She's smoothing her hair, rennin' her hands down her dress, supposed to be straightening it and all, you see.
"Then she takes off for the nearest ladies' room, where Matt and Gibb are waitin'. She locks the door, they change into clothes she'd stashed there earlier, then the three of them walk out the front door, get into her car, and drive away, pretty as you please.
"Several people saw them leavin' the courthouse. They smiled, shook hands, said they'd just been granted bail, and wasn't that great. Justice had prevailed. The system works.
Stuff like that. Brass balls is what them Burnwoods've got.
"Wiley, poor ol' cuss, didn't even realize what happened.
When the shit hit the fan,, he was reared back in his chair, passin' the time till Miss Lottie returned from refreshin' herself in the ladies' room by day-dreamin' 'bout the view he'd had up her dress. He was still so dazed, he didn't even know his prisoners were out!"
"Where are they now?"
"How long have they been gone?"
"Hold on, cousins. I'll get around to it all. Could sure use something to wet my whistle, though," Lee Simon said, eyeing the bar.
Henry signaled the bartender, who brought the deputy a beer. "Ain't s'posed to drink while in uniform, but nobody's gonna be noticing my beer breath, what with all that hullabaloo going on over there today." He slurped the head off his draft.
"I ain't seed him for myself, but they say this FBI agent, Pepperdyne hell of a name, huh?they say that when word of the breakout reached Hilton, he pitched a conniption fit. He wants to know how come an old man with his head up his ass is guardin' federal prisoners. Asked who left al' Wiley in charge. They said if words could kill, everybody over there, includin' men on Pepperdyne's own team, would be deader 'n doornails. He's on the warpath."
"How'd Lottie get them out of town?" Henry asked.
"The way they figure it, she had another car waiting. Just before I tore off for here, I heard tell they'd found hers under a bridge out on the highway. Nobody saw them make the switch. All the Burnwoods' vehicles are accounted for. She musta got hold of a car somewhere, but nobody knows what it is. They're long gone, is my guess."
"To where?"
Lee Simon shrugged his knobby shoulders. "It's anybody's guess, I reckon."
"No ideas?" Luther asked.
"Well, there's talk around the courthouse. Gossip, mostly."
He took another noisy sip of beer. "Everybody thinks they'll go after Matt's ex-wife to shut her up. That's why this Pepperdyne's throwing such a shit fit. She's the one who's saying they killed that chink that disappeared from the jailhouse. Get this said they cut off his pecker and crucified him," he whispered.
Henry and Luther exchanged a look of disgust over the lawmen's ineptitude. Henry said, "We heard she gave the slip to the marshals who were bringing her back to testify."
"It's true. Nobody knows where she's at." Lee Simon lowered his voice.
"Bet y'all wish ya did."
"Right you are, Lee Simon. You're not near as stupid as you are ugly."
Lee Simon beamed at the praise of his older, tougher, meaner cousins. "My ma says y'all blame Mrs. Burnwood for landing Billy Joe in prison. She says your mama ain't got over it yet."
Billy Joe had eventually recovered from his wound and was sent to a rehabilitation hospital, where he was fitted with a prosthesis. He hadn't yet mastered it when he attacked one of his therapists. Using the mechanical arm as a weapon, he inflicted serious damage to the man's head.
This time, he was tried as an adult, convicted, and was currently serving time in the Central Corrections Institute.
Billy Joe's misfortunes could be directly traced back to the public defender in Prosper, who had double-crossed the family.
"We should never have trusted her," Henry said with a mean, bitter slant to his mouth. "What do quips know about lawyering?"
"Not a damn thing," Luther replied. "Or our little brother wouldn't be in prison."
"And he'd still have his right arm."
Lee Simon drained his mug and belched rudely in an attempt to impress his cousins. "I better get back. Knew y'all'd want to know the latest."
The brothers absently muttered goodbye. Luther got up and assumed Lee Simon's place so that he could face his brother.
They stared at each other across the table until after a while, Luther asked, "What're you thinking, Henry?"
