Bad Juju: A Novel of Raw Terror (5 page)

Luke stepped off the porch, and the
dog tagged along expectantly.

“Stay,” he said sternly.

Hondo sat obediently on his
haunches.

“Good boy.”

As he was about to climb into his
pickup, a splash of light illumined the gravel driveway in front of his
two-story house. The headlights of a small car snaked up the driveway and painted
him in amber.

“Who the hell can this be?” he
muttered.

Behind him, Hondo went on alert,
his ears at attention and his tail slapping the ground in anticipation.

Tires crunching gravel, the car
rolled to a stop beside Luke’s truck. The driver’s door swung open and a petite
woman in white shorts and a powder-blue T-shirt stepped out.

“Well, hello there, Shorty,” Luke
said, smiling. “This is sure a surprise.”

“Call me that again and I’ll kick
your shin,” she said, smiling back at him.

“Sorry. Miss Tyler.”

“
Ree
, dammit.”

“Ree Dammit.” He grinned.

“Same old Luke,” she said, trying
not to laugh. “Always trying to get my goat.”

“I didn’t even know you had a goat,
Shorty.”

She kicked his shin.

Hondo wagged his entire body
between them, wanting to join the fun.

“Okay, okay. Truce. Is this a
social call or are you here just to abuse me?”

“I brought you a peach cobbler. Not
that you deserve it.”

“Best cobbler in the county,” he
declared. “But you’re right. I don’t deserve it.”

She turned back to her Toyota and
reached in for the casserole dish of peach cobbler. Luke caught himself
admiring the fit of her tight shorts on her shapely rear.

“Come on in the house,” he invited,
averting his eyes.  “I’ll make a pot of coffee to go with it.”

“I don’t want to intrude. You look
like you’re going somewhere.” She nodded at the gym bag slung from his
shoulder.

“Nah. Not really.” He put the bag
in his truck and walked with his guest toward the front door.

“It’s dark as sin out here in the
boondocks,” she observed. “I like it.”

As they mounted the porch steps,
she sniffed at him. “Is that a new cologne or are you working pest control
now?”

“Mosquito repellent. Those suckers
love me.”

“’Cause you taste so sweet, no
doubt. Ha.”

“You’re a pistol, Ree.”

“Don’t let my size fool you,” she advised.
“I’m a cannon when I have to be.”

“I know it. I always said you were
the loose cannon on the town council.” He escorted her into the roomy kitchen.
“Have a seat.”

She pulled out a chair and sat at
the kitchen table while he loaded the coffee brewer and got it going. It
wheezed and gurgled like the death rattle of a terminal emphysema patient, but
it made great-tasting coffee.

Luke sat across the table from her
and watched as she spooned generous portions of cobbler into their bowls. Ree
was ten years younger than he was, and she wore her forty years very well. Few
women become more attractive in their middle years, but Ree was one who had
improved with age—like fine wine or gourmet cheese.

“You look deep in thought,” she
said as she set his bowl in front of him.

“I was just thinking about wine and
cheese,” he said.

She shot him a puzzled look.

“How some women get better with a
little age on them,” he said.

“If that was supposed to be a
compliment, it wasn’t a very good one. You should never call attention to a
lady’s age, Luke.”

“But—”

“And you sure as heck shouldn’t
liken her to cheese. Wine maybe, but definitely not cheese.”

“But I—”

“Cheese is curdled milk. It brings
to mind mold and rats. And nowadays even flatulence—as in ‘cut the cheese.’”

“Hold on, Shorty, I—”

She kicked his shin under the
table. “I told you not to call me that.”

He held up his hands in surrender.
“I was just trying to say you look damn good. You get better looking every time
I see you. There. Is that okay? Jesus.”

“Why, thank you Luke. That’s sweet
of you to say. But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t blaspheme.”

He shook his head in defeat. “I
can’t win with you.”

“Not if you don’t get in the game.”
She winked a twinkling blue eye.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean. You’ve been
on the sidelines a long time now. Maybe it’s time to strap on the pads and get
back on the field.”

“I love it when you talk dirty,” he
said, struggling to keep a straight face.

She kicked at his leg again, but
this time he moved it out of the line of fire. She laughed.

