Hot Enough to Kill (26 page)
Leroy rubbed his trembling fat fingers across his primary chin, wriggling the extra chins beneath. "Well, maybe we ought to go take a look-see inside just to be sure."
I smiled and tried to cough up a believable chuckle. "That's okay. I appreciate you trying to include us in this, but we need to get on back to the house. But knowing you're checking things out makes me feel better." I almost choked. I'm not a very good liar or a suck-up. "Give me a call and let me know what you find out, would you? I'm really worried about Jerry." At least that last part was one hundred percent true.
Leroy shifted in the seat and blinked rapidly. "Now, Jolene, don't you go running off. Jerry might be in the house and need our help."
He didn't sound very convinced of his own theory, and I had long ago discounted the possibility of Jerry being anywhere near here. No, Leroy wanted to get us in that house for a completely different reason, and I was positive it was not a good one. "Maybe you should call for backup or something. I'm just no good at this kind of thing. Why don't you give Deputy Bob a call, see if he's available now? I bet he'd be just pleased as punch to go in with you. I'm not a professional, you know."
Leroy's smile vanished, and I finally noticed he no longer had a patch over his eye, although the newly uncovered one was twitching fiercely. "Pull on back up to the house, Jolene," he barked. "Hurry up, now."
He was getting serious and that was not a good thing. I had to do something. "Hey," I said as cheery as I could, considering I felt like a mouse in the crosshairs of a very jumpy cat. "You got your patch off. How's that eye feeling? Still got stitches?"
Leroy rubbed a significantly smaller bandage on his forehead, but didn't comment on his medical condition. "Jerry'd want you to do what I said, Jolene." Sweat trickled down his face. "Come on, now. Just go on up to the house."
This was bad. Really bad.
"I'm not doing anything that goon says," Mother hissed. "Get us out of here. Now."
I kept my eyes on Leroy, and I did not like what I saw. He looked more worried by the second, and itchy, maybe even ready to panic, which meant he was likely to make a move quickly. I didn't know if he was about to leap from the car and grab me, or just point and shoot, nor did I want to find out. I tried to smile a little. "Okay, Leroy, whatever you say. Let me make the block and I'll meet you at the door. I know you're right." I tried to smile sweetly. "If Jerry is in there, he'd be really ticked if I didn't stop and say hi."
Leroy's eyes widened and he smiled widely, wiping the sweat from his twitching eye. "That's right. Mighty ticked." He let out a big whoosh of air and reached down toward the floorboard.
I had already decided I didn't want to know what he was grabbing at, but when I saw his arm come up, along with a reflection of metal, I knew it was time to leave. Quickly.
"Did you see that?" Mother whispered, having apparently seen the same flash. "He's going for his gun. Step on it."
I tried not to panic, just smiled, hit the button for the electric window and pulled forward. I resisted the urge to leave rubber on the road and drove slowly away, watching my mirror to see what Leroy was going to do. Then, I turned at the corner like I'd said I would. I did not, however, make the block. As soon as we were out of Leroy's sight, I punched the gas pedal, headed straight for the highway and hoped like hell I didn't have a governor on the Tahoe.
Leroy made it to the highway only seconds behind us.
Lucille wedged herself around, leaning between the bucket seats, watching out the back window at the patrol car following along at Mach nine behind us. "You've got to go faster, Jolene," she said, a quiver of either panic or excitement in her voice. "He's gonna catch us."
I kept my eyes on the road, sparing only an occasional glance for the speedometer. I had no idea where we were headed, but by golly I wanted to live to get there. Another glance--96 mph. Geez. I'd never gone this fast in my whole life. And it was not that much fun. "I'm not going any faster, Mother. I just can't. This road does curve every now and then and we're not gonna curve with it."
"Well, Jolene, you've got to do something, he's almost on our bumper."
My nerves were wired just about as tight as my grip on the steering wheel. Damned worthless worts. "If he wants to catch us, I just don't think I can keep him from it."
