| |
“What do you think about the plans for the development?” Ryan asked Gideon in the evening after they returned home. They had take-out Mexican food and were munching on chips and salsa, hot and spicy just as they both liked.
“I like it, of course.” Gideon hesitated. He dipped his chip in the queso dip for a change. “Why didn’t you order hardwood floors at least for the model home to impress the would-be buyers?”
“Like all the other builders, I did that in Las Vegas and buyers were quite unhappy to find out that - just an example – the house base price was $300,000. If they wanted any other improvement that they liked, hardwoods or a bow window in the living room or even a deck in the back of the house, it would cost them extra. In fact, the model house with all the extras reached almost a hundred thousand dollars more than the base price. I wanted here to have a pretty model house which doesn’t cost much more than the base price. As much as I can, I’m going to include all the improvements in the price up front.”
“I see your point. It’s good, although it would look so much nicer with hardwoods.”
“The selling agent will mention that if the buyers contract for a house not yet built they can have all the extras they want. And I was thinking that the second house, the one where we started the foundation, will be bigger. It will have two floors plus basement and will have more improvements including hardwood floors. Also it will cost more. Let me show you the plans.”
“I’ve seen the lot where that house will be built. There is a little ravine in the back and the house will be higher than whatever will be built behind it. So it will always have a nice view.”
Ryan looked on the small table where he always placed his papers when he returned home. The blueprints and the plans for the whole development were not there. Where did he leave them? “Did I leave my blueprints in your truck? I’m going to look for them.”
Gideon looked up from his enchiladas. “No, I don’t think you did.”
The blueprints were not in the truck and Ryan concluded that he left them on the counter in the model home. “Can I borrow your truck to go to the model home? I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
Gideon wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Do you want me to come with you?”
Ryan looked at Cleo, sleeping peacefully curled on her special pillow near the fireplace. “No need. Stay here with Cleo and finish your meal. Save me some chips and salsa.” He caught deftly the car keys that Gideon threw him and ran out to the truck parked at the curb.
In ten minutes, he was at the model house. It was dark and the electricity was not connected during the night. Mike was still working on it. Ryan turned on his flashlight and unlocked the door. In the kitchen, he found his blueprints spread on the countertop.
He should set up his office in one of the bedrooms. A desk and a file cabinet would do for starters. There was no point to lease a trailer. Besides he could be here permanently in case an interested person had questions or wanted to see more of the house. He piled the blueprints up and rolled them when a small note fluttered and landed on the floor. Ryan picked it up and brought it closer to the light.
‘I need ten grants immediately. Bring the money to the bowling alley tonight. Don’t fail me.’ It was not signed. Strange. Ryan placed it in his pocket. Was someone blackmailing the previous contractor Harvey? Or was Harvey intending to blackmail someone else and the note got lost? Was it simply forgotten or maybe not sent? He’d have to find the answer later. Ask Jeff first. Although if Jeff knew more, he’d have told Ryan. Obviously Jeff knew nothing more about his contractor and his shady dealings.
Once all his papers were rolled together, Ryan grabbed his flashlight to light his way out of the house. Behind him a board squeaked. Probably one not well set on the underflooring. He had to talk to Waylon about it.
Thinking Gideon had come after him, he wanted to ask him why. Then he remembered that he took Gideon’s truck and the younger man had no vehicle to drive. All this went through his mind in a fraction of a second.
He tried to turn around when he was hit at the back of his head and he fell to the floor unconscious. His assailant ruffled through the rolled paper, didn’t find what he was looking for and frustrated threw them down and left the house in haste running to the end of next street where he left his own car hidden behind a fence.
Later, Ryan felt a warm doggy breath on his cheek. “Cleo, stop that. I’m okay.”
“I wouldn’t call that okay, dude. Sprawled on the floor with another goose egg on your head,” Gideon told him, helping him to sit up. “Are you feeling woozy?”
“I’ve been better,” Ryan mumbled. “How did you drive here?”
“Time went by, more than you needed to go and come back. Then Cleo was becoming agitated and your neighbor TJ Lomax came to ask you something. He offered me the use of his own car to drive here and to see what happened. And it’s a good thing I did. You get hit in the head quite often.”
“TJ offered you his car?” Ryan asked not so much because he was curious but more for making some sense in what happened. He had a headache, was dizzy, and it was like a fog was shrouding his brain.
“Yep, a shiny Grand Marquis. I’ll be the envy of all the retirees. I’m taking you to the hospital, dude.”
“No, hospital,” Ryan protested faintly.
“Yes, we are going.”
