Dog Days Read online

  Wyatt asked Rick and Becca to follow up tomorrow morning.

  “BEFORE Y’ALL LEAVE. This may … this is a little unconventional, but since we’re all kind of like a family—okay, if y’all are free on Saturday, around four or five-ish, we’re having a cookout to celebrate Gage’s birthday. It’s at my house. Don’t feel obligated to come, but—”

  “Maggie, you’re going to get repetitive in a minute.”

  “Yeah. Well. Bring a dish to share, or for those who don’t cook, something edible from somewhere. The cake is being provided.” I looked at Paul and Gus. “Pets are welcome, too. Call me later if you want specifics. Okay. That’s all. Shoo. Go home.” They were laughing at me as I made shooing motions. “It came out more complicated than I heard it in my head.”

  “Come on, sweetheart. You wanted to stop at Sporelli’s on the way home.”

  “Yes. I did. And we have to set up an appointment for—”

  “Just tell her we want a marble cake.”

  “Marble?”

  “Yeah, marble. You know, vanilla and chocolate swirled together. With buttercream icing.”

  I thought about it. Sounded pretty yummy. “Okay.”

  “You pick out whatever color you want for the icing. I don’t care about that stuff, just so long as it’s buttercream.”

  “You’re making me hungry.”

  “I’m making me hungry.”

  “Oh, hang on. I need to call Annetta.”

  “Do it in the truck. I’m tired.”

  I glanced over. He did look more fatigued than usual, and a bit flushed. I stopped his forward motion by standing in front of him.

  “You have to move, Maggie.”

  “Just wait. Please? Are you just tired, or is something else going on?”

  “Just tired. Let’s go.”

  “Wyatt.”

  “We’ll talk. Just, please, can we go?” He finally moved around me and continued down the hall to the front door.

  More worried now, I followed. Crap. “You should have said something before I started inviting people to the house.”

  “Not a big deal.”

  Yeah, it was. Obviously, it was. Why hadn’t I noticed it earlier? Did I have so much on my mind I wasn’t paying attention?

  I got in the Jeep and strapped in. He took an extra few seconds to do the same, and then rested his head against the back of the seat.

  “Wyatt? Don’t bullshit me. What’s going on?”

  “Honestly, I’m just really tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  “Neither did I, in point of fact. Do you want me to drive?”

  He took entirely too long to think about it. “Yeah. Okay.”

  That was even more worrisome. Driving—the not him part—had been a bone of contention when he was finally released to go back to work. Since Doc Weston had cleared him to drive, he made a point of never being in the passenger seat.

  He must be in dire straits to let me do the chauffeur thing.

  Biting my lip and glancing over at him occasionally, I drove to Sporelli’s.

  Once we had Gage’s cake figured out, Vicki and I talked about the wedding cake, and I told her Wyatt’s request.

  “Great. Do you want a specific color?”

  “Not white.”

  “Okay. What about between the layers?”

  “Buttercream.”

  “How many people are you expecting?”

  “I believe the last RSVP count was fifty.”

  “Any specific layout?”

  “As in…?”

  “Tiers, square cake, round cake?

  “Um, geez. Let’s go with square tiers?”

  She nodded, scribbling. “Got it. Flowers? Fleur-de-lis? Strings? Sashes?”

  My mouth pinched. “It’s a change of season wedding, kind of. Summer to fall. Maybe like a small cluster of flowers on each tier? I was thinking rust, burgundy, orange, yellow.”

  “Good strong colors. Pretty. What kind of flowers are you carrying?”

  “I’m not carrying any, but the girls have asters, mostly.”

  “The same colors?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And your dress?”

  I grinned. “No one has seen it yet so keep this under your hat, please?”

  She winked. “Consider it done.”

  “A lovely dark Navy blue.” I gave a short laugh. “Well, yeah, Navy blue is dark. The ladies will be in bright peach, or maybe coral. I hope.”

  “Oh, that’s fabulous. Wait a minute. What do you mean, you hope?”

  “They don’t have their dresses, yet. We’re going down to Morgantown next week.”

  “Nothing like a last minute crunch. Well, the colors sound fabulous. I can’t wait.” She paused. “You know you caught the best fish in the sea, don’t you?”

  That stopped me for a moment. Then I smiled. “Believe me, I do.”

  “Actually, you didn’t have to put your line out too far, or for too long. He chose you a long time before you were aware of him.”

  I blinked. “What are you talking about?”

  “He and I had a date, once upon a time. Right after high school. Before he went in the service. You came into the restaurant with Bernie. Wyatt couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”

  Wow. Wow. “I’m … um. I don’t know what to say.”

  She smiled. “You don’t have to say anything. Just thought you’d like to know.”

  “Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you two.”

  “Are you? Think about what you just said.” She chuckled. “But we wouldn’t have been compatible. And we only ever had that one date.”

  “Still. Thanks.”

  “Glad you stopped in today. I was going to call you about the cake, early next week. Timeline was getting pretty short.”

  “I know. There’s been a lot going on.”

  “Ain’t that the truth? What is this town coming to? Who would kill Tom? He was such a nice man. Poor Lavender. My heart goes out to her.”

