Chapter Eight
I was in a better mood now that I had money in the bank. It wasn’t like I was completely broke but I could now pay my rent and cable with money left to buy a Coke.
I was on another dirt road looking for my next address in Gardener. What is it with the Foyt family? Why couldn’t more of them live on paved roads? The home I was looking for turned out to be a mobile home and looked fairly new, at least it seemed that way to me. I wasn’t an expert on mobile homes; the only ones I saw were traveling on highways when I was in a hurry.
A silver truck was parked nearby but no vehicles in the driveway. That didn’t mean no one was home, so I knocked and waited. No one came, so I knocked louder and waited. No one answered. I walked around the back to check the back yard and noticed a big round concrete propane tank with a few emaciated trees and a yard surrounded by a chain linked fence. Rose bushes and other flowering bushes were planted near the house, so I was sure it was bright and fragrant in the spring and summer. The land beyond the fence were fields. I couldn’t tell if it had been cleared for cattle or farming. I saw a tractor but no rows for plants. I know it was January but if it were for planting, rows or at least dirt would be visible. Wouldn’t it be? I have no idea. I live in town. My parents and grandparents live in town. I did know the tractor could be there for bush hogging the grass. It really didn’t make any difference what was going on in that field. I just didn’t have anything better to do than to daydream about the big green tractor.
Frustrated, I walked to my truck and grabbed my list. I was determined to find at least a crumb of evidence of the blasted painting. I must have been getting hungry if I was thinking about crumbs. I drove toward the next address and stopped at a Burger King when my phone rang. The caller ID read new call; it was probably a wrong number or someone looking for Alexandria Animal Clinic. One of us should change our number. I suggested it to them; they weren’t amused.
“Hello?” I said as pleasant as I could with a mouth full of Jr. Whopper.
“Hey, sugar buns; have you seen any more gun-toting idiots or rabid dogs?”
I choked and coughed. Rick? How did he get my number? Oh, God. Did he just call me sugar buns? “No, but it’s still early. I still have hope. How did you get my number?” Pause. “Did you just call me sugar buns?” I should be horrified, stunned, dumbfounded, but oddly wasn’t. It was more of a…Huh?
“I told Cody I needed to put the lab’s number in my phone while he went to the bathroom.” He had the nicest voice. Deep, yet smooth. What was I doing?
“So you lied because you already had the lab’s number. You didn’t explain sugar buns,” I said trying to sound pissed off.
“Yeah, I lied and thought sugar buns sounded better than sugar butt,” he said with a laugh.
“Ugh,” I said. “I don’t think I like either one of them. But if you call me sugar buns, does that mean I can call you sugar nuts?” I said laughing.
“Nope. You don’t know me that well. Yet. I, on the other hand, can see you have a nice butt,” he said sounding sexy. I have a nice butt? This couldn’t be good. I mean, he had a body of a god, lean and muscular, but that was beside the point. I looked down at the whopper and thought maybe I shouldn’t be eating this.
“There can’t be a yet or ever, and you know it. Isn’t it some kind of by-law that says partners or unit buddies can’t date sisters or ex-girlfriends?” I asked while checking out the uniformed men walking into the restaurant. Gardener was near Fort Polk, a large Army Base. “Wow.”
“It isn’t written in stone or an oath I had to take before becoming a cop. What’s wow? You’re thinking about me?”
“I am in Gardener you know. This place is crawling with Army guys. One just came in with a nice little bird on his collar,” I said smiling. I knew he couldn’t see it, but I’m sure he could tell.
“Are you flirting with a colonel?” He didn’t sound like he was flirting anymore. I guess he caught the fact I ignored his comment about thinking about him.
“No, he’s flirting with me. Should I ignore him or wink back?” The colonel was actually ignoring me; he only glanced at me. He had several young men saluting him and groveling all over him. He also had to be at least sixty. I wonder if his memory is going and he forgot to retire.
“I have to go, Cody’s coming back.” He didn’t sound like a happy camper. I wondered if I’d gone too far. What difference did it make? We weren’t going to go out anyway.
