Page 33 of Compelling Urges

Ivy pulled away with a small giggle. “Let’s go.”

“I have an address in Chuckwalla finally,” Bodhi added as they trooped back out to Cooper’s car. “Just no phone number.”

Cooper adjusted himself with a grin and winked at Bodhi. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I was able to get the presidential suite for tonight at the nicest hotel near Yuma. It’s a brand-new resort called the Western Regency Palace.”

“Sounds interesting—I guess,” Bodhi said with a shrug. He was anxious to get going.

Finally, they were on the road. They headed east on Interstate 8 through the California desert of eastern San Diego County. The scenery was completely different from Del Mar. While Del Mar was graced with beautiful homes, hills, and the ocean, this area consisted of mile after mile of uncultivated scrub brush. Bodhi commented that the place was “as hot and dry as a popcorn fart.”

The rocky terrain flattened out considerably as they entered Imperial County and passed by El Centro where there was a fair amount of agriculture. But that gave way to a flat, desolate desert as they got closer to Yuma.

Since the scenery didn’t provide them with much in the way of entertainment, they decided to amuse themselves by talking about their families and the foibles of their most colorful relatives.

Bodhi told them, “My great-aunt Mildred used to store her potholders in the oven, and then she’d forget and turn it on. They caught fire several times, resulting in a lot of black smoke billowing out of her door. The fire department tried talking to her, but her solution was to disconnect the fire alarm instead of listening to them. The landlord finally booted her out because he was sure she’d burn down the building. She went into assisted living after that and lived there until she passed away at ninety-four.”

Cooper went next. “Most of my family has been pretty normal, but I have a cousin who’s tried to hire our family law firm several times. He likes to pretend he’s been hurt someplace like a market or restaurant and has filed close to fifty unjustifiable nuisance claims. He’s a real piece of work.” Cooper laughed. “He actually wanted to be a lawyer himself at one point until he discovered he needed to study to do it. He flunked out of law school after his first semester. He’s the epitome of someone with his hand out for an easy score.” He looked in the rear-view mirror at Ivy and asked, “Any colorful folks in your family tree, babe?”

She guffawed in an unladylike manner and said, “Remember, I grew up in Chicago, so any distant ties I might have to the mafia may or may not be greatly exaggerated.” Then she added with a laugh, “My mom’s mom had an interesting Christmas tradition, though.”

“Yeah?” asked Bodhi. “What was that?”

Ivy looked out the window and chuckled. “My grandparents liked to travel, but my grandmother was a little disorganized. She tended to forget to leave her hotel or motel key at the desk when they checked out. Back then they were real keys that hung from big plastic fobs. The fobs had the hotel address on them, and you were supposed to drop the key in a mailbox if you forgot to return it. The hotels must have hated having to make keys all the time. Anyway, one year my grandmother took all of the keys she hadn’t returned and hung them on the Christmas tree. She said they were all ‘good memories’ and were better than fancy glass balls.”

As the miles sped by and they got closer and closer to their destination, the purpose of their trip settled over them and they stopped trying to entertain each other. It was not going to be the least bit enjoyable to face Blair’s mother with their news.

“Bodhi?” Ivy asked softly.

“Hmm?”

“What are you going to tell her about Blair?”

Bodhi sighed. “I’m not sure. I’ll be as honest as I can without being hurtful, and I guess I’ll just wing it. Maybe she knows more than we think she knows. It’s impossible to tell until we get there.” He turned to look at his friends. “But thank you both for coming with me. It means a lot.”

Chapter 26

When they arrived at their hotel, the front desk clerk made certain to point out that the sofa in the sitting room folded out into the other bed they would need. All three of them smiled benignly at that bit of information. As it turned out, the presidential suite was a gaudy room with laughable décor. The throw pillows were all in the shapes of cacti—minus the prickly stickers—and the paintings on the wall depicted desert scenes of dubious interest including rattlesnakes and sun-bleached animal skulls. The southwestern “earth tones” were over the top with vivid oranges, browns, purples, and turquoise that hurt their eyes. At least the bed looked comfortable, the room was clean, and they had a nice view of the desert and the Gila Mountains.

Oncethey dumped their bags and freshened up, they headed to the restaurant off the hotel lobby. Aiming to partake in the local cuisine, Bodhi ordered a Sonoran hotdog that turned out to bewrapped inbaconand grilled, served on abolillo-style hot dog bun, and topped withpinto beans. On the side he hadraw onions, tomatoes, mayo, mustard, and a hot jalapeno salsa that he avoided like the plague.

Cooper decided to try Quechan stew, hoping for an authentic Native American dish. When it arrived, he discovered it was an unimaginative bowl of chili that would have been too spicy for Bodhi. But it did come with an interesting fry bread on the side. And not one to miss out on the local color and flavor, Ivy ordered Navajo chicken tacos. The tacos were also made with the delicious fry bread, and they all decided she’d ordered the best dish.

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner!” she chanted and then bit into a yummy taco, laughing at their jealous expressions. “Or… lunch anyway,” she said with a smile.

All too soon, lunch was over and it was time to track down Lauren Henry. They headed to the car they’d left in the underground lot and programmed the GPS for 635 Saguaro Road, Chuckwalla.

“I hope she’s there,” muttered Bodhi. “A lot of Arizona residents head to the coast when it’s this hot.” Knowing that already, no one answered him. It was common knowledge in San Diego County that Arizonans invaded their area during the summer months.

They headed north out of Yuma, and the scenery grew more and more desolate. Finally, after navigating off the main highway, they came to a small town that proclaimed itself to be “Chuckwalla, founded in 1899, population 4016.” As they get closer to the town center, they drove by the Rep-Tile Flooring Company, the Lizard Lounge, and the Chuckwalla All-You-Can-Eat Buffet. Their GPS directed them to go east just past the restaurant, and that put them smack-dab onto Saguaro Road. When he saw the street sign, Bodhi’s stomach did a queasy flip, and he was immediately sorry about having the Sonoran hotdog. He popped a mint into his mouth and watched how the heat waves shimmered off the pavement in front of them. The thermometer on Cooper’s dashboard said it was 111°.

“How do people live in heat like this?” asked Ivy.

“I dunno,” answered Cooper. “But they seem to manage just fine up in Las Vegas. It’s sure not my style. Give me the beach any day and forget the desert.” He looked to the right at a medium-sized house that more or less matched all of the other houses around it in style. “Here we are.”

He pulled up to the curbless front of the property and carefully parked where he wasn’t blocking the driveway or mailbox. The yard was neat and filled with small rocks where he would have expected a grassy lawn. “I guess watering the grass is out of the question around here,” he observed. “Those plants all must be drought-resistant.” He eyed the scrubby little plants that sprouted up here and there amongst the stones. It was a terribly drab sight. The only color came from some painted pots on either side of the front door. There was no shade anywhere.

“Here goes nothing,” announced Bodhi. He took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, closely followed by Ivy and Cooper. They all squinted in the bright sunlight, even with their sunglasses on, and gasped at the blast of the hot, dry air. “It feels like a furnace out here,” he complained. “I can appreciate the underground parking at the hotel now. This is unbelievable.”

They all headed to the door. Bodhi carried a shopping bag with Blair’s purse and other junk in it. He rang the bell and heard a woman’s voice calling, “Coming!” cheerfully from inside.

---