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  The moment Ariel entered the kitchen she knew something was wrong. Dolly’s dark eyes were wide with shock as she handed over the phone. “This is Ariel Hart,” Ariel said quietly, her eyes questioning Dolly who just stared at her helplessly.

  “This is Stan, Miss Hart. I just got a call from the State Troopers. One of our trucks was hijacked about an hour ago. Ten John Deere tractors scheduled for delivery to Lex Sanders’ ranch. The driver was making a stop in Las Vegas to pick up a $50,000 reconditioned Wurlitzer jukebox, a reconditioned Coke machine, and a special one-of-a-kind bubble gum machine. Just those three items are worth over $150,000. It’s a federal matter so Mike called it in over the CB and reported it right away. Is there anything else I can do, Miss Hart?”

  “Is our driver okay?”

  “A little rocky, but that’s to be expected. He’s a family man so you can imagine what he was going through. Mike Wheeler was bobtailing so he picked him up at the state line where the troopers dropped him off. The feds will be here first thing in the morning to talk to you.”

  “Who’s the driver?”

  “Dave Dolan. He’s been with us for twenty-three years. He’s one of the best. Two kids in college and two in high school. Sweet little wife. Nice family.”

  “Pay him for the run as though he completed it, and give him a five-hundred-dollar bonus. No man deserves to be put in a position where he has to fear for his life. I’ll want to talk to him in the morning. Did he see the people who did this?”

  “Nope. They wore stocking masks and didn’t talk at all. Dave said they had it down pat. There were four guys; each one had a job, and did it in complete silence. Do you want to call Mr. Sanders or should I?”

  “I’ll do it, Stan. I think, and this is just my opinion, that this is the beginning of some bad times. Call a meeting tomorrow of all the truckers. We can have the guys on the road call in from truck stops. I don’t want any conversations going out over the CB.”

  “I’ll take care of it, Miss Hart. And for whatever it’s worth, I’m of the same opinion as you are.”

  “We’ve been hijacked, Dolly,” Ariel said. “It was one of Lex Sanders’ loads. Ten John Deere tractors, a genuine, reconditioned Wurlitzer jukebox and some kind of super-duper bubble gum machine that the driver picked up from an antiques store in Las Vegas. Real collector’s items. I have to call Lex . . . Mr. Sanders. Get me his number, please, and Dave Dolan’s home number. I want to talk to Mrs. Dolan personally. Maybe I should call Mr. Able in Hawaii and see what he has to say. We have his number, don’t we?”

  “Ariel, do you think Chet Andrews had anything to do with this?” Dolly asked as she riffled through a thick book that held all the truckers’ home phone numbers and Lex Sanders’ private number at the ranch. She copied down the three numbers and handed the slip of paper to Ariel.

  “It wouldn’t surprise me, but we can’t accuse anyone without proof.”

  Her heart pounding at the thought of talking to Lex Sanders, Ariel dialed the number with shaking hands. “Tiki, this is Ariel Hart from Able Body Trucking. I need to speak with Mr. Sanders. This is an emergency.”

  “Si, Señora, I fetch him. He’s in the barn. One momento.”

  Ariel’s fingers drummed on the kitchen counter as she tried to imagine Lex’s reaction to her news.

  “Sanders here,” Lex said.

  “Lex, this is Ariel. Stan just called and said your load was hijacked outside of Las Vegas by four men. They . . . they took your . . . collectibles and the John Deere tractors. The feds will be at the office in the morning. I’m sorry. We’re insured. I don’t know what to say.” Damn, she was babbling. This wasn’t her fault, but she knew in her gut he was going to blame her. She waited for the explosion she knew was coming.

  “What?” The one word was a barrage of sound.

  “What part didn’t you understand? Or is that just a rhetorical question?”

  “I understand everything you just said. I don’t give a hoot about those tractors. They can be replaced. I’ve waited thirty goddamn years for the rest of the load. I’m holding you personally responsible. I want them back. Do you hear me, Miss Hart?”

