Shuffle

Shuffle Chapter One

2009-04-15T10:00:00.000-05:00

In the eighth grade I wore a size 34D. With a big bra full of chest and a given name of Tana Rose, I realized I could have a career stripping at the Dirty Sock south of town. Trying to avoid that fate, I told my friends and family to call me T.R.

According to my folks, stripping would have been a wiser choice of vocation than what I’m doing now. I deal Texas Hold’em in an underground (as in illegal) card room. Not to brag, but I run one of the most popular poker tables in Central Texas. And Texas has a lot of underground poker tables.

My family thinks I’m going to hell ─ or to jail, whichever comes first ─ and glow red with embarrassment whenever someone asks them what little T.R.’s doing since she stupidly (implied but not stated) left that great CPA firm she started working for right out of college.

I’m just surprised anyone needs to ask that question since everyone in my town seems to know everything about each other’s business.

In my defense, I tried hard to fit into the facts and figures career I went to college for but the job just wasn’t a good flop for me. The hours made me miserable. There just aren’t many accounting jobs out there that match my body’s sleep cycle. I’m wide awake all night, tossing, turning, reading, pacing; but daylight finds me with my head on my desk, eyes closed, mouth drooling.

So when I heard about this poker gig from a buddy, who had a friend, who knew someone, who was acquainted with a guy who had put the word out that he wanted a big-boobied dealer for friendly games of Texas Hold‘em, I knew I qualified.

Big boobs I got. Texas Hold‘em I love. The fact that gambling is illegal in Texas I’m not so keen about but great tips kind of put unlawful way in the back of my mind. Three nights in a poker room more than equal a really good paycheck of a fifty-hour workweek.

I’m thirty-four now, living the life my sleep rem was designed for, but I'm still touchy about what folks call me. So when some guy called me the ‘C’ word and tried to open the passenger door of my truck, I kinda freaked.

“Cunt!” he yelled. “HEY, CUNT! Open the door!”

I let out a startled squeal and almost wet my pants. My eyes jerked to the door locks, making sure they were safely in the locked position. When I looked up again, the drenched would-be intruder wasn’t even looking at me. He was staring down the street. The brim of his cowboy hat drooped under the weight of rainwater, making it impossible for me to see his face.

Whoever he was, he stopped pulling my door handle and rushed away. That’s when I stomped on the gas pedal.

It was my own fault the dripping dude had surprised me. I had pulled my current read from my purse at a long red light in the downtown warehouse district and was digesting a couple of paragraphs from the blistering bestseller. The rain on the roof and the sluggish thud, thud, thud of the wiper blades provided a perfect background rhythm to read by, although for the steamy parts I would have preferred a rapid, more deliberate pulsing.

Between the book and the blades, I didn’t even care that the light had cycled through green several times. It helped, of course, that all the traffic in town was coagulating around the university at this time of day, leaving my intersection as empty as a steer’s scrotum.

Attempted panhandling, robbery, or truckjacking, whatever the cowboy’s goal, it was a first for me. On the upside, I guess I should have been thankful. The soaked saddlebum made me realize I could have been home reading in my own comfy bed instead of sitting at an intersection in my brother’s borrowed truck.

He didn’t have to call me names, though.

The back end of the truck slipped sideways on the wet street when I hit the gas and I felt rather than heard a thump on the passenger side of the pickup.

OhmygodIranoverhim, I thought as I slammed on the brakes and jammed the transmission into park. Jumping down out of the big one-ton rig, I ran around the front of the pickup, fully expecting to find an injured man pinned under the tires.

But nobody lay dead or dying. Nobody was even there.

“Quit playin’ around, Runt!” I heard from the driver’s side door. “Get in! I need your truck now.”

Runt? Not Cunt?

Oh. Handle puller knew my brother Runt, apparently well enough to call him by his nickname. It was also obvious my brother’s friend hadn’t looked below my neck yet. Even though Runt and I look alike we do have our differences.

Whoever he was, he now stood between me and the steering wheel. Leaping from the duelie definitely didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.

The cowboy’s eyes widened as he turned and focused on my cleavage. He didn’t even glance at my face.

“Tana? Tana Rose? DamnitTanaRose! Getinthetruck!”

OK. He knew who I was just by looking at my boobs. And since he knew my full name, he had to be somebody I knew before high school.

“Tanarose! Now!” Runt’s buddy said as he grabbed the open driver’s door and swung up into the vehicle. Before the door closed on his blue-jeaned butt, I heard him say, “Yeah, I need to report a stolen truck.”

I stood in the rain wondering what I should do and why he was reporting a stolen truck to me, especially since it was my truck he was stealing. Then it dawned on me. I knew that rear end. That tight tush belonged to Shade Saunders, or he had a rump double.

“Hey, girlie,” a deep voice behind me said. “Come over here.”

I turned around just in time to see a scummy bum make a grab at my arm.

Whoa. This downtown area was getting scary. I slapped his hand away and took a step backwards.

“You bitch,” the damp derelict said, making another grab at me.What is it with the name calling today, I thought, but I didn’t hesitate. I turned and ran the couple of steps to the duelie’s passenger door. I heard a thunk as it electronically unlocked and I hustled myself into the truck.

“Hey, you’re suppose to come with me!” the man behind me yelled. Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna do that.

I glanced back just as the grubby guy stuck his hand down his pants. Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I settled myself into the passenger seat. It was either go with Shade or stay to see what the bum was digging into his britches for. Going with Shade seemed the wiser choice, but not by much.

As I slammed the door shut, I gave the bum one more quick look. Was that a pistol he was pointing at me? He had a gun in his briefs? I had completely missed that bulge, not that I’d given him that close a gander.

“That man has a…,” I started to say but the duelie leaped into action, slamming the back of my skull into the headrest and sending the lava novel I was reading skidding to the floorboards.

“Yes, that’s right,’ Shade said. “Downtown Bryan. Corner of Main and Sims.”

Now what’s Shade talking about, I thought as I tried to clear my head. First he tells me he stole my truck. Now he’s telling me where he stole it. He must have been bucked on his head one too many since the last time I saw him.

“Shade…,” I started to say but he waved me quiet and forced the truck into a tight right turn, followed by a hard, shuddering left. Empty beer cans in the bed of the pickup clattered back and forth, and suddenly I felt Tilt-a-Whirl queasy. “Dammit, Shade! Stop before you kill us!” I said. As an afterthought, I added, “That man back there pointed a gun at me!”

Shade’s driving improved slightly, and he looked my way, shaking his head. “I doubt it,” he said, “on both of those statements.” His eyes swept from my chest back to the road ahead. That’s when I noticed a phone earbud on the other side of his head. “My name is Shade Saunders,” he said, looking at my face this time but talking to someone on the other end of his phone. He winked and smiled the Shade-smile that’s made hundreds of Texas women fall in love with him…or want to make love to him.

Not me, of course. After dating Shade in high school and then again in college, I’m as immune to his smile as if I’d swallowed a dollop of live vaccine on a sugar cube, although the threat of an outbreak is always present when you mix together his matured assets and package them under a straw cowboy hat.

Like the old song says, don’t call him a cowboy ‘til you see ‘m ride. And lord knows, Shade could ride anything. Any horse. Any bull. Any truck, apparently, too. And it goes without saying, any woman he wanted.

Shade with his taut buns, broad shoulders, and cowboy ways. Who always smelled like leather, newly-mown hay, and manly-man sweat. I shook my head again.

Several blocks ahead a squad car with flashing lights turned onto the street. I thought I saw Shade’s old primer gray pickup fishtailing in front of the cops. I was on the edge the truck seat, one hand gripping the dash and the other trying to grab the skittering book before it lodged itself under the brake pedal.

Shade was still talking. “…just a minute…yes, down North Parker Street near John’s Transmission…you’re in my way…yes, north…no, not there.”

He spoke calmly as he concentrated on the evolving car chase. With his eyes focused forward and a phone headset in his ear, his conversation was very disconcerting. I couldn’t tell when he was talking to me, talking on the phone, or talking to himself.

“…OK, I’ll back off from following…,” he finally said. “But my competition saddle’s on the rear seat of that pickup and I’ll need it this weekend, whether you have to impound the truck or not…Thanks, Case…No, I don’t need a ride. I’m with T.R….Yeah, Tana Rose, the stripper, herself…No, we’re not dating again. Not yet anyway. But I’ll say this for her, she could enter and win any wet t-shirt contest in the area…Very funny. No, that was after my truck was stolen…OK, I’ll have her call you.”

He poked a finger at his ear and finally turned his full attention to me. “Your friend Casey wants you to call her with details,” he said, lifting both hands from the steering wheel to make those annoying quote gestures. “Leave that damn book alone, Tana Rose. What are you doing in Runt’s truck?”

Shade made a u-turn and started driving away from his old clunker of a truck and the squad car chasing it. He gave a quick, concerned glance into the rearview mirror.

“Oh. You talking to me now?” I said. “Then don’t call me Tana Rose. And what I drive is my business.”

Shade cut his eyes to me, then focused back on the street ahead. “That wet t-shirt almost makes you my business, Tana Rose. In that, you could be my only business. How’d you get so wet? You been dancin’ in this rain?”

Oh, yeah, dancing in the rain with some bum using his Fruit of the Looms as a gun holster.

Shade didn’t give me a chance to reply. “Where can I drop you?” he asked.

“Drop me? I’ll drop YOU!” I said through tight lips. “You’re not taking my ride!”

“Tana Rose, weren’t you listening?”

No, I wasn’t. When conversation comes around to Shade Saunders, I block it out automatically. Rainy days are no exception. And anyway, I was too busy worrying over the gun in the bum’s britches.

Shade kept right on talking. He always did like the sound of his own voice. “My truck was just stolen. I’m on my way to pick up a horse and I need wheels that can pull a horse trailer. This duelie is perfect. I’ll square it with Runt later.”

I furrowed my eyebrows in doubt. Shade wasn’t Runt’s buddy. They’re friendly whenever they meet by chance, but I don’t see them calling each other to shoot the bull. They’re just not that close. Certainly not close enough to ‘square’ this little hijacking. As far as I was concerned, Shade had stolen Runt’s truck and kidnapped his sister.

OK, maybe even I didn’t really buy the kidnapping part. I went along with Shade somewhat willingly, not only to protect my interest in Runt’s vehicle but to get away from the pants-digging, possible pistol-waving bum. But the truck stealing part was true, and you’ve got to be pretty good friends to square that in this state. We used to hang horse thieves here, and truck stealing isn’t that far down the road. We just don’t take that in Texas.

“One more time, Tana Rose. Where’s your car?”

“I borrowed this truck….” I pushed the words through clamped teeth, then remembered Runt didn’t know I had scrounged his beat-up old duelie yet. Well, he might know by now. It’d been a couple of hours since the mechanic had dropped me by my brother’s place to get it. Thankfully, Runt had the bad habit of leaving his keys in the ignition of his vehicles.

“…because my Mustang’s in the shop. And don’t call me Tana Rose.”

“Whatever you say, Stripper. Anyway, I hear you don’t start dealin’ until nine tonight. What else you got to do besides sleep? I’ll come back and get you to the poker room on time.”

Ca-rap. There it is again. The only secret in this town is the fact everyone knows your secrets. Next thing I know I’ll read it in the local paper under the headline “Known Hold‘em Dealer Kidnapped by Local Loco.”

Shade took off his water-deformed hat and slapped it over my chest. “Hang on to this here hat, Tana Rose. A guy can hardly concentrate on driving with those two wet things pointin’ his way.”

I purposely let the hat fall into my lap and let out a menacing murmur at the continued use of my full name. “You must be making another saddle, Shade. You stink! Like leather and sweat and…and horse.” I needed to say something nasty in retaliation for the full name thing. He knows I hate my given name.

We were pretty close to the little two-bedroom bungalow I’d bought last year when I had what the mortgage company calls employment.

“Where’re we going?” I asked.

“Your house.”

Oh? So how does Shade Saunders know where I live? For an old boyfriend he certainly seemed to know a little too much about me.

I sneaked another peek at him while I fumbled for my house keys in my purse. I hadn’t heard of any rumors floating around town about Shade. But then again, how would I know. I work with a bunch of men concentrating on their cards, not a group of women in office jobs, bored with work and dying to share the latest gossip of the day. At least gossip was the highlight of my day when I had a real job.

I assumed Shade was still unattached. No ring had been rolled onto his finger. No notices placed in the newspaper. And anyway, Shade hooking up permanently with a girl would have been major news, traveling from woman to woman with the speed of a spring storm. My phone would have rung on that one.

And I presumed Shade still worked alone. After all, he was a saddle maker and how many Aggies does it take to do that? I also assumed he still attended every rodeo and roping in the state, unless, of course, there was a national rodeo somewhere and then Shade would be there.

He and I may have both graduated high school and college here in town, but he was a working country cowboy, and I was a rodeo hanger-on city cowgirl. That meant I opened and closed the arena gates at the local rodeos for the real cowboys and cowgirls. I had to do something other than dance the two-step to earn the right to wear cowboy boots.

Even though I was over him, Shade was still the best looking man in town. I couldn’t take that away from him if I tried. He’s tan and tall ─ a lot taller than I am and, at five-foot nine, I’m not exactly short. He has the type of arms you’d expect from someone who makes a living by hard work. Biceps and triceps bulge under his shirt sleeves. A dark mustache rips clear across his face and his long brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail. He walks with that knees-bent, lanky cowboy gait that makes a gal wish every floor was a dance floor. I’m not even going to the starched jeans and white shirts. If I went there, I might want to stay.

As I compared my memory of the guy I had dated against the current version of the man driving Runt’s truck, I did a double take. Shade Saunders had a bald spot on top of his head!

“You’re going bald,” I blurted out before my brain could take control of my tongue. I hate it when what I’m thinking flops out of my mouth, bounces off the floor, and smacks me in the forehead before I even realized I’d thought it. It’s a trait prone to get a girl into trouble.

“You’re gettin’ too old to still be single.” His mustache quivered as he talked. “And your tits are sagging.”

Shade stopped the truck at my front walk. “Get out,” he said, looking straight ahead.

That bald spot must be a sensitive subject. I instantly felt bad that I had said anything and thought of apologizing. I opened my mouth but nothing came out. He turned my way and reached towards me.

This could get interesting, I thought, but he stretched right past me, grabbed the door handle, and pushed the door open.

“Time to part ways,” he said.

“I’m taking your hat as collateral,” I said as I jumped out into the rain, slamming the car door behind me.

“And my tits aren’t sagging!”

“Stripper!” I barely heard the insult but the laughter floating back to me as he roared away down the street was loud enough to make me cuss.

“Damn you, Shade Saunders,” I said to nobody. “I hope you never get your truck back.”

I stood in the rain, watching Runt’s duelie get smaller and smaller, and tried to figure out what had just happened. I’d lost two rides in the same amount of hours. One would cost only money to get back in running condition but something told me I’d pay a lot more for the other one, not in coin but with my reputation and my pride.

Damn, damn, damn. And damn again. I’d just traded my only wheels for Shade Saunders’s wet, beat-up cowboy hat! Worse yet, I realized as I walked into my house, the crotch novel I was reading was still in the duelie! To hell with the truck, just give a girl her book back.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Two

2009-04-15T03:25:00.000-05:00

My cell phone lit up when I punched the speed dial button reserved for Runt’s number but he didn’t answer his phone. I knew better than to leave a message. Runt must have at least fifty unanswered messages from frantic people trying to get a hold of him, including Mom and Dad.

I didn’t know Shade’s number. I could call Casey at the police station for it but somehow that seemed a lot of effort just to retrieve a naughty novel. I always know how those kind of books end anyway.

I realized I wouldn’t be getting Runt’s truck back until Shade was done hauling whatever horse he needed to haul. A horse’s ass in the trailer and a horse’s ass driving the truck. What a visual. I just couldn’t decide if I wanted the ass driving the truck to be fully clothed or not.

Anyway, the way I figured it, I’d be getting my chance to get Shade’s number in about twenty minutes. That’s how long it would take before I got a call from Casey wanting to know the details about Shade and me. She’s never been known for her patience, especially when gossip was involved.

A nap before work seemed a priority, even if I knew it would be interrupted by Casey. I stripped out of my wet clothes and slipped into dry ones. Heavy-eyed and bookless, I scrunched down into the couch cushions but sleeping didn’t come real easy without my read. Worrying did, though. I’d borrowed/stolen a vehicle that had been borrowed/stolen from me and I hadn’t even had the dang thing two hours.

Shade’s stealing that truck had screwed up my main plan for the afternoon. I hadn’t mentioned it to anybody because I was too embarrassed but last month I’d stupidly accepted a check for poker chips from Dante Castaneda. A fifteen hundred dollar check! That’s so totally against the rules ─ my rules, house rules, gambling rules, any rules. Pick one.

I couldn’t exchange the check for cash money that night because Dante promptly went on tilt and galloped to broke. The check, of course, turned out to be hot. That’s just so wrong in so many ways.

I admit the situation was partly my fault. I knew better than to cover a player’s chips by taking checks. The owner of the card room sure wouldn’t do it. But Dante and I had a dating history and I’d taken checks from him before. Both the dating and the checks had been good in the past, one of them real good.

Funny how a hot check cooled a sizzling romance. I hadn’t heard from Dante since he wrote the thing. Trying to track him down, I called his little sister Sonja, but she didn’t know where he was either.

Sonja’s a dealer in a card room across town, another reason why I thought the check would be OK. I was counting on the sisterhood of female dealers or some such nonsense. I should have thought again because dealing poker is only Sonja’s sideline job. She’s not a good cowgirl.

A good cowgirl keeps her calves together. Sonja’s real moneymaker was doing a little sum’pin sum’pin with the gamblers after hours. I don’t know of any other poker room that allowed that sort of thing. Everywhere else a gambler strictly got poker ─ not poke her. Girls like Sonja put card rooms in a bad light.

But Sonja, with her bold blue eye shadow, brightly blushed cheeks, and deep red lipstick, had nothing to do with the fact I personally screwed myself out of fifteen hundred dollars. I took the check. I’m out the money. Not Sonja. Not the poker room. Me.

I shouldn’t have taken a check that large from anybody, let alone Dante. Fifteen hundred bucks cut pretty deep into my budget. I made good money, but it’s not my objective to support someone else’s bad habits. I’ve got my own to support. That was just one of the things I was going to tell Dante when I saw him again.

I fluffed a couch pillow and punched it a couple of times, wishing it was Dante’s face. If he didn’t pay up willingly, I didn’t have much leverage. I couldn’t go to the district attorney and press charges against Dante for giving me a hot check for the purpose of gambling in an illegal poker room. And if I bugged Dante too much about the money, I risked getting him mad and he knows where I work.

Not that I thought he would, seeing how much he likes to gamble, but he could sic the cops on us at anytime. Of course, he’d never be welcome in any card room across the state again. Dante had too much fun playing Hold ‘em to let that happen.

No, I was pretty much at his mercy. I’m sure he knew that the minute he wrote the dang thing. I guess that’s one way to get a girl to chase after you. Worse yet, I hadn’t had a date except him in ages and now even that was insufficient funds.

I sure wasn’t going to let go of that cash without warfare, though.

My phone started vibrating and I realized I’d finally dozed off. When I finally dug it out of my jean pocket, I was surprised to see it had rung ─ well, vibrated ─ four times during my nap. No wonder I’d had such great dreams.

I played my messages, knowing one was from Runt and one from Casey, but I was only half right. My brother hadn’t called. According to the verbal timestamp on Casey’s message, it’d taken her two and a half hours to get around to vibrating me up. The police department must be pretty busy. Her message was simple. It just said, “Call me.”

A senator from the Great State of Texas had also left a message. He wanted to know if there was a super-high-stakes game anywhere in the area. To impress a lady friend, he added. I could hear the wink in his voice over the phone.

Men! I knew what he meant, all right, but I didn’t know of any game like he wanted. Not tonight, anyway, so I called him back and told him so.

Two other players wanted to know what time I’d get to the poker room so I text messaged them and two hundred other regulars and semi-regulars with my starting time and the night’s menu. If the poker and free drinks don’t bring them in, the homemade free meal at midnight does.

This early in the evening everybody would read my message. In the middle of the night only a handful would bother reading it. And, if it’s Sunday, my TM would reach zip. Sunday was family day. There might be a game ─ there’s always a game somewhere ─ but it wouldn’t include the guys with families.

My phone vibrated again. Casey. She was making up for lost time by calling again so soon.

Casey, Weeba (Reba, really, but we’d called her Weeba since we were little), and I sometimes couldn’t go an hour without talking to each other. Then there were times we didn’t talk for weeks. It never mattered. We always picked up right where we left off. The weirdest thing was that sometimes all one of us had to do was think about the other and the phone rang.

The three of us go clear back to grade school. Casey and I went to college together, but Weeba couldn’t afford it. She should have borrowed the money because she’s the smart one. Looks-wise, she’s pretty in a different way, with short red hair and lots of freckles, but she’s shy to such an extreme that you forget she’s a nice looking girl. She just fades away into the background. Her boss at the dry cleaners where she clerks was always after her to look customers in the eye when she talked to them.

Casey’s the main act all the way. She’s beautiful, with a tiny body, long curly dark hair, and a porcelain complexion. She’s so outgoing it was a major problem in high school and college since she was the biggest flirt, attracting guys like bugs to a fly strip. She married a cop right after we graduated college.

“Don’t ask!” I said as I answered my cell. I groaned and struggled to untangle myself from the sofa throw.

“No way are you getting off that easy,” Casey said. “I want all the details!”

“Jeez, let me see.” I sighed, pausing just to pull her tail. “Mustang broke, took Runt’s truck, great book, add Shade, man with an alleged gun in his tighty-whiteys, me soaking wet, phone call to you, lost truck, lost book. Hmmm, that’s about all.”

“What?” she said, her voice going up an extra notch. “Girl, if I was talking to anyone but you I’d think English was your second language and you were delusional. I said details. Like what do you mean 'man with an alleged gun?' Did you report that to the police? And are you and Shade together again? That’s really what I want to hear more about. How come you didn’t mention Shade when we met Weeba at the coffee shop this morning? You holdin’ out on us?”

“Well, I’m not for sure about the gun part, that’s why I said alleged,” I replied. “And no, I didn’t report it. The answer to Shade and me being together again is a very big NO. I hadn’t seen, talked to, or thought about him in months. Then this afternoon I almost ran him over.”

My other line beeped. The caller ID read Rob. “Hey, let me call you later. My brother’s on the other line. I’ve got to tell him Shade stole his duelie.” I clicked over without giving her a chance to reply, but I swear smoke drifted out of the tiny little speaker.

“I didn’t loan Shade nothing! He took,” I said defensively when I transferred over. “And do you know he’s going bald?”

“This isn’t Runt, Stripper. It’s ol’ Baldy himself on Runt’s phone, apparently. You seen him?”

I sat straight up. Damn, he must have got to Runt while I was sleeping. I jumped up from the couch and carried the conversation to the bathroom.

“No-o-o. But you obviously have since you’re on his phone,” I sarcastically cooed.

“No-o-o. But I found a dog on the side of the road with this cell phone clipped to the collar.”

“Very funny. Let me talk to Runt,” I said, half distracted by the mirror. Rain and sleep had smudged my makeup. I swiped at it with a tissue.

“Funny, but not like in ha ha. More like in odd. As I said, Runt’s not with me.”

“You’re the odd one,” I said. “Have you been drinking?" I struggled one-handed with my jeans, my thoughts snapped together as my pants unsnapped. No wonder Runt hadn’t answered his phone all day. One of Runt’s dogs had his cell phone? That made no sense.

“No, Pokerface, I haven’t been drinking. This dog was just sitting by the side of the road until he saw me, then he started jumping around like it was feedin’ time. I pulled off the road and when I opened the door, the damn thing jumped up on my lap and bounced over to the passenger seat. I saw the cell phone and speed dialed the first number and got you. Do I take the dog with me? Kick him to the side of the road? Shoot him? What?”

“I don’t know. You found him.”

“He’s your Ridgeback fur nephew. What’s his name?”

“He’s the Ridgeback? Sloppy.”

“I like Shade better but you can call me Sloppy if you want to, Stripper. Jeez. Is that the toilet flushing?”

He heard that? Quickly, I said, “The dog’s name is Sloppy. His registered name is Sloppy Drunk. And the cell phone apparently works better than a dog tag, now doesn’t it? Are you coming to take me to work or what?”

“This big mutt is registered? I’m on my way…with Sloppy.” Click.

Great. The biggest dog in the world was going to take me to work ─ and he’s bringing Runt’s dog.

The bit about Sloppy and the cell phone was typical Runt. He was always training his dogs to do something weird. I remember when he taught Sloppy to open the frig and retrieve a beer. One day Runt was mucking out the barn, dying for a cold one. By the time he got back to his trailer house, Sloppy had taken all the beer out of the frig and placed them by Runt’s chair. Every one of them was as warm as coyote…well, I’ll just say the beer were all warm. Runt said if he hadn’t been laughing so hard, he would have been damn mad.

This phone thing was probably just another trick gone bad. The only thing I was concerned about at the moment was getting to work before the next round of rain hit. We always need rain this time of year so I really didn’t want to wish it away completely, just long enough for me to get into the poker room unsoaked.

I gave Shade and Sloppy twenty minutes then deposited myself at the same place I had been dropped off by Shade earlier. Thankfully, my wish came true for a momentary break in the rain, allowing me not to look like a wet calf when I got to work.

I was standing on the passenger side of my driveway when I spotted a green extended cab pickup leisurely headed down the street. Suddenly it speeded up and veered over to my side of the street, heading straight towards me. It hopped the curb and parked two wheels on my neighbor’s lawn.

Runt’s truck, coming from the opposite way, pulled into my driveway at the same time and blocked my view but not before I saw the driver poke a pistol out the window and aim it at me.

Holy smokes. I opened the duelie’s door, pushed the wet dog out of the way, and scrambled in. Shade barely had time to grab his jacket and chuck it onto the wet seat.

“Eager to see me, Stripper?” he asked. He had a cocky grin under his mustache so I guess he wasn’t still mad at me for the bald comment.

“That man in the pickup has a gun!”

“Jeez, Tana Rose. You see guns everywhere. You’ve got to stop reading these trashy novels.” He tossed me my book. “That’s hot stuff, Stripper. You use any of these ideas on dates?”

The green pickup roared off, tires spinning on the wet grass and tearing hunks out of the lawn.

“No, really, Shade. This time I’m sure I saw a gun.”

“Or a cell phone. Or a pipe wrench. Or who knows what. This is dull, boring Bryan, Tana Rose, not Houston or Dallas. There’s a better chance it was a jilted boyfriend than a dude with a gun.” He glanced sideways with a look that took me in from top to toes. “On second thought,” he said, “maybe it was a dude with a gun.”

Jerk. Silently I threw his cowboy hat at him. “I know what I saw,” I mumbled, but now I doubted myself. Could have been something else, I guess. I mean the odds of seeing two men pointing guns at me on the same day in this town must be lower that the odds of me ever dating Shade again. Still, it had looked like a gun to me, but Shade was probably right, although I’d never admit that to him. I’d lived in gun-toting Texas all my life and had never seen a handgun in public that shouldn’t have been there. Now I’d seen two of ‘em, or at least I thought I had.

Sloppy’s big tongue slurped my cheek, his way of showing appreciation for my outfit, I was sure. My size 12 jeans were tight and my coral shirt was cut fairly low, showing plenty of cleavage. Turquoise jewelry hung from my ears, my neck, my wrists, my fingers, and my naval, although that last one only I knew about and the way my luck was going, it would stay that way. My platinum blonde hair was cut short in jagged spikes.

Shade looked me up and down again but didn’t say a word. He was in the same clothes as when I last saw him and he smelled…well, good. A little more like deep piney woods, campfire smoke, and sweaty horse.

“You stink,” I said as I wrinkled my nose but I didn’t say anything more. Not because I was pouting over his not believing me about the gun thing. I just wanted to find out if he knew as much about where I worked as he did about where I lived. He took off in the right direction without asking directions.

To be continued Monday

SHUFFLE, Chapter Three

2009-04-15T03:20:00.000-05:00

I pitch cards at a place called Whitey’s. The owner is a huge, albino, teddy bear of a man who wraps people he likes in gigantic hugs. Lord help the people he doesn’t like. A swat from one of his sledgehammer hands could hurt a guy but he’s a pussy cat if you don’t make him mad.

Whitey’s is one of at least seven Texas Hold’em rooms doing business at any given time. The number changes weekly, sometimes daily. Shade had to be a mind reader to figure out where I worked. Or else he knew enough about my business to make me very uncomfortable.

Without prompting, he took two rights and a left, which set him on a direct course to Whitey’s. A wiggly feeling crawled up my back.

The ride was seven minutes of no-talking long, which was fine with me. Besides wondering if Shade was my number one stalker, I was still processing the gun sightings of the day.

“You can drop me by the door,” I said to Shade when we pulled up in front of Whitey’s place. It was the first thing I’d said to him since we’d left my house.

“No gentleman would,” he replied. “Especially with you in that outfit. It’s an invitation to trouble. I’ll walk you in, Stripper. Whatcha gonna do with Sloppy while you’re workin’?”

“Me? Wait just a doggone minute here. When I wanted Runt’s truck, you took it. When I don’t want Runt’s dog, I get him. What’s up with that? Don’t park. You’re not going in. Don’t you have a horse to pull or something?”

“Did that already. Besides, me and Sloppy have a standin’ invitation. Whitey said to come anytime and bring a friend.”

“I think Whitey meant a friend with money!”

“Come on, Sloppy. I’ll spot you some money.”

“No-o-o.” Quickly I stepped down out of the truck to get ahead of Shade and the dog. Most women would love to walk into a room on Shade’s arm but not me. At least, not into this room.

It’s not that I’m ashamed of Shade. Or the dog. It’s just that this poker room caters to a certain type of clientele. Our players don’t bet the rent money. The men who gamble here are way out of Shade’s league, money-wise as well as wardrobe-wise

Also, our poker players bathed every day, I thought, fully aware of the horsy aroma following me into the building.

It took fast walking but I managed to enter the room a couple of feet ahead of Shade and his dogpal. Several players were already in the room. Doc Hong gave me a quick mouth kiss, then skirted by me to get to Shade and shake his hand.

“How’s my saddle comin’ along?” Doc asked, a Texas twang coming from his Asian face.

“Almost done, Doc, almost done,” Shade said. He reached past Doc and shook hands with lawyer Grey. “Good to see you both.” More men gathered around.

“Nice dog,” Doc and Grey said in unison. Doc bent down and scratched Sloppy between the ears. The dog’s eyes closed and his tail brushed back and forth on the floor.

I rolled my own eyes. Jeez, I should have known. It felt like Elvis had entered the building. If anyone thought it odd the dog wore a cell phone clipped to his collar, they didn’t mention it. I got myself a bottle of water and went to my first dealer spot of the evening. Sloppy followed behind me and curled up by my feet under the table.

Pate, a friendly, bald-headed guy, came over to my table. I leaned in his direction, tugging gently on the long white beard pulled into a pony tail under his chin. The beardtail told me he was on his motorcycle tonight.

“Did you hear the one about the Texan and his wife vacationing in France?” I asked Pate. My voice was low.

Shade sauntered over to the cooler and plucked a beer from the ice. My eyes followed him and I felt an urge to lick my lips.

“T.R.” Pate said, and I looked back at him blankly. “The joke?”

“Oh, I thought maybe you’d heard it already,” I said, trying to cover my embarrassment at having been caught looking and licking.

“Haven’t,” he whispered back, leaning towards me. Another man, a veterinarian called Vee, left Shade and headed my way.

I was still low-talking as I told my story, which must have peaked Grey’s interest because he drifted my way. Jeez, this was like herding cats. These men were here to play poker, not talk to Shade, I thought as I fanned out the deck of cards. That roped in Doc.

The spurt of laughter at the end of the joke pulled two more players my way. I had my six, a good start this early in the evening, but the last player joining us at the table was Shade.

Doc handed me a thousand dollars and I shoved several stacks of chips his way. Pate bought in for fifteen hundred. I continued selling chips around the table until I got to Shade.

Inwardly I groaned. Would he embarrass himself and buy in for pocket change? Would he be playing with the money he’d need to get his truck out of the police impound? He hadn’t mentioned the primer beast on the way to the poker room.

“How much, Shade?” I asked out loud but I was thinking he should quit talking to Doc and pay attention.

Shade absentmindedly pulled a wad of hundred dollar bills from his shirt pocket and slid them across the table. At the last possible moment his brown eyes lifted to mine. I blinked at the almost physical shock of the action.

Quickly I looked away and started counting his money. To my surprise it added up to two thousand dollars. Ca-rap, I told myself. He’d never get his truck back if he lost this. But I wasn’t his keeper, I thought as I pushed Shade his chips.

I shuffled the deck and dealt the first round of the night, then lifted my gaze to the TV across the room ─ anything to avoid more eye contact with Shade. A player at another table quickly glanced away.

Odd, I thought to myself. You’d think he’d at least have smiled before he turned away. He couldn’t be losing already. We’d just gotten started. Maybe he was embarrassed because he was caught looking. I knew how that felt.

I focused my attention back on my table. My players did their betting thing. Pate raised a finger at the game girl and ordered another drink. Doc lit a cigarette.

The table was quiet as players evaluated their cards, calculated their outs, and mustered up their gamble. I glanced at the distant TV and again caught the eye of the same guy. Again he turned away. OK, maybe he thought I was sexy. Or maybe he was staring because I was the only woman in the room.

The pot in the center held thirty dollars. I burned a card under the pot and slapped the three cards of the flop face down. Using my long fingernails to their best advantage, I flipped the cards over and slid them into a straight line at the center of the table. Nobody bothered looking at their hole cards again. These guys weren’t amateurs. Shade neither, I decided.

I resisted the urge to look at the guy across the room. Bets placed, I burned another card, then dealt the turn card. Sliding it up in line with the other three cards, I flipped it over. “King of hearts,” I announced.

Pulling the last round of bets into the main pot, I palmed another red chip for the house take and finally stole a look across the room, just in time to see the same quick glance away from the weird guy.

Creep. What’s up with that man? He unnerved me, staring at me like that. Like he’s spying on me. I made a mental note to ask Whitey about him. He wasn’t anyone I knew.

Maybe he was a Democrat and looking at the TV tuned to CNN behind me. That theory was easy to test. I reached into my box for the TV remote and switched the channel to cartoons. My players, busy with their cards and talking among themselves, didn’t even notice.

Once again I focused my attention back to my game, tapping twice on the table before I dealt the last card, the river. I flipped it over. Another king, this time a spade.

There were a couple of fake oohs and aahs and a few real grunts and groans from my players. A little over two hundred bucks was in the pot, minus house cut. “If you don’t got it, you ain’t gonna get it,” I said playfully as I mucked the remainder of the deck. “Show me a winner,” I announced.

I allowed my eyes to wander across the room. Ca-rap! That guy looked away again. OK, not a CNN fan. Possibly another stalker. The town seemed full of them.

To be continued Wednesday

SHUFFLE, Chapter Four

2009-04-15T03:15:00.000-05:00

A couple of hours later, before I had a chance to rotate to his table, the Stalkin’ Starer lost all interest in poker. While I sorted out the side pots of two all-in bets, he cashed out and left, but not before he practically bored holes right through me.

I might think I’m sexy, even if Shade didn’t. And Dante, well, who knew what he thought. He was smoke in the wind, long gone. But even I didn’t think I was sexy enough to be stared at all evening without so much as a smile.

Looking back across the room at my original table, I saw Shade stand up as Angelina, Whitey’s girlfriend, came in carrying a huge platter of enchiladas and tacos. It looked delicious and I couldn’t wait to get at it ─ after Sloppy and I went to the bathroom. Players can get up anytime they aren’t in the action but the dealer has to keep up the pace of the game. No time to even pee. Guess that’s another reason why they call it Hold’em.

I stood up and arched my back. I’d been sitting all evening and the stretch felt good.

“I’m taking Sloppy for a walk,” I announced to nobody in particular. Truth was, Sloppy and I both needed to move around. From the looks of things outside, the clouds were beginning to break. Maybe, just maybe, the rain was over for a couple of days.

Sloppy made for the patch of grass behind the cars. I gave him a couple of minutes to do his business, then called out to him.

“Sloppy! Sloppy!”

Nothing. I called a little louder. “SLOPPY!”

“SLOPPY!” I yelled even louder.

“Where is that stupid mutt?” I mumbled aloud. I started walking to where I’d last seen him, calling his name again. “SLOPPY.”

A hand suddenly slapped over my mouth, painfully pressing my lips against my teeth. A muscular arm encircled me from behind. My right hand was trapped at my side but the left was free and I clawed at the palm across my mouth.

