Home Is Where Your Boots Are (16 page)

“I need you to muck some stalls,” he told me while we were finishing up lunch. “Won’t take long. One of the guys hurt his back yesterday and we didn’t get to finish.” I nodded. On another day, I might protest or at least complain about doing dirty work on the farm. As it was, I needed to work off my consternation. Yesterday’s run insufficient; I was still burning at both ends after last night’s powwow.

Leaving Nonnie and Tally to a mini-marathon of The Closer, I headed across the road to throw on shorts and tank top, grabbing a pair of knee-high camo muck boots as I went out the door. Properly or improperly outfitted, depending on your standards, I made my way to the barn.

By the time my dad came to check on me, I was dripping with sweat, beet-red and hip-deep in shit. And not unhappy about it. If only my former future mother-in-law could see me now.

“Feel better?” Daddy asked, handing me a bottle of water he’d grabbed from the barn fridge and leaning his long frame against a stall door.

“Some.”

“I saw all the cars and lights last night. You and your sister having a party?” I didn’t try to avoid his assessing gaze.

“Kind of.”

“The kind of party where you get in the kind of trouble you need to be bailed out for?” I shrugged, but shook my head.

“Not really. Not this time.”

“Just making sure you weren’t planning the demise of Cash. He’s got enough going on without you all hell-bent on making his life more miserable.” I bristled.

“I think he has a lot more going on that you realize, Daddy,” I said, tipping my hand.

“He usually does.” My dad shrugged himself. I usually laid out my hopes, fears, and dreams on my mama, but well, my dad was here, and I didn’t have a whole lot of filter left.

“I’m just so pissed, Daddy.” My shoulders dropped.

“At Cash?”

“Always.”

“You could give him some grace.”

“What the hell you think I’ve been doing the past ten years?” I poked my lip out, indignant. He crossed one of his own boots over the other.

“Not grace, otherwise you wouldn’t be so worked up and covered in horseshit trying to calm down.”

“You think he’s guilty?” I asked my father, trying to avoid the road he was trying to steer me down.

“Probably. Sure. He usually is of some
thing, w
hich means he needs grace even more. That’s when we need it most.” Apparently my father, polite bulldozer that he was, was dead-set on this direction. I snorted.

“I’m ti
red of looking the other way from
Cash’s sins.”

“That’s not what I meant. You had the come-to-Jesus meeting you thought you needed to have with him. But if you don’t have the right mindset, you’re just kicking a dog when he’s down. And that’s definitely not going to help you feel any better. Vigilante justice goes a long
way
toward righting the wrongs of the world, but it doesn’t help you sleep any better at night. Cash deserves a little mercy, same as you do.”

“Cash doesn’t deserve jack shit.”

“Exactly,” my dad nodded at me like I’d said something profound. I rolled my eyes at him and kicked at some cow chips. “Think about it,” he said, leaving me with my thoughts.

Fae Lynn called the next morning as I was opening up the office. We’d all exchanged glances at church yesterday when Big Jim had passed the collection plate. The six of us hadn’t had time to discuss
anything after, what with the mandatory
Su
nday dinners we’d had to attend,
and Fae Lynn had spent the rest of the day with her family
,
and I’d spent mine shoveling crap.

I had chalked up our discussion to drunken
make-believe
. I planned to avoid Spencer and the courthouse;
yesterday I had begged off Charlie’s offer to carpool to a CLE in Tulsa. I didn’t want to be in the car with Charlie. I didn’t trust myself not to talk about our little alcohol-fueled ideas.

“I have an idea,” she said. I responded with a laugh.

“Oh,” I said, switching the phone to my left ear as I set my tote down.

“What if there’s really something to this Big Jim thing?” she asked, serious.

“Fae Lynn,” I responded condescendi
ngly. “Come on, I mean, really?
”

“Lilly, think about it. It makes as much sense as the rest of all the other conclusions we’ve come to. And we’re taking all those as truth.”

“True, but all circumstantial. And implicating the mayor in a black market body part scandal has a semi-negative connotation.”

“Well then, let’s find out for sure,” she said brusquely. I laughed again.

“And just how do you intend to prove the mayor’s involved?” I asked, tauntingly, and worried about the answer.

“I’ve been doing some inquiring. Copies of the mayor’s office keys are on file at the courthouse. You just have to know which channels to go through. And I’ve already made the morning rounds, if you know what I mean.” Never taunt Fae Lynn.

