Authors: Fern Michaels
Lex frowned. “Has that ever happened before? Sometimes people dial the wrong number and hang up when they don’t recognize the voice on the other end.”
Tiki shook her head. “I say, ‘señor Sanders telephone’ when I say hello.”
“If it happens again tomorrow, tell me and I’ll call the telephone company. They might be able to trace the call. Are you frightened, Tiki?”
“No, señor. The gates are closed. Manny is here as well as Jesus. I don’t want a problem for you, señor.”
Lex hugged the elderly woman. “Don’t worry about me, Tiki. Did the ice cream for the children come today?”
“Si. Early this morning. It’s in the freezer. Tonight I will call the children and give them chocolate. Tomorrow strawberry, and the day after, vanilla. Little Toro doesn’t like chocolate. He says it’s mud. I will give him strawberry.”
Lex smiled. “Mud, huh? He’s only four—how does he know what mud tastes like?”
Tiki shrugged. Lex smiled again. He was still smiling when he climbed behind the wheel of his truck. As always, before he turned on the ignition, he let his eyes scan the vast acreage that made up the Sanders ranch. “Thank you, God, for all that you have given me, and allowed me to do for others.”
Seven
“Dolly, can you believe it’s almost the end of April? Where has the time gone?”
“Is that another way of saying it’s been almost a month since Lex Sanders called?”
“I guess that’s what I’m saying. I must have done something wrong. Was it wrong to call him and brag about passing my driving test? He didn’t call after that. He faxes everything to the office. He’s been paying his bills in seven days like always. I just wish I knew what, if anything, I did. I guess,” Ariel said, her eyes misting, “he realized how bad my face really is. Don’t say it, Dolly. We were getting along so well. We actually had fun together and I was looking forward to the date that never materialized the Saturday after my test. He said he’d call on Friday and he never did.”
“You could have called him. This is the 90’s, Ariel. He might be busy—you don’t know what’s going on in his life. He could very well be having some kind of family crisis. Things like this happen all the time. And, as my old mother used to say, if it’s meant to be, it will be. But, I always tended to believe that was baloney. Think, Ariel, of a reason, a business reason, to call him. There’s nothing wrong with that. You might get some kind of clue as to what’s wrong.”
“Not in a million years. This is not a shy man. He stopped me on the highway and convinced me to go to his ranch. We’ve had six dates—dinner, movies, and a picnic. Then, nothing. Somewhere along the way, something happened. What ticks me off is I had myself convinced I was going to go to bed with him if the opportunity presented itself. Now, I’m glad I didn’t. Damn it, he even told his workers he was marrying me. Yes, I took it as sort of a joke, but his eyes were serious. He meant it. I’ve never been dumped before. I damn well don’t like the feeling.”
“Call him,” Dolly said.
“Not in this lifetime.”
“Then you’re never going to know.”
“I’ll live with it.”
“You’re always going to wonder. Aren’t you the one who always said, ‘look it in the eye, deal with it, and get on with it’?”
“Yes, of course, I did say that. However, I was referring to other types of problems. This is emotional. It’s different. I can forget he exists. You can take care of his business at the office or assign his account to one of the other girls. From this moment on, Lex Sanders is someone I knew briefly.” Her voice was lofty, airy, as she fastened Snookie’s leash to her collar.
“That’s about the biggest lie I’ve ever heard you tell, Ariel Hart,” Dolly muttered as she went back to paring vegetables for dinner.
Outside, the early evening closed around Ariel like a soft cloak. She sprinted with Snookie and then settled down for a brisk walk around her three-acre estate. She felt like crying. She wanted to cry, but what good would that do her? Besides, her bad eye would puff up and made her look lopsided. She was falling for Lex Sanders. At the age of fifty, no less. Did people still use that term,
falling for
, she wondered.
Snookie woofed softly, her signal that she wanted the leash removed so she could have her own private run. Ariel obliged. “Make sure you get back here in five minutes. I don’t want to lose you, too.” Her voice was hoarse, her eyes tear-filled. The shepherd nuzzled Ariel’s leg, but didn’t go off on her private nightly run. Ariel crouched down to wrap her arms around the dog’s neck. “It’s important to believe things will get better,” she whispered. “You know what, Snook? Upstairs is my very first report on Felix. I’m going to read it tonight before I go to bed. I was so excited when I got it, I couldn’t bear to open it up. I wanted to be by myself, in my own room, with the door locked. Now, isn’t that silly?” The dog inched closer to her legs, her long snout searching out her petting hand. “I wonder if Beverly what’s-her-name found out anything important. I think I need to put that time in my life to a final rest, if you get my drift. It’s always been there, hanging over my head. There was no closure. We all need closure. Like with Lex. Damn it, maybe I will call him. Maybe I’ll tell him to take his business somewhere else. I deserve better than this. We’re adults, for God’s sake. He’s hanging me out in the wind like a sheet off his bed. I would never do that to someone. I hate men. I really do, Snookie. C’mon, Dolly probably has our dinner ready and here I sit moaning and groaning. Tomorrow the sun is going to shine and it will be a whole new day for everyone. You can do a lot with a brand new day if you really want to.” She heaved herself to her feet, the dog sprinting ahead of her. The urge to cry again was so strong, Ariel could feel her throat start to burn. “No tears for you, Lex Sanders.”