I'd already had about six minutes of pure terror, wondering if I was going to make it around the next curve in the road, and consequently, my fear of Leroy was beginning to wane. Body parts strewn amongst crumpled pieces of Tahoe was my primary fear of the moment. I also didn't think blood would do my gray leather seats any good at all. "I've got to slow this thing down before I kill us."
"No, ma'am," Lucille said, turning back around in the seat. "You just keep driving and don't let off on that gas pedal. You just drive and I'll do the thinking."
I thought we'd already covered that chain of command, but I didn't have time to restate the rules, not that it would have made even the tiniest bit of difference to my mother.
Lucille clucked her tongue. "I don't know what on earth is going on here. I swear that Leroy was gonna pull a gun on us back there and shoot us dead. That boy has completely lost his mind."
"Well, Mother, we're going ninety-six running from the sheriff. I don't think that speaks highly of our own mental health."
"I don't see that we have a choice. We got out of there just in time. Another three seconds and Lord knows what he would have done." Lucille reached down, grabbed her purse from the floorboard and plopped it into her lap. After a few seconds of digging, she pulled out a cell phone and started punching in numbers.
And just exactly when did Lucille leap into the wireless information age? "I didn't know you had a mobile phone. You've been using mine the whole time I've been here, acting like it's something out of 'Star Wars.'"
"Well, Jolene, I don't have a fancy one like yours. Mine's very simple, and it's only for emergencies. I'm using it now because I believe this qualifies as an emergency. Besides, I'm on a fixed income and I don't need some outrageous phone bill to upset my budget. I'm sure you have all kinds of free minutes on your phone."
If I hadn't been driving 90-something down a strange--take that anyway you want--road, I'd have sputtered a little indignation. As it was, the best I could do was grit my teeth, hang on to the wheel and keep my eyes peeled for a stray cow, coyote, possum or sharp curve. Any of them would do us in, except maybe the possum, although I'd probably kill us trying to miss it.
I was still occupying my mind with those cheery details when Mother's party apparently answered.
"Hello? Hello, Merline? This is Lucille. What? No, Merline, this most certainly is not Agnes. I told you this is Lucille…Merline, what on earth is wrong with you? Have you been drinking? What do you mean you haven't seen Lucille? I'm Lucille and I know you haven't seen me because I'm right here in the car with Jolene going about a hundred miles an hour out on the highway trying to get away from that goon Leroy Harper…there's a deputy there? Oh, my Lord." She covered the phone and look at me, eyes wide, "There's a deputy at Merline's place. They're looking for us! What do you think that means?"
Why would they be looking for us when we had clearly been found by the acting county sheriff? "Shit. This makes no sense. Why are they looking for us there?"
Mother frowned then turned back to the phone. "Merline, what does that deputy want? Yes, I know they're looking for Lucille and her daughter! Can't you tell me why? Protect us, my hind foot! Yes, Merline, it certainly does look bad for Lucille," she said huffily. "And no, Merline, I will not call back if I hear from her."
"Hang up, Mother, she can't help us."
Lucille started to click off then snapped the phone back up to her ear. "Merline? You still there? Well, good. Now, if I don't make it, you be sure and water my canna lilies and azaleas. Yes, I remember when we all went down to Dallas for the fair and you ate yourself sick on that funnel cake...."
"Mother, hang up!"
Lucille glared at me. "Well, yes, you really should go lie down for a bit. Oh, Merline, I almost forgot. You and Agnes divide up the pecans. It looks like it's going to be a good year. Oh, and be sure to have all the trees sprayed, those old bag worms killed that elm out by the back fence, you know. I'd sure hate to lose my pecan trees."
"Mother!"
"I better go now, Merline, my daughter is about to have a hissy fit. Sure hope you get to feeling better. I'm just as sorry as I can be about all this--"
"Hang up!"
