Authors: John Locke
“I believe all those things are true,” I say.
Detective Tan says, “So do I. But there’s no proof, and drunk babbling does not a confession make.”
“Why not?”
“The defense team will hire ten psychiatrists who’ll swear that drunk people often confess to crimes they’ve never committed. And they’re right. By way of example, my wife had too much to drink one night, and—I shit you not—confessed to killing Elvis.”
“Maybe she did.”
“She was eight months old when Elvis died.”
“I’m assuming you didn’t haul her ass to jail.”
“No. And I won’t be hauling Renee there, either.”
“What about the gun?”
“She’s got a permit. We’re doing ballistics on it, but my guess is it’ll come back clean.”
“Why am I alive?”
“That I can’t answer, assuming your story’s true. If it is, you’re one lucky son of a bitch.”
I go back to Trudy’s room and give her a kiss on the cheek.
“Is he bothering you, Trudy?” Clem says.
“Can you give us some privacy, Clem?” she says.
“No. My orders are to stay here the entire time he’s in the room.”
“That was when they were sortin’ things out. They cleared Dr. Box of any wrong-doing. The only reason you’re here is to protect me from Daddy and Darrell.”
“Until the Sheriff himself changes my orders, I’ll follow the ones I’ve been given.”
She sighs.
I say, “Do we really care if he hears us talk?”
“Why wouldn’t we?”
“It’s a small town. Within an hour he’ll know everything we said anyway.”
“I don’t care. I’m not answering any personal questions as long as he’s in the room.”
“I’ll respect that. How much did the detective tell you?”
“A hell of a lot more than you did.”
“Like what?”
“Like how you took a shower after letting Renee in the room because you wanted to get cleaned up for her after spending several hours in jail.”
“What? How did he know that? I just told him five minutes ago! And anyway, there’s a simple explanation for—”
“He also told me how you asked her to monitor the phone in case you received any important calls, and that’s how she was able to call me, and of course there’s the little part about how she ordered you a big room service dinner, and how you drank a bottle of wine together—”
“She drank the wine, I just—”
“And how you painted her toenails, and—”
“At gunpoint!”
“He said she was completely naked, and—”
“Just from the waist down!” I say, outraged.
“Can you hear how this might be taken the wrong way?”
“Yes, but—”
“He told me you got her drunk.”
“Yes, but—”
“I’m so proud of you!”
“What? You are?”
“Oh, for the love of God!” Clem says, from his post, on the other side of the room.
“Shut up, Clem!” Trudy says. To me she says, “I’ve spent all night thinking about your offer, and I’ve decided if you’re still interested, I’ll go to New York City with you. On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“We can’t ask each other any questions about our past.”
“That’s nuts!”
“We start fresh. Beginning right now.”
“I think I have a right to know what happened at the fence.”
She sighs. “And I have a right to know what you were hoping to do with Zander at the riverbank, with your pants around your ankles. But you know what? I’ve got the good taste not to ask.”
“That’s a copout!” I say. “A one-time thing. From what I hear about the fence—”
“Gideon,” she says. “Look at me.”
I do as she says.
“Do you really care what happened at the fence?”
“Yes,” I say. “Absolutely!”
“Is it more important than us? Think before answering.”
I pause a moment.
And another.
Then say, “No.”
She smiles. “Right answer. Now kiss me. Very gently.”
I look for a place on her face that isn’t swollen, bandaged, or bruised.
“Where?” I say.
“Surprise me.”
Trudy Lake.
BECAUSE OF DARRELL’S impendin’ court date, and Daddy’s hearin’, and my continuin’ divorce battle, I tell Gideon to go back to New York, and I’ll meet him in two weeks. With Renee on the watch list of three county police departments, and Cletus and Renfro dead, and Darrell banged up to the point he can’t blink his eyes without shittin’ his pants, I reckon I’ll be safe in Clayton till then.
Gideon wants to put me up in a hotel until my affairs are settled, but for the first time in my life I have an organized plan to move away, and I’m lookin’ forward to packin’ the items I’d like to take.
