60 - The Final Sedona Sunset?

[8:12 AM]CASSIDY:  Good morning.  All is well.

Not knowing when or if Jon would be able to reply, she put the phone on the bathroom counter and stepped into the shower without expecting him to.   If he did, fine, and if he didn’t…  Well, it was as her text message said – all is well. 

From her perspective, she felt that all was very well, indeed.  If a road had as many low points as her week, they’d call a road crew to fill in the potholes before somebody’s car got swallowed.  Cassidy was tired of it and was going to look on the bright side of life again. 

She’d woken up in a wonderfully comfortable bed and was going to indulge in an indecently long shower before spending far too long playing with her hair and makeup. 

Granted, it might’ve been nicer had she woken up in the arms of a very handsome man, but she was still feeling pretty darn good about the day ahead.  Why shouldn’t she?  After all, her grandmother had left something behind to ease her burden and today Cassidy would find out what it was. 

The damnable chore of digging up the gold – again – would be considered a nice visit in the woods with her MeMaw and, when she dumped out those stupid ingots and coins, there would be a blessing beneath them that would add an extra ray of sunshine in her day.  It would be nice to have even the smallest contact with the woman whom she still missed horribly. 

Until then, she sang about rainbows and being in these arms until her vocal cords were comfortably exhausted.  Emerging from the shower to wrap towels around her head and her torso, she leaned over and tapped the button on her phone to find that a new text message had arrived. 

[8:21 AM]JON: Good

She couldn’t help but chuckle, “That man and his brevity.”

His lack of commentary on how things were in New Jersey was glaringly obvious, and she idly wondered if he was getting along with his wife.  The fascination she had with his marriage was a little twisted, but Cassidy liked to consider herself a people person and was nearly always able to understand what made them tick. 

Some folks were mean because they’d been mistreated while others because they were in physical or emotional pain.  There were people that were happy simply because they didn’t know any better.  Cassidy could explain away her patients’ behavior all day every day, without problem.

Jon and his marriage, though…  That confounded her.

The only logical explanation she could find for keeping a wife whom he seemed indifferent to – and she didn’t think it was all that logical – was the money he didn’t want to split with her.  He must truly want that football team in the worst possible way if he was willing to settle for a lackluster marriage.  Maybe he believed bought happiness would be easier to hold onto than marital bliss?

He’s sure tryin’ to hold on to the happiness you supposedly give him.

Unwilling to work that thought into this logic puzzle, she deliberately put an end to her unhealthy musings about a complicated man and his equally complicated life.  There was no sense in wasting her last decadent shower on riddles that had no answer.

Two hours later, Cassidy patted her French twist and decided that there was nothing else she could do to look different than the woman in those photos.  Not until she could get to the drugstore and choose a new shade of hair color, anyway. 

For now, she would make do with damp hair that made the copper appear a little darker and makeup that was more subdued than what she’d been wearing for the last couple of months.  Jon had left his denim work shirt behind and she was wearing it over her red t-shirt.  With the sleeves rolled up and partially buttoned, it concealed her shape and sufficiently hid the snug fit of Levi’s over her backside.   There was no hope for her shoes, though.  All she had with her were heels and she chose to wear the ruby ones since they matched the t-shirt – and because they were her current favorites for more than one reason.

“That’s it, I guess,” she sighed, zipping her overnight bag closed. 

The only personal items left in the suite were tucked away in that bag and, if Cassidy hadn’t been determined to make this a good day, she could let herself get a little melancholy. 

When she stopped to let herself think objectively about the last couple of weeks and the opportunity that she’d been given to know a very private man with a very public life… It was mind-boggling, really, and this hotel room had been witness to most of that.  It held an abundance of remarkable memories and it was her intention to not forget a single one of them.  To that end, she simply couldn’t resist the urge to slip out her phone and take a few photos of the place. 

The sofa she sat on when first hearing their voices together.  The chair where he often sat to write.   The silly coffee pot that he’d shunned for mass quantities of room service coffee.  The bathroom where he sat on the countertop and talked to her while she showered.  The shower that they’d shared before he left yesterday.

The bed.    

“Stop it,” she scolded herself while cramming the phone into her back pocket.  “Get your bag and get the heck outta here.  You’ve got a life to reclaim.”

The bag was scooped up along with her little backpack purse, and both were settled on her shoulder.  She only took one more quick glance over that same shoulder before letting the heavy door close with an air of finality that followed her all the way to the elevator. 