He shoveled a spoonful of cobbler
in his mouth. “Umm, this is delicious.”

“Thank you. It won me a blue ribbon
at the county fair.”

The conversation lagged as they
ate. Then Luke got up and poured two cups of coffee.

“You quit coming to church,” she
said, dabbing a napkin to her lips.

“It’s been a while,” he admitted.

“You should come back. It would do
you good. You need to get out more.”

He took a sip of steaming coffee.
“Me and the Lord don’t have much use for each other these days.”

“I think I know how you feel. After
Ben died, I was so angry with God I didn’t set foot in church for weeks. Ben
was a good man, too young to be taken from me that way. A loving God wouldn’t
allow such a thing. That’s how I was thinking at the time. But I got over it.
Maybe it’s just taking you longer to get over losing Jenny. It’s all right to
be angry with God. He can take it.”

“I’m not mad at God. I can’t be mad
at something I don’t believe in.”

“Oh, Luke,” she said with
unaffected sadness.

“Let’s change the subject,” he
said. “I try to steer clear of discussing religion and politics.”

“All right. I really didn’t come
here to preach to you anyway. I came because I miss seeing you. And because I
thought maybe I could twist your arm enough to get you to have dinner with me
sometime.”

He studied her over the rim of his
cup. “You mean like a date?”

“Yes, I guess I do. We’re both
widowed. And Vinewood’s not exactly running over with hot prospects, if you
know what I mean. I like you, Luke. I’m...attracted to you. And I think you
kind of like me too. Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not wrong.”

“Well, there you go.” She smiled in
obvious relief. “And you know I’m a good cook.”

“I know you’re a fine woman.” He
paused, measuring his next words. “But I’m not sure I’m ready for that sort of
relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to you for me to get into it and then find
out I couldn’t handle it. That could make for bad feelings between us, and I
wouldn’t want that.”

Ree reached across the table and
placed her hand over his. “I appreciate that, Luke. But believe me, I can take
care of myself. I’m a big girl—even if I am short. Will you at least think
about it? About us?”

“I think about you more than you
know,” he said. He turned his hand over and held her hand in his palm. “My mama
taught me never to turn down a good home-cooked meal when the cook is a woman
of good stock.”

“Your mama was a wise woman. How
about tomorrow night? I hate to seem too eager, but I don’t want to give you
time to change your mind.”

“Tomorrow night’s good.”

She squeezed his hand, smiling
warmly. “All right then. Six o’clock. I’ll cook you up something special.”

They finished their cobbler and sat
sipping coffee, shyly smiling at each other like enamored school kids. Then she
filled him in on the latest town gossip and he listened politely, though with
little interest.

She pulled a small brown paper bag
from her purse. “Do you mind if I smoke a cigarette?”

“Go right ahead. I didn’t know you
smoked.”

She took a pack of cigarettes from
the bag, fished one out and stuck it between her lips. She fired it with a
disposable lighter, then blew a stream of smoke toward the ceiling. “I’ve quit
more times than I could count. But I just can’t seem to give them up. You have
an ashtray?”

He got up, opened a drawer under
the kitchen counter and found a souvenir ashtray from St. Augustine, Florida.
He set it in front of her. “Jenny used to smoke, but she quit the last time she
got pregnant.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“She didn’t do it much in public.
Smokers were getting a bad rap even then.”

“Don’t I know it. Ben smoked like a
chimney. A three-pack-a-day man. Probably why he had his heart attack.”

“You always carry your smokes in
the little brown bag?”

She tittered. “Ah, well, you see,
I’m going to quit smoking. That’s my motto. I’ve been saying it for years. And
to that end, I never buy them by the carton. Just a pack or two at the time.
And I won’t buy a cigarette case or a permanent lighter, because that would be
admitting that I can’t give them up. My smoking is just temporary. Get it? It’s
just one of those quirky little games people play with themselves, I guess. I
intend
to quit someday. But you know that old saying. ‘The road to hell...’”

“‘...is paved with good
intentions.’ Right. But if there’s a hell, I don’t think you’ll end up there
for smoking tobacco. If that’s your biggest vice, I don’t reckon you need to
worry.”