Gideon’s worried about Daddy, but Daddy’s not an issue. He’s in Logan, bein’ cared for by Renee. So it makes sense for me to stay in my own home for the next two weeks.
“I don’t like it,” he says, imitatin’ Clem, to make me smile.
The hospital doctor works his way to my room around noon, and clears me to check out. An hour later, I’m sittin’ in a wheel chair out front with an orderly at my side, squintin’ against the harsh sunlight, waitin’ for Gideon to drive up in his rental car and whisk me home.
When I’m settled in the car, he says, “Are you up for a short trip?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I need to meet someone.”
“Who?”
“Faith Hemphill.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Yes. Absolutely. Why do you ask?”
I frown. “Is this gonna be a regular thing with you?”
“What?”
“The women, Gideon. Every time I turn around you’re with one woman or another, and either her pants are off, or yours are around your ankles.”
“This meeting’s about you,” he says.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Well I’ve got no interest in meetin’ her!”
“Why not?”
“Did you not drive two full hours a few days ago hopin’ to bang her?”
“Yes. But I learned a valuable lesson that day, with her, Zander, and Renee.”
“To keep your dick in your pants?”
“Yes.”
“Promise it.”
“As long as you’re willing to stay with me, I promise to keep my dick in my pants.”
I laugh.
“What?”
“You just basically promised we’ll never have sex.”
“I did?”
“Rewind it in your head.”
He does. Then says, “That didn’t come out right. I need a mulligan.”
“Too late,” I say. “You already made the promise.”
TURNS OUT WE’RE meeting Faith Hemphill at the half-way mark to her house because she has sea horses she can’t leave for more than four hours at a time. When I see her I’m no longer jealous. She looks old enough to be Gideon’s mom, and burly enough to play offensive tackle for the Tennessee Titans.
The reason we’re meetin’ Faith makes less sense than the idea of Gideon datin’ her in the first place. She’s here to sell him some sort of powder that can disable people, and make ’em crazy enough to shoot each other by mistake.
The three of us are standin’ in a vacant lot where a gas station used to be. It’s all hush-hush, like some sort of big-time drug deal.
Gideon says, “You brought the powder packets?”
Faith says, “You brought the cash?”
When they make the exchange I laugh out loud.
Faith raises her chin at me and says, “Is that her? The one you felt up?”
I say, “You told her that?”
“Renfro told me first,” Faith says. She casts a careful eye on me and says, “You’re puny.” To Gideon, she says, “Couldn’t a’ taken you five seconds to feel whatever she’s got in that little trainin’ bra.”
“At least I get measured for my bras,” I say. “Instead of surveyed.”
“Ladies, please!” Gideon says.
“Sorry,” Faith says. “That was me bein’ jealous.”
“Me too,” I say. “So, this powder really works?”
“Ask Cletus and Renfro,” she says.
I walk over to her, and we shake hands.
“How does it work?” I say.
“You any good at chuckin’ rocks?”
I smile. “What kind of country girl would I be if I couldn’t chuck rocks?”
Faith says, “Gideon, walk away from us a minute.”
When he gets about fifteen feet away, she calls him by name. He turns to look at us, and Faith hurls a dust bomb at him.
Gideon screams as it explodes on his chest.
Faith says, “Don’t be such a pussy. That ain’t nothin’ but flour and bakin’ soda.”
“You could’ve warned me,” Gideon says, slappin’ the powder off his clothes.
She hands me a packet and says, “Now you try. Remember to fling it hard.”
I hurl the packet at Gideon and he explodes into a cloud of flour for the second time.
“Damn it!” he shouts.
“Shouldn’t I aim for the face?” I say.
“The chest is a bigger target. You hit a man’s chest with the blindin’ powder, it’ll put him on the ground quick.”
“What if he closes his eyes at the last second?”
“The glass and pepper dust hangs in the air. After a man’s been hit, he’ll open his eyes. It’s a natural reaction. When he does, the glass and pepper gets in there and burns like hell. He’ll rub his eyes to ease the pain, but what he’s really doin’ is rubbing ground glass into his eyeballs. It’s brutal.”
“I don’t think I can do that to a person,” I say.
“If your life’s on the line you’ll use it and wish you had more.”
