Long Range (Joe Pickett Book 20)(62)

“There are other bottles to choose from,” Candy said.

“There are,” Missy said as she nudged the door closed with her knee. “But I choose this one.”

She was the type of woman, Candy thought, who did what she wanted and expected others to comply. It was incongruous how tiny she was physically. A stiff wind might blow her over. Candy was a head taller and fit. Candy knew that if it came down to it, she could throw Missy out the front door without much of a problem. Missy was an example of an outdated kind of beauty that was all about sublime and delicate slimness. The thought of putting her hands on the woman, though, was simply inconceivable.

Missy expertly removed the cork from the cabernet using the German precision tool Candy often struggled with. Then Missy tossed the last of the wine she’d poured earlier into the sink as if it were bilge water. After rinsing her glass clean, Missy poured a full glass of the cabernet and tasted it. She closed her eyes as she did so and smiled.

“It’s good.”

“It was a special bottle.”

“And this,” Missy said, while raising her glass toward Candy, “is a special occasion.”

“What special occasion?”

“I’m here to save my husband’s life.”

“What?”

“My,” Missy said, “you’re cute. But you’re dim, aren’t you?”

“Please,” Candy said, “tell me what you want with him.”

“Call your boyfriend,” Missy said. “Tell him I want to talk with him.”

“And if I don’t?” Candy asked.

“You’ll wish you did,” Missy said with pursed lips, as if the very thought of the potential consequences was distasteful even to her.

*

TOM WAS OUT OF BREATH when he answered his cell phone. He was also clearly angry.

“How many times have I told you not to call me at work?” he asked.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Candy said. “But there’s a situation here at the house. This older woman showed up here and she absolutely demands to talk with you.”

Tom said, “Who is she?”

Candy turned away from Missy, who was listening carefully from her perch at the breakfast bar. She lowered her voice and said, “She says her name is Missy Hand and that you’re expecting her.”

“Oh.”

“She says she absolutely won’t go away until she talks to you. She says the two of you have business of some kind.”

He hesitated. She imagined him stopping in mid-stride and thinking it over. Tom was always in a hurry, rushing from place to place. That he didn’t immediately deny knowing Missy or why she was there surprised Candy.

Finally, Tom said, “I completely forgot she was coming over today. There has been so much going on . . .”

“You knew she was going to show up here?” Candy asked, hurt. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t know where we’d meet,” Tom said. “But never mind that. I didn’t expect her to just show up at my house.”

My house, Tom had said. Not our house. Not even the house.

“Give me the phone,” Missy said to Candy. She’d slipped off her stool and was right behind her.

“Tell her I’ll call her tonight,” Tom said.

“I tried. She says she has to talk with you and she’s not leaving until she does.”

“I’m probably not leaving even then,” Missy said with a light laugh. “I don’t know where you got that.”

“Tom, what is this all about?” Candy asked. She was exasperated. “Why does this woman just show up here like this?”

Tom didn’t reply.

In Candy’s ear, Missy said, “This woman? This woman? I’d be offended if I didn’t think you were just a run-of-the-mill yoga floozy.”

That was more than Candy could take. She was now just as angry with Tom as she was with Missy. They’d put her in the middle of . . . something.

“Here,” Candy said, thrusting the phone to Missy.

When Missy took it, Candy stormed across the room and stood behind the breakfast bar as if guarding it.

She listened as Missy said, “Did you forget about me? I’m not really accustomed to being forgotten.”

Candy could hear Tom stammering something. He was obviously apologizing. As he did, Missy half listened and topped off her glass. Then she opened her small purse with one hand and drew out a dainty card. It looked like the kind of stationery wealthy old people sent thank-you notes on, Candy thought.

Missy said to Tom, “Do I need to go over the list with you again or do you have it on you?”

When Tom apparently asked her to remind him, Missy said, “Forgive me if I mispronounce some of the names. You people exist in a world of your own with your own special language. But here we go: oxaliplatin, leucovorin, irinotecan, and 5-fluorouracil. Do you need me to repeat that?”

Candy had no idea what she was talking about. She’d never heard any of the terms used before.

After a long pause, Missy said, “And you’re sure you have them all?”

When Tom replied, Missy nodded her head and said, “Good. That’s wonderful. I’ll wait for you here and, yes, I’ve got your fee. You said cash and that’s what I brought. Money is really the last thing I’m worried about right now.”