Read Jennifer Apodaca - Samantha Shaw 04 - Batteries Required Online

Authors: Jennifer Apodaca

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Dating Service - California

Jennifer Apodaca - Samantha Shaw 04 - Batteries Required (8 page)

BOOK: Jennifer Apodaca - Samantha Shaw 04 - Batteries Required

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Petting her head, I said, “Tell you what, Ali, I’ll split it with you. You and me, we gotta stick together. We’re the only females in the house, right?” I took the bottle of beer out, twisted off the cap, and headed for her water dish by the sliding glass door.

Ali barked her agreement and followed me.

Joel was already at her food dish, scooping some dry chunks out of the bag with the empty coffee can we used. When he finished, he went back to store Ali’s food in the pantry.

TJ looked up from setting the table. “Mom, do you know what’s for dinner yet?”

Ali sat down and waited patiently for me to pour out half my beer in her empty water dish. I thought frantically about dinner. I knew I had a bag of Tater Tots in the freezer, and some ground meat. . . . I finished pouring the beer and looked at TJ. “Sloppy Joes and Tater Tots.”

“Table’s set. Can I have my buns toasted?”

Buns? Crap, did I have buns? I sipped some beer and rushed over to preheat the oven, then went to the freezer. I got out the bag of Tater Tots and breathed a big sigh of relief when I saw the buns. Sure, they were hot dog buns, instead of hamburger buns, but I could make this work. “Sure, TJ.”

“Can I do the Tater Tots?” Joel asked.

The three of us cooked dinner while Ali drank her beer and watched from her blanket.

At dinner, Grandpa said, “I’m having some friends over tonight for cards.”

I looked up from my half-eaten Sloppy Joe on a toasted hot dog bun. “No cheating, Grandpa.”

He laughed. “We’re just playing some gin rummy. How could I cheat?” He stood up. “Clear up, boys. I’ll do the dishes so your mom can take you to the skate park.”

Taking my dish to the sink, I said, “Thanks, Grandpa.”

“Mom!” Joel yelled as he passed by the kitchen. “We’re going to be late! We’ll wait for you outside!”

Shaking my head, I rushed down the hall to brush my teeth and grab my purse, then I hurried back through the kitchen to kiss Grandpa. “OK if I take your Jeep? I’ll pick the boys up at nine, and we’ll be home after that.”

“Sure, Sammy, you go have fun.”

It wasn’t until after I dropped the boys off at the skate park that I realized I had forgotten to get the sex-toy kit. The skate park was only two minutes from home, so I whipped the Jeep back out onto Grand, then pulled onto the dirt road to the house.

Wow! Several people had already showed up for Grandpa’s card game. I took the keys out and rushed into the house. There were six aging heads bent over the kitchen table. “Don’t mind me; I just forgot something.”

I hurried into my bedroom, then into the small adjoining bathroom. Bending down, I grabbed the shopping bag from under the sink. As I headed back out of my bedroom, I opened up the bag.

No velvet box. There was the wine, the strawberries—ugh, those should probably have gone in the fridge, the book. . .

Grandpa.
I knew he was up to something.

I went storming down the hallway and took a fast right into the long kitchen, which ended in the dining room. Ali hurried over to see what was wrong.

I marched down the length of the kitchen. There they were—six respected senior citizens. Male senior citizens, all gathered around the table, doing nothing.

Probably because they were waiting for me to leave so they could look at the sample sex-toy kit.

“Grandpa, where’re the cards?” I stopped next to his chair. I looked around at the men. Some had coffee, some had water. There was a big bowl of potato chips in the center of the table.

But no cards.

Grandpa looked up at me. “We haven’t started playing yet. Hank here was telling us about his prostate problem.”

I glanced at Hank, who flushed a bright red over his bald head. That only made me more suspicious. Hank talked about his bowels without embarrassment. No, that wasn’t an embarrassment blush, it was guilt.

