Chapter 33

 

Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, sits approximately in the middle of the state and as the nearest town to Elephant Butte Lake is a fairly major recreation attraction during the summer months. April being a bit pre-season for boating, I was able to get a room at one of the many lovely little strip motels after a long rigmarole of delivering my damaged Jeep to a fenced yard of other broken toys, clearing my possessions out of it and renting a plain-vanilla sedan to get myself home. I indulged in that most comfortable of comfort food, Kentucky Fried Chicken, and took my little boxed dinner to the room. The desk clerk was kind enough to provide me with a toothbrush, toothpaste and comb. I suppose my slightly battered face accounted for the sympathetic glances I received everywhere.

Fortified with food and pain meds, I took a deep breath and called home.

“I’m fine, hon, but there’s not much way I want to drive back to Albuquerque tonight,” I said, after glossing over the basics of my day.

“El Paso? When did that idea come up?”

I admitted the trip had been very spur-of-the-moment, but made something of a deal out of the new twist in the hunt for Jay Livingston.

“Okay, then. I’ve got Freckles here at the house,” he said. “Ron brought her by when he left the office for the day, concerned that you weren’t back yet. You might want to give him a call.”

My head pounded some more at the thought, but I did it. Ron wasn’t pleased to hear about the lukewarm response from the El Paso police, and I got the feeling he didn’t hold much hope of catching up with Bobby Lorrento’s diamond ring anytime soon. Finally, I told him I was achy and exhausted and would have to postpone any further lectures until tomorrow because, dammit, I wanted to go to sleep now.

Muscles were seriously cramping up now and, although I couldn’t remember what time I’d last taken ibuprofen, I loaded up on more before peeling off my clothes and crawling between the sheets. Sleep lasted exactly as long as the pills. Four hours after taking them, I rolled over and felt every ache and pain again.

I indulged myself in a good bout of self pity, wanting my husband and my dog and my own bed. Seeing as how none of them materialized, no matter how much I whined about it, I took more pills and tried pacing the room a few times to walk off some of the soreness.

My body wanted rest but my mind was awhirl. This ill-conceived trip had certainly complicated my life. One of the first steps, I supposed, would be to call my insurance company and find out how long it would take to get my Jeep back in working order. According to the little wallet card, they had a 24-hour number to call for claims, and since I wasn’t getting back to sleep on the hard-as-a-board mattress anytime soon, I called it.

A benefit, I discovered, of placing a business call at one o’clock in the morning is the call gets answered right away. No sitting on hold, no jingly music ad nauseam. The female voice at the other end wasn’t exactly perky at this hour, but she did offer sympathy about the accident and asked if I was all right. She took all the information and said she would send a claims adjuster to the yard where the Jeep sat, cold and alone. The thought depressed me.

By the time I finished the call, I was tired again but couldn’t shake the antsy feeling. I lay down again and actually dozed for a few hours. By daybreak I decided there was nothing holding me here. I gathered my skimpy possessions and got into my generic rental for the two-hour drive home.

Drake seemed surprised to see me when I walked into the kitchen in time for the coffee he was brewing. He set down the carafe and pulled me close. I moaned a little when his hug squeezed a sensitive muscle and he held me at arm’s length.

“You okay?” he asked, running his finger gently near the cut on my forehead.

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m just going to clean up and change clothes before I head for the office.”

He gave me a firm look, seeing past my brave façade. The truth was, I felt bone tired. My plan to start the day early and continue full speed suddenly didn’t seem so great. He steered me toward a chair at the kitchen table.

“Let me get us some breakfast,” he said, “then you’re going to take it easy all day.”

“Is that an order?” I really hoped it was. Freckles sensed my vulnerability and laid her head on my lap.

I watched as Drake cracked eggs into a bowl and chopped some onions and tomatoes. In very short order he had made an omelet and toast and set a plate in front of me.

“Eat. I’m calling Ron to let him know you won’t be in. After breakfast, you can have a nice, hot shower and then I want you to sleep as long as you possibly can.”

It sounded heavenly. He hovered over me and even wrapped my favorite big fluffy robe around me when I came out of the shower. I barely heard him say something about keeping Freckles out of my way for the day, as he closed the bedroom door behind them. I sank into my luxurious mattress and pulled the bedding over me, cocooned in another dose of muscle relaxers. A brief thought intruded, of talking to Ron about Jay Livingston and the diamond ring, but I shut it firmly out.

The room was dark when I woke, momentarily confused about the time of day when I saw the clock said 8:19. Had I slept nearly twelve hours?

I could hear the soft sounds of the television in the other room, and there was a strip of light under the bedroom door. A shadow crossed it and the door gave a slight rattle. Freckles somehow knew I was awake.

I stretched and discovered I was less sore than I’d been earlier. Slipping into soft sweats and a t-shirt, I brushed my teeth and ran a brush through my hair. The view in the mirror brought me back to reality. The cut on my forehead wasn’t bad, but a huge, purple bruise had bloomed on my right cheek. The red scuff on my chin meant I must have scraped it on the carpeted floor mat. No point in trying to hide it from Drake—he’d already seen it all—but I would have to scrounge up some foundation makeup before I went out in public.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” he teased when I emerged from the bedroom.

“I feel more like Rip Van Winkle. It is still Wednesday, isn’t it?”

“It is. But I would have let you sleep several more hours if you needed them. You’ve been pushing pretty hard recently.”

True. The two trips to El Paso in three days had exhausted me. Not to mention I was tired of all the games between Bobby and Marcie Lorrento and Jay Livingston. For all I knew Marcie and Jay had cooked up the idea of substituting another ring and the two of them might be about to head south for a lengthy vacation together. It wouldn’t hurt my feelings at all if they did so, as long as Bobby didn’t try to break down our door again.

“You have a few messages,” Drake said. He’d paused his TV show and left the couch. He pointed at a note lying on the coffee table. “Want something to eat?”

I picked up the slip of paper. “No, thanks. I’m fine for now.”

“Oh, besides that one, Ron called to see if you were coming in today. That was around noon and I told him not to count on it. I guess he wanted to tell you about some pawnshop guy. And Victoria offered to bring soup, but I assured her we already had a pot of stew from Elsa. It’s in the fridge, whenever you’re ready for it.”

“Wow. Lot of fuss over my tiredness.”

“And the accident. Everyone’s concerned.” He nodded toward the paper in my hand. “That’s the insurance adjuster who went out to look at your Jeep.”

The note only contained a name and phone number.

“He didn’t give you any information?”

“Well, yeah, he did. It’s not good. He said the body damage to the rear hatch, door and quarter-panel would cost more to repair than the vehicle’s current value. So, they’re going to total it and give you the book value.”

I sighed. “I was afraid of that. All the way home I was thinking about it. Sally had a repair job done on her van awhile back and I was astounded at how much body work costs. Hers was minor and it was over a thousand dollars.”

“The man suggested you can keep the car if you’d rather, spend just enough to get it running again and not repair the body damage.”

“Yeah, and drive around in a bashed vehicle with doors that barely open and close.” I remembered having to give a hard shove just to get my driver door open. “I don’t see that working out too well.”

“We could go car shopping tomorrow.”

Next to dental procedures, I hate car shopping the most. The whole scene where you walk onto a car lot and immediately become targeted by every sales person around. No … no … don’t make me do it.

“I’ll think about it. Maybe I’ll have some of that stew after all.” I wandered toward the kitchen, halfway wishing I’d just stayed in bed.