“Oh, my bad. The Colonel wasn’t winking at me he was winking at another woman. Talk about embarrassing. I think one of his underlings just threw his wrist out of socket waving me off. I think I’ll wave back.” Rick was chuckling. “Uh oh, I’m supposed to use all of my fingers to wave, huh? Do you think it’s a bad thing he just jammed his nice green beret on his head? Oh, crap, now several are jamming them on their head.”
“Are you walking off? Is someone calling you?” He was laughing out loud now. “Is someone calling you ma’am? Did you just flip off a group of Green Berets?”
“Yeah. I’ll tell you about it later. I have work to do, come to think about it, I may never tell you because I hate you.” I had walked out of Burger King and was running to my truck without looking back. I didn’t want to be placed into the brig. Wait, the Navy had a brig. What did the Army have? I didn’t want to find out. It wasn’t like it was my fault. I was minding my own business sitting there in a public place talking on my phone when this elderly gentleman started winking at me. I, of course, being the well-mannered woman that I am, winked back. How did I know the man was winking at his wife through the window? Why would a Colonel meet his wife at Burger King? I thought his minions were going to have a stroke; one was waving me off while the other was shoving me out of my chair. I swear I can’t take me anywhere.
I was driving back to the empty house when my phone rang. Cody. Probably asking why Rick was calling me sugar buns.
“Hey, Cody,” I answered very innocently.
“Hey, how’s it going?” He sounded calm, so maybe he didn’t know.
“Fine. Is that Rick I hear laughing?” I asked. Great. Maybe he did know.
“Yeah. I walked back from the bathroom, and he was laughing at someone on his phone. He disconnected and said something about flipping off a bunch of Green Berets. I think he was talking to some buddies or something. So anyway, no rabid dogs?” Thank goodness he didn’t know it was me that flipped off men who were trained to kill people with one hand.
“No dogs, but it’s early yet. I may still run into something that bites or is that someone? Ooh, that could be interesting.” I could hear Rick giggle something about telling me to be careful around Army guys; they have rabies. He was so funny. It was a good thing he wasn’t standing near me; I would have had to shoot him. He already knew I didn’t have a problem with holding a gun on him.
Cody was laughing too about something, I couldn’t understand him because he had moved the phone away from his mouth, so I yelled to get his attention. “Cody! I hate you.” I disconnected. I left him to his giggle fest. If he asks me if I hung up on him, I’d just tell him I must have lost service.
I arrived at the empty mobile home. I still didn’t see a car out front but I walked up to the door to knock. Nope. No one was home. I walked around back again. I wanted to humor myself by checking out the backyard. This really was a great yard; a swing would have been nice under the trees.
I heard a gunshot and ran behind the nearest protection. My heart was beating out of my chest, oh no, oh no. I looked around me. NOOOOO! I was hiding behind the propane tank. I ran behind a tree and felt the bark from the tree scrape my arm. I was behind one of those emaciated trees. Shit! The only thing it protected was my spine. What to do? What to do?
I called 9-1-1. “Nine-one-one, what is your name and emergency?”
“Chloe Babineaux. I’m being shot at!” Another shot. “Ahhh! Did you hear that? I’m at…oh damn. Where am I?” I couldn’t think. I was shaking, hard.
&n
bsp; “Ma’am, calm down. Are you hurt?” Said the calm, female voice on the phone.
“No, no, not yet. I’m in Gardener. Yeah, that’s it. I’m on uh…Phillips Road. Yeah, I’m at uh…uh…” I couldn’t remember the address. “Just come to Phillips Road. There’s just one house on the road.” Another shot. I felt the wind in my hair.
“Ahhh! I’ve gotta run; I’m too close to the…” I ran to get farther away from the propane tank. I was running leaning forward, staying low. I had taken several steps when the propane tank blew. The explosion threw me a few feet in the air, and I fell hard, sliding on my stomach and elbows. The heat singed my skin, and the fall took my breath away.
I stayed spread eagle for several minutes then heard someone yelling. “Miss Babineaux! Chloe, are you there? Answer me! What was that? Chloe!” It was the calm person from 9-1-1. Only she didn’t sound so calm now. I don’t know how long she had been calling my name. I hadn’t blacked out; I just couldn’t hear because of the loud, deafening blast from behind me.
