Blue Bloods of Bois D’Arc (16 page)

Chapter 37

New family home

The crunching sound of the gravel in Jack’s driveway roused him from his short snooze.

“See you Monday, Jack, so we can get to work on this monster contract estimate. Lots to be done, locating vendors we’ve never used before for openers. Big change from bullets to bathroom fixtures, especially gold ones. I can’t wait to get started.”

“Well, at least wait until Monday. I want to decompress this weekend. Good night, son, tell your mom hello for me. Don’t be afraid to tell her about how good you did this week, she’s proud of you. And so am I.” Jack swung his size-fourteen cowboy boots through the open car door, closed it behind him, waved, and shuffled toward his unusually plain bungalow for someone with his wealth.

Rod had bought several acres next to Jack’s ranch, built a house for his family, and moved them out of the flats. It was a sprawling ranch-style house with enough space for each family member to have an oversized bedroom with an adjoining bathroom. A kitchen fit for a gourmet chef was equipped with the latest appliances. A separate dining room with a table that would seat at least a dozen adjoined the kitchen. But they ate in the breakfast nook most of the time and seldom had company to use the dining room.

Rod turned left on the farm-to-market road coming out of Jack’s driveway that led to his house just a short distance away. When he approached his driveway, he saw an unfamiliar car parked opposite it on the side of the road. Thinking someone might be having car trouble, Rod pulled up behind it. He left his headlights on as a precaution and tapped on the window. The window lowered slowly, letting the air-conditioned air rush out and wash over his face. Then he saw her.

“Cass, what are you doing out here? It could be dangerous on a Friday night.”

“I said I wanted to talk to you and this seemed like as good a time as any,” she replied.

“Well . . . okay, but I don’t think this is the right place.”

“I have an idea. Park your car and get in.”

Rod pulled his car off the road into his driveway and walked back to Cass’s car.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? You’re married now.”

“Shut up, just humor me.”

Rod sat quietly without saying a word while Cass drove. He looked out the window. Without warning, she turned onto a narrow gravel road. “Why are you taking this back road to the club? It’s closed. And I don’t think it would be a good idea for us to be seen together there if it weren’t.”

As they approached the rear of the clubhouse kitchen entrance, she turned down a familiar path meant only for golf carts. With her lights off, Cass carefully guided the car toward the back nine of the golf course. She pulled up close to the big shade tree by the ninth green just as they had years ago as high school sweethearts. Cass lowered the convertible top on her BMW. It was a warm night just as it was back then.

“What are you doing?” Rod asked.

“I said I wanted to talk to you. We can sit here on the hot leather seats or sit on the cool green grass. Your choice, I just want to talk.”

Rod wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, he just sat there for a moment trying to process what was happening. When he failed to say anything or move, Cass reached into the back seat and grabbed a blanket.

“It’s too damn hot in this car, even with the top down. Come on, let’s sit on the blanket.”

Still moving cautiously, Rod helped Cass spread the blanket on the ground with flashbacks of that night years ago racing through his mind. She kicked off her sandals and sat down. She pulled her short skirt up above her thighs.

“Don’t get any ideas. I’m just trying to cool off, okay?”

“Fine,” Rod pulled off his shoes and necktie and sat down facing Cass. He drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them.

“It’s okay if you want to take your shirt off, I won’t mind.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine.” A brief pause, then Rod said, “Okay, we’re here, so what do you want to talk about?”

“I want to know why you broke up with me and ran off to the Air Force without even talking to me about it. That was pretty cruel after the year we had.”

“Like I said that night, I didn’t fit in your crowd or family. Your folks didn’t like me and didn’t like you dating me. I couldn’t play football anymore so your granddad didn’t have any use for me. I had to help support my family and the military was the only way I could do that immediately. I didn’t know how to do anything but play football. What did you expect me to do?”

“I expected you to go to SMU with me like we planned and make a life together.”

“That was your plan. I knew it wasn’t realistic. Your grandfather would have never gone along with it and you know it.”

“I don’t know anything of the kind,” she snapped. “He would have done anything I wanted him to do. You could have gotten an engineering degree or whatever you needed and come back here to work for Mr. Workman just like you are now. We could have had a good life. But you had to go running off, crash in your stupid airplane, and get captured. For years I didn’t know if you were dead or alive.” Tears welled in Cass’s eyes.

“I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just didn’t have any other options. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I thought you needed to be free to live your life the way your parents expected you to. And the best thing for me to do was take myself out of the equation.” Rod shrugged and couldn’t look Cass in the eyes. He couldn’t stand to see her cry. “You’re married now and have a life in Dallas the way everyone expected you to.”