“So you want me to sneak into the mayor’s office, search through his stuff, again, not knowing what we’re looking for, to see if we can find some incriminating evidence?” I yelled, loudly enough for Nonnie to stick her head in my office.

“Yes,” Fae Lynn commanded. “Wear your black. I’ll pick you up at midnight.” She slammed the phone down in my ear. Nonnie looked at me.

“The mayor?” she asked.

“Apparently,” I said derisively.

“I can see it,” she said. I looked at her.

“Have you all gone nuts? We can’t… I mean, it isn’t, well. Crap,” I stuttered.

“Do you have a better idea?” she asked, waving her coffee mug. I looked at her, not sure how to respond. Beyond her, someone caught my eye in the doorway.

“Spencer,” I jumped in my seat. He offered a sharp wave at Nonnie and moved into my office and sat down in one of my chairs.  I wondered how much he’d just heard, if any.

He was looking particularly yummy this morning in a crisp blue oxford shirt and starched khakis. His rumpled, coffee-colored hair and tired eyes didn’t match his fresh looking clothes.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he attempted casually, the spring that I’d seen corking loose in the hospital parking lot the other night screwed tightly back in place.

“Nonnie, will you hold my calls?” I asked, “And shut my door.” She wriggled her eyebrows up and down and closed the door behind her as I tried to decide whether or not I should play my hand or maintain my poker face.

“What is it, Mr. Locke?” I asked in my best ice-queen voice. “My calendar’s pretty full today. And I didn’t notice you on it, so what is it yo
u need first thing this morning?
” I asked, trying to conceal my sarcasm. He looked at me suspiciously. So I wasn’t an actress. Whatever.

He picked up a Murano paperweight from my desk and moved it back and forth between his long-fingered hands.

“I came to apologize.” I almost knocked a stack of papers off my desk.

“What?” He sat the glass globe down.

“I wanted to apologize. For the other night. I shouldn’t have kissed you without asking. That was rude. I would’ve come sooner, but I had to head to Tulsa the next morning.” I just stared at him. Men never apologized to me. They came up with expansive reasons to justify their behavior. An apology was like conceding defeat. Did crime lords apologize? I set my pen down and tried to pay attention.

“Okay.” He stood and dusted the invisible lint from his pants.

“Okay. I’ll be seeing you. Keep out of trouble?” He asked, somewhat serious.

“I will if you will.” I said in all honesty and sincerity. He nodded and left, his expression more than grim.

I was alternating between tapping my foot and swinging it back and forth when I saw the headlights of Fae Lynn’s SUV swing into the drive. I had on my black, as instructed, but I’d need a little gumption, so I’d gone with outlandish flame red and New Mexican turquoise boots. We had opted to leave Tally out of our latest caper. She had a date with Tate planned and I didn’t feel like involving anyone more than necessary.

I jumped up skittishly and grabbed my bag. As I walked toward the door, I reminded myself how utterly silly this little endeavor was. I mean, vandalizing a car was one thing, and sneaking into Cash’s office with his own key and blowing off his safe lock with a pistol was another, but this crazy idea upped the stakes a bit more.

Fae Lynn was counting on the fact that I’d always been able to talk us out of anything we’d gotten into,
but this was a serious offense
beyond my abilities, and we were definitely old enough to know better. She was studying me as I opened the door and climbed in.

“Go ahead and wipe that ‘I’ve been thinking’ look off your face,” she ordered me as she put the car in gear.

“I think this is a very, very bad idea,” I offered weakly, latently cautious.

“What could go wrong?” she said, “We go in. With the key, mind you. Check it out, and get
out. If we don’t find anything,
great. If we do, we know we’re moving in the right direction.”

“We don’t even know what we’re looking for!” I burst out.

“Well that didn’t slow us down when it came to the morgue or Cash’s office. It’s like porn, remember?” I remained silent. “Girl, are your feet chilly because you’re afraid we’re looking in the wrong place or because you’re afraid of what we might find on Cash?” she asked bluntly. I turned to look at her.

“No. I’ve reconciled myself to the idea of Cash being in some sort of deep shit. I just feel like I’m in over my head,” I corrected her.

“Start treading.”

Cash was hiding something
,
and I didn’t like it. I’d always
held out hope
, regardless of his past transgressions and the subsequent messes they’d created,
that someday he’d rise to the occasion.
It was looking like he’d always be the one flicking the lighter after the fire burned out.

Fae Lynn and I stayed silent
on the ride
toward the center of town
. She drove slowly by the courthouse and looked at me.

