Earth to Emily (20 page)

“We having a good, old-fashion St. Marcos Christmas dinner, New Mexico style.” Ava lifted a serving dish over her head, which hiked her fitted black top up nearly to the bottom of her breasts. “Johnnycakes.”

I watched from where I sat at one of the kitchen table’s chairs as Ava slunk toward me, carving a path through the small crowd gathered in the kitchen with the sway of her hips in a short black skirt that matched her top. She set it on the table in front of me. Snowflake put her paws on one of the chairs, trying to get a closer sniff—or a bite—from the serving dish. The fried West Indian bread smelled delicious, but, then again, anything fried smelled good to me.

Collin crossed his arms over his chest, which emphasized that he’d had a lot of time to work out since Tamara had broken off their engagement. “I’ll have whatever you’re cooking, Ava.”

His blue eyes glittered and his serious expression didn’t quite hide his trademark grin. I was relieved his eyes were glittering over someone besides me this visit. His short-cropped
Top Gun
hair had grown out some, and for the first time I saw streaks of gray in it. Even Tom Cruise had to grow older some time.

Ava chuptzed him, long and loud, a teeth-sucking act of derision perfected by those in the West Indies. She sauntered back into the kitchen, where Jack was stirring something in a tall pot. Collin, no stranger to the chuptz from his time on St. Marcos, laughed.

“You want some of what I cooking, you best get in the kitchen and help,” she said.

Now everyone laughed, and Collin ran the few steps to join her.

She swatted him with a towel, then picked up a knife and pointed it at several chickens, fried whole. “Carve.”

He bowed, took the knife, and set to work. I had planned to offer help, but there was no way I was entering that kitchen with Jack and Collin in it. I’d set the table earlier. That would have to be my contribution.

Judith had arrived after I came downstairs, and she walked to the counter and poured a glass of Pinot Gris from the Wines of the San Juan. From behind her, it struck me how much of her long black hair was shot with steel gray. Today she wore it at the base of her neck in a silver clasp with turquoise, red, and black stones. It was a formal look, in fitting with her old-fashioned straight brown suede skirt and its matching beaded blouse.

She turned to me. “You want some wine?”

“A small one, thank you.” I joined her at the counter and took the glass she offered. “How are things at the home office?” I asked, referring to Jack’s adobe office in Tularosa, where she had worked since she followed him there from the DA’s office in Alamogordo.

She took a sip of wine so small that she appeared to absorb it into her tongue instead of swallowing it. Shades of my mother. “Busy. It’s a good thing Jack couldn’t represent anyone in the indictments from the Paul Johnson mess, because that tied up all the other local attorneys. Everything else is coming to us.”

Although Johnson had—briefly, and under false pretenses—retained Jack, Johnson’s men had kidnapped me and assaulted Betsy’s father, who died on Jack’s land when he was attempting to escape. That made Jack and me both witnesses and conflicted our firm out. The conflict didn’t only extend to Johnson, who Jack wouldn’t have defended anyway, but to anyone involved in the sordid affairs.

Judith added, “Plus with the work coming out of Amarillo, it’s a lot. I told him I might need help if this keeps up.”

Without discussing it, Judith and I moved away from the counter and out to the great room. The sky still loomed gray and low, but even dreary it looked spectacular viewed through the east-facing floor-to-high-ceiling windows that stretched across one entire side of the room. I took a sip of the Pinot Gris and savored it. It tasted of pear and some kind of citrus.

“I can’t believe you’d let someone else handle anything.” I was teasing, sort of. Judith hadn’t taken kindly to Jack sharing their load with me, at first.

She nodded, her black eyes grave. “It would be a last resort.”

I put a hand over my mouth and cleared my throat to cover a laugh.

Remembering that Judith’s brother once worked at Johnson’s Ranch as an electrician, I asked, “Say, does your brother still do any work out at Johnson’s place?”

She absorbed another few drops of her wine and then shook her head. “It’s deserted. They froze all Johnson’s assets, you know, and the judge didn’t allow bail.”

“I was afraid of that. I’m looking for something of Betsy’s, and I need to see if it’s out there.”

“They have big padlocks on everything. At least that’s what people say.”

It wouldn’t hurt to swing by and check. Jarhead would enjoy the exercise. I mentally scheduled it for first thing the next day. But I kept those thoughts to myself. Judith and I chatted some about pending cases until Jack ushered everyone into the kitchen for dinner.