"What're you thinking?"
"I asked you first."
Henry tapped his chin like a scholar contemplating a tricky law of physics. "It'd be a crying shame if somebody even Gibb and Matt killed Mrs. Burnwood before we got a chance.
"A damn crying shame."
"I couldn't look myself in the mirror no more."
"It's a matter of family pride."
"Honor."
"We swore to Ma we'd get even with Kendall Burnwood for everything that happened to Billy Joe."
"She oughtn't to have crossed us Crooks."
"If we're gonna keep our vow to Ma"
"We got to find her-before they do." Henry slid from the booth and motioned for his brother to follow. "Let's go see what Mama thinks."
Mama thought it was a splendid idea. She even added an incentive that the twins hadn't thought of but that was quite compatible with their own reasons for wanting to get Kendall Burnwood.
With a wicked twinkle in her eyes, Mama posed a question to the twins: "Who's to say what old man Bu rnwood might do if we take care of his problem for him? Huh? He's got plenty of money, don't he?"
Henry was the first to catch Mama's drift. He winked at his brother. "Bet he'd be willing to part with some cash, if he was spared having to account for hisself in court."
When the story of the Brotherhood broke and the Crooks learned that there was a group of vigilantes operating in their midst, they'd been incensed but only because they hadn't been invited to join. Striving to keep Prosper racially pure and free of foreigners sounded like a great idea to them, and they couldn't comprehend men being punished for it.
Of course, they never guessed that it was Judge Fargo who had ordered Billy Joe's arm to be severed to teach both him and Kendall Burnwood a hard lesson on respect. Nor did they know that they, too, had been targeted for special punishment for daring to threaten a Burnwood, specifically Kendall. How ever, because of more pressing matters, the Brotherhood had been forced to sideline their cases.
Erroneously, the Crook clan held Kendall responsible for their calamities. From the day Billy Joe was taken from them, they had been planning their revenge. Breaking her wind shield, the threatening letters, and the dead rat had been only warm-ups.
In order to vandalize her office, they had enlisted Lee Simon's help. He had slipped them into the building after hours. In return, the twins had procured a woman who, for twenty dollars, agreed to spend a whole night with Lee Simon. The twins had considered this a bargain; their cousin had been beside himself with glee.
Their plan, as outlined by Mama, was to continue harassing Mrs. Burnwood until she had a fatal "accident." Only she would know, moments before dying, that the Crooks had gotten their vengeance.
Unfortunately, before the grand finale could be staged, Mrs. Burnwood had left town for parts unknown. Angry and frustrated over the setback, Henry and Luther had gotten roaring drunk and burned down a hay barn just to make themselves feel better.
Their vows of revenge had not been forgotten, however.
Their hatred of Kendall Burnwood had not abated in the year since her disappearance. When they heard that she had been located in Colorado and was being transported back to South Carolina, they had celebrated with another drinking binge and the deflowering of a twelve-year-old niece.
They had barely recovered from their hangovers when they learned that their nemesis had eluded the U.S. marshals and was presently at large The twins had sunk into deep despair once again.
But now Lee Simon's news had revived their determination to get revenge. Mama had figured a way to line their pockets while they were at it. They gathered around the kitchen table with a bottle of rye to toast their promised prosperity and to formalize their plans.
"But I heard she's got a kid," Luther noted, his brow puckering. "After we kill her, what'll we do with the baby?"
Mama clouted him on the jaw. "Numb-nuts! You bring it back to old man Burnwood, of course. He'll probably pay double to have his grandbaby.
The twins grinned at each other. When it came to doing business, Mama was whiz, wasn't she?
Chapter 26
"Was that the baby?"
Kendall stirred. "Hmm?"
"I hear Kevin crying."
"He slept longer than I expected, so I can't complain." She got up and slipped on a robe. "Do you mind if I bring him in here?"
"Uh . . . no."
