"Honey, if you'll make it a moonless night so all our cellulite and baggy skin don't show, we'll gladly go skinny dipping with you, but you'd probably have a better time if you went with Slade," Ellen said.
Slade blushed. "No thanks."
High color filled Jane's cheeks. "Chicken?"
"No, just protecting your young innocent eyes," he said.
It was near dark when they finished eating and drove a mile up Highway 81 to the Mini-Mart, where they turned right and parked in the first available place. Everyone lined up at the back of the truck to claim a lawn chair and then carried them past the post office, the fire station, the old Methodist church, and to the center of town.
The four ladies lined their chairs up in a row and commenced to talking about the past Fourth of July celebrations they'd attended together. Slade and Jane sat behind them on the steps of the old Methodist church, which had been boarded up for years.
Jane loved listening to them talk, even when various people stopped by to visit a spell. They discussed the weather and wondered if it could get any hotter and people not start dropping like flies; who died; who had babies; who moved away; the fire in 2005 that almost wiped out Ringgold; the watermelon crop and whether there'd be enough to last through the festival in a few weeks.
"What festival?" Jane asked.
"Watermelon. They've had it for as long as I can remember. Granny first brought me when I was eight. They set up tables and give away ice cold watermelon all day. Vendors come and line the streets with their wares and there's games and contests. It used to be bigger and then it fizzled for a few years. Now there's a committee that oversees everything and it's growing again, only now they call it the Terral Festival or something like that," Slade explained.
"Hey, what happened to number five? I just realized y'all mentioned there being five of you. Where's number five?" Jane asked in a lull when there were just the four of them.
"She died about ten years ago. It was a sad day for us. She got married and moved away when we were all about nineteen. At least they were all nineteen. You got to remember I'm a lot younger than these old girls," Ellen said.
"I'm sorry," Jane said.
"She came back every year about this time and we'd have this big party at Jeannie's momma's old place. It was just a little frame house and her momma had been gone for years, but Jeannie kept it just like it was back then. It had beds and a full kitchen and a living room and this wonderful old gazebo out back," Myra said.
"And we'd all get together for a few days, get drunker'n old women ever should, and remember all the good times we'd had," Nellie said.
"In Ringgold?" Jane asked.
"No, in Chico."
"You told me you were going to a friend's house for Bible studies," Slade said to Nellie.
"I was. Jeannie's momma had a Bible on the coffee table," she told him bluntly.
"Anyway, when number five died, we put her picture on a little raft we made with Popsicle sticks, set it on fire, and pushed it out into the pond where we'd skinny dipped," Jeannie said. "It was truly a funeral worthy of a queen."
"Did she have children?" Jane asked.
"One," Nellie answered.
"Oh, look, they're about to start the big show," Myra said.
Jane hopped up. "I'm going for a snow cone before it starts. Anyone else want one?"
"Blue coconut," Slade said.
The rest declined and she headed toward the stand at a trot so she wouldn't miss any of the show. She ordered a blue coconut and a salty dog and was on her way back when she stepped on a piece of paper and saw two elderly women pointing at her at the same time. She stopped and looked at the paper stuck to her sandal and there she was, in living color, wearing a white robe and looking like pure hell. For a moment she wondered if the picture was computer generated. She'd never worn a robe like that except when she got out of the pool.
Maybe she hadn't caught a lucky break after all when she got off the bus in Wichita Falls. Maybe she'd just prolonged a really unlucky streak.
Another look and she remembered John taking it with his digital camera. It had been an issue because she didn't want him to snap it. Her hair was wet and limp and hanging in her face. Her makeup had long since washed off and she'd just jerked the robe on to cover her bikini. She looked exactly like Ramona had described her on the phone. Drugged out and slightly deranged. The white robe could easily be mistaken for hospital attire. How very convenient. She picked up the flier and read what she could by the low lights.
Ellacyn Jane Hayes had escaped from an institution, blah, blah, blah. The same story Ramona had told her on the phone.
When Jane looked up several other people were holding the fliers and looking around the grounds. Evil had come to their little town. The insane lunatic might be hiding behind the trees ready to jump out and nab a child while a firecracker was being popped to cover the sound of the screams.
"Have you seen this woman?" Ramona was asking the snow cone operator. "We had word she was last seen working for Nellie Luckadeau at the Double L Ranch."
"Can't say I have. Nellie don't usually hire help, though. Wait a minute. She does look familiar. No, I'm wrong. I'd remember someone that helpless lookin'," the lady said.
Jane's heart raced, blood pumping through her veins so fast and furious that she got dizzy. Her stomach clenched up into knots. She made herself pretend to study the poster as she carried the snow cones in one hand toward the pickup truck. Thank goodness she still had the keys in her purse and she'd brought it along to buy the snow cones.
She tossed the snow cones along with the flier at the last minute and was about to crawl into the truck when a hand touched her shoulder. Adrenaline rushing and flight mode kicking in, she doubled up her fist and drew back to begin the fight. She might wind up dead but they were going to have a hard job. A big fist closed over her hand in mid air.
"You about to steal my truck?" Slade said.
"Yes, I was. But I was just going home in it."
He shoved a flier in her face. "Got anything to do with this horrible picture of you?"
She nodded.
"Damn, I hate to miss the fireworks show, but I guess we'd better get you out of the limelight. Folks around here wouldn't cotton to you stealing their thunder tonight. They put on a fine show. If the FBI was to handcuff you and lead you off to the unmarked black van which is sitting across the street, that's what the folks would talk about for a month. No one would remember much about the show." The whole time he talked he was leaning in toward her ear as if he was propositioning her.
"What in the hell are you doing?"
"Nod."
She did exactly as he said.
