Authors: James Henderson
Ceasing activity for only a minute allowed a horrific thought to take center stage: Lester flipping his lid when Sheriff Bledsoe informed him of her affair with Eric. She sat on the commode and chewed on a thumbnail.
Would Lester kill me?
She bit a nice piece of skin off the tip of her thumb and spit it on the floor.
Yes, he just might.
When she’d stepped inside, Lester asked, “What did Sheriff Bledsoe want?” She’d shrugged and said, “Nothing.”
She couldn’t tell him the truth; it sounded so crazy: Eric and I had an affair, I broke it off and Eric got mad and tried to frame me with Daddy’s murder by planting poison and neck bones on our back porch, and now Sheriff Bledsoe wants you and me at the station because he’s not sure we didn’t have anything to do with the poison and neck bones.
There was a knock at the door. “Ruthie, you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
Tell him?
She picked up a tube of Crest toothpaste and tossed it in the air…Tails, she would tell him a modified version of the truth…Heads, she wouldn’t tell him shit…The tube landed on the floor, the backside showing…
Shit!
She got up and opened the door. Lester stood in the hallway, brow furrowed.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I was just cleaning the bathroom.”
Uh-uh!
He would have to hear it from someone else, and still she would deny it.
“Something’s wrong, Ruthie. I can feel it. Talk to me. It’s that no-good Eric Barnes, isn’t it? He’s done something to Shirley, hasn’t he?”
Ruth Ann nodded. In a circuitous way he was right. “Yes, Lester, I guess you can say that.”
“What has he done now?”
She wondered if he could tell she was shaking like a cheap vibrator. “I’m not quite sure, honey. I better get over to Shirley’s and see if she’s all right.” She started past him and almost screamed when she felt his hand on her shoulder.
“What did you just call me?” Lester asked.
Had she called him Eric? Lord, she hoped not.
“You called me honey,” Lester said.
“I-I did? I didn’t mean to. I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately.”
Lester embraced her and kissed her nose. “Ruthie, honey, there’s no need to apologize. You don’t know how long I’ve wished you call me something affectionate. I love you, Ruthie.” He hugged her tighter and kissed her again. “I love you so much.”
“I know you do.” She cleared her throat and added, “Honey.”
“Oh Ruthie, oh Ruthie!” smothering her with kisses.
“Lester,” attempting to pull free. “Lester…honey…I’ve got to go. I’ll be back as soon as I check on Shirley.”
Lester released her. As she started out the door she took a look over her shoulder…
What the hell
leaking down his face? Water? Oh, my goodness!
Lester was crying. She hurried to her car.
So caught up in her thoughts she drove right past the jail.
Tears!
Lester was actually crying!
One of two tragedies might happen, she thought as she drove past the city limits: Lester would kill her or Lester would hurt himself again in another foolhardy suicide attempt. Either way she would lose. Another self-inflicted injury and that damn burn mark Lester would have even Judge Hatchett eating out of his hand.
Another potential problem troubled her concentration, jangled her nerves. A problem far more terrifying than anything Lester might do. A problem twice as destructive and life-threatening as Irene and Katrina combined.
Shirley!
“Damn!” she shouted, realizing she’d driven past the jail and almost into the next county. She made a U-turn. All four Michelins squealed and the speedometer zipped from thirty- to sixty- to ninety-miles-per-hour.
The clock on the dash read eight-thirty. Twenty minutes late. Right now Sheriff Bledsoe could be talking to Lester on the phone. At a hundred and twenty-miles-per-hour the Expedition began to rattle.
About two miles before the Dawson city limits, she saw something up ahead, standing in the middle of the road. The descending sun, a gigantic fireball spilling across the horizon, distorted her view.
What the hell is it? A cow?
No, too tall for a cow. Whatever it was it stood on two legs.
Bigfoot?
Had to be. Just her damn luck, the day her life hung in the balance Bigfoot crossed her path. She maintained her speed. Bigfoot or Littlefoot, it was no match for the Expedition. Thirty feet from impact she floored the brakes.
The Expedition went into a rubber-burning fishtail, almost tilting over, then spun around two times before stopping short of a two-foot ditch.
Ruth Ann sat there, dazed, clutching the steering wheel. She wasn’t sure, but the thing she initially thought Bigfoot was her baby sister, Shirley.
The passenger door opened and Shirley stuck her head inside. “Ruth Ann, you all right? What were you trying to do, run me over?”
Ruth Ann simply stared at her.
Shirley got in and closed the door. “Where’s the fire? Why you driving so fast? Didn’t you see me when you first flew by?”
“Why…were…you…” She paused and took a deep breath. “Why were you standing in the middle of the road?”
“I’m on my way to the jail. Eric’s in trouble again. Where you going like a bat out of hell?”
Ruth Ann started to speak, then started choking. Shirley rapped her on the back with a flat hand. “You okay?” Whap! “You okay?” Whap! “Huh?”