I don’t know how I was still holding onto my phone, but I was. I put it to my ear and said barely audible with a shaky voice. “Yeah, I’m here. Could you send the fire department too? A propane tank just exploded. This can’t be good.”
“Chloe, thank God. Are you hurt?” Relief from my 9-1-1 woman.
“No, I don’t think so. Wait, let me see.” I sat up and groaned. “Nothing feels broken. I just…” I couldn’t hear her that well my ears were ringing.
“Ma’am, the fire department, police, and an EMT are on their way. Don’t move. Please don’t move and don’t hang up until they get there.”
“I hear them, thanks, I have to go now. I have to call my brother,” I said with my voice still shaking. I heard sirens, or it could have been my ears ringing.
I called Cody. Thank goodness he was the last person to call me, so I just pushed a couple of buttons.
“Cody?” I said with a low, husky, shaky voice.
“Chloe, I can’t talk right now. I’ll call you back,” he said hurriedly.
“Oh, okay. That’s fine. No problem,” I was starting to hyperventilate.
“Chloe, do I hear sirens? Are you okay? Did you shoot someone?” He asked only half joking.
“I’m okay. I’m not hurt anyway. A propane tank blew up. Someone shot it. But…”
“What?” He talked over me. “Where are you? Are you still in Gardener?” He asked concern poured through the phone. “Rick, are you through over there?” He asked Rick moving the phone away from his mouth.
“I’m in Gardner. Oh… I have to go now the cops are here.”
“Wait. Let me talk to them,” he yelled before I could disconnect the phone. I handed the cop the phone, who then gave his name to Cody. I quit paying attention after that.
The fire dept and EMTs arrived. My blood pressure was taken, and I was checked to make sure I had no broken bones and had the scrapes on my arms bandaged. My knees were bruised but not scraped. Two people helped me onto a gurney, strapped me down and stuck an IV in my arm. They were asking questions about medicines and allergies. The cop had placed my phone in the front pocket of my jeans so I wouldn’t lose it and said something about my brother meeting me at the hospital. I was really shaking hard and only paying half attention. I laid on the gurney watching all the action around me. I was happy to be alive but confused on why I was. Alive.
It felt as though everything was moving slowly and oddly quiet when another cop walked up to me smiled and told me his name.
“Hi, I’m Sgt. Kawasaki, tell me what happened here.” He was smiling, but it wasn’t a real smile. He looked more like he was in pain. If smiling hurt that much maybe he should stop smiling.
“I’m not sure. I’m a private investigator. I was hired to locate a missing family painting. Are you in pain?”
“No. Did your client report it stolen?” he asked while taking notes. He had answered me like he gets the pain question often.
“No, it’s not stolen. A family member most likely has it. I don’t even think it’s worth anything. It’s just a painting.”
“Then why were you hired to find it?”
“My client just wants to know if it’s safe. You know, not in somebody’s garage collecting dust and termites.” I paused and then added, “And mold. If it’s in a garage, it’s probably gathering mold.”
“Then why would someone take pot shots at you?” He was writing while looking at me. I wish I could do that.
“I don’t know. When I find out, I’ll let you know.” I must be feeling better because I was flippant.
“Okay, okay. Come down to the station tomorrow and file a report,” he said, scowling. I bet that was his normal expression. The smile just didn’t look natural, and he looked like he was in less pain.
“Alright.” My head was spinning, and I was still hearing bells ringing. “I’ll be there.” He nodded for the EMTs to push me inside the ambulance.
We were about to leave when I heard someone call my name and pound on the door. Was that my 9-1-1 woman? No, this was a man’s voice. The EMT with me called for the driver to stop and opened the door. I tried to sit up, but I had been strapped down.
“Chloe! Chloe! Wait, don’t leave yet,” Cody and Rick were shouting.
“Are you hurt?” Cody asked when the door opened.
“Where are you taking her?” Rick asked.
“Rapides General,” answered the charming EMT. There were two men and the one in the back was saving my life. Was I dying? I didn’t think so. But what did I know?
“Okay, great.” Cody turned to Rick and said, “You drive the car, and I’ll drive her truck, and we’ll meet at the hospital.
“No problem. Let’s go.” Rick looked at me, winked, and then turned to go.
I must have been in shock because I was reading way too much into that wink.