***
We drove another five or ten minutes in silence. Fred had lain back down on the rear seat, and Bonnie was now staring out her window at the traffic on US 40, which ran adjacent to the freeway. My mind was still trying to answer her first question of who could have sprayed Fred. “It was either a woman or someone afraid of dogs, or maybe both.”
It was enough to break her trance, and she turned from her window. “Why would you make a remark like that? I’ve never known you to be sexist.”
“I’m not bashing women, Bonnie. In fact, I had ruled out a woman because of how the backpack was torn from my arm, but then that would be sexist, wouldn’t it? I’m trying to think of who would be the most likely to carry pepper spray.”
She didn’t look angry, just curious, with her right brow raised half an inch higher than the left. “And a guy is too macho to carry pepper spray? You men, you’re all the same.”
“Sorry, Bon. I guess it could have been a man, maybe a mailman. I mean, who else would have one of those things?”
“Joggers, hikers, and even cops carry them.”
It was my turn to stare in awe. “Cops?”
“You should watch the show sometime. You might learn something.”
It took a second to realize she was referring to the TV show called Cops. “I better get you home, muy pronto. The lack of booze is making you meaner than a pit bull.”
Her smirk disappeared into a frown. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Jake, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m so used to fighting with Margot. Please forgive me.”
“I’m the one who should be sorry, Bon. It was foolish of me to think only a woman would carry pepper spray.”
She smiled, and turned back to her window. “I wonder what’s in the backpack.”
“Wilson claims there’s over a hundred thousand in gold coins and Julie’s book. Says he doesn’t care about the money and I can have it. He just wants his notes back so the kids’ parents don’t sue him.”
“What?” she asked, no longer looking out at the distant mountains
“That’s what he said. He didn’t mention the book until he saw that the coins were the wrong bait to make me bite.”
I could almost see the wheels turning in her head. “A hundred thousand? You could pay off your mortgage with that much, Jake.”
“More like buy a cup of coffee with a dollar and what’s in that backpack. Just how dumb does this guy think I am? At the book signing, he said it was gold ore. Remember the discourse with Cory?”
The wheels stopped turning, and she simply stared at me.
“He’s lying, Bon. He also lied to me about talking to Craig, and I’m not buying his excuse for being at Appleton’s. Besides, I don’t have the foggiest idea who took the backpack or where to find it.”
“Why do you say that, Jake?”
“Say which, that he’s lying, or where to find the backpack?”
“The part about him talking to Craig Renfield, silly.”
“He claims to have told Craig he would pay dearly for his copy of Tom Sawyer if he got it back, he supposedly said this at the signing.”
Bonnie stared at me blankly.
“Two things wrong with that, Bon. First Craig left the signing before Wilson could talk to him, and secondly, Shelia’s copy hadn’t been stolen yet.”
She thought about it for a moment then shook her head in agreement. “He must be lying about the book, too. I mean how would he know it was in the backpack?”
“A little birdie told him.”
Bonnie nearly snorted, the kind of snort that would spray someone if she had been drinking anything. “You’re kidding. He said that?”
“The little birdie told him Craig Renfield has the backpack, and he wanted me to go after it.”
She shook her head in disbelief.
We drove in silence for another fifteen minutes before she spoke again. She was staring out her window again, looking up at Mother Cabrini’s statue as I passed it. “Tomorrow’s Sunday, you know.”
“And after that is Monday, then Tuesday.”
She ignored my smart-aleck response. “You promised you would go to church with me. So will you?”
“I’d love to, Bon, but I can’t leave Fred alone so soon after being pepper sprayed.”
Wilson might have lied to me, but he was in good company. I hadn’t told Bonnie the whole truth. I had led her to believe I wasn’t going after the backpack, for fear she would insist on going with me. Then, maybe I should have told her because now I didn’t have a good excuse to skip out on the church service I had promised to attend.
“Not a problem, Jake. Bring him with you. Our pastor loves dogs as long as they are behaved and I will vouch for Freddie any day.”
***
The service was interesting to say the least. I had been raised Catholic, so I wasn’t prepared for a sermon where every other sentence started or ended in a Bible quote. I felt like a student who needed to write down all the biblical references so I’d be prepared for a pop quiz. I did, however, love the songs they sang and tried in vain to follow along.
They had a little potluck afterwards. I didn’t want to stay because I hadn’t brought a dish, but Bonnie insisted she’d brought enough for us both. We were in the food line when the gray-haired lady from the book store approached.
“Patty, you remember Jake, don’t you?” Bonnie asked her friend.
I was holding Fred by the collar with one hand and a plate in the other. “Stay,” I said, letting Fred go so I could shake Patty’s outstretched hand.
“And this must be Fred,” she said, reaching out to shake his paw.
The show off smiled and raised his paw.
“He sure is well behaved. Is he a Golden?”
“I think so.” I wondered if now would be a good time to ask her if she’d planted the nail file. “He was a present for my daughter on her tenth birthday. I got him from a shelter when he was just a puppy, so we don’t have papers to know for sure.”
Patty was barely five feet tall and didn’t have to bend down to pat Fred on the head. “Well, he could be the poster boy for Golden magazine, if you ask me. Couldn’t you, boy?”
Fred didn’t take his eyes off the sandwich Patty was holding in her other hand. The beggar probably thought she would give it to him if he pretended to be good.
“He’s quite the watch dog, too,” Bonnie said while we made our way to a nearby table. “You should have seen him chase away the burglar who broke into Jake’s house.” She sounded like a proud grandmother talking about her grandchild.
“And the day that woman broke into your place, Bon.” As badly as I wanted to, I didn’t mention it was a gray-haired woman.
“Someone broke into your house? What did they take?” Patty’s surprise looked genuine enough to make me realize I might be wrong about her.
“That’s the weird thing. They didn’t take anything,” I answered without adding the part of the burglar planting evidence to harm Bonnie.
Patty raised her left eyebrow. “A burglar who doesn’t steal? That is strange. It reminds me of a story by Lawrence Block where his burglar planted evidence after finding a corpse in the bathroom. You didn’t have any dead bodies lying around, did you, Bonnie?”
She had just taken a bite of potato salad, so I answered for her. “The Burglar Who Traded Ted Williams.”
Bonnie looked annoyed. “No, and I’m not a Block fan either. He’s a little too graphic for my tastes.”
It was my turn to eat and listen, but not before sharing my sandwich with Fred.
Patty smiled. “My all-time favorite has to be Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None.”She had that far-away look in her eyes, like Julie used to have when I knew her mind was somewhere else. “I think she was the first to use a fake murder. At least, the first I’ve ever read.”
“A fake murder?” Bonnie asked.