“No, Jess, you drive.”
Once in the car Jess handed Lane the hand sanitizer and Lane opened the glove compartment to get napkins. She really needed to wash her hands, but until she got home this would have to do. Jess started the car and looked at her mother. “We missed lunch, and it’s nearly dinner time now, but I imagine you want to get out of those clothes and have a shower.”
Lane smiled. She had to give it to her daughter. The girl really knew her mother. Lane had been wearing a flax colored silk suit this morning. Now it was in the hands of the Overland Park police, considered as evidence which she may never get back, but it didn’t matter, the suit was ruined. There was no dry cleaner on earth who could get out all of that blood.
“It’s not what we had planned, but how do you feel about ordering a pizza,” Jess asked. “We can make a salad and just stay in.”
Lane heard a tap on the window and saw Ben standing at the door. She hit the button to lower the window.
Ben leaned down to eye level. He looked at her as she shook the hand sanitizer and tried to squeeze the last of it onto her hands. “Hi, Jess. Red, are you all right?”
Lane gave her head a slight shake. “I’ve been better. We’re on our way home for pizza and salad.”
Friday was date night for Ben and Lane and that meant going out alone. She should have been surprised when he said he’d pick up the pizza and meet them at her house. Date night was important to both of them, but Ben knew that being safe in her own home was more important tonight.
Lane started to raise the window, but Jess called out to Ben. “Hey, you’d better get two. Jake’s coming over.”
Jake was Lane’s oldest child. He was 25 and was a civil engineer working for Burke and Jones. He had a house near 119th and Metcalf. Lane had given each of her Kids two hundred fifty thousand dollars from an unexpected windfall she’d gotten during the summer. Jake had used his money to buy a house and furnish it.
“You called Jake,” Lane asked as she raised the window.
“Mom, I’m a Parker. I called everyone.” They laughed. They had a long running family joke. What are the three fastest forms of communication? Telephone, Telegraph and Tell-a-Parker.
“Seriously, Jake didn’t have plans tonight and since I’m only here through the weekend, I thought he could hang out with us. When will Jams be home from football practice?”
Lane smiled. Jams was Jess’s nickname for the youngest of the Parker Kids, Jamison. Jamie was a senior in high school and would be going to West Point in June.
Lane leaned her head against the window. Could this day possibly get any worse? And then she did a little mind slap, thinking that it certainly had been worse for Carol Anne.
Chapter 2
Safe at Home
Lane thought about running a bath. God knew she could use a relaxing soak, in a tub filled with hot water and bubbles. She had pizza and people coming though, so a quick shower would have to do. She was five feet ten inches tall, weighed 175 pounds, had an IQ of 187, reported directly to the president and CEO of a fortune 1000 company and had a classic elegance about her. She might look great in a suit and heels or enjoy dressing up in an evening gown for a fundraiser; but regardless of the job and any impressions anyone might have, Lane was a boots and jeans kind of gal. Maybe it was from growing up in rural Iowa, who knew? She pulled on a pair of well-worn men’s Levi’s. Lane had a trim waist and hips and in boots, she had a 36 inch inseam. She’d always had trouble finding women’s jeans that fit and, when she was in her late teens, she’d stopped looking. Nothing fit like a good pair of Levi’s 501 button fly jeans. Since she planned to pad around in her bare feet, she rolled the cuff up once and donned a light weight, sleeveless, crew neck, cotton sweater. She bent over, ran her fingers through her wet hair, and gave her head a shake in lieu of combing. She wore no makeup and didn’t bother looking in the mirror. As she left her bedroom she heard what could only be described as raucous laughter emanating from the kitchen.
Lane lived in a ranch style house that was built in the mid 1950’s. She’d remodeled, when she’d first moved in, to accommodate an island which housed a large farm house style sink and a breakfast bar with seating for four. Ben, who had arrived with the pizza, stood at the sink listening to Jess telling stories about her latest acting experience. She’d been on the set with Gabriel Greer, a well-known actor and practical joker, who was the guest star on the forensic crime show in which Jess played the murder victim to Gabe’s bereaved boyfriend. Gabe was in rare form, pulling a prank on just about everyone from the director to the make-up artist. He had come to the set with what appeared to be two black eyes and stitches across his forehead, holding the morning paper, and telling everyone about a car crash he’d been in the night before. As people started scrambling trying to decide whether they should get another actor, put off shooting, try to cover up the damage, or rewrite the episode with him as the victim, he’d started laughing. Apparently everyone had forgotten he’d grown up in Hollywood at the feet of his renowned make-up artist mother.
“His make-up job was better than mine, and I was supposed to be dead, probably not coincidentally, from a car crash.”
Ben looked at Lane. God she was beautiful, even radiant, fresh from the shower her hair appearing redder and even thicker when it was wet. He wanted to kiss her, wanted to hold her and keep her safe; but even though the kids knew they were dating now, he and Lane didn’t do public displays of affection. She accepted the plate he handed her as she slid onto a bar stool opposite him.
“I’m the bartender for the evening. What’ll it be? DDP? Wine? Something stronger?”
She selected a slice of pizza, taking a bite before putting it on her plate. Mmm, meat lovers with a thin crispy crust, her favorite. “Diet Dr. Pepper, caffeine free, please.” She didn’t have to tell him that she wanted a full glass of ice and a straw, he knew.
“Well, Mom, you don’t look any worse for the wear,” Jake said as he leaned over to give her a hug and a peck on the cheek. He looked first at Lane, then at Jess and finally at Ben. “Okay what do we know, so far, about the case?” he paused, “Except that Mom didn’t do it, I mean.”
She smiled. “Well, once more from the top then.” She then proceeded to relate the whole story again, this time for Jake.
“So, the only reason the police have to suspect murder is that some high strung woman started screaming when she saw you trying to help Carol Anne?” Jake shook his head.
Lane shrugged, Jess shook her head but Ben nodded. “Circumstantial, at best, but cases have been built on less. We’ll know more when the autopsy results are in. I’ve called Stan Evans, the manager at the club, and with the permission of Overland Park Police Department (OPPD); I’m going to check out the rest room, before the police release the scene and Stan calls in a cleaning crew. It’s probably as simple as Carol Anne slipping on wet tile and hitting her head.”
They finished eating, listening to each other’s stories about work and school. Then Jake and Jess headed for the family room in the basement and some serious Guitar Hero on the PS3, while Ben and Lane worked quietly together cleaning up the kitchen. Even a casual observer could see this choreographed dance was one they’d done many times before; as she handed him plastic containers, which he then put into the large side by side sub-zero refrigerator. Ben grabbed a beer for himself and held up a can of caffeine free Diet Dr. Pepper.
Lane shook her head. “I’ll take a glass of white zinfandel, though.”
He grabbed the already opened bottle from the wine storage unit under the counter, got a glass from the cupboard, poured the wine and handed it to her. She swirled the wine, looking caught up in her thoughts. She took a sip, still seemingly unaware that he’d taken the seat next to her. He reached out, gently placing a stray hair back behind her ear. She didn’t seem to notice.