Page 22 of Home on the Road

“Do you know who she was?” the sheriff asked as they walked back to the house.

“Her name was Terry Montrose and she was my stepmonster,” Ziggy answered softly.

“His stepmonster?” The sheriff looked at Harry for clarification.

“His stepmother. His father died about six months ago and since then she’s abused him and worked him like a slave at the truck stop his father owned. And I believe you can testify that she was nuts.”

“Yeah, I guess I can. Why don’t you take your man inside and I’ll come in once we’ve got things cleaned up out here.”

Chapter Fourteen

Instead of sitting and waiting for the sheriff with what would probably be too many questions that he might not have answers to, Ziggy went into the pantry and pulled out the recipe cards and ingredients for the cookies he had planned to make before the day went to shit. Now seemed like a really good time to get to work. It would keep him busy as he waited.

Studying the recipes, he decided to mix the dough for Sam’s favorite spice cookie first since it needed to be formed into rolls and refrigerated before being baked. Then he would make a double batch of Harry’s chocolate chip cookies. His idea was to pack away half of them so they could munch on them once they were back out on the road.

He had just finished separating dough into four parts when the sheriff and Sam entered the kitchen. He had no idea where Harry had gone off to, but had a feeling he was close.

When the two men settled at the kitchen table, Ziggy poured the fresh brewed coffee into two mugs and passed them out. He then poured himself a glass of water and drank it.

“I’m sure you have questions,” Ziggy said as he began to shape the dough into the loaves and wrap it in aluminum foil.

“Yes, I do,” the sheriff said, pulling a notebook out of his pocket.

Thus began the longest hour of Ziggy’s life. He answered all the questions to the best of his ability, including the fact that his stepmother had abused him. Pulling up his shirt, he showed the sheriff the bruises that had lightened, but were still visible on his body. The sheriff pulled out his phone and took pictures, though he assured Ziggy it was just a formality.

Sam remained silent, and Harry was still missing when the sheriff finally rose and left.

Only then did Sam speak, staring at the four silver logs ona platter in front of Ziggy. “Are those my cookies?”

“Yes, but they won’t be ready to bake for at least two hours, so you might as well go away until then.”

“But, Ziggy,” Sam whined, trying to look pitiful.

Ziggy giggled as he picked up the platter and slid it into the bottom of the refrigerator.

“No.”

“You’re mean. I don’t know why Harry loves you,” the man grumped as he pushed out of his chair and headed toward his office.

“Because I’m cute and give good head,” Ziggy called after him, still giggling.

“TMI, man. Way too much TMI,” Sam returned before disappearing into his office.

After quickly washing the utensils he had just used, Ziggy dried them and then began mixing Harry’s cookies.

He was pulling the first tray of hot, fresh cookies out of the oven and sliding the second one in when Harry stepped in the back door.

“Oh. My. God. What is that smell?” the man moaned as he hurried across the kitchen to where Ziggy stood.

“Cookies,” Ziggy said. He slapped at Harry’s hand when the man tried to pick a cookie off the cookie sheet. “Stop. They’re too hot.”

“But, Ziggy,” Harry whined, sounding so much like his twin that Ziggy could not help but laugh.

“No. Why don’t you go ask Sam if he’d like to join us for cookies and milk,” Ziggy suggested, hoping to keep the man busy until the cookies cooled enough they would not cause serious burns when eaten.

Harry huffed, but turned toward the office. “All right, but he’d better share his cookies, too.”

“He will, don’t worry,” Ziggy said as he moved the cookiesfrom the cookie sheet to a plate then filled it again with balls of uncooked dough.

---