“Shirley…stop…Shit! I’m okay. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. You in a hurry? Could you drop me off at the jail?”
Ruth Ann ignored her and steered the car back onto the road and drove much slower.
“Pep it up, girl,” Shirley said. “You’re going fifteen-miles-per-hour. Somebody’s going to come along and knock your rear off. Can you drop me off?”
“Hello, you wanna drive?”
“What’s with the attitude? What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, Shirley. Man trouble, you know?”
“Same here. No telling what trouble Eric has gotten himself into now. I think he got caught up in some mess with some woman at the Blinky Motel. Ruth Ann, I swear, sometimes I curse the day I met him. Sometimes I could just…” She raised her hands and pantomimed squeezing. “I could just choke him, choke the shit out of him. I guess…well,
I know
I love him.”
“What did Eric say when he called you?”
“You know I don’t have a phone. Darlene, my neighbor, saw Sheriff Bledsoe escorting Eric in handcuffs and she came over and told me. I would’ve asked her to give me a ride, but she can’t stand Eric.”
“Where? Where did she see Sheriff Bledsoe and Eric?”
“Where do you think? At the jail. By the time we get there, Eric will be released for time served. Ruth Ann, we didn’t go this slow at Daddy’s funeral--speed it up.”
Ruth Ann accelerated to seventeen-miles-per-hour. Thirty minutes later, just as a full moon was rising, Ruth Ann parked to the left of Sheriff Bledsoe’s cruiser.
Shirley opened the door to get out and Ruth Ann put a hand on her shoulder. “Shirley, you remember what I said? I love you. I’ll always love you no matter what. It may come a time you think I didn’t mean it, that I was bullshitting. I truly meant it…every word…with all my heart. You gotta believe me, Shirley!”
“Yeah. Sure,” eager to go inside. A moth flew in and fluttered against the interior light.
“I double-double meant it. No matter what happens in the future, Shirley, I meant it. Even if you beat me down to a bloody pulp and gouge my eyes out and kick me in the stomach, I’ll still love you, Shirley. It’s important to me you know that. Though I wish you wouldn’t kick me in the stomach ’cause you know my stomach is super sensitive. You remember the time I got hit in the stomach with a volley ball and--”
“Ruth Ann, what in the hell are you talking about? Did you hit your head back there?”
“I’m sorry, Shirley, all I’m trying to say. I really am.”
“Is Lester fooling around? You can tell me. Is he?”
There was a tap on the window, and Ruth Ann almost jumped out of her seat.
Sheriff Bledsoe said, “Didn’t mean to give you a start. Y’all can join us anytime.”
“I don’t want to go,” Ruth Ann muttered when Sheriff Bledsoe went back inside.
“Stay here,” Shirley said. “Eric’s not your problem.” She stepped out. “Unfortunately he’s mine.”
Ruth Ann sat there for a while, wondering what degree of physical injury she would suffer before Sheriff Bledsoe pulled Shirley off her. She got out, shuffled to the door, stopped and prayed.
Lord, help me out here and I promise I’ll start doing the right thing. I’ll go to church regularly. I’ll tithe. Be faithful in my marriage…until I file for divorce. I’ll even bring Shane home to stay with me. Amen.
She took a deep breath and opened the door.
Chapter 18
“Think about it, Sheriff,” Eric said from the backseat of the cruiser. “Only a fool would sneak up to somebody’s house with neck bones.”
“Only a fool?” looking at him in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah, hell yeah!” Eric pressed his face to the metal grate. “I didn’t do it, Sheriff. The shit was there when I got there.”
Sheriff Bledsoe patted his front pocket for the Pepsid AC package. He needed something to soothe the pain in his chest in a bad way. Not finding it, he remembered the Pepto Bismol bottle, unscrewed it with one hand and took a long drink.
Eric rattled on, emphatically claiming his innocence. Though Sheriff Bledsoe tuned him out, he realized Eric’s denial had a ring of truth to it. Eric’s brain was in his shorts, but he wasn’t dumb enough to run around with neck bones and poison underneath his shirt.
It didn’t make sense.
If Eric didn’t plant the stuff, who did? Lester? Ruth Ann?
Sheriff Bledsoe burped and felt a burning sensation rise from his chest to his throat to his nasal cavities.
Geez, that hurt.
Eric rattled on.
He wondered if DNA testing could determine if the neck bones on the porch were from the same batch in Larry’s stomach.
“Sheriff?” Eric shouted.
He couldn’t charge Chatterbox with such flimsy evidence. Nor could he charge Ruth Ann or Lester because he’d caught Chatterbox with the box in hand. The pain in his chest moved to his lower back. He leaned forward, but it didn’t lessen the agony.
Eric pounded on the grate with his head. “Sheriff! Sheriff, are you listening to me?”