A low, menacing voice whispered into my ear. “Yes, darlin’, very sloppy of you to come out alone in the dark. Where’s Runt?” He said the words slowly, dragging out each syllable.

The hand loosened its grip on my face so I could respond, but as I drew in a deep breath to scream, his arm crushed me into stillness. I struggled not to pee on myself.

“I asked you where your brother is,” the man repeated. His voice was a gravelly growl. “You got his dog. You must know where he is.”

He jerked me upward with his hand and pain shot through my neck. A muffled squeal escaped from under his fingers and I used my free hand to hold onto his arm, pulling it downward, trying to keep him from wrenching my neck again.

Just as quickly as the hand appeared, it jerked away from my face, yanking off an earring in the process. The arm across my breast slid away, leaving only my wobbly legs to hold me up. They weren’t enough.

I fell to my knees, then down on all fours, and vomited in the grass. It wasn’t just my legs shaking now. I was so scared everything shook. I could hardly breathe. My heart beat so hard I could feel it from my temples and to my toes.

Behind me I could hear fists hitting flesh, bones crunching. Or maybe it was just feet scrunching in the gravel. I was too busy hurling to really tell.

When my stomach decided it had no more to donate to the cause, I dared to turn my head to see what was happening. There was Shade and a man in a ski mask, dressed completely in black, circling in a fighter’s dance. The masked man threw a solid punch but Shade avoided it easily. The sidestep cost him his footing, though, and he plopped on his butt. The other man took one step towards the downed Shade, then paused. Abruptly, he turned and fled into the darkness.

Shade pulled himself into a sitting position, feet wide apart, arms crossed on his knees. He shook his head like he was trying to clear his mind from the punches he’d taken.

I was still on all fours a couple of feet away. As I started to crawl towards him, a movement twenty feet beyond his shoulder caught my attention. At first I couldn’t make it out.

And then it hit me.

It was Sloppy, stretched out on the grass.

“Damnitall,” I said as I clumsily pushed myself off the ground and wobbled over to the dog.

“Oh, Sloppy.” I cried, squatting down beside him.

The dog opened his eyes and looked up at me. His tail gave a half-hearted lift in a partial wag, then limply flopped back down on the grass. His eyelids slowly closed. The rise and fall of his chest stilled. Sloppy just laid there, a knife sticking up from between his ribs.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I stroked Runt’s favorite dog.

Shade dropped to my side. “Damnit to hell.” he said, unclipping the cell phone from Sloppy’s collar. “Damnit to hell.”

“Hey, you guys.” We heard Whitey holler from the doorway. “Break’s over. T.R., I need you upstairs.”

“Be right there!” Shade yelled back roughly. Then he turned to me. “T.R., you OK?” His voice was soft and sweet.

“No,” I said. I was afraid to say anything more, fearful I’d bawl like a baby.

“Come on. Let’s go in,” he said as he stood up.

“But….” I swallowed hard.

“In. Now. I don’t know where that guy went or if he’ll be back.” He turned his head this way and that to make sure no one was around, then took my hand, pulling me to a standing position. He led me towards the building. “Don’t worry. I’ll walk you in. Then I’ll come back and take care of Sloppy.”

Whitey met us halfway, his whiteness a beacon in the blackness of the parking lot. My tears told him we had bad news but our grim faces didn’t reveal the details.

“What? What?” he asked. “What the hell happened out here?”

“T.R. was attacked.”

“ATTACKED! In MY parking lot?” he exploded. His white face immediately flushed red in anger. He took a couple of steps past us, looked around, and quickly came back to my side.

“Are you all right?” he said, looking at me. “Are you hurt, T.R.? Shade?” Whitey didn’t know who to question first. It was obvious Shade had been socked in the jaw and my ear was dripping blood.

I gave Whitey a weak smile and nodded my head.

“Yeah, she’ll be OK.” Shade did the talking. “So am I. Can she go up to your apartment?”

“Of course. Come on, honey. I’ll take you up. I’ll send security down for a look around.”

“With a shovel,” Shade said.

“A shovel, hell! More like a gun!” he responded.

“The dog,” Shade said, jerking his head Sloppy’s way.

Whitey craned his neck to see what Shade was referring to. “Crap!” he said. “Who’d do a thing like that? That was a good dog. Damnit. I’ll send Vee down too, after I take T.R. up to my place.”

“Go with Whitey,” Shade said, giving me a gentle push on the small of my back. Even I couldn’t believe I did as I was told.

It dawned on me on the way to the apartment that we couldn’t call the police. Whitey couldn’t have them nosing around his illegal poker room. And anyway, what could the police do? I’d been frightened urpy and a dog had been killed. And it wasn’t even our dog. Sure, Shade had gotten a few good licks from and into an unknown, masked assailant but the guy was nowhere around now. And until I knew what Runt was mixed up in, I wasn’t so sure I wanted the police involved anyway.

I washed my face in Angelina’s bathroom and tried to pull my thoughts together but I didn’t get very far. In the movies, violence is expected and life quickly goes on as if nothing happened. In real life you vomit, you shake, you cry, you vomit again. At least that’s what I did.

I sat down on the vanity chair and cried some more, face in my hands. I cried for being scared. I cried for Sloppy. I cried for me, for not having the presence of mind to kick the bastard in the balls.

And I cried for Runt. What was he messed up in now?

My eyes puffed, my face splotched, and my heart felt like it might beat right out of my chest. My mind played a nasty game with itself, replaying the details of the event from all angles, complete, unfortunately, with smells and tastes.

In the middle of the third re-run, it hit me even harder. Runt must be mixed up in something pretty big and really bad if someone was willing to kill his dog and harm his sister. If they caught Runt, what would they do to him? I leaned over the toilet bowl again and started dry heaving. Shade came in and ran cold water on a cloth and put it on the back of my neck.

I was a lovely sight, I’m sure, with urp drool running down my chin and a swollen, colorful face. It had to be one of my best looks. Good thing it wasn’t my mission to impress Shade like all the other women in town tried to do because I’d be drawing dead for sure.

I looked at Shade and said Runt’s name. “I thought it might be something like that,” he said, as he wiped my chin with yet another wet cloth. “Vee and Whitey are takin’ care of Sloppy. Wasn’t nothing Vee could do for him.”

I started to cry again and Shade put his hand on top of my head, patting my spiky hair. I moved away from the gesture. A pat on the back I could have handled. A pat on the head made me think of Sloppy. The dry heaves started all over again.

“Damn,” said Shade, sounding frustrated. I didn’t get the feeling he was exasperated with me for crying or heaving, more like he was frustrated with the situation in general, and maybe wondering what he was going to do with me now.

Eating and poker came to a cutting horse halt across the hall. Whitey shut the game down. I imagine some of the players called it an early night but others probably found another poker room.

As Shade walked me to the duelie, Vee stopped me for a hug and to offer condolences about Sloppy. Whitey told us he was having his security men watch over the parking lot. Where were those rent-a-cops when Sloppy and I needed them?

Earlier this evening ─ well, technically last night ─ I had scrambled eagerly into the vehicle, hallucinating about bad men with guns. This time I tumbled in like a wet possum, knowing full well I had met up with the criminal element in town.

Again, neither of us said a word during the ride between home and poker room but this time for a much different reason. The truck smelled faintly of wet dog and felt empty without Sloppy. All I could think about was that dog, and the fact that someone, a lowlife who thought nothing about murdering a good dog, was after Runt. And therefore, by association, after me.

“Stay in the truck while I look around,” Shade said when we pulled into the driveway at my house. He took my house key and stepped out of the duelie, engaging its automatic locks. A couple of seconds passed and I saw lights go on in the kitchen, then the living room. The spare bedroom and my room were next. I knew he was looking under beds and through closets, searching for men in black.

I was beat even though it was only three a.m. On a normal night I usually didn’t even get off work until four at the earliest. Then there’s a drink or two, dealer chatter, clean up, and maybe I could crawl into bed about eight thirty in the morning, the same time I’d start work at a normal job.

Heck, there have been Saturdays when I didn’t even leave the card room until noon the next day. But tonight, the adrenalin crash had me wrung out even though the night was still young by gambling standards.

Shade came back to the truck and walked me to the door. “Spend the night,” I whispered. It wasn’t a question or an invitation. And it wasn’t sexual. It was a statement.

I didn’t want to be alone.

“You betcha,” he said as he opened the door to the house. The words were smart-alecky but his brown eyes showed concern. Tonight I knew he was all talk and no action. I wouldn’t have anything to worry about with him at my side, not from bad guys nor from Shade himself.

I walked from room to room turning off the lights that Shade had turned on. He watched me from a central point in the kitchen. It reminded me of half the country/western songs I’d ever heard.

“Do you want the bathroom first?” I asked as we walked into my bedroom. Neither one of us even bothered to turn on the television.

“No, you go ahead,” he said, as he laid down fully clothed on my bed. He took off his cowboy boots in respect for Grandma’s quilt lying across the sheets.

Grabbing warm ups and a tee, I headed for the shower. There was no way I was climbing into bed still covered in evidence from this horrible night. I turned on the water. When the bathroom started to fog up, I stepped in. Hot water soothed me as it poured over my body. The smell of soap in the steam was so much better than urp. Reluctantly, I turned off the shower, toweled dry, and got dressed. I felt like I was working in slow motion. As I brushed my teeth, I heard a tap on the door.

“You OK in there?” Shade asked, his voice thick with concern.

“Uh huh. Out in a sec,” I attempted to say through a mouth full of brush and paste. Maybe I was working in slow motion if he felt the need to check on me.

By the time I got out of the bathroom, Shade was lying on the bed again. I went over and joined him. We were both on our backs on top of the covers, fully dressed. I didn’t know what to say. He reached over and took my hand.

“We’ll start looking for Runt first thing tomorrow,” Shade finally whispered, but we both knew first thing would be hours of sleep away. I knew for a fact Shade hadn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours and I had only slept in spurts since my last shift in the poker room. We were both exhausted and in shape to do something about nothing tonight, let alone trying to do that something in the dark.

“Whitey said to call him when we wake up. He’ll help us.”

Lying there with my eyes closed, I didn’t even have the energy to murmur a reply.
“He also said to tell you that me and him are your hole cards, and mighty good ones at that.”

I managed a smile as I tried to drift off to sleep. The vision of my hole cards ─ Cowboy Baldy and Hulk, the Albino ─ replacing the terror of my thoughts about Runt.

Minutes ticked by but sleep wouldn’t come. My mind was racing behind closed eyelids. The night replayed. The terror returned. I needed a distraction.

“I can’t do this!” I said, moaning in frustration.

“Do what?” Shade asked, sitting up quickly. “We’re not doing anything. I’m innocent.”

“No, not that! Only you would think I meant that. I mean I can’t go to sleep without a book.”

“A book?”

“Yeah, it’s still in the Runt’s truck,” I replied, turning on the reading lamp. Shade looked at me like I had my boots on the wrong feet.

“It’s true. I can’t fall asleep without reading a little something. It’s been like that ever since I learned how to read. Could you go get it for me? Please?”

Without a word, Shade rolled off the bed and headed for the truck, shaking his head all the way, I’m sure.

Within minutes I was once again caught up in the steam of the navel-twitching novel, temporarily transported to another place where I didn’t have to worry about my brother. Three pages in, I was asleep, book still erect on my chest.

I barely noticed as Shade pulled it from my hands and turned out the light.

To be continued Friday.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Five

2009-04-15T03:10:00.000-05:00

Hours later I woke up all alone on my bed. The feeling that something was terribly wrong enveloped me before I even opened my eyes. The visual of Sloppy spread out on the grass appeared in my mind and my stomach clenched and knotted.

I didn’t want to get out of bed and I definitely didn’t want to face the day but the aroma of frying bacon and fresh tortillas lured me into my own kitchen. It normally doesn’t smell that good unless my mother was in town but it was Angelina standing by the stove. Shade and Whitey sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee.

“Runt has two more dogs,” I said as I walked into the room. “Where are they?” I reached into the fridge for a Red Bull.

“Good morning to you too,” Shade said.

“What I don’t understand,” I said, ignoring him and downing half the energy drink, “is why would only one dog be by the side of the road? How did Sloppy get there? Why weren’t they all together? They’re a pack, family ─ Sloppy, Bud Light, and Red Bull. Where are the other dogs?” I fired the words off as rapid as pistol shots, my voice growing shriller with each phrase.

“Whoa. Slow down, woman.” Shade said. “Is that Red Bull instantaneous with you or what?”

I managed to decelerate and lowered my voice a notch. “And another thing,” I said. “His dogs are well trained. If he told them to sit and stay, they’d do it until the sun melted manure. Sloppy had to have been dropped off by Runt and told to stay on that road or else he would have gone home. Why would Runt do that?”

If I had used my head for thinking yesterday, instead of just letting it sit there on my shoulders holding up my hair, Sloppy might be alive today. I was mad at myself and felt responsible for Sloppy’s demise.

Shade fiddled with his mustache, obviously thinking my questions over. “To deliver a cell phone to whoever picked him up. Maybe you?” Shade asked. He looked at me but all I could do was shrug my shoulders.

“I don’t think Runt meant it for me,” I replied. “He had no way of knowing I’d have his truck. We hadn’t talked about the Mustang going in for repairs. And Sloppy wouldn’t go with just anybody. He’d only go with someone he knew. Or someone in a familiar vehicle.”

“Which brings us back to how would Runt know someone else would have his truck,” Whitey said. Angelina was making more breakfast tacos, since we were eating as we talked.

Shade unclipped Runt’s phone from his belt. “It’s dead,” he said, opening the phone and pressing buttons. “Any of you have a phone like this so we can use the charger?” We all said no with shakes of our heads.

“Then I’m going to Runt’s house and get his charger,” I said.

“I’m with ya,” said Shade. “Whoever’s behind this manhandled my girl and killed my dog.” He had that I’m-Shade-and-I’m-great grin on his face.

His girl? His dog? I didn’t think so. Just because Shade saved me from that mystery man in black, didn’t mean I was under new ownership. I closed my eyes and took a deep breathe. I couldn’t let my exasperation with the ego talk of an old boyfriend get in the way of finding my brother. Today wasn’t about me. Or Shade. It was about Runt and the trouble he was in.

The decision to pick my battles was a good one. It was pretty clear I needed someone else’s backbone besides my own to get me out to Runt’s place. The possibilities of what I might find out there graphically passed through my mind. I could only hope I had too vivid of an imagination.

“I’m in too,” said Whitey. “Bad news about transportation, though, T.R. We’re in Runt’s duelie or my two-seater until we can swing by Shade’s place so he can pick up a car. The jerk that stole his truck nose-dived it into the Brazos River, then swam off downstream.”

“Wow,” I said, looking at Shade. He just shrugged his shoulders. I felt terrible about his old truck but at the moment I had of troubles of my own to handle. I grabbed Runt’s keys and walked out the door, eating another taco on the way. This time, I vowed to myself, I’d keep control of the duelie. Shade caught up with me and slapped my hat on top of my head. The other two were close behind him.

Runt’s place is a twenty-one acre ranch called The Barely Legal, located not too far from town. I truly dreaded going out there. The “what ifs” were just way too many and had the likelihood of being horrendous. Imagination in overdrive, I mentally ran through a list of things that could have happened since I’d left the ranch in Runt’s truck the day before. It was only yesterday but it sure seemed days ago.

My cell phone rang before we got to Runt’s place. Shade plucked it out of my purse and answered it before I could protest.

“Dispatcher,” he informed me, looking at the ID. “Hello…What’s up?...I’m with T.R.……..When’d the call come in?...We’re on our way there now…Nah, probably don’t need a squad car. I’ll call you back…No, you can’t talk to her right now. She has one hand on the steering wheel and the other one on my thigh. No hand available for the phone. See ya, Casey.”

I gave a nose wrinkle as I listened to his end of the conversation.

“There’s trouble at The Barely Legal,” Shade said, dropping my phone back into my purse. “Neighbors called the Sheriff’s Department with a complaint and Casey can’t get hold of Runt.”

I guess not. We had his phone. Plus the battery was dead.

“What kind of trouble?” I asked, my stomach dropping to the floor of the truck.

“A couple of men were seen snooping around his place about ten minutes ago. Whitey, do you still carry a pistol in your boot?”

“Does a straight beat a pair?” Whitey drawled. “Angelina carries too.”

I was wondering if Shade felt as naked as I did when he abruptly leaned down and checked his boot holster. Where was all this packed heat when I needed it the night before?

I looked down the road towards Runt’s place and saw smoke drifting up past the trees. Whitey saw it too.

“Not good,” he said as he leaned down to look through the windshield. “Couldn’t be the trailer house, though. Smokes too wide. Smells wrong, too. Grass fire, I’d say. The right color for it.”

I’d noticed a yellow hue to the smoke too. I could smell it now and it smelled good but I knew from experience it would soon become overwhelming and nauseating.

“Runt keep brooms and buckets in the barn for fire fighting?” Shade asked.

“No, outside the trailer by the front door,” I replied. “He’s got a plastic garbage can with handles there with a couple of straw brooms in it.”

Angelina tied a bandana around Whitey’s neck to protect his white skin from the harsh sun. He pulled his hat down over his ears as we turned off the dirt farm-to-market road and drove down the lane to the mobile home. I could see the yellow flames along the fire line now. The blaze had already burned an area the size of a football field.

The grass was dry, mostly dead, in fact. Yesterday’s rain hadn’t had a chance to work its magic yet and bring new green from the roots. There’d been a burn ban in effect all month to prevent this type of thing from happening, but burn bans are only good if humans obey them.

“The fire’s eating its way toward the barn!” My voice echoed loudly in the truck. “Horses are in that barn!”

Equipment too. Everything a rancher, even a small one like Runt, needed and would hate to lose was in that barn. The trailer house might be used and old and ugly ─ definitely ugly ─ but the barn was Runt’s pride and joy. He’d built it to his precise specifications to shelter his beloved horses.

“Pull up where the can is, T.R.,” Shade said. “You girls stay with the truck and keep clear of the fire. Ya hear? And call the fire department,” he added as an afterthought.

Who made him trail boss, I wondered as we all opened the crew cab doors and jumped out. We scattered like somebody had disturbed our ant pile. The guys grabbed the trash can by the handles and raced towards the stock pond where they dipped it into the water. Muscles strained as they pulled it back out full of water.

Shade stuck the two brooms back into the can to absorb water as they half-carried/half-dragged the can to the fire line. Immediately each man grabbed a broom and started beating and sweeping the flames, working their way apart from each other.

As I ran into the trailer house, my heart pounded harder than during the attack last night.
I grabbed the kitchen broom and a dish towel and bolted back out the door to the fire line. Angelina followed, grabbing a blanket from the couch.

Shit! My phone was in my purse in the truck. “Go back to the truck, Angelina!” I yelled to her as I tied the dish towel over my nose and mouth. “Call 911! Tell them we need the fire department at The Barely Legal!” She turned immediately and ran to the duelie.

The whole countryside seemed ablaze. I picked my piece of hell and started beating at the flames. The task was overwhelming. I felt sure that three people armed only with brooms couldn’t possibly beat the fire back quick enough to save Runt’s barn and home but we had to try.

I smacked my broom again and again at the flames, my arms pumping up and down, up and down. Smoke billowed high into the sky. The acrid stuff made my eyes water and my nose run. It coated the inside of my mouth and I couldn’t conjure up enough spit to rid myself of the nasty taste.

Texas is hot and humid any day of summer and half the days of winter but after the heavy rains we had yesterday, it felt like I was battling the fire inside a sauna. The steamy, smoky heat sapped my energy and drained my body of everything I’d drunk the last five days but I kept banging my broom against the spreading fire.

Heat rose through the thick soles of my cowboy boots, increasing my internal body temperature to that of roasted meat. The sweatband on my hat failed me and perspiration streamed into my eyes. I wondered why my own dripping sweat wasn’t putting out the fire all by itself but I kept whacking away at the fire.

I’d beat it out in one spot and it’d sprout up a couple of feet away like it was traveling underground in tiny tunnels. Using my shirttail, I wiped the sweat from my eyes. I was filthy from sweat, smoke, and dirt. My shirttail proved it.

In the distance sirens of the volunteer firemen headed our way. Come on, guys, I mentally urged. Hurry. Please. My arms were weak from the constant beating motion. The broom was growing heavier and heavier and my legs felt like hot pepper sticks.

The chartreuse-colored fire truck full of water finally appeared in the pasture and immediately the fireman sitting on top of the tanker turned on his water cannon and sprayed the edge of the burn closest to the barn.

Resting my broom over my shoulder, I stood back and watched the fireman work, satisfied I had done my part in keeping the fire contained until the cavalry arrived. My spirits revived and relief soothed my tired muscles. I even felt a stir of cool air.

Shade yelled something from across the pasture, something I couldn’t understand, and I turned to look at him. The noise of men and equipment broke through the wall of hot air as more and more volunteers arrived at the scene in their personal cars and pickups.

Shade yelled again and pointed at me but he was far away and I couldn’t understand a word. He broke into a run straight towards me. I turned, not knowing what to expect behind me. More fire? A truck? A bull? A man in black?

But when I turned around, there was only Whitey, way down the line, yelling and shaking his broom at me. I turned back to look at Shade, who was coming fast, still yelling, still pointing.

What? What was going on? I turned back to Whitey. Now he was running my way too. “What?” I yelled. “What am I suppose to be seeing?”

I checked the ground around me. There was nothing to see there but burnt grass. I looked up, turning just my head. Then I saw it.

My broom was on fire!

I threw it down and ran. I don’t know why. Too much adrenalin. Too many upsetting events in too short of time. Whatever, I just ran.

Foof! My raffia cowboy hat flared up in flames just as Shade tackled me from behind. Down on the hot, burned grass we rolled. He yanked the hat off my head and beat my hair with his bare hands. I tucked my chin and covered my face with my hands, trying to protect myself while offering him full access to my hair. It was probably only seconds but it felt like forever before he stopped slapping at me.

One of his big hands gently lifted my chin and he examined my face. It didn’t feel like he was looking for burns, more like he was looking deep inside me, past the grime and grunge smeared over my face. Past the little clean tracks made by tears rolling through the soot.

I could have sworn he was going to kiss me. Instead, Shade slipped his hand around to the back of my neck and tucked my face into the cleft made by his shoulder and chin.

“It’s all right, Tana.” His voice was just a whisper in my ear. He gently rocked me in his arms. “Everything’s gonna be all right, honey.”

The heat rose like a curtain around us, isolating us from all the activity ─ or was it just my imagination. Me, wrapped up in my own little world. And that world, at the moment, consisted only of Shade’s arms, Shade’s chest, and Shade’s legs, one draped over me and the other pushed between my thighs. I pressed my face deeper into Shade’s neck. His hand at the small of my back pulled me closer against his hard body.

The world was going to a fiery Texas hell but I was safe in this place, this one place. I wasn’t so distraught that I didn’t appreciate his sweet tangy smell, mixed with woodsy smoke.

“You two like to do it outdoors on the ground?” Whitey voice penetrated my sanctuary. “Ain’t it hot down there?”

Laughing, Shade released me and rolled away. Whitey reached out his hand for mine and I reluctantly lifted it so he could help me up. “Burning hair sure does stink,” he said.

“True story,” Shade said as he got up and went over to the burnt broom that I had flung down. “Your broom wasn’t wet,” he said, picking it up. “When you stopped beating the fire with it, it caught on fire itself. Then it caught your hat on fire.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah and the hat caught my hair on fire. Jeez, another great look for me. Singed hair, dirty face, runny nose, weepy eyes, blackened clothes, and a smell that only a fireman could love.

The fire truck pulled up to where we all stood.

“Fire’s out. You all right, T.R.?” one of the volunteers asked.

I nodded. I was so thirsty I couldn’t speak.

“We’ll stick around for a while and wet everything down again,” he said. “One of the guys checked the barn and all the horses are safe. Well, except Tonto. He’s not there. I take it Runt’s away on him and all his dogs. His little pickup’s in the barn and the duelie’s out front.”

“We’re in the duelie,” I said. “Tonto’s gone?” Tonto was Runt’s little pinto, a real cutie of a horse. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” another fireman said. “I’m sure. I looked for that gelding in particular. That’s Runt’s baby and he’d never forgive me if I let something happen to him.” The fireman wandered away towards the task of cleaning and putting away gear.

“Well, it’s obvious Runt’s on horseback,” I said to Shade. “But why?”

“I just don’t know,” Shade mumbled, shaking his head in frustration. “Some guys are after him and he’s out campin’?”

“Maybe he’s horseback because some guys are looking for him,” Whitey suggested. “That’d make it harder for city folk to find him.”

“There’s that,” I agreed, as several firemen walked our way. Angelina came out of the trailer with an armful of cold bottled water and started passing them around.

“Damn, ain’t that a switch,” one of the fireman said, laughing. “I’m on The Barely Legal and all I’m offered to drink is water.” He took a deep slug of the cool liquid and glanced out at the burned pasture. The fire had come mighty close to the barn. “Any idea how the fire started, T.R.?”

“No. Well, yes. The 911 dispatcher called when we were on the way out here. She said a neighbor phoned in a complaint that two men were seen snooping around. I suppose they could have started it. Accidentally or on purpose.

“Come back when Runt’s here and I’m sure he’ll have something stronger than water to offer you.” At least I hoped Runt would be here again to serve them the hard stuff. No telling where he had disappeared to. And why.

“OK, we’ll sure take him up on your offer. I’ll get the fire inspector over here to see what he can figure out.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Shade disappear into the house. When he came back out, he gave a thumb’s up. He’d put the phone on charge.

To be continue Monday.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Six

2009-04-15T03:05:00.000-05:00

The firemen milled around the place, cleaning their equipment, spraying more water on the field, and talking with us. I wanted to go into the trailer house and feel its air conditioning on my skin, but to tell the truth, I didn’t want to go in if I couldn’t fit all of the firemen in there too.

The four of us stayed with the fireman, watching the pasture for flare-ups. I wasn’t looking forward to viewing my reflection in a mirror. Shade, Whitey, and Angelina all had sooty faces, dirty arms, and blackened clothing so I could only imagine what I looked like. After all, they didn’t catch their hair on fire. It was a pretty safe assumption that my burnt-look would guarantee I’d never, ever be asked out on a date by any fireman in the area again.

After the last of the volunteers had driven off The Barely Legal, Shade led the way into Runt’s house and headed straight to the phone. “The battery’s charged enough,” he said, pushing several buttons, “but the phone’s password protected. We need a five-digit password.” He passed me the phone.

Shade was all business now. Nothing was left of the gentle man who had lain with me on the hot ground just an hour or so ago. Oh, yeah, I thought, remembering why we had stopped dating in high school. Shade could switch from hot to cold faster than any losing streak I’d ever seen at the poker table. One minute he’d be all attention, like a birddog on point and I was his covey of quail. Then he’d be gone. Disappeared. Nowhere around.

Wherever he went during those times, it involved horses and bull riding but it left me dateless. A girl can’t have that in high school! The time we dated in college went pretty much the same way.

I wrinkled my nose in frustration. “Is it just me, or is nothing easy?” I asked with a sigh. “Let me think. If I was Runt, what would my password be?” I thought out loud.

“It could be a birthday,” Shade suggested.

“It can’t be mine or Dad’s because ours are six digits because of the month we were born in.” I tried Runt’s birthday and Mom’s. Neither worked.

“Knowing Runt, it could be anything,” Whitey said, with a chuckle. “How about girls’ names?”

I tried the names of several girls that I knew Runt currently liked, had liked in the past, or might like in the future. Nothing.

“Try one zero one zero one.” Angelina said. I looked at her and raised a scorched eyebrow.

“What the hell? Try it,” Shade said. “We’ve tried stupider numbers and names than that.”

I punched in the numbers and sure enough the cell phone woke up. We all looked at Angelina in amazement.

“What?” Angelina said. “Makes sense to me. “Ranch and dog’s names are about drinking. Why not this too? You know, legal to drink age twenty-one. Ten+ten+one.”

Put that way, the password made sense to me too. I scrolled down to voice mail on the phone. There were several hang-ups (probably me), a message from Mom, and the message from Casey about the trespassers.

Hearing my Mom’s voice made my stomach churn. I hadn’t even thought about telling our parents about the events of last night and today. Or what still might unfold, for that matter. I could only hope Runt would reappear before I had to talk to my folks.

“Just messages from me and mom and Casey,” I told the group as I scrolled through the menu to get to the mailbox for text messages.

“Well, I’ll be deep fried!” I exclaimed. Runt had sent his phone a text from his computer.

“TANA OK B CAREFL STRANGRS FEED HORS RIDIN BACKWRDS TONTO CARE SLOPY,” I read aloud.

“Jeez, I already screwed that up,” I said, thinking about the Sloppy part.

“Well, at least we sort of know Runt’s safe,” said Shade. “But ‘be careful of strangers’ or ‘strangers are feeding horses?’ Probably the first one, considering all that’s happened. Guess we’d better toss the horses some hay before we go, Whitely. ‘Riding backwards’ I have no idea. Do you, T.R.?”

“That means he’s horseback, camping in one of those wild places along the Brazos.”

“You got all that out of riding backwards?” Shade asked.

“Dad always called it that. When Runt went camping as a teenager, Daddy said he might as well be riding backwards on his horse because Runt never knew where he was going ‘til he got there. It worried Mom to death, even though she knew Runt loved living off the land and was good at it.”

“Who knows when he’ll be back, then,” Shade said. “Let’s look around the house and barn to see if anything’s missing. Those two men could have been thieves.”

Shade and Whitey searched Runt’s bedroom. There’re some things a sister doesn’t need to discover about her brother. Angelina went through the kitchen stuff, cleaning up as she searched. I looked through the living room. It was slow going since I didn’t really know what I was looking for. On the upside, I wasn’t worried about time. Poker rooms don’t open until late in the evening.

I was eager to get back to my place, though. I’d been careful not to look in a mirror while searching the house but I did catch my refection in the darkened television screen. I couldn’t see much, but what I did see, wasn’t good. I would need hours of repair work or it’d be poor tips for me tonight. Then again, there’s always the sympathy tip.

My hair is short and spiky but cut that way on purpose, not burned choppy. My platinum spikes were now tipped black in places from the fire, like reverse roots. Somehow, I didn’t think it would become a fad. Too stinky, for one thing, and way too dangerous of a hair treatment. Of course it did get you a roll on the ground with Shade and lots of attention from a fleet of firemen.

The way things were going, I was going to have to start a list just to keep up with all the Shade-details that Casey and Weeba would want to know about.

Runt’s laptop was gone, but that didn’t mean anything. He wouldn’t leave it at home unattended. If he didn’t have it with him, he’d stash it somewhere if he thought he’d be away for a while. He probably sent me the text message by that computer but he could have sent it from anywhere in town. A lot of places offer wireless nowadays.

Other than normal camping stuff, I didn’t notice anything else missing. The others had the same luck I did, which was none at all. We packed our grimy selves into the duelie to head for town.

“Take me to my place, Stripper, so I can pick up another vehicle,” Shade said. I still was driving, although I didn’t understand why Shade so easily relinquished control of Runt’s truck. He gave me directions to his place and we traveled by dirt roads in areas of the county I wasn’t familiar with.

“Turn left on the next road,” he said. “There’s not a sign over the gate but you’ll recognize it by the giant prickly pear cactus at the entrance.”

I suppose it was Goodwin’s place but I wouldn’t have known that ranch if I sat on it. I was very impressed with the big house surrounded by blooming crepe myrtle trees. Hacienda style, it was stucco arches, scenic windows, red cedar, and Texas limestone. Very posh.

Fishing for the name of the ranch, I told Shade, “Runt would love Goodwin’s house.” He looked at me and raised his eyebrows. I guess he was too exhausted to take the bait and I was too tired to press the point. There were smaller houses around the compound and I wondered which one was Shade’s.

“Pull up to that barn, Tana Rose. I’ve got some things to do before I go to your place. I’ll leave here in a couple of hour.” He got out when I stopped the truck. “Whitey, Angelina,” he said, looking into the back seat. “Thanks, y’all, for the help. It was appreciated.” He turned around and started walking away.

I didn’t drive off. I didn’t call out after him. I just sat there looking at his back.

I didn’t want to be alone at my house. I may not like Shade’s possessive attitude but this whole mess had me badly spooked, I’d take the devil himself beside me night and day just so I wouldn’t have to be by myself.

Shade stopped and looked back. I traced my finger around the steering wheel.

“What’s the matter?” he said as he walked back to the truck.

I kept looking at my finger making circles.

Angelina spoke up from the back seat. “She does not want to be alone.”

“Is that it, Stripper?” he asked.

I sucked on my lower lip but didn’t say a word.

Shade took a deep breath. “OK,” he said. “You’re right. I’ll be right over. I can shower at your house. I’ll get one of my men to go stay at The Barely Legal until Runt gets back.” He slapped the hood of the truck, dismissing us, and I drove away.

No one spoke on the way to town. Deep exhaustion had set in and we were all dreading the long night ahead of us in the poker room. At least I was. None of us had gotten much sleep today. We definitely needed showers. Plus I had to do something with my hair.

After I dropped Whitey and Angelina off at their place, the drive to my little house was quiet. I realized it was the first time I’d been alone in almost twenty-four hours. It felt familiar, yet weird. What are the odds on that? I kept looking around, expecting what, I didn’t know. But I knew it couldn’t be anything good.

I pulled Runt’s truck into my driveway and parked behind a wild little red convertible. Shade was sitting on top of the back of the driver’s seat with his dirty boots where his butt should’ve been. How rude to borrow such a tight car and then put your boots on the leather upholstery. Goodwin must be even more loaded than I thought. I was afraid to even touch the paint job.

“Sweet.” I nodded at the car as I walked to the side door of my house and unlocked it.

“Personally, I thought it deserved more than just sweet,” Shade said.

“If it was your car, it would deserve more.”

“It is my car.”

“Yeah, right. For the moment. I’m first in the shower.” I wrinkled my nose, at myself this time. There went my mouth again. Why couldn’t I just keep it shut and be nice. The man’s doing me a favor by staying with me. But instead of turning back and apologizing, I marched into the bathroom, closed the door, and locked it.

The bath and bed situation felt awkward yet familiar. Hadn’t we gone through the same routine last night? As I stepped into the shower, a picture of us as an old married couple flashed though my mind ─ without the good sex. Without any sex at all, come to think of it. The cool running water beat the tension out of my shoulders. It probably wasn’t as effective as a hot shower, but I’d had enough heat for one day.

I don’t know what it is about the enclosed space of the shower and the spray of water but I seem to do my best thinking there. As I lathered the shampoo into my disastrous hair, it hit me. Text messages. Runt sent a message to his phone. Why couldn’t we send an email to his computer. He just check messages on that, since he certainly never checked voice mail on his phone.

Quickly I cut the water, toweled off, and threw on some clothes. As I reached for the door, I caught my reflection in the mirror. Damn, I could’ve gone all week without that view. If only the mirror had fogged up. I had to do something with my hair, other than put a hat on it, before I talked to Shade about my idea.

I grabbed the scissors and began to cut off all the blackened parts I could reach. With a hand mirror I could see more burned parts in the back. I tried holding the hand mirror, finding and holding the hair, putting the mirror down, picking up the scissors, and cutting. That didn’t work well at all.

I tried again. I picked up the mirror, located and held the offending hair, put the mirror down, picked up the scissors, and again tried to cut it. Damn it! I cut my finger. Let’s add a little blood to the mix. OK, I told myself, take a deep breath and try again. Damn!

“Shade!” I yelled through the door.

“What?”

“I need you!”

“Now you’re talkin’,” he said, trying to open the door. “Uh, doors locked, honey. Unlock the door.” Shade’s charm and amusement oozed under the door and into the bathroom.

What? He thought I was naked? He thought I wanted him sexually? Well, yeah, that’s a thought. Just not my first thought.

I looked into the mirror again. I had on no makeup and my hair looked freaky but at least I was clean. This man had seen me much worse and only an hour ago.

“But will you respect me afterwards, Shade, or will I be just another…you know…conquest?” I cooed through the closed door.

“Don’t be silly. Unlock the door, T.R.,” he coaxed.

Yeah, now he calls me T.R. Wow, he sounded serious. “No, really, Shade. Never mind. I don’t think I should. I…I mean, after all…I’m…I’m naked.” I poured it on a little thick with that one. The whole situation had just crossed into the ridiculous. He had to know I was putting him on.

“Tana, just let me in so we can talk about it. Come on, honey. Open up.”

“Will you be gentle? Will you run your fingers through my hair?”

“What? Yeah, sure, Pokerface. I’m a gentle guy. Whatever you want, sweetheart. Unlock the door now, OK?”