We had all gathered noisily—Judith and me, Mickey and Laura, the kids, Ava, and Collin—but quieted at once when Jack held a finger in the air.

“Thanks everyone for celebrating with us. Mickey, will you bless the food?” Jack said.

Mickey cleared his throat. “Join hands, please.” He closed his eyes and bowed his head. As he prayed aloud, I snuck a peek at Jack. His eyes were on me.
Cheater
, I thought, then realized my eyes were as open as his. I closed them. Mickey finished, and together we all said, “Amen.”

“And thank you for bringing these two very special young people into our lives,” Mickey added.

Laura stood between Greg and Farrah, holding one hand of each. The two kids looked embarrassed, like they couldn’t believe Mickey had singled them out. Laura’s eyes watered and she laughed and made a show of wiping her eyes. Mickey walked over and hugged her, then patted each teen on the back.

Voices quickly covered the silence following Mickey’s blessing, and I heaped my plate with beans and rice, sweet-potato casserole, and johnnycake. I took the plate into the living room and perched on the couch with my plate balanced on my knees. Jack sat down next to me. His knees, boots, and long legs created a higher, more angled tabletop for his plate, and he struggled with it, then gave up and put his plate on the coffee table. I tried not to look at him, but it was hard when he was all my heart could see, and it made me mad at myself and him.

The living room continued to fill. Ava sat on my other side, Collin took a seat catty-cornered from her, and Mickey put his plate on the stone hearth in front of us. The chimney extended to the ceiling behind him, the enormous rocks appearing as if they would tumble onto his head at any moment. The voices of Laura, Judith, and the kids still rang out from the kitchen, but I could barely hear them over the Christmas music someone had turned on. Mariah Carey: “All I Want For Christmas Is You.” My very favorite Christmas song. Sadness welled inside me that my dad, Jack, and their big, fat secrets had tarnished this day. I sucked in a deep breath of air through my nose. I didn’t need to let it impact anyone else’s night, though.

Jack set his silverware on the table. Snowflake eyed him hopefully, then moved on to me. I pinched a small piece of johnnycake and held it out. She took it from my fingers in a lunge, like a trout to a fly, and gulped it down.

Jack said, “Collin, we’re hoping to enlist your help with a problem we’ve been having here.”

Collin had just taken a giant bite of rice and beans. He chewed with wide eyes and circled his hand by his mouth to show he was hurrying. Everyone but me laughed. When he’d swallowed, he said, “Of course, buddy. I owe you a big one, for, ahem, taking advantage of your hospitality last time.”

“Actually, the problem seems bigger than Wrong Turn Ranch.”

Mickey stood and paced. “I feel responsible, and stupid. A few weeks ago, someone made off with a load of our stuff. Someone who had a good idea of what was valuable and enough about us to know when to get to it, where, and how to get it out fast.” He looked at Jack, then stopped talking.

Jack nodded. “She knows.”

I bristled.
Yes, finally, she knows.

Mickey took a deep breath. “At first we thought it was an inside job. We’d brought on an ex-con—”

“My father.” Everyone’s heads whipped around at me, and I realized I’d cut Mickey off. Loudly.

Mickey sighed. “Yes. Johnny Phelps. Emily’s dad. I all but accused him, and, later that night, he disappeared.”

Jack put his hand on my knee, and I flinched. His warm eyes met my cold ones, and he removed it. “Then Emily and I ran across some of the stolen Wrong Turn Ranch items at ABC Half-Price Resale in Amarillo. Our client is the owner. He admitted he’s been selling stolen merchandise.”

Collin rubbed his chin. “Somebody’s been a bad boy, smuggling stolen goods across state lines.”

“Yesterday Phelps called me,” Mickey said. “Told me he didn’t do it, gave me the license plate number of a blue sedan out here the day of the robbery, and hinted at a connection to some dangerous people. Said he had to figure out a way for it not to come back on him before he’d tell me more.”

I shoved my plate onto the coffee table and turned to glare at Jack.

He threw his hands up. “I tried to tell you earlier.”

“Define
earlier
.” I realized I had something to tell him, too, though, and I changed gears. “Wait a sec. I have the license plate number of a truck that dropped off a shipment at ABC Half-Price Resale.” Snowflake slunk to Jack’s feet and curled up, trembling. The poor thing hated conflict.