Ryan looked at the papers spread all over the floor. “Please gather all these and let’s take them with us. I think he was interested in the plans or some details from these papers.” His head was aching like crazy and he didn’t remember well how it all happened.
Gideon helped him up, then picked Cleo up and took them to the car. Not listening to any more protests, he drove Ryan straight to the hospital.
As luck would have it, while waiting to be called in the examining room, he heard a well-known voice on the hallway.
“The idiot jumped from the second floor to the ground hoping to escape us. Instead, he broke his leg.”
Ryan tried to stay low in his chair hoping to escape unobserved when Cleo pushed her head out of his jacket curious to see what was going on.
“Ryan Calhoun,” Deputy Lockhart exclaimed as he stopped in front of Ryan’s chair. “Are you sick?”
Gideon, who was waiting nearby, was actually happy to see the deputy. “He’s been attacked and hit in the head a second time,” he imparted the news without restraint.
The deputy was scratching Cleo behind her ears and the little dog liked it instead of growling at him. “Attacked, really?” He straightened and took out a notebook. “When did this happen?” he asked, all business now.
“Right now at the new house and two days ago on the country road,” Gideon told him eager to be helpful.
Afraid Gideon would embellish the facts with his own ideas due to his vivid imagination, Ryan had no choice but to tell the deputy what happened in his own words.
The deputy looked briefly at Ryan’s recently acquired goose egg at the back of his head and placed his notebook in his pocket. “Let me know if you remember anything new.” He turned to go, but then changed his mind and chucked Cleo again under her chin. “Where did you find this cutie?”
“The vet gave her to me a few days ago as a welcome gift.”
The deputy hid his smile. “Our sheriff’s wife is famous for her love of animals and for finding homes to the strays.”
“Cleo is not going to be with me for long. I’m a busy man. I’ve decided to leave her at my brother’s ranch,” Ryan said looking at the little dog who fit her head under his chin as she liked to do.
“Are you trying to fool me or yourself?” the deputy asked and saluting he left the room.
Ryan transferred the little dog to Gideon who hid her inside a duffel bag he carried with him and Ryan went with the doctor in the examining room. He was poked and prodded and tested in all ways for his reflexes. In the end, the doctor decided he’d live, but that he should stay overnight in the hospital to be sure he didn’t have a concussion.
Ryan overrode this and told Gideon to take him home. Gideon protested, but he did as he was told. To Ryan’s big surprise, he found Polly waiting and pacing back and forth in front of the house.
“Polly, what are you doing here?” Ryan asked surprised. Then he saw Gideon’s guilty face. “You told her.”
“I figured that your girlfriend should know that you are hurt,” Gideon explained.
Ryan opened his mouth to deny that Polly was his girlfriend, but she beat him to the explanations. “I would have found out anyhow. Shirley, the receptionist at the hospital saw you and told her cousin who works at the bistro and she told Kathleen, who’s my friend and she called me to warn me,” Polly said.
Gideon winked at him at the end of the explanation. “Small town. Nothing is a secret.”
Polly was looking at him anxious, honestly worried for him and fearful she’d overstepped some boundaries by coming here. He couldn’t stand this any longer. He opened his arms widely. “Come here.” With a small cry of relief, she flew to him, relived that he was all right and that he was not upset with her. It was a novel experience for him to have someone care about his well-being. Strangely, he enjoyed this fuzzy warm feeling.
Inside the house, Gideon deposited Cleo on her special pillow where she promptly fell asleep as it was way past her bedtime.
“I’ll sleep here on the couch,” Polly announced.
Gideon smiled at Ryan and went whistling to his own room. The message was clear – you’re in good hands, relax.
“Polly, this is an old couch and probably uncomfortable. I meant to replace it, but I had no time.”
She touched his cheek. “It doesn’t matter. I want to check on you throughout the night to make sure you’re all right. A concussion can be dangerous. Not to mention I’m worried about the mad man who attacked you. What if he comes back?”
“Not in this house he won’t.”
“How do you know?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I believe it is all connected to the construction site and the development place.” He was holding her close and was distracted by a subtle flowery smell. He buried his nose in her hair. A fresh smell, but not flowery. He lowered his nose to her neck to investigate. It was her skin and it smelled of sweet roses. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
“Ryan?”
Yes, he had no business kissing Polly’s neck no matter how tempting it felt and smelled. It was not done between friends and it would give her... and him the wrong idea.
He was still confused by the hit to his head he took. Certainly, this was it. It had to be. He couldn’t be attracted to Polly. They were only friends, weren’t they?
So he took himself to bed.