“Damn it, will you stop saying that? Why does everyone think they know what is best for me? Who put you in charge of my future and who I could love and marry. Don’t I get a say in the kind of life I want? Yes, I’m married and have a life that I can’t stand. It was a big mistake and I did it to get back at you for breaking my heart. He was the big campus stud, had all the girls after him. I got my hooks into him just to prove I could get him to want me and I did. He wanted me for the wrong reasons, just like I wanted him for all the wrong reasons.” Cass paused, sniffed, and wiped her eyes. “I didn’t love him . . . at least not the way I love . . . loved you. He drinks too much and screws around with his waitresses and barmaids in his club making my life miserable and makes me feel like a whore.” Cass sighed. “I’m not that sweet little high school girl you fell in love with who thought she could have everything she wanted.”

“Why are you telling me this? What do you expect from me?”

“I . . . I just feel so trapped and want you back if you will have me. This may be our only chance and I don’t want to lose you again. The fire will ruin Roger financially and I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, especially now.” Cass paused. “I think I might be pregnant.”

Rod took a deep breath, not knowing whether to congratulate her or feel sorry for her. Finally, he gathered up the courage to ask, “If you
are
pregnant, do you want the baby?”

“I don’t know. I’m so mixed up right now I don’t know what I want. I don’t feel like I have control of my life and I’m afraid of Roger. He has a terrible temper when he drinks, which is all the time lately. Roger isn’t a fit person to raise a child with. He’s nothing like you.” Another long pause. Cass dropped her eyes from Rod’s intense stare. “And I think he burned down one of the clubs to collect the insurance to save his company. If that’s true, and the arson detective has said he believes as much, he’ll go to prison and that’s automatic grounds for divorce, making me a free woman.”

“That’s a major leap and while we’re having true confessions, there’s a lot you don’t know about me since we were together. I don’t know what kind of father I will ever be. I’m not the person that left here over five years ago. Those two years in captivity with the Russians stripped my soul bare to the point I didn’t want to live. . . I prayed to die every night and thought that was what was going to happen when the rescue team pulled me out of bed that night. I’m still trying to rebuild my life and don’t know when I’ll be ready for that kind of commitment. I’m married to my job and that’s the only thing that’s keeping me sane right now.”

“What can I do, Rod? You’re the only good thing that ever happened to me.” Cass collapsed into his arms sobbing uncontrollably.

Rod couldn’t stop himself from taking Cass into his arms to comfort her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he laid her down on the blanket. He just held her and let her cry it out for several minutes. They were like two lost souls who found themselves wandering in the dark, shedding broken lives and clinging to each other hoping for a new and brighter day.

Cass pulled his face down to her mouth and held him tightly while her tongue caressed the inside of his mouth.

Rod caved in. He couldn’t resist her passion, having flashbacks to the night they were in that same spot. He felt his belt and zipper being undone. He was fully erect and in the blink of an eye he was between her legs.

Passion took over. Cass rolled over on top of Rod, never uncoupling their lips or their bodies, and she pounded hard against him. Without missing a stroke, she sat up, ripped off her blouse, and stuffed first one breast and then the other into his eager mouth. She cried, “Don’t stop, don’t ever stop loving me, Rod.” A cataclysmic orgasm seized her body with rapid final thrusts. She collapsed against his limp body in silence.

Rod wrapped his arms around her silently, feeling her heart pounding against his chest. He felt her fingernails in his back. She held on so tightly he couldn’t move, even if he had wanted to, which he didn’t.

Moments passed. Rod spoke softly into her ear as Cass pressed her cheek against his, “Cass, what are we doing? This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

She rolled off him and onto her back, completely naked in the moonlight. “This is what I wanted for us for the rest of our lives. After I divorce Roger, we can have the life we dreamed about. Your Air Force years and imprisonment were just an untimely detour. You’re a successful businessman, probably worth more than Gramps. He can’t have any objections now. I’ll get an abortion. It’s unthinkable to bring a child into the world sired by Roger Helms. The family will never have to know and we can start our own family.”

“Wait a minute. It’s my turn, do I get a say in this?”

“Isn’t it what you want, too? We can finally have the life we planned, don’t you want that?”

“Those were just pipe dreams of two starry eyed young kids in high school experiencing their first love with no responsibilities. We’re two different people now with a lot of baggage. Do you really think we can make it work this time?”

“Your actions spoke louder than words a few minutes ago. Admit it—you still love me. And I have never stopped loving you. I’ve just been going through the motions for these last years since you broke up with me, like a puppet on strings being pulled by everyone else. I’m tired of pretending and being manipulated. We’re made for each other and should be together.”

“I . . . do still love you,” Rod managed to say it out loud for the first time. “I tried to put you out of my mind with other women, but it didn’t work. But this is more complicated than a high school romance, we need to go slowly and do it the right way.”