It was Jack’s turn to glare at me, left eyebrow arched. “When did you get that?”

My head bobbed sideways a little. “When I bought your Christmas present, Jack Ass,” I said, with a tad too much emphasis on the Ass part. The room went so quiet I could hear the ringing in my ears. I didn’t dare look around, for fear of what I’d see in people’s eyes. I closed my own for a split second to steady my frayed nerves. “Then Burrows showed up and dragged me away.”

Jack’s olive face turned a crimson hue. He spit out his words like fish bones stuck in his throat. “Do tell.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.” Collin shook his head. “Slow down here. You’ve got the license plate of a vehicle being used in the smuggling?”

I opened my mouth, shut it, then opened it again to speak. “I don’t know. Maybe.” I pulled up the photo and handed it to him.

“New Mexico plates.” Collin typed keystrokes on my phone. “I’m texting it to myself.”

I felt silly. I hadn’t noticed the plates in the dark, and I hadn’t even looked at the picture since I’d taken it, what with everything that had been going on, until now.

“Send it to me, Collin.” Jack clenched his jaw. “Since Emily didn’t.” Snowflake huddled closer to her master, her eyes wide and fixed on him.

I put my plate back in my lap. Under its cover, I flexed the fingers of my left hand, then clenched them closed, then did it again, and again, and again.

Collin nodded and typed some more. He handed me back my phone. “Done. Emily, tell us the rest.”

Everyone stared at me, rapt. Great. How to tell everything that had happened in the last few days without giving up the moral high ground with Jack? I told myself that it was different. He kept secrets from me that should have been mine. The secrets I kept from him weren’t really his. Or were only kinda sorta his. Some of them. Ugh. This wasn’t going to go well.

“The night before we entered Alan’s plea—”

Jack interrupted. “Monday night.”

“Yes. Monday night I went to do some last-minute Christmas shopping at ABC Half-Price Resale, Alan’s store. The woman at the register—”

He interrupted again. “Alan’s wife?”

“I didn’t know that at the time, but yes. Anyway, I asked the woman I later learned was Alan’s wife, Janelle, whether Alan was there, and she said he was out back, and she looked upset. So I thought I’d get a picture of the truck’s plates for
you
, in case it was the smuggler, and I went around back and took one.”

“Just like that.”

“There might have been a little more to it than that, but nothing relevant.”

“Okay.”

“Then, I was hiding behind a dumpster, when—”

“Reckless.”

I jumped up. “If you don’t stop interrupting me, we’re all going to die of old age before I finish telling you the story.” I looked around. This time all the eyes on me shifted away from mine. Ava’s were gleaming. Collin’s were twinkling. Judith’s looked uncomfortable. And Mickey’s told me he felt guilty. Good. He should.

“Fine.” Jack threw his hand out at me in a “go on” sort of way.

“Fine.” I huffed a deep breath in and out. “Alan was back there. He was talking to the driver and someone else.” I looked around the room. “Alan is our client in Amarillo, who supposedly assaulted a cop but says he didn’t. He took a plea bargain, so we aren’t sure. Anyway, I couldn’t see him, and then the driver walked out in the alley. The driver was short and kind of skinny but I didn’t get a good look at him. He drove off. Alan and the other guy disappeared, and Officer Burrows showed up and made me leave.”

“Made you leave?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“He told me to butt out of police business and that I was going to get myself killed.”

Jack snorted.

Collin said, “He sounds like an intelligent guy.”

“Ha ha,” I said. “Except that he told me to meet him somewhere private. When I got there—”

Jack shouted, “When you
what?
”

“When I got there.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

I turned away from him. “As I was trying to say, when I got there, he was weird. He all but admitted he’d been following me.”

Jack made another loud noise, but I didn’t stop. Snowflake had buried her head under her paws and looked like she needed a Valium.

“Because earlier that day, when I was at the orthodontist’s office, he showed up there, too. And of course he showed up to arrest me when Mary Alice Hodges called on the wrath of God.”

“Arrested you?” Collin asked. The corners of his lips curved up millimeters short of a grin.

“Long story.” One I didn’t want to relive. “It was all very mysterious, and then a security guard banged on the car, and Burrows left.” I paused to take a drink of water.