Venus in Blue Jeans (37 page)

She was still scared.

It didn’t make any sense, of course. Brody was long gone, and anyway, there wasn’t any reason for him to attack Margaret. She couldn’t possibly be regarded as a threat to him, and she had Ham volunteering to protect her.

It didn’t matter. Every night she felt the same slight thrill of terror as she was falling asleep, and sometimes she woke up knowing her dreams had been bad even though she couldn’t remember them exactly. At least she’d managed to start sleeping again, without having to resort to the pills the doctor in Austin had prescribed. He’d also suggested she might benefit from seeing a psychiatrist to “work out her anxieties”. Margaret had filed that suggestion away under ideas that didn’t rate thinking about.

But she hated the feeling, all the same. Being frightened made her angry, made her impatient, made her resent losing her old life, her old self. All she really wanted to do was go back to being Margaret Hastings again, with her old position as the Acknowledged Social Ruler of Konigsburg. Was that too much to ask?

When her door opened around eleven, she expected the nurse with her lunch. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but at least it would give her something to do. She’d already made a mental list of changes that should be made immediately in the menu, categorized in terms of items to be thrown out and items to be prepared differently. She also had a few suitable remarks for the lame-brained chef who’d dared to send her vinyl-based Jell-o.

She looked up, arranging her best don’t-mess-with-me smile, to see Cal Toleffson filling her doorway.

Margaret goggled. She couldn’t help it. He was perhaps the last person she’d expected to have visit her in the hospital. Well, the third last, after Docia Kent and Chief Brody.

It took her a moment to adjust her face back to her Innocent Victim expression. Her mind raced. Was he still with Docia? She hadn’t thought to ask anybody, but maybe she should have. Maybe they’d broken up. Thank heaven she had on the silky blue nightgown with the pink rosebuds.

“Why hello, Cal. How good of you to come and see me.” Margaret figured that sounded nauseatingly humble enough. She stretched her lips in a trembling smile that implied patient suffering.

He moved tentatively toward the chair next to her bed. “Hi, Margaret, how are you feeling?”

Okay, this one was a slam dunk—she had the answer down pat. “Oh, you know, some days are better than others.” She turned up Patient Suffering a notch to Long Suffering.

“Oh.” He turned away toward the begonia on her bedside table. “Pretty flowers.”

“Yes, Ham brought them in. He’s here almost every day.” There, let him stew about that. She had other irons in the fire, although, granted, they didn’t burn all that brightly.

“Nice of him.” Cal turned back to her again. He didn’t look sympathetic. If anything, he looked mildly anxious to be gone.

Margaret frowned. That wouldn’t do at all. “The Konigsburg Merchants Association sent that one.” She gestured to a large bunch of varicolored daisies in a red plastic vase near the window. They’d already lost some of their freshness. Trust Arthur to go for the less expensive bouquet.

“Good. That’s good.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and huffed a sigh. “The thing is, Margaret, I’ve got Pep.”

Margaret frowned. Was he talking about his stamina? Was this an overture to something sexual? “You’ve got pep?” she echoed.

“Yeah, I mean Pepe. Señor Pepe, that is.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Your dog.”

“I know who Señor Pepe is,” she snapped. She’d managed not to think about the little weasel during the time she’d been in the hospital, although she’d been vaguely curious about what had become of him. He sure hadn’t done much to protect her from Brody. She wasn’t even sure where he’d been when Brody came out of the store. “Where did you find him?”

“In the alley behind Docia’s store. He must have run away after you were…attacked.” Cal’s lips narrowed.

Of course he ran out into the alley. Clearly, he hadn’t made any effort to save his mistress, not like a truly loyal pet would have done. While he might not have been able to drive Brody off, Margaret would have appreciated a few warning yips at least.

“Well, thank you for keeping him.” She sighed. “I can’t take him back now, obviously. Maybe after I’ve been home for a few weeks.” Maybe she could palm the mutt off on someone if she told them she wasn’t up to taking care of him.

