Failure is Fatal (13 page)

He knows. I don't know how he knows, but he does.
I punched the button to play the earlier message, which merely said, “Glad I didn't wake you. Just calling to make certain you're fine and don't need anything.”

To the casual observer, Der's message seemed innocuous enough, but I'd bet he was checking up on me earlier in the evening. There was nothing for it now but to get some sleep so that I could get up early enough to return the car and play innocent when Der arrived with the donuts.

I struggled up the stairs. Sam followed in the wake of the clothes I peeled off on the way into the bedroom, and we both fell onto the bed.
Damn. I've got to set the clock for seven or I'll never get that car back in time.
The salesperson assured me that the dealership would open around eight in the morning. I suspected that was several hours earlier than they usually began doing business on Sunday morning, but he seemed eager to get his car back. It was probably the thought of the dog drooling all over the upholstery that encouraged him to open early for the return. If anyone were to take the car for a test drive after I returned it, it certainly would need washing outside and a thorough cleaning inside.

It seemed as if I just set the alarm when it went off. I reached out for the alarm button and slammed it down to shut off the noise. God, I hated alarms. I wouldn't mind if they woke you up, but instead they terrified you into consciousness.

The phone rang as I was sitting upright in bed. I'm as unfond of phones as I am of alarms. I knew Der would be on the other end of the line, bothering me about something I did that he found annoying.

“Der, you creep. You've got some nerve waking me at this hour. You know I'm not a morning person. Keep your damn croissants for all I care!”

“Uh, Doctor Murphy,” the voice began timidly, then seemed to draw courage from the silence at my end of the line. “This is Mr. Russo at the Mountain Motoring Company. You took one of our cars home with you last night, I believe?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I just wanted to tell you that you'll have to keep it until this afternoon. With all the snow, we're not going to open until one.”

“What? You can't do that. I want to return that car and soon. Soooon.”

“There's no charge for you to drive it a bit longer,” the voice reassured me. “Anyway, even if you did bring it back earlier, you'd never get back home in that car of yours. The roads are impassable. Just keep it for a few more hours. And don't worry about a thing. I'm sure we can get the doggy stuff off the upholstery.”

“I'm not a bit concerned about the doggy stuff. That car goes back and now. You just be there. Tell you what, I'll buy the car but only if I can do it this morning at eight. You draw up the papers, okay?” I was desperate. I had no intention of buying the car. My only thought was to get the evidence of last night's caper out of my garage before Der spied it.

Mr. Russo seemed excited at the thought of a sale and agreed to meet me at the dealership.
Sure, you're excited and cooperative now. You think you're making a sale and you don't have to deal with doggy dirt on your new car.

I picked up my clothes from off the floor and carried them to the bathroom where I ran a hot shower. After dressing in the same clothing I wore last night, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like a bum or a thief. I certainly didn't look as if I could afford a car. So what? I wasn't going to buy the car and any garb would do. I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. Everything would work out just fine. Suddenly I felt so good about the day that I applied a bit of red lipstick.

A quick peek out the window of the living room told me that the storm delivered over a foot of snow, and more was coming down. I opened the door and Sam bounded out, nosing under the deep white powder to find a stick, which she presented to me as if to say, “You ignored me yesterday so you owe me today.”

“Not now, girl. I have to get some coffee on or I'll just die. Tell you what. I'll take you into town with me again in the new car. How's that?” Sam seemed to consider this compromise and acknowledged agreement with the plan by wagging her tail and giving a bark.

As the coffee was brewing, I gazed out the kitchen window, realizing that my sidewalk was buried, as was the drive. If I wanted to bring my little car back home, I'd have to clear out the drive at least. I prayed that the plows would have had a run at the roads or driving the old Toyota would be a real challenge. What if the guy at the dealership was right? What if I couldn't get my car home?

As I finished with the walkway, Sam helping by depositing sticks on the cleared path, I heard the phone in the kitchen ring. I flung down the shovel and launched myself toward the door. The answering machine came on, and Der began to leave a message.

“Hey, Murph,” he said, “still asleep, or not home?”

“I'm right here. It's kind of early. What's up?” I sounded pretty not guilty to my own ear.

“I hope you have something to eat in your fridge cuz I can't make it out there for coffee this morning. The senior investigator wants a briefing on the murder at eleven so I'm tied up,” Der said.

“What do you mean, you're tied up? I thought we had a date.”

“Well, how about we have dinner tonight? I'll pick you up. I don't expect you'll want to meet me anywhere. These roads are pretty treacherous, and I can't see you driving anywhere in that little Toyota of yours, can you?”

I didn't know whether I should feel relief that I didn't have to get the SUV back into town, considering all I did to make that happen, or if I should be angry at myself for going to such lengths to fool Der. I decided I should be angry—at Der.

“I'm out here shoveling snow to clear a path for you and your car and you're not coming?” I yelled into the receiver.

“I'm sorry. We'll make it an early dinner, Okay?”

“Well, maybe.”

“How about this to cheer you? We'll both go visit the fraternity house this evening after dinner. Everyone should be back from the city by then. Unless you don't want to go. Oh, by the way, did you get the messages I left on your answering machine?”

“Uh, no. I haven't had the time to listen to them yet. Sorry I didn't answer the phone when you called. I turned off the ringer upstairs so I didn't hear it.” Lies, lies, lies. The things men forced a woman to do just to have a life.

