Chapter 21 #2
“Svengali,” Louise corrected. “Yes, our neighbor is definitely one of those. He’s got some sort of hold on her.”
“Women are stupid when it comes to men,” said Zona. Herself included.
Why was the redhead back? Zona sat down at the table in a seat facing the window, and randomly picked up a puzzle piece.
“I hope she doesn’t stay,” said Louise.
“At least she’s not dead.”
“Yet. That man has suppressed violence. Oh, my gosh. Look.”
Louise didn’t have to tell Zona to look. She already was. The front door of Alec James’s house burst open and ejected the redhead. It was obvious that she was crying as she ran to her car.
There it was again, the ugly side of Alec James.
“Don’t you be giving him any more lemonade,” Louise cautioned as the PT Cruiser backed out of the driveway at top speed. “Or cookies. And no more dog training. We want nothing to do with that man.”
They certainly didn’t.
Louise’s friend Susan was coming over for dinner and cards, and the doorbell rang, announcing her arrival.
Zona opened the door and let her in. Darling was on hand to greet her but settled for plopping down and thumping his tail on the floor when Zona stepped in front of him and commanded him to sit.
Alec James would have been proud of both of them.
Svengali James.
“I brought appetizers,” Susan said.
“Those look great,” said Zona, eyeballing the plate of stuffed mushrooms.
“We’ll save you a couple,” Susan said as she walked to the table, Darling trotting along beside her.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Louise said.
“These look great. Let me try one.” Susan held out the plate and Louise plucked a mushroom from it and took a bite.
“Oooh, yum.” Darling moved next to her, looking longingly at what was left in her hand.
“No, these are not for you. Zona, will you get him a treat?”
“So, what’s new with the neighbor?” Susan was asking when Zona returned. She’d picked up a puzzle piece and was searching for its spot in the half-formed picture of a dog.
“The woman who was with him returned,” Louise informed her. “But she didn’t stay. We think he hit her.”
What was this we stuff? “Mom,” Zona scolded. If they weren’t careful, they were going to be back to Louise checking the man’s yard for fresh bones.
Seeing what was in Zona’s hand, Darling forgot his lessons and jumped on her. “Down,” she commanded, and walked him back onto all fours, then made him sit before giving him his treat.
“I said we think.”
“You think,” Zona corrected her. “And you need to stop thinking.”
Louise ignored the scold and bit into another mushroom. Then closed her eyes and groaned. “So good.”
“Okay, I’m getting one now. Mom’s right. There won’t be any left by the time I get back,” Zona said and sampled a mushroom. It was delicious, and she half wished she could stay home and play cards and eat curried chicken salad and stuffed mushrooms. “These are great,” she told Susan.
“Stay and help us eat them,” Louise urged. “You could use a break.”
“I could use money more. You two have fun. I’ll be back by midnight.”
“Don’t hurry on my account,” said Susan. “I’m staying until I win at Hands and Buns. Which means I could be here until dawn.”
Zona chuckled as she went to get her purse and keys. When it came to games, Susan was competitive.
She was also a loyal friend. She would stand guard over Louise for Zona, even if Zona was out all night. Of course, so would Carol. And Martin. And even Gilda.
It was probably a good thing Susan had invited herself over for fun though. If Zona had brought Gilda over, she’d have seen the latest goings-on next door and egged Louise on in jumping to conclusions.
Except was it jumping to see a woman running crying from a house, obviously upset, and suspect some sort of cruelty was behind it?
His truck was still parked in his driveway when Zona got into her car. What had gone on over there? None of her business, that was what.
Her car still smelled faintly of eau de barf, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been. Keeping the windows down as much as possible would help. The night was warm. Maybe some of her passengers would enjoy fresh air.
And then again, maybe not. “Can you roll up your window?” asked a fifty-something woman with a carefully crafted hairstyle.
“Of course,” Zona murmured and hoped the woman’s olfactory glands weren’t working.
They were. “What’s that smell?”
Zona could see the wrinkled nose and downturned mouth in her rearview mirror.
She decided feigning ignorance was her best bet. “Do you smell something?”
The woman frowned at her. “Never mind. Let the window back down or I’m going to be sick.”
The last thing Zona needed was a repeat of that.
