My Novel: Chapter 11

Running:

I loved opening my side door in the morning, feeling the freshness of a new day, and stepping off the porch to begin my run. Usually I had a course in mind, but not always. When I reached the end of my driveway, that's when I made my first directional choice. Only two or three times did I start in one direction, then do an about-face and go the other--usually laughing.

Writing:

Same goes with writing, and even more so since two keys are so easy to use: the backspace and delete keys. With them I always have the freedom to select the course my manuscript takes...

My grandson loved the tracks I set up for him. They kind of represent the story I'm sharing with you. It has a start, middle and end like the train, and my book is also on a track with ups and downs and twists along the way. Enjoy!

Secrets at Midnight

Leona Palmer Haag

Chapter 11

Po-dunk Texas sweltered in hot evening sunlight. Matt balanced fast food bags on the console between the front seats. No Jenn. He entered the gas station and looked around. Katie’s little voice chattered through the flimsy restroom wall. Jenn emerged with Katie as a freckle-faced kid rang up a pile of goodies he’d gathered. She passed him the credit card on her way out and stood in a shadow cast by the pump to wait for him. “I bought hamburgers. Do you mind eating in the car?” he said when he joined her.

She replied, “We passed a park back there. It has a picnic table and swing set and Katie needs to run around for a while. It would be child abuse to strap her into a car seat.”

A park? He’d only seen the unpleasant backside of Texas. “I didn't notice a park.”

“You only saw what you wanted to see. I caught everything you missed. Great detective you are.”

Matt bit back a retort and drove until he found a depression of straggly grass and dirt a hundred yards off the road and worth missing. One mangy tree provided shade for a rotting picnic table. Nearby, a smelly trash can swarmed with hornets. A dozen yards away drooped a lopsided thing Jenn mistook as swing set. Jenn seemed oblivious to all that. She sat down and spread out her skirt before plopping Katie on it, instructing her daughter to hold still to avoid slivers. She opened the bags of food and served her daughter first. He dug in to retrieve what he wanted.

Jenn surprised him when she stopped eating after a few bites and smiled. “Thanks, Matt.” It was the most encouraging moment all day. That, and not finding Jenn's and Katie's bodies sprawled out beside a trash can behind her house. He forced the image aside to eat.

When Katie finished, Jenn wiped her little mouth and hands and turned her loose to chase butterflies. The two-foot toddler ricocheted off the bench, turned dizzy circles trying to catch a white winged creature, then headed straight for a fading yellow baby swing. Jenn grabbed her hamburger and jumped up. “Let me know when you're ready to go.” She chased after her with a hamburger in one hand and drink in the other.

He'd been ready the moment they'd arrived, but allowed playtime while he checked in with the office on his cell phone and detailed the journey. He watched the mother and daughter unwind as Adams reported Curtis had left for the day, leaving things under control. There was no news on Monica. Adams searched the Washington file to check if Curtis had found Jenn’s ammo, reporting, “Negative.”

Matt would wave that under Curtis’ nose later. He checked his watch. Was seven minutes long enough to appease a toddler and her mother? He gave them three more before he tossed empty wrappers into the trash through swarming bees. “Ready?” he called as he joined them, bouncing his car keys in his palm.

Jenn passed the question along as she tickled her daughter when the swing came within reach. “Ready, Katie bug?”

Katie laughed and kicked and swung away. Back she came and collected more tickles. Mother and daughter giggled in harmony. Matt wondered how a kid raised by two rough boys could turn into someone so incredible. Didn’t good mothers raise good mothers? She’d never had one, and he hardly counted as a mother—just a friend—but he was a good one at that. He watched the toddler shake her head and kick her chubby legs and swing away through peals of laughter. Somewhere along the line he and Shawn apparently hadn’t failed.

Exactly eight minutes later Jenn said, “Enough.” Just that fast, playtime ended. She stopped the swing and pulled her daughter out and swung her around in the air. “You're a good girl, baby Kate.” Katie seemed satisfied and willingly allowed Jenn to buckle her into her car seat.

The car wouldn't start. Matt checked under the hood, suspecting sabotage, but everything looked fine. He pulled out the sales receipt from the gas station and called their phone number. The clerk gave him a number for the mechanic in town. After he placed the call Jenn convinced him to join her in a game of tag-and-tickle-the-tot until a tow truck arrived.

Dusk had settled into full darkness when the after-hours mechanic announced the car needed a new fuel pump and one could be in town before ten the next morning. He said the good news was that they’d be on the road before noon. It sounded like bad news, especially since there was no car rental agency in town.