The moment Ariel entered the kitchen she knew something was wrong. Dolly’s dark eyes were wide with shock as she handed over the phone. “This is Ariel Hart,” Ariel said quietly, her eyes questioning Dolly who just stared at her helplessly.
“This is Stan, Miss Hart. I just got a call from the State Troopers. One of our trucks was hijacked about an hour ago. Ten John Deere tractors scheduled for delivery to Lex Sanders’ ranch. The driver was making a stop in Las Vegas to pick up a $50,000 reconditioned Wurlitzer jukebox, a reconditioned Coke machine, and a special one-of-a-kind bubble gum machine. Just those three items are worth over $150,000. It’s a federal matter so Mike called it in over the CB and reported it right away. Is there anything else I can do, Miss Hart?”
“Is our driver okay?”
“A little rocky, but that’s to be expected. He’s a family man so you can imagine what he was going through. Mike Wheeler was bobtailing so he picked him up at the state line where the troopers dropped him off. The feds will be here first thing in the morning to talk to you.”
“Who’s the driver?”
“Dave Dolan. He’s been with us for twenty-three years. He’s one of the best. Two kids in college and two in high school. Sweet little wife. Nice family.”
“Pay him for the run as though he completed it, and give him a five-hundred-dollar bonus. No man deserves to be put in a position where he has to fear for his life. I’ll want to talk to him in the morning. Did he see the people who did this?”
“Nope. They wore stocking masks and didn’t talk at all. Dave said they had it down pat. There were four guys; each one had a job, and did it in complete silence. Do you want to call Mr. Sanders or should I?”
“I’ll do it, Stan. I think, and this is just my opinion, that this is the beginning of some bad times. Call a meeting tomorrow of all the truckers. We can have the guys on the road call in from truck stops. I don’t want any conversations going out over the CB.”
“I’ll take care of it, Miss Hart. And for whatever it’s worth, I’m of the same opinion as you are.”
“We’ve been hijacked, Dolly,” Ariel said. “It was one of Lex Sanders’ loads. Ten John Deere tractors, a genuine, reconditioned Wurlitzer jukebox and some kind of super-duper bubble gum machine that the driver picked up from an antiques store in Las Vegas. Real collector’s items. I have to call Lex . . . Mr. Sanders. Get me his number, please, and Dave Dolan’s home number. I want to talk to Mrs. Dolan personally. Maybe I should call Mr. Able in Hawaii and see what he has to say. We have his number, don’t we?”
“Ariel, do you think Chet Andrews had anything to do with this?” Dolly asked as she riffled through a thick book that held all the truckers’ home phone numbers and Lex Sanders’ private number at the ranch. She copied down the three numbers and handed the slip of paper to Ariel.
“It wouldn’t surprise me, but we can’t accuse anyone without proof.”
Her heart pounding at the thought of talking to Lex Sanders, Ariel dialed the number with shaking hands. “Tiki, this is Ariel Hart from Able Body Trucking. I need to speak with Mr. Sanders. This is an emergency.”
“Si, Señora, I fetch him. He’s in the barn. One momento.”
Ariel’s fingers drummed on the kitchen counter as she tried to imagine Lex’s reaction to her news.
“Sanders here,” Lex said.
“Lex, this is Ariel. Stan just called and said your load was hijacked outside of Las Vegas by four men. They . . . they took your . . . collectibles and the John Deere tractors. The feds will be at the office in the morning. I’m sorry. We’re insured. I don’t know what to say.” Damn, she was babbling. This wasn’t her fault, but she knew in her gut he was going to blame her. She waited for the explosion she knew was coming.
“What?” The one word was a barrage of sound.
“What part didn’t you understand? Or is that just a rhetorical question?”
“I understand everything you just said. I don’t give a hoot about those tractors. They can be replaced. I’ve waited thirty goddamn years for the rest of the load. I’m holding you personally responsible. I want them back. Do you hear me, Miss Hart?”