How far could I push this, I wondered. Probably not too far since he’d just reverted back to calling me Pokerface. “Shade, maybe we should take this slower, you know, date again. You could pick me up at my door. Take me to dinner and a movie. A nice kiss before we…you know. You’re such a big, strong, handsome cowboy and I don’t know if I could measure up to those cute little cowgirls you’ve been dating.”

No answer. Had I gone too far? It sure was fun!

Still no answer. “Shade?”

A rap on the bathroom window behind me made me jump. I turned around fast. There was Shade, elbows leaning on the windowsill. He one-finger waved me hi, a gotcha look plastered on his handsome face.

“Or maybe I could just go back home and leave you to the bogyman! Naked, my ass!” he yelled through the window.

We both laughed. “Get in here and help me cut my hair!” I hollered. “Are you standing on a ladder?”

“Nope, trashcan,” he replied and disappeared from the window.

We were both still laughing when he walked through the bathroom door. I handed him the scissors.

“Cut off just the singed part,” I told him. “Nothing else! You hear me? Just the singed part!”

Shade picked up my comb and started on my hair. “Hey, I had an idea in the shower,” I told him. “Maybe Runt has his laptop and we could send him an email.”

“It’s worth a try. Do you feel better knowing Runt’s, what did he call it? Riding backwards?”

“Yeah, I guess. I feel just like Mom must have felt when he went off ─ wondering where he is, what he’s doing, how he’s doing, and all that. The funny part is that today, out at his place, I felt he was watching us, like he wanted to be helping us put out that fire but he just couldn’t risk it or he couldn’t get there from where he was or something. Weird, huh? Maybe I just felt that way ‘cause I know how much he loves that place of his.”

“That’s not weird. It’s a great place.” Shade paused in his combing and cutting, then started up again. “It’s a long time since high school.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, in high school Runt was extremely smart but stupid, if you know what I mean. He kept getting into trouble.” Shade was a year ahead of me in school and Runt was a year behind me.

“True.” I kind of laughed. “And mostly over the same thing ─ taking money for changing classmates’ grades.”

“Tana Rose, I don’t think it was the takin’ money that got him into trouble as much as the repeated hackin’ into the school’s computers to change those grades. The principle would have ‘em change the system and Runt would hack into the new system just as fast. That last time, when you were a senior, he got into so much trouble, your daddy had to step in and sell the authorities on the fact that the school should have better computer security. That turned it around and made it the school’s fault.”

“Daddy nothing. It was me that sold the school on that full-of-bull story!”

“Yeah. That’s right. I’d forgotten that. Good thing it happened several years ago. They put people in jail for stuff like that nowadays. They threatened to jail him then, if he ever did it again.”

There was a pause in the conversation as Shade worked on my hair. “Your folks still livin’ in Dallas?” he finally asked.

“Yeah, I’m wondering if I should tell Daddy about this. I won’t tell Mom. She worries about us enough.”

“Well, give the situation a couple more days before you make that decision. By then it all might be just a funny story to tell. Except for Sloppy.”

Yeah, except for Sloppy. I closed my eyes. It felt good to have Shade mess with my hair. I usually don’t like that sort of thing. In fact, I can barely sit still at the hair salon. I’m just tired, I thought.

I sat there backwards on the toilet seat, totally relaxed. Good lord, it seemed like days or even weeks since all this started. Shade and I had been inseparable ever since. How ironic. Just yesterday I couldn’t stand him when he took Runt’s truck and now he’s cutting my hair…

...OFF! I suddenly realized how long he’d been cutting my hair and jerked away from the scissors. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“I’m just evening out your hair here and there. You really chopped it up.”

“No way am I going to let you ‘even out’ my hair! What do you know about hair cutting?” I looked into the bathroom mirror. Front looked good. I grabbed the hand mirror to see the back.

“I got sisters,” he replied. And it did look good in the back, just as good as when Mr. Ricky cut it, really. Kind of shaggy on the neck, just like I liked it. I looked Shade in the eye.

“And I cut my horse’s tail all the time,” he said, his voice low. Quickly he stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door, but not before I saw how red his cheeks were.

Shade blushing? I wouldn’t have thought he was capable of that. Not with his reputation. Horse’s tail, indeed! Would I ever have time to call Casey and Weeba and tell all? I don’t think I have that many minutes on my cell plan! I’d have to see them in person to report everything.

I finished putting on my makeup and exited the bathroom. Shade was lying on the floor watching TV in the living room. “Why are you on the floor? I do have furniture.”

“I’m too dirty to sit anywhere. I made a couple of calls while you were in the bathroom, and I email Runt. Haven’t heard from him yet, though. Called Whitey. He said you can crash at their apartment when you get off work. I’m going to sleep at my own place tonight. I’ll swing by tomorrow after the ropin’ competition and pick you up.”

“No, wait,” I said. “We both have vehicles now. You can’t make me your life’s work. I’ll be all right by myself.” I had calmed down a lot with the help of a shower, but I didn’t really believe what I was saying. I didn’t want to be alone.

The thought of staying in my own home all by myself sent cold crawlies up and down my back. That’s a turnabout for me. Give me a good book and all six of my bed pillows, plus a cold beer on the bedside table, and alone usually seemed like a real good idea.

Shade came over to where I was standing and put his hands gently on my shoulders. Slipping his thumbs under the thin straps of my top, he rubbed little circles on my skin. He smelled like the outdoors, full of wind, horse, earth, and smoke. Lots of smoke.

His hair was out of the ponytail and loose around his shoulders. Tight blue jeans wrapped around his butt, then fell to his boot tips with the typical cowboy wrinkles around his calves. A black belt with silver conchos cinched his small waist. His now-dirty white shirt covered his broad chest and the wide shoulders that topped his v-shaped body.

OK, I realized what all the Shade hoopla was about. Would I be like all those other women and fall madly in love with the Shade-look, the Shade-kiss? Casey told me once that she’d heard that when Shade kissed a woman, her chocha became the burning bush, whatever that meant. I didn’t believe it. Years ago I’d been kissed by Shade, and I hadn’t felt the need to call the fire department.

I braced myself for that blazing moment. Our lips were only a fraction of an inch apart. The chemistry was toxic. The air palpable. I closed my eyes and leaned my face upwards towards Shade.

Seconds ticked by but no kiss came. I felt stupid standing there like that so I opened my eyes. He was looking deep inside me again, like he had when we were on the hot, burned ground at Runt’s place. He bit at his mustache. “I could, ya know. Make you my life’s work, that is.”

I was too stunned to reply. He used his shoulder hold to move me aside. Then he leaned down, picked up an overnight bag, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Why would he say something like that, anyway? He didn’t make me his life’s work when we were together before. In fact, he pretty much took me for granted both times we’d dated.

I walked over to the window air conditioner and lifted my shirt so my chest could catch the frosty air coming from the vents. I might have been just out of a cold shower but I needed to cool off after stepping away from him and his heat source. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel his thumbs making small circles on my skin.

I heard the bathroom door open again and quickly pulled my shirt down. Shade popped his head out of the bathroom.

“By the way, don’t get any ideas about peekin’ through the bathroom window. I moved the trash can.”

To be continued Friday.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Seven

2009-04-15T03:00:00.000-05:00

The drive to the poker room in that little dream of a convertible was short, windy, and wonderful. Before that ride I looked forward to getting my faithful Mustang out of the shop, but now I wanted to pick it up, drive straight to the dealership, and trade it in for something with a little more snap.

Impossible, but tempting. To buy a car, one needed a job and an income. Working in an illegal poker room only supplied the income part, no employment. At least no employment I wanted to prove on paper. I was just happy I had purchased my house and car before I cashed out of my accounting job.

True to his word, Shade escorted me to the poker room door, leaned in to say howdy to Whitey and Angelina, then headed for home, or so he said. Now why did that suspicion sneak into my thoughts? What did I care? Shade was free to go anywhere he wanted. I had no hold on him. Nor him on me.

I admit I felt something missing after he left. I kept turning to say something sarcastic to him or something witty but he was never where I thought he should be. Last night I hated Shade at my table. Tonight I missed him. What’s up with that? Probably I was just tired. In the shape I was in, even my old desk at the accounting office looked like an inviting place to sleep.

Whitey, eyes red from smoke and lack of sleep, appeared by my side like a sleep-walker. “Javi just walked in,” he said into my ear.

Ca-rap, I thought as he walked on to inform the next dealer. The night we needed everything to be slow and quiet, one of the rowdiest road players in Texas drops by.

“Texas men are pussies,” Javi called out. I looked across the room as laughter rolled towards me like spilled beer. There was Ramon Javier Guadalupe Perez, wearing his usual cutoff jeans, Hawaiian shirt, leather sandals, dark sunglasses, and white Panama hat, as out of place as ever in a room full of cowboy boots. He raised his arm high in triumphant arrival. Wrapped around that arm was his pet snake, El Duce.

More people pushed into the poker room behind Javi. It looked like a bus had pulled up outside and spewed out a hundred or so players. And I don’t mean geriatric, slot machine junkies eager to separate themselves from their social security checks. The people milling around the front of the room were true poker folker, late night gamblers looking for the fast fun and adult action only found with like-minded, addicted players.

I shook my head regretfully. The crowd promised a wild night. We were playing five-ten no limit Texas Hold’em. Five and ten dollar blinds might not seem like much, but no limit means betting can get pretty crazy, especially since the game girl was dispatching canned beer as fast as she could haul it from the refrigerator and distribute the betting lube among the newcomers.

Whitey had scheduled the usual three dealers. With this crowd, we definitely needed more card throwers so he was dialing for dealers, trying to keep the dollars in the house. Angelina frantically added seatless players to the dry erase board waiting list.

At my table Doc was in seat one. He always made the game interesting by bluffing big and playing bigger. Black Forest had seat four, with the two college kids between him and Doc. I don’t know what Black’s first name is but his last name is Forest. He calls himself Black Forest, “Because, like the cake, I’m dark and sweet.” We call him Black, for short. The jury’s still out on sweet. It certainly doesn’t stand for sweet tipper.

Old man Joe, a personal favorite of mine was in seat five; Whitey’s daughter Crystal, seat six ─ no house advantage there ─ and her boyfriend, seat seven. Two sports bookies, Lem and Jaycee, were in seats eight and nine. Bookies are great for pumping up the action. They’ll bet on anything.

Jimmy Thweat, owner of Thweaty Chores, was sitting in the last seat, number ten, next to me. I like to keep Thweaty close. He needs a nudgin’ when he dozes off, which is often. He’s seventy-six years old and drinks black coffee with tons of sugar, eats chocolate by the handful, and still manages to fall asleep in the middle of a good poker hand.

I concentrated on mentally separating myself and my table from the noise of the wait-listers but I couldn’t help but notice Mother in the crowd. Mother’s not anyone’s mom. She’s just another poker player with a nickname and one of the ugliest women I’ve ever seen. Men flock around her, supposedly to enjoy the conversation. It’s kind of a two-for-one tête-à-tête because Mother always has a beautiful talking parrot named Polly on her shoulder. You talk to either Mother or Polly and sometimes both at the same time.

Of course, another reason men flock around Mother is they all have bets on if she’s naturally a really ugly woman or if she previously was a really ugly man. They’re hoping she’ll slip up and give an indication of birth gender. Last I heard, odds were split roughly fifty-fifty, with bettors changing sides repeatedly as new information presented itself.

Some nights are so quiet that ice clunking in the drinks sounded like thunder. This wasn’t one of those nights. The joint was loud. Chips clacked as players riffed them together. Players and dealers laughed and talked loudly in order to be heard above the noise. It was a frigging circus, complete with wild people, crazy side shows, and animal attractions.

The players at my table kept themselves above the uproar, deeply involved in serious poker. I pointed to Lem, he bet; Jaycee called. The two college kids folded without comment. They must have scored well on their SATs.

Lem waved a hand at Doc to get his attention. “Hey, Doc. Ten dollars on the side. No six, no eight, no jack. You game?”

“You got it,” Doc said, placing two redbirds next to him on the rail of the poker table. Damn, that didn’t take long. Side betting already. Next thing you know they’ll be betting on whether the flop is red or black.

Whitey came by and gave me a nod and a wink. More dealers were on the way so he worked the room, meeting and greeting. Wait-listers milled around the tables, all seemingly in good spirits. I half-heartedly kept an eye out for Dante. Every other poker player in town was in the room so it was even odds he’d walk through the door too. I hadn’t forgotten my lost money.

Two and a half hours into our gaming night, I got my first break. We now had five full tables going and a relief dealer. I was headed down the hall to the ladies room when out of the corner of my eye I saw Dante step through the front door. Just the sight of him put me on tilt. Heat rose inside me until I was ready to spit fire and light the night with his flaming soul.

Son of gun, he’s a bold bronco, I thought as I quickly changed directions and headed his way. After weeks of trying to find the deadbeat, he walked brashly into my lair like it was no big deal. What? He didn’t think I’d be here? Give me a break! I’m always here!

But then again, maybe he was there to pay up. That was a pleasant thought.

I pushed through a mess of poker folker standing around table three. Mother was taking a seat for the first time that night. Trying to get comfortable in her chair, she stood up to adjust her skirt and slammed smack into me.

Mother’s not a small woman…man…person…whatever and the collision bounced me back in my tracks. Off balance to begin with, she was knocked on her butt. At the sudden loss of her comfortable perch, Polly started squawking at the top of her little bird lungs. She batted her wings trying to regain a normal, shoulder-high roost. Bright green, red, and yellow feathers filled the air like confetti at a birthday celebration.

As loud as Polly screeched, Mother’s squealing and cussing was even louder. “Jeeze Louise! Sunny Beaches! What the heck is going on around here? Why don’t you watch where the puck you’re going! Get me up off this floor!” Mother raved in a G-rated rant. Birds are like children, I guess. You have to watch what you say so they don’t repeat it at inappropriate moments.

Mother fired a dirty look up at me, like somehow this was my fault. The player I’d been bucked into wrapped his arms around me, as much to steady me as to take advantage of the situation.

“I’ve got you, T.R.,” he whispered in my ear but I shook him off and took a step towards Mother. I wanted to rush over and grab Dante by the throat and shake him until my money fell out, but I knew the professional thing to do was to help Mother up off the floor and apologize profusely, whether I was at fault or not. Lord knows, you never want to piss off a potential tipper. Besides, the fat thing could never make it to her feet by herself.

I glanced towards the door and Dante. Our eyes connected briefly, or so I thought. He might have just been looking in my general direction, watching the commotion around the table. Either way, I had to turn my attention back to Mother.

“Are you ok? I am so sorry. You’re not hurt, are you?” I cooed so sweetly even I didn’t recognize my voice. I held out both my hands and braced myself for the weight they were about to pull up.

Mother grabbed hold and I gave a gigantic heave. Out the corner of my eye, I caught movement. Snake movement!

Javi was sitting two seats over from Mother’s vacated chair. Up to this point El Duce was calmly wrapped around either Javi’s arm or neck. But El Duce was moving now and that wasn’t good. He stretched off the back of Javi’s neck, his tongue flicking in and out like snake’s tongues do.

Quickly I turned my head towards Javi, trying not to drop Mother in the process. But Javi had already turned his attention back to his chips and was oblivious to the action behind him.

“Javi!” I called out to alert him to a possible problem, but there was too much noise in the room, too much commotion. More turmoil than normal with everyone talking about Mother and cracking off-colored jokes. Even if Javi had heard me, it was so crowded around the table now that I doubt he could have gotten off his seat to turn around and see what was going on.

Polly was fluttering around, trying to find some place to land again and by chance picked Mother’s head.

El Duce recoiled back to Javi, and quickly struck out at the parrot.

Polly must have seen the snake coming because she started squawking even louder. “Bloody bad boy! Bloody bad boy!” she screeched as she flapped her wings to rise above the snake’s attention.

In her panicked levitation, a talon on her right foot tangled in the locks of Mother’s tresses. To everyone’s amazement and amusement, the bird and Mother’s hair winged their way upwards.

Mother’s hands flew to the top of her now bald head, and her expletives suddenly lost their G rating. “Mutha effer! What the…? Polly, get your ass back over here!”

The college boys, eyes full of white, fell over their chairs trying to distance themselves from the striking snake. Poker folker around the table got the same idea and moved away in mass, going in all directions.

Several “oh shits” rang out around the room as the rest of the players watched the action as if it was on a television tuned to the animal channel. Dealers tried to stabilize cards and chips as tables jumped and bumped under the rush of gambler evacuation.

Everybody was on the move. Everybody, that is, except Old Joe, who seemed relatively oblivious to the goings on.

El Duce retreated back towards Javi again, then struck out one more time at the bird. With the snake’s tail end still wrapped around his neck, A now fully-aware Javi, cursed colorfully in Spanish and dived away from Polly in an attempt to save the bird from becoming snake dinner.

Unfortunately, as Javi lunged past Old Joe, El Duce was mid-strike with nothing to latch onto except Joe’s forehead.

And that’s exactly where the snake’s opened, unhinged mouth landed.

Instantly the room went silent and still, like we were all playing a game of Freeze-Statue-Freeze. Even the parrot seemed frozen in mid-air as she hovered in place, wings pushing her upward, wig pulling her downward.

Only feathers stirred, floating through the air like colored snow.

“Nobody move!” I yelled needlessly, since for that brief moment the room felt like someone had hit the pause button on a remote control. I put my hand on Joe’s shoulder to steady him and show him help was at hand.

“I-I-I-I ain’t movin!” Joe said, his voice vibrating, his eyes looking up at the underbelly of the snake. “I ain’t movin’ nothin’! But somebody better get this bastard off me!”

Someone hit play on my imaginary remote control and the room erupted in movement and noise again. Players who had scrambled away from the table were now frantically trying to move closer to get a better view of the action.

Polly started squawking again, still flapping her wings and trying to haul herself and her freight away from the enemy.

The snake, though, was fully involved in a battle of his own, his mouth opened flat against Joe’s forehead. Stretched out from Javi’s neck to the old man’s forehead, that snake had to be over six feet long, a fact no one realized when El Duce was coiled quietly around Javi’s arm.

“Stop!” I ordered. “Somebody grab that damn bird and put it in a bathroom!”

Afraid to even move, Javi was still crouched down with his back to Joe.

I pulled in a deep calming breath, as much for myself as for the people involved in the melee. “Quiet. Just be quiet. Please.”

Gently, I grasped El Duce at the base of his head, calmly maintaining eye contact with Joe and silently willing the poker player to remain calm.

“Hang on, guys,” I said sweetly. “Everybody settle down. Javi, unwrap El Duce from your neck.”

The room managed a library atmosphere with everyone’s attention totally focused on Joe, the snake, and me.

Javi detached himself from El Duce just as Whitey entered the room and roared, “Get that damn snake off my poker player!”

His voice reverberated off the walls and sent players scrambling and chattering all over again.

“Damn it! EVERYBODY HOLD STILL!!” I yelled again, glaring at Whitey. Behind him I could see Dante still standing in the doorway. At last I had his full attention, though it didn’t do me a bit of good.

“I’ll get him off,” I cautioned quietly, “but I can’t just pull him off.”

“Makes sense,” Whitey conceded, his voice only a notch or two lower than before. “Simmer down, you guys,” he added, pushing his palms in a downward gesture to signal the players in the crowded room. When a man that big tells you to do something, you do it.

Now that I had the rest of El Duce in my other hand, I gently pushed him towards Joe’s forehead so the snake could release his jaws. When he got himself loose, I swear El Duce smacked his lips.

“Angelina, could you grab me a paper towel? Javi, put El Duce into one of the other bathrooms,” I said, handing the snake back to its owner.

The room erupted in applause. I gave a little bow their way and laughed nervously.

“Sorry, Joe,” I said, turning back to my player, “but if I had just pulled the snake off of you, he would have left some of his teeth in your forehead and ripped your skin a lot worse. Right now all you’ve got are a couple of puncture marks. There’s hardly even any blood. This kind of snake doesn’t have fangs.”

“Well, thank God for that. No blood? Are you shittin’ me?” Joe asked, looking at me with wild eyes. He gave me a weak smile. “I need a drink.”

“Me too,” I said, scanning the room for Dante and my money.

“And me,” said Mother. “A good stiff one!” she bellowed as loud as any man in the room. “And somebody hand me my damn hair…right now!”

“You got it,” said Whitey, trying not to laugh as he scooped up the wig off the floor and handed it to her. She adjusted her store-bought curls as good as she could without a mirror.

Javi came back into the room. “In fact,” Whitey stated, “Javi’s buying drinks for everybody the whole evening!”

The room erupted into nervous laughter at the magnanimous offer. Drinks in poker rooms are always free. We don’t sell alcohol. But I had a feeling Javi would be paying for his snake’s shenanigans in another way. The winning streak he’d been on all summer was almost certainly broken by his snake and all the negative energy created by the uproar. His panama hat was stomped to death on the floor, his sunglasses crushed, and his snake banished to a bathroom.

Javi just shook his head. “At least I still have my Hawaiian shirt,” he said to no one in particular.

“I’m fixin’ to work on that,” Mother said. “You’re going to lose your shirt tonight, Javi.” But she smiled when she said it.

“Where’d you learn to do that, bonita?” Javi asked me.

I shrugged my shoulders. The poker room was stuffed full of people and I was more worried about bathrooms than accepting accolades. With two of the four men’s bathrooms out of commission due to animal storage, we had to open up the one Ladies Room to the men, never a good thing in my experience. But with only four ladies and the still questionable Mother in the poker room, what else could we do?

It took me only a couple of seconds to realize Dante had left the room after the fracas. “Damn it to hell! He’s in the wind again,” I mumbled under my breath, staring at the door where I’d last seen him. I headed to the bathroom ─ again.

By the time I grabbed a water bottle and made my way back to my next table, the room was back to normal. Anyone walking in now would have no clue anything other than a poker game had taken place that evening.

I tapped a dealer on the shoulder to signal I was ready to take over. “Next hand,” I said.

The players were fired up. The college kids looked like they were holding their own. Both had a fair amount of chips in front of them. Before the commotion, Javi had won a huge pot and was back to stacking his chips.

“Don’t be issuing Social Security numbers on ‘em, Javi,” Black said, referring to the chips he’d lost to Javi. “You’re just babysitting my children over there. They have to be home by sunup.”

I smiled, patting Thweaty on the back. He jerked awake with a start. “I call,” he said, before he realized he didn’t have any cards in front of him.

“In due time, Thweaty,” I said, taking my place in the box. “How’s your head, Joe?” I asked as I shuffled the cards.

“I’m good, girl. Never would have figured I’d have a friggin’ snake hangin’ from it. Thanks for gettin’ that bastard off me,” he replied and tossed me four redbirds.

“Glad I could help. Hi, Pate,” I said to the bald-headed player that had taken up residence at the table during the time I had rotated out. “Good to see you. Crystal, you’re under the gun.”

I pitched cards to the players. Lem was at it again. “I got twenty on red,” he said.

“I’m in,” Javi mumbled.

I shook my head, smiling knowingly at Pate. He threw a handful of chips onto the table. “Whatever that is,” he snarled.

I eyeballed the chips. “The standard, gentleman. Thirty-five.”

Show and tell was over. I had no doubt about the tell part. Probably the story was already being told in poker rooms all across town. By tomorrow it’d be all over the state. Poker players live in a small world.

I wasn’t tired any more, only wired. What’s more, I hadn’t worried about Runt in several hours. Even thoughts of Shade had vanished.

But my money was more on my mind than ever.

To be continued Monday.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Eight

2009-04-15T02:55:00.000-05:00

When I first came to work for Whitey, his finances had sprung a leak. Dollars drizzled out the back door by way of his employees, a bad thing for legal and illegal businesses.

Whitey was new to running a card room and so was I, but as an accountant, money is money. I looked over his operation and initiated some changes right away. Because of those modifications, it’d be hard to steal from him now.

One thing I encouraged Whitey to implement was that after every business night dealers had to log the house rake they’d taken in and their tips. The tips are totally theirs but if all the dealers aren’t on the same par with the rake, it sends a warning to Whitey of possible improprieties.

We decided too that whenever there’s an all-in bet, Whitey or I had to supervise the payoff. If a dealer takes too much out of a pot or makes too many mistakes, it leads to dissatisfied players. That results in poker folker carrying their money to other card rooms.

Whenever I don’t leave the game room until early, early morning ─ or late, late night, however you wanted to look at it ─ it’s my own fault. I’m doing my accounting thing closing out the books.

With so many poker players passing through the game room the night before, I didn’t get to Whitey and Angelina’s guest room until early in the morning. The physical activity of fire-fighting, combined with exhaustion from the animal outburst adrenaline rush, made sleeping easy. I didn’t wake up until mid afternoon.

My first thoughts were about Runt but Danta and my money were a close second. As I snuggled under the comforter, I got the giggles recalling the flying feathers, Mother’s wig mid-flight, and the area’s businessmen, politicians, professors, and college kids running across the room in fear of one little old snake. I guess none of them had a snake-collecting brother like Runt.

“T.R.,” Whitey yelled as he banged on his guest room door. “Wake up and get dressed. Shade wants us to come to the ropin’ arena.”

Last week I would have said, “So!” and turned over in bed for more sleep. But today I jumped up and started pulling on last night’s jeans. I wet my hair, ran my fingers through to spike it, and raced out the door. Last night’s makeup was still tolerable but yesterday’s deodorant could have used a little help.

Whitey and Angelina were waiting by the door, cowboy hats on, ready to go.

“Great gophers, we’re leaving now? No breakfast?” I said, looking at the chef. “I have to at least pee!”

“Get going,” said Whitey.

“Grab that box of Cheerios,” said Angelina. So much for gracious hosts and the fine cuisine I was expecting.

“What’s the dang rush?” I asked as the three of us stuffed ourselves and the Cheerios into Whitey’s little two-seater car.

“A little black horse is at the ropin’ competition,” Whitey said.

“S-o-o-o? It’s my brother that’s interested in horses. Not me,” I said, urging more explanation.

“A skinny young man with a totally shaved head’s riding it.”

“A-a-a-and?” This was like pulling cactus thorns out of your own butt ─ slow and painful. My grumpy, food-deprived state of mind thought Whitey’d never get to the point and if he did, I wondered if I’d be interested in it.

“This rider can’t rope worth a shit!”

“Runt? Runt’s at the roping?” My brother was more hat than cowboy. He loved the horses and the western wear but was lousy at the work. He definitely couldn’t rope worth a shit.

Whitey laughed. “I knew that last part would identify him!”

“Black horse, though? And bald?”

“All I know is what Shade told me. My guess is he couldn’t say Runt’s name because he was surrounded by people. I had to ask him if the guy was Runt. Shade said to get there fast. I take it Runt might have to leave soon. Shade said the horse was for sale and it might be one you’d want to buy. Cover story maybe?”

I shrugged my shoulders but we were so mushed up together in the little car, the gesture probably went unnoticed. “Gosh, I’ll be glad to see him,” I said. I wondered if I meant Runt, Shade, or the horse. “I hope Shade told him about Sloppy…and the fire. I don’t have the heart to tell him about either one.”

We were at the arena in no time, but then again, nothing’s very far away from any fixed point in this town. We parked the car at the back of the lot, the closest spot available to where we needed to go, and headed through the gate, searching for Shade or a bald-headed cowboy.

Shade found us before we spotted him. He came up behind us, twirled me around, and kissed me on the lips. I was so shocked I didn’t protest or have time to enjoy it. Nor did my chocha ignite in a Biblical manner. He hugged me hard and spoke over my shoulder, only loud enough for me, Whitey, and Angelina to hear.

“When you see Runt,” Shade whispered loudly enough for us and only us to hear, “don’t let on it’s him. In fact, hardly even give him a glance. Just look at the horse like you’re interested in buying it. You can probably talk in a low voice about anything you want as long you feel it’s safe and people think you’re examining the horse. You guys got it?”

He pulled away from me and gave me a slap on the butt. I wrinkled my nose. Maybe he was taking his role as a pretend boyfriend a little too seriously! Every female eye in the arena was watching, questioning when, exactly, had I entered Shade’s life again. I certainly wasn’t in the picture at the last rodeo.

“This is a sweetheart of a horse, honey,” Shade said loudly. He took my arm and we started walking. “I think you’ll really like him. He’s down by the far stalls. His owner thought he wanted to be a roper but he can’t rope worth a hoot so he’s sellin’ out.”

I saw horse and cowboy looking our way. That was Runt, all right, but even my mom would have had to do a double take to recognize him with that shaved head. I feasted my eyes on my bald brother until we got closer, then I switched my gaze to the horse. Of course it was Tonto, the little pinto, dyed black.

We shook hands all around and I got right to running my hand over the horse’s crest, withers, and back. “God, I’ve been so worried,” I told my brother.

“I’m totally sorry, Sis. I’ve really gone and done something stupid. I’m knee deep in trouble.”

I lifted up one of Tonto’s hooves and acted interested. “Oh, Runt. What have you done?” Shade, Whitey and Angelina were standing around like they were interested in the horse too. I never realized before how hard it is to listen closely to someone without looking at them.

“Shit, Sis. It involves computers, don’t ya know. Ever hear of biometrics?”

“Yeah, but can’t say I really know what it means.” I lifted up another hoof. A couple of cowboys stopped by to see what Shade was up to. If Shade’s interested in a horse, everybody’s interested! Conversation stopped until they got the hint and moved on.

“Well, to cut to the chase, biometrics reduces fingerprints or eyeballs to a numeric string by a mathematical algorithm and stores it for later analysis and access control.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. Anyway, these images are then distorted or altered in some way so they can’t be stolen by hackers.”

I knew I had an overwhelmed-by-technology look on my face. Word processing I can handle. Spread sheets and databases are a snap. I can even use the computer to take a photo of your dog and stick your head on it. But I can’t even pronounce algorithm.

“It’s a security thing, sis. Think fun house mirrors just for eyes and fingers. Ya can’t get into a building unless the funny mirror image is just like the one stored in the company’s computer.”

“Oh.” I nodded my head like I understood exactly what he was talking about. Otherwise, the explanation would go on and on, getting more technical instead of simpler. That’s how computer nerds like Runt explain things.

“Let me guess,” Shade said. “You developed a program that reconstitutes that distorted image, one that would let you inside sensitive areas of a business computer.”

Shade shut up again as more cowboys stopped by to listen. He’s popular at roping and rodeos.

“This horse is a good size for you, T.R.,” Shade said for the listeners’ benefit. “Just because you want a strawberry roan, I wouldn’t rule this pony out.”

I played along. “But I always wanted a strawberry roan horse, not a black one,” I said, looking at Tonto’s third hoof. Only one more to go, then what would I look at?

Runt kicked the dirt with the point of his cowboy boot. Shade smacked his forehead like I was being so stupid. I wanted to tell the cowboys to move on, nothing to see here, but, of course, that would have made them even more curious. It was better if we all just acted normal but quiet.

The cowboys laughed at me as Shade rolled his eyes for their benefit and they moved on.

“Well, for this company’s program anyway,” Runt continued the conversation as if we hadn’t been interrupted. “But I bet I could use similar coding for other programs. That’s one reason why this program is so valuable for….” He paused.

Shade continued for him, “…for, let’s say, the criminal element.”

“I ain’t proud of it!” Runt said defensively. “But it was such a challenge I just couldn’t resist.”

“Oh, Runt,” I said.

“Once I realized what I’d actually done, I tried to back out of the deal but the guy wasn’t havin’ any of it. He don’t want the money back. He wants me to continue running the program until he gets the information he needs! He wants to use it to take control of the company.”

“Which company?” I let Shade do the talking since it took everything I had to control my emotions. I felt like throttling Runt, at the very least. But I wanted to grab him and hug him too. I’d been so worried. What would Mom and Dad have to say about the prodigal son when they heard about this?

“Sirlo Consolidated,” Runt said in answer to Shade’s question. “The dude that hired me works for them…and against them, if you know what I mean.”

“Who’s the dude?” said Shade.

“Tom Sirlo Junior.”

“Sirlo Junior? He’s tryin’ to steal from his ol’ man?” Whitey asked.

“Yeah. That’s why he’s so desperate to get me to keep the program going. If he gets the information, he’s a winner all the way around. He steals from his ol’ man and eventually gains control of the company. He also has me over the feed trough because I developed the program. If he can’t get the information, he has to shut me up somehow and I’m afraid he’ll go the cheap route ─ a bullet to the head. I couldn’t get out of this mess if I wanted to. That’s why I had to disappear. I’m sorry, Sis. I’m so sorry.”

“You got paid?” Whitey asked.

“Half up front. Half later. Cash. No paper trail.”

“And the front half’s already spent,” Whitey stated.

“Yeah. I paid off The Barely Legal with it. But there’s more to this....”

We all sucked in air and individually held our breath. Shade and I were looking at Tonto’s teeth now. I was following Shade’s lead in what to look at but even I realized there wasn’t much more to see.

“I devised a computer worm that compromises the biometrics so that the system’s operator can’t just go in and change the way it transforms the images in order to foil my program. They have to start all over by getting new images and that’ll take awhile. And that’s only if and when they realize they’ve been had.”

“And the worm is already in place,” I said, feeling mournfully heavy in my soul. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Runt nod.

Nobody said a thing for a full thirty seconds. Finally Shade took charge again and broke the silence.

“Could Sirlo Senior already know that his security’s been compromised?” he asked.

“Doubtful. Too soon.”

“OK, Runt,” Shade said. “Here’s your charged up cell phone. Don’t use it unless you’re desperate. These people are high tech so they may be listening for you. And they’re mean. We already found that out.” He shook Runt’s hand again.

“I know. Thanks for the help with the fire at The Barely Legal. And be careful with my truck. It may be ugly but it’s mine.”

“How do you know about the fire and the truck?” I asked.

My bald brother grinned. “Burned hair ain’t your best look, Sis. I got web cams all over the outside of the trailer and barn.”

Great. My worse look ever and it was on the Internet. I hope nobody else was watching or I’d never get another date anywhere in the world!

“I could feel you wanting to be there,” I said. There was a man watching us, standing just out of earshot. At least I hoped he was out of earshot. It was pretty noisy where we were standing, what with the equipment being banged around, animals bellowing, and cowboys yakking all over the place.

“Who were the two guys who set the fire?” Shade asked.

“Tom and some guy named Eddy,”

“You got a way to keep your laptop battery charged?”

“Yup.”

“We’ll email you in a day or two. Let me sniff around a little. Stay safe,” Shade said.

We all shook hands with Runt and turned to leave. “Thanks, you guys. I love ya, Sis,” Runt said quietly to our backs.

I looked at Shade and said, “I love you too, Runt.” And we walked away. I heard saddle leather creak as Runt mounted Tonto and walked the horse towards the arena exit.

I needed to get home and have a good cry. My face hurt from holding the tears in. Runt, you idiot nerd!

Maybe I’m the idiot. I forgot to tell him about Sloppy!

As he rode away, I heard the stranger ask Runt if Shade Saunders was going to buy that horse.

“Ah…Saunders wants the girl to buy it,” I heard Runt say.

I looked back at the bald cowboy sitting high on the horse and the man standing beside him with a hand on the animal’s flank.

“If Shade recommends that horse, I’d sure be interested in buying it myself…if she don’t want it.” At least that’s what I think I heard. We were getting out of earshot.

I saw Runt get back off Tonto. What was that all about?

“OK,” Shade said, laughing loudly. He quieted down immediately but grinned widely. “We’re all goin’ to smile now…and chat it up! We’re happy. It’s a cute horse. You’re interested!”

We all gave weak, fake laughs. “Better than that!” Shade said. And we tried harder. Somehow we carried it off all the way to the parking lot and the two-seater car.

Whitey got behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. The air conditioner came to life with the engine and started cooling off the car. He climbed back out. We all stood around, thinking our own thoughts.

“What do we know about Sirlo Senior?” Shade asked.

“Why?” I asked.

Shade shrugged his shoulders. “I’m desperate for information, I guess. We need to start unraveling this somewhere. I, for one, would like to know why his kid hates his dad so much.”

“Well, I know the old man’s a millionaire,” Whitey said. “Self made. His father, Tom Junior’s grandfather, was a garbage collector. His grandmother, a maid in a big house. Only one child, Sirlo Senior.”

That was way more information than I could think of. I knew Tom Junior from school. His folks were already rich and it didn’t occur to me to wonder how, when, where, or why. Rich is rich.

Shade looked at Whitey, probably wondering the same thing. “How do you know all this?” he asked.

Whitey smiled and shrugged. “My parents owned the big house.”

Oh. Family money would be so totally nice to have.

“A young Sirlo executive comes in to play poker now and then,” Whitey continued, leaning against the driver’s side door of his car. “I could issue him a special invitation and have a little chat with him.”