  “Mine, too.”

  “Anybody on the suspect list?”

  “Sorry. I couldn’t tell you, either way.”

  She grinned, and winked again. “I know. Do we need to worry that we’re next?”

  “Now that I can speak to. Nothing is a hundred percent, but I’d say no, there’s no need.”

  “Good to know. I hear you’ve accumulated a stalker. Are you okay?”

  “It’s a challenge, but I’m dealing.”

  “You had a guy following you around in high school, too. You knew that, right?”

  “No. Who was he?” Geez, had I been that oblivious?

  “Just a guy. I don’t remember if he was ahead of me, or behind, but he was always hitting on us cheerleaders. Not crazy or creepy, just … I don’t know, a little strange. It wasn’t like he was going to go postal, or anything, and he was cute. He just made me uncomfortable.

  “I especially remember him watching you and Dandy in the cafeteria.”

  “He followed me around?”

  Vicki nodded. “Seemed like whenever I noticed him, he was in the same vicinity as you and Dandy. He stated. It was embarrassing.”

  “You don’t know his name, do you?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Can’t remember his name, if I ever knew it. Just his face. Cute face. I never went out with him, but a few of my friends did. Said he was nice enough, but never had a second date.”

  “Who did he hang with?”

  “No idea.”

  Had Vicki just ID’ed—sort of—my stalker? But I still didn’t know who she meant.

  “Do you remember what he looked like? Other than the cute face.”

  She leaned on the counter and blew bangs off her forehead. “Same as all the rest, at the time. Tall, awkward, not too slim, not too fat. Jeans, Tee, sneakers. Shaggy hair. Scruffy, wannabe beard. You know, like Shaggy from the Scooby Doo cartoons? But cuter.”

  Maybe those yearbooks would come in handy. “If
I brought in an old yearbook, would you be able to pick him out?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. It’s been a long time.”

  “Can’t hurt, right?”

  “Right. I’ll see if I can dig mine out, and let you know.”

  “Perfect. I appreciate that. Thanks.” I readied to leave. “So, I can pick up Gage’s cake Saturday morning?”

  “Yup. It’ll be here.”

  “Thanks, Vicki. For everything.”

  “You’re welcome. Take care of that man.”

  “I intend to.” Waving, I went out to the truck.

  Wyatt was asleep.

  Holy crap.

  After returning home (his house), Wyatt waved off supper and went to bed. Worried, I followed him. “Should we cancel Gage’s party? Or we could postpone it.”

  “No. I should be okay in the morning. I told you, babe, I’m just tired.”

  I pressed him for more details, but there was no persuading him to spill. He really was beat. So I relented and told him what Vicki’d had to say.

  “I do remember taking her to dinner once. We had a nice time.”

  I felt a twinge of … jealously?

  “It was kinda like having a meal with my cousin, though, ya know?”

  Not sure I did, but was relieved that she’d never been competition. She was a good friend. Yes, I thought I’d pulled a fast one on her when Wyatt and I first started dating, but I always did have a wild imagination.

  But then he really threw me for a loop.

  “You were there with a date, too. Bernie, I think. Right?”

  Wow. Not that I would doubt her word, but Vicki had been right. “Yes, I guess we must have been if you saw us.”

  “I did. I was jealous.”

  My jaw dropped.

  “Could you bring me a bottle of water, please?”

  Huh. Wow, again. “Um. Sure.” On the way to grab a couple water bottles from the fridge, I let that imagination run, but had to reign it in when it got too out of hand and Wyatt was lying in the hospital again, with tubes running out of his arms and mouth, and ….

  Stay focused, Maggie Lou.

  Told you I had a wild imagination.

  I could tell Wyatt was in pain, more than he was letting on, and it wasn’t fatigue. I still felt guilty about inviting a crowd to the house.

  We’d already had words, not exactly heated words but…. I graciously volunteered (again) to cancel the party. He got all up in my face, refusing to listen, and berating me for even considering not celebrating Gage’s birthday.

  I reminded him that we’d postponed Dawson’s back in February?

  “That was different.”

  “How?”

  “It just was … is. End of discussion.”

  I set the bottles on the night stand, gave my man a kiss, and went downstairs to the kitchen to stew a bit.

  Never did call Annetta. Couldn’t even remember why I needed to.

  Chapter 11

  … FRIDAY…

  * * *

  … August 21st…

  * * *

  BECCA AND RICK checked out the Historical Society, and reported back. The Society did keep copies of Mossy Creek High School yearbooks, but they had none at the present time. Apparently, someone, in just the past week, had bought up all their copies for the years we’d specifically asked for.

  Now wasn’t that downright fishy?

  Wyatt had been dragging around the office all day. Very unlike himself, even when he was recovering.

  “Are you sure you’re not coming down with something?”

  “We’ll talk later, okay? Just…. Let’s go home.”

  Crap. That meant no, and was (probably) more serious. But, unwilling to delve into a lengthy discussion on the short trip home, I kept my mouth shut.

  Also, I drove again.

  He was asleep before I even got out of the parking lot.

  After a very light supper, Wyatt said he was going to bed. But before he got out of the kitchen, he came back to the table and sat down. “I need to tell you this, and I don’t want you to freak out.”