What had caused John's aversion to children? she wondered as she went into Kevin's room. In his nightmare, he had screamed for Pepperdyne to make them stop crying. Did he hear children crying in his dream? And how did children relate to his work? What incident continued to torment him?
That was just one of the million questions she would have asked him had circumstances been different. How ironic, that his amnesia was her fragile and tenuous protection against discovery, while it was also the impenetrable barrier that kept her from learning anything personal about John McGrath. She knew nothing of his background. She didn't know his birthday or his middle name.
He was a stranger to her. Yet so very familiar.
She knew every nuance of his voice, its range and timbre, but she didn't know anything about his beliefs or his morals She knew every nick and scar on his body, but not how he'd acquired them. Her fingertips had explored every inch of his skin, but she had no idea how many other women had caressed it.
He might even be married.
She hastily pushed aside that disturbing thought. She wouldn't allow herself to think about whom he might love, whom he might be betraying by sleeping with her. He couldn't be held responsible for his actions while suffering from amnesia, she reasoned.
The blame would belong solely to her, and she accepted that. She had claimed him as her husband on a whim, thinking it an ingenious way to buy time until she could escape. She hadn't planned on kidnapping and living in close contact with him for weeks. She hadn't planned on the changes in him that had come about by his being with her and Kevin, the softening in his character that had made him less forbidding and more endearing.
She certainly hadn't planned on falling in love with him.
The morning after they first made love, she'd had a moment of panic. He had sneaked up behind her while she was standing at the bathroom sink. When he grabbed her roughly and spun her around, his eyes had been so fiercely aglow that she was certain he had regained his memory.
But the gleam she had mistaken for anger was instead one of passion. He had kissed her hard, laying her anxiety to rest.
John wouldn't shirk his duty as a federal officer. She knew that when his memory returned, he would be outraged. He would do everything within his power to return her to South Carolina. It was a certainty she didn't want to think about.
After diapering Kevin, she returned to bed carrying the baby with her. John propped himself up on one elbow and watched as she cradled the infant beneath her breast. Kevin's tiny fist pummeled her while his mouth blindly sought her nipple. She guided it toward him and he latched on to it eagerly.
"Greedy little cuss," John remarked.
"He has a healthy appetite."
"Why was he born cesarean?"
She smoothed down the peach fuzz on Kevin's head. "He was asserting his independence even before he was born," She replied with a smile. "He refused to get into the correct position in the birth canal. My OB tried turning him, but Kevin would have none of it. It was vanity, I think. He didn't Want to spoil the perfect shape of his head."
Hesitantly, John extended his hand and touched Kevin's temple, where a strong pulse beat beneath the translucent skin. Then he gingerly covered the baby's head with his hand, being careful of the soft spot. "He is a handsome kid."
"Thank you."
"He resembles you."
"Really?"
"Really. And you're beautiful."
Their eyes connected. "Do you think so?"
"Yes."
"Especially my hair, huh?"
His eyes took in the blunt, cropped strands. "You might start a new fashion trend."
"Coiffure by John Deere."
"Who's that?"
"It doesn't matter," she said, laughing softly.
"That's right. It doesn't matter. You're still beautiful."'
She knew he meant it. And in her opinion, he was beautiful, too. Not classically handsome, certainly. But his features were arresting and wholly masculine, from his expressive eyebrows to the square angles of his chin. - Actually it was odd that she found him so appealing, because physically he was a direct opposite of Matt, whom she had thought was the most handsome man she'd ever seen.
Matt had a tall, lean physique. John was just as tall, but his body was more solid. Matt was blond; John's hair was dark with a sprinkling of gray. Matt had refined, patrician features, but they were almost too symmetrical to be interesting. John's face had seen wear and tear, but it had a tremendous amount of character.
And she loved his eyes, which were an intriguing mix of green and brown. Depending on his mood, they changed patterns like the crystals in a kaleidoscope.
He could be downright sour, but that only made his rare smiles and wry jokes more special. He had a mean streak that she attributed to an unhappy childhood. She guessed that he hadn't been shown much tenderness when he was growing up.