After she exited the Omni without further sentimentality, the late-morning sunshine was warm upon Cassidy’s back while she walked toward the parking garage where the Jeep had been sitting for the past few days.  It wasn’t the closest place to the hotel, but it had been the cheapest one in the area and she had considered half-price parking a fair trade-off for the walking distance of four blocks. 

If she remembered correctly, there was a Walgreens drugstore across the street from there, too.  It would be as good a place as any to pick up some hair color.

She had just stepped into the crosswalk on Broadway when the phone in her pocket began pealing out its generic series of chimes that signaled an incoming call.  Pulling it out of her pocket, she swiped the screen.

“Hey, Libby,” Cassidy greeted without slowing her gait.  “What’s up, honey?”

“Gerald Ray is in Nashville,” her sister announced with all the flair of that man who hosted Unsolved Mysteries back in the eighties.  “I just ran into to Susie Jo Smithers down at the Wal-Mart.  We got to talkin’ and I asked her why she wasn’t at work in the middle of the day.  She the office was closed because Gerald Ray and the other fellas left on Wednesday for some kind of conference in Nashville.”

Cassidy mentally swore as the traffic flowed down Fifth Avenue.  Susie Jo Smithers was the secretary at the surveying company where Gerald Ray worked and someone that Cassidy normally would call a friendly acquaintance.  Right now, she wasn’t thrilled that Susie Jo had gotten Libby wound up.  This is why Libby hadn’t been told about his presence at Merchants.    

“I know,” she sighed into the phone, gliding to a stop at the next intersection.  “He was in the same restaurant as me the other night, but I don’t think he saw me.”

“Hell’s bells!  Why didn’t you say somethin’?”

“Because there’s no sense in worryin’ yourself over it,” Cassidy reasoned, crossing with the light, and her strides become longer as she talked.  “I’ve been holed up in a hotel room since then and I’m about a block away from Walgreens where I’m gonna get a box of Clairol before headin’ out of here.  It ain’t gonna make a hill of beans where he is then.”

“You are startin’ to piss me off by treatin’ me like a stupid little girl, Glory.  I’m a grown goddamn woman and your sister, so I’m gonna worry about you no matter what.  Do you hear me?  Now stop actin’ like you’re the sole savior of the world and let me help once in a while.”

“I…”  She was speechless.  Where had this come from?  Who was the fierce woman on the other end of this line and what had she done with Cassidy’s high-strung baby sister?  “I thought I was protectin’ you.”

“Well, you’re not.  All you do is make me worry more because I know there’s things goin’ on that you aren’t talkin’ about.  My imagination is a whole lot worse than reality, I promise ya, so just tell me and put us both out of our misery, alright?”

Why did it stun Cassidy so much that her little sister sounded so capable and mature?  Could it be possible that she was a fully competent adult that didn’t need her big sister’s protection?  When had that happened? 

“Alright,” she agreed slowly, deciding to test to the waters.  “First order of business is tellin’ you what a loser that boyfriend of yours is.”

“No kiddin’.”

“Don’t take that sarcastic tone with me.  If you know it so well, then stop lettin’ him keep comin’ back to weasel you out of everything you’ve got.  Next time you do, I’m gonna kick your butt all the way to Atlanta and bring your boys to live with me.  You hear me?”

It felt good to get that off her chest and it must not have emotionally destroyed her sister because Libby was laughing. 

“I hear ya,” she chuckled.  “I’ve been waitin’ fifteen years for you to give me that kind of motivation.”

“Oh, Lord.  If I’d known that’s all it took, I would’ve done it ages ago.  Now.  Since I’m bossin’, go back to Theo.  He was a nice guy.”

“Uh, you had sex with him, so no.  There's only one man you've slept with that I would overlook that fact for, and his name is Jon Bon Jovi.”

Cassidy smiled as the electronic door at Walgreens slid open so that she could pass through.  “Not a chance, Liberty.  One foolish Cassidy sister is all that needs to go down that road.”

“So you’re still seein’ him?”

Locating the hair product aisle, Cassidy started in that direction and was ten feet from turning into it when a little boy came barreling out of another aisle.  Instinct had her backward scooting to avoid him, but it came at a cost – an entire display of paper towels went toppling behind her, nearly taking Cassidy with it.

“Shoot, Libby.  I’ve made a mess in the drugstore.  I’ll call you back after while.”

“I’m so sorry!”  A young woman, presumably the boy’s mother, had hold of his elbow and was using the grip to force the young man in Cassidy’s direction.  “Cameron, you know you’re not supposed to be runnin’ in the store.  You apologize to this lady right now and pick up those paper towels.”