“The trouble with that,” Shade said, “is we don’t know who’s with Junior and who’s not. Surely he’s not trying to pull off something like this all by himself. I agree we need to talk to someone on the inside, though. I just don’t know who yet.”

“Maybe Casey could help in some way,” I said.

“No, we wouldn’t want her to risk her job for trouble that Runt’s made for himself,” Shade replied.

We all continued thinking quietly.

“My cousin cleans....” Angelina’s voice dribbled off to nothing. No one said anything.

Finally, out of politeness, I said, “Cleans what, Angelina?”

“The Sirlo offices.”

We turned our faces to her and our chins collectively dropped to our chests. “Well, I’ll be cow kicked,” Shade said.

“She like some poker players. Cleans up at night. Sleeps all day,” Angelina said.

Yep. Janitors and poker players do clean up at night. I can never tell if Angelina means to crack a joke or if it just pops out that way.

“But we’d be risking her job too,” I said.

“She be goin’ back to Mexico soon anyway,” Angelina said, waving her hand in a going away motion.

“Let’s think this through,” Shade said. “We’ll sleep on it. I have to get back to the arena and talk to some guys about makin’ saddles. Want to stay with me, Stripper, or go home with Whitey and Angelina?” Shade asked me.

“I might as well stay with you. It’ll save you a trip to the poker room.” I couldn’t believe I didn’t even twitch my nose at his nickname for me.

“Thanks, you guys,” I said. “See you Tuesday night, if not sooner.” I gave Angelina a hug, then Whitey. So did Shade. Well, at least he hugged Angelina. Whitey and Shade did one of those man things which involved bumping fists and knocking shoulders. Where do men get that stuff?

The parking lot was packed with trucks, making narrow going while dodging giant side mirrors that all cowboys believe they need when towing trailers ─ and for all I know they do. Never in my life have I pulled anything connected to my car by a little silver ball.

Our hands brushed once, then twice. On the third brush Shade covered my hand with his and we walked like that the rest of the way to the gates of the arena. I sure hoped Casey was in there to see this. She’d die!

To be continued Thursday.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Nine

2009-04-15T02:50:00.000-05:00

As we walked around the fair grounds, folks stopped Shade here and there to talk saddles, chaps, and such. I wasn’t listening too hard since I was thinking about Runt and everything he’d told us. I still didn’t understand biometrics but I knew trouble when I saw it.

Sonja, her face full of makeup, stepped out of a group of cowboys. “Hey, T.R.,” she said. “I hear you guys are going into mud wrestling next, since your parrot and snake act didn’t work out too well last night.”

I knew that story would make its way around town. It just aggravated me to hear Sonja mention it.

“Hey, yourself,” I said. “You volunteering to be a wrestler, Sonja?”

“Maybe,” she said, shooting me a dirty look. “Depends on the pay.”

Shade looked from me, to Sonja, and then back to me again, totally confused. “I suppose you’ll fill me in later on what you ladies are talkin’ about,” he said to me. Apparently Shade hadn’t heard about our poker-slash-animal act last night.

“Shade, when ya comin’ back to a real poker room?” Sonja asked.

“T.R.’s keepin’ me pretty busy lately, Sonja.”

It was my turn to shoot a dirty look, complete with nose wrinkle.

“Well, you are!” he said, defensively.

“Come back our way anytime, Shade,” she said walking away.

“Wait. Sonja,” I spoke up quickly. “What do you hear from that brother of yours?”

“Dante?” She questioningly looked from me to Shade, then back again. Like what did I need with two men, especially when she’d like one of them herself. And I don’t mean the one that’s her brother.

“Not a thing,” she said. “If you see him, though, don’t take any of his checks. He wrote me a hot one three-weeks ago and rumor has it he has a bad one over at Barry’s place too. I don’t know what his trip is, but he’s gonna get his ass kicked if he’s not careful.”

“True story,” I said, but I was thinking I’d like to be the one doing the kicking.

“See ya another time, Shade,” Sonja said. She gave him a seductive look, then turned and wiggled and jiggled off.

“Doesn’t she wear any underwear?” I asked. “Never mind,” I said quickly. I didn’t want Shade saying anything. He just might know the answer.

“ ‘Come back anytime?’ ” I repeated, trying my best to act like Sonja.

“That was before you stepped back into my life, Stripper.”

Which would have been what…two, three days ago?

“Jeez. I’m going to the john,” I said, walking off. I was disgusted by the thought of Sonja and Shade as a couple. Or even in the same room together.

Walking through the crowd, I felt safe among the men and women at the arena. Most of them were local folks with regular jobs who cowboyed part-time. I made my way to the ladies room. Lucky for me the bathroom still had toilet paper. I hate it towards the end of a rodeo or roping event when the paper’s all gone and I have to root around in my pockets for tissue.

As I walked out of the little girls’ room, a car horn tooted. I turned towards the sound to see who it was and there was Shade’s boss’ cute little red convertible. The pretty girl in it waved and hollered out to me.

“You seen Shade?”

“Yeah. He’s on the other side of the arena,” I shouted back. “Around the back.”

“You going there? Hop in. I’ll give you a ride.”

I had to think that one over for a second, considering all that had happened recently. I didn’t know who this girl was but I knew the car was the one Shade had been driving last night and I figured even a brief ride in that convertible would cool me off a little. The afternoon was hot and standing around talking in the sun had covered me in sweat.

Anyway, she wasn’t some big, scary dude. She was a woman. No, more like a girl. If things got tough, I could take her!

“Hey, thanks,” I said, agreeing to the ride. Why not? She was going to Shade and so was I. “I absolutely love your car. Is it your dad’s?”

“Ah…yah, sure. Back there?” she said, pointing down the lane.

“Yeah, near that long horse trailer. HEY!”

Pretty Girl slammed the transmission into first and gunned the car out of the parking lot and onto the highway. Suddenly we were going fast. Very fast! She barely looked old enough to have a driver’s license, let alone drive for NASCAR.

“What the hell are you doing? STOP THIS CAR!” I shrieked, clutching the window frame to keep from being thrown around inside the car. I hadn’t thought I needed to fasten a seat belt just to go to the other side of the arena.

“Shade has a hard time hanging onto his vehicles and his girlfriends, doesn’t he?” she cooed.

“How would I know?” I replied, hanging on for dear life. “I’m not his vehicle or his girlfriend! Stop this damn car! I want out! Are you crazy or what?”

“Yeah, right! Shut up. Ride or jump. Your choice but don’t call me crazy!” She pushed a button and the door locks snapped into childproof mode. If I wanted out, it would be up and over, not through the door. Jumping could be fun but landing would suck big time.

This couldn’t be happening again, being kidnapped but for real this time. Where was my brain? I knew better than to get into a car with a stranger. A crazy stranger, at that. If I survived this, I’d never be too lazy to walk again.

I grabbed the dashboard with my left hand and the door with my right. It took concentration to keep my butt in the seat. As my body swayed with the motion of the little convertible, my mind tried to fathom the connection that Runt could have with this girl, this car, or even with Shade.

Pretty Girl flew pass the other vehicles on the road, weaving in and out of traffic, barely avoiding slower moving cars and trucks. The traffic light up ahead turned red and I mentally prepared myself to jump out when she stopped.

But we raced right through the light. We never even slowed down. Cross traffic veered away, honking angrily. An eighteen wheeler narrowly missed our rear bumper.

“Oh, shit!” I said out loud. Pretty Girl wasn’t laughing either and from the looks of her grip on the steering wheel, I think she was thinking the same thing I was. We were going to die!

Who would help Runt if this pretty little nut killed me, I wondered.

“Listen. I don’t know what this is all about,” I managed to say through tight lips, “or who the hell you are, but killing us both won’t get you anywhere. We need to stop or at least slow down and talk about this.”

Pretty Girl’s brown hair, long and lovely, whipped around her face like an America flag being raced around the rodeo arena. I felt like an old, short-haired, ugly boy next to her.

“Why? If you end up in several bloody pieces, it would sure piss Shade off!”

“I doubt it. I don’t mean anything to Shade.” A couple of papers fluttering around the floorboard flew up and out. “Wait! Shade? You mean this isn’t about Runt?”

“Runt! What’s a Runt? I saw Shade holding your hand!” She gunned the engine and we sped up even faster. “I get so mad at him sometimes!”

“Oh, well, yeah. I know that feeling,” I said, thinking fast, “but Shade was just holding my hand in the parking lot to help me around all those big mirrors.” OK, no Runt connection. In a way, I felt relieved. I was still going to die but at least I’d do it knowing this kidnapping had nothing to do with Runt.

“Shade and I are just friends,” I told Pretty Girl. “We went to school together. And the other night he came into the place where I work.”

“I know. I know where you work and what you do,” she said snidely. Oh, yeah, I forgot. The secret that everybody knows, with almost the same headline. Only this time it would read, Known Hold’em Dealer Killed During Second Kidnapping.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” I said, in an attempt to play the sympathy card.

“Go ahead. It’s not my car. Or my Daddy’s.”

“Then whose car is it?” I looked at her, momentarily distracted from the speed of the car.

She took her eyes off the road briefly, looking at me like I was the loony one. “Gimme a break. Like you don’t know whose car this is!”

“I don’t know. Really. Whose is it?” I asked with real curiosity.

“It’s Shade’s car, of course.” She spit out the words angrily.

Oh. “I really had no idea. I told you I didn’t know him well. If this is Shade’s car, who are you and why are you driving it?” I asked.

“I’m Toni, his girlfriend.” She stuck a hand towards me like she wanted me to shake it. The car took a severe swerve and she quickly put her hands back in the ten and two positions on the steering wheel.

“Don’t you dare take your hands off that wheel again!” I admonished. “And slow this car down!” Like Shade’s girlfriend was going to listen to me. A girlfriend that looked all of sixteen-years old. What was he thinking?

“Are you even old enough to drive?” I asked.

“Yes. But Daddy won’t let me get a driver’s license yet. He says I’m too reckless.”

Daddy’s right.

“And I drive too fast.”

Daddy’s right again. Pretty girl was obviously a couple aces shy of a full deck and that was a polite description of her mental state. I looked behind us to see if men in white coats were chasing us waving a straight jacket.

“Shade didn’t tell you about me?” she asked.

“No-o-o. Like I said, we’re not that close.”

My nose was running from the wind in my face and I had to squint to keep the dirt out of my eyes. I stuck my hand in my pocket for one of those tissues I thought I’d have to use earlier in the restroom. They were tangled around my cell phone.

Oh. My cell phone.

I took out a tissue and blew my nose. When I put the paper hankie back into my pocket, I flipped my phone open. With my thumb I found the first speed dial button. That would be Mom and Dad in Dallas. Too far away to help and anyway, Mom would totally freak out.

I found the second button. That would be Runt. He can’t even help himself at the point in time, let alone help me. The third button, Casey!

But Casey was at work and I didn’t know if she could catch a call on her cell. I pushed her button anyway.

Toni sped through another curve. I felt my side of the car catch the wind and lift up off the ground. Toni struggled to keep it on the road. I used the distraction to slip the phone out of my pocket and placed it on the seat between my leg and the door.

Did it dial? I didn’t dare look at the small screen and I couldn’t hear anything from the phone, which was good, in a way. That meant Toni couldn’t hear anything either.

“Hey, that’s Bill and Terry’s place,” I said, a little louder than normal. I had to make sure Casey could hear me in the noisy, open air environment of the convertible ─ if she had even answered the call!

And if she had answered it, did she realize I desperately needed help? Or did she answer during a lull in our conversation and hang back up. Ca-a-a-s-s-e-e-y!

No lull. No lull. Talk, T.R.! “Why are we going past here? Isn’t that Tracey’s place? They have a new barn. I really like it. It goes with the house.” I didn’t know what I was saying. I just didn’t want a lull in the conversation. I needed to fill the air time with words. Lots of words.

“This is kidnapping, ya know. And grand theft auto. You’re going to be in big trouble for taking Shade’s convertible! Let alone me! Both those things are against the law, ya know!” I had no idea what constitutes grand theft, but it sounded good to me and I’d bet the meat wagon Toni didn’t know what it meant either. Besides, this conversation was for Casey’s benefit, more than Toni’s

“I don’t care,” said Toni. “And I don’t care about you! I don’t car about this car. I didn’t care about his truck either when I took it.”

“YOU took his truck? Now why would you do something stupid like that?”

Ca-rap. I let “stupid” slip out before I caught myself. If she objected to being called crazy, I felt fairly certain she wouldn’t like stupid.

“I-I-I mean,” I stammered, trying to cover my choice of words. “Why would a girl take her fellow’s truck for a swim? There’s the Double Tree Bridge. Where are we going? Come on, Toni, why kidnap me? Shade dates lots of women. Why pick on me?”

Casey, please be listening.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she sing-songed. Oh, great. She must really be crazy to toss a kiddy retort like that around. “You won’t like it no matter where we’re going, so why ask?” Toni added.

“What do you mean I won’t like it? What are you going to do to me? There’s the horse whisperer’s place! THIS IS KID-NAP-PING!”

“You givin’ a guided tour? Shut up!” Toni snapped. “I’m tired of talking to you.”

“I don’t want to shut up. You’re kidnapping me. I got a right to talk! Isn’t there a sale at the mall or something we can go to instead?” I wrinkled my nose at the absurdity of it all. A jealous girlfriend steals Shade’s truck, then his car, and now me.

The little car slowed for a curve, still moving way too fast for me to try and jump. It was hard to believe but we still weren’t very far from the roping arena, at least as the crow flew. Surely there were cops still around there.

Casey! Hook me up, girl!

We were off the paved roads now and onto dirt ones but that hadn’t slowed Toni down. Our speed hadn’t dropped below forty and mostly it had been fifty or more, way too fast for country roads. Trees blurred together as if they were one. Hackberries, pecans, post oaks, and mimosas all became a single species. Farm houses zoomed past like they were in a subdivision instead of acres apart.

The cloud of dust the car kicked up was suffocating. It felt like the front tires funneled it directly into the interior of the car. Toni had the AC on, in spite of the top being down, and it was doing a fine job of sucking in the dirt and throwing it at our faces.

“What farm road are we on? Where’re we going?” I thought I liked fast cars but I guess I only liked them when I’m doing the driving.

“To the river again,” she said.

I swallowed hard. “The river…again? Where Shade’s truck went in? YOU put Shade’s truck in the river?”

“Yes,” she said, with a smile that showed she was proud of herself.

“Wow.” I was impressed, if it was true. I didn’t know if I believed her or not. “You must be a very good swimmer.”

“I am. I’ve gotten gold medals in swimming at the Special Olympics,” she announced. “My daddy taught me how to swim in that river.”

Special Olympics medals? OK, now I believed her.

Ca-a-a-s-s-e-e-y! I was really scared now. I don’t swim well at all! I can dog paddle but not in current as fast as that river. And I hate to get water in my ears!

“Toni, why are you so pissed off at Shade? I thought you were his girlfriend.”

“I am.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Shade treats me bad. He doesn’t talk to me, goes out with other women….” Again she glanced my way. “…YOU! He comes home late or not at all.”

Yeah, sounds like some of my past relationships with men. ”He write you any hot checks?” I asked.

“What?”

“Never mind. Do you live with Shade?”

“Kinda. My dad and I live on Shade’s ranch.”

Shade’s ranch?

“You mean Goodwin’s Ranch?”

“Who’s Goodwin?” she said, shooting me another you’re-stupid look.

I started to rethink some assumptions I’d made ─ the assumption this wasn’t Shade’s car, the assumption that wasn’t Shade’s ranch, the assumption I would get out of this alive, and the assumption Toni was only slightly simple-minded.

“So you stole his truck and ditched it in the river to teach him a lesson.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. I was piecing together Toni’s logic and doing it out loud, not only for Casey but for Toni too. She could correct any misconceptions on my part.

She smiled sweetly. “Yes.”

She was really a beautiful girl. Simple-minded but fantastic looking.

“And now you’re going to ditch his car in the river too.” Another statement.

“Uh-huh.”

“Have you and Shade ever been to the movies or out to dinner?”

“No, but someday we will. My daddy won’t let me date yet.”

OK, this girlfriend thing was all in Pretty Girl’s head, just her imagination and hormones working overtime. But her dangerous driving was all too real!

She gave me another pretty smile. “Where’s the sale in the mall?”

Whoa! What a turn-around! She switched gears faster than this little car.

“Um…er…Bonnie’s Boutique. Yeah, that cute little store right next to the food court. Prices are half off, I hear. Want to go?”

“I don’t have any money. Daddy doesn’t let me have any cash.” Toni slowed the car.

“I do,” I said. “I have money. I have credit cards too.”

“Your dad lets you have credit cards?”

My dad? Now I knew she was wacky. It’d been awhile since my dad had a say in how I spent my money.

“Sweet!” she said, oblivious of my age. “Can we go this weekend?”

Can we go before you kill me? “Um…er…my car’s in the shop. The only way we can go to the mall is in this car.” If we can keep it out of the river. “We can go now if you want....”

“I don’t have to ditch the car in the river yet. We can do that after we go shopping.”

We? My new best friend was crazy. I hope you’re listening, Casey. You and Weeba have been replaced by a new lunatic.

“Let’s slow down some more then, way down. I have to think what I need to get at the mall. What do you want?”

“A shirt. And jeans.”

I looked past Pretty Girl. Across the pasture through a break in the trees I thought I saw flashing lights on another road. If there were sirens, I couldn’t hear them. I told myself not to get too hopeful.

“And shoes,” Toni continued. “Two pairs, one red, one black. And a bra.”

My side mirror showed flashing lights way behind us. I love you, Casey.

“Stop the car so I can check my purse to see how much money I have, Toni, and if I have my credit cards with me.”

I wanted out of that car bad! The convertible rolled to a stop and I lifted myself up to sit on the back of the seat like Shade had done last night. I swung my feet over the car door and hopped out. God, I wanted to kiss the ground. Instead, I squatted down beside the car where Toni couldn’t see the cop cars coming down the road.

“Come here and help me count my money,” I said. “I’m not very good at numbers.”

I heard the driver’s door open and close. “Me neither,” she said. “I never get to go to the mall without my dad.” Toni came around the front of the car and squatted down beside me. “This is going to be so much fun.”

Well, that made me feel bad…for about three seconds! I dumped my purse out in the dirt between us and started handing her makeup to keep her distracted. “Here’s my lipstick. It’s a pretty color. Try it. And let’s see, mascara. And blush.” I don’t even use the stuff but I was glad to find it at the bottom of my purse with all the gum wrappers and pennies.

The sheriff’s deputies found us minutes later, sitting cross-legged in the dirt next to the convertible on the side of the road. We probably looked like clowns from trying on my makeup without a mirror. The officers had turned off their overhead flashers and had slowly driven up to the empty convertible, probably worried about what they’d find.

Toni looked up as she heard their car doors shut. She didn’t have a care in the world.

“Oh, good, Toni.” I said. “Here are some friends of mine. Maybe they’ll go to the mall with us. Hi, fellows. Good timing. We want to go shopping.”

“T.R., you OK?” Darryl the Deputy asked. In high school we called him Darryl the Doper. Both hands held his gun crotch-high in front of him, barrel pointed downward.

“Yeah, I’m OK. Toni wants to go to the mall, don’t you, Toni? Can you guys take her?” Freddy from the other unit talked quietly into his shoulder mic as he approached us. He, too, had his gun out and ready, hanging intimidatingly at his side.

This time I knew they were real guns and Shade wasn’t around to accuse me of imagining them. The cops had taken circumstances seriously enough to warrant firearms. Of course, just a few minutes ago I was taking the situation serious enough to almost wet my pants.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. We can go with her to the mall. We have to make a stop first, if that’s OK.”

Yeah, a stop at the sheriff’s office.

“Fine with me. How about you, Toni?”

“Sounds great. But don’t tell my daddy ‘cause he doesn’t let me date.”

“That’s OK,” Freddy said. “This isn’t a real date.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll explain it all to him,” Darryl said.

I bet they would.

“She wants new jeans and a shirt.” It was the only thing I could think of to say. It all seemed so ridiculous, all of a sudden. She had a child’s brain in a beautiful woman’s body.

“And a new bra,” said Toni. I saw a glazed look come over the men’s eyes as they drank in her beauty and visualized the bra buying. Both deputies blinked it away quickly. Toni stood up, shaking off the dirt. She was ready to go. I scooped the rest of my junk into my purse, along with a lot of dirt.

“Cuffs?” Darryl asked me.

“Nah. But be sure to lock the doors. I don’t know her last name but her dad works with Shade Saunders. He still work at Goodwin’s place?” I asked, testing out Toni’s information. But nobody bothered to answer me. They were both busy with Toni.

“She seems to be a little….” I made a funny face and jerked my head to one side, hoping they’d get my message without me having to spell it out in front of her. ”She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s that,” Darryl said.

“Gotcha,” said Freddy, making his own funny face with a jerk of the head. He led a smiling Toni to his squad car. As he opened the door, he looked back at me. “I told Casey you were safe but she said if you didn’t immediately talk to her this time, you weren’t goin’ to be safe for long. By the way, you look better than you did the last time I saw you.”

He winked at me. Oh, yeah. Freddy was also a volunteer fireman. I noticed neither of them asked me to the dance next Friday night. Some visuals take time to fade, I guess.

“Aren’t you going with us?” Toni asked me.

“T.R. will be along in a little bit,” Darryl said. “She has to drive the car.” He glanced back at me. “You and Shade datin’ again, T.R.?”

“No, they’re not dating,” Toni said, helpfully. “She just deals him poker, huh, T.R.?” My stomach rolled. Loose lips sink many a game room ship, so to speak.

But Darryl and Freddy both laughed.

“I didn’t hear nothin’, did you, Freddy?” Darryl asked.

“What? I can’t hear ya, Darryl. I have a bug in my good ear.”

Doors slammed. Cars started up and took turns going around the little red car, each cop headed in the opposite direction. I reached for my cell phone. It was still open on the passenger’s seat. I put it to my ear.

“Casey? You still there?”

“I’m still here. Don’t you dare hang up! Talk to me, T.R. Talk to me. And you best start at the beginning.”

Well, I thought, at least I wouldn’t be bored as I drove back to the roping arena. I put the Runt filter on my mouth so I wouldn’t mention him or his problems and started talking about what Casey really wanted to hear. Sexy Shade. Married gals live their lives vicariously through us wild single woman, even if us single gals can’t get a real date.

Fifteen minutes later I pulled into the arena parking lot. The sun was low in the sky, coloring the Texas dusk. The last of the horses had been loaded into trailers. Gear had been cleaned and put into pickups.

A couple of barrel racing girls were leaning over the fence flirting with Shade. He didn’t look like he was buying into it much. He had his back against a fence post with one boot heel hung on the bottom rail. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his hat sat low on his brow.

When Shade saw his car appear through the dust, he glanced at the girls, touched a hand to his hat, then walked towards me. The girls stared after him for a minute or two, then turned away for other game.

“You heard?” I asked him.

“From all kinds of people. Is Toni all right?”

“Yeah.” I paused. “So am I, in case you’re interested.”

“Pokerface, if there’s one thing I appreciate about you, it’s that you’re always OK.”

Now what did that mean!

Shade walked all around the car touching his precious paint job here and there. It must have checked out because he wasn’t cursing. He opened the gas cap compartment and pulled out a spare key holder.

“Just like I thought,” he said. “Empty. That girl’s smart enough.”

“And she drives as good as she swims,” I said. “She told me she belly flopped your truck into the river and then swam away.”

“Shit! I should have known! Guess I’ll have to tell the cops.”

Shade got to the driver’s side and opened the door. “I’ll drive,” he said. I was more than ready to let him. In fact, the farther away from that little car I got, the better I would feel about the world.

“The tires on your side might need to be replaced,” I said as I got back into the car on the passenger’s side. “It corners real good on two wheels, though.”

“Mmm.”

What up with him? Like this little car chase was my fault?

“At least this had nothing to do with Runt,” I commented.

“Mmm.”

It had more to do with Shade’s magnetic sex appeal than anything. It’s his fault!

“So Toni’s your girlfriend?”

“Mmm.”

“I’m hungry,” I said to change the subject. My Cheerios had long since disappeared. I needed meat and potatoes.

“Mmm.”

Something had to get through to Shade.

“I’m pregnant.”

Shade kept facing forwards but cut his eyes to me. Oof. I wished I was preggo and he was the father. Jeez! What was I thinking?

“Stripper, you should have stopped at ‘I’m hungry.’ ”

“Just seeing if you were listening. Your place or mine?”

“Mine. After we stop by your place to get your stuff.”

“And my book.”

“Yeah, and your damn book.”

To be continued Monday.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Ten

2009-04-15T02:45:00.001-05:00

Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains as I threw off the soft, lush bedcovers and reluctantly rolled out of bed. I hated to leave those sheets. They had to have a thread count of at least a thousand and I wondered again who’d decorated Shade’s house. Bachelors aren’t known for sumptuous linens.

Shades’s lovely cedar and rock home made a beautiful bed and breakfast for one ─ me. I’d read myself to sleep in one of the guest rooms upstairs but this time Shade wasn’t beside me to turn off the light. His bedroom, the master suite, was downstairs and my body was fully aware of all eighteen stair steps between us.

Out my window I could see a green pasture, spotted with large oaks and stretching towards the horizon. I started to turn away when movement at the small house off to the right caught my attention. An older man stomped across the porch, his face twisted in anger. Toni chased after him, obviously pleading her case about something.

Abruptly he stopped, turned, and pointed back at the house. I couldn’t hear what he said, but it was clear he wanted her inside. Dejectedly she went, slamming the door in frustration.

Poor Toni, I thought as I went downstairs in my pajamas to look for Shade.

Today was plotting day for the Runt dilemma but I had questions of my own for Shade. My conversation with Toni during our wild ride made me realize I didn’t know much about the adult Shade.

He was standing at the kitchen counter when I came through the doorway.

“You don’t believe in using furniture much, do you?” I said. That wasn’t one of my questions. It was just a freebee I’d thrown in to get me started.

“I like it to be there when I want it, though. Cute jammies,” he said, running his finger down my arm. “Sleep good without me, Stripper?”

“Like I’ve been doing it all my life,” I said, as I looked around the kitchen for something to munch on. Sadly, nothing was in sight. The kitchen was remarkably clean. Actually spotless.

“That could change,” he said. Again the Shade-grin. I’ve seen that many times. Who was I kidding? I was wondering about the next level ─ the Shade kiss.

“Shade, I’ve got to know. How can you afford all this? Don’t you make saddles?”

“Yeah, I make saddles. I also have lines of chaps, purses, luggage, cowboy hats, and clothing. But one thing I’m running low on is my supply of vehicles these days. Jeez, I can’t believe that girl. Her daddy’s gonna lock her in a back room.”

“Maybe, but I think he’s heading towards a cooling off mode. I saw them from my window. Neither looked too happy about the situation.” I assumed he was talking about Toni but I had picked up on another word.

“What do you mean lines?” I asked.

“You know. Lines. Ever hear of Fergus Leather Company, Incorporated?” Shade asked, stretching out the last word.

“Well, yeah. Who hasn’t? Is that what you want to be like?”

“Pokerface, that’s what I am. I’m Fergus of Fergus Leather.”

Ca-rap. That bombshell jogged my memory. When we were in grade school, some bigger kids were teasing him about his name being Fergus. They’s called him Fergus Fartguts and he’d leaped into the kids, kicking, clawing, and punching. Shade had been Shade for so long I never thought of him as Fartguts …I mean Fergus, anymore.

“Then all this is really yours?”

“Yep, really, really mine. I employ several craftsmen from South America and give them the option of living on the ranch as well as working here. That’s why there’re several little houses around.

“Eats are catch as catch can, I’m afraid,” Shade continued, changing the subject. “I don’t have a cook and only have a cleaning lady once a week so you’ll have to make your own bed.”

“Just like home.”

“Could be home.”

Again the tease. Or was he casting about, trying to figure out how I felt about him.

“Careful or someday I’m going to take you up on that teasing, Shade, and make you follow through on those words.” I put my hands on the counter and leaned backwards.

“Who’s teasing? I told you I could make you my life’s work.” Shade took a step towards me, closing the gap between us slightly.

What was with all the innuendos, I wondered, but instead of saying it out loud, I said “I bet you say that to all the women who spend the night.”

“Well, usually only to the women who spend the night in my bed.”

“You didn’t ask me to share your bed,” I snipped, not real sure where the conversation was going or why I was getting my hackles up.

“You didn’t offer to share my bed,” he replied.

He took another step closer. I started feeling the affects of that sun again.

“Well, maybe we should discuss the arrangements for tonight right now,” I said as Shade reached out and ran a finger down the runway of my nose.

“Sorry, Pokerface. Your loss. I won’t be here tonight.”

“What?” I said as I scooted sideways. “Then what’s up with all the word games?”

“Don’t you even want to know where I’ll be?”

“Not really!”

“I think you do. I think you want to know where I’m going just as badly as you want into my bed.”

That did it. Who was he to assume I wanted into his bed? After all, I was just teasing about making arrangements for tonight. I’m sure I was just teasing.

“You stinking butthead! Get over yourself,” I snapped.

“Is that a step up from a plain butthead or a step down? Never mind. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. But I’ll tell you where I’ll be anyway. San Antonio. Clyde, the computer wiz for my company, lives there and I’m going to talk to him about Runt’s biometric problem.”

Oh. That changed everything. “I’m going with you.”

“Gosh, you want into my bed worse than I thought, Stripper.” I wrinkled my nose at him but he kept talking. “Clyde says IBM’s made some advances in biometrics that should interest Runt. He knows someone who works at Sirlo’s so he’s trying to find out which method of distortion Sirlo uses. With his know-how he can help Runt straighten this mess out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me all this earlier?” I asked. “Why am I only just now hearing about it?”

“You were sleeping. You night people tend to do that during the day, don’t ya? For your information, it isn’t breakfast you’re hunting. It’s lunch. And a late lunch at that, which is why I have to get on the road now.”

The phone rang as Shade was talking. He leaned over my right shoulder to answer it, spooning his body against mine as he spoke. He felt good. He smelled good. I felt heat in the chocha area.

“Yo, Clyde…Hey that’s great. You caught me just in time. I was getting ready to leave…Sure. Glad to have you. I’ve got a bedroom waiting for you…See you then.” He hung up the phone and looked down at me, our faces barely an inch apart.

“Trip’s off,” Shade said, as he kissed me on the tip of my nose. “Clyde’s coming here. I have to get ahold of Runt.” He turned and sauntered away. I couldn’t believe he just walked away like that. “You might get lucky tonight after all, Stripper,” he remarked over his shoulder.

“If I do, it’ll be with Clyde!” I spit out the words like they tasted bad and stomped upstairs to my book.

As I paused at the top of the stair, I heard Shade say, “Runt, This is Shade. Call T.R. or me on one of our cells.” Then the front door slammed.

I stretched out on my bed ─ cripes, listen to me calling it my bed. I needed to concentrate on Runt’s problem and get my mind off of Shade. Something was stirring between him and me and it definitely was getting in my way. So instead of focusing on the love/hate chemistry, I zeroed in on Runt’s analogy of fun house mirrors for biometrics. I tried to think of someone ─ anyone ─ at Sirlo’s we could trust but I soon realized I needed another point of view for this problem.

I had brought Casey up to date on Shade and me, for what that was worth, which was nothing. And Toni and me, still not worth much. But I needed to tell her and Weeba about Runt and biometrics. I also needed a sit down talk with Runt. And I definitely needed a plan. So far I had let Shade take the lead in family business and that had to stop.

I tried calling Weeba at the dry cleaners but they said she wasn’t in so I called her at home. She answered on the first ring but she sounded awful.

“What’s up with you? You sick?” I asked. “You sound awful.”

“Sick,” Weeba answered. “Can’t keep anything on my stomach. Very sick.”

“OK, girlfriend. Go back to bed. I’ll check in on you later.” I heard her say “sick” one more time before she hung up.

So much for Weeba’s help. I called Casey and left a message, “Urgent. Call T.R.!”

Four pages into my book, she called.

“What’s up, girlfriend?”

“Hey, you busy?”

“No, I just got off work and I’m headed home.”

“Can you arrange a girl’s night out tonight?”

“Probably. A movie? Dinner? You know I can’t go to a poker room.”

“None of the above. Have you ever seen Shade’s place?”

“N-o-o-o.”

“Would you like to?”

“Yes!” She leaped at the chance.

“Well, I’m stuck here at Shade’s and my car’s at Porter’s Automotive. If you could pick it up and come get me, I’ll give you a tour before we head out for an interesting time. I’ll call Pete Porter with my credit card number.”

“Girl, you’re on. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“You know where he lives?”

“Of course. I know everything. I’m the hub of information in this town.”

“Well, then, do you know Weeba’s sick?”

“Yeah. She needs to see the doctor again. This flu is hanging on way too long.”

“Damn, I wish she felt better. It’s just you and me then. See you in a few.”

It didn’t take Casey long to get to Shade’s with a home tour hanging like a margarita on a string in front of her face. By the time I’d showered and dressed, she was rapping the steer-shaped knocker on the carved front door.

I showed her in and she oohed and aahed her way through the front hall and around the great room. She gawked at the huge stuffed longhorn steer head glaring out from above the river rock fireplace. “Those horns have to be at least six feet across, tip to tip,” she exclaimed. “Yet the whole thing looks small in this room. And look at those balusters on the stairway. Are those real guns?”

“I don’t think so. Probably replicas but don’t they look fine? And don’t you love the Indian rugs just thrown all over the floor?”

Casey didn’t answer. She was busy testing out the red, deep-cushioned sofa. She transferred her butt to each of the hair-on leather chairs around the room. “I love the color of the floor, all that red, green and rust stained into the cement,” she said. “This home is straight out of an architectural magazine. It makes our places look…look…well, so small and messy.”

“Thanks a lot, Casey. I appreciate the support.” My place is little and cramped. Cottage-like, really. Furnishings are shabby chic secondhand or more, garnered from my parents and garage sales. The house is clean but cluttered to the point of messy due to a lazy owner ─ me ─ and lack of storage space. Her house wasn’t any better.

“Do you think Shade decorated this place on his own?” I asked Casey.

She didn’t respond. She was busy looking and lusting. “The kitchen,” she said, “I have to see the kitchen!”

I laughed at her as I led the way. We bypassed the hallway that led to Shade’s bedroom. I hadn’t seen it myself and I wasn’t about to offer her a look-see. The whole place was a contradiction to who and what I thought Shade was and I knew his bedroom wouldn’t disappoint.

“Fergus Leather must be doing all right!” she commented.

“How come I didn’t know about Fergus Leather?” I asked.

“You probably heard about it when he first started out. When he was poor. You weren’t exactly open to conversation about Shade after the two of you stopped dating in college so why would I bring it up?”

“True dat,” I said, using an overused poker room saying. “Tour’s over. We got to go!” I said, kicking myself for being stubborn enough to miss out on seeing this house before. Right now I had bigger game to hunt than even the mounted longhorn over the fireplace. We needed to get out of there before Shade came back and tied me to a gun baluster.

I’d written Shade a note while I waited for Casey. It just said I was with her, nothing more. Of course I really didn’t have anything else to tell him yet. I grabbed my purse and cell and we hustled out the door. A laborer working on the lawn spotted us and hurried away towards some out buildings.

Yeah, hurry, you spy. Go find your boss so you can rat on me. For a minute there the situation took me back to my childhood with Runt blabbing my every move to parental authorities. I had no reason to believe the gardener was rushing to find Shade. Damn, was I feeling paranoid? For all I knew that worker had a hot date waiting behind the shed.

I pointed the Mustang towards The Barely Legal. Shade had left a voice mail for Runt with no results. I had emailed Runt while waiting for Casey but hadn’t gotten a response. I could think of only one other way to contact him...

...the web cams on his ranch.

To be continued Thursday.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Eleven

2009-04-15T02:40:00.000-05:00

On the way to The Barely Legal I filled Casey in on Runt’s stupidity but only after I got a solemn girlfriends-since-grade-school vow that this was a no cops ─ including husband ─ situation. She flashed her hands at me so I’d know she wasn’t crossing her fingers behind her back.

Now that I knew the web cams were at the ranch, they were easy to spot. Casey and I stood side by side in front of them on the wooden deck at the door of the trailer. There was no sign of the man Shade had sent to guard Runt’s place. So much for that promise.

“Runt,” I said, “I need to talk to you. Please call me on my cell phone.” Minutes passed with us standing there stiff as boards, like we were having a very slow photographer take our picture.

No call.

Casey and I started mugging for the camera. We pretended to drop our pants and moon Runt or whoever might be watching. We did silent movie strip teases, in which Casey did quite well, even if we didn’t remove any clothing. She had the husband-advantage on that one. We sang songs and gave ourselves American Idol critiques.

