Dinner with the Blakemores (The Blakemore Files Book 5) Read Free Page B

outfit for every occasion. 
    Dora was dressed smartly in camouflaged pants, black boots, and a black pea coat.  The true eye catcher was the scarf she wore around her neck. Before she could comment on it, Dora slid into the backseat of the truck, pelting Saxton with a million questions.
    “Saxton, what has happened?  Is my baby okay?  Did she shoot Dwight?” Dora asked.
    Big Sarge was struggling to climb up into the truck as Saxton’s eyes went to the rearview mirror.  On the steering wheel he pressed a button, and an extra step lowered from the running board, giving Big Sarge some additional footing to climb up and prop his good hip on the seat.  Odessa’s hand went to her husband’s arm. “So that’s what that button does.”
    Saxton winked at her as Dora turned to her husband, grabbed him by the back of the coat, and pulled hard. Big Sarge landed on his back in the seat, his face almost in Dora’s lap, as she looked down at her husband. “Would you stop playing around, man, our baby may be in jail! Saxton, is she in jail?”
    “We don’t know that, Ms. Dora,” he told her.
    “Well, did she kill the bastard?” Dora implored.
    “I have no knowledge of the status of Dwight,” Saxton told her as he kept his eye on Big Sarge, waiting for the rear truck door to close.
    Dora was trying to remain cool. “Has she been arrested, Saxton?” she asked, her voice rising an octave.
    Big Sarge was secured in the seat as Saxton put the big Ford into gear. “I am not aware if she has been arrested.” 
    He remained cool as his mother-in-law formed a face he had never seen before on the woman.  Dora’s brow was furrowed, her mouth was tight, and she stared him down through his rearview mirror. “Well, what the hell do you know, Saxton?”
    Saxton mumbled under his breath, “Now I know why Ryanne called me.” Odessa rubbed at his arm, while her other hand rubbed her belly trying to calm his son that was either turning in her womb or playing soccer.
    Big Sarge was doing his best to calm his wife. “Dora, compose yourself.  I am certain that when she called Saxton, he made some calls and she is going to be okay until we get there.”  He patted his wife’s hand as he made eye contact with Saxton through the rearview mirror.  Saxton nodded his head in agreement.  Understandably, he too was worried and Dora wanted more details.
    Saxton had none. She opened her mouth to say something that Big Sarge was certain would make Saxton want to climb in the backseat and throttle the woman, so he held his wife’s hand. “Dora, she will be safe until we get there.”
    With his other hand, Big Sarge reached along the side of the seat to nudge Odessa’s arm.  She picked up on his cue and turned in her seat, as much as she could with a small watermelon-sized belly restricting her movements.  “Mom, that is an interesting scarf,” she said.  This of course changed the subject a bit. “Are those little dots on it?”
    Dora used one hand to free the scarf from her neck so she could take a closer look at it. “No, those are Army ants.”
    “You have a scarf with Army ants on it …” Odessa said and then she thought about where it could have come from and she got quiet.  Her mother would do the rest.
    “Mary Jean sent me this for my birthday last month.  It is rather warm and of course it matched my outfit,” Dora said with pride.
    Saxton’s eyes went to the rearview and looked at his in-laws in the backseat. They were exceptionally loving people and even better parents.  Some Saturdays, Saxton felt guilty for enjoying his fishing time alone with his father-in-law, because he could not remember the last time he had fished with his own father. As he drove to the airstrip, his eyes would periodically glance into the rearview mirror as Odessa soothed and occupied her mother by talking fashion.  A pang shot through him as he got a flash of a memory of his mom helping him pick out a tie for Easter morning service