Deception on All Accounts Read online

  The house was quiet, which was just as well. He couldn't see that rehashing last night would do anyone any good. A note stuck to the front of the divorce papers explained that his signature would have to be notarized. She would call him and tell him when and where to meet her. Charlie crumpled the note and let it fall to the floor. He had a lot to do this morning and he couldn't afford to be distracted.

  Roll call at the police station turned out to be routine enough before Charlie hit the streets. A growl in his stomach reminded him that he had skipped breakfast, so he decided to wait out the traffic at the Waffle House. Maybe he could slip in a couple of eggs and some strong coffee.

  Someone had painted a white snowman and two small angels on the front window of the diner. Inside, a small Christmas tree shuddered every time someone opened and closed the front door, sending silver icicles and the scent of pine floating in the air. It was two days before Christmas and Gladys's bubbly spirits lit up the inside of the diner like a shiny star. She never had much to say of any substance, but Charlie always felt better when he left there. He hoped today would be no different.

  “Hey, Big Mac,” Gladys called out. “Where have you been? I thought someone must have sent you to the North Pole to look for Santa and his reindeer and you got lost.” She laughed and swung past him, delivering three plates of pancakes to the booth next to the door.

  Charlie acted like he didn't hear her and sat down at his usual spot at the counter. She sailed down the aisle behind him and plopped a glass of ice water and a spoon in front of him before returning with a mug of steaming coffee. “You eating or just drinking?” she asked.

  “Give me the works, Gladys. I'm hungry.”

  Charlie lifted the coffee cup with the indentation on his ring finger in full sight. Gladys caught her breath.

  “What is it, Gladys?” he asked as he put his cup down.

  “Oh, nothing, Mac,” she said. “Just short of breath this morning. You know how it is when you get this close to Christmas, with all the excitement. By the way, what are you doing for Christmas?”

  “I always volunteer to work the streets on the holidays, Red. That way the guys with little ones can be at home on Christmas morning. That's where you ought to be, I guess, with kids if you've got them.” Charlie spooned several more pieces of ice into his coffee. It was at times like this he wondered if he had missed out on one of the good things in life by having no children. They appeared to be a joy when they were little, but from what he'd seen on the street, most of them turned into a pain in the butt when they hit their teen years. Of course, it was too late to backtrack now. He dismissed the thought of kids from his mind.

  Gladys delivered several more plates to surrounding customers before landing one in front of Charlie. “We're going to be closed. Did you know we are cooking for the shelter that day? You're welcome to join us if you'd like.”

  “Why thanks, Red. I'll remember that.” Charlie had never wondered if Gladys had any family. He just assumed she did.

  The door opened and Jules Hebert walked in. His mood was almost as festive as Gladys's as he shook hands with Charlie and sat down beside him at the counter.

  “And this is the man from the shelter,” said Gladys. “He volunteered to help us serve the food. Do you all know each other?”

  “Oh, yes,” beamed Jules. “This man brought me back from the dead.”

  Gladys raised an eyebrow and grabbed a menu for another customer.

  Charlie smiled, pulled the photo out of his shirt pocket, and handed it to Jules. “Does this look like the man you saw dumping trash at Wal-Mart?”

  Jules eyed the picture for several seconds while the corners of his mouth turned down and his lower lip protruded. Then he scrunched up his nose. “What happened to this guy?” he finally asked.

  “Not sure. Looks like he might have had a run-in with a four-legged beast that didn't take a liking to him.”

  Jules lowered the photo and looked at Charlie. “You all don't have werewolves in these parts, do you?”

  Gladys heard Jules's remark and stretched across the counter trying to see what he was talking about.

  “Well, is it him or not?” asked Charlie.

  “I don't think so. People sure look weird when they're dead, don't they?”

  Charlie laid down his fork, took the photo, and slipped it back into his pocket. “Was it even close?”

  “Not really.”

  “Thanks, that's what I needed to know.”

  Jules started toward the door. “Bye, Gladys, I'll see you tonight.”

  “Okay, hon.” Gladys popped her chewing gum.