  “You don’t need to bellow in my ear, Mr. Sanders. Is it possible you think I should have ridden shotgun with that load? If you’re stupid enough to believe that, then you’re an idiot. You know it’s against the law to carry a firearm on a run. It’s also against the law to interfere in a federal investigation. The feds will handle it. You are, of course, within your rights to be at the office when they arrive in the morning. Now that you’ve ruined my evening, I want to tell you what I think of a man who stands a lady up for a date and doesn’t call her to explain why. I guess I thought you were a gentleman. My mistake.” Ariel slammed the phone down so hard, Snookie took the time to lift her head from her food dish to growl menacingly.

  Ariel dusted her hands together. “He’s holding me personally responsible. How could he say such a thing? He’ll collect from the insurance. He has a right to be upset, but not to blame me. He said he doesn’t care about the tractors. It’s the collectibles. He said he’s waited thirty years for them. I feel lower than a snake’s belly, Dolly. You should have heard him. His voice was like chipped ice. I hate men. I mean, I really hate men. My fault!” Ariel snorted.

  She dialed the Dolans’ number, reassured Mrs. Dolan as much as she could, and promised that extra security would be added to the runs to protect the drivers. “If there’s anything I can do, call me. If you have a pencil I’ll give you my home phone number. You or your husband can call me any time of the day or night. Thank you for talking to me, Mrs. Dolan. I’ll speak with Dave myself tomorrow. Good night, Mrs. Dolan.”

  “There’s a two- or three-hour difference between here and Hawaii. I’ll try Mr. Able and see what kind of advice he can offer. I just don’t feel qualified, Dolly. God, what if the drivers walk out on me? A hijacking has to be a pretty scary thing. I’m sitting here safe and sound in my kitchen and I’m frightened. Imagine what those truckers feel like.”

  The phone rang. Ariel looked at Dolly. “Don’t answer it. It might be . . . answer it . . . no, don’t . . . ”

  Ariel picked up the phone. “Hello.”

  “Ariel, it’s Lex Sanders. I’m calling to apologize. I had no right to talk to you like that. It was inexcusable. I also want to apologize for standing you up that Saturday night. I had to cross the border for a family funeral. There have been a lot of pressures here at the ranch and I have a few . . . ah . . . personal problems consuming my time. I’ll be at the office tomorrow when the authorities arrive. Aren’t you going to say something, Ariel?”

  “I think you need to get yourself another trucking company. Good-by, Mr. Sanders.” She slammed the phone down again.

  “That’s really telling him,” Dolly snorted. “But aren’t you cutting off your nose to spite your face?”

  “Probably. My gut tells me I’m going to have more than I can handle, and I don’t need Lex Sanders, his personal problems, or his on again, off again personality.” Ariel dialed the area code for Hawaii. She was still drumming her fingers on the counter-top, and tapping her foot at the same time.

  When the phone was finally picked up on the other end, a gravelly voice said, “This is Asa Able. What can I do for you?”

  She heaved a sigh of relief. “Mr. Able, this is Ariel Hart. I hope I’m not calling you at a bad time.”

  “Not a bad time. Just so much sunshine a body can tolerate. I’m having my afternoon beer out on the lanai. It’s Hawaii talk for a patio. Must be a problem or you wouldn’t be calling me. Bet you want to try and sell me back the business.” His voice sounded so hopeful, Ariel hated to disappoint him.

  “Not exactly. One of the trucks was hijacked this afternoon in broad daylight. The feds are coming tomorrow morning. It was a load for Lex Sanders—some personal things and ten John Deere tractors. He’s pretty upset.”

  “That personal stuff, that wouldn’t be one of those old jukeboxes, a Cok
e machine, and a bubble gum machine, would it?”

  “All three. Stan said the collectibles alone are worth over $150,000. Lex is coming to the office tomorrow when the feds arrive. I told him to find himself another trucking company. My question to you is, has this ever happened before? I had a pretty serious run-in with Chet Andrews and I fired him. He made a lot of threats. I’m calling for advice.”

