Chapter Twelve

A thousand curse words slipped out of Caleb's mouth as he stepped into a gopher hole and fell. The last place he'd wanted to be was on the border of California and Arizona, surrounded by nothing but dirt, bushes and nothing -as far as he was concerned - especially colorful to look at, waiting for his 'stupid' cousin. Only, he couldn't exactly risk going back to his house with the items he'd picked up a few hours before. The colder air didn't help his mood either. By the time he saw the headlights of Phillip's truck, he was fit to be tied.

"It's about time you got here! I'm freezing!" Caleb snapped angrily as Phillip opened the door to the truck and climbed out.

"Quit your belly aching," Phillip did his own snapping. "It's not that cold, and I got here as soon as I could. It's not my fault I had to work an extra hour at work. Now, show me what you got."

"I'll show it to you." Caleb walked over to his own pickup and pulled back the tarp. "And you will take it… even if you dump it somewhere along the line! I've already told you a number of times-I can't take anything back with me!"

"The way you're acting you'd think someone was on to you." Phillip looked his cousin straight in the eye. "They're not, are they?"

"Of course not! If someone was, I wouldn't be here!" Caleb barked. "Now, let's get these things into the back of your truck, so we can both get back to where we're supposed to be!"

If Philip didn't know he had to get back to Los Angeles, get just enough hours of sleep to function, and then be to work on time, he would have argued with taking some of the things his cousin had in the back of the truck. As it was, he simply made a note of a few stops he'd have to make—ones where there was garbage bins he knew about.

While Caleb and his cousin were dealing with each other, Pete was in the room he was using at his parents' getting ready to go over to the Mitchells' with his parents. The three of them, along with some of the Mitchells' friends, had been invited over to the ranch to celebrate the Mitchells' anniversary. However, after throwing a shirt on, Pete picked up the phone next to his bed and dialed Jim's phone number.

"Hello," Jean, who had been closest to the Reeds' phone, answered.

"Hi, Jean. It's Pete. Is Jim around?" Pete sat on the edge of the bed-even as he finished buttoning up the new shirt he'd put on.

"Yes, he is. Hold on." Jean put down the phone and left to get her husband. In a matter of seconds, Jim was picking up the phone.

"Hey, Pete. It's good to hear from you, though, I'm sorry. I haven't been able to get a hold of Perkins' parole officer. I did leave a message though."

"I wasn't calling about that anyway." Pete paused and then asked, "Do you know if Kelly is still going to retire this year?" Kelly was another long-time dispatcher at the police station; though, she only worked a few hours one day a week. Pete had heard rumors before he'd left for Arizona; however, they were ones he'd ignored at the time.

"From what I hear, she is. Why?" Jim asked, a bit puzzled at the question.

"I have a friend who might be interested in working the same hours Kelly's been working." Pete answered slowly-as he thought about one of the many conversations he'd had with Amanda.

"Amanda-or did you say Mandi?" Jim asked.

Sometimes Pete hated the way Jim could hear what wasn't said, though, most of the time, it just made him smile. "If you must know, yes. Her name is Amanda, but some call her Mandi. I.. well, let's just say you might be free to talk some more later. See if Mac can do anything about getting the department to hold off when it comes to filling that position. Well, for a few hours at least."

Jim couldn't believe his ears-as he could hear what Pete's tone of voice was implying. "It's hasn't been quite three weeks, Pete. This isn't like you."

"Tell me about it," Pete stood up and apologized. "Look, I need to go only I told Mac I'd make sure you could say something when you saw him next. If you see him before I call again, just tell him I'm very serious with someone down here...and there's something I admit I'm still keeping from you. No, he doesn't know about Mandi, only he does know there's something I'm not saying. What time do you go to work in the morning?"

"I don't work until noon, and what else is there?" Jim wasn't sure he liked the fact that Pete was holding something back; it made it so he came up with a thousand different possibilities.

"I'm not saying right now. I haven't even talked to Mandi yet." Pete paused and then added, "Jim, no matter what, believe me when I say I know what I'm doing." Pete's voice took on the tone he always used when he was a hundred percent sure about something-one that said there was no room for argument.

Jim knew the sound like the back of his hand and backed off. "All right, Pete, only, promise me, you'll call me as soon as you can. And, I'll let you know the minute I've talked to Perkins parole officer."

"I promise, and thanks." Pete then apologized, only he had to get going.

Once Pete hung up from talking to Jim, he went into the kitchen. His mother had been cooking rolls for the Mitchells' celebration, and he wanted to see if she was ready to go. His father, who had been helping out a neighbor, had promised to meet his wife and son at the Mitchells'. "Ready?" He asked once he stepped into the kitchen.

"Yes, only before we go," Mrs. Malloy looked at her son, "I have to say it seems like you're getting rather close to Miss Butler awfully fast."

Pete, who wasn't surprised to hear those words from his mother, put his hand on her shoulder. "I know I am and, yes, if anyone in the past would have told me I'd be doing such a thing? I'd have told them they were insane."

"She's a nice young lady; we could always adopt her." Even as the words went of her mouth, Mrs. Malloy was a bit embarrassed.

Pete rolled his eyes. "I like her more than that." He nodded towards the door. "Now, are we ready to get the rolls and go?"

Mrs. Malloy shook her head, grabbed the box of rolls and headed for the door-which Pete was now holding open. Guess time would tell her if her son was going to finally eat his words about never getting married or not.