  As the door closed behind Jules, Charlie looked at Gladys and grinned. “You got a date, Red?”

  Gladys's face began to flush. “Oh, no. We're just going to go over the details for Christmas dinner. Do you think he's eligible? I'm not sure he remembers a whole lot of things.” She unconsciously glanced again toward Charlie's left hand before she casually added, “I guess he's really had a rough time of it these last several months.”

  Gladys had an uncanny way of prying information out of people, but it rarely worked on Charlie.

  Charlie dropped his money on the counter. “Got to go, Gladys. See you later.”

  As Charlie drove onto the street, Gladys ran to her purse and pulled out her compact. She wanted to see exactly what Charlie and Jules had seen when they looked at her. She moaned at her pale lips and pushed her bangs up on her forehead. Then she closed the mirror and returned to the counter to clean up dirty dishes, thinking about Big Mac's empty ring finger.

  With only one day left before Christmas, the Colonial Grocery buzzed with shoppers looking for last-minute bargains. Sadie had volunteered to work extra hours to help expedite the flow of customers. Staying busy kept her mind off the fact that she would not be seeing Jaycee on Christmas. If she worked hard enough, and got tired enough, she thought maybe she could sleep through it. When she finally headed toward the parking lot, her feet hurt so badly she couldn't feel her toes.

  As she walked toward her car, she could feel a vehicle approaching behind her as if someone were following her. She moved to one side and waited for it to pass. The car window slowly lowered. “If you'll join us for dinner, we'll buy,” offered Charlie.

  Sadie smiled. She could see Happy leaning forward in the passenger's seat. “I would love to,” she gushed.

  Sadie, Charlie, and Jules sat in a corner booth at the Pigsicle House and ate pork ribs, barbecue beans, and corn-on-the-cob until it dripped from their chins. They laughed and talked like three old school chums at homecoming. Sadie dipped the corner of her napkin into her ice water and used it to wipe the remaining gooey sauce from her fingers.

  “Well, Happy,” said Sadie. “I can't begin to tell you how good it is to see you. You are like a different person.”

  “His name is Jules,” interrupted Charlie.

  “He may be Jules to you, but he will always be Happy to me,” she said.

  “Miss Sadie, you can call me anything you want,” laughed Jules.

  Suddenly Sadie became serious. “Charlie told me you couldn't find the robber in any of the photos.”

  “No, I'm sorry. I couldn't find him in any of them—not even the dead man.”

  “Oh.” Sadie's voice trailed off as she thought about Michael for a moment. “That's okay, Happy. I don't think it was him, anyway.”

  When the Pigsicle House announced they were closing, the trio said their goodbyes, but not before Charlie and Jules made Sadie promise she would help serve Christmas dinner the next day at the Shelter of Grace.

  “I'll do it for you, Happy,” she said. As they walked out into the darkness, snow began to float lightly in the night air. Sadie looked up at the sky, smiled, and then added, “Merry Christmas, everybody.”

  Chapter 22

  Sadie pulled the heavy quilts tight under her chin. Then she remembered her promise to be at the homeless shelter by eleven o'clock to help Happy and his gang dish out Christm
as dinner. She thought about the falling snow the night before and decided to allow herself a few additional minutes of warm solitude.

  Thoughts of Jaycee swirled in her head, and she deplored how desperately she missed him. She knew he had taken some important clients to South Padre Island for the holidays, but she felt somewhat dejected that he couldn't find the time to give her at least one call. After all, it was Christmas, and she longed for his strong embrace and lavish kisses.

  She could feel Sonny's presence and knew without opening her eyes that he was trying to stare her awake. She peeked through the eyelashes of one eye and that was enough for Sonny. He knew she was awake and it was time to play. He bounced onto the bed and ran his cold nose down the side of her face while she tried to hide under the covers. Sadie let out a giggle. “Okay, okay already. You win.” She grabbed the sides of his face and kissed his snout before he jumped off the bed and barked.

  And then, almost as if on cue, the phone rang. Sadie grabbed the receiver and tried to overcome the sleep in her voice.

