Trent propped his elbows on his desk and folded his hands. "I've found John," he told Sherry, who looked simultaneously excited and scared. "I've talked to John, and he agreed that you could see him if you wished." Sherry attempted to talk, non-coherent syllables escaping her lips and tears forming in her eyes. At last she managed to ask when she could see him. "Can you come with me this afternoon? At 4?" he asked. She nodded, smiling broadly and biting back tears. Trent checked his watch. "Be back here in an hour, and I'll take you out there."
Too quickly, the hour passed, and Trent was chauffeuring an anxious Sherry. "John made me promise not to tell you anything until after the meeting," he said.
"Why would he do that?" she asked with a trace of alarm.
"He also said that the final decision to meet is yours," Trent said as he pulled up to the curb and shifted his car into park. He glanced at the time. "We're here early. Just sit tight. He should be getting back any minute." He pointed out a beige house across the road.
Sherry sat back and looked at the modest house with its small square of grass that served as the front yard and the little shack of a garage. Was John poor? Is that why he didn't want to meet her? But he didn't know that she was a millionaire!
Her thoughts were cut short when an old, rust-eaten hatchback pulled onto the cement apron in front of the garage. Sherry got out of the car and watched intently as a balding, middle-aged man got out of his own vehicle, holding a worn leather brief case and a suit jacket in one hand. He trudged toward the front door but never made it there before two kids came tearing out of the house and hugged him fiercely about the waist. He hugged them back, and Sherry could hear his throaty laugh from where she stood, partially hidden by Trent's blue sports car. John glanced around, searching for someone. His eyes locked on Sherry, and she gave a tiny wave. He smiled and shooed his kids inside. He paused in the doorway and looked back at Sherry, who nodded and got back in the car. Trent started the engine. He smoothly pulled away from the curb and headed back to Uppercuts. "Do you have any questions?" he asked Sherry gently.
"He's married, then?" her question was more of a dull statement.
"The Covenlys have been married for almost ten years now," Trent told her. "He has two kids, aged seven and nine."
"Oh," she said quietly, digesting his words.
"The only other thing he told me was that his commitment to his children outweighs anything you two had or ever could have, but that you gave him something he, quote: 'would cherish always.'" Trent finished. "He said your love sustains him, but his children need their mother, and they're his priority."
"Yeah, sure," she said. "I made the right decision," she said, trying to convince herself. "Not meeting him is the right thing to do…"
"Hey, Kim," Danae opened the door to Thunder Investigations. "Is Trent or Carlos in? I wanted to go back out to Gwendy's place and look around some more."
"Trent's finishing up the Internet Love case," Kim replied. "Turns out the guy is married with two kids and even though he's in love with Sherry, he can't abandon his family."
"That's so tragic!" Danae said.
"I know!" Kim replied. "Anyway, he just left and won't be back for another hour."
"What about Carlos?" she asked.
"He is giving a statement to Nicole's divorce attorney."
"Well, I guess I'll have to wait until tomorrow unless you want to come with me," Danae said, only half-joking.
"Actually, I wanted to talk with Mrs. Peters about financial matters anyway," Kim said as she stood up and pulled on her coat. "Her check bounced." She scribbled down a message for the boys that told them where she was and followed Danae out the door. As she shut and locked it behind her, the wind ruffled papers on her desk, and her note fell to the floor.
Gwendy was surprised to see them when they arrived. "I thought you had already figured out what was haunting my house," she chuckled.
"We found out what was causing the noise, yes, but not what you were seeing in the field," Danae smiled. "Mind if I take another look?"
"Oh, we just sprayed pesticides on the field. It's best not to walk out in that. Heavens only knows what that will do to you!"
"I'll just take a look from upstairs, then," Danae said, pulling out some binoculars. Kim asked some questions about how pleased Gwendy was with their service and was just about to address the bounced check when Danae came back. "I couldn't find anything unusual," she said. "You definitely have something moving in and out of there, though. You can see the trails."
"Oh that's alright, dearie," Gwendy said lightly. "I'm getting old, and there are a few screws loose. The eyes aren't as good as they used to be!"
"Thank you for your time," Kim smiled and shook her hand. She and Danae walked down the porch steps and headed for Danae's car, when Danae stopped.
"I want to check out back one last time," she decided. Kim trialed her around the perimeter of the house, completely disgusted by the thoughts of what could be lurking in the overgrown grass. The fox hole was abandoned, and Danae turned around, squinting into the setting sun at the fields. "That's weird," she told Kim, pointing to the corn field.
"What's weird?" Kim didn't see anything wrong. She was Dallas-born and –raised, and she rarely ever passed through the country, except en route to another town.
"They took all of the fields last fall," Danae explained as they walked back around the house toward the car. "Why would they leave that one still standing? And why would they spray in the middle of winter?"
"Yew sure are nosy," Bucky sneered from his seat on the hood of Danae's truck. Wayne, who carried a long, heavy wrench in his grimy hands, agreed. "I don't like people butting in on my business," he growled. "Gwendy don't be needing your services no more."
"Just a minute!" Kim interjected. "Who gave you the right to…" she trailed off, seeing Wayne tighten his grip on the wrench handle, and pieced everything together. "Right…you're the bad guys," she pointed at them for identifying emphasis. Before Wayne could even muster a leer, Kim grabbed Danae and ran as fast as she could away from the men. They decided their best bet was to lose their pursuers in the unmowed cornfield. Bucky quickly realized how difficult it would be to find them if they reached the thick jungle of cornstalks or the grove of trees beyond and yelled at Wayne to do something. His brother hurled his wrench and, it struck Danae hard on the outside of her ankle. She faltered, but continued running in spite of the pain.
They had only pushed their way ten feet into the maze of corn when they came across a clearing and screamed at the startling sight of a man there. The Native American sat deep in meditation, wearing only jeans and his thick-soled boots. His weathered face was tilted up to the amassing clouds, and his grey hair was even with the gut that bulged over the top of his denim waistline. He opened his compassionate brown eyes at the sound of the girls' yelp, and they stared at each other, mutually surprised.
When Bucky and Wayne reached that spot, drawn by the screaming they had heard, all that was left of them was Danae's car keys, which she had dropped in her surprise.