Into the Inferno - Earl Emerson [12]
When I climbed into the rig next to Karrie, my hands were trembling.
7. WELCOME TO THE CASTRATI
It was after dinner and I was driving to Tacoma, switching the truck radio between talk shows to keep myself distracted, when I noticed my hands were trembling again.
It had happened three times today, and each time Stephanie Riggs had been at the root of it, which made me wonder about her. You meet a woman and your hands start shaking, was that the same as chemistry? There were a lot of reasons why nothing would come of our meeting tonight. First of all, she was Holly’s sister. Second, she was a ball-buster. The original ice queen. And the worst part of it was that she was a whole lot smarter than I was.
My standard operating procedure was to shun smart women. It only made sense.
North Bend to Tacoma. An hour each way, the two-way trek would consume the meat of the evening. It was Monday night and I had to work again in the morning, had been putting in seven days a week since Joel McCain’s accident, and I didn’t need additional distractions. Neither did my daughters, Britney and Allyson, who were used to having me home in the evenings and begged me not to make this trip.
I was retracing the same route I’d used for a month in the spring when I was seeing Holly, who lived in Tacoma and who, from the beginning, had required more attention than a naughty kitten.
With luck I would get back in time to play a board game with the girls. Currently they were hot on Monopoly, which, for them, was a blood sport. It was an unusual game when I didn’t go bankrupt first, rarer still when either of my lovable little connivers showed me any mercy.
The phone call had come while I was preparing dinner. “Who?” I said.
“Stephanie Riggs.”
“Oh, yes. Weren’t you the one called me a bastard? No, wait. That might have been the lady at the bank. I get confused.”
“I called to apologize.”
“For telling me I was a bastard or for making me a laughingstock at work?”
Britney looked up at me with her brown eyes and said, “Somebody said a bad word.” I kissed the top of her head and put my finger to my lips.
“I’m sorry for all of that. I’ve had a difficult visit, and I’m scheduled to fly back home day after tomorrow.”
“Gee, we’re going to miss you.”
“You’re not making this easy.”
“Sorry about that. I had a tough day. I met the original she-bitch from hell.”
The line was silent for a moment. “Okay. I deserved that. I was wondering if you could come to Tacoma so we could talk.”
“We’re talking right now.”
“I’d come back up there, but I’m stuck at work. There are some issues I need to go over with you. In person. Please?”
“I don’t even know you, lady.”
“You knew my sister.”
“That’s over with.”
“Just please come?”
“She going to be there?”
“My sister won’t even know you were in town.”
“Okay. Sure. Maybe we’ll videotape it for when I have friends at the house. Some of my pals missed your remarks this afternoon.”
“This morning when I saw you, it surprised me. Holly said you were a nice guy.”
“I thought she said I was a bastard.”
“I’m so not like today. I couldn’t even believe I said those things.”
“Neither could I.”
Despite everything I was feeling, her conversation had the hint of promise to it. I couldn’t tell whether she was flirting or I was only imagining that she was flirting. In the past I’d thought women were coming on to me when they weren’t. As outlandish as it may sound to you, I found myself entertaining lascivious visions of a summertime fling with my ex-girlfriend’s sister. Was this an invitation, as in invitation, or was this a setup so her favorite rugby team could knock me down and put the boots to me?
“You really took it well, I thought, considering. You were a darling.” The word oozed out of her mouth like maple syrup. Darling. Next to cute or sweet it was one of the major tip-off words that a woman liked you. I didn’t know much, but I knew that.
“I suppose I can drive down,” I said, mentally kicking