Diana Anderson - Entering Southern Country 01 - Famous in a Small Town (3 page)

It hadn’t taken Cal long to approve Justin’s application for deputy. He’d come on excellent recommendation. He’d had three years experience as well as a tour of duty in Afghanistan while enlisted in the Army. Justin was four years younger than Cal, but he was one of the most dependable deputies at the Laurel County Sheriff’s Department.

Cal looked at Justin a moment, shook his head, and said, “I doubt there’ll be a need for it unless you just want to go.”

“Not me. Just thought I’d ask.” He ran fingers through his coal black hair as he stepped on into the doorway and looked at Cal.

“What’s on your mind?” Cal swiveled his chair away from his desk, leaned back, and clasped his fingers together behind his head.

Justin stepped inside and pushed the door closed behind him. He adjusted his holster on his hip, and then crossed the room, and stood in front of the desk. “There were a couple of Mexicans staying over at Deluxe Inn.”

“So. There’s Mexicans everywhere these days.”

Justin shook his head. “Not like these.”

“And what’s so special about these two?”

“They were wearing suits like they were going to a funeral.” He placed his hands on his hips and pressed his lips together.

“Maybe they were.”

“Nah. Don’t think so. Gaylene told me this morning at the diner that she saw them toting a large case into their room last night during her shift at the Inn. Said it was big enough to carry weapons.”

“Gaylene’s working there now?”

“Yeah, she started a few months ago.”

Cal removed his hands from behind his head, glanced down at the paperwork piled on top of his desk, and then looked back up at Justin. “Check it out.”

“Can’t. They checked out before the sun came up this morning.”

“What were they driving?”

“She said a black Jaguar.”

“She get a license plate?”

Justin shook his head. “She gave me a description of the two though. Said one was tall, muscular and … I’m just repeating what she said here … handsome as hell. The other short and, here again her description, delicate.”

“Have you cruised through town?”

“Yeah, nothing.”

Cal shrugged. “Maybe they’re long gone.”

“Maybe, but why’d they show up here?”

“We’re right off the interstate. Lots of folks show up here.”

“Well, I’ve never seen anyone around here, let alone a Mexican, driving a new Jaguar. And she said it was brand spanking new. So I’m thinking with that kind of money, why would anyone stay at the Inn? It’s not high class.”

Cal swiveled his chair back around to face his desk. He considered all he had told him, but there wasn’t anything that could be done about it. “Keep an eye out, and I’ll do the same.”

“Uh, sir?”

Cal looked up at him.

Justin grinned. “Christine and me, well, we’re going to have a baby.”

A smile spread across Cal’s face. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long while. Congratulations to both of you.”

Justin beamed. “Thanks. Well, I best get back to work.”

“When’s the due date?”

“She’s four months along. We’re looking at the middle of December.”

“Great! I’m happy for y’all.”

He nodded at Cal and then left the room. Cal picked the newspaper back up and flipped through the pages as he looked for the sports section.

5

Callie walked with a slight pigeon toe over to the refrigerator, opened the door, and took out a bottle of water. She stepped over to the counter, leaned back against it, and twisted off the cap. She took a long swallow and smiled at Salvador through the plate glass window across the room. He was bare from the waist up. She watched his muscles across his back move as he trimmed the hedges. His long black hair was secured with an elastic band at the nape of his neck. A trickle of sweat trailed down his spine. He was her Latin sex god.

She turned, set her bottle down, and glanced at the notepad beside the telephone. Her mouth gaped as she read it.

“Maggie?” she called out. She glanced around the spacious kitchen and noticed the housekeeper had already begun to prepare lunch. Lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers were on the center island. She turned on her heel.

“Maggie?” She walked past the breakfast nook and headed into the den. She didn’t see her. “I swear!”

She gave up the search and hurried up the stairs to her bedroom. She flung open her closet doors and hurried inside. Several dresses on hangers slid across the bar until she found one suitable.