“You really should do something about the smell,” the woman said to her before getting out of the car.
Zona had a strong suspicion there would be no tip coming from that passenger.
She wasn’t sure how many more passengers she wanted to pick up. The car still appeared to be running rough in spite of its new air filter. She’d go home and switch cars.
She decided to first take one more fare at the Ontario airport, since she was already close. The passenger was headed to Azusa, which would be almost to home for her anyway.
Her passenger was easy to spot as she pulled up to the passenger load area.
He was checking his phone and the cars pulling up.
He wore jeans, boots, and a fringed brown suede jacket.
A messenger bag was slung across his chest and he had a small carry-on suitcase.
A California cowboy. He wasn’t very tall and he wasn’t very big, but he was cute in a boy-next-door sort of way, with curly brown hair.
Had to be single or there would have been someone meeting him.
“Well, hello there,” he said happily when she let down the window to confirm that he was her passenger.
Great. A Mr. Friendly. He’d talk her ear off all the way to his destination.
He tossed his luggage in the back seat, then climbed into the front passenger seat. There were no rules against it, but unless it was a party of three, people almost always took the back seat as a sort of courtesy. Zona wished she’d seen that coming. Too late though. There he was.
“This is a nice surprise,” he said. “A hot HopIn driver.”
Ugh. This man obviously considered himself a player and the last thing she needed was him up in front next to her, practicing his moves. She wished she wasn’t stuck with him all the way to Azusa. She managed a polite smile but said nothing.
“So, you live around here?”
“Not really,” she said.
“But sort of? You must live somewhere nearby. Hey, maybe you live in Azusa, like me. What’s your name?”
“Sorry, that’s classified information,” she said.
“Ha, ha. If you told me, you’d have to kill me, right?”
“That’s it,” she said.
“So, you’re probably really a spy and this is your cover. You like working undercover?”
If this smarmy double entendre kept up, there would be more barfing in her car. “You must be a comic.”
“I’ve been told I’m pretty funny,” he said. “Seriously, what’s a pretty woman like you doing working as a HopIn driver?”
“Earning money, like all the rest of the world,” she said.
Her stony tone of voice should have been a clue. Mr. California Cowboy wasn’t good at picking up clues. “Maybe we were meant to meet. You know, like in one of those chick movies.”
“Or maybe you just needed a ride home from the airport.”
“A pretty woman like you shouldn’t have to be driving strange men around.”
Like you?
“Why don’t you have a sugar daddy taking care of you?”
“Not into sugar daddies,” she said, then added, “Not into men.” That ought to shut him up.
“Oh, come on now. You’re not into women. I can tell.”
She frowned at him. “I think this conversation needs to end.”
“Just trying to be friendly,” he grumbled, and settled into a pout.
Good. Maybe he’d pout all the way to his destination.
He didn’t. They were almost to the freeway exit when he tried again. “I’m really a nice guy.”
Good for you. She probably wasn’t going to get a big tip from this man, but there was no sense reducing bad tip to no tip, so she kept her smart remark to herself.
Instead, she said, “I’m sure you have more than one woman in your life who’s crazy about you.” Flattery and diplomacy, good job, Zona.
“Yeah, but I haven’t met the one. You know?”
There was no the one. She’d found that out the hard way.
“But maybe I have. Right here, tonight.”
“Sorry, not interested.”
“I know how to show a woman a good time.”
“I bet there’s somebody waiting right now for you to call her.”
“There’s not. Honest.”
They got off the freeway and started down Grand Avenue. Another ten minutes and she’d be rid of him.
“No, really. There’s no one,” he said.
They stopped at a signal. He stretched out his arm and rested his hand on the top of her seat. She could feel her blood pressure rising. If this little Twinkie put his hand on her shoulder, he was going to lose it.
“I think you’d better keep your hand on your side of the car,” she said sternly.
“Hey, just stretching,” he said with a frown, and pulled it back.
The signal turned green and she put her foot on the gas to move the car forward. The car said, No. Not going anywhere.
Oh, no. No, no, no. She pushed again.
Still not moving, said the car.
“What’s going on with your car?” demanded her passenger.
“Crap,” muttered Zona, and tried again.
You are out of luck, said the car.