“That’s okay.” He smiled. “I’m pretty used to him now. In fact, I thought maybe we could work out a deal. I’d be glad to buy him from you.”

“Buy him?” Margaret stared at him. She’d considered asking him to find someone who’d take the dog off her hands, but money hadn’t occurred to her.

He nodded. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Pep’s a hero now. He helped me find Docia after Brody dumped her at the ranch. I couldn’t have done it without him.”

A faint ringing sounded in Margaret’s ears that had nothing to do with her head injury. The stupid little mutt hadn’t seen fit to help his own mistress, but he’d saved Docia Kent! She’d sell him down the river to a puppy mill before she’d see him in Cal Toleffson’s hands. Long Suffering morphed immediately into Don’t Mess With Me.

“Oh, Cal, I’m sorry,” she said through gritted teeth, “but I couldn’t possibly part with my Precious.”

Mama arrived at the barn around eleven, shortly after Cal had left for the hospital. She had Pep tucked under her arm, but he soon scrambled loose to sniff around the house, looking for Cal.

Mama smiled after him. “What a sweetie.”

“I may send him home with you if Margaret Hastings won’t let Cal have him.” Docia filled Pep’s water bowl and set it on the floor. “That or maybe place him in the Chihuahua Protection Program.”

“Oh, well, we can always send your father over to talk to her. Nothing he can’t sell to the young and gullible. Janie filled me in on the library fund, by the way.” Her mother shook her head. “Noble, honey, but a little expensive.”

Docia’s lips thinned. “I’ll take care of it.”

“No you won’t.” Her mother dug through the upscale duffle bag that doubled as her purse, handing her a receipt. “Your father and I paid the bill.”

Docia inhaled quickly, but her mother put her hand on her arm. “Let us do it, honey. Your daddy and I need to pay for you now and then. It doesn’t mean you aren’t your own woman. But you’re also our little girl.”

Docia blinked at her. Mama went back to her purse, pulling out a stack of papers. “Here’s the stuff on the map. The Rangers took it into protective custody, more or less.”

Docia frowned. “Is it real?”

“Nobody knows yet. And since they also don’t know where Dub got it, chances are there’ll be questions no matter what the experts decide.” Mama shrugged. “Not your problem, baby.”

“Nope. I’m concentrating on Pep right now.”

“Don’t worry, Billy will think of something if we need to.” Mama reached into her purse again and pulled out a box of dog treats. “He bought these last night when we brought Pepe back to the room at the Woodrose. Your father let him sleep at the foot of the bed.”

Docia worked to keep her jaw from dropping. “You and Daddy shared a room?”
And a bed?

“Well, we are married, darlin’. It’s perfectly legal.” Her mother gave her a rather smug smile.

Docia sat in the nearest kitchen chair. “But you’re separated.”

“Yes we are, and we’ll probably stay that way, at least for the time being.” Mama shrugged. “We never stopped loving each other, darlin’. We just stopped living together. And actually, it works out better for us if we don’t.”

“But if you love each other…” Docia felt as if her mental wheels were spinning.

Mama’s lips thinned. “Not every marriage works the same way, Docia Mae. And not all of them work at all. But what happened to you shook your father up good. Me too. We both decided life is way too short for us to stay snotty with each other.”

Her mother extended her arms and once again Docia moved into them. Mama smoothed a hand over her hair as if she were still five years old. “Now, look here, darlin’, if you’re holding off on that yummy doc because of Daddy and me, you can just stop it. Billy and I were always like oil and water. From what I can tell, you and Cal are like…Mazola and Wesson, or something. For heaven’s sake, go for it!”

Docia took a deep breath and stared up into her mother’s cornflower gaze. “It wasn’t so much you and Daddy as me and Donnie. I was being sort of an idiot.”

“I’d say so.” Her mother nodded quickly. “Letting Donnie Branscombe run your life even after you got rid of him doesn’t strike me as very smart.”

Docia sighed, chewing on her lip. “It wasn’t. The real question is whether Cal can trust me again after I screwed up so badly.”