  “Merry Christmas, darling.” Jaycee's voice always sent a surge of excitement through Sadie's body.

  “Oh, Jaycee, Merry Christmas to you, too,” sang Sadie. “I wish so bad you were here. I have so many things to tell you.”

  “Well, I wish I was there, too,” said Jaycee in hushed tones. “I don't have long to talk. I was just able to get away from all the people for a moment and I wanted to call my special sweetheart and wish her Merry Christmas.”

  While Jaycee talked, Sadie held the phone against her ear with her shoulder and pulled on a clean pair of slacks.

  “What's on your agenda today?” he asked.

  Balancing the phone with one hand, she popped a holiday sweater over her head. “I'm on my way to the Shelter of Grace,” she said, “to help serve food to the homeless.”

  “That sounds like a fun day.” The sarcastic tone in Jaycee's voice caught Sadie off-guard.

  “Well, it's a long story. I'm helping my friend Happy. He's been released from Vinita…oh, I wish we had more time together so I could catch you up on all that's happened. I tried to call you, but all I got was your answering service. Did you get my messages?”

  “Yes, but I told you I was going to be with clients.” He sounded agitated. “Listen, you have fun serving dinner and I'll call you soon. Probably won't be back to Oklahoma before the last week in January, and we'll talk then. Remember, I love you, and maybe soon we won't have to be so far apart.”

  “Okay. I love you, too.”

  Sadie hung up the phone and sat back down on the bed. She had an awful gnawing in her stomach, a feeling that something wasn't right. He didn't sound like himself, so distant.

  When she looked out the kitchen window she could see that a thin blanket of sparkling white covered the countryside, creating a blinding reflection of the morning sun. Opening the door for Sonny, she watched as he romped in the snow. She tried to dismiss her lonely ache for Jaycee as she went on with the day. She prepared some warm oats for Joe and delivered them to the barn. Then she brushed him for several minutes before returning to the house. Just as she walked in the door the phone rang again.

  Sadie answered, but the caller said nothing. Her intuition told her someone was on the other end of the line and they just weren't saying anything. “Hello?” she said again. “Who is this? Jaycee, is that you?” Still, nothing. After a few seconds, Sadie heard the caller hang up and the line go dead. For the first time, she wished she had Caller ID. As she dismissed the call from her mind, she made a mental note to check into the cost of that service.

  Sadie looked at her watch. She was going to have to hurry if she was going to deliver Uncle Eli and Aunt Mary's gifts and get to the shelter on time.

  Aunt Mary wouldn't take no for an answer. First, she presented Sadie with a scarf and hat that she had crocheted from purple yarn. Sadie put them on and paraded around the room, then gave her aunt and uncle their gifts—a robe and house shoes for Mary and three flannel shirts for Eli. After admiring their gifts, they all sat down at the table and dined on slabs of ham, fried potatoes, biscuits, and gravy. Eli finished first and headed for the barn, leaving the women to talk over another cup of coffee. Before long, Sadie found herself pouring out the details of the morning phone calls.

  “Just how well do you know this young man, honey?” asked her aunt.

  “Oh, I've known him for a while,” said Sadie. “I'm just crazy about him.”

  “If he cared anything about you, he wouldn't be off somewhere else on Christmas.”

  “It's his job…” Sadie became painfully aware she was making an excuse for him.

  “Why can't you find a nice Indian fellow, anyway? You need a good Indian to take care of you.”

  “Got any suggestions?” asked Sadie. “Besides, I don't think you can always count on a man to take care of you, Indian or not. I know a lot of Indian girls trying to raise kids without a husband.” Sadie picked up her plate and placed it in the sink.

  Her aunt changed the subject. “You go on and get out of here. I know your friends are waiting for you.”

  “Why don't you all come down to the shelter later. I'd like for you to meet Happy.”

  “We'll see,” said Mary. “You be careful. That snow might have made the roads slick.”

  “I'll be fine. See you later.” Sadie kissed her aunt on the forehead and headed out the door.