“Sh
ould I park at Big Jim’s office
or down the block?”

“Don’t you think us walking around at midnight might catch the attention of someone?” I asked sarcastically.

“Don’t you think us parking outside the office would be a mite more ob
vious, smartass
?”

“Don’t you think there’s really no good explanation for either? Why don’t you park in your regular parking spot
,
and we’ll say you left your cell phone in the dispatch office.”

She rolled her eyes at my ton
e
but conceded the truth in my statement
;
she
pulled into the parking lot across the street from the double doors that led into the city offices. We both looked toward our destination and sighed. It’s always easier to ask for forgiveness instead of permission.

“It’s for a good cause,” she told me.

“Which
always
makes it a good idea.” We continued to sit.

“Now or never, girlfriend,” she said with her hand on the door. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, following her across the parking lot. Fae Lynn wasn’t anything close to stealthy; he
r movements were kind of jerky, a
lmost like Tom Hanks’ character in that animated kid’s movie, what was his name? Woody. I stifled a
laugh
at the thought of me as Tim Allen’s spaceman opposite the wooden cowboy. She turned and noticed my expression.

“Having fun yet?” I shoved her forward. Actually, this was strangely fun. Not nearly as safe as vandalizing cars, but entertaining. Except there was no cute guy to come to our rescue. We’d told no one about our little foray. So basically, when you dumped in a heaping cup of probably not a good idea, added a dash of illegal, and mixed with equal measu
res of dangerous guns and surgical scalpels,
it all created a recipe for fiasco.

“Shut up,” Fae Lynn stage whispered to me as we approached the door and she pulled out the key.

“I didn’t say anything,” I defended.

“I can hear you thinking. Just stop.” I remained silent. Could I help it if I was the more levelheaded of the two? Which didn’t say much. We clicked on the penlights we’d kept from Tally and treaded lightly toward Jim Handler’s office door.

Fae Lynn used another key to let us in
,
and we looked around in dismay at the clutter and chaos. She sighed.

“I guess not everyone can be as anal about neatness as Cash.” I walked over to the credenza behind his desk and set to work. Fae Lynn started with one of the industrial sized file cabinets in the corner. There was silence as we searched, until Fae Lynn finally broke it out of bored frustration.

“So, you talked to Spencer?” she asked. I glanced over at her.

“He came by today,” I said, “to apologize.”

“For what?” she snorted.

“For kissing me without asking,” I explained.

“Ohhh…” she drawled out in confusion, “I didn’t know men apologized for that,” she wondered.

“Me neither… Apparently… Oh, crap.”

But we were already in our own pile of deep shit. Because as we’d stood discussing the resident hot guy, someone had unlocked the door we’d locked behind us and turned on the lights. Fae Lynn and I both turned slowly to find a pistol pointed at us and Char’s daddy-in-law, Big Jim, on the other end. Fae Lynn started to move closer to me.

“Stand still, girls,” he barked. She stood still. I fluttered.

“Well
,
Big Jim, what a surprise. Fae Lynn and I were just lookin’ for the bathroom and we stumbled in here,” I tittered, my excuse ringing out empty and pathetic in the chilly office.

“Why don’t you sit yourselves down in the floor while I figure out what to do with y
ou,” he motioned with his gun, w
hich looke
d to be like a big, heavy Glock
according to all my Saturday evening view
ing
s of Law and Order with my Nonnie. We sat
,
and he started to pace. If I got out of this alive, I would always listen to my friends and not dismiss idle gossip. And carry my own gun. As Big Jim started to mutter
,
a thought occurred to me
,
and I reached slowly in my pocket.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. I nodded.

“Just getting comfortable,” I explained.

“How much has he told you?” he bit out. I glanced at Fae Lynn.

“Who?” Big Jim rolled his eyes.

“Stetson,” he bit out the name.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit. I know him. I know about all the cozy meetings at your office. And up on the hill.” On that note, I used what lessons I’d learned from life and Cash. I held my hand and hoped to bluff my way out.

“Cash told me that he’s getting restless and worried now that Tina’s dead,” I started and he cursed.

“I told him not to worry. Tina gone took care of the dangerous ends.”

“Did you kill Tina?” I asked him. Bravely, I thought. He eyed me, surprised, and laughed dryly.

“No, that was just really
convenient
.” His thick lips sat on the word.

“So who
did, then? If you’re in charge,
it must have been your idea.” Southern belle rule
#593, f
lattery will get you a long way. Hopefully not dead.