  “Had one hijacking about twenty years ago. They got themselves caught in the next town. Lots of wildcat strikes, that sort of thing. Chet was giving me a bad time right before I sold the business to you. He’s having a hard time making the payments on his rig. I was the only fool who’d hire him, and I only used him because I was afraid of him. I’m too old to lie and make up stories about why I kept him on. Fear, pure and simple. My missus was petrified. Now, why would you go and do a silly thing like telling Lex to go someplace else? He probably will, and then where will you be? He’s my bread and butter. I mean, your bread and butter. He’s a good man, an honest man. You don’t find many like him nowadays. You best straighten up your back and apologize. That’s my advice, and it’s for free. Chet Andrews is one ugly man. He gave me many a sleepless night. Wouldn’t surprise me to find he’s behind the hijacking. The man don’t have no conscience. Why’d you say you told Lex to go somewheres else?”

  “Because he . . . pissed me off,” Ariel said smartly. “I don’t want to talk about Lex Sanders.” The laughter on the other end of the phone brought a deep flush to Ariel’s face.

  “This ain’t no time to be gettin’ on your high horse, little lady. You might be needin’ some help and Lex Sanders is the man to help you. A fine lady like yourself is no match for Chet Andrews. Would you by any chance want me to fly back there to help out? I could bunk with Lex. I’d be glad to do it.” Again, his voice sounded so hopeful, Ariel hated to disappoint him.

  “Can I take a raincheck, Mr. Able? I want to talk to the authorities first. If I feel I’m in over my head, I’ll call you. Do you like Hawaii?” she asked politely.

  “I hate it. My missus loves it. She shops all day long. Buys me flowered shirts I won’t wear. Everything she cooks has pineapple in it. Don’t like pineapple. Never liked pineapple. Am never going to learn to like pineapple. You gonna be calling Lex? Maybe I should call him. Sometimes he needs to be reminded how to talk to a lady. Is he smitten with you yet? That might be what his problem is. He’s not real good with women. Better’n a son, I can tell you that.”

  “I’ll let you know, Mr. Able. Thank you for talking to me. It’s very reassuring to know I can count on you. Have a nice evening.”

  “He’s going to call Lex Sanders this very minute,” Ariel told Dolly. “I just know it. He’s one cranky curmudgeon. Wouldn’t surprise me to find out he takes the next plane. To bunk with Lex Sanders. The two of them are going to invade my life and try to take over. I can feel it in my gut. Well, it ain’t gonna happen,” Ariel said, sitting down at the table. “Let’s eat and let’s not talk about business.”

  “Want to talk about the movies?”

  “No!”

  “Finances?”

  “Absolutely not,” Ariel said.

  “Friends?”

  “What friends? Nobody’s called me in over a month. Out of sight, out of mind.” she sniffed.

  “Why don’t we talk about what you’re dying to talk about? Lex Sanders. Remember when you had those bumps on your face and you didn’t want to be bothered with anyone or anything? Well, maybe he’s got a personal problem like that. Cut him a little slack, for heaven’s sake. Business relationships and personal relationships are separate things. C’mon, Ariel, you’re a professional. Don’t let him get to you. If you need him, ignore your pride, and if you have to suck up, do it. That’s my advice.”

  “I think it’s going to rain this evening. My face is starting to ache and that always means rain,” Ariel said, ignoring Dolly’s advice. “I can’t wait to take a long, hot bath and just sit and relax this evening. I might even make a fire to take the chill off my bedroom. I’ve got a couple of good books I’ve been meaning to start. What are you going to do?”

  “Iron. I might make some of that marshmallow pecan fudge that neither of us can live without. A double batch. My sweet tooth has been acting up all day. We can take some into the office for the girls tomorrow.”

  “Dolly, load the shotgun and put it near the mantel. Just in case.” This last was said so casually, Dolly gulped her coffee and then yelped when it scalded her tongue.

