Last Chance Book Club(45)
Author: Hope Ramsay

It wasn’t a number he recognized.

He checked his missed calls. There were more than a dozen from this same number.

He pressed the talk button. “Dash Randall.” His voice sounded gruff. His throat was still thick with emotions he was working overtime to keep contained.

“Finally,” a male voice said.

“Who’s speaking?”

“This is Andrew Prior of Prior, Jacobson, and Howard.”

The investigation company Dash had hired weeks ago. He’d almost forgotten.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t pick up before.” He pressed the heel of his right hand into his right eye.

“Mr. Randall, we’ve just discovered something that you need to know.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s about Gregory White, the man you asked us to investigate.”

“Yes.”

“Well, he’s a deadbeat, but that’s hardly very interesting. He’s behind on all his bills, and he spends a lot of time at Pimlico. He’s also at least a year in arrears on his child support payments, which makes him a scumbag. But that’s not the most important thing.”

Dash straightened, the knot in his throat easing. “What else?”

“We didn’t figure it out until today. Back on April thirteenth, he had lunch with someone at McCormick and Schmick’s in Baltimore. We didn’t know who the guy was. We have photos, though.”

“Yeah. Tell me it was a Mafia don.”

“Sorry. It wasn’t anything that dramatic. But we finally figured out that the guy in the photo is John Rodgers, the principal of JBR Construction of Allenberg County. White’s been in South Carolina for the last few days, and he stopped by the offices of JBR. And then we realized that JBR was the contractor on the job when the fire was started. We haven’t been able to find any link between White and the snake incident, but since that happened before we were retained, I’m not that surprised.”

“April thirteenth, you said?”

“Yes, that’s a week before the arson at the theater. And near as we can tell, John Rodgers doesn’t have any reason to be in Baltimore. He’s never traveled there before or since.”

“You have a photo?”

“I do. Would you like me to e-mail it?”

“Yeah, right away.”

They ended the conversation.

He stood up and started pacing the lobby. It seemed to take forever for that photo to arrive. The minute it hit his inbox, he forwarded it to Stone Rhodes, the Allenberg sheriff.

Stone called him before Dash could finish dialing the number. “Did you get the photo I just sent?” Dash asked.

“No, I didn’t. I was calling to let you know that we’ve got a lead in the snake mystery. We think those snakes were purchased at Jungle Jim’s Reptile World on Long Island. It turns out there aren’t a whole lot of places where someone could buy a diamondback rattlesnake, so we were able to track down most of the dealers and review the purchases made in the weeks prior to the incident. It’s very unusual for someone to buy two diamondbacks, but we found someone who did. He used a credit card, and he has a rap sheet a mile long.”

“Who bought them?”

“His name is Nathan Martel, but he prefers to be called ‘New York Nate.’ He’s a pool hustler. We haven’t figured out a connection between this guy and Savannah, though.”

“I think I can help you. Savannah’s ex-husband regularly participates in pool tournaments. So Greg would probably know a few hustlers. And what’s more, I just sent you a photo of John Rodgers having lunch with Savannah’s ex. It was taken in Baltimore about a week before the fire. I’ll bet you Greg White paid Rodgers to set that fire, and he probably got this New York Nate person to arrange for the snakes.”

“So you think this is just some kind of domestic dispute between Savannah and her ex?” Stone asked.

“I don’t know, to tell you the truth. I have a theory, though. I think Greg White is a gambler. I’ve heard Todd talk about how he plays pool a lot. And according to my private investigator, Greg is behind on all his bills as well as his child support, even though he’s a partner in a fancy law firm.”

“So Savannah was playing hardball with him and he got mad at her?” Stone asked.

“No, that’s not what I’m thinking. I’ll bet Greg’s well-heeled mother has been bailing him out on his gambling debts. But this time, she told him he needed to get Savannah to bring Todd back to Baltimore as a condition for any further financial help. Claire White would use any means to get her mitts on Todd. She’s even got the South Carolina Department of Social Services on my case.”

“What?”

It took a lot for Dash to say the next words, but he forced them out. “They want to call me a pedophile.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Dash, everyone in town knows you’re not some kind of predator. Jeez, these people are evil. I’m glad Savannah and Todd escaped.”

Dash’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, and he realized that he was going to be okay. The local law was on his side, and probably always had been.

“I’m looking at the picture you sent right now,” Stone said. “I guess I need to go down to JBR tomorrow and have a little chat with John Rodgers. And I think I need to call the Baltimore police, too. Thanks, Dash, and… I’m sorry about what happened. You know I have to chase down every lead.”