Thirty-five minutes later, she exited her Mercedes. She was still a tad shook up from the drive across town, because she’d almost rear-ended another car at a stoplight while she applied her makeup. She hurried across the grassy lawn and caught herself before she could twist her ankle. Her four inch heels sunk into the soft turf. She raised herself up on tiptoe and scurried toward the group of journalist and photographers. She elbowed her way through the crowd.

“Excuse me, please. Pardon me. Coming through,” she said as she tried to catch her breath. She stood on the outskirts and scanned the group of doctor’s and wives, and businessmen, and businesswomen until she spotted Ted. She sashayed over to his side.

His pale blue eyes looked down at her. “Caldonia, what took you so long? We’ve been waiting over thirty minutes for you,” he said in a low voice.

“I’m sorry, darling. I was feeling rather poorly this morning, and thought I was going to have to call you and tell you to go ahead without me. I apologize.”

He scanned her face with concern. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

She reached up and ran her fingers through his white hair and then kissed his lips. “I’m fine now. Just that time of the month.”

Lying came easy for Callie. She had perfected it over the years, and it had proved profitable. Of course, she’d had a few set backs early on with her scheming. She had gotten pregnant at the age of sixteen. Her daddy had toted a shotgun over to the sperm donor’s place and hauled his and her asses down to the courthouse. But then, four months later, she was relieved when she’d miscarried. She had stayed married to the bum for close to twenty years. She’d had to find employment because the lazy bastard refused to work. She had cleaned the houses of a few of the wealthiest families in Laurel County. She had ended up pregnant again two years into their marriage. That had paid off well. She had come into some money, bought some land, and put a new trailer house on it, and had a source of income for twenty-some-odd years. She’d found that using her body was just as effective as lying.

She tilted her head and smiled for the photographers.

6

Angus Rayburn slammed the door closed to his wall safe. The second time he’d looked in there that morning.

Like it’s going to reappear.

 He adjusted the large picture frame over it.

A hell of a lot of good that’s going to do now.

He stomped over to the mini bar, snatched up the crystal decanter, and poured a straight shot of Tennessee’s finest. He downed it, poured another, and walked over to the large window that overlooked the estate. He took another gulp and knew if he didn’t calm down he was apt to have a stroke, but he didn’t know how to calm down at that point. Nobody had ever double-crossed him. Sure, he’d had some trouble in the past, but nothing a few dollars couldn’t cure. How he’d gotten screwed this time was an unusual mistake on his part. He blamed himself for being swayed by that Mexican beauty. Tiny thing but she was hot. His loins tightened at the thought. He’d forgive her treachery if he could get his hands on her and get what she’d stolen from him, and then he’d put a bullet between her eyes.

Bitch!

He caught sight of his reflection in the window and wondered how he’d let himself get so out of shape. His paunch of a belly hung over the waistband of his dress slacks. What used to be thick, dark brown hair had turned to salt and pepper and at the hairline had thinned at the speed of light.

He caught movement on the other side of the window. His brown eyes darkened even more as he watched a crow land on a branch of a large white oak outside his window. It cawed as if to warn him of some impending doom.

“You’re a little late for that,” he said and then took another sip of his drink.

The door opened behind him. “Angus?”

The crow took flight. He turned toward the door. Suzanne stood at the doorway with a pleasant smile on her face.

No brains but always that stupid smile.

Unlike Angus, Suzanne had kept her figure. She was a petite woman and carried herself well.

She stepped inside. “Lunch is ready, dear.”

He downed the last of his drink, walked over to the mini bar, and set down his glass.

“You seem troubled,” she said. “Mavis prepared your favorites. I thought it’s so pleasant outside that we could have lunch on the lanai.”

Lanai? It’s a freakin’ patio
.

But who was he to argue? He’d married into old money but tried to be patient with the frail, ignorant excuse for a woman for fear he’d lose it all. He ran a hand over his thick waist and adjusted his shirt into the waistband of his dress slacks. He tromped past her, out of the study, and down the hallway toward the French doors to the lanai. He went outside and sat down at the table. His wife sat down across from him, took her cloth napkin, shook it out, and then spread it across her lap. She looked at him and her permanent smile widened.