He pulled out his billfold and handed her a dollar bill.
"Fold it up and stuff it into your bra, then get in the truck. Don't slide all the way over. Stay in the middle and put your hand on my neck and toy with my hair while we drive away. There's a man in the van and he's looking right at us," Slade said.
She did.
"Want to explain what the hell is going on that the FBI is looking for you?"
"FBI?"
"They're flashing credentials back there. That is you on the flier, isn't it?"
"It is, but I'm not deranged and I've never been in an institution. Why would the FBI want me if I wasn't in my right mind?"
"That's what Ellen asked them. They said you'd witnessed a murder and they needed you for testimony. Granny whispered I was to take you home and wait for her to get there. She doesn't want to leave for fear she'll cause them to follow her."
"I'm so sorry and believe me, those two are not FBI agents. That's just a scare tactic."
"You know them? By the way, you can scoot over now and you can stop playing with my neck," he said.
She blushed. "I don't know where to start, but I damn sure don't want to tell this story but once, so I'm waiting until Nellie gets home to do it."
Ten minutes later they were sitting in strained silence in the living room. Half an hour after that, the four ladies came rushing through the door, all of them talking at once.
"Okay, here's the deal. Your grandmother was Olivia Ranger, right?" Ellen said.
"How did you know that?" Jane was stunned. Besides, what did her grandmother have to do with what was happening right then?
"Fate. I believe in fate, Jane. I always have and always will. If Slade had been able to take us to the bus station that morning I wouldn't have been driving. If I hadn't been driving I wouldn't have been so shook up that I had to sit awhile after I put Ellen on the bus back to Amarillo. That's the reason I was sitting there to begin with and you got off that bus and sat down beside me. At first I thought I was seeing a damn ghost," Nellie said.
"Then she called me when she talked you into going home with her," Ellen said, "and I came back as soon as I could. Myra and Jeannie had been out of pocket so we couldn't play poker like we usually do on Friday nights, so we didn't tell them, but they figured it out on their own last Friday night."
"Poker?" Slade looked stunned.
"Keep your eye on the big picture, son," Nellie said.
Jane still didn't understand.
"Here," Nellie pulled a photograph from a drawer and handed it to Jane.
"Who are these people and what has it got to do with… oh, my, that's my grandmother isn't it? And there is Ellen and Nellie and… she's number five. You are JoNell. Grandmother talked about her friend, JoNell. And Ellie and Jean and Myra. But I always thought she was saying Mara."
"We just want to know, what you are running from?" Jeannie said.
Jane nodded. It was time to 'fess up, so she began, "There's two of them posing as FBI. John was my fiancé. He pretended Ramona was his sister, but she's not. My stepfather put out a contract on me. If I'm dead before I'm twenty-five, Ranger Oil goes to him. When the assassin saw me, he decided to put a play of his own into effect. He insured me for a million dollars. After we were married he'd kill me, collect the insurance
and
the contract fee. My stepdad would be the grief-stricken father who'd lost his last link with his dead wife; I'm not so sure he didn't have something to do with her death and my father's. My fiancé would be the poor widower who'd lost his wife on their honeymoon."
"Good God," Slade exclaimed.
"He is that," Jeannie said. "He sent you to us to protect. And by damn we're going to do it. Didn't you know your grandmother was from these parts?"
"No ma'am. I just knew she was born in Texas and moved to El Dorado when she married. My mother and I were both born there. Then we moved to Greenville when I was a little girl to run the oil company office there."
"Slade, pack a bag. You are taking a much-needed vacation and you are leaving your truck here. You'll be driving my Caddy."
"I'm not going anywhere." He crossed his arms over his chest. He'd been right. By golly, he had been right when he said there was something not kosher about that girl. Just look at the mess she'd drug his family into. No sir, he wasn't going to step foot outside the door with her.
"That's where you are wrong, son," Nellie said.
"I'm so sorry I've brought this to you all. If you'll take me to a bus station I'll go somewhere else," she said.
"You'll do no such thing. Slade is taking you and protecting you for the next two weeks. Slade, you go open the safe and load up a briefcase with some cash. Credit cards leave a paper trail. Get one of those little cell phones that you can use once and throw away or better yet, mail it to Alaska so if they can trace it like they do on CSI, they'll be following a cold trail. Call me every other night and get rid of the thing. We'll keep them here as long as we can. They'll be showing up on my doorstep probably tomorrow morning but I reckon I can spin a few lies," Nellie said.
"And if she falls down on the job, I swear I can blow the damn bottom out of that commandment about not tellin' lies," Ellen assured them.
"Granny, this is ridiculous. Just call the sheriff and tell him to come on out here. We'll explain it all and the government will crucify them for posing as FBI," Slade said.
Nellie ignored him. "A rolling stone is a hard target. You'll be staying in a place no more than one night. Always check in the hotels under a different name than you used the last time. Luckadeau is a name they'd spot a mile away. You surprise me, Slade. I figured you'd have enough of your father in you to want to be the knight in shining armor."
"Jane is not a damsel in distress, Granny."
All four women turned their eyes on him.
"I'm not caving in. I'm staying right here. Give her your Caddy if you are so sure she's telling the truth. Maybe she really is a deranged crazy who only appears sane at odd times."
"She's Ellacyn Jane Hayes, one of my best friend's kin and in Texas, that ain't no jokin' matter," Nellie said.
Slade wasn't being railroaded into two weeks in the confines of a twenty-year-old Cadillac with Jane Day or Hayes or whatever her name was. The whole sordid tale she'd told sounded like something an institution escapee would tell. When the ladies thought about it for a while they'd realize they were caught up in the moment of playing detective. He wouldn't call the FBI number on the flier and that's as much leeway as he intended to give.