“Paula.”

“Yes, Randy?”

“We finally have talent here. This little girl will go far, I’m telling ya. What do you think, Simon?”

“Ever hear hogs squeal, Randy? That’s what we got….”

My cell rang. Caller ID said Rob. “Hey, Runt,” I said, relief making my voice a little high pitched.

“Good God, stop. Please. This is torture. You two sound like William Hung on estrogen.”

“What? You just sit around watching your web cams all day?”

“Pretty much….”

“We need to get together, Runt. This situation can’t go on like this forever. We need a plan of action. Shade’s bringing in some stupid computer nerd from San Antonio who wants to hook up with you.”

“Watch your language, T.R. Us nerds got to stick together.” Runt hesitated for a moment. “What about Casey?” he asked, suspiciously.

“She’s cool, Runt. She’s on a girlfriend-to-girlfriend vow for cop/husband-related silence.”

“OK, I’m sending a dog to you with directions where we can meet. Come see me.”

“Can we drive there? Should we be saddling horses?”

“Don’t get your panties in a knot, Sis. Just wait for the message. And, please, no more singing. Help yourselves to the diet sodas in the fridge. And bring me a beer,” he said before hanging up.

We weren’t in the house five minutes before we heard scratching at the front door. It was Red Bull with a piece of paper looped through his collar. I started to tear up at the thought of Sloppy but it turned into a strangled laugh when I read the message.

“What?” said Casey.

“Phoo,” I said, blowing air past my lips. “It says come to the barn the back way. He’s been this close the whole time.”

Out the door we went, around the back of the trailer and through the grove of oaks dipping into the ravine, to the side door of the barn. But no one was there. Red had followed us and lay down by Tonto’s empty stall. Casey and I looked at each other.

“Let’s give him a couple of minutes,” I said, so we waited. I petted the horses and Casey scratched Red behind the ears. I noticed the horses had clean hay in their mangers and fresh water so I guess Shade’s man had truly been doing his assignment.

I felt eyeballs drilling my back. Casey must have felt them too for we both turned around at the same time. There was my favorite bald-headed cowboy silhouetted in the opened barn door frame.

“Runt!” we both exclaimed, heading towards him. Casey reached out and rubbed his bald head with her knuckles. We all started to talk at once. “You go first, Runt,” I said.

He took a deep breath. “I’m embarrassed about this. I really am, Casey. I don’t know what it is about me and computer challenges. Some guy asks me if something is possible and I have to see if it really is. I start in on one of these software problems and just have to follow it to the end.”

“It’s not me you have to defend yourself to, Runt. I’m just an old friend, sworn to silence, who happens to be a dispatcher. You’ll have to face the courts on this one unless we can figure a way out.”

“Well, I can do part of that. Ya know the virus I was telling you about, Sis? The one I buried in Sirlo’s computer systems? I think I developed a correction worm for it. The problem is, how do I get it into their computers to test it? Gettin’ the virus there was easy. Tom let me into the offices late at night. Gettin’ the antidote in will be much harder.”

“Not necessarily, Runt. Angelina Delgado, Whitey Fuller’s girlfriend, has a cousin who’s a night janitor at Sirlo’s.”

“Well, let’s go!”

“Slow down. We have to set this all up first. And what happens if the cure doesn’t do the job? Plus the worm is only half the problem. Sirlo junior will still be out to get you.”

“God, it has to work. If not, I’ll keep on trying until I get it right. I developed it. I can kill it. I know I can…at least with a little time. As for Tom, I don’t know what to do about him. I just don’t know. After watching him set fire to my place, I know he’s dangerous but I don’t really know how dangerous.”

“Oh, he’s dangerous, all right. Tom or one of his goons killed Sloppy.” I could have gone my whole life without telling my brother that.

Runt just stared at me. “And whoever killed Sloppy also grabbed me,” I continued. “He would have hurt me more if Shade hadn’t come up on us. The guy was trying to get me to tell him where you were. At the time I didn’t know anything. He could have hurt me all he wanted to and I couldn’t have told him a thing.”

Runt still hadn’t said anything. Sad faced, he turned to his horse stalls and went down the row petting each horse. Finally, he turned back to Casey and me.

“You all right?” he asked me.

“Yeah. He just stretched my neck a little. Got Shade with a couple of punches but Shade got him back too.”

Runt shook his head slowly. “I’m a big baboon, Sis. When I get out of this, I’m going to get a job digging ditches and never touch another computer again.”

I laughed at the thought. “How many times have you told Mom that?”

A delightful spark came into Runt’s eyes, then quickly faded. “I don’t want you and Casey wandering around the countryside alone. You could get hurt. These men are armed and dangerous.”

“So am I,” said Casey. Runt and I both looked at her. “Well, armed anyway.” She pulled up her jean leg. What was it with all these boot holsters? “I took that concealed weapons course so I’m licensed to carry.”

“Well, that’s something, anyway. I still don’t want you two running around alone.”

“You mean without a man,” Casey said.

Runt laughed. “You got it. I’m going to turn my cell on for the rest of the day. Call me when you contact Angelina’s cousin. I can be ready whenever. Go back to my house the way you came. And be careful. Then go home, you two. All of us being here on The Barely Legal makes me nervous. Somebody’s been coming around everyday and checking the house and another guy comes and feeds the horses.”

“Well, I know where the second man is from. Shade arranged to have the horses taken care of. Don’t worry about that guy,” I said. “But I don’t know about the first one. You be careful yourself.” I hugged Runt goodbye and Casey and I started back to the house.

“Like hell we need a man ─ well, except for Runt and Ralph,” Casey said when we were halfway to the house.

“I was hoping you’d think that way. I don’t have much of nothing to lose but you’ve got a job to protect. And a husband, children, and a dog.”

“And a new cat. So what’s your point?”

“Point? Me? My mom always said it wasn’t nice to point. But right now, I’m not feeling very nice. I’m calling Angelina.”

“I’ve got your back, Sista,” Casey said. We both opened our cell phones and punched speed dial buttons. She started arguing with Ralph about spending the night with me. I almost gagged when she told him I was hung up on Shade and needed a shoulder to lean on.

I called Angelina and told her I’d take her up on the offer of her cousin’s help ─ if her cousin was willing. “Don’t tell Whitey, though,” I cautioned. I didn’t want Shade getting wind of this or I might be placed in chains in his basement. Figuratively speaking, of course. Central Texas doesn’t have many basements.

Ten minutes later my phone rang. “It is I, Angelina,” she said in that funny way of hers. “Consuelo is working tonight, then she is off for four days.”

“That’s great,” I said. “Runt said he could be ready anytime. Tell Consuelo to meet us at the company docks at two tonight…well, two in the morning. You’re an angel, Angelina.”

“Wear work clothes,” Angelina reminded me. “People still working in middle of night sometimes.”

Yeah. Probably Tom and his cronies stealing his dad’s company’s assets. Casey was still arguing with Ralph so I called Runt.

“We’re on for tonight,” I reported. “I hope you weren’t bullshitting me about being ready to go into Sirlo’s.”

“Like I told you, Sis, I’m ready to go. I’ve got to get this mess straightened out. What time and where?”

“One-thirty behind Spur’s Country Store. We’ll be in the Mustang.”

“Got it,” He said and he hung up. Casey hung up too.

“I’m in,” she said. “Ralph’s not happy but I’m in all the way…to a point.”

“We need work clothes,” I told Casey, “so let’s hit the junk stores.”

But as we thumbed through the used clothing, I had a change of heart. “Casey, let me and Runt handle this. You shouldn’t be anywhere near something like this.”

“Are you kidding?” she said. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything. My life’s been too pure since I married Ralph. I miss the hell-raising the three of us girls used to get into. Besides, it’s only borderline illegal. If we get caught, we aren’t breaking and entering. We’re helping our cleaning lady friend who let us in.”

I blew air past my lips. I couldn’t disagree with her logic. We’d only be on the edge of law and order, a place I’m used to, but Casey hadn’t been there much. She might find it an uncomfortable place to be.

After the thrift store, we had time to kill so we hopped over to the hair and nail spa. As cleaning ladies, we wouldn’t need pedicures and fills for our acrylic nails but it would be fun and I needed a new paint job anyway.

“Think we have time for me to get a haircut?” Casey asked.

“We got time for that and more. Don’t you want to have my man cut your hair?”

“You still go to Mr. Ricky?”

“Yeah, but I meant my other man. Shade. He cut my hair last. Good job, don’t ya think?”

”Oh, baby. I’m a married woman. I don’t want to get close to that heat source and risk a singed chocha, no matter how good a haircut he gives. How would I ever explain that to Ralph?”

We both laughed as the beautician pumped Casey’s chair higher.

“I bet Shade’s livid right now, wondering where I’m at and what I’m doing.”

Casey just lifted her eyebrows as the beautician clipped and snipped.

“Shade’s been Shade so long I can’t remember how he even got that nickname,” Casey said.

“Me neither. I remember his other nickname, though ─ Fartguts.”

Casey laughed. “Wow. I’m getting old. I even forgot that one.”

The beautician spoke up with a knowing smile. “I remember how he got the nickname Shade.” Two other beauticians moved a little closer to Casey’s chair. Shade was a popular subject matter, apparently, and I couldn’t help but wonder how many times he’d been the hot topic in this salon and others around town.

“My daddy,” the hairdresser informed us, “worked for Shade’s daddy when he managed Goodwin’s Ranch. All the cowboys thought Fergus was a horrible name for a little kid. Such a tough little boy with such a sissy name. I think it was his grandpa’s name on his mother’s side.” She spritzed some foam on her palms and rubbed it into Casey’s hair.

A nail customer joined us, blowing on her nails and listening intently with the rest of us. I gave myself a nose wrinkle. I knew every woman in town was in love with Shade and this conversation confirmed it.

“Anyway, the cowboys started calling him Shadow because he always hung ‘round ’em, learnin’ all he could about cowboyin’.”

“I guess I don’t remember that,” the nail patron commented. “When’d he become Shade?”

This was downright funny but I’d never tell Shade. His ego was big enough.

“Hmmm. Probably in junior high. Yeah, about that time,” the hairdresser continued. “He started riding bulls and ropin’ in the Little Britches Rodeos. He got so good at rodeoin’ that the cowboys started saying they were standin’ in his shade, instead of him being their shadow. So they started callin’ him Shade. I remember him being a cocky, good looking little shit even then.

“He’s never come in here to get his hair cut. It’s so long and pretty.”

Oh, good Lord. The man’s going bald. I wondered if I should bust these ladies’ bubble and tell what I know?

The hairdresser gave a little sigh. “You could cover me with Shade anytime.”

“Sorry,” said Casey, pulling money out of her wallet and handing it to the hairdresser, “but my girlfriend here seems to have all his attention right now.”

“Really? You look too old for him…I…I…didn’t mean that the way it came out. Sorry. It’s just that he usually dates girls so young…I mean…he’s so….”

“Never mind,” Casey said, as she reached out and retrieved a dollar of the hairdresser’s tip money. “A word of advice. After you’ve got the tip, shut your mouth.”

“The man’s going bald, for goodness sakes,” I said as we walked out the door. I had to tell somebody! “And he’s not that young. Come on. I need a margarita.”

We jumped into the Mustang and were half way to our favorite Mexican food place when we passed the Texas Way poker room.

Dante’s work truck was in the lot.

To be continued Monday.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Twelve

2009-04-15T02:35:00.000-05:00

UPDATE: Some time ago, when I was writing SHUFFLE, I submitted the words “poker folker” to Urban Dictionary. They rejected it. Tonight, as I sat at my computer getting Chapter Twelve ready to publish tomorrow, I got word from that web site that they have published my words. I invented a phrase! I’m so excited! Click here and give my words a thumbs up.

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=poker+folker.

“Ca-rap,” I said to Casey. “I’ve been trying to track down Dante for weeks and tonight of all nights he pops up right in front of me. He owes me money big time.”

I turned the Mustang into the lot as Casey started sputtering and protesting. “What…wait…what are you doing? I can’t go in there.”

“I’ve text messaged him to death!” I continued, pretending I hadn’t heard her. “That dern guy isn’t coming through with anything. Not even so much as a courtesy call. The jerk!”

“I’m not going in there!” Casey said.

“I know. I know. Let me just make a phone call.” I dialed up the owner of the room. “Moss, this is T.R. Is Dante Castaneda winning or losing?”

“Hey, T.R., Ya know, I just don’t get to see enough of you. You need to come over and work for me. We need a good looking gal over here at Texas Way.”

“Moss, you big flirt. You know your wife wouldn’t allow a woman dealer in there. So how’s Castaneda doing? He up or down?”

“Well, I’m trying to see. It looks like he’s up to me. Why you want to know?”

“I got an H.C. on him and I think I’ll come in and bluff it out of him. That OK with you?

“Honey, any night I get to see you, is a good night for me. Come on in.”

“Don’t make me call your wife, Moss,” I said, laughing. “See ya in a sec. I’m out in your parking lot.” I turned back to Casey as I tucked my phone away.

“H.C.?” she asked.

“Hot check. Listen. I know you can’t come with,” I said, chopping the sentence short, “and I’m kind of skipping out on Margaritas, but I really need to settle this with Dante. Can you come back and get me in a half hour or so?”

“Well, I do need to go to the grocery store. I was going to go in the morning but I could do it now, I guess. It’ll take me closer to an hour, though, to shop and then lug it home. Plus I’ll have to think of something to tell Ralph. Girl’s night out doesn’t usually include grocery shopping.”

“True story,” I laughed. “An hour’s cool. You’re the best. Ring me when you’re on your way back.” I hauled my phone out again and switched it from vibrate to ring. I didn’t want to miss her call in the ensuing excitement ─ or disappointment.

I jumped out of the car before she could change her mind and Casey took over the driver’s seat. Going to the grocery store was the last thing I ever wanted to do ─ unless it’s for beer and chips.

I stood at the door of Texas Way and gave a little wave. I knew Moss was watching on the closed circuit TV. Sure enough, the magnetic lock buzzed and I walked right in.

Since dealers like to face the door, Dante had his back to the poker room entrance. Moss was standing off to one side talking to a regular. He smiled at me, still talking, and pointed in Dante’s direction. Like I wouldn’t know the backside of that man.

A couple of players looked my way, ready to speak, but I placed a finger to my lips and pointed at Dante’s back. Everyone immediately shifted their focus back to their poker tables as if I wasn’t there.

Dante was straddling his chair, its back up against the table, his boot toes wrapped around its back legs. Sunglasses hung by one of its arms from the back of his shirt collar. The bill of a maroon A&M baseball cap was crammed down the butt of his jeans, leaving the crown to bloom like a flower at the small of his back. A rear pants pocket bore the worn circular imprint of a chewing tobacco tin.

If all that wasn’t a dead give-a-way to who was sitting in that chair, the early-onset salt and pepper mop of hair ID’d him better than a driver’s license.

The seat next to Dante was empty. I knew I had Moss to thank for that. Dealers and game runners have to stick together on this H.C. stuff. Dante had a load of chips in the pot so I knew I was safe slipping into the vacant chair. He wasn’t going to get up and walk out on a potentially winning hand.

Dante glanced my way, looked back at the pot, then quickly swung his face my way again.

“Well, hey, T.R,” he said as he leaned over and kissed me quick on the mouth. “I figured you’d be with Shade.” I though I detected more than a little jealousy.

Half the men at the table started talking at once, asking about Mother’s wig and Sloppy.

“Greetings, everybody. Where do y’all get your information? Sounds like you don’t need me to tell ya. You already know it all.” I ran my freshly done nails back and forth across Dante’s shoulders.

“True story,” one of the players said as everyone laughed. Dante was looking a little pale.

“Guys,” I said, “I want to sit in on a little poker while my girlfriend does domestic duty.” A couple of players snickered, thinking the worst. I didn’t bother to correct them and say it was grocery shopping. Let them have their fantasies.

“Anybody care if Dante slips me a couple of chips?” I asked, adhering to the unwritten rule that a player can’t take chips off the table unless they’re leaving the game. They can, however, pass them to another player, provided no one at the table has a problem with the move.

A few guys nodded their heads, giving me the OK. Since Dante had more chips in front of him than anyone else did, the players at the table were probably happy to see somebody take them away from him, even though it wasn’t through gambling.

“Maybe Dante cares,” Dante said.

“He don’t care, T.R.,” a guy I didn’t recognize said. “Take as much as you like. Your pretty face is a much better sight to play against than his ugly mug.”

Someone across the room laughed out loud and commented, “That’s for sure.”

I reached over and pulled $500 from Dante’s pile into my own chip area.

“Thanks, guys, don’t mind if I do.” I smiled, looking straight at Dante, just waiting for him to protest again. It was a little more than I’d first thought of taking but I figured I’d better get as much as I could. With all the guys paying attention now, I didn’t expect Dante to object and I was right. He watched me sort the chips that used to be his. He wasn’t smiling but he wasn’t mad either.

I planned to pretty much just look at my cards and fold for a couple of hands, unless I got monsters. I’d have to play those. Then, hopefully, I’d get a good hand or I’d play a whopping bluff.

I was just aiming to get my money for his hot check back into my budget, nothing more. Win or lose, Dante still owed me. The five hundred he passed me still left a thousand due me. If I won with his money, all the better. Nothing like double dipping.

My first hand didn’t thrill me. King nine off suit wasn’t worth the blind so I folded. My second hand, however, was another story. King, ten of spades ─ my favorite hand. I’ve been real lucky with those cards in the past.

I called the twenty bet to see the flop. Even though I love this hand, if it doesn’t hit on the flop, I always fold. I won’t chase good cards, even with my favorite hand. I’m a tight player.

Bless me and my luck. The flop came king, king, ten. I’d flopped a boat! No wonder it’s my favorite.

Not only was it a family pot, meaning no one at the table had folded yet, but the player in the first position was betting my hand for me. Dern right, I’m going to call that bet. I just wished it was Dante betting in the first position.

I was excited but I doubt it showed on the outside. Shade doesn’t call me Pokerface for nothing. Half the table ─ including Dante, which was disappointing ─ folded but there were still five of us left in the hand. That made for a six hundred and sixty dollar pot and we hadn’t even seen the turn card. It came up a blank for me but the first position kept betting. By the time we got to the river card, it was just him and me with one thousand and sixty in the pot.

“I guess we’re gonna chop,” I told him, as I called his last bet. “You’ve been bettin’ it all the way.” The guy gave me a look that said women shouldn’t play poker and they definitely shouldn’t know the terminology.

As I turned my cards over, I looked around the table at the guys so I could watch their reaction. Whoops erupted when they saw my full house. Even Dante had a big smile on his face. The guy who’d been doing all the betting threw his cards into the muck in disgust.

A player who’d folded before the river asked the dealer to expose the man’s hand. Any player in the hand can request to see a folded hand. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes a player wants to know what kind of hands a guy’s betting if they don’t reveal their cards very often.

As it turned out, the guy I beat out had tens full of kings to my kings full of tens. A good hand. I would have bet it heavy too. It just wasn’t as good as my hand.

So much for a chop. After I tipped the dealer four redbirds, I had over fourteen hundred dollars in front of me. Go figure.

“You got lucky,” Dante said, giving my knee a little pat.

“Lucky?” I asked as I raised an eyebrow. “Skill,” I stated.

But the thought flitted through my head that I should stop while I was ahead, but a big stand like I was planning offered fringe benefits. If I won, Dante would feel I’d always be willing to put it everything on the line to win and win big, no matter if the “everything” was chips, love, or revenge.

Plus word gets around. If I won another big hand, poker players all over town would think twice before they bluffed against me or wrote me hot checks. I’d certainly get my fifteen minutes of fame. OK, maybe the fame would be a little longer than that. The guys who got beat would be talking about it for a long, long, long, long time.

But I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. First I had to win with a big stand and it was taking a little longer than I had anticipated. I had a time limit.

The blinds for the fourth hands were posted. If everything went well, this would be my hand for revenge. The last hand had been great but it wasn’t a win over Dante and he was my adversary. The other gamblers were just pot-feeders.

Tension must have been in the air because a couple of players stood up and backed away from the table. They didn’t go far. They wanted to watch the action. They just didn’t want to be in that action.

The dealer pitched the hole cards and I found myself with an eight of diamonds and an eight of hearts. It was a good start.

Several guys folded before they had to act. A guy I didn’t know, Seat Two, bet fifty and a man named Sammie called and plunked down his chips.

The guy I’d beaten with the king-ten called and so did I. I wanted to see if Dante would raise. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I exhaled loudly after he called. So much for the poker face of a professional.

To my amazement, the flop was the six of hearts, eight of spades, and ten of hearts. I had a set of eights, two in my hand and one on the board. The flop, good for me, was, hopefully, bad for Dante.

The flop was only ten high but two hearts were showing, fuel for someone to have a straight or a flush, both of which would beat my set. I sure hoped those guys weren’t calling fifty dollars with a seven-nine or some such junk in their trunk. At least I didn’t have to worry about a straight flush like the other players did. I had the blocker for that ─ the necessary eight of hearts.

Other hands could win the pot but the worse possibility for me was a set of tens which would beat my set of eights. Called a set-over-set, hands don’t get much unluckier than that. It just downright demoralizes a player to lose like that.

I checked my set. Dante bet fifty. Seat Two raised another two hundred. Sammie folded and Mr. Tens Full of Kings called. I called the two hundred and fifty. Dante immediately pushed four hundred towards the pot.

Wow, he called the raise and went over the top. I wondered what the heck he had. He hadn’t hesitated on the reraise.

Both men were leaning forward aggressively. That could be a tell indicating they had strong hands and the flop had been good to them. On the other hand, it could be their testosterone acting up.

After the first peek at my hole cards, I placed a small stack of chips on them and begin riffling another stack. I didn’t look at my hole cards again. I’d seen them and they weren’t going to change.

Seat Two called Dante’s raise. Mr. Tens Full called. I hadn’t hesitated when I called the first reraise, so I decided to stir things up. I immediately reraised another two hundred.

With his mouth agape, Dante paused, then closed his mouth and pushed his chips into the pot. The dealer rolled his eyes at our craziness. Seat Two called my raise and that ran off Mr. Tens Full.

“Man, what are you thinking?” Sammie asked Mr. Tens Full. “All that money in the pot and you can’t call another two hundred dollars? You ain’t gonna get better pot odds that that.”

Ten Full just shook his head and leaned back in his chair. The three remaining players, me, Dante, and Seat Two, all seemed to have something we were proud of which made the hand kind of scary. But I came here to win big with the cards I’d been dealt or win big with a good bluff. Dante and Seat Two had to be wondering what I had, just like I was wondering about them.

Two thousand, six hundred and fifty dollars in the pot. A very good pot, not only for a Monday evening but for this particular poker room. These men weren’t Whitey’s high-dollar crowd. The gamblers here were working men, hard working and hard playing men.

The dealer flipped the turn card: an ace of hearts. “Action’s on you,” the dealer said to Seat Two.

The ace was bad. If it was just Dante and I, I’d feel better but Seat Two had me worried. Not to mention there were too many hearts showing to be comfortable. If three of a suit are showing on the board, a player has to assume a flush is hiding in someone’s hand. And I knew it wasn’t in mine.

I checked. Dante bet two hundred. I felt sure I could beat one of the men but I doubted I could beat them both. I caught myself holding my breath again, waiting for Seat Two to act. Me, who never has a tell. Go figure.

There wasn’t another game going on in the room. All of the poker folker were gathered around our table, trying to see at least one of the player’s hole cards, but none of us were peeking at them.

I knew Moss was behind me. I didn’t dare turn to see the look Dante’s face. I was the only woman in this gamblers den and suddenly I felt very lonely.

The dealer repeated himself, telling Seat Two again that the action was on him. The gambler’s hesitation could be a tell ─ or it could be bait. We only had one card to go. He could have a monster and be trying to suck all the money on the table into the pot. Or he could have come too far to fold.

Electricity tingled through me as he did just that. Seat Two folded.

I couldn’t believe it. In his position I would never have folded. His money had already been spent. What’s a couple of more chips to see the last card?

I breathed again. Relief had to show all over my body. Only Dante and I were left in the game.

Just what I had wanted.

Two men who had been sitting at our table earlier were right at our elbows, thinking, of course, how they could still be in there winning it all. Dante and I weren’t sweating but several of the men around the table were. Pots and plays like this one don’t come around every day. Or every month, for that matter. It was exactly the game I’d been hoping for.

“Heard you’ve been trying to get aholt of me, Tana.” Dante said, putting the emphasis on the last syllable of my name. He was adding pressure, not taking any off.

“Yeah, Dante.” I said, heavily pronouncing the te. “Seems we have a little unfinished business.” Small talk during a hand usually isn’t my game but there were just the two of us now.

“Well, I heard Shade moved in on ya. Didn’t think you’d be interested in little ol’ me anymore.”

“Who said I was ever interested in you, Dant?”

A couple of spectators hooted. I didn’t know if it was because of my comment or because of my pet name for Dante that caused the reaction.

I gave him my sweetest smile, one I saved for special moments. He’d seen it before.

“I hate to bring this up in front of everyone,” I said, “but I have a hot little piece of paper with your name on it that I want to trade out with you for some cool cash. It’s just a little too hot for me to handle and you’ve been hard to locate lately.”
A few of the guys watching the play unfold snickered under their breath.

“Ah, shucks. And I thought it was me that was too hot for you to handle. That’s why you had to step down to a less combustible sort of man in your life.”

Ego talker! Wisecracks from the gawkers agreed with my opinion of Dante.

“I call,” I said, sliding my chips towards the monster pot. Three thousand fifty dollars, minus the house rake. I could only hope my hand would hold up.

The dealer tipped over the river card. A ten of spades.

Dante hesitated slightly. I couldn’t tell if the pause was caused by our conversation or the cards. He tossed two hundred into the pot. I was convinced he had a set of sixes. Dante may play loose, but I couldn’t imagine him betting so much on a flush draw.

I hesitated ─ a planned hesitation. Would he think I was worried about my hand? His hand? Him? Or all of the above?

I tossed in my own two hundred. My pretty stack of chippies had dwindled down to three hundred and forty dollars. What did I care? I was playing with his money anyway.

What the hell! I pushed all three hundred and forty into the pot. The room hummed around us.

Dante called. A murmur spread over the poker folker like the wave at a football game. Pots this high were rare, even at Whitey’s.

A trickle of sweat dribbled down between my breasts, another down the small of my back. Dante finally had little beads of perspiration at his temples. It wasn’t the biggest pot either of us had ever played but we both felt the intense emotional pressure of this hand.

Eye contact ruled. The room was extremely quiet.

My phone rang.

Damn! I prayed it wasn’t Runt or Shade. Either of them would be a bucket of ice water on this hand. But I’m a gambler. I hit the speaker button without taking my gaze from Dante’s face.

“Hey,” I said.

“T.R., I’m outside,” Casey said.

“Right. Give me a minute.” I pushed the call end button.

Dante raised an eyebrow at me.

“Dante. What ya got?” the dealer asked.

Dante smiled at me. Just as I thought, he showed a set of sixes, a winner in any other hand.

I turned up my eights. Set-over-set and I had the higher set. Poker folker expelled their collective breath.

“Eights wins,” the dealer called.

Dante and I were stilled locked in an eye hold. He shook his head and gave me a sweet smile.

“Hate to win and run, Dant,” I said, raking in my chips. “But my ride’s waiting outside.”

Moss handed me three empty racks. As I reached into my bag for the hot check, Sammie started stacking my chips. “Don’t forget about this,” I said to Dante. “You still own me a thousand. Tonight you just bought yourself a little time. No hard feelings. See you around.”

I grabbed the racks and walked away.

“T.R.,” he called after me. I turned to look back at him. His fingers pushed through his thick, beautiful hair. “Good play. I won’t forget. No hard feeling here either ─ well, at least none about the poker loss.”

He gave me a coy little half-grin at the double entendre. “If Shade don’t mind, I’ll call you.”

I gave him my special smile again. “You do that.” After all, there really wasn’t anything between me and Shade.

I cashed out with Moss. He leaned in to me. “Way to go, T.R. About that dealin’ job I offered ya on the phone….”

I laughed and shook my head no.

“You certainly class up the joint.”

I laughed again at that one. Me? Class up a joint? It’d have to be a pretty low class joint to start with for me to add class to it!

“Then how about doing a little debt collection for me?” Moss smiled at me, then winked. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Moss! You’re married! If I’ve told you boys once, I’ve told you a million times. I don’t do married.”

“Damn, girl. I may be married but I’m not dead. Can’t blame a guy for tryin’.”

I laughed again and started to walk away. Talk in the poker room was returning to normal.

“Wait up, T.R.,” Dante called after me. “I’ll walk you out. Play a few hands without me, boys.”

Moss buzzed the lock and Dante and I walked out the door. No lights marked the card room entrance so except for Casey watching from the car, we had privacy provided by the early evening veil of darkness.

“What’s up with you and Shade?” Dante asked again.

“What’s up with you writing me a hot check?” I replied. “The way I hear it, you’ve got a couple of them around town. If you’re not careful, you’re going to write one to the wrong person and get your ass kicked.”

Dante smiled and leaned in for a quick mouth kiss but I turned my face away. “O-o-oh, T.R., you know I would have made it good eventually.”

“Yeah? Before or after you won the lottery?” I turned to walk away.

“Now, T.R.! Don’t be that way. A couple of big accounts went slow-pay on me and I jumped the gun on their checks’ arrival dates, that’s all. I’m gettin’ it straightened out.”

Dante grabbed my shirt sleeve and pulled me back. He took hold of my arms and placed them around his waist. I didn’t resist. I don’t even know if I could have resisted. His big calloused hands went to the back of my neck where his fingers laced together in my hair. He used his thumbs on my jaw bones to direct my face to his and tried to kiss me again. This time I let him connect.

The kiss was long, hard, and hurtful to the point of pleasure.

God knew what he was doing when he placed noses above the lips. A kiss is so much better when the kissee smelled as good as Dante smelled. As the kissor, I knew that for a fact.

Casey tooted the horn on the Mustang.

Bitch.

It took effort but I pulled away from Dante. “I got to go,” I said, but I was thinking about my chocha. It hadn’t caught fire. It hadn’t even glowed. It might have smoldered a bit though. I mean, the man can kiss! But he wasn’t Shade…or rather his kiss wasn’t what I thought ─ and what Casey had promised me ─ the Shade-kiss would be.

I turned away from Dante again and this time he let me go.

“What was that all about?” Casey asked accusingly when I got into the Mustang.

“What? That kiss? Nothing really.”

“Nothing, my you-know-what! What about Shade?” she asked.

“What about Shade?” I replied. “It’s not like Shade’s really kissed me in what…five or six years? And who are you to ask, Miss Two-Dates-in-One-Night-in-High-School?”

“OK, I concede that point. But Dante wrote you a hot check, a very big hot check.”

“Yeah, but he’s a very hot man. Not as hot as Shade, of course, but hot, nevertheless.” We were at a stop light and Casey looked towards me.

“At least I know how Dante feels about me,” I told her. “With Shade?” I shrugged my shoulders. “Who knows? And ca-rap, Shade can have any woman, any age he wants! Every woman in Texas wants Shade and probably lots of them in Louisiana, New Mexico, and Colorado too. Why would he pick me?” I reasoned. “And at least I don’t feel too old to date Dant,” I mumbled, thinking of his salt and pepper hair. “In fact, after that kiss I don’t feel old at all!”

“Jeezs, you single girls and your problems!” the old married lady said.

“Plus I got my money back. With interest. Dinner’s my treat.”

Yup, after that win and that kiss I definitely didn’t feel old anymore. That combustible chocha stuff was probably an urban myth anyway.

To be continued Friday.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Thirteen

2009-04-15T02:20:00.000-05:00

(Posted early just for Meb)

My cell rang again. It was Shade.

I didn’t know how to handle this call. After my big poker stand and Dant's kiss, my mind was whirling faster than a Texas tornado but I knew I had to answer the phone. To let it go to voice mail would be the same as calling out the militia. I had no doubt Shade and an army of cowboys would find us and put an end to Casey and T.R.’s Excellent Adventure.

I didn’t have to worry about my end of the conversation, though. Shade started talking right after I answered the call with my usual “Hey.”

“Why did you leave the ranch? I can protect you here, Tana Rose. You don’t know what or who’s waiting to get you out there. Stay right where you are and I’ll come get you.” He paused and took a breath. “Ah…where are you?”

“Take it easy, Shade. I’m with Casey and we’re fine. We’re just having a girl’s night out. We got our nails done and now we’re headed to the movies.” I knew better than to mention being at Texas Way, although I also knew he’d hear about it sooner or later.

I held the phone away from my ear, afraid of the explosion about to happen on the other end of the line. Instead, there was complete silence. Did we get disconnected, I wondered? I hate talking to dead air space! “Are you still there?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m here. I’m not happy but I’m here. You’re crazy to pick tonight of all nights for girl talk. Tell me where you are and I’ll come escort you.”

“With you here it wouldn’t be a girl’s night out, now would it? It’d be…a threesome.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad either, although I think Ralph might have something to say about that. Seriously, you should have a man with you.”

Didn’t I hear Runt say the same thing but in a different way a little while ago? Don’t men think we woman can take care of ourselves? He should have seen me at Texas Way. I ruled! Of course, there weren’t any guns pointing at me or men in black jumping out of nowhere to get me.

“Clyde come in?” I asked to change the subject, but also because I wanted to know.

“Yeah, but we can’t get a hold of Runt. We’re stuck here at the house waiting to hear from him by computer or phone.”

No wonder Shade was in such a bad mood. He couldn’t get a hold of Runt and I wasn’t available to tease and torment. No, he was not a happy man.

“Listen, the show’s going to start any minute. I’ve got to go.”

“Which movie you goin to?” he asked casually.

I wasn’t falling for that. “Gotta go!”

“You come back to the ranch when the movie’s over and your evening’s done!” The words all ran together so he could get it all in before I hung up.

“Well, Shade, I don’t know when done will be,” I drawled. “As for sleeping arrangements, you should have taken me up on my offer earlier today when I wanted to make plans for tonight.” I clicked the phone closed, feeling very pleased with myself.

Casey shook her head at me as so we continued to the movie house. The show could have been Oscar great, I don’t know because I couldn’t concentrate on it. My mind was a mess, thinking about the three men in my life ─ Runt, Dante, and Shade ─ and about sneaking into Sirlo’s later. The whole situation was pregnant with scary complications, starting with Angelina’s cousin Consuelo.

I didn’t know who all was in on this blackmail-slash-takeover scheme. It could be anyone from janitorial staff on up. But Consuelo was a relative of a good friend. I had to trust somebody in order for Runt and I to start straightening this mess out.

Supper was a quiet time, especially for two talkers like Casey and me. I had a margarita with my meal so dinnertime wasn’t a complete waste. After a time-killing drive around the city, we pulled up behind Spur’s right on time. As I cut the car lights and engine, Runt walked out of the trees.

This time there weren’t any hugs or greetings. We were somber as we divvied up the janitorial outfits and put them on over our regular clothes. The three of us then climbed back into the Mustang, Casey in the back seat.

“Shade couldn’t make it?” Runt asked, looking into the back seat.

“Ah…nope,” I said. Lying comes easy with practice and lying by omission is easiest of all. Casey gave me a confused look in the rearview mirror but I ignored her and started driving. We didn’t have far to go.

I stopped the car in the street at the back of Sirlo’s building. The place was lit up like the local Cow Palace nightclub.

”Damn,” said Casey. “No sneaking in with all those lights on, that’s for sure.”

I nodded my head in agreement. “Not too late to back out, Casey,” I said, still trying to keep her out of any possible trouble. She just shot me a look.

“It’s too late for me,” Runt said. “I have to do this.”

“All right, then,” I said, taking my foot off the brake and letting the Mustang roll into the lot. I parked near the dock entrance. Straightening my shoulders, I opened the car door and climbed out. Casey got out on Runt’s side and they walked around the Mustang to me.

“It’s a go, I guess,” I said. I didn’t move.

“Right. I’m ready,” Casey said. She didn’t move either.

Runt put his hands on the small of our backs. “Then let’s do it,” he said. “Quoting somebody famous, ‘We have nothing to fear but fear itself.’ ”

“And guns,” I said, taking a small step.

“And knives,” said Casey. I started to turn back to the car but Runt gave me a slight push forward. We walked up the dock’s steps and through the door.

Consuelo was down the hall.

“People here,” she said quietly, as she turned the cleaning cart over to Runt. “You push this. We’ll clean for a little bit near where they are and they will probably leave. I hope.”

Consuelo reached into her back pocket and pulled out two dust masks. She gave one to Runt and one to me, but I handed mine off to Casey. I looked at Runt. With the mask, his newly-shaved head, and his dark tan, he didn’t look anything like his old self.