“It’s okay, Stone. I know. And everyone in town is happy that we finally have a sheriff who knows what he’s doing.”

Dash disconnected and headed for the janitor’s closet, where he washed his face.

He looked down at Champ, who stood at his feet with a smiling face and a happy tail.

He laughed. “I guess I do know what Uncle Earnest would have done,” he said to the dog.

How many times had Uncle Earnest told him to believe in the goodness of people? How many times had he also said that when the road seemed impassable you just had to trust in God and pray?

“Thank you,” he whispered as he turned off the lights and locked the door. And in that moment it almost seemed like Uncle Earnest was right there with him. Like a guardian angel or something.

Savannah folded her last sweater and zipped up the suitcase. Tomorrow at this time, she would be unpacking in Claire’s big house in the Roland Park section of Baltimore.

It depressed her to think about it. Claire had a cook who didn’t like Savannah messing around in her kitchen. And even after Savannah found an apartment, there wouldn’t be a crowd to cook for.

There wouldn’t be frog jumps, Easter dances, or Watermelon Festivals. She wouldn’t have friends at the book club or The Knit & Stitch. She wouldn’t be able to go to the theater every day and see it rising from the ruins. She wouldn’t wake up and feel like she was doing something important.

And there wouldn’t be any moments at the bathroom door. Or in the kitchen when she poured Dash a cup of coffee and handed him a thermos and a sandwich. There wouldn’t be any stolen moments at the river house.

But she had to give these things up. The alternative was unthinkable.

She put the suitcase by the door and turned off the light. It was early yet. But she didn’t want to sit on the porch and visit with Miriam. Her guilt ran so deep when it came to Miriam that she didn’t even know how to plumb its depths.

This situation was breaking her heart into a million pieces. She threw herself on her bed, but she didn’t cry. She’d cried herself out last night. She didn’t have any more tears. She had only the determination to do the best thing she could for her son. And for Dash.

She lay there listening to the quiet in the house until Dash came home. His big car’s tires crunched on the gravel driveway. His boots sounded on the porch and the landing. At the top of the stairs, he turned left instead of right. Damn him. Didn’t he know that she didn’t want to see him?

He knocked on her door.

“Go away.”

“No.” He opened the door. She should have locked it. The light in the hallway silhouetted him. He was wearing jeans and a western shirt. She couldn’t see his face, but his presence made her heart sing.

“What do you want?”

“Savannah.” He took a step into the room. “Honey, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. And you know, there are some people on this earth who are so toxic that you have to accept that they have no part in your life. My father and grandfather were people like that. It’s taken me a lifetime and I don’t know how many AA meetings, not to mention a bucket of tears, to come to the conclusion that I was better off without my father and my grandfather.”

She sat up in the bed and squinted against the sudden light. “Please. This situation is more complicated. And besides, Todd deserves time with his—”

“Hush, let me finish.”

She shut her mouth. She listened. What else could she do?

“I know you want Todd to have a relationship with his father. And I know why. I even understand it. But you can’t send him back there.”

“Dash, I have to. I—”

“But he’s a gambler and a jerk. He doesn’t have any intention of spending quality time with Todd. You need to rethink.”

“Well, thank you for that. I think I’m capable of figuring out what is the right thing to do.” Of course she wasn’t really, but she wasn’t about to let Dash tell her what to do.

“Honey, listen, your ex is—”

“What in the world is going on up here?” Miriam’s voice came down the hall. She walked into the bedroom and turned on the light. “Are y’all arguing again?”

Her hair looked perfectly braided, and her gaze was sharp and lucid behind her trifocals.

“Aunt Mim, I’m trying to have a serious conversation with your niece.”

“Well, son, you’re doing a terrible job at telling her what she needs to know. And all she needs to know right now is that you can’t live without her.”

The exasperation in Miriam’s voice was clear as she turned her gaze on Savannah. “And as for you. Well, honey, I’m getting really old, and I’m tired of playing the poor, senile, old lady in order to guilt you into staying here. And I’m tired of you dancing around Dash making him crazy. And then there is the fact that I’m ready to retire as Last Chance’s matchmaker. You have to stay so I can turn it all over to you.”

Dash and Savannah stared at Miriam. She stared back at them. She raised one of her white eyebrows in an attempt to give them both her evil eye. “What?”

“You’re ready to turn over matchmaking to Savannah?” Dash asked.

“Of course. She’s got the sight.”

“I do?” Savannah said.

“Of course you do. You knew Hettie and Bill were a match before anyone else did. I don’t blame you for not figuring out Dash, though. He’s always been a little hard to figure. Inside that tough hide of his beats a golden heart. You have figured this out by now, haven’t you?”