“The game is up, Grandpa. Hand it over.” I held out my hand. I could not believe it! There wasn’t a man at this table under sixty-five, and they had gathered like a bunch of teenage boys to read their dads’
Playboy
magazines. Sheesh!

“Hand what over?” Grandpa lifted his coffee cup and took a sip.

I nearly grinned. He was cool. “Hand over the velvet box that belongs to Angel, or I am going to call her right now and tell her what you are up to. Then Angel and I are going to go to your morning coffee at Jack in the Box and tell all the ladies there how you men were acting like horny teenagers.”

“Humph!”

“Better give it to her.”

“Young lady, such language!”

I ignored the muttering of the other men and stared at Grandpa. He reached down under a stack of newspapers on the floor and brought out the velvet box. “Is this what you are looking for, Sam? Why didn’t you say so?” He handed it to me.

I took the box and studied it. “Did you open it?”

“No.”

It didn’t look like he had opened it, since the white strip of paper sealing the box shut was still attached. I stuck it into the shopping bag full of bribes that Zoë had given me.

The phone rang.

I glanced at my watch and figured it was Angel calling to see where I was. I answered it. “Hello.”

“Sam! I’ve been trying to reach you all day!”

I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the wall. Linda Simpkins. “Hi, Linda. It’s been a killer day. One emergency after another. I haven’t had time to call you back. Can I call you tomorrow? I have to leave right now to take the boys somewhere.” Lord, I was getting to be a chronic liar.

“Sam, we could do this really fast. I just need to know which night you can work the Harvest Festival.”

The night after never.
To create my cover, I pulled the phone away and yelled, “I’m coming, Joel!” Then I put the phone back against my head and said, “Linda, I have to run. Let me look at my calendar and I’ll get back to you. Bye.” I hung up.

Lifting my forehead off the wall, I turned to see all the men were staring at me. Heat flushed my face and neck. “I’m late. You guys have fun.” Clutching my bag and my purse, I hurried out the door.

Driving down Lake Street, I still couldn’t get over Grandpa and his cronies. What had tipped him off that there was something . . .
interesting
. . . in that box? He must not have bought my story that there were lotions in there. Or had it simply been that I told him not to open it?

OK, it was kind of funny. Grandpa! He was in his seventies!

I made a left turn into the hills overlooking the lake. I bumped along in Grandpa’s Jeep until I turned onto Angel’s tree-lined street. Even with no streetlights, I easily found her driveway. Years of traveling the same route made it automatic.

I parked next to Angel’s blood red car.

Was Gabe staking out his cheater or bending his new partner over . . .

I turned off the ignition, grabbed my purse and my shopping bag, then got out of the Jeep. I fast-walked up the driveway to escape the direction of my thoughts. Angel and I would break open the wine and eat the chocolate-covered strawberries while we explored the sample sex-toy kit.

And talk. Girlfriend talk. I’d tell her about Gabe and his new partner, she’d tell me what was bothering her about Hugh and whatever else was going on in her life. I’d help her solve her latest problem with Hugh, and she’d probably insist on gathering up some of her high tech spy gear and tracking down the motel Gabe was working at.

Going through the gate into the flagstone atrium, I shifted the bag containing the wine, the strawberries, and the sex-toy kit from my right hand to my left.

Did I want to spy on Gabe?

A loud thud came from inside Angel’s house. I forgot about spying on Gabe and froze at her front door. The hairs on the back of my neck spiked up. What was that? Angel’s car was in the driveway. She might easily have just returned from the grocery store and dropped something.

I didn’t believe that. Terror washed up my spine, tightening my shoulder blades and neck. Being a natural born coward, I was really starting to resent finding myself in these situations that required action.

Brave action.

Crap. My hand was on the cool door handle. I pressed my ear up to the wood and listened.

Angel’s voice bled through. “What do you want? Get out!”