“You’re probably right. I do enjoy
my cigs. Life is short and the Lord can call us away anytime. I suppose I
should enjoy it while I still can.”  She knitted her brow. “I don’t guess you
heard about that poor gal who ran away from the mental hospital and got bit by
a snake.”

“No.”

“She died in the emergency room
before they could give her the anti-venom or whatever they call it.”

“Antivenin. Anybody I know?”

“No. A young girl from Vidalia.
Prominent family. They’ll likely sue Browner’s for letting her run off. At
least that’s the talk around town. Bad news spreads like kudzu vines in
Vinewood, you know.”

“Don’t you know any good news?”

She grinned. “The best news is that
you’ve accepted my invitation to dinner. I imagine
that
news flash will
be all over town in a day or two. Can’t you just imagine what they’ll say about
us?”

She ground out her cigarette in the
St. Augustine ashtray. “Well, I better head home. If I keep on talking your
ears off, you won’t want to come for dinner.”

She rinsed their bowls and left
them to soak in the sink, then he walked her to her car.

An owl hooted in the woods behind
the house. The moon peeked through a break in the clouds.

“I’m glad you stopped by,” Luke
said. “And thanks again for the cobbler.”

“There’s plenty more good
home-cooking where that came from. I’m liable to fatten you up some.” She rose
up on her toes and hugged him, then whispered in his ear. “Do me one favor.
Don’t wear that insect repellent tomorrow night.”

He chuckled. “I won’t.”

“’Night, Luke.”

“G’night. Watch out for deer on the
drive home.”

He watched her drive off, wondering
if he’d made a mistake in accepting her invitation. When her taillights winked
out of sight, he pushed the matter from his mind so he could focus on his
primary objective.

 He climbed into his pickup and
took the back roads to the bottomland where the Porch farmhouse stood at the
edge of fields gone fallow. He parked in a stand of pine trees at the edge of a
pasture, slung the gym bag from his shoulder and began the two-mile trek to his
target.

***  

“I knew we shouldn’t’ve left her,”
Joe Rob said. He was sitting on the hearth of the cold fireplace, his hands
clasped tightly as he absently did an isometric biceps exercise. Skeeter was on
the top bunk, his legs dangling over the side, feet jittering nervously in the
air.

“Don’t,” Skeeter said. “I don’t
wanna have to listen to you beat yourself up over what we shoulda done. Besides,
this is a good thing. Bad for her, but good for you. The only eyewitness is
dead.”

“You sure it’s the same girl?”

“Who else could it be? How many
nuthouse runaways you think there coulda been on Nebula Road yesterday?”

“I need to see her,” Joe Rob said.

“
Why?
”

He shrugged. “I just do. I have to
see for myself.”

“Shit, man, we—”

“You’ve got a key. We wait till
your old man comes home, then we go to the funeral home and check her out.”

“Fuck that, Joe Rob. I ain’t
worried about her. I’m worried about the sonofabitch in the Firebird. And so
should you be. Fuckin’ corpse can’t hurt us.”

“I told you, we’ll deal with that
when the time comes.”

“Yeah? How? What’re we gonna do? 
We can’t do anything without making ourselves look guilty.” He shrugged. “Maybe
the best thing to do is ignore it. Act normal.
Innocent.
If anybody asks
if we saw Odell, we say no. Nobody can prove different. Odell’s people know
he’s missing, but unless they find his body, that’s
all
they’ll know for
sure. There ain’t no way they’ll find the body. And we sure as hell ain’t gonna
tell ’em where to dig.”

Joe Rob narrowed his dark eyes and
gave Skeeter a warning look. “Unless they grab your ass and beat it out of
you.”

“Jeez, you think they would?”

“If they thought you knew
something? Hell yeah.” Joe Rob lifted the tail of his black T-shirt and drew a
pistol from the waist of his jeans. “That’s why I brought you this.”

“Your step-dad’s forty-five?”

“
My
forty-five. It’s the
only thing the bastard left me that’s worth having. That and the trust fund,
but I can’t touch that till I’m twenty-one. And by then there won’t be much
left, ’cause my grandmother gets a monthly allowance of three hundred bucks for
my care and feeding.”

He flipped the pearl-handled
automatic around and offered it butt-first to Skeeter.