  The snow had blown off the highway, and the drive to the shelter was uneventful as there were very few drivers on the road. When she reached the Shelter of Grace, Happy and Gladys had already arrived with the food. They had baked six turkeys, surrounding each with stuffing in its own throwaway aluminum pan. Equal portions of instant mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans sat on the counter waiting to be dished out. Sadie pulled her hair back and tied it with a red Christmas bow she had brought, then donned the white apron and plastic gloves Gladys offered.

  A crowd had already gathered and people began to drift in and out of the dining area. Happy, timid at first, seemed to loosen up as he talked with some of the regulars at the shelter. As soon as the trio got everything in its place, a line began to form and they started dishing out Christmas dinner.

  Sadie had never known a homeless person before she met Happy, and the sight of so many women and children in the shelter tore at her heart. She wanted to wrap up every child, take them home, give them a warm bath, and feed them. The Indian people in her small community of Eucha seemed to take care of one another, creating no need for a homeless shelter. They might not have a lot to eat, but what little they had they were always willing to share. It was the Indian way. But here in Sycamore Springs, this shelter seemed to be filled to capacity with hungry people of every age and skin color. Sadie made an effort to ask each one their name and tell them Merry Christmas.

  The day passed before she knew it and Sadie decided volunteering to help at the homeless shelter had been one of her most rewarding experiences. Happy had become a celebrity of sort and would soon be getting his fifteen minutes of fame compliments of an enterprising reporter from the Tulsa World newspaper. The young man had been in Sycamore Springs visiting relatives when he noticed all the commotion at the shelter. Once he struck up a conversation with Happy, the rest would soon be history. Happy's remarkable story would be featured in a human-interest article in the near future.

  After Christmas, the Colonial Grocery Store started to return to normal. As the flow of customers slowed down, the store prepared to resume its pre-holiday hours. Sadie's last night to work would be New Year's Eve. Once again, she needed to seriously consider what she was going to do about her career, or lack of career, as it seemed at the moment.

  The number of calls and letters from Jaycee had started to dwindle during the past week and Sadie became a master at rationalization. The end of the year had to be a busy time for the investment firm; she knew this from her own experience at the bank. Jaycee had talked about a possible promotion he had his eye on, so she ass
ured herself everything would be okay once the end of January arrived, bringing him to town.

  Sadie always enjoyed New Year's and planned to make the most of the day. She got up early and put on a pot of black-eyed peas and ham to slow-cook all day. Her grandmother had carried on the southern tradition for years, promising Sadie if she ate peas and cornbread on New Year's Day, she would have good luck all year long. Sadie didn't really believe in luck, but the ritual had stuck, anyway.

  She plopped down in front of the television for a complete day of parades and football. The Oklahoma Sooners, her favorite college team, would be the last game of the day. She thought surely Jaycee would call by then to tease her about the rivalry between Oklahoma and Texas.

  Sadie sat on the floor in front of the sofa and gathered an array of snacks around her with a travel mug full of Dr Pepper. She placed the phone within fingertip reach and began to surf the many cable channels.

  Sonny barked an announcement of arrival. That particular high-pitched bark meant “heads up, someone turned off the highway.” Sadie hit the mute button on the remote and went to the window to investigate. A large, black luxury automobile had crossed the cattle guard and rolled to a stop. Sadie didn't recognize the car and it was too far away to see the driver. For a moment, her heart sailed. It must be Jaycee coming to surprise her, she thought. When the car did not move, she decided it was probably someone out for a drive, lost and unsuccessfully trying to find Eucha on a map.

  Out of habit, she went to the kitchen door and called Sonny. He trotted to the house and came inside. The closer Sonny was, the safer Sadie felt. When Sadie closed the door, the car had not moved.

  The pot of black-eyed peas let out a hiss and Sadie went to the kitchen to check on them. She removed the lid and stirred a couple of times before turning the temperature on the pot to low. Suddenly, she heard a deafening blast. The living-room window shattered, covering the floor with razor-sharp slivers of broken glass where Sadie had been sitting earlier. For a moment, Sadie couldn't figure out what had happened. Then she heard another boom. This time nothing broke but she knew the sound came from a shotgun.