Nobody would be expecting Casey here but the mask gave her an extra measure of security. The worn, paint splotched, thrift store clothes added a touch of experience to their janitorial act.

Me? Only poker players would recognize me but just in case, I spritzed my head with piney-smelling water from a cleaning spray bottle and flattened my spiky hair.

Consuelo started us cleaning the first office on the right. We didn’t mind the dusting and vacuuming. Consuelo might as well get a little work out of us in return for the favor of sneaking us in.

Walking back into the hall, she stopped by Runt’s cart and turned on the radio. Loud Latino music rocked Sirlo’s world. Consuelo smiled at us and turned on a big floor polisher.

A door opened down the way and a man yelled out. “Turn off that blasted music. That damn floor polisher is bad enough!”

Consuelo looked up innocently. “No habla Ingles, señor,” she said, and kept polishing. I was beginning to realize what a gutsy gal she was.

The door slammed shut. Consuelo looked at us and jerked her head in a come-this-way motion. We walked out of the office and paused in front of the door to the next one. She jerked her head again, drawing the three of us farther down the hall. She jerked her head at us until we were all outside the targeted office. Consuelo opened the door.

“Señor?” Consuelo said, and waved her hand around the room and then out at us in the hall. “Excusa, por favor?”

“Crap, go away,” one of the men said. I made sure I didn’t look either of them in the face.

“Excusa, por favor?” Consuelo pushed.

“Damn, Eddy,” one man said. “We might as well let them clean. I can’t make heads or tails out of what that bastard did or didn’t do to the system! We’ve got to get him over here again. Damn!”

Eddy got up from his chair and stretched. “Up to you. I’d like a beer and somethin’ to eat anyway.”

“OK, let’s go. The noise is drivin’ me crazy.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end in spite of the spritzed-on cleaning solution. The second man sounded like the guy who grabbed me the other night and killed Sloppy. I needed to hear him speak again but that could wait. Runt needed to get into that office and putter with the ‘puter.

Casey, Runt, and I all stood there like we didn’t know or care what they were talking about. I had my eyes focused on my toes.

“Excusa?” Consuelo pushed again, acting like she didn’t know what they were saying. Damn that woman had balls!

“Screw you!” Tom said and both men left the room. I watched them walk down the hall and get into the elevator. As the doors closed, one of the men turned and looked me right in the eyes. Damn, it was the Stalkin’ Starer! I quickly looked away.

Consuelo turned the polisher on again as the three of us went into the targeted office. Runt quickly sat down at the computer, slipped a disk out of his shirt, and went to work. With Consuelo in the hall, I relaxed and watched Runt type on the keyboard.

A couple of cleaning people came to talk to Consuelo. She leaned into the office. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said, then disappeared towards the back of the building.

“The virus antidote is loading,” Runt said. “I can test it in a minute.”

Runt typed out some more stuff on the keyboard and sat there waiting. I heard the elevator door opened again and stepped out of the office, expecting to see Consuelo.

It was the Stalkin’ Starer. The other guy was right beside him. “I knew that was her!” Stalkin’ Starer roared when he saw me standing in the hall.

“Damn it,” Runt bellowed, as he realized what was happening. I scooted out the office, pulling the door shut. I heard the door lock behind me. Well, I thought, that will help Casey and Runt for thirty seconds or so.

I started running for the stairwell sign at the opposite end of the hall. I needed to draw these men away from Runt and Casey.

Up the stairs or down? My guess was they’d expect me to go down so I took the stairs up, two at a time. That was a plan I didn’t think through enough.

I boomed through the doors onto the third floor. Consuelo and the other two cleaning guys were on their hands and knees in the middle of the hall. They stood up as I raced towards them.

“Ca-rap!” I said to Consuelo as I passed her. “Ca-rap!” I said again, more to myself than anybody else. I knew more words but that one seemed to say it all.

“That way! That way! More stairs. Next floor! Construction! Hiding places!” Consuelo’s voice rat-tat-tatted the information to me like a bullets from a glock. I glanced back and saw her and the guys kneel down again and concentrate on scraping off some kind of mess. It was like nothing else mattered in their lives except that single, dirty spot.

I found the stairway and raced up another floor. Behind me I heard the door on the third floor boom open, then lots of yelling in English and Spanish. I could only imagine the plucky Consuelo, with that innocent, bewildered look. A real poker face, that one.

The forth floor housed a lot of junk but I couldn’t see any hiding places that a kindergartener wouldn’t have been able to immediately spot. Big empty cans waited to be carted downstairs to the trash. Sheetrock was stacked as high as my waist. Old ceiling tiles were scattered all around. Tools, large and small, cluttered the floor. Not the hiding haven I’d hoped for.

I was trapped. A big voice in my head told me I should have gone down the stairs instead of up! Now it comes to that conclusion!

Quit shaking and think like a poker player, I ordered myself. Count your outs! But another look around the room convinced me I had no outs. I couldn’t even check. Where the hell’s an ace in the hole when you….

Oh. A hole. Otherwise known as a circulation vent. The opening measured at least two feet by three feet and was located on the wall just above the floor. Its freshly painted cover was propped on boxes nearby.

I scurried over to the vent and stabbed my head into the hole. The shaft appeared to drop straight down. Straight down!

I yanked off an earring and flung it in the vent. It clattered off the sides and bounced around, the sound growing fainter and fainter but convincing me the shaft wasn’t exactly straight down. And I didn’t hear any grinding noises when it hit bottom. Just the slight tinkle of jewelry hitting cement.

The commotion in the stairwell grew louder and closer. I decided it was play the hand I had dealt myself or fold. Of course I’d play!

I climbed into the vent and extended my legs out to touch both sides. My fingertips gripped the edge of the hole. With the help of my butt, I suspended myself over the dark downward tunnel as best I could. I needed soles made of rubber for this instead of my slick leather-soled cowboy boots but it wasn’t like I could run home and change.

The door from the stairs exploded open. It was just the motivation I needed. I let my fingers go slack and tucked my knees to my chin.

The four-floor drop was fast and frantic. I spread out my elbows, knees, and butt to slow my descent but they banged and bruised more than they braked. Rough tin edges and screw points cut my clothes and skin, and the dust I stirred up would have made breathing tough, but who was breathing.

Stopping sucked, just like I knew it would. I landed hard on my butt. Now I knew how bull riders felt at the end of their eight seconds of work.

The shaft ended in the basement. I got to my hands and knees and peered through the aluminum slats. If I couldn’t kick off the vent cover, this game would end right here. It might be awhile before anybody discovered my skeleton.

As sore as my butt was, I sat back down and braced my back against the wall. Using both my legs, I rammed the cover with the feet. Again and again and again I hammered at it. The aluminum bent and buckled. Finally one side popped off its screws. I leaned forward and peeled back a portion big enough for me to squeeze though.

I was out.

Gingerly, I stood up, testing muscles and bones. Thank goodness nothing felt broken. I needed to move fast. I didn’t want to get cornered in the basement. The escape vent was only good for a one-way ride and I had already taken it.

I did a fast, limping tour of the basement, found the door to the stairs, and hurried upward. I’m really much better at running down stairs. I just wasn’t getting much of a chance to exhibit that skill.

The stairway spilled to the dock and I rushed out just in time to see Casey and Runt jump into my Mustang. Tom was right behind them. Once again I was glad Runt and I had the habit of leaving the keys in our vehicles.

“Go! Go!” I muttered to myself, waving frantically in a go-away motion in case they were looking my way. “Go-o-o-o-o!” I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by yelling at them but I thought the words loudly.

As the Mustang roared off, I turned and ran out of the parking lot. The next couple of blocks were packed with storefronts looking out onto the street. I stopped in a doorway to catch my breath. No one seemed to be chasing me. Could we all have gotten away that easy? Had they recognized Runt and gone after him? I concentrated on getting my body to quit shaking, taking deep breaths to get my blood oxygen level back to normal.

My arms were scratched and bleeding. My favorite boots were scuffed. My butt was tender. I pulled my cell from my rear pocket. Its cover was smashed and I assumed the bruise on my butt would be at least the size of the phone. When I pushed Casey’s speed dial button, her phone started ringing. It might look terrible but the phone still worked.

“Where are you?” Casey asked, instead of her usual hello.

“I’m on the street...ah…,” I looked around. “…Tabor and 29th.”

I could hear Runt talking in the background. “We can’t come get her yet. Tom’s hot on our trail. We’ll have to lose him first.”

“I heard him,” I said. “Good luck.”

“I’ll call when we’re safe,” she said and hung up.

So. Tabor and 29th. I didn’t have a clue what to do next. There weren’t many cars on the road and it was scary down on the dark street all by myself. I guess I could call Shade to come get me…

…NOT! I’d never give him that satisfaction. Rescuing damsels in distress was totally in his line of work, but not this damsel!

Out of the darkness, a black truck headed my way. I pressed myself back into the doorway and it passed me by. I didn’t know who to dodge and who to holler at for help. An old beat-up car with multicolored fenders and doors passed by while I was hidden away.

A little red car pulled into view.

Shade?

To be continued Monday.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Fourteen

2009-04-15T01:30:00.000-05:00

The long hair blowing in the open air of the convertible wasn’t Shade’s, though. It was Tony’s and I was so dern glad to see her I didn’t care how she’d gotten Shade’s car keys again or how she'd escaped the watchful eyes of her father.

“Hey!” I yelled, leaping out from the protective doorway. “TONI! HEY!” I ran down the middle of the street, waving my arms frantically. “TONI!”

The car stopped and she turned around in her seat. “T.R.?” she called out. The gears made a grinding noise before she finally found reverse and backed up to where I was standing.

“What are you doing here?” we both asked at the same time. I jumped over the passenger door and settled into the seat.

“I’m looking for Shade,” she said. “I thought he’d be with you.”

“No way.” I looked around. “Drive. Hurry up. Let’s get out of here. This is a dangerous place. Drive!”

Toni just sat there. “Why should I? You didn’t take me to the mall!”

I looked her dead in the eyes. “Toni, I mean it. Drive!”

“You’re no fun,” she said, but she rammed the transmission into drive and took off down the street. A couple of days ago I was totally scared riding with Toni. Tonight, or rather this morning, I’d jumped into the car willingly and was begging her to speed away.

“Do you know where the police station is?” I asked.

“Thanks to you I do,” she replied.

“Good. Go park behind it.”

“Can we see Freddy and Darryl?”

“Maybe.”

“OK, then!”

I let out a little laugh as I punched Casey’s number on my phone again. “You two all right?” I asked when she answered her phone.

“Yes. So far. But they’re right behind us.”

“Head to the parking lot behind the police station,” I told her. “I’ll meet you there.”

Casey repeated what I said to Runt. “We’re there in three,” she said optimistically and hung up.

Toni turned down Wm. J. Bryan Parkway, then made a right onto Texas Avenue. A couple seconds later Casey and Runt pulled behind us in my Mustang. Tom in a super tall, big-wheeled monster truck with lime green flames was close on their tail.

We’d gone two blocks when Runt’s duelie turned onto Texas Avenue right behind Tom.

“Now who?” I said out loud. But it didn’t take a game of twenty questions to figure it out. That had to be Shade.

“Well, Toni. You found Shade,” I told her.

“I’d rather see Freddy and Darryl,” she replied.

Fickle girl. But then who was I to talk. Earlier I had experienced a Dant-kiss when what I really wanted was the Shade-kiss.

A block away from the police station, Tom must have figured out where we were going because he peeled off to the right and disappeared down a side street. Shade got to move up a notch in the parade. The caravan pulled into the station’s back parking lot usually reserved for squad cars. We all tumbled out of our vehicles.

“T.R.,” Casey yelled as she ran up and threw her arms around me, twirling me in a circle. Toni was jumping up and down, clapping her hands in contagious excitement.

“I pulled my pistol on them!” Casey yelled in my ear. “I pulled my pistol and told them to back off! And they totally did!”

Runt let out whoop. “You should have seen her with that gun! Man, she was great!” They both had pure adrenaline flowing through their veins. I was a smiling fool with a really sore butt.

Shade didn’t join our little group. He was leaning against the pickup door, arms crossed. It reminded me of the first time Toni had stolen his car.

“Toni,” I said sobering. “Go apologize to Shade for taking his convertible again without his permission.”

“No.”

“Yes,” I said sternly.

“No,” she said as Freddy walked out the back door of the station.

“What’s going on out here?” Freddy asked, but his voice was too friendly to be official.

“SorryShade,” Toni said as she ran over to stand beside Freddy. “Hey, Freddy.”

“Hey, Gorgeous,” Freddy said, patting her on the head like a puppy.

Shade looked down at his boots and shook his head. “I’ve been replaced…thank God.”

Still shaking his head, Shade started walking my way. He passed Freddy and placed a hand on the deputy’s shoulder. “I hope you have lots of vehicles,” Shade said. Freddy gave him a confused look. “We’ll talk about it later,” Shade told the deputy as he continued walking towards me. When he got within an arm’s length, I started backing up.

“Stay away from me, Shade,” I told him. “Stay away.” I don’t know what I thought he’d do to me but I knew, at the very least, he was furious. “Now, Shade….”

I glanced over at Casey. She had a big grin on her face. The back of my legs and my bruised butt bumped against the hood of the convertible.

“Ouch,” I whispered weakly.

Shade stretched an arm out on each side of my hips until his hands were flat on the car. I bent over backwards trying to steer clear of him.

Shade and I were nose-to-nose, eyeball to eyeball, with my back laid across the car.

“He sniffed the air. “Do you smell…a pine tree?”

“Umm…no,” I said. My heart was already beating so fast the lie went unnoticed.

“I’ve been worried sick about you,” he said. “Good God, the things that could have happened to you.”

I swallowed hard, thinking the same thing. If he only knew.

“I should turn you over my knee and spank you. Don’t ever do this to me again, T.R. Like it or not, I’m in love with you. And there’s nothing I can do about it.”

My brain bounced back and forth trying to wrap itself around his words. Our lips were so close our breaths mingled. If I’d licked my lips, I would have moistened his too. I closed my eyes as he planted the Shade-kiss on my mouth. My chocha spontaneously combusted and I put my arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Wave after wave of delicious desire swept over me. I’ve been kissed by Shade in the past but it had never felt like this. There were no lingering thoughts of Dant-kisses wandering through my head. In fact, the Shade-kiss blocked everything out of my mind. I wanted more of whatever he had to give.

Vaguely I heard a spattering of applause around us. As the kiss dragged on, the applause turned into nervous throat clearing and dirt kicking. OK, everybody wasn’t as excited about the Shade-kiss as I was. Runt and Casey wanted to tell their side of the adventure and Toni simply wanted to talk with Freddy. But I wanted to go on kissing Shade forever.

We didn’t stop kissing. We merely untouched our lips. But not our eyes. Not our hands. Not our bodies. Just the lips unkissed. I put my head on Shade’s shoulder and everybody started yapping at once.

“Well, obviously something’s happened that I don’t know about,” Shade said, calmly. His demeanor was quiet, too quiet. I could tell he was mad at being left out of this caper. Mad and horny and curious ─ not a good combination in a man. “I need to hear all about this, but not here. We have three vehicles to get home, so let’s all go to my place to debrief.”

Oof. The visual I suddenly had. “Debrief?” I asked.

“Behave,” Shade said with a smile.

Freddy stuck out his lower lip, faking a pout. “Can I come too? I’m off work.”

“NO!” I said a little too loudly. “I…um…mean we…a…have some business we need to talk about that’s…a…personal.”

“You sure this isn’t cop business?” Freddy asked suspiciously.

“We’re sure,” we all said in unison. Quickly we divided up and headed towards our different cars. Shade pulled me towards the duelie but I dug in my heels.

“I’ve got to go with Toni,” I said, “Or no telling where she’ll end up.”

“Damn. Right,” he agreed and we let our hands slip apart.

The Mustang with Casey and Runt pulled out of the lot first. Then Shade, reluctantly, in the duelie. The little red convertible was last in line. It was hard getting Toni away from Freddy.

“You sure I can’t go?” Freddy asked again. “It looks like a fun party to me.”

Toni said OK but I said no. “Next time, Freddy,” I called back as I stepped on the gas and sped away.

We were only seconds behind Shade. I could see the taillights of the duelie and mustang up ahead.

My mind sing-songed Shade’s words. He loves me. He loves me.

I picked up my cell phone and punched Whitey’s cell number. They never sleep. I had to check on Consuelo. The phone rang several times on Whitey’s end but no one answered.

He loves me. He loves me. I could hardly think clearly with those words repeating over and over in my head.

The red taillights up ahead turned the corner, headed for the country. Toni and I were still in the quiet warehouse district, where things were dead as roadkill.

Sha-a-a-ade loves me. Sha-a-ade loves me.

Wham! Crunch! Screech. Severe bump, bump, bump. The convertible jerked to a sudden halt, the cell phone flying out of my hand, out of the car, in fact. Toni and I both looked backwards over our shoulders.

We didn’t have to look far. The bumper of Tom’s super tall, big-wheeled monster truck was in the seat right behind us. He’d driven right up over the trunk of Shade’s little red car.

“Shit!” I said, looking up from the grill to the hood ornament high above us.

Toni grabbed me and almost crawled into my lap. “T.R.,” she said, starting to cry. “I’m scared.”

“We’re OK. We’re not hurt, Toni,” I said, pushing her back into her seat. I gunned the motor, trying to pull the convertible free from the truck. The tires spun but the car didn’t move. I felt like the little red apple in a big pig’s mouth at barbeque time.

Toni cried out again. “T.R., I’m scared.”

Me too. Me too.

I shifted into a lower gear and gunned the engine again. I could smell the rubber of the smoking tires.

“I’m glad I’m not driving,” Toni whispered.

Me too. Me too.

I heard the doors of Tom’s monster truck pop open. I tried my own door but it was jammed.

“Come on, Toni!” I said. “Jump over the door!” If I’d been by myself, I would have already leaped out of the car and be running down the street but I had Toni to think about. She was my responsibility. By the time she got her legs under her to jump, Tom and Eddy had swung down out of the Dodge and were beside us, guns in hand.

Tom’s face was all sneer. Toni’s was all panic. I sat back on my haunches, folding my arms across the steering wheel, wondering what was going to happen next.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Miss Texas Hold’em herself,” said Tom. “What are the odds of running into you? Literally.”

Eddy pounced on the statement. “Odds were damn good since she was at the end of the line. Get out, bitch.” I’d heard his voice before, when he was soaking wet and digging into his pants.

He waved his gun at us. I wasn’t imagining guns the other day after all. A lot of good the knowledge did me now, especially since Shade wasn’t here to see the proof.

Slowly I raised my butt to sit on the seat back, then rolled my legs over the side of the car. Toni did the same and she started talking.

“Shade’s gonna be mad about his car. He loves his car. I put his truck in the river. I was gonna put his car in there but then T.R. and I were goin’ to the mall ‘cause I needed jeans and two shirts and a bra but then Freddy and Darryl came up and gave me a…”

“Shut up! Egad, you got a mouth on you,” Tom, the Stalkin’ Starer, said.

Eddy reached out to Toni’s hair and started stroking it. “Leave her alone!” I said sternly.

Eddy cut his eyes to me with a warning look. “Whacha gonna to do about it?”

“Don’t hurt this girl,” I said to them both. “She may look like a woman but she’s just a little girl, really.”

“Leave her alone, Eddy,” Tom said in a low growl. “We don’t have time for this now.”

Eddy immediately took his hand away from Toni’s hair. I stepped over to her and she put her arms around me, burying her face in my neck.

“Go back the truck off that car and make sure it’s drivable,” Tom told his partner.

Eddy gave him a blank look. “Of course it’s drivable. We just drove it here!” he said.

Tom shot him a look that started with the word ‘idiot.’ “The car, stupid. Make sure the car’s drivable.”

“Oh. Right. The car. I thought you….”

“I know what you thought,” Tom interrupted. “Just do it.”

Tom turned his attention back to me. “Your little girlfriend’s going to take Shade’s red convertible for a ride. I’m gonna send her back to Brother Runt with a message about you. She’ll be my own pretty little carrier pigeon.”

Eddy swung up into the truck and tried to back it off the car but the Dodge and the convertible clung together in a passionate embrace. He threw the transmission into first gear and rocked the Dodge forward. Then he jammed it into reverse and rocked the Dodge backward. Nothing. He tried again and again. First gear. Reverse. First again. Reverse again. Back and forth. The three of us watched, fascinated. It was like witnessing little cars and trucks being conceived.

With a loud crunch the vehicles separated. I felt like I should offer the monster truck a cigarette.

“Holy cow!” Toni said, with eyes as big as the truck’s tires. I wondered what she was thinking. Her range of experience might be limited but she had plenty of natural urges going for her.

Eddy jumped out of the large vehicle and into the smaller one. We knew the convertible’s motor would start but could the car actually move down the road? It looked deformed with its flattened trunk and back seat. They were small to begin with but now Shade had a classic two-seater car like Whitey’s.

But the convertible could still move. Eddy peeled out, made a uey, and came back to us.

Darn.

“It’s hard to corner and jerky as hell, but it can get her there,” Eddy said as he hopped out over the jammed door.

“Jump in, pretty little carrier pigeon,” Tom said to Toni. “You go find Runt and you tell him his sister is gonna look like this car’s butt if he doesn’t get in touch with me and do what he’s supposed to do. I’m through playing around with this. It happens now. You got that?”

Toni climbed into the car and just sat there. I knew she didn’t understand all of what Tom had said but I thought with me missing and the car looking like it did, the message would be delivered.

Toni looked scared. I know I was shaking. “T.R.?” she said.

“Go home to Shade, Toni,” I said. She gave us that gorgeous smile and I felt Eddy achieve the greatest sexual experience of his life. He reached out for her but she floored the accelerator and was gone down the block with her characteristic reckless speed. It took several minutes for the glazed look to leave Eddy’s eyes.

Tom said, “Let’s go,” and jerked me by my shirt sleeve to the truck. At least, I thought to myself, I’d find out how to get up into one of these monster trucks.

Tom reached up and opened the door for me but I didn’t have a clue what to do next. “Reach up to the seat bottom with one hand and the arm rest with the other, grab hold, and lift your body with your arms,” he said. “Then put your foot on that step.”

“Yeah, right,” I said. I knew with my chest, I wouldn’t be able to do that. I’ll tip forward for sure.

“Cripes, I’ll make a step for your foot,” said Tom. For a moment there it looked like he was going to ask me to hold his gun but then he stuck it in his waistband and formed a step with his hands, weaving his fingers together. I put my foot onto it like a jockey mounting a horse and Tom all but tossed me into the cab. I scooted to the center of the truck seat.

I would not cry. I would not! These men wanted Runt, not me. At least my brother was safe for now. They’d use the fact they’d captured me to get to him, but surely they wouldn’t hurt me. Wouldn’t rape me. Wouldn’t hit me. Oh, why didn’t I listen to Shade and Runt. They said I needed a man and I could sure use one on my side right now

As both men hauled themselves up in the Dodge, I looked them over pretty good. Tom was attractive with his dark hair and tanned features. He oozed privileged upbringing. Eddy looked like a big, dumb boy. Neither man seemed to be the type who’d hurt a woman, but I had to remember ─ one of them killed Sloppy. One of them had grabbed me from behind and yanked my neck. One of them was dangerous!

Maybe I should try to establish a relationship with these kidnappers. I read somewhere about a lady who did that and her captors let her go. Somehow I doubted that would happen in this case, though.

“Why would anyone want a truck like this?” I asked. Neither man said a word.

“How’s Runt going to know where we’re at?”

Still silence. “Gonna be a long night, isn’t it!” I concluded out loud.

I was glad Toni was out of the mix. I was worried enough about myself. Still, I wondered if she’d make it all the way back to Shade’s ranch with the convertible disabled like that or if she’d get stuck in the dark on some country road, a beautiful woman-child at the mercy of passing strangers.

Adrenalin from all the excitement had long since left my body. I felt drained, both mentally and physically. My stomach was fighting against throwing up. My bladder felt close to bursting. My butt hurt. My shoulder had started aching sometime after hurtling through Sirlo’s vent. A newly painted fingernail had broken back to the quick. I’d lost an earring ─ OK, I had thrown it away testing the vent but either way it was gone. And I no longer knew or cared where my purse was, something that could get me thrown out of the Girls Night Out Society. Not to mention I’d lost my cell phone ─ major Girls Night Out violation.

I was so exhausted I couldn’t even make up a headline about this kidnapping. I was sitting between two stinking ─ literally ─ men who I didn’t even know but I knew enough about them to know that being with these cretins was not a good thing.

The big truck was not the smoothest running machine I’d ever ridden in. As it bobbed and weaved through the darkened streets, my nausea continued to grow. I was getting seriously carsick. I tried to figure out where we were going, but with the adrenalin crash and the carsickness, my brain wouldn’t function properly. I closed my eyes for a second and promptly blacked out. I barely noticed when we stopped and an enormous garage door opened.

We drove in and I heard Tom say, “She still livin’?”

“Yeah,” Eddy replied and they jumped down out of the truck. I used that to my advantage and spread out on the seat to play dead, which wasn’t very much of a stretch. Maybe this was all a bad dream and I’d wake up in my own bed. I’ve read books like that.

But when I woke up hours later, I was still inside the cab of the monster truck.

To be continued Friday.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Fifteen

2009-01-22T22:00:00.000-06:00

I tried to stretch the ache out of my muscles when I woke up but only succeeded in banging my arms against the steering wheel. I opened my eyes.

Where was I? Some cowboy’s truck? Heaven help me! Had I stooped that low to get dates?

I looked down at my janitor’s clothing and the events of last night rushed back into my brain. The monster truck, kidnappers, Runt in trouble ─ things I didn’t want to think about. I shook my head to clear it and peeked over the truck’s window edge. I almost passed out again seeing how far down to the ground it was.

I was in an empty warehouse, and I do mean empty. Nothing was stored in the steel building. No men worked there. It was clean and new. Spotless. Skylights and florescent lighting lit the place up, but for what I didn’t know. There was absolutely nothing to see.

Just the monster truck and little ol’ me inside the building.

Me. All by myself.

Alone.

“I’m outa here!” I said to myself.

I opened the door of the Dodge.

HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK!

The noise from the alarm almost knocked me out of the cab. I grabbed hold of the armrest and lowered myself down to the floor. A bathroom sign on a door across the warehouse beckoned me like a hawker at a country fair carnival.

HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK!

Eddy came running from the back of the warehouse. So much for being alone in the warehouse.

HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK!

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” Eddy yelled above the noise of the horn.

“SHOOT ME! I NEED THE LADIES ROOM!” I screamed back. And I meant it. I needed the bathroom and I needed it bad.

HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK!

I ran towards the ladies room, flew though the door, and slammed it shut behind me. The lavatory was dirty but useable. But then, in the state I was in, a bucket would have been useable. No windows, I noted, but it had tissue! Like all women I have a tissue issues!

The alarm system on the truck shut down. Thank goodness for that. I was on my last nerve. I hadn’t slept under my own sheets in days. I missed my pillow. I’d skipped more meals than I’d eaten. And truth be told, I was damn tired of being kidnapped almost every day.

OK, Shade hadn’t really kidnapped me. Toni, well, she was just being Toni. Once I figured that out, I wasn’t scared anymore. But this time! This time it the real thing and I was petrified. These men had guns. They’d killed Sloppy. They wanted Runt or else.

I wondered again if Toni had made it back to Shade’s place and if she had, were Runt and Shade looking for me? I was too hungry to think and I badly needed deodorant. Lord knows, I needed makeup. Not that I wanted to look good for these misfits. I just wanted to look good to get my edge back. I missed my attitude. I missed my life. I even missed Shade!

I splashed water on my face and under my arms. If stink was contagious, I’d caught mine from Tom and Eddy. No towels. They could get points taken off for that by the Health Department. I wiped my hands on my jeans and mustered the courage to walk back into the warehouse. Damn. I’d rather walk through cow poop!

I opened the bathroom door. There stood Eddy, hands on his hips.

“Where’s Tom?” I asked.

“He’s got business that ain’t none of yours! Get back in the truck,” he said.

“I will not!”

“Yes, you will. Tom said to keep you there so I can set the alarm and relax.”

“Well, I need to move around. I’m not used to sitting in one place for long periods of time.”

“You deal Hold’em. You ain’t no athlete. I’m not going to tell you again. Get into the truck.”

“ ‘Get out of the truck! Get into the truck!’ Make up your mind,” I said, remembering twice before when he wanted me out of a vehicle. Oh, yeah. This was the Fruit-of-the-Loom-holsterer from the stoplight. The same pants-digging, gun-toting dirt bag. I was sure of it.

“Listen,” I said, giving him my sweet smile. I’d never used it on a scumbag before. Well, besides Dante. “I’m bored in the truck. You’re bored in the warehouse. Let’s play poker.”

“Yeah, right!” He thought for a second, then added, “I got cards but no chips.”

That when I knew I had him. We’d play poker, all right. I’d baited the hook and pulled in a sucker. I tried to help his thinking along. “No chips? That’s not a problem. What do you guys have a lot of?”

He looked like he was studying on the matter. I again got the feeling that Eddy wasn’t a big thinker. I didn’t offer to play with the wad of money I’d won off Dante. I wasn’t that desperate. Yet. The money was still tucked away in my bra, safe and secure. I don’t trust purses. I misplace them too easily, but bras have to stay with me out of necessity.

Eddy was still thinking.

“Peanuts? Matches? Candy?” I asked, pushing his thoughts along.

“Nah,” he said. “We ain’t got a lot of nothing’ here.”

“Popcorn? Jelly beans? That reminds me. I’m hungry.”

“I’m tellin’ ya, there’s nothing’ here. The only thing Tom keeps in this warehouse are sleeping bags and his medicine.” Eddy walked over to a sleeping bag and retrieved a tired bologna sandwich and a warm soda from a paper bag. He handed them to me and I was desperate enough to be grateful for the nasty meal.

“What kind of medicine?” I asked him, chewing on a big bite of stale bread and limp meat. “Pills?”

He walked over to his bedding and laid down his gun. He needed both hands to pick up all of Tom’s plastic medicine bottles and bring them back to me. Maybe I could keep him distracted and he wouldn’t remember his gun again.

“You know,” he said, “aspirin, vitamins, some doctor junk. Stuff like that.”

“Well, it’s a first for me but let’s play with these.”

“You’re kidding,” he said, but I shook my head no. I definitely wasn’t joking. I needed to play poker.

OK, maybe I am addicted to poker.

I looked over Tom’s stash of pills and decided the cheap aspirin would be dollar chips. The vitamins with extra C would be five dollars each. The antibiotics (I didn’t even want to know what they were for), twenty-five dollars each. And the nine Viagra would be hundred dollar chips. Go Viagra. Tom must have a little problem in the sex department.

Eddy dragged in a rickety old table and a couple of chairs from the connected office area. I inched towards the sleeping bag and the gun but before I could make it all the way there, Eddy hurried past me and retrieved it. He stuck it in the back of his waistband and picked up a deck of old and tattered cards, their box gone long ago.

“I saw what you were up to,” he said, pushing me towards the table and chairs. “Don’t take advantage of my good nature. Sit! It was you with the hots to play poker!”

I sat before I ruined everything. I didn’t want to end up confined in the Dodge again. Playing poker for pills was a heck of a lot better than sitting in that monster truck with absolutely nothing to do.

I shuffled the cards. I didn’t even know if they were all there but if the player didn’t care, why should the dealer?

“Ante up,” I said.

He dropped an aspirin in the middle of the table. I threw in two.

“Why’d you get to throw in two aspirin?”

“Chips. Two chips.

“OK, but I only bet one chip. Why’d you bet two?”

I looked across the table at Eddy. Should I explain ‘blinds’ to him? Nah. We’d never get to the hole cards!

“You’re right. I should have bet only one aspirin.” I pulled the extra pill back into my stack.

“Chip,” he said.

“Right, again. Chip.” I dealt the hole cards.

“And you’re supposed to be the professional,” Eddy scoffed.

I shrugged my shoulders and looked innocent. It wasn’t the first time I played stupid to win at poker.

“Bet’em,” I said.

One more aspirin chip for each of us went into the pot. I burned a card and dealt the flop.

“What’d you just do?”

“When?”

“Right then! You put the top card under the aspirins! You’re cheatin’ already and it’s only the first hand!”

OK, I had a clue here. Not one for the Runt and biometrics situation but one for the Eddy situation. “Chips. Under the chips, Eddy, And all I did was burn the top card. Have you ever played Texas Hold’em before?”

“Burn it. You buried it under the aspirins…chips…hell, whatever you want to call’em! Just because I ain’t never played Hold’em before doesn’t mean you should try and cheat me. I ain’t stupid.”

I looked at Eddy but didn’t say anything. I just wrinkled my nose. He was stating his opinion of himself. I didn’t need to add mine.

My wordlessness must have shown my disdain because Eddy spoke up. ”Ah…well…ain’t Hold’em like regular poker only played in Texas?” he asked.

Hummmm. “Let’s start from the beginning. Texas Hold’em 101.”

Eddy learned slowly and was an easy mark. He had more tells than a dog in heat. He blinked his eyes, kneaded his mouth, and popped his knuckles whenever he had a playable hand. I checked or folded when that happened. An hour later Eddy was out of pills and I had more Viagra than I’d ever need or want. Somehow playing the game for pills wasn’t nearly as exciting as playing for big bucks with Dante.

“I guess I just don’t get all the fine points of Hold’em,” Eddy said.

Well, duh.

A key jiggled in the lock and we both turned our heads towards the office door. A distinguished-looking woman with white hair twisted into a bun at the base of her neck walked through the door. The gray suit said quality. Her soft pink blouse matched the pink leather bag and shoes. Glasses hung from a string of pearls around her neck.

I was up and out of my seat as fast as a rodeo horse is out a chute. Eddy was right behind me but somehow he got there first. Confused as what he should do next, he looked from one of us to the other, then back again.

“Eddy?” the woman asked. “Is everything OK here?”

I spoke up instead of Eddy. “I’ve been kidnapped! Please help me?” The woman looked blankly at me.

“Hey, Aunt Lois,” Eddy said. Again he looked from me to her, then back to me again. “That’s Mrs. Sirlo Senior,” he said to me.

“Mrs. Sirlo, I’ve been kidnapped! Please help me!”

“Aunt Lois,” Eddy said, “this is T.R.”

“I know, dear.” She patted me on the shoulder then turned to hug Eddy, “Eddy is such trash to have kidnapped you, aren’t you, Eddy?”

Trashy Eddy just smiled and nodded his head up and down.

“He’s not like my Tommy. Tommy is such a dear boy, not a bad bone in his body. Lord yes. Isn’t that right, Eddy?” Again Eddy smiled and nodded. Nobody mentioned the fact that dear Tommy had been in on the kidnapping also.

I probably looked like an armadillo suddenly on alert, my head cocked to one side, ears up, eyes confused by this new development. Mrs. Sirlo was OK with her son and nephew kidnapping me? I was doomed! Well, Shade had wondered who else was in on this takeover. I guess we had at least a partial answer.

“What y’all doing?” she asked.

“Playin’ poker. Wanna play?” said Eddy. “She already won all my chips from me. Except we don’t got no chips. We’re playin’ for pills.”

“Lord yes, I want to play. Are you playing Hold’em? I love Hold’em,” the older woman said.

Well, that confirmed my conviction that everyone loves playing Texas Hold’em. But it also emphasized the disappointing observation that this fastidiously dressed middle-aged woman with sterling silver Mexican combs in her hair would be absolutely no help to me in my current abducted status.

“Do we have to play with pills?” she asked. “I have lots of money in my purse.” I noticed how large her purse was and thought again of the money safely tucked in my cleavage controller. Always the gambler, I wondered if I could take advantage of the situation and add to my assets, money wise that is. I may be kidnapped but I smelled a sucker here. A sucker with money, not pills.

Mrs. Sirlo hauled her purse from her side and started rooting through it.

“Money? Real money, like in the foldin’ kind?” asked Eddy, “I think I could play better if it was for foldin’ money instead of pills.”

“Lord yes. Want me to deal? I can be the banker and the dealer.”

Lord yes, I said to myself as I shook my head, not believing the situation I was in. She might not have been the savior I was hoping for and I might still be kidnapped, but at least I was going to play poker with a live one.

Eddy dragged up another chair and I noticed the gun in his waistband was working its way upwards from his butt and I didn’t blame it. That’s the last place I’d want to be too but I felt the situation was dangerous. I could just see it falling out onto the cement floor and going off, shooting me in the foot or worse.

“Eddy, fix your gun,” I offered.