He preened a little. Told you.

“I had the idea, of course. But like I said, it was just a pleasant convenience. I actually am inclined to think she did it herself to get rid of Cash and got trapped in the process.”

“So what’s going on, then, really? Cash didn’t trust me enough to give the real story,” I lied. He shook his head, sweat beading on his double chin and pocked temples.

“No. We’re not doing this. I need a couple more conveniences out of you two, and then I’m out of here.”

“Well, you’re obviously going to kill us anyway, so you might as well humor us and give us the whole story before you do.”

Did I really just say that? This bluffing business was going to get sticky. Fae Lynn turned to shoot me an incredulous cutting of the eyes. I gave her my own curt, faux sign language. If we were going to survive, we had to keep him talking, and we had to keep faith in the fact that Fae Lynn and I had always been able to talk our way out of everything. Unfortunately, this wasn’t as simple as a cow tipping. I refocused on Big Jim, who was looking at me with debate.

“You know, if it weren’t for that cute little nose of yours, you wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

“She does have a problem,” Fae Lynn agreed. We did the same sign language routine in reverse. “She’s a damn biddy-body, if I ever saw one, and I’m the town gossip.” Big Jim actually laughed in earnest. I think he was enjoying this, which may or may not have boded well for us. “But,” Fae Lynn started again, “As the town gossip, it’s my dying wish that I know what’s going on. You should respect that. If my daddy ever found out you didn’t
,
he’d be fit to be tied.” A hysterical
hiccup
tickled my throat. If only I thought Fae Lynn knew what she was doing.

Big Jim settled his polyester-clad lardass into a Naugahyde chair and propped his manure-splattered boots on a stack of old farm machinery catalogs. He waved the gun in the air.

“I guess, if I had to hazard a guess, i
f anyone actually did kill Tina,
I’d put my money on Danny Muggs.”

“Danny? Why?” I asked, sickly satisfied I probably already knew where this was going. We should have our own crime-solving reality show.

“Because I told him she was staying married to Cash. They were having an affair, you know. Danny stays
hyped up on the white stuff he
snort
s up his
nose. I think he got so upset and jealous, he killed her,” he chuckled, comic-book villain style.

I shuddered. “Tina was getting greedy anyway, running her mouth and threatening Cash. If he hadn’t up and decided he wanted a divorce when he heard you were coming back, we’d all be fine. But he just can’t leave you alone.”

I sagged against Fae Lynn, remembering what Nonnie had said about Cash. I tried to clear my head so I could get the full story before Big Jim got trigger-happy.

“So you and Tina and Cash were selling body parts on the black market.” He nodded.

“It’s genius,” he practically crowed. “Tina working the morgue would remove
whatever organs
we had a buyer for. Cash may be the doctor, but she should have been a surgeon. She’d haul them to Tulsa under the cover of a shopping trip and bring the money back. The hardest part was getting her husband to look the other way. But we figured out a way to take care of that.”

“How? Cash wouldn’t do that? How’d you get him involved?” He certainly didn’t need the money.

“Tina handled that,” he responded. I sensed he was getting to the end
,
and I hoped fervently that the few buttons I’d clumsily pushed while digging in my pocket had actually done some good.

“With what?” I asked, impatient. “How?”

I had once loved the man. I wanted to know what the hell would make him look the other way while dead bodies were walking out of his hospital.

“Cash takes, or did take, his job at the hospital very seriously. He found out what was going on and was going to blow everything. So we had to keep him quiet.”

“Again, how? If he takes his job so seriously, how would you ever get him to participate?” A vile laugh rumbled through Big Jim’s cigar smoke.

“You might also be interested to know Cash has a little gambling problem. Has had it since college. Probably the real reason you always thought he was cheating on you with Tina. She was his connection to his bookie. He was in quite over his head. His cut has almost been enough to keep him from getting killed. Almost. You can do the math.”

My lungs constricted at that. I knew Cash gambled. It was part of his persona. He pulled a Maverick every time we were at a house party, taking everyone to the cleaners. His card skills were sexy. I didn’t ever think he’d ever venture outside poker, or be risky enough to get in over his head. I put aside my thoughts of how I never knew Cash at all and redirected at Big Jim.

“So who tried to kill Cash?”

“Tina, of course. Didn’t you notice she’d gone AWOL right after? I can’t believe she missed. She’s always been a good shot. We needed Cash gone. You being back was giving him a conscience.”