“It’s so good to have lunch with you today. I’m glad you weren’t too busy to join me,” she said.

He glanced at her vacant amber eyes. He swore she wasn’t home and hadn’t been in over twenty-five, maybe thirty years, since they’d lost the baby to crib death. She kept her long black hair dyed in its original color to cover the gray, and she wore it in a French twist. The only time she’d ever let her hair down was before she crawled into bed. He hadn’t bothered to run his hand up one of her floor length nightgowns the past several years. As far as she knew, he was impotent. He could have told her that his dick had fallen off, and she would have responded, “Oh dear, that’s terribly dreadful.” She’d never seemed to be bothered by lack of sex. She spent all of her energy on fundraisers for various organizations pertaining to children. The rest of the time she tended to the confounded flower beds and rose gardens on their property and at the park in Cypress. She wouldn’t let the gardener tend to hers like most women of her status.

He picked up his napkin and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead.
Pleasant outside, my ass! It’s hotter than blazes out here.

He eyed the plate that was on the table in front of him.
Salad again.
Just where on this plate are my favorites?

He was sick of salad. Sick of the diet his doctor had put him on. Watch your cholesterol, watch your fat, watch your sugar, eat more fiber, and exercise every day, and limit your alcohol, and give up cigars. All the while the doctor had dished out unwanted advice, he himself, looked fifty pounds overweight.

Mavis, their cook, brought two glasses of iced mint tea and set them down at their place settings. The plump older woman smiled at Suzanne. “Will there be anything else?”

Angus looked up at her. “Have you seen Lupe?”

She lost her smile and looked at him. “No, sir.”

His jaw clenched. He ran a hand over his hair to the base of his neck and rubbed his fingers into the tight muscles.

“Why, dear,” Suzanne said, “Lupe quit yesterday morning. Don’t worry, I’ve called the cleaning service, and they’re trying to find someone to take her place.”

7

“Virgil?” Wanda called out as she entered the front door of their trailer. She toted the plastic grocery bags to the kitchen counter. A crease formed between her brows. His truck was parked in the driveway. Maybe he was still out in the woods, but he seldom stayed out after ten in the morning when the temperature was so high. The temperature gage on the front porch read ninety-two degrees.

With the back of her hand she wiped the sweat from her brow. She tucked her gray-streaked, light brown hair behind her ears and fluffed her bangs.

“God, I hope he didn’t shoot himself.” She peeked through a crack in the cardboard over the front window. The glass hadn’t been replaced since the blast. There wasn’t a visible clue to his where-abouts, not even a deer hung from the rope that dangled over the number two washtub under the tree out front. She walked from the open kitchen and living area toward the hallway and then followed dirty footprints on the carpet that she had vacuumed that morning.

“Virgil?” She glanced in the bathroom. His dirt crusted boots were on the floor near the commode. Chunks of dried dirt and leaves were tracked into the bathroom that she’d mopped a day ago. She walked on down the hallway and came to an abrupt halt at the doorway of their bedroom. Her mouth gaped.

He was stretched out on their bed and wore nothing but an ear-to-ear grin. His hands rested under his head and his legs were crossed at the ankles. He had an erection.

“What … ?” Wanda was speechless as her dark blue eyes scanned the bedspread. She stepped over to the foot of the bed. “Where … ?” She reached down to touch the slips of paper scattered about on the faded blue bedspread. When her fingertips touched one, she jerked her hand back. She snatched one up and eyed it. “Oh, my goodness! Where did you get all of this?” She jerked her eyes toward him. “Virgil, please tell me you didn’t rob a bank.”

He laughed. “I ain’t robbed no bank.”

She held up the one hundred dollar bill and asked, “Is this … real?”

“Hell yeah, it’s real.” He sat up, grabbed handfuls of bills scattered on the bed around him, and tossed them into the air. “Baby, we’re rich.”

She reached out, grabbed several more bills, and eyed them. “They’re all one hundred dollar bills.” She looked at him again. “Where did you get this?”

“Buried in the woods back behind the house.”