Mama’s lips moved into a slow smile. “Aw, darlin’, I wouldn’t worry about that. He may not be from around here, but he doesn’t strike me as an idiot.”

Idiot! Why the hell did you tell her Pep rescued Docia?
Cal stared into Margaret’s large, brown, furious eyes. “Did I mention I’d be willing to pay?”

“You think I’d take money for my Precious?” Her chin rose to a dangerous angle. “What kind of woman do you think I am, Cal?”

Cal ran through a lot of appropriate words for the kind of woman she was, but it didn’t seem like the type of thing to share. “Maybe Horace and I could find you another dog.” He tried to keep his voice level. “We get lots of notices about puppies at the clinic. I know Pep caused some problems for you. Maybe a less high-maintenance breed.”
One made out of stuffed plush, for example.

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my dog, Doctor. High maintenance or not. We always got along fine.”

Cal restrained himself from pointing out that she’d said the opposite less than five minutes before. “I’m sure you can when you’re back on your feet, Margaret,” he soothed. “Pep was in excellent physical condition.” Mentally a mess, but physically good.

“Besides, I’ve missed him.” Margaret reached for a Kleenex, dabbing at nonexistent tears. “And he’s probably missed me too. We were very close, the two of us.”

Cal stared at her, helplessly. He’d been as fair as he knew how to be. He’d exhausted every legitimate, honest argument he could think of.

Time to turn to illegitimate and dirty.

“As I said, I found Pep in the alley behind Docia’s store the day after Brody attacked you.” He leaned back in his chair, careful not to look directly at Margaret. “He got out through the back gate that I accidentally left unlocked. I meant to put out the trash bags we’d filled before we left, but I didn’t get around to it. Funny about that. We had five or six full bags of trash Docia and I and some other people had picked up after the reception, all ready for the garbage truck. But the next day we found somebody had ripped all the bags open and thrown the trash around the yard.”

Margaret became very still. She sat with her head up, eyes staring straight ahead. He studied the view from her window.

“I guess we all figured the burglar must have thrown the trash around the yard for some reason, but since we know now the burglar was Brody, that doesn’t make any sense, does it? I mean, Brody was there to look for the map, not to mess up Docia’s backyard. He wouldn’t want to waste time with petty vandalism, would he?”

He turned to watch Margaret directly now. She looked down at her hands, clasped against the sheet in front of her. Her face had turned almost the same color as the sheet.

“Whoever vandalized Docia’s yard had time to really strew that trash around.” Cal took a deep breath and stared at her bowed head. “Brody didn’t. You were right there when he walked out the back door, weren’t you?”

Margaret swallowed, the muscles of her throat moving visibly.

For a moment, Cal felt mildly guilty—she looked so frightened.
Pep. Remember Pep.

“Yes,” she muttered, “I was there.”

“Maybe you heard someone tearing up Docia’s yard and came to check it out. Was that how it happened, Margaret?” He smiled winningly, his most reassuring smile, the one he used with cats who were about to get a rabies shot.

“Yes!” Margaret nodded so quickly he was afraid she might hurt her head again. “That’s exactly what happened. I was out walking Señor Pepe, and I heard someone in her yard. And I knew no one was supposed to be there because, after all, her big party was all over and the yard was dark. So I went to check, and the gate was open, and…”

She caught herself then, a moment too late.

“So then you must have seen who did it, didn’t you? I mean if you heard them and came over to investigate, they must still have been throwing trash around.” Cal smiled again. Much less reassuringly.

“They…” She stopped, lips tight, then began again. “They ran out before I got there.”

“Out the gate?” He raised his eyebrows. “But you’d have to have been very close to hear them. Nobody else did. The police checked with the neighbors.”

“I was…” Margaret swallowed. “Yes, I was close by. I came up the alley. Walking my dog.”

“So they came out the gate and saw you and then ran away? But then, like I said, you must have seen them, seen who it was, I mean. Did you tell the police? Or anyone else? The vandals could be witnesses against Brody, once they catch him, that is.” He spread his lips, but it wasn’t really a smile anymore.