Weekend Warriors (Sisterhood #1)(53)

The women stood outside the truck, the rain beating down on them. Their arms stretched out till they formed a tight little circle. No one said a word.

Kathryn climbed into the truck. She waved. “I’ll see you all in five days.”





The CB was in Kathryn’s hand the minute she crossed the state line into Kansas. “This is Big Sis. You there, Bugle Beagle?”

“I’m here, Sis. Where you been? Had a call out to you.”

“I know, Bugle, but stuff started caving in on me and I had to split for a while. Went off to Bermuda for some down time. What’s up, Bugle? The messages sounded urgent.”

A bird swooped down and flew across the windshield. Murphy let out an ear-splitting bark and lunged at the window. “Shhh, boy, it was just a bird. Sorry, Bugle.”

“The guy said he was a district attorney in the District. You know my feelings on the law and how they hound you guys. Said it was important and you should call right away. I didn’t tell him squat. You better give him a call. What’d you do with the dog when you went to Bermuda?”

Dog. Oh shit. Screwup number five, or was it six? Bile rose up to her throat. “I left him with a friend in San Francisco. Why?”

“No reason. I like dogs. You said he was the best thing that happened to you after Al died. Listen, drive with the angels and I’ll keep in touch. You carrying lettuce or squash?”

“Romaine lettuce. I got two extra boxes if you want some.”

“Nah. I hate rabbit food. I’m a steak and potatoes man. Take care, Sis.”

“You, too, Bugle. Over and out.”

She reached over behind Murphy and dialed Myra’s number on the special cell phone. “Hi,” she said in a shaky voice. “I just crossed the line into Kansas and called the dispatcher in Roanoke because the D.A. back there has been trying to get in touch with me. We had a nice talk. He wanted to know what I did with Murphy when I went to Bermuda. Imagine that.”

“Why don’t I put Charles on the phone, Kathryn?”

“That sounds good.”

“Kathryn, it’s so nice to talk to you again. Mike Daniels drove from Sacramento to San Francisco to pick up your dog. He lives at 3055 Fifth Avenue in Sacramento. He dropped him off at the airport when you landed.”

“Thanks. See you in a few days.” Kathryn clicked off the power and then clicked it back on. She dialed the number Jack Emery had given Bugle. She punched in the extension and waited.

“Jack Emery here.”

“Mr. Emery, this is Kathryn Lucas. I understand you’ve been trying to reach me. I just got your message.”

“You just got it! I thought you truckers lived on your CBs.”

Kathryn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Some do, some don’t. I don’t. The reason I just got your message was I just returned from Bermuda. I needed some time to…think. I know you had no way of knowing this, but my husband just passed away recently. I needed to get away. What is it you want from me, Mr. Emery?”

“Did you make a delivery to Myra Rutledge and did you stay overnight and sleep in your truck while it was parked at her estate?”

“Why are you asking me these questions? Technically you’re the police. I didn’t do anything wrong. Hell, the woman hasn’t even paid for the stuff I dropped off.”

“What did you drop off?”

“First I think you better tell me why you want to know.”

“I’m the one asking the questions, Ms. Lucas.”

“And I’m the one that isn’t answering. If there’s nothing else, Mr. Emery, I’m going to hang up. I need to pay attention to the road. By the way, I’m in Kansas.”

“When do you expect to hit Virginia?”

“Three days, four at the most. I have to drop off some lettuce in North Carolina.”

“I’d like you to stop by my offices when you get here.”

“Again, Mr. Emery, why? Look, if those bathroom fixtures are defective it has nothing to do with me. I just pick up and deliver. You’re making this sound like I need a lawyer. If I do, I’ll give you her name now and you can take this all up with her. I might be picking up a load of pine straw in North Carolina so I can’t say for sure where I’ll be. She’ll know how to get in touch with me.”

“Okay, what’s her name? You did say her, didn’t you?”

“Nicole Quinn. Her office is on G Street. If there’s nothing else, I have to sign off here.” Kathryn allowed a smile to tug at the corners of her mouth when she heard him curse under his breath. She broke the connection and tossed the cell phone on the seat next to Murphy. He nudged it until it was behind him. He stretched out, his tennis ball between his paws.

Kathryn yanked at the baseball cap that said Lucas Trucking, settling it more firmly on her head. She adjusted her sunglasses and concentrated on the road in front of her as she tried to imagine what Clark Wagstaff, Sam La Fond and Sid Lee were doing. Murphy slept on the seat next to her.





Jack Emery stared at the phone on his desk. His heart pounded in his chest when he bellowed for his assistant. “Harry, get on the horn with Judge Olsen. I want a court order to impound Kathryn Lucas’s truck. The minute she crosses the state line into Virginia, I want that truck snatched. I don’t give a shit what’s inside it. And while you’re at it, put out an all-points on her. Pick it up yourself and get it to me as soon as you can. Why are you still sitting there? When I tell you to move your ass, I mean move your ass. Now, goddamn it!”