Cameron, who looked to be about ten, was appropriately ashamed when he mumbled his apology and began rounding up rolls of towels. 

Cassidy thanked the woman and let him pick everything up while she continued on her Clairol mission.  It only took about ten seconds to select a natural brown that was different than both her natural blonde and current red.  On a whim, she took a picture of the box and texted it to Libby.

[10:45 AM]CASSIDY:  What do you think?

[10:46 AM]LIBBY:  It looks like mud.  Keep some of the red.

Glancing over the shelf, she spotted Sedona Sunset, which was more of a reddish brown, and snapped a photo of it to send.

[10:48 AM]CASSIDY: Better?

[10:48 AM]LIBBY:  Much!

Sedona Sunset it is.

Cassidy was a little bit saddened to realize that, by treating her sister like a child, she might very well have missed out on having a good friend all these years.

Nothin’ to be done but move forward.

Which is exactly what she did. 

Hair color and parking paid for, bags in the back seat of the Jeep and Starbucks in the cup holder, Cassidy pulled out onto Fifth Avenue ready to navigate toward the interstate highway that led to Pasquo.  Once she was comfortable that she knew which way to go, she peeped down to locate her coffee and, when she glanced back up, it was to find that the light in front of her had turned yellow.  The surprise of it had her hitting the brake a little harder than she normally would have, and wide eyes reflexively darted to the rearview mirror to seek the presence of another car behind her.

There was only one vehicle, a red Chevy pickup, and he was able to stop before his bumper connected with the Jeep.  Cassidy threw her hand up in a gesture of thanks and apology, stepping on the gas again when the light turned green. 

The rest of her trip was fairly uneventful, and she was exiting the highway into Pasquo half an hour later.  Braking for the stop sign at the foot of the ramp, she automatically checked her rearview.  There was a red Chevy pickup that had also taken the exit and her eye caught on the front plate of the truck.  It was the distinctive University of Georgia logo that, combined with the color and model of the pickup, had Cassidy’s stomach clenching.

It was Gerald Ray’s truck.

Through the right-hand turn, she fumbled in her purse for her phone and willed her heart to slow.

He’s not going to hurt you.  He’s your family, for Pete’s sake.

Still yet…

“Hey-“

“Libby, listen to me,” Cassidy interrupted the greeting.  “I’m about half a mile from the place where I’ve been staying and I just saw that Gerald Ray’s truck is followin’ me.”

“Well, don’t go back to your place!  That would be stupid.”

“What do you want me to do?  Lead him on a high speed Dukes of Hazzard car chase?  This is Gerald Ray, not Jack the Ripper.  If he’s followin’ me instead of sendin’ the police, then he probably just wants to talk.”

Or kill you.  Thanks for plantin’ that seed in my mind, Jon.

“But what if he doesn’t just want to talk, Glory?  What the hell happens then, since nobody knows where in tarnation you are?”

One person knew where the cabin was – the same man who was the one and only to know where the gold was buried.

“Jon knows,” she informed her sister tersely.  “As soon as I stop the car, I’m gonna text you his number.  If you don’t hear from me within the hour, you call.  He knows your name, so tell him who you are and ask him to… do something.  If nothin’ else, ask him to get the gold and keep it safe.  Alright?”

“It isn’t the damn gold I’m worried about!”

The road to the cabin was coming up fast and if she was going to make the turn, Cassidy had to slow down.  She stepped on the brake at the same time she fumbled for the blinker with her gaze fixed on the rearview mirror, trying to confirm whether or not Gerald Ray was the driver of that truck.  With the sun glaring off the windshield, it was impossible to tell.

“Good things happen to good people.”  She chanted it as much to herself as for her sister.  “I love you, Libby.  Talk to you soon.”

“Glory-“

Cassidy disconnected the call as she approached a familiar spot in the road.  While guiding the Jeep to its usual parking space, she frantically flicked through her short contact list for Jon’s information.  A single tap brought it up and then she held her finger down to copy it, navigated to text messages, found Libby’s name, pasted and-

A sharp knocking on the driver’s window had Cassidy jumping in the seat and her finger jerked, skidding across the phone screen.  It barely caught the edge of the button to send Jon’s number, but it did catch, and a silent prayer of thanks went up.  That prayer was followed by another, more urgent one as she looked through the glass.

Into the disgruntled face of her cousin.

Lord, I know you frown upon kissin’ cousins, but You’d get personally involved before it came to killin’ cousins.  Right?