“Lord yes. In fact, put that thing away over there someplace,” Mrs. Sirlo said, pointing to his sleeping bag on the far side of the warehouse. “You’re going to accidentally shoot one of us.”

Eddy did as he was told and came back to the table. Mrs. Sirlo and I had already taken our places. She was generously divvying up her money. Lots of ones, fives, and tens. A large handful of hundreds. She couldn’t help but think she was running a numbers game on the side.

Mrs. Sirlo picked up the deck of cards and shuffled up.

“Now, dear,” she said to me. “I don’t know if all the cards are here. You’ll just have to trust me on that.” She cut the deck. I could see I didn’t have to teach her anything. In fact, I might learn a thing or two. It felt like I was watching myself in my old age, seeing my future. It wasn’t a pretty sight. If I ever got unkidnapped, I thought, I might want to get some addiction counseling to prevent this sort of thing from happening to me.

“Lord yes,” our dealer said. “Now these are hole cards. Let’s bet on them.” I had pocket rockets and a poker face.

“With our chips,” Eddy said, proud to know the poker parlance.

“Lord no. We don’t have any chips. We’re playin’ with real money.”

Eddy looked so dejected at his misuse of gambling jargon again, I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

Two hours later I was one rich kidnap victim. Somewhere during that time I dropped the Mrs. Sirlo and started calling her Aunt Lois. I didn’t do it because I felt close to her. I just felt close to her money!

To be continued Monday.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Sixteen

2009-01-22T21:56:00.000-06:00

“Eddy, we need a break,” I said. “Here’s a twenty. Go get us some beer. Cold beer.”

“Lord, yes.” Aunt Lois tossed Eddy her car keys. “Use my car, honey. The police are on the lookout for the monster truck. And lock us in,” she said. “I don’t want our guest leaving while you’re gone.”

I raised my eyebrows at the mention of the police. Eddy took the keys and money and disappeared through the office door. “Yeah,” I said looking at the vehicle. “A monster truck with bright lime green flames and undercarriage would be hard to miss.”

“What?” Lois asked but I just lowered my eyes and started playing Solitaire. “Oh, I know my dear boys,” Lois continued. “Tommy’s not the brightest horse in the corral. And Eddy definitely isn’t. But they’re easily led and that’s important to me. That’s why I needed someone smart like Runt to help me.”

My hands stopped messing with the cards when she said my brother’s name.

“Help you?” I asked.

“I remembered him from when the boys were all in high school and all the trouble that child kept getting into with computers. Lord, yes. My dear Tommy did good in school but Eddy needed his grades changed a time or two.”

Yeah, I bet. “Let me get this straight. You’re the boss of this outfit?”

“Lord, yes. You think Eddy could be boss? Dear Tommy could but I just wouldn’t feel right about that. You know, being out to get his father and all.”

“So Tommy’s not trying to take over his father’s company?” I asked, but it wasn’t really a question. More of a statement. “You are.”

“Taking it over? I don’t think so. I don’t want it. I want to destroy it. Destroy Tommy’s father completely. Lord, yes. Destroy that man’s company, his life, his girlfriend’s life, their child’s life.”

Ohhhhh. Their child. A mistress and a love child. A mistress young enough to have a love child. Maybe I’d want to ruin the man, too, if that happened to me.

“If this affair has been going on long enough to have a child, why’d you wait this long to do something about it?” I asked.

“Lord, no. I didn’t wait long. They don’t have the child yet. The little bitch is pregnant. I believe you young people call it preggers. But I should have gotten suspicious when he started running little household errands. Grabbing a gallon of milk on the way home. Taking in the laundry. Picking up the cleaning. Humph!

“And she’s not even pretty! But, Lord, yes, she was sick the day I went in to see her, sicker than I ever got when I was pregnant. Of course, I’d seen her before. I’d just never looked at her when I went into that place. She must be a foreigner because her name is weird. She’s young enough to be Tom’s daughter! She’s Tommy’s age!”

Yuck. Senior with a woman my age? When there were men like Shade and Dante available? And with child by a man that old? He’d be in his late eighties at that child’s college graduation.

The relationship made my skin crawl between my shoulder blades. Tom Senior didn’t need Viagra. He needed ginseng to boost his brain power. I had assumed the Viagra was for Tom Junior. Maybe it was for Tom Senior. Wish I could get my hands on that medicine bottle again, for my own satisfaction. Well, not my satisfaction ─ definitely wrong word there. I meant for my own knowledge.

“OK. How does Tommy feel about ruining his Dad’s business and then destroying the life of his half-sibling?”

“How do you think he feels? His father has virtually left us high and dry for that whore and her kid. Tommy never gets to see the man anymore. His father doesn’t want him in his life now. Probably thinks he’s a reminder of me. His own child! And since Tommy’s an adult, Tom probably thinks he can take care of himself. Humph. Even adult children need fathers.

“After Tommy and I make his father’s life miserable, we’ll let him off with a little something and we’ll get a lot of something. Lord, yes. A lot of something.”

Suddenly I was mad. Very man! “YOU’RE SOMETHING ELSE!” I shouted. I stood up and walked away from the table, then back again. I knew my face was bright red with anger but I didn’t care.

“You scared the hell out of me, had me kidnapped ─ KIDNAPPED, FOR GOD’S SAKE! You killed my brother’s dog. All because of your family’s problems? Haven’t you ever heard of marriage counseling? Or divorce? Or even murder! Anything as long as it doesn’t involve my family!”

“Oh, we’re so sorry about the dog. I felt so bad when I heard about that. Eddy gets so carried away with that cowboy and Indian stuff. I think he watches too much Gunsmoke on TV Land. Lord, yes.”

Somehow I didn’t feel she really cared that much about Sloppy or our feelings for the dog.

“What’s gotten into you, woman?” I said, continuing my tirade. “I can’t believe you’d pull such a stupid trick. It’s bad enough you involved my brother but then to have me kidnapped? You’re insane! Tommy’s crazy! And Eddy…Eddy’s just plain dim-witted!”

From the blank look on her face I could tell my words didn’t mean anything to her. I settled down a bit to try another tactic. “You know, you really need to let me go so Tommy doesn’t have a kidnapping charge pressed against him.”

“Oh, don’t worry your head about that, dear. Lord no. As soon as Runt finishes up that old computer stuff, Tommy will let you go and everything will be fine.”

Fine? I wouldn’t bet on that. I’d been kidnapped one too many times this week to let this one ─ the real one ─ go by.

“Since I’m being held captive here, I assume Runt’s being forced to help Tommy now, as we speak?”

“Lord, yes. They’re both over at Sirlo’s right now with their heads together. Runt mentioned another friend, I think. A man named Clyde. Do you know him, dear?”

“Heard of him.” Yup, I’d heard of him. At least I knew things on the outside were rolling along without me.

I walked away from the table and back again. I thought about the gun in the far corner, but as lovely and ladylike as Aunt Lois seemed, I thought she’d probably be a scrapper too. We didn’t seem evenly matched. I was way younger but she looked to be in good shape. She also had her version of right on her side. I just had desperation.

I just couldn’t see me and the old lady sprinting across the room, then fighting for the gun. It wasn’t the form of gun control I’d be interested in. My winning streak might not hold up under those circumstances.

The hell it wouldn’t!

From a flat footed stance to an all out run, I raced around the table but it was like Aunt Lois knew I was going to make a move for the gun before I even thought it myself. She stuck out a dainty foot in a pink leather heel and sent me sprawling. I landed in a skidding five-point position. Nose, palms, and knees took the impact on the cement floor. I was still trying to get up when she leaped out of her chair.

Someone could have shot off a starter pistol and gotten the same reaction from Aunt Lois and me. We both started running towards the far corner. We were neck and neck, side by side, racing towards the gun. The slick leather soles of my cowboy boots and her low heels didn’t give either of us an advantage on the smooth concrete.

She threw her right elbow my way and gouged me in my side. I backhanded her with my left and had the satisfaction of seeing her head snap back. One of her heavy hair combs hit the floor. The blow stopped her in her tracks.

Lightning fast, her hand grabbed my shirt collar and jerked me backwards. The hold had me running in place, getting nowhere.

We were halfway to the gun.

A hunk of Aunt Lois’ gray hair fell loose from her coiffure and hung around her face. I grabbed hold of it and yanked with all my might. She tried to get a grip on the front of my shirt but got a hand full of titty instead.

I spun towards her, jabbing my palm upwards towards her chin. It connected hard but Aunt Lois wouldn’t let go of my titty. I was right about her being a scrapper.

I hauled her around in a circle by her hair, edging my way closer to the gun. She twirled me around by my titty, keeping me away from the far corner.

Round and round we went.

And then my bra strap ripped free.

The beautiful green American currency that I’d won from Dante flew out of my chest and fluttered to the warehouse floor. Both of us stopped where we were, still holding onto various body parts.

Aunt Lois must have felt silly standing there holding my titty because she let go first.

I felt silly too, standing there with one boob hanging out, holding the hair of a well dressed older lady, so I released my grip on her hair and straightened my shirt and booby as best I could. She pulled her hair back behind her ear and adjusted her skirt. We both were breathing heavy and sweating. I’m sure she would have used the more old fashioned term “glowing.”

“Looks like you had your own money to play with all along, my dear,” was all Aunt Lois said. She was between me and the gun. I stooped down and quickly gathered my money together. My broken bra would no long suffice as a safe so I stuffed the cash into my boot.

Silently calling an unspoken truce, we both walked with whatever dignity we could muster back to the table and sat down in the same seats we had before, like ladies gathering for afternoon tea. Deflated, I picked up the cards and dealt us a hand of Rummy.

Neither of us said a word. No accusations. No apologies. No exclamations. A new found respect for one another settled over us.

After of couple of hands of gentle card game, Aunt Lois spoke up. “I work out three times a week,” she said.

Oh. I continued to suck on my sore, bloody knuckle. “Guess I’m going to have to start working out myself,” I told her.

“How old are you?” I asked her.

“Sixty.”

Hmmm. Three times a week, huh? Wow. I’m half her age and don’t work out at all. And it tells. I can’t even beat an old lady in tit-to-hair combat.

Besides my bloody knuckle, my nose was bleeding a little and one booby was definitely hanging lower than the other from the broken over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. Aunt Lois’s hair was no longer neatly contained in a bun. It hung in long, damp lanks down her back. One of her cheeks was red and puffy. Two buttons, breast high, had popped off her blouse. For the moment I’d have to be satisfied with those results.

Several endings to this whole kidnapping scenario played out in my mind. I didn’t like most of them. This gang of relatives was a rough one, led by a tough old broad.

The office door opened and Eddy, with a suitcase of beer, strolled back into the warehouse.

“Well, it’s about time, Eddy. Lord, yes,” Aunt Lois not-so-lovingly said. “Pop me a cold one and sit down. I’ll give you a little more money. We have to play poker. We’ve got to win some of my money back from this woman.”

I couldn’t believe she didn’t ask me to give back her original stake. Maybe she realized I would have won it anyway, even if I had used my own funds.

Eddy looked from one of us to the other ─ again. We both looked him right in the eye. He didn’t have the guts to ask about our disheveled looks and we didn’t offer an exclamation.

“Sit,” I said, and he did. Aunt Lois pulled the cards together and started dealing poker.

Eddy spoke up but not about our tousled looks. “What’s all them clothes hanging in plastic bags in your car, Aunt Lois?” Eddy tilted his can and guzzled his beer.

“Just my dry cleaning. You take care of your cards, boy. We’ve got to play catch up. My money’s on the line here.”

Aunt Lois’ purse was a never ending source of cash for her and Eddy, My side of the table filled up nicely as more piles of currency were added beside the pills. We gambled the late afternoon away. Eddy’s eyes kept wandering to my uneven chest.

The suitcase of beer emptied out, mostly into Eddy and Lois. I just nursed a couple of beers along since I wanted to keep my wits about me. For what, I didn’t know yet. With this crew, though, anything could happen at any time. That was obvious. I couldn’t beat them one-on-one so I knew two against one wasn’t going to work either.

“I’m hungry. How about a pizza?” I said.

“Pepperponi!” Eddy tried to voice his choice of topping, but with all the beer he’d consumed, there were just too many Ps for the word to come out properly.

“No. Vegetarian.” This was from Aunt Lois. I was thinking pineapple and ham myself.

“OK, trip pizzas. I’m buying,” I said.

“Lord, yes, you’re buying. Winner always buys. Beer goes right through a girl. We need more toilet tissue too, Eddy,” Lois said. Another woman with tissue issues.

“You two be OK here together?” Eddy asked, suspiciously. He seemed hesitant to leave us alone again but after Aunt Lois mumbled uh-huh, he dutifully stumbled out for take-out and tissue. It wouldn’t bother me a bit if he got picked up on a DUI. Friends don’t let friends drive drunk, but the TV ad doesn’t say anything about letting kidnappers drive drunk.

Aunt Lois used her cell phone once in a hushed voice. All I heard was, “Well, call me when it happens.”

Aunt Lois fixed her hair and dug around in her purse until she found a safety pin for my broken bra strap. It probably wasn’t so much about my comfort as it was about exposing Eddy to carnal knowledge. But I remembered the look in his eye when he reached out and touched Toni’s hair and I knew he already had that knowledge. Aunt Lois’ reality must be more skewered than I thought if she didn't realize that.

I washed the blood from under my nose and used the safety pin. I needed a bath, a change of clothing, fresh makeup, and deodorant. Especially deodorant.

With the break in play I pondered the May/December, baby chick/old dinosaur, sweet young thing/old geezer relationship Tom Senior was enjoying. Somewhere in that sexual mess was a puzzle piece my mind kept picking at, but I didn’t know what it was. Anyway, what did I care who old man Sirlo was doing? Why should I even be dwelling on it?

Eddy arrived with the pizza. He’d made a gigantic mental leap, at least for him, by stopping to get more beer too. Of course, he had forgotten napkins. And plates. We all ate out of the boxes just like we were friends sitting around having a good time. Poker night with pals!

Hold’em ate up the hours but we played out at ten thirty-eight that night. At least that’s what time Aunt Lois’ watch said. Eddy and Aunt Lois were worn out and broke. We’d finally gone through all the purse money. Taking a rough mental count, I figured I’d taken in over three thousand dollars in cash and pills. Add that to the three dimes plus I’d won off Dante and I was one rich kidnap victim.

Best of all, I’d learned what was behind this dog and pony show Runt was involved in. Now if I could only go home!

“OK, I’m beat. Take me home, Eddy,”

They looked at me as if I’d grown fangs, a little fear mixed with wonder. After all, I’d just won all their money, ate with them, drank with them, fought with them ─ well, at least with one of them. I was like an old friend now. Comfortable. Personable. A fellow poker player. A hell of a lot better poker player than them but, by golly, who wasn’t!

“Lord, no. You’re staying here, my dear.” Aunt Lois gathered the cards together while Eddy crushed empty beer cans on his forehead and threw them across the room.

Dejectedly, I laid my head down on the table. My arms hung below the seat of my chair, one hand touching Aunt Lois’ big pink purse.

Hmmm, I thought. If she carried that much money, I’m willing to gamble she carried a gun in her purse. But then again, I’m always willing to gamble. With my head still on the table, I silently scooted the purse over just a little bit, put my hand inside, and fished around.

Yup, a gun. Not that I knew how to use one but I could grab it with both hands and point it like they do on TV. This could be a big bluff on my part or I could actually have the internal hole cards to pull this off.

After all, how hard could it be to pull the trigger of a gun?

To be continued Friday.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Seventeen

2009-01-22T09:52:00.000-06:00

I took a deep, quiet breath and settled the gun firmly in my hand. Rearing up, I threw my chair backwards to make a lot of noise. The gun came up in the same motion and I two-handed aimed it, first at Aunt Lois, then at Eddy, and then back again at Aunt Lois.

Aunt Lois gasped.

Eddy, damn him, jumped straight at me.

To my own amazement, I didn’t hesitate. I pulled the trigger.

Boom!

A little gun makes a big bang in an empty warehouse. Luckily for Eddy, the gun was pointed between him and his aunt when I squeezed the trigger. The bullet blasted the pile of Viagra before going through the table and into the cement floor. Eddie froze in place.

OK by me. I couldn’t use the Viagra anyway. But I bet one of the Toms would be boiling mad. I hear those pills are ten dollars each. But worth it, I hear. Worth it.

I was in control now and it was intoxicating. “Jeez, Eddy, Don’t do that again. You just caused me to ruin the love life of one of the Toms. It could have been your love life that got obliterated, buddy. Now you two get into the bathroom.”

Neither of them moved so I squeezed the trigger again. This time the bullet nicked a corner of a face-down playing card and through the face-up ace of hearts before exiting the other side of the table.

“Oops, can’t use that deck again. Those cards are marked now. I’m running out of bullets, I bet. Either one of you two want to take that bet?”

I guess they didn’t. With one hand holding her blouse closed at the missing booby buttons, Aunt Lois backed across the warehouse to the bathroom. She gave me the evil eye all the way. Eddy stumbled after her.

“Tom will get you for this!” he slurred.

“Hey," I said, "so far he’s got me for stuff that wasn’t my fault so he might as well get me for stuff that is.” I used the gun to motion him backwards some more. He didn’t like it but he went. My two shots through the table must have proved I’d shoot him if he didn’t do what I said.

I trailed after them, dragging a chair behind me. Into the bathroom they went, Aunt Lois in the lead. She shot me another dirty look but it landed harmlessly as I closed the door and crammed the chair beneath the knob.

I knew the chair trick wouldn’t hold on the slick cement for long. I needed something heavier to secure the door but there was nothing in the warehouse except more chairs, the table, and the monster truck.

Oh. The truck. I removed the chair from under the knob, opened the bathroom door again, and pointed the gun at Eddy.

“Give me the keys to the truck.”

Eddy snickered and handed them over. “You can’t drive that truck.”

“Want to bet on that?” I said as I grabbed the keys out of his hand and closed the door again, replacing the chair. I pulled myself up into the monster truck and looked around.

OK, I understood the fascination with mammoth haulers. You feel on top of the world, superior to all the little people looking up at you. I turned the key and the big machine started up, rumbling and vibrating beneath me.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the chair under the doorknob wiggle and slide down. The monster was making so much noise, I didn’t hear the chair fall. I put the truck into first gear, turned the wheels towards the bathroom door, and drove right up against it.

Shove that, Eddy. Good thing you didn’t take that bet. You would have lost ─ again. I shut the big truck down and lowered myself out of the Dodge.

Damn, I felt good. Now, let’s go see what Aunt Lois drives. It had to be something easier than the giant Dodge. A nice, simple, old lady’s car. As I grabbed her keys out of her purse, several pieces of paper fluttered out. I noticed the papers looked like a bunch of dry cleaner receipts, a big bunch of them. She must be the cleanest woman in town.

I started to place the gun back in Aunt Lois’ bag but stopped myself. It might come in handy since I didn’t know what Tom was up to. When this was all over with, I might just frame it. No, I thought. I’d trade it in for one of those little cowboy boot holster guns so I, too, could be in the in crowd.

Exiting the warehouse through the office, I headed out the front door. There sat a big, bright yellow Hummer, the only car in the lot. I guess lots of old ladies drive Hummers these days.

Damn, I should have taken a cell phone. Too late for that. I wasn’t going back into that warehouse. I was out and I was going to stay out. Maybe my own phone was still by the side of the road where it had landed when Tom and Eddy ran over the back seat of the Shade’s convertible.

I unlocked the Hummer door and climbed in. Not a big climb like the monster truck but still a climb. A quick visual of dainty Aunt Lois hauling herself into the Hummer flashed across my mind and for the first time in twenty-four hours I laughed out loud.

Eddy had mentioned Aunt Lois had dry cleaning in her car but I couldn’t believe how much was there. It filled the back seat and the Hummer had a big back seat. I thought of all those receipts in her purse. This woman had to be taking clothes to the cleaners every day.

I noticed a heap of thin, clear plastic on the floor next to a jumbled pile of pressed clothes.

Was she taking the same clothes to the cleaners every day? Why else would the pressed clothes be in a crumpled heap? But that didn’t make any sense. Why would a person do that?

I leaned down and grabbed a handfull of plastic to read the receipts still stapled to them. Crest Cleaners.

Crest Cleaners? Ca-rap.

Tom Senior had a young preggers mistress, a foreigner or so the name implied. He had been running all the household errands. Aunt Lois started running the errands again, especially the dry cleaning delivery and pickup. In fact, a whole wardrobe worth of dry cleaning and using her Hummer as a closet. A Crest Cleaners’ employee sick for weeks, months. An employee with a foreign-sounding name.

Weeba. Wallflower throughout high school. Too poor to go to college. Now pregnant with a married millionaire’s baby. I leaned my head against the strange steering wheel and tried to think straight, instead of the zig-zaggy thoughts I’d been having. I now had two loved ones in danger ─ Runt and Weeba. And neither knew about the other.

OK, I had to get my thoughts in order. I knew where Eddy and Lois were. They weren’t a threat to anybody since they were stuck in a windowless bathroom in the warehouse. I felt confident they would be staying exactly where they were ─ unless, of course, someone came along and moved the monster truck. Damn, I wish I had taken the keys to that monster truck! The keys and a cell phone. Too late for wish-I-hads.

Weeba was probably safe. Yeah, safe in the arms of her lover at this time of night. And good for her, I guess, although the visual of him using a walker, watching her dancing with men her own age kept popping into my head. I’d worry about Weeba tomorrow. Right now, Runt was the one who could be in danger. Who knew how Tommy was treating him at this very moment.

I stuck the key into the ignition of the Hummer and turned the engine over. It smoothly came to life like the mellow yellow it was. The beast drove great but I thought again of my faithful old Mustang just out of the shop and knew I’d be very glad to get back into that driver’s seat again. Little red convertibles, monster trucks, and Hummers are not for me. Just call me Mustang Sally, protector of friends and relatives.

Sirlo’s office building was only two blocks away, but before I headed there, I made a quick right and drove back to the scene of my kidnapping. It was a long shot that my phone would still be on the roadside and another long shot that it would be in any kind of working condition. But hey, I’m queen of the long shots lately.

I knew my cell would be mangled but it contained valuable names and phone numbers. If I didn’t go and get it, somehow it would find itself in Sonja’s hands and she’d try to take over all my customers with her wayward cowgirl approach to poker.

Little red fiberglass pieces of Shade’s car marked the crime scene. I parked the yellow Hummer and searched the road where I thought the phone might have landed, working my way back and forth in a grid formation. I didn’t have time to waste but I wanted my phone bad.

Nothing. I started back to the Hummer and was about to open the driver’s door when I heard a familiar little beep. I stood still and held my breath. There it was again. A low battery warning beep. I waited for another one, keeping myself alert for direction. In those weeds. Sure enough. But did it work?

I tested the phone by calling Runt. It rang but he didn’t answer. I didn’t bother to leave a message. I just wanted to see if the phone worked. I knew where Runt was ─ Sirlo’s!

This time when I arrived at Sirlo’s dock, the place was smothered in darkness and no friendly janitor awaited me. I drove around to the front of the building. Two cars I didn’t know were in the lot. A glow radiated from one of the rooms on the first floor. A different office from last night but the light was as good as a big X marked on a treasure map. It narrowed the game considerably.

I parked the Hummer and boldly walked to the door. It was locked, of course. I stood there counting my outs, jingling change and Hummer keys in one pocket and feeling the smooth green wad of won poker money in the other. My winnings from Dante were still in my boot, starting to rub blisters. Expensive blisters. I felt like a walking Fort Knox.

Hmmm. I pulled the Hummer keys back out of my pocket. I bet there was one special key on the ring, one that opened the door to Sirlo's. I tried each key unil the last one clicked the lock open.

I didn’t both to relock the door. After all, Tom was inside. With Aunt Lois and Eddy stashed away at the warehouse, I doubt if any more bad guys would be arriving. Anybody coming in from the outside would probably be a good guy.

Voices drifted down the hallway. An eerie feeling crawled my scalp. I mean, I was in the same place as last night, in the same clothes, with the same makeup, the same problems ─ except this time I was alone. I didn’t have faithful Casey and gutsy Consuelo for backup.

And tonight Runt was already in the building. When it all came down, it would be Runt and me against the world.

Quietly, I sneaked down the hall to the occupied office. I squatted down and peeked around the door frame. Maybe, I thought, I wouldn’t be caught out of the corner of Tom’s eye if I was way low.

Runt was at the computer. Tom was sitting behind him, cleaning his fingernails with a straightened out paperclip. No Clyde. I quickly pulled my head back into the hallway and listened. Neither man said a word for several minutes.

“Damn, Runt,” Tom finally said. “This computer snooping takes forever. I’d like to get to bed sometime tonight.”

“How do you think my sister feels?” I smiled at Runt’s concern for me.

“Mom says she’s happily playing poker,” Tom said. “Why’d we have to go through all that bullshit about biometrics and me forcing you into this, anyway?”

My smile froze on my face.

“Hey,” Runt said. “if this shit goes wrong, I want to be the fairly innocent victim in all this. She’s my alibi. You got family behind you. And family money. I got nothing until and if you get your hands on all your dad’s blackmailable secrets.

“You can go home if you want to,” Runt added. “I’ve got a couple of more hours work here.”

My brain went numb, my body paralyzed with this unexpected knowledge. Runt was playing me! His own sister! He really was neck deep in illegal activity.

And Mom was concerned because I deal poker in an underground card room. She’s been worrying about the wrong damn child! Oh God, this will break her heart.

No wonder Aunt Lois said not to worry about Tom facing kidnapping charges. I wouldn’t dare press charges against Tom because it would reveal Runt’s part in all this mess.

I needed to get out of Sirlo’s, to run as far away from Runt as I could. Only then could I begin to think this through. I forced myself to stand up and quietly hurried to the front door.

Damn, damn, damn. And damn again. I wanted my life back, the one I had last week when all I worried about was Whitey getting raided by the cops and H.C.s from gambling boyfriends. When Runt’s computer antics were limited to high school shenanigans, and Shade was just a semi-sweet memory, not the man I might be falling in love with.

Jeez, things had been so rotten in the last twenty-four hours, I hadn’t even had time to think about Shade telling me he loved me. At this point I didn’t care if he did or not. I’d never trust another man again. If my own brother would lie to me and put my life in danger, what would a boyfriend and lover do? Well, I guess I knew one thing they’d do. They’d write me a gigantic hot check!

But all that seemed meaningless now, my won money only paper.

I scrambled into the yellow brute and drove away. Automatically I drove to Casey and Ralph’s house. It was very late but the light in their bedroom was still on. I knocked instead of ringing the bell so I wouldn’t wake the kids.

“OhmygodTana!” Casey yelled when she and Ralph opened the door. So much for being quiet. She threw her arms around me and kissed me all over my face. “We’ve been so worried! Runt and Shade are going out of their minds!”

“Yeah? Runt? Really? Can I come in? I need to talk.”

Casey opened the door wide to let me in. Then we both looked at Ralph. “Yeah, I know. Goodnight.” He pecked me on the cheek, kissed Casey on the lips, and trotted off to bed.

“He’s such a good man,” I said before I began to bawl.

Casey and I sat on her couch. In between bawling fits I told her everything. She told me Runt had refused Clyde’s help. Duh, that’s a shocker. Shade was still driving around town looking for monster trucks and going crazy with worry.

The police weren’t involved yet. Casey trusted Ralph and had told him some of the stuff but it was getting harder and harder, she said, to keep him and the other cops out of this.

I told her how I figured Weeba played into it. If it hadn’t been in the middle of the night, Casey and I would have rushed over to Weeba’s apartment. She needed us. She was preggers by a married man.

“You’ve got to call Shade and tell him you’re safe,” Casey said.

He deserved that much. “Please,” I said. “Could you call him? I just can’t talk to him right now.”

“You’re going to have to at some point.”

“I will. At some point. But not now. Not yet.

Reluctantly Casey picked up her phone and dialed.

“Shade, this is Casey. T.R.’s with me here at the house…she’s fine. Wore out more than anything…No, don’t come over. Ralph’s here with us so she’s safe. She needs a bath and sleep. She’ll be here in the morning. Come over about noon…No, I haven’t heard from Runt…I’ll tell her. Bye.”

“He says he loves you. He wanted to come over real bad.”

“How could he be in love me? We’ve only been seeing each other a few days and that hasn’t really been dating. He’s just using me for some reason.”

“T.R., don’t feel that way. I think you’ve been in love with him since you dated in high school. You just wanted more attention than he was capable of giving as a young man. I think he really loves you. And always has.

Yeah, me and every other woman in the State of Texas.

I sat up straight and pulled myself together. “I don’t want to talk about Shade. I need to get back to Sirlo’s and confront Runt. If I catch him red-handed, he can’t deny everything like he’s always done in the past when he’s been caught after the fact.”

“We need a plan,” Casey said. I smiled at the “we” part. No wonder Casey’s been one of my best friends since grade school.

“We need something that shoves it in his face,” I said.

“Yup, and rubs it all around!”

“And we need witnesses,” I said with growing confidence.

“Ah…OK…witnesses. Like in…?” she questioned.

“Like in other folks watching the action. Like in so many folks seeing what Runt’s up to, he can’t lie his way out of it.”

“Ralph?”

“Not unless you want to bet your marriage and I don’t recommend that! I mean lots of folks. Folks that stay up all night and are always looking for action.”

“Oh-h-h-h. You mean poker folker.”

I just smiled and took out my recently retrieved, dilapidated, beeping cell phone.

Thirty minutes of planning and a database text message later, we were ready to go. We both shouted goodbye to Ralph.

“It’s after one o’clock in the morning,” a doubtful Ralph yelled back but we were already on our way out the door. “It’s after one o’clock in the morning, Katie Carol,” we heard again as we jumped into the Hummer, only this time he was cut off by the slamming of the vehicle doors. It wasn’t a good sign that he’d used her whole name.

To be continued.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Eighteen

2009-01-22T09:50:00.000-06:00

Déjà vu is when you feel you’ve been in the same situation before. I don’t know what you call it when you feel you’ve been there three times in a little over twenty-four hours.

There was only one car in the lot now. Tom must have gone home like Runt suggested. All the better. Our plan was solid. Or plain stupid. At this point, it was a toss-up. I slid the big brute of a vehicle next to the remaining car and turned off the motor.

A deep nervous breath filled my lungs and I let it out slowly. I was a little scared our plan wouldn’t work. On second thought, I was very scared. My nerves were shot and I could barely maintain control of my bladder.

I wasn’t scared for me. I was scared for Casey and her part in all this.

“We’ve got to go inside the building for the plan to work,” Casey prodded.

“Yeah, I know.” I turned to Casey. “But I think you should stay here in the Hummer.”

“We’ve been over this twice now, T.R. Once at my house and once on the way over here. I’m going in there with you. You need my help just like you did in second grade when Frankie Williams pushed you into the deep end of the swimming pool. I was by your side then and I’m by your side now. Let’s go.”

Casey held up her little finger.

Slowly, I wrapped my finger around hers and we did our childhood pinkie shake, minus Weeba’s little finger.

“All for one and ice cream for all,” we said together.

I got to the big front door first and pulled the handle. Someone, no doubt Tom, had relocked it after I’d left. I’d love to have seen his face when he realized somebody had unlocked it after he and Runt had entered the building. Of course, with his brain power he might not have even noticed.

Digging into my pocket for the keys, I turned to Casey. She was standing there with a landscaping rock in her hands.

“What are going to do with that?” I whispered.

“I’m going to break the glass so we can get in!”

“I’ve got a better way,” I said, jingling Aunt Lois’ keys in front of her. I unlocked the door and quietly entered the lobby ─ again. Casey hid behind a sofa while I continued down the hall to the now familiar Sirlo office.

I didn’t like being back. And I really didn’t like Casey here. We had to carry out our plan, then get the hell out of Sirlos before anybody found us and blocked the exits. I hated the fact Casey was waiting back in the lobby. If trouble came her way, I wasn’t there to help her.

Halfway down the hall I called Runt’s name.

“Tana?” he called back. I ran into the office, pretending I hadn’t been there earlier.

“OhmygodRunt! Are you alone? Let’s get out of here.” I acted agitated and fearful.

“Tana, how’d you get here?”

“I was kidnapped but I got away and tracked you down here. We’ve got to get out of this building! Now!”

“Uh, Tana, I’m afraid to leave. Tom is somewhere in the building and he has a gun!”

“No, I saw him leave. Come on! Hurry!”

Footsteps echoed in the hall and we both stopped and held our breath, our eyes wide. The steps were faster now. Getting louder. Running towards us.

I turned to face the doorway and pulled the pistol out of my waistband, aiming it with both hands at the hallway. “You’ve got a gun?” Runt asked, astonished, but I ignored him and concentrated on who was racing towards us.

My hands were shaking so hard the gun bobbed up and down. Whoever it was could be tall or short. I had both ranges covered.

But the size turned out to be medium and as luck would have it, that’s where the gun was pointing when my nerves pulled the trigger. The explosion was enormous in the small office.

“JESUSCHRIST,” Runt shouted.

Ohmygod. What had I done?

I looked down at the gun in my hands. Damn! I’d pulled the trigger way too soon! I hadn’t even seen who was coming through the doorway! First rule of hunting: Know what or who you’re shooting.

I forced myself to look up. Casey was standing in the doorway holding her chest with both hands. Blood gushed from under her fingers and oozed down the front of her blouse.

She fell backwards into the hall.

“T.R., IT’S CASEY!” Runt yelled.

“OHMYGOD!CASEY!” I screamed at the same time.

We both ran to her side. I squatted down beside her. Tears rolled down my cheeks and dripped on her face.

Her eyelids fluttered. “Oh, Casey. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I thought you were Tom. I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t mean to shoot you. Don’t die,” I pleaded with her. “Please don’t die. Your babies need you. Ralph needs you. I need you! YOU’RE MY BEST FRIEND!”

She was trying to say something. I leaned closer.

“My babies. My babies. Tell Ralph I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice getting weaker and weaker. “Tell him I love him.”

I looked up into Runt’s eyes, then back at Casey. “I’ve got to stop the bleeding, Casey,” I said. “I’m going to push hard on your chest. Don’t be scared.”

I placed the heel of my right hand on her breastbone and leaned into her but the move only made the blood seep up between my fingers. Horrified, I watched it run under my fake fingernails and settle into the wrinkles of my knuckles. I’d never seen so much blood at one time in all my life.

She groaned weakly. Her eyes closed and her head gently rolled to the side.

“CASEY!” I screamed. “CASEY! CASEY!”

For a full minute I was quiet. “I think she’s dead,” I said. “On my God. I think she’s dead. I killed my best friend.”

“She can’t be dead,” Runt said. “She can’t be dead. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Oh, jeez, T.R. You killed her! You’re a murderer!”

Vaguely I heard more footsteps. Someone else was coming our way. Let it be Tom. I didn’t care anymore.

I looked up to see Doc hurrying towards us. “I heard a gun shot,” he said. Pushing Runt out of the way, Doc dropped down beside Casey. “I’m a doctor. Let me look at her.” He felt for a pulse, then slowly shook his head no.

“I’m sorry.” he said. I fell on Casey’s chest and cried out her name in grief.

I heard another voice. “My name’s Grey. I’m a lawyer. What happened here?”

I looked up at Runt. He had a dazed look on his face and seemed oblivious to Doc and Grey. More people were walking down the hallway towards us.

I looked up at Runt.

“What do I do, Runt?” I asked.

He didn’t say anything.

“Runt! What do I do?” I stood up and grabbed at him for help. Blood from my hands stained his shirt.

“Don’t touch him!” Grey commanded. “You’ll contaminate the crime scene!”

I let go of Runt’s shirt. Tears still traveled down my face, dropping off my chin. “Call Ralph, Runt. Then dial 9-1-1.”

“Damn, I can’t call Ralph.” Runt blank features stirred as he turned his eyes to my face again. “I can’t tell Ralph C-C-Casey’s dead.” He could barely say her name. “Jesuschrist, his wife is dead. I can’t tell a man that.”

“Somebody has to. I want to stay with Casey.”

“No. NO. Not me. Let him call,” he said, looking at Doc. “Or you,” Runt said, turning to Grey. “I’m…I’m….”

“…going to run away?” I asked.

“Yes. NO. Oh, jeez, this wasn’t supposed to happen. It’s all your fault, T.R. Why’d you bring a gun?”

“Bring a gun? I’d been kidnapped, for God’s sake! This is their gun. I had to shoot my way out of there!”

“Shoot them? Did you kill them too? Jeez, T.R., you’ll be locked away forever!”

No, I didn’t kill them. I killed Casey! “They needed to be killed! They kidnapped me! THEY KIDNAPPED ME! Casey was just an accident...I…I didn’t mean to kill Casey.” My voice dropped to a whisper.