“If Roger goes to prison, which is pretty certain, I’m going to be free to do whatever I want. It may take some time. I’ll probably be staying here while he deals with the arson charge and trial. You and I can be together whenever we want. And when he
is
found guilty of a felony, that clinches it, automatic freedom.”

“I won’t feel comfortable sneaking around to see you while you’re still married. What if Roger found out? He could be vindictive and block the divorce. And if this town found out, the gossip would be vicious. You know how the blue bloods love a good scandal.”

“Think about it, Rod,” she pleaded. “We’re getting a second chance. Enough talk about that. I could just lie here with you forever. When we get married we’ll never have to wear clothes around the house. It will be like our own Garden of Eden.”

Chapter 38

Confrontation in Dallas

Cass’s midnight liaison with Rod swirled in her head, raising her body temperature as she drove back to Dallas on Monday. She was refreshed and dressed in a sporty black tank top and white slacks. The BMW convertible top was down and the wind in her hair was tugging at her elastic headband. Her plan was to let the arson issue play out and let the law take care of Roger. All she had to do was keep her
r
endezvous
 
with Rod a secret and stay as far away from Roger’s legal problems as possible, an easy task for the manipulative legacy. She was anxious to find out if the fire marshal’s investigation had made its case against him while she was in Bois D’Arc.

A little before noon, she came to an abrupt stop in the driveway behind Roger’s Mercedes, which was sitting at the top of the half-circle driveway in front of the main entrance steps, not in the garage. He never left his precious cars out overnight, especially with the hard top removed. Concern overtook her as she quickened her pace up the steps and noticed the front door was ajar. She entered and quickly checked the downstairs rooms, ending her search in the kitchen. The house was a wreck. Liquor and beer bottles were strewn everywhere.

“Roger,” she called out. No answer. She called again, louder this time. “Roger, are you here?” Still no response. She climbed the stairs two at a time and bolted into their bedroom suite. No Roger. The bed linens were rumpled and filthy. “Roger, where the hell are you? Answer me!”

A groan came from the bathroom. Cass ran toward the sound and almost slipped on the vomit-covered floor. “Oh my God!” She carefully stepped over to the commode where Roger was lying with his arms still wrapped around the base of the toilet bowl.

“Roger, are you all right? Roger, wake up, talk to me.” She began slapping his cheeks to revive him.

“Jesus, why do you always have to slap me like that?” He rose up enough to hang his head over the commode. His abdominal muscles convulsed with a hard, dry heave that felt like his stomach was ripping open. Nothing came out except a small splatter of blood in the water. He grabbed his stomach with his left hand, reached over with his right hand, and pulled her next to him.

“When’s the last time you had anything to eat?

“I don’t know. What day is it?”

“Monday. How long have you been wallowing in this shit? You’re a mess and you look awful.” She helped him to his feet and turned on the shower. “Wash the puke off your clothes before you take them off; I’m not touching them until you do. I’ve already got it all over my shoes and new slacks. Damn, Roger, what happened? You’ve wrecked the whole house. It must have been some party. Couldn’t have been much fun though—I didn’t find any bras or panties lying around.”

Steam boiled out of the shower that Cass had turned on full force.

“It’s scalding.”

“Adjust it to suit yourself. I’m going downstairs to fix something to eat. When you finish your shower, clean your puke up off the floor. Lunch will be ready by then.”

Downstairs, Cass collected all the empty bottles for the trash and sanitized the kitchen counter and breakfast table with Lysol spray. When she opened the refrigerator to see what was left to eat, the smell of spoiled food almost knocked her over. She angrily raked everything into the garbage can and took it outside. The stove vent fan was turned on high so she could breathe in the air without throwing up. She picked up the beeping wall phone dangling off its hook and dialed an Italian restaurant that would deliver.

“I want a medium meat lasagna, two salads, and two mint ice teas as soon as you can get here.” She rattled off their address and hung up. There were stains from spilled drinks on the thick white llama-skin rugs and hardwood floors. Burn marks dotted the walnut end tables, where ashtrays had overflowed. The silk couch upholstery had cigarette burn holes, too. She retreated toward the kitchen when she heard Roger’s heavy footsteps on the stairs. He was dressed in nothing but a bathrobe and flip-flops. They entered the kitchen at the same time from different directions.

“Will you please sit down and explain to me what the hell happened while I was gone?” she said, trying and failing to control her anger.

“Don’t yell, my head is killing me.”

“There’s Buffering in the left cabinet above the stove,” she said.

Roger opened the cabinet in slow motion, shook several pills from the bottle into the palm of his hand, and filled a glass of water. “No party, princess,” he said.

“Stop calling me princess. Your knight-in-shining-armor image fell off his horse a long time ago.”