“We’re here for the night,” Matt informed Jenn. “But we’re in luck—the only motel is across the street.” He pulled Katie from her arms and studied the garish pink and yellow painted building. “I’ll check if they have a vacant room, which seems likely from the empty parking lot.”

“It’s screaming ‘one night rendezvous,’” she muttered to his parting back.

When he returned he handed her a key and hefted her largest bag. “I need both,” she said as he reached to shut the trunk.

His eyebrow rose in a question mark. “We’re here for a few hours, not a weekend.”

“You packed for me, so I'm not sure what I have.”

“You know what you have—your entire closet almost.”

“Just bring them,” she ordered.

He hefted out the both bag, muttering, “Women. They never pack light.” She laughed and slung the diaper bag over her shoulder and followed him and his load across the street talking about how light she could have packed if she’d had time to plan, saying something about the proper way to fold clothes so they didn’t wrinkle. He endured it, glad to leave her at the door so he could retrieve his own bag.

When he returned to the room he found Jenn's bags on the first bed and Katie's packing blanket open and spilling its contents across the second. “You only get one,” he said, placing his bag out of the way.

Jenn looked up from the pile of baby clothes she was straightening. “We're not staying in the same room.” She waved her fingers, trying to scoot him out the door.

He plopped down in the only chair—a ratty thing with shot springs in the seat. “Yeah, we are. I get the bed by the door so I can keep the Boogie Man out—unless you want guard duty. It’s up to you—girl who left her gun in hiding.”

Jenn sank onto the second bed, zapping him with a glare. “This trip wasn't my idea, this motel wasn't either, but having my own room is. Vacate.” She waved at the door again. “I’ll protect myself with karate chops.”

He turned away and watched Katie twist knobs on the air conditioning unit, then finally met her eyes again. “This wasn't my idea either, but neither was dumping a body in your yard. When bad stuff happens, usually more bad stuff follows, therefore, I'm not putting you in your own room because I'd like to prevent more bad stuff today.”

She signed loud and painfully for emphasis. “What's going on, Mr. Jensen? Why do I feel like someone tossed me in a blender and pushed the shatter button—and that someone is you?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “We’re here because we’re trying to prevent someone from pushing the shatter button—and I didn’t put you in a blender, and I’m not the one pushing buttons, okay?” She didn’t answer so he took a deep breath and went on. “We don't think it was accidental that a body was discovered in your yard. We think your timing changed the perpetrator's plans—drastically.”

Jenn blinked several times as if grasping for meanings. “Who is we? You and Kevin? The police? What are you talking about? What do you mean by my yard. My yard?”

A fine line separated fact from fiction, and he straddled it, wondering how long he could keep it up and vowing he’d manage until he rescued Jenn from the blender. “We suspect someone was probably less than ten feet away when you stepped on the woman's wrist.”

She gasped. Her eyes wildly darted around the room before settling on him. “Who are we? Be specific.”

The blender was plugged in and running. “Kevin. Me. Others.”

She leaned forward. “Why my yard? Who was the woman?”

He studied her terrified face and grimaced inside. His words could push more buttons, so he carefully selected them. “We're not sure who the woman is or what role she plays or how you fit in.” She remained silent, so he continued. “Chances are you weren't supposed to get involved, but got in the way. My job is to get you out of the picture and keep you out in case someone wants to do it in a less desirable manner. Did you hear or see anything you haven’t told me?”

Her shoulders tensed. “I’ve told everyone everything a hundred times. Every detail, nothing skipped or halfway. I promise.”

He nodded, wishing a suppressed memory would pop out and easily solve everything. He knew he’d sound stupid as he said, “Something’s going down. How big, we're not sure. We suspect the body was a message intended for Nick, but ended up being delivered to the wrong person in the wrong way—you. I can't take you home until everything’s secure.”

“Since you're as clear as mud, explain what you said.”

He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “Take a shower. Get ready for bed. Put Katie down. After my shower we’ll talk.” He slowly leaned back in his seat, releasing tension.

She hesitated, then rolled off the bed and scooped up Katie. He knew her upbeat little, “Hey, little cookie bear, it's bath time,” was a façade pushing away mounting hysteria. She didn't look back as she danced off. It amazed him how she could act so calm. She could come unglued if she chose to—and it wouldn't be pleasant. For Katie’s sake she’d put on a show, but for how long? 

End Chapter 11

 Congratulations! You've stayed with me through 1/6th of the chapters. Stick with me to the end! Oh, and this book isn't like my grandson's train track--going in circles over and over again...