“But you did. You’re a murderer. My sister’s a murderer. She did it,” Runt said to the gathering crowd. “She did it,” he repeated loudly.

“And what about you, Runt?” I asked. “I’m all in here. The rest of the game is played cards up. How do you fit into this?” My nose was running and I gave it a quick wipe on my sleeve. “What are you doing here? What are you doing at Sirlo’s?”

“Hey, I’m just a computer geek doing a little job on the side here. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“What about all that stuff you said at the roping arena? All that stuff the other night about the anti-virus program?”

“Hey, you guys just got it all wrong. I don’t know what you thought was happening. It was just a misunderstanding.”

“We need the coroner here,” Doc said.

“And the police,” Grey said. I heard Polly flap her wings behind me. Mother was making a tsk-tsk noise with her tongue.

A woman spoke up but it wasn’t Mother. Sonja? “Javi’s already called’em. He’s a cop.”

Javi a cop?

“Shut up, Sonja,” Javi said. “Murder’s a little out of my league ─ I’m DEA ─ but I put a call in. Detectives will be here in a minute.”

Dante took off his jacket and laid it over Casey’s head and chest. Blood instantly started seeping through the fabric. I hadn’t even seen Dante walk down the hall. I looked from the jacket to Dante, then to Runt.

“Get out, Runt,” I said. “Just get out! Run like you usually do. I’m the murderer, not you. I’ll take care of Casey and clean up your mess as well. Walk away now and leave this town forever. And don’t come back. If you do, I’ll drag you into every piece of trouble I’m in. I’ll lie through my teeth about you and so will Whitey and Shade. You’ll be in so deep you’ll never get out. You thought you had trouble before? Think again.”

Runt looked around at the small group of people gathered in the hall. He didn’t seem surprised to see them there. He looked back at Casey lying on the floor. Blood was pooling by her body, seeping out from under Dante’s jacket. Squatted at her side, holding her bloody hand, I watched Runt step over her and walk down the hall. He hesitated at the front door but didn’t look back.

“Bloody bad boy! Bloody bad boy!” the parrot cried out but no one else said a word. None of us moved. Everyone but me was staring down at Dante’s bloodstained jacket. I looked at the parrot to see if he was looking at Casey too but Polly was staring down the hall after Runt. “Bloody bad boy!” she said again.

To be continued.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Nineteen

2009-01-22T09:45:00.003-06:00

The front door softly hissed closed. There was nothing to see down the hall but I kept looking there, hoping Runt would do the right thing and come back.

A movement on the floor commanded my eyes. Dante’s jacket moved slightly. Casey’s right hand appeared and pulled the blood-soaked coat off her face.

“You guys trying to smother me or something?” she bellyached. “That little turd left five minutes ago!”

We all laughed nervously.

“Just making sure the little turd was really gone, I guess,” Sonja said. “Jeez, you’re a bloody mess.”

“I might be a mess but I’m a damn good actress. And so are you guys. Maybe we should start a community theatre.”

“Naw,” said Javi, putting his arm around Sonja. “That’d cut in to my poker time more than the ladies do. Thanks for the shoutout to fun, T.R., but I left me a winning streak at Sonja’s place and I want to get back to it.” He and Sonja sauntered off, arm and arm. Was Javi really with the DEA or was he bluffing? You just never know about poker folker.

“Javi, you’re always on a winning streak,” said Grey, turning and following them down the hall.

Doc looked down at a smiling Casey. “She was such a pretty girl. Not much in the brains department, but pretty. Too bad she had to die so young.” Casey flung some fake blood at him and he put up his hands in self-defense. “I’m leaving. I’m leaving. My work here is done. See ya, T.R. It was fun.”

“Good bluff, Doc. Thanks, you guys.” I yelled down the hall, “I owe y’all. Drinks are on me.”

“Gee, thanks, T.R. I seem to remember something about drinks always being free where you work!” Grey yelled back, laughing. “Dante, you coming?”

Dante looked at me and shook his head. “You’re too much for a guy to keep up with, T.R. You got more guts than any man I know,” he said. “What with Hold’em. And snakes. And guns. Damn, T.R., datin’ you…well, there’s just too many balls in that bed. And the biggest ones are yours!”

He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek before hurrying after Doc.

I looked at his retreating back, then turned to Casey.

“Were you just dumped?” she asked.

I didn’t know. I didn’t care either. Nothing really mattered to me at the moment.

“That’d be fine with me,” she said. “He made me mad writing you that hot check.”

“Huh. Dumped. At least he put poker first on his big balls’ list. He’ll remember that set-over-set.”

The door shut behind him and except for me and Casey, the big building was empty.

And quiet.

But it wasn’t scary anymore.

I’d been scared since Sloppy was killed but I wasn’t scared now. Mad, yes. Hurt and disappointed, certainly. But I wasn’t frightened anymore.

“Runt, you little turd!” Casey finally said. The faux blood made a sucking noise as she sat up. “Just leavin’ me dead like that! Steppin’ right over me! Too chicken to even go tell my poor husband and babies.”

“A sack of saturated snake shit!” I said, my voice a monotone.

“A pouch of putrefied puppy poopy!” Casey shot back.

“A coop of calcified chicken caca!” I said with a little more feeling.

OK, those were good ones considering we hadn’t played alliteration cursing since we were in middle school and weren’t allowed to use real cuss words.

“I hate to think my own brother could be that hateful. I guess I knew he was low ─ but not that low. He is what he is, I guess. Do we tell Ralph about the role his fake gun and blood played in all this?”

“No way. We’ll not tell Ralph anything. He’ll never let me out of the house again. We going to clean this up?” she asked, looking down at the bloody mess.

“Hell, no. Let Sirlo clean it up. Let him wonder what happened here. Gosh, we’re going to get blood in that pretty yellow Hummer.”

It was too much to hope for that Tom Junior would have to clean up the disaster in the hallway. I knew better. He wouldn’t even have to clean up his mom’s car. But he’d have to face his father some day and clean up that mess. I’d make sure of that with a phone call.

I pulled Casey up off the floor and we walked down the hall together, our red footprints on the carpet growing fainter with each step. Outside Sirlo’s we took a deep breath of hot Texas air. It was over…sort of. I couldn’t help but sneak a couple of looks around to make sure Tom or Eddy weren’t waiting to nab me again. Or Aunt Lois. But Tom was probably home in bed and I definitely knew where Aunt Lois and Eddy were.

“I hope Aunt Lois and Eddy are all right in that tiny bathroom,” I said to Casey. “What if they died in there?”

“Get real, T.R. They’re not going to die there,” she replied. “They’re uncomfortable and it’ll be embarrassing when one of them has to use the bathroom but they’re not going to die there.”

“Yeah, I was just thinking of all the beer they’d drunk. At least they’re related. Maybe I should tell someone they’re trapped there.”

“Yeah, you should ─ tomorrow,” Casey said.

“Right. Tomorrow. First thing. I’ll do just that!” We both laughed.

OK, it was a funny visual of Aunt Lois and Eddy together in that dirty, tiny room. Still I felt sorry for Aunt Lois stuck with stupid, stinky Eddy. Better than me being stuck with stupid, stinky Eddy, though!

“Well, at least Runt’s out of it. Probably way out of it. Knowing him, he’ll run far away. This is trouble so deep even his love for The Barely Legal won’t keep him from riding backwards clear out of the state,” I said.

How Runt would get by in the future I didn’t know or care. The pickle he was in wasn’t my fault. It was all his doing. Besides, he had skills. He just needed to apply them in an appropriate, legal manner. I refused to worry about him, especially after what he put me through this past week.

“Yeah. You were right about needing witnesses. Legally, nothing would have stuck to him, even if Tom Senior wanted to press charges. Everything he did had Tom Junior’s permission all over it. Runt would have gotten off scott free. Again. We’ll have to start calling him Teflon.” Casey paused a moment. “I’m surprised Dante came, though,” she said.

“Me too. Maybe I’m not so dumped after all. Not that I care one way or the other, you understand.”

“Yeah, right. What about Shade?” Casey asked.

Hmmm. Shade. I didn’t know what to do about him.

“Runt. Shade. Dante. Eddy. Tom, both junior and senior. Men! They’re all the same ─ they’re users. I just haven’t figured out Shade’s angle yet.

“My house for clean up,” I told Casey as I started the Hummer. “Good thing it’s dark. We’d give anyone who sees us heart failure. Look at us. We look like we’ve each had a couple of surgical procedures.”

“We have. We cut a little turd out of our lives!”

Yeah. I wouldn’t miss the turd part of Runt but I would miss the little brother part. As far as brothers go, and they usually don’t go too far, he was OK. He was blood kin, my mom’s favorite child, my father’s chip off the old block. But Casey was right ─ mostly he was more a turd than anything else!

“I need to get rid of this Hummer, too,” I told Casey. “My Mustang’s still at Shade’s place.”

“No. It’s in the alley behind our house. Shade still has the duelie though.”

I pulled the yellow beast into my driveway. Casey jumped out but I just sat there for a moment. Home again, home again. Tonight I would sleep under my own sheets with my own pillows. No bogymen under the bed or in the closets.

Of course, that meant no Shade either but that was fine with me. I’d sworn off men forever the minute I overheard Runt say he used me, betrayed my sisterly feelings for him. Coming on the heels of a fifteen hundred dollar H.C. from a guy I’d been dating, and hearing about a sixty-something-year old man taking advantage of my good friend Weeba, I felt I learned my lesson: Men are not to be trusted. Never. Ever. No matter who they are or what they tell you.

I opened the door of the Hummer and stepped out.

To be continued.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Twenty

2009-01-22T09:45:00.002-06:00

A blast of water hit me straight on, almost pushing me back into the vehicle. I put my hands out to protect myself and heard Casey’s evil laughter.

“Hey, T.R., you’re all wet.”

“Casey, you bitch!” I dived for the hose, pulling it away from her and pointing the spray of water right at her chest. She screeched as the cold water hit her.

“Shhh. You’ll wake my neighbors.”

“So? Who they gonna’ call?” she said, as she wrestled me for possession of the hose. “The police? I am the police.”

“Oh, yeah? You’re just a pistol-packing dispatcher!” I twisted her arm, trying to make her let go of the hose. Water sprayed everywhere.

“Ow. Ow. Ow. No fair.” Suddenly Casey stopped struggling and stood looking towards the street. I stopped fighting too. I thought for sure the cops were at the end of the drive but I was facing the opposite direction and couldn’t see what had caught her attention.

“Don’t look now but Runt’s duelie’s pulling into your driveway ─ probably with Shade at the wheel.”

“Oh shucks Miss Minny Mitchell!” I said. I don’t know what that means but my Grandmother Josephine always said that when confronted with bad news.

I didn’t turn around. I walked over to the faucet and turned off the water.

“We can’t let him see us with all this blood. He’ll tell Ralph and Miss Minny will really hit the fan,” Casey said.

I still hadn’t looked Shade’s way. “Casey,” I said. “Look at us. We may be wet but we’re not bloody anymore.”

She took a good look at me, then down at herself and burst out laughing. “Ah…hey,” she said, sobering. “It’s been fun, T.R., but I’m walking home. You two need to be alone.”

“No, wait. I’ll take you. It’s late. It’s the least I can do.”

“No, I’ll walk,” she said. When I protested, she added, “Hey, I’ve got a gun. And I know how to use it.”

“Thanks, Casey, for…you know…for everything.” She gave me a wet hug and started walking down the drive, saying hi to Shade as she passed the truck. Casey only lived a couple of blocks away. I knew she’d be safe. Like she said, she carried a gun, like most Texans ─ at least it seemed to me that most Texans carried guns.

I heard Shade open the truck door and then slam it shut. I ignored him and finished rolling up the water hose.

“T.R.? You all right?”

“Shade, hi…I…I….” What could I say? He put his hands on my shoulders and turned me around to face him. He tried to hug me but I put my hands on his chest and gently pushed him away.

No. “I..I..I’m wet,” I stammered.

“I don’t care. I’ve been so worried. I’ve driven up and down every street in this town lookin’ for you or a monster truck with flames. Toni said they were lime green but you can’t always believe what she says.”

He tried again to pull me close but again I resisted.

Damn, Runt! You jerk! You spoiled everything with your stupid tricks. You even spoiled what I almost had with Shade. How could I ever trust any man again? How could I ever believe a man when he tells me he loves me? I wanted to. And maybe I would eventually. But to love a man meant I had to trust him and I couldn’t right now.

“Listen, Shade. I’ve had a rough twenty-four hours. I just want to go into my own house and get into my own bed.”

“Then let’s go, Pokerface.”

“No. By myself. You see Runt…. I mean…he…he….” My voice died out.

I tried again.

“Shit…you see…Runt…he…he….” I searched for words to explain about Runt, to describe the events of the night, but it would take a couple of hours to replay all that had transpired at the warehouse and Sirlo’s offices, let alone verbalize the bubbling cauldron of my emotions ─ which I hadn’t even sorted out myself.

“You trying to tell me this mess with Runt is cleared up? That it’s all over?”

I nodded my head yes.

“Nobody’s after you anymore? You’re safe?”

Again I moved my head up and down.

“Thank God,” he said, putting his finger on my chin.

“No, Shade. Not now. Not tonight.”

“Pokerface, we’ll get though this. You and I together.”

“No, Shade. Not together. I need to get through this by myself. I need time alone. I need to find me again. I don’t need you to fix me.”

I needed to find my heart again and somehow forgive Runt. I knew I couldn’t move on until I did. I needed to get back to being a loving and trustful friend and family member. My mind was too full of emotion right now and I couldn’t forgive Runt with Shade by my side. He’d want to handle all my problems for me.

I needed to handle my own problems, in my own way, even if my way was totally wrong. At least it would be my way.

“So you want me to just walk away.” He dropped his finger down to my breastbone.

“Yeah, pretty much. That’s what I want. For now. For tonight. For however long it takes.”

At least that was what I thought I wanted tonight. I knew tomorrow I might hate myself for sending him away but I had to live in the now. Right now. And that’s what I wanted right now.

“Do you realize what you could be losing? We might both move on, go our separate ways, as they say. We might not be able to get back together again…this time.”

“Shade…I…Shade…Oh. Go. Just go. Some of it’s been fun and I really appreciate what you’ve done trying to help me. And to help Runt. But it’s over. It’s finally over.”

“I can’t believe this. It’s been fun, but it’s done, huh?” He smiled at me, a sad, wistful smile, not the arrogant Shade-smile. My mind flitted to my memory of how safe I’d felt with him holding me on the hot, burned earth. Shade taking my hand as we worked our way through the landmines of truck mirrors at the roping arena. The Shade-kiss behind the police station.

“I’m not happy about this, T.R., but I know better than to argue with you,” he said. “Every time I let you into my life, you walk away from me. Tana, a guy can only take so much rejection, can only wait around so long, then he’s…” Shade lifted his hands into the air, palms up. “…gone. Damn, I can’t believe this!”

I heard a car door slam somewhere out on the street. A cat meowed over the fence. A breeze rustled the leaves in the trees around us.

I sucked on my upper lip, trying to keep my emotions in check. I had been through so much in the last several days. I was afraid if I showed one emotion, the rest would come tumbling out after it and I’d cry all night. All tomorrow. All next week. I’d be a total train wreck. Right then I could hold myself together but if he didn’t leave….

His finger drew a line down my cleavage.

“Ahem.” Someone cleared his throat nearby. I jumped at the noise and Shade jerked his finger away from my breasts.

We’d thought we were alone.

“Am I interrupting anything?” Dante asked.

“As a matter of fact, you are. Get lost.” Shade said, turning his gaze back to me. Shade might charm the women but his charisma didn’t seem to extend to Dante.

A full minute passed but Dante didn’t move. He was still leaning against my house, arms folded in front of him. Finally he spoke up.

“I came to apologize to T.R. about something I said at Sirlo’s tonight when this thing with Runt went down.”

“He was there?” Shade asked me. He didn’t bother to give Dante a look. “He was there when all this crap came down on you and Runt?” The hurt in his eyes made the pain in my heart turn a different twist. Shade took a half step away from me.

Well, this was what I wanted, I thought to myself, what I needed. For Shade to back off and let me lead my own life in my own way. But I didn’t want to hurt him. I wanted to be able to change my mind. Woman do, you know.

“Don’t worry, Shade. The flack all came down on Runt,” Dante said. “No fallout hit T.R. I was there to make sure of that!”

“Sh..Sh..Shade,” I stammered. “It’s not like it seems. Dante was there but….”

Shade stepped backwards again. This time a full step.

“But it’s not like I invited him.”

“That’s not what my text message said, T.R.,” Dante spoke up again. I looked his way and the self-satisfied grin on his face told me he was enjoying the torment Shade was going through.

“Dante, damn it.” I looked back at Shade. “Shade, I didn’t just TM him. I TM’d all my regulars for help. Dante was just one of several poker folker who responded to the message.”

“Just one of the guys, T.R.? That’s all I mean to you? What about that kiss at Texas Way the other night?” Dante asked.

Shit! The dirty look I shot Dante should have knocked him on his backside. Damn him!

“You were at Texas Way the other night? You told me you were with Casey and going to the movies. And you kissed this creep? You wanted his help instead of mine?” Shade spoke very fast and sounded totally wounded. Suddenly he didn’t seem ten-feet tall and bullet proof anymore. He seemed normal for once. Normal and hurt. Not the kind of man urban myths are created around. Just a guy whose life wasn’t going the way he thought it should be going.

“I…I did go to the show with Casey. T-T-That was after Casey dropped me off at Texas Way. I just went to Moss’ to collect some money Dante owed me. Tonight I didn’t have time to text message everyone personally,” I explained to them both.

“I just needed witnesses….” My voice dribbled off.

Well, I wanted to be alone. If this conversation didn’t chase both men off, I didn’t know what would. Why didn’t I feel good about the way this whole situation was going down?

“Let’s get back to the kissing part.” Shade jerked his thumb Dante’s way.

I shot a look at Dante, hating him for making a bigger mess out of this than Runt already had. Dante still had that same grin on his face. I remembered how good his kiss was. Not chocha-catch-on-fire great, but still very good. I also remembered how great Dant smelled and how good I felt after the kiss.

God, I was so mixed up!

“Well, it was just one kiss.” I defended myself. “Exactly the same number of times you’ve kissed me lately, Shade, not counting that strictly-for-show one at the roping arena the other day. What right do you have to be jealous?”

“Jealous? Me?” he protested but then long seconds passed where none of us said a word, none of us moved. Finally, I walked between the two men towards the house. Both of them reached out and took hold of my arms, a man on each side of me.

There I was, soaking wet, suspended between Shade and Dante. I looked from one to the other and they respectfully removed their hands from me at the same time. I almost feel over.

Both Dante and Shade made another grab at me. This time their hands touched.

“Shit!” they both said and jerked their hands away from the male contact. Over my head each man gave the other a guy look, one that said, “Mine!”

“Don’t you have some place you have to be?” Dante asked Shade.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Shade asked Dante.

“You sleepin’ with him?” they both asked me at the same time.

“Sure!” I responded. “I’m sleeping with both of you. On alternating days!”

They both knew that the part of my statement concerning each of them was untrue. I hoped they’d realize it was also a lie about the other guy as well. Being they were both so macho, I probably shouldn’t have held my breathe waiting for them to figure that out.

Like I cared what they thought!

Dante took me by the neck of my shirt and pulled me backwards so I wouldn’t be between the two men. The tug plopped me down on my butt in the wet.

They squared off, as men do right before they take on one another in a fight over something stupid.

“I think she was giving you the brush off when I interrupted you two,” Dante commented. His chest was puffed out and his hands had turned into fists.

“Well, I don’t see her inviting you in for a beer.” Shade swelled up like a rooster in a cock fight, which wasn’t too far off the mark for them.

I held my breath, waiting for them to come to blows. I hoped I was keeping the smile off my face. Part of me was delighted at the prospect of a fight. Men have never fought over me. I’ve always been one the boys myself, sort of a sister to guys. It was exciting to have these two studs going at each other, chest to chest.

Jeez, what was I thinking. I struggled to get to my feet in the wet grass.

“Ca-rap, you guys. We’re not in high school anymore. If you two have to fight, it won’t be about me. I’m going to bed.”

That stopped them in their tracks.

Shade took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His fists uncurled and became fingers again. He reached out and lifted my chin and made me look him in the eye.

“OK, you’re right. This isn’t between me and Dante. This is between you and me. Like you said, the fun is done. I’ll respect your wishes,” Shade said. He paused and swallowed hard.

“You’ll love somebody someday, Pokerface. You’ll love’em so much you won’t let’em walk away from you. It might not be me, damn it. And it won’t be this jerk,” he added with a look towards Dante. “But it’ll be somebody, I guarantee it. And you’ll know when you’re ready for love. Yeah, you’ll know. You’ll see the signs a mile off. Good thing Texas is mostly flatland.

“I’ll have a couple of my men return Runt’s truck tomorrow.” He paused again as he looked at the big yellow beast in the driveway. “Whose Hummer is that?” he asked.

“It’s a long story.” I was grateful things had turned civil again but my feelings were still very confused. It was good to focus on the Hummer. I was clear about my feelings towards the bright brute. “Could you have your men return it to Sirlo’s when they bring me Runt’s truck tomorrow? I don’t want to see those people again.”

“Sure.” He started to walk away.

“Oh. Wait.”

Shade turned his face back to me and lifted an eyebrow hopefully. “When your men return the Hummer, could they do it in the morning so they could go by Sirlo’s warehouse? There’s a monster truck in there that needs to be moved. It’s sort of blocking the door of a bathroom and…ah…er…there’s some people kind of stuck in there.”

“Ta-a-n-n-a-a Ro-o-s-s-e?”

“Morning’s soon enough. Honest. I’d bet on it.”

“I’ll bet you would. I love you, T.R. I always have. I hope I always will.” Shade turned and walked away. Not even a Shade-goodbye-kiss.

“See ya around, Shade,” Dante said, all arrogance and attitude.

“Go home, Dante!” I said and walked into my house, slamming the door behind me so both men would know the night was over, at least the part of their night that involved me. Leaning against the back door, I waited until I heard two truck doors slam and two vehicles take off down the street.

Damn, I never even told him that I loved him.

I wondered to myself which man I meant.

To be continued.

SHUFFLE, Chapter Twenty-One

2009-01-22T09:15:00.000-06:00

For three months I dragged myself out of bed to deal Hold’em at Whitey’s and then dragged myself back home to bed again. I literally forced myself to pretend to be living my life but all I lived for was sleep, total oblivion. I was disappointed in life in general and men in particular.

My poker table was no longer the most popular one in Central Texas. I had lost my edge and attitude. I couldn’t even get my hair to spike anymore. Whitey and Angelina hovered over me like I was their ailing child, and I guess I was sick ─ sick at heart.

Dante came in several times. He had that old glint in his eye but I didn’t glint back.

“Hey,” he said. “How’s my girl?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I replied. “What’s her name?”

“Now, T.R. Be nice. How ya doing?”

I continued messing with my tip chips and didn’t say anything.

“Making conversation sure is hard with you lately, T.R. Usually it’s a give and take thing, ya know. I ask you a question. You answer, then ask me a question. Then I answer. You get it? Let’s try it again. I heard Runt left town. What do you hear from him?”

“Nothing. Not a damn thing.”

The morning after I shot Casey, Runt had sneaked onto Shade’s ranch to get back his big duelie. Then he loaded his horses into a neighbor’s trailer and rode backwards into Texas.

All his horses except Tonto. Whitey heard that Runt sold his supposedly beloved pinto to someone he met at the roping arena, probably that man I saw him talking to.

Damn that brother of mine! He didn’t even have any loyalty to dumb animals, selling Tonto to that stranger. I would have loved to have that horse. I did get his dogs, though. Runt dropped off Bud and Red in my back yard that same night.

Mom and Dad are paying his bills at The Barely Legal until they hear from him. They’re also buying the neighbor a new horse trailer. As usual, Dad said boys will be boys and things couldn’t have been as bad as I thought they were.

Want to bet on that?

Don’t they wonder why they don’t hear from him? Not having children, I guess I just don’t understand the kind of unconditional love they have for my brother. Parental blindness to everything except dealing poker, I guess. Go figure.

“See? That’s a little better,” Dante said, pleased that I had tersely answered his question. “Conversation’s easy. Next question. What’s Shade up to? I haven’t seen him since the night we almost got into a fight over you.”

Dante reached over and ran his fingers through my hair, trying to get it to stand up but it just flopped back down again. I slapped his hand away.

“Don’t touch the dealer!” I said, making up the new rule.

“Hey, that’s not conversation,” he responded. “Answer my question.”

“Shade? I’ve only seen him once since then myself,” I replied. “He came in a couple of weeks ago and played a few hands. Didn’t stay long.”

“What’d he have to say?”

“Nothing. Not a word.” What was there to say?

“He probably left here to go to Snoopy’s,” I said.

“Nah,” said Dante. “Sonja said she hasn’t seen him either.”

“Well, she should know.”

“So. With Shade out of the picture, you available again?” Dante asked.

“He never was in the picture. You just thought he was.”

“He thought he was too. That’s not what I asked. The question was, are you available?”

I wrinkled my nose and shot him a dirty look. “You sitting at my table to talk or to play Hold’em? If it’s to play poker, buy yourself some chips ─ with cash.”

“Girl, you hold a grudge against a man for a long time, don’t ya? Hmmm. Not available yet, I take it. Well, welders are patience guys. They wait until the temperature heats up just right before they apply their tool.”

“Good grief, Dante,” the man next to him said. “That’s disgusting!”

“Hey, just telling the truth about my trade. Take it any way you want.”

“Buy chips or move on, Dante,” I said.

“What happened to the snake-handler that beat me set-over-set? She was real sexy. You know, that wild girl with the big balls?”

The guy next to him gave him another weird look. If the man hadn’t had such a big pile of chips in front of him, I’m sure he would have moved away from Dante to another table.

“That was my twin,” I said abruptly. “She left.”

And so did Dante, after tossing ten hundred dollar bills on the table to clear his hot check debt. “I’ll be in touch,” he said, as he walked away. “You can bet on that.” I didn’t even look up.

I justified my abruptness with the rationalization I was doing him a favor, because, to tell the truth, Whitey’s room is a little too high-dollar for Dante. He earns good money, just not good enough for Whitey’s poker room. Him with little welder’s burn holes all over his clothes Even his dress clothes, although I don’t know how he manages to do that.

Casey was the only person I really wanted to talk to but, after all, she had a family and a job of her own to deal with. And, anyway, you might say she’d already given at the office ─ Sirlo’s office.

I couldn’t talk to Weeba about my problems. She was so happy and I didn’t want to bring her down. It turned out she’s totally delighted with her situation. So is Sirlo Senior.

Casey and I went to see Weeba at her apartment a couple of days after Runt left town. When we knocked on the door, it was opened by a very attractive, white haired, older man I took to be Tom Senior himself. I definitely could see what caught Weeba’s attention. She picked a doozy to finally look in the eye and show her chickchismo, even if he did look totally out of place in Weeba’s bland digs. Let’s face it. The man was slumming in this neighborhood.

“May I help you?” he asked. I couldn’t help but think he could almost be our grandfather ─ if he’d had a baby early in life and that child reproduced early too. OK, maybe I was pushing that a little bit. Of course, I could also see how losing this sophisticated man could drive poor Aunt Lois crazy. But maybe she was crazy before he went astray with Weeba. Jeez, I’m totally confused about other people’s relationships, let alone my own.

“We’re here to see Weeba,” I said. I thought I might as well get the introductions over with as soon as possible. “I’m T.R. and this is Casey. You must be Tom.” Meeting him under any other circumstances I would have called him Mr. Sirlo. As Weeba’s beau, he was just Tom.

Tom Senior just stared at me and I knew he was trying to think of something to say. I’d called him the day after all the action hit his place and told him everything as I saw it. He was quiet on the phone. Unbelieving, really. I gave him a couple of facts he could check out that would verify my account of the story.

Hadn’t he wondered how I knew about all that red on the carpet that morning? Didn’t he worry about who had squished his wife and nephew into his warehouse bathroom with his own son’s monster truck? OK, he probably didn’t really care about that one.

Oh, well. Believe me or not, Senior. At least it’s over for me. My part in his mess was done. Except for the Weeba part. She’s my friend, now, yesterday, and tomorrow.

Weeba came up behind him. She looked pale and distraught, like we’d caught her in the act of doing the deed itself.

Nobody said a word. Finally Casey broke the awkward silence. “Congratulations! I mean about you two having a baby.”

Casey shot me a look that said, if you’re wrong about this, I’m going to kill you. I shot her one back that said, if I’m wrong, what’s Senior doing here.

Weeba burst into tears and everybody started talking at once.

“Dear, come sit on the settee,” said Tom Senior. Settee? OK, that word alone proves he’s too old for her. But, hey, at least she has a love life. Unlike me.

“I hope those are happy tears,” said Casey, handing Weeba the box of tissue that was on a nearby table. “But then, I remember what all those baby-related hormones do to your emotions.”

“Jeez, Weeba,” I said. “I thought you were a virgin.” Ca-rap! Why’d I go and say that?

Casey let out a hoot. Weeba started laughing through her tears. Tom just looked bewildered.

“You’ll get used to T.R., Tom,” Weeba said. “But it’ll take a while. Guys, I tried to tell you two about the baby a hundred times. I was afraid of what you’d think about me. I’m so sorry.” She started to cry again.

Tom was sitting on her right, patting her hand. Casey sat down on her left. “What’s there to be sorry about?” she asked. You don’t need to apologize to us.”

“I’m just so ashamed,” Weeba wailed.

“Ashamed! What’s there to be ashamed about?” I asked.

Another wail went up from Weeba. “I’m pregnant by a married man?”

“Hey,” I said. “In most people’s book, getting preggers by another woman’s husband is a step up from being an underground poker dealer. You’ll get no judgment from me.”

“Nor me,” said Casey. Tom Senior leaned over and kissed Weeba on the ear.

Weeba gave a weak smile. “I just could never find the right time to tell you so I let you guys go on thinking I had the flu.” She took a hold of Tom’s hand. “We’ve known for quit awhile. I just didn’t think you guys would find out and come tell me I was pregnant!”

Conversation paused and Weeba cocked her head at us. “How did you guys find out I was pregnant?”

Apparently Senior was keeping Weeba out of the loop about the latest happenings. I assumed he would tell her everything. Guess not.

“T.R.,” Tom said. It was the first time he’d spoken to me. “I’m not much good in the kitchen. Would you help me make iced tea for everybody?”

“Sure, Tom.” I looked at Weeba. “We live in a big small town, girlfriend.” She smiled at me and nodded her head, accepting the explanation.

As Tom and I walked into the kitchen, I heard Casey start in on wedding plans for the prospective parents. She was carried away by the romance of it all ─ and the tons of money involved. If she has her way, it’ll be the wedding of the century. And, of course, it will mean a new wedding tradition. Weeba will need two maids of honor ─ one to hold the bouquet and one to hold the baby.

Me? I won’t need any maids of honor. I’m never getting married. I’m never falling in love again. I doubt I’ll even fall in like.

Kissing’s OK, though. Kissing’s good.

“I am so sorry for all you had to go through, T.R.,” Tom said as he put a kettle full of water on the stove. “I can’t possibly make it up to you. But I want to thank you for…for…everything but especially for not upsetting Weeba with all of this. Being unwed and pregnant hasn’t been easy for her.”

“Sure.” I thought of a couple of hundred cutting remarks I would have made if he had been someone our own age. But he wasn’t and for once in my life I kept my mouth shut.

“But at some point you’ll have to tell her about all this,” I told him. “I wasn’t exaggerating when I told Weeba this is a small town. She’ll hear about it from someone and if that someone isn’t you, she’ll lose faith in you. She’ll give you back that big diamond ring real fast.”

I was guessing about the ring. I hadn’t noticed one but I felt sure if it wasn’t on her finger, it was safely tucked away in a drawer in her bedroom.

“She’s stubborn,” I continued. “Stubborn enough to raise this kid on a dry cleaner clerk’s salary. Do you want visits with the baby on the first and third weekends of the month or the second and fourth weekends?”

Senior passed his hand through his hair and studied on what I’d said. I could tell he knew I was right. Finally, he nodded his head and picked up two of the glasses of tea we’d been making. I grabbed the other two and we went back to the living room. He sat down beside Weeba again.

“Dear,” he said. I could only imagine my response if Shade or Dante started a conversation with me like that. But then I’m not Weeba. And Shade’s not speaking to me and I’m not speaking to Dante.

“Maybe we’d better go,” I said to Casey.

“No. Please. Stay,” Tom said. “You can help me with the details.”

Weeba looked from Senior to me and back again.

“Dear,” Senior started again and he actually got a long way into the story all by himself. He told her about how Lois ─ somehow she’ll always be Aunt Lois to me ─ recruited Runt to bypass the biometric security system at his company and do a little computer digging. He didn’t gloss over his son’s part in the problem, or his nephew’s. Or what had happened to me. I’d have to fill her in later on Shade. And Toni. And Dante.

He told her about my little old phone call to him and how I had given him a head’s up on the computer mess. He’d hired expert help to get it fixed. Believe it or not, Runt’s program actually was helpful to the company in the long run, he said, although neither he nor I were technical enough ─ OK, I’m not technical at all ─ to tell anybody how exactly it was helpful.

At least Sirlo’s had gotten rid of a major virus ─ Tom Junior. Senior said Junior left town unexpectedly and must have taken Eddy with him because nobody he knows has heard a word from either one of them.

He told us lots of other stuff I’d been wondering about as he sat there holding a stunned Weeba’s hand. Consuelo had gone back to Mexico as she had planned to do anyway but she went with a bonus in her pocket, which she hadn’t planned on. She’d given Senior an earful since she’d seen quite a bit during her night shifts at Sirlo’s.

Senior also told me that Aunt Lois and Eddy were rescued by Shade’s men from the warehouse bathroom the morning after I locked them in there. She was furious, as you can imagine, and promised all kinds of hell upon me, Tom Senior, and Weeba, especially after someone told her Weeba and I were best friends. Luckily, Senior committed her to a loony bin way over in West Texas before she could carry out any of her threats.

I bet she has the cleanest, best-pressed wardrobe of all the patients there.

We drank our iced tea and Weeba told Casey and me that she’d quit her job at the cleaners and that Tom had bought her a grand house in an extremely nice part of town. They’d be moving in soon.

With a promise of marriage on her finger ─ and a big promise it was, five whole carats worth ─ she was looking forward to motherhood and being Mrs. Sirlo the Second, after, of course, Mrs. Sirlo the First was out of the picture. Their marriage wouldn’t be too soon, though. The baby would be born by the time the divorce was final and they could get hitched.

It was another month before Weeba started feeling better. By then the poor wallflower of Bryan High School was living large with the man of her dreams. Casey was back to her pure life, the one that was the nuts.

Me? It took awhile for me to get back to what I call normal. One afternoon I rolled over in bed, felt Red Bull’s warm body next to me, and moaned, waking myself up. “Shade,” I said, before I had a chance to think. I sat up in bed and realized my brain had cleared of its toxic fog. My heart was beating pure blood again instead of a lethal mix of contaminated distrust and poisonous hate.

For the first time in a long time I felt human. The world appeared bright again. I looked around my little house, saw the filth and clutter I’d been living in lately, and started cleaning. I showered, spiked my hair, and sat down on the living room couch with a cold beer.

Something was missing from my life. Oh, I still had my house, my Mustang, my addiction to dealing poker. I had adopted Red and Bud and loved them greatly. But something deep inside me was missing.

The missing part wasn’t Runt. I was totally better off with that no good brother of mine completely out of Texas. Well, I guess he was out of Texas. He was certainly out of my life.

It wasn’t sex I was missing. I’d gone without sex before and for longer periods of time than this. OK, I’ve never really had a lot sex and definitely no good sex. Yet.

No, that missing something was Shade.

I smiled when I thought of him standing on the trash can at my bathroom window and wagging his finger at me. How he first told me he loved me. I’d seen him drive by my house a couple of times and I wondered if he still felt the same way about me.

When I was trying to say goodbye, he’d told me there’d be a sign to tell me when I was ready to love again. Well, calling the warm body of Red “Shade” was my sign and I knew I was ready for that cowboy to come back into my life. I wondered if he needed some sort of sign too.

I got up off the couch and went to the garage, the dogs at my heels. I took two old garage sale signs, stapled them worded sides together, and nailed them to a tomato stake.

With a large magic marker I wrote:

Saddle maker wanted.

Must play poker.

Apply within.

I took the sign out to my front yard and hammered it into the lawn. The dogs and I stood back to admire my work.

It needed something else. I took the marker out of my shirt pocket and printed again on the sign:

Immediate opening!

Lord, yes.

The End!