“You don’t need to bellow in my ear, Mr. Sanders. Is it possible you think I should have ridden shotgun with that load? If you’re stupid enough to believe that, then you’re an idiot. You know it’s against the law to carry a firearm on a run. It’s also against the law to interfere in a federal investigation. The feds will handle it. You are, of course, within your rights to be at the office when they arrive in the morning. Now that you’ve ruined my evening, I want to tell you what I think of a man who stands a lady up for a date and doesn’t call her to explain why. I guess I thought you were a gentleman. My mistake.” Ariel slammed the phone down so hard, Snookie took the time to lift her head from her food dish to growl menacingly.
Ariel dusted her hands together. “He’s holding me personally responsible. How could he say such a thing? He’ll collect from the insurance. He has a right to be upset, but not to blame me. He said he doesn’t care about the tractors. It’s the collectibles. He said he’s waited thirty years for them. I feel lower than a snake’s belly, Dolly. You should have heard him. His voice was like chipped ice. I hate men. I mean, I
really
hate men. My fault!” Ariel snorted.
She dialed the Dolans’ number, reassured Mrs. Dolan as much as she could, and promised that extra security would be added to the runs to protect the drivers. “If there’s anything I can do, call me. If you have a pencil I’ll give you my home phone number. You or your husband can call me any time of the day or night. Thank you for talking to me, Mrs. Dolan. I’ll speak with Dave myself tomorrow. Good night, Mrs. Dolan.”
“There’s a two- or three-hour difference between here and Hawaii. I’ll try Mr. Able and see what kind of advice he can offer. I just don’t feel qualified, Dolly. God, what if the drivers walk out on me? A hijacking has to be a pretty scary thing. I’m sitting here safe and sound in my kitchen and I’m frightened. Imagine what those truckers feel like.”
The phone rang. Ariel looked at Dolly. “Don’t answer it. It might be . . . answer it . . . no, don’t . . . ”
Ariel picked up the phone. “Hello.”
“Ariel, it’s Lex Sanders. I’m calling to apologize. I had no right to talk to you like that. It was inexcusable. I also want to apologize for standing you up that Saturday night. I had to cross the border for a family funeral. There have been a lot of pressures here at the ranch and I have a few . . . ah . . . personal problems consuming my time. I’ll be at the office tomorrow when the authorities arrive. Aren’t you going to say something, Ariel?”
“I think you need to get yourself another trucking company. Good-by, Mr. Sanders.” She slammed the phone down again.
“That’s really telling him,” Dolly snorted. “But aren’t you cutting off your nose to spite your face?”
“Probably. My gut tells me I’m going to have more than I can handle, and I don’t need Lex Sanders, his personal problems, or his on again, off again personality.” Ariel dialed the area code for Hawaii. She was still drumming her fingers on the counter-top, and tapping her foot at the same time.
When the phone was finally picked up on the other end, a gravelly voice said, “This is Asa Able. What can I do for you?”
She heaved a sigh of relief. “Mr. Able, this is Ariel Hart. I hope I’m not calling you at a bad time.”
“Not a bad time. Just so much sunshine a body can tolerate. I’m having my afternoon beer out on the lanai. It’s Hawaii talk for a patio. Must be a problem or you wouldn’t be calling me. Bet you want to try and sell me back the business.” His voice sounded so hopeful, Ariel hated to disappoint him.
“Not exactly. One of the trucks was hijacked this afternoon in broad daylight. The feds are coming tomorrow morning. It was a load for Lex Sanders—some personal things and ten John Deere tractors. He’s pretty upset.”
“That personal stuff, that wouldn’t be one of those old jukeboxes, a Coke machine, and a bubble gum machine, would it?”
“All three. Stan said the collectibles alone are worth over $150,000. Lex is coming to the office tomorrow when the feds arrive. I told him to find himself another trucking company. My question to you is, has this ever happened before? I had a pretty serious run-in with Chet Andrews and I fired him. He made a lot of threats. I’m calling for advice.”
“Had one hijacking about twenty years ago. They got themselves caught in the next town. Lots of wildcat strikes, that sort of thing. Chet was giving me a bad time right before I sold the business to you. He’s having a hard time making the payments on his rig. I was the only fool who’d hire him, and I only used him because I was afraid of him. I’m too old to lie and make up stories about why I kept him on. Fear, pure and simple. My missus was petrified. Now, why would you go and do a silly thing like telling Lex to go someplace else? He probably will, and then where will you be? He’s my bread and butter. I mean,
your
bread and butter. He’s a good man, an honest man. You don’t find many like him nowadays. You best straighten up your back and apologize. That’s my advice, and it’s for free. Chet Andrews is one ugly man. He gave me many a sleepless night. Wouldn’t surprise me to find he’s behind the hijacking. The man don’t have no conscience. Why’d you say you told Lex to go somewheres else?”