“All right, all right, enough with the wisecracks.” Still speaking softly, Roger began, “I was arrested and charged with arson and insurance fraud for the club fire. Larry and some of his old SMU law school buddies were here all week trying to build a defense after he posted my $50,000 bail.” He paused with a pained look on his face, his head hung low to avoid her burning stare. “I’m in some deep shit here.” Holding his glass of water, Roger shuffled from the sink to the breakfast table and sat down hard. He popped the pills and turned the glass up to wash them down.

“Sit down, Cass, there’s something else.”

“Oh, I can hardly wait.” She slid into a seat at the table facing Roger and asked, “What else could possibly go wrong?”

“Plenty. The arson detective took a second look at the fire scene and discovered some coke in the safe.” Roger paused, shaking his head. “That idiot was supposed to be an expert!” The sudden outburst startled Cass. “He swore he had torched lots of buildings without a hitch. The plan was to leave the coke in the unlocked safe with some worthless papers and no money. He was to take the coke as payment for the job. It was supposed to look like the fire was set to cover a robbery. Somehow, in his effort to stage the contents of the safe, he must have shuffled some papers on top of a small bag of coke and the investigator found it.” Roger slammed his fist on the table. “He had to pick my job to fuck up!”

Cass sat motionless, shocked and unable to respond. When she found her voice, trembling with anger, she yelled at Roger across the table. “You burned down your own club for the insurance money! And they found coke in your safe. Are you insane? First I find out you’re an arsonist. If that wasn’t bad enough, you’re dealing drugs, too! How could you be so stupid? Gramps offered to help you out, but no, you were too damn stubborn to accept his help.”

Roger leaned across the table almost in her face. “You don’t know what it’s like. How do you think I could afford to buy the two clubs, this house, and expensive cars? Yes, I had to deal drugs. I worked my way up from a campus peddler selling dime bags to students to becoming a major supplier at SMU. After that, it just got out of control. I started using and dealing out of The Hideaway Club. I was spending more than I was making dealing. Dallas police were cracking down on the streets. I owed my contact a lot of money. They’re really bad people,” he said, shaking his head. “I didn’t have a choice. I had to burn the newest club for the insurance or I would have wound up in the Trinity River wearing cement shoes. That’s why I wouldn’t let your Gramps get involved on his terms. He would have found out everything. It would have put him in danger, too. I did what I had to do.”

“Well, you’ve just shit your pants, mister big-shot drug dealer, and you’re just going to have to wear them. You have snorted your marriage and our life up your nose.”

“What does that mean? You can’t leave me. I saved your Gramps from harm. You have to tell the detectives I had nothing to do with the fire or how the drugs got there, that I was with you all night and have been set up. You owe me, Cass, you gotta help me out here. I could get life if convicted on the drug charges. I . . . can’t go to prison, I just can’t. That would be like getting the death penalty!” He collapsed back into his chair, sobbing.

“Right, let me get this straight. Help you so I can be your stay-at-home trophy wife while you’re doing drugs and screwing your waitress whores every night. I don’t owe you a damn thing and you aren’t taking me down with you. I feel sorry for you. Our marriage has been a lie for both of us from the beginning. I was just window dressing for you, and you were good in bed for me. Well, I’m through. I’ll not be a drug dealer’s wife. And I’m not perjuring myself for you if you have to go to prison for the rest of your miserable life.” Cass kicked her chair back, took a step away from the table, stopped, and turned toward Roger. “Takeout delivery is on its way, have a nice lunch,” she said coldly and turned toward the front door.

“You bitch, come back here.” Roger leaped after Cass and tackled her legs before she had taken two steps. He pinned her under his massive body. With their faces almost touching nose to nose, he said desperately, “I can’t let you go. You have to stay and testify for me, do you understand?”

She struggled to break his grip. “Get off me, you bastard, I’m not lying for you or going to prison over your crazy scheme. Let me up right now or—”

“Or what? You’ll run home to Gramps and your high school sweetheart?”

“Or this, you big liar.” Cass brought her knee up to his crotch with all her might, smashing his balls.

Roger howled in agony, grabbed his crotch, and rolled off her just long enough for Cass to wiggle free and make another try for the door. She turned the handle, pulled the heavy door open part way, and thought she was on her way out of there.

The door suddenly slammed shut with a loud crash that cracked it down the center. Cass cried out as she was crushed against the solid wood door by the full weight and force of Roger’s six-feet-four, two-hundred-fifty-pound frame. She crumpled to the floor like a hot air balloon after a flameout. She cried in excruciating pain, first grabbing her shoulder, then drawing her legs up into a fetal position. A warm, damp sensation between her legs immediately got her attention. When she looked down there was a crimson stain spreading in the crotch area of her white slacks.

“Roger, call 9-1-1!”