With the drive and walkway clear, I felt the exhaustion of too little sleep and too much physical exercise set in. I made for my bed with the niggling feeling that I had forgotten something. I thought about the SUV and its sure-footedness and, sighing with contentment, rolled onto my side and slid effortlessly back into sleep.

The phone rang at about ten. I knew the time immediately because my head was turned toward the bedside table and one eye was located a few inches from the clock.

“Der, why are you calling me again? You're supposed to be in a meeting.” Of course I was yelling.

“Dr. Murphy, please don't yell at me again. This is Mr. Russo at Mountain Motoring Company calling again. I came into the office early to draw up the papers on the car as you demanded, er, asked me, and I was wondering what happened to you or to our car, for that matter.”

“Oh, shit. Excuse me. I mean, shucks, it's you. I've been detained. I'll be there in a jiffy.” I hung up the phone, pulled on my clothes again, called for Sam, and ran out of the house into the garage. The snow continued to come down, making the driving challenging even for the SUV. How in the hell was I going to get my poor little car back home?

Mr. Russo met me at the door of the dealership, relieved to see that I indeed showed up with his car. He gestured toward a chair in his office and ran a tiny damp hand over some greasy strands of hair combed to camouflage his balding head.

“You know what?” I shrugged out of my army coat. “Maybe you were right yesterday. Maybe the leather upholstery is more my style. It's easy to clean, right?”

“Yes, sure.” His tone was assuring although perhaps a little less enthusiastic than he might have been if Sam weren't trying to get him to throw the stick she carried into the showroom by dropping it on his shoes.

“And I'll want to take it for a test drive just as with the other one.”

“But Dr. Murphy, they drive much the same. They're the same model. This one just has leather interior in place of the cloth.” Mr. Russo's voice began to take on a distinctive whine.

“No deal then.” I got up from the chair and prepared to leave.

“Fine, fine, take it for a drive, but have it back here in an hour or so.”

“Hour or so? I got to drive the other one overnight. I want this one overnight too. How in the hell can I get back home with my other car in all this snow? That's what these cars are good at, right? Going through snow. So let's go through some snow here. I'll return it tomorrow morning before eight. I have classes at the college at nine.”

Mr. Russo looked as if he would prefer throwing me and my drooling pooch out of the dealership and into the path of a snowplow. But with the hope of becoming salesperson of the month, a distinction that was recently taken from him by a younger, more aggressive, newer hire, (I saw the picture prominently displayed on the wall at the entrance), he reluctantly gave in, agreeing that I could take the car overnight. Since the leather interior cost more, the higher commission he would realize from its sale would more than offset all his trouble, if he didn't figure in the cost of cleaning his shoes of snow and drool and the time he spent earlier this morning waiting for me to show. I knew all he really hoped for was for me to be gone and for his wife to forgive his coming into the dealership on a snowy Sunday morning.

“Fine.” He wiped a bit of moisture from the corners of his eyes. “Take it, for as long as you like. I'm sure you and your dog will find it very comfortable and easy to drive on these roads.”

“Don't be silly. I have no intention of letting my dog drive this car no matter what the road conditions.”

I grabbed the keys from his outstretched hands and turned to go. As Sam and I drove out of the dealership, I could see through the windows that Mr. Russo had his head down on his desk. I could have sworn his shoulders were shaking as if he were crying.

“That man,” I said to Sam, “ought not to be dealing with the public if he can't handle a little sales resistance.”

Chapter 12

I left the SUV in the drive pulled to one side so that Der would have room for his car. I played with Sam in the yard, hoping to satisfy her appetite for stick chasing enough that I could resume my nap without having Sam nudging me for attention every five minutes. The adventures of yesterday and today wore out both of us, and we headed for bed.

Several hours later, I awoke a bit more refreshed than I was earlier in the day. A hot shower and some coffee completed my climb to consciousness. The snowplow came by several times later in the afternoon as I was working at my desk. I saw Der's headlights reflected on the wall opposite my desk just as I shut down my computer. My stomach rumbled, and I realized how hungry I was.

“Anybody home?”

Sam greeted him noisily, running around and around him, challenging him to grab her, then dashing beyond his reach.

“I'm starved,” I said as I entered the kitchen. “Settle down, Sam. You had your play time today and a lot of it, too.”

“Say, what's with the SUV in the drive?”

“Oh, that. I'm test driving it. I just got it today.” Not a lie, not yet.

“How did you get into town today with your car? The roads are dreadful.”

I should have been better prepared for this line of questioning, but I was not, so I did the best I could.

“I drove very slowly, very, very slowly.”

“Why today of all days?”

“A great deal. Test drive a car today and get ten per cent off the price. I heard it on the radio. It was a snow day sale. Can you believe it?” I hoped he would.

“Can we take it into town? Let me give it a whirl.”

“Fine.” I was only too happy that the subject of how I got the car was left behind.

I grabbed for the army coat on the hook in the kitchen, then quickly changed my mind.

“It's really gotten cold out, Murph. You may just want that coat.”

“I thought I'd put on something more presentable for our dinner.”
Something that frat boy wouldn't recognize.

“Dinner first or the frat house?” Der said as we sped down the road, snow swirling in our wake.

“Dinner.”

*

The snow diminished, and I could see patches of moonlight coming through the clouds. What a storm. I was glad it was over. I hated winters in these hills, especially the commute into the campus. Maybe I should give serious consideration to buying this SUV. Der whistled a tuneless song through his teeth, intent upon the road.

“Great little car,” he said. He turned into the parking lot of the diner. “So you're really going to buy it? It's about time you got reliable transportation, especially with the winter that's being predicted.”