  Uh oh. “I only do that when your health freaks me out, and I haven’t done it in a long time.”

  “Just wanted to head you off.”

  A deep fortifying breath wasn’t going to help this time, I could tell. “Okay. What is it?”

  “Remember when Rick and I left this morning?”

  Hmm. “Yes, I do.”

  “Well, earlier I’d called Doc Weston, and told him how I was feeling. He said I should come right in. I had Rick drive me over to the office. Doc did a blood test.”

  I held my breath. This wasn’t going to make me happy.

  “He called with the results just before quitting time. I’ve got an infection. Doc Weston referred to it as a raging inferno. He wants me at his office at eight in the morning, on Monday.”

  Holy Christmas.

  I could only blink at him while what he said sunk in.

  “He didn’t seem to think it was a big emergency, but at the same time, he was … concerned.”

  “Was it something I did … we did … that we shouldn’t have?”

  “I doubt it. I thought it was just the stress of the case. And that might be a contributing factor. But a couple of the wounds have started to itch. Still do, as a matter of fact, and more than one of them is sore to touch. I’m thinking it all started with that stretch on Monday. Remember that? Or maybe that’s when I became aware there might be a real problem.”

  I remembered that stretch, and hitch, and … and that’s when I’d started paying more attention, too. “Oh, Wyatt.”

  “He called in a scrip for a heavy duty antibiotic. Rick stopped at the CVS on our way back to the office. I need to take them four times a day for ten days.”

  “He’s sure that’s all that’s wrong?”

  “No, but he wants a jump start on routing this infection before it gets worse.”

  “Please, God, it’s nothing super serious.”

  “I’m with you there. Just promise me one thing.”

  “Only one? Okay.

  He paused. “Don’t fuss.”

  A frown, and testy little huff. “I don’t fuss.”

  “You most certainly do.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but he was right. “Well, only when I’m also taking your head off about your health. But I’ll try to control myself.”

  “What more could I ask for?”

  He stood, and so did I.

  “Want some help up the steps?”

  He smiled. “Sure. You could help me undress, too, if you’re so inclined.”

  “I can do that, sure, but you’re not in any shape to follow through on that smile.”

  I did kiss him before I went back downstairs.

  As you know by now, anytime I’m worried and upset—which is almost every day, anymore—food is my go-to comforter. Not necessarily eating it, but definitely the prepping. And not just, as has been the case, baking.

  And no, I haven’t gained any weight. I have to fit in my dress, you know.

  With Wyatt in pain, and the stalker raising the threat level, I’ve been in this cooking/baking frenzy for the past several months. But I told you that already. Tomorrow was going to require a lot of both, though mostly cooking. Maybe I’ll get rid of some of the tension.

  Ten pounds of potatoes is a lot for potato salad, but…. There would be a lot of kids here tomorrow. Lots of growing boys. None of it would go to waste.

  Geez.

  The timer for said starch went off just as the phone rang. I turned the burner off and went to answer it.

  “Mom!”

  “Gage? Is everything all right?”

  “Everything’s great. Just wanted you to know I’ve got some friends coming tomorrow. They’re all bringing food, too.”

  “That’s … great. Um, I have to confess—”

  “Uh oh.”

  “I sort of invited the crew from work.”

  He laughed. “Se
riously?”

  “Yeah. Sorry. It was a spur of the moment short circuit in the old gray matter.”

  “No, that’s cool. I’m glad they’ll be there.”

  “You’re really not upset?”

  “Not at all. Your backyard is going to be cramped, but that’s half the fun of it.”

  “Oh, good. I was afraid you’d be mad.”

  “You rock, Mom.” He laughed again. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, number one son. Love you.”

  “Love you, too. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Letting out a tense sigh, I wondered if I’d bitten off more than I’d be able to handle. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about whether there’d be leftover potato salad. Still, would there be enough other food? Would everyone get along? Would they have a good time?

  While I was mixing the mayo, shredded carrots, a little mustard, and dill pickle relish into the cooled potatoes, the phone rang again.

  “Hi, Maggie. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to your son’s party, Spencer came up this weekend.”

  “Well, I certainly understand, and I think I mentioned it wasn’t a requirement. Please know, though, that Spencer is more than welcome to tag along.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. There’s going to be a crowd.” Sheesh! “Gage has friends coming, too. What’s one more?”

  “If you’re sure, we’d love to come. I didn’t want to assume….”

  “You’re fine. We’ll see you when you get here. Okay?”

  “Okay. And, I’ll bring coleslaw.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Thanks, again. Bye, now.”

  “Yup. Bye bye.”

  As I was wiping down the counters, again the phone chimed.

  My eyes rolled. Good thing I’d unplugged the bedroom extension.

  “Maggie, Rick here. Lancy and I are going to bring some meat for the grill. I wasn’t sure what you had on the menu, but we got a family pack of chicken thighs, and a few steaks. What else do you need?”

  “That should do. I just finished the potato salad, and will be mixing up the baked beans shortly. Gus is bringing coleslaw. Becca told me she would bring mac ’n’ cheese.”