Could it be Hugh in there? Or someone else? I hadn’t brought my stun gun or Ali. God. But I had my cell phone! I set down the shopping bag, then reached into my purse and pulled out my cell phone. I dialed 911, but my finger hovered over the send button.

Vance had been really pissed off over the last false emergency. Accusing me of trying to get close to him. On the other hand, Vance didn’t answer 911. But he’d said the entire police station knew that Vance had handled the last call as a kidnapping and Angel had turned up fine. Would they believe me now?

There was shuffling noise coming from inside the house.

Make a decision!
I shouted in my head. I looked around for a weapon and spotted the bottle of Zinfandel inside the shopping bag on the ground. I hooked my cell phone onto my jeans, then got the bottle of wine out. All I would have to do was push “send” and the phone would dial through to 911.

I was going into the house.

With the decision made, I refused to consider it anymore.
Just move.
I put my hand on the doorknob and turned it as quietly as I could. Once I’d turned it as far as it would go, I took a breath, steadied the wine bottle in my right hand, and pushed the door open.

The first thing I saw was a man’s back as he stood over Angel, who was sprawled on the couch. He was waving a gun in her face.

A bag of groceries had spilled out eggs, Diet Coke, and a few other items onto the hardwood floor. Somewhere in my brain, facts were being catalogued: Angel had gone shopping, maybe surprised the intruder. And it didn’t appear that the intruder had heard me come in.

Angel must have realized though, because her gaze shifted past the man toward me.

The man screamed at Angel, “Where is it?”

Angel looked back at the man as I hit the send button on my cell phone hooked to my jeans.

The man added, “I want my—”

I lunged forward, swinging the wine bottle toward his head.

The man whirled around and brought his right arm up. The wine bottle missed his head, but slammed into his right arm, knocking the gun from his hand and then breaking. He yelped and brought his arm into his body.

Angel saw her chance, stood up, and launched her body into the intruder, slamming him into the hardwood floor. “Sam! Get the gun!”

I wrenched my cell phone off my jeans and got it to my ear while rushing to get the gun, which had dropped to the floor. It was only a few feet from the man’s reach. In my ear, a seriously annoyed phone operator said, “Hello? Anybody there? 911, do you have an emergency? What’s the address?”

“Yes! A man with a gun!” I rattled off the address, dropped the phone and reached down to get the gun.

The man’s large, strong hand clamped around my wrist. He yanked hard and I fell over him and Angel into a big dog pile.

“Let go of my hair, you prick!” Angel bellowed.

I scrambled off the mound and got to my knees. The gun was on the other side of Angel and the intruder. He had a handful of Angel’s long red hair.

Blood ran down his arm. The wine bottle must have broken the skin.

I grabbed the first weapon I could find, a six-pack of cans of Diet Coke. The man hung on to Angel’s hair while getting to his knees. I swung the six-pack into the back of his head.

“Ooof!” He flew forward, letting go of Angel’s hair to land on top of the gun. He didn’t move.

Dead?

Angel leaped up and ran toward her bedroom. I stood there holding a single can of Diet Coke. It had slipped the plastic ring, so that the remaining cans hit the man in the head and fell to the ground. One can had exploded, spraying us with cola. The man appeared stunned but he was stirring.

Not dead.

I heard the distant sound of sirens.

The sound snapped me out of my fog. My heart thudded against my chest. Shit! The man started getting to his knees. He shook his head once, and then he was on his knees and reaching for his gun. I had to do something! But before I could figure out what, he grabbed his gun and stood up, pointing the gun right at my face.

I held up the can of Diet Coke, like some kind of shield. My brain registered the sirens, which were growing louder. “The police are here!”

“Freeze! I have a gun!” Angel’s voice boomed.

“I’ll blow off her face!” The man retorted without looking Angel’s way. To me, he said, “Start backing up, toward the kitchen.”

BOOK: Jennifer Apodaca - Samantha Shaw 04 - Batteries Required

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