“On the bright side, everyone who wants to hurt me is either dead or hurt.”
“I hope you’re right. But I’m still keepin’ the money Doc Box give me just now.”
“You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think Gideon was at your place when Cletus and Renfro broke in.”
She gives Gideon a look and says, “Why would you think that?”
“My husband sent them to kill Gideon, not you. Dumb as they were, they would’ve known if his car was at your place. They wouldn’t have broken into your house unless they knew he was in there.”
“I expect you’ll keep those thoughts to yourself,” she says.
“What thoughts?” I say.
She smiles.
“I could learn to like you,” she says.
“I already like you.”
“Why’s that?”
I point at Gideon.
We laugh.
“Kiss my ass!” he says.
“That’s Trudy’s job,” Faith says, “though I don’t know why she’d want it.”
“YOU BOUGHT TEN packets from her?” I say, after Faith leaves.
“I only wanted two, but she needs another tank.”
“Is that supposed to make sense?” I say.
“Her seahorse tanks cost a thousand bucks each. She wouldn’t sell me less than a thousand dollars’ worth of powder.”
“What’ll you do with the other eight packets?”
“Keep them for our protection in the city. Can you imagine someone trying to mug us and getting a face full of blinding powder? It’s a ridiculously effective weapon, with a shelf life of forever. And you don’t need a permit to carry it.”
“Sounds like you’re in hog heaven.”
“I feel like the caveman who discovered fire,” he says.
“Powerful?”
“You know it.”
“Maybe I’d respect that power more if you didn’t look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy,” I say.
“Right.”
“Want some help gettin’ that flour off your clothes?”
“All help would be greatly appreciated.”
I start punchin’ his back and sides.
“Ow!” he yells. “What the hell?”
“You seemed to take pleasure beatin’ me up. I want to see if I get the same rush.”
“Stop!”
“What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t enjoy hitting you. And I’ll never do it again.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t heard an apology yet.”
“Apology? For what?”
“Uh…for hittin’ me? Hello?”
“You made me do it.”
“To save your ass from a felony assault charge.”
He thinks about it a minute, then says, “You’re right. You took all that pain for me, and
didn’t have to. I think I’ve been looking at this from my own, selfish point of view. As usual.”
“I’m listenin’,” I say.
“I thought by running over Darrell I saved you from a much worse beating. But once Darrell was incapacitated, you could’ve let the police come to the barn and draw their own conclusions. And if that happened, they would’ve thrown me in jail and Darrell would’ve had a legal case against me.”
“You just now came to that conclusion?”
He says, “I’m sorry, Trudy.”
“For?”
“For hitting you.”
“You’re forgiven. Now let’s get you cleaned up.”
“Okay, but slap, don’t punch, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Ouch! Shit! Slap my clothes, not my face!”
“Sorry.”
When we get to my place, Gideon insists on checkin’ each room. He makes sure all the doors and windows are locked. Peeks in the closets and under the beds. Here’s a guy that came to town a few days ago thinkin’ about no one but himself. Now he’s practically dotin’ on me.
I like it.
But he needs to get back to Nashville and catch a flight.
“I’ll be fine,” I say.
“Okay.”
He reviews for the third time how he’s booked a limo to drive here from Nashville to pick me up in two weeks. He gets on my computer and prints out the airline reservation and tells me how to check my bags.
“You’ve never flown before,” he says. “I don’t want you to be nervous.”
“I’m not the least bit nervous. I’m excited!”
“The driver will take you to the airport. You’re flying non-stop to LaGuardia Airport. When you get to the gate—”
“When I get to the gate, I’ll go to baggage claim,” I say. “You’ll be standin’ there with a limo driver. Got it. Now go on, before you miss your flight.”
“I hate to leave you here without a car. How will you get to your attorney meetings and all the other places you’ll need to be?”
“Kennon will drive me anywhere I need to go durin’ the day. At night, while she’s at work, I’ll be right here, safe and sound.”
“I wish you had neighbors.”
“I’ve got neighbors on both sides.”
“What, a mile away?”
“Quarter mile at most. I can run a sixty-second quarter, by the way.”