  “I can load it, but I don’t think I could shoot anyone. We’ve been through this a hundred times, Ariel. I went to the firing range with you, I learned to shoot so you would have a companion, but I know if the time came to . . . to . . . you know, I wouldn’t be able to do it. Maybe you should keep it upstairs.”

  “We need to be prepared, Dolly. This is no time to play Pollyanna. I have my gun upstairs, but what good is it going to do you if you’re down here and there’s a break-in? I didn’t say you had to shoot. Usually the threat of a gun is all you need. You did well in the class, Dolly. You’re an expert marksman. I don’t know if this is any consolation, but I think men—you know, crooks and burglars—might be a little nervous if they see a woman with a shotgun. Any kind of gun, for that matter. Remember what that instructor said: wave it around below belt level. Picture this, Dolly. You shoot between some guy’s legs—how much damage and blood do you think there would be?”

  “Buckets. I hate the sight of blood. We’d have to move out—I couldn’t clean it up.”

  “And on that thought, I’m going to retire for the evening. I locked up when I came in. Great dinner, Dolly. The alarm system is activated. If you get nervous, come upstairs. ’Night, Dolly.” She hugged her lifelong friend and whispered, “Chet Andrews would have to be a fool to tangle with us. For one thing, he doesn’t even know where we live. Sweet dreams.”

  Upstairs in her room, Ariel shed her clothes in preparation for the long, leisurely bath she’d promised herself. As she moved, clicking on the gas-driven fireplace, turning down her bed, fluffing her pillows, the shepherd paced. When the dog was satisfied that Ariel was safe in the tub, she leaped on the bed, tugged at the two pillows that were hers, squirmed, and circled the bed until she had a satisfactory nest. The moment the scent of Ariel’s gardenia bath salts wafted into the bedroom, Snookie closed her eyes, one ear at attention, the other flat against her head.

  Ariel sighed as she settled herself in the hot, steamy water. This is bliss, she thought. A bath, like a cup of fragrant tea, always made things bearable. She’d promised herself a leisurely soak with a good book. She cracked the spine before she started the first chapter of the best-selling espionage novel. Twice she extended her big toe to release hot water to which she added more bath salts. She was in the middle of chapter three when she felt the tension leave her neck and shoulders. Her toe worked the gizmo that opened the drain.

  Snug in a cherry-red terry robe, she padded out to the bedroom, kicked at a mound of colorful cushions she kept near the hearth, and plopped down, the wish list from the closet and the private detective’s report in hand. At some point during her long soak, Dolly had brought up a tray with a pot of hot chocolate and several chunks of her famous marshmallow pecan fudge. Ariel devoured them immediately. She was licking her lips, wishing she had another piece, when the phone on the little stand by the hearth rang. She stretched, almost missing the antique French phone. “Hello.” Silence. She spoke again and then a third time before she hung up. She looked at Snookie, who was staring at her. She shrugged. “Wrong number.”

  Ten minutes later the phone rang again with the same results. Five minutes later it rang again. It rang seven more times in the space of fifteen minutes. The moment her shoulders started to tense, Snookie was off the bed, circling the phone, the hair on the back of her neck straight in the air. She growled deep in her throat. “I guess we both know it’s not someone dialing a wrong number,” Ariel whispered.

  Snookie nuzzled A
riel’s neck as she tried to crawl onto her lap, her huge front paws circling her shoulders. Ariel crooned to her as the dog tried to match the sounds her mistress was making. “C’mon, you can have the rest of this hot chocolate that is now only lukewarm. Do you want to go out on the deck?” The shepherd ignored the chocolate drink and didn’t run toward the French doors the way she usually did at the mention of the word deck. Ariel shrugged. “It stopped ringing. I’m going to unplug the phone. It’s probably some kid playing a trick. This is an unlisted number—Chet Andrews can’t possibly get this number. It’s okay, Snookie.” The dog settled down immediately.