
That made
me feel so much better.

Keith/Alex continued, “Then a friend gave
him a ticket to a Nuggets’ basketball game last night, and he couldn’t stand
the thought of calling you up and telling you he’d rather do that than go out
with you.”

“How considerate,” I growled. His words
were moving me rapidly out of a state of self-pity and into anger. Kaitlyn had
left a copy of the
Boulder Daily Camera
sitting on the coffee table, and
I envisioned myself rolling it up and whacking him with it.

Keith/Alex paused to assess my mood.
Wisely, he rose and distanced himself such that the coffee table was directly
between us. “I owed him a huge favor, so he pleaded with me to fill in for him
and, well, let you down gently.”

“Is any of this supposed to make me feel
better? Because if it is, I gotta tell you honestly, it’s not doing the trick.”

“I know. I’m sorry. See, Keith was just
going to back out of his date with you, but then I happened to have been
listening to the
Tracy Truett Show
during my lunch break on Friday. I
was intrigued and wanted to see what you looked like, so I asked Keith if I
could stand in for him. He made me promise I’d pretend to be him at first,
treat you to a fancy dinner, and then tell you who I really was.”

“At which point, I’d tell my mother what
you and he did to me, and she’d force Keith’s lucky hat down his throat.”

My suspicions that Mom was listening
in—fueled by a lack of “sorting” noises coming from the
kitchen—were confirmed at this last remark, when I heard what sounded
rather like a proud chortle.

Keith/Alex paused and glanced in the direction of the
kitchen. He lowered his voice and said, “I don’t think he was thinking ahead
very clearly. Not only because of that, but because I...I want to keep seeing
you, and now—”

“Is that why you called me last night
after our date? To tell me over the phone who you really were?”

“That, plus to beg your forgiveness. Only
then you immediately told me about your roommate’s date being a setup, so
I—”

“What?” came a shriek from the kitchen.
Kaitlyn charged around the corner, my jar of peanut butter and can of chicken noodle
soup in her hands. She pointed at me with the index finger of her chicken soup
hand. “What do you
mean
my date was a setup?”

I sighed. She looked set to fling the food
items at me if she didn’t care for my answer. I could likely fend off the
peanut butter, which was in a plastic jar anyway, but if Kaitlyn decided to
throw the soup can at me, I’d better hope her aim was off. In the meantime,
Keith/Alex winced and watched us in shock.

Mom rushed into the room. “Could you take
me on a tour of the backyard, Kaitlyn?”

Kaitlyn glared at Mom, then said to me, “Well?”

“Bill asked me not to hurt your feelings
by telling you that ...your date Saturday night was with someone he knew. He
wanted us out of the house so he could search for something.”

“Bill wouldn’t do that! And Jim’s a
terrific guy! He wouldn’t have agreed to such a thing, either. You’re lying!”
Kaitlyn cocked her arm. I dove off the couch and onto my knees. Keith/Alex and
my mom were a second too late as they both tried to grab her. Kaitlyn flung the
chicken soup with so much force the can crashed through the window behind
me—right where my head had been. We all stared at the shattered glass in
stunned silence for a moment.

And friends wonder why I sometimes prefer
the company of dogs to humans.

Kaitlyn dropped the peanut butter and
brought both hands to her lips. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“Are you all right?” Mom asked me. Her
hands were fisted, and she appeared ready to slug Kaitlyn if my answer was no.

I nodded and rose. Glass fragments were on
the back of the couch and seat cushions, but none had hit me, as far as I could
tell. “So much for chicken soup being good for the soul,” I muttered.

Kaitlyn was hugging herself.

“I’m very sorry you overheard my conversation
with Keith. Alex, I mean. I’m telling the truth about what Bill told me, but
you can believe what you want to believe.”

Kaitlyn’s lower lip trembled, but she
refrained from crying. She lifted her chin, whirled on a heel, and marched back
into the kitchen. Mom’s eyes were wide with alarm. She told me in a whisper, “Sorry.
Did you know Kaitlyn can listen to someone else’s conversation in another room
while
she’s speaking herself?”

“I heard that!” Kaitlyn called.

“Maybe we should forget getting the rest
of my stuff and just leave now.”

Mom nodded. “I’ll grab whatever’s left in
your bedroom, and we’ll write off the rest.”

I returned my attention to Alex. He had
paled and was looking at the broken window in disbelieving silence, his hands
deep in the pockets of his tight jeans. He was as handsome as ever, and part of
me still wanted to be open to the possibilities. I wasn’t sure whom I should be
angry at—him? The real Keith? Myself?

Just then, he turned and caught my gaze. “This
has been...a nightmare,” he said. “Everything I say has resulted in...”

“I’m going to need some time to sort
through my feelings.”

He handed me a business card. “Could you
call me? Whenever you want, I’ll...” His vision drifted to the broken window
behind me. He shook his head. “I can’t believe how badly all of this went.” He
headed out the door.

I watched him, wondering if I’d ever
really speak to him again. And, if I did, whether or not I’d remember his name
was Alex Ferron. In any case, Keith Terrington had just exited my life forever.

Mom came out of my room with a full
laundry basket in her arms. Judging by the nervous look in her eyes, she wanted
just as much as I did to get us out of there before Kaitlyn could attack me
again. “C’mon,” she said. “There’re a couple of ugly towels in the bathroom
that might belong to you, but we’ll go shopping tomorrow.”

Mom gasped in a rare display of nerves as
Kaitlyn emerged from the kitchen, a full carton of jars and canned goods in her
arms. Mom looked as though she were ready to drop the basket and step between
us to protect me, but Kaitlyn said softly, “Here, Allida. I think this is
everything. I owe you a can of soup.”