Lucille pushed the appropriate buttons and set the phone down. "I might not ever get to talk to my best friend again and I don't think it's too much to ask to let me say my good-byes. Besides, I think she was trying to talk in some kind of code."
"I don't plan on either of us dying, Mother," I said, none too friendly. "And Merline Campbell can't scramble an egg much less relay any secret messages."
"Why, Jolene Jackson, that is just plain ugly. Merline thinks you hang the moon, and look how you're talking about her. I'm sure not going to ever tell her you said such a thing."
Merline and my mother were two peas in a very eccentric pod. Neither cooked and both were intensely proud of the fact, so I couldn't see that I was saying anything so off the wall. They also worked real hard to outdo one another in the hair and costume arena. Agnes was the only normal one of the trio, and I always enjoyed her infusion of sanity. In fact, I could use a nice dose of it right now.
"Okay, Mother, now that you've tidied up all your gardening issues, perhaps we could focus on what we're going to do here. Why don't you find a way to call the State Patrol or the FBI or somebody, for godsakes, that can help us. Does nine-one-one work out here?"
I figured she was scowling at me, but I didn't dare look. We were coming into a patch of trees and I needed to watch what I was doing, although I was getting a little more comfortable with flying. A little lift on the fenders and we could be dusting crops.
Lucille picked up her phone and punched in the three little numbers that were supposed to make us all feel safe in an emergency. "Hello? Redwater? This is the police department? Well, good. Yes, I darn well do have an emergency. I'm here going about a hundred miles per hour trying to get away from a lunatic with a gun. Yes, I do know who it is."
"Hang up, Mother."
I guess she figured out how ridiculous it was going to sound about the same time I did. She clicked off and huffed. "That was a dumb idea, Jolene. Who's going to believe us about this? He's the sheriff, for Pete's sake."
"Maybe I could call Detective Rick directly. He's met Leroy. He might listen."
"Well, that's just fine, Jolene, you go ahead and call that nice young man and have a chat. In the meantime, you've already slowed down and Leroy is getting close enough to get a good bead on us."
As I glanced down at my speedometer, I heard a loud pop behind me. My eyes darted up to the rearview mirror. "Shit!"
Leroy was hanging out the window, waving a gun in his left hand, motioning me to pull over to the side of the road.
Like hell, I thought with a flash of bravado. Then that reality thing again. "You don't really think he'll shoot us, do you?"
"Well, Jolene, I saw a gun and I heard a shot, didn't you?"
Yes, but I wanted to pretend I hadn't or that there was some sane reason for it that didn't involve death. I gripped the steering wheel tighter and pressed my foot down a little harder on the accelerator. "Jesus."
"Why, Jolene, are you blaspheming or preparing to return to the flock?"
"Not funny, Mother. Not even a little."
"Oh, I know," she said, apparently unconcerned about the moron with the gun behind us. "Spirituality and religion are two different ducks, so you say. As for myself, I'm not quite as tense as you right now, me being right with my maker and all that. I think everybody ought to go to church."
"And I think everybody's mother ought to mind her own business." I didn't have a whole lot of brain cells to devote to one of my least favorite topics, being otherwise occupied with trying to keep us from getting killed. I loosened my grip on the steering wheel, hand by hand and tried to work out the cramps. Too bad I couldn't ease the pain in the seat next to me as easily. "Okay, Mother, since you have all the answers to the questions of the universe, what exactly do you think we should do now?"
Another pop.
"Well, I never." Mother whipped off her sling, flung it to the side, yanked open her purse and started digging again. "This is just the most ill-mannered, ridiculous thing I've ever heard of. He should have just left us alone when he had the chance."
"Mother, you think you ought to be moving your arm like that?"
"I'm fine, Jolene. Besides, I'm not about to let that Leroy kill us dead, or shoot out the tires and then kill us dead, if we don't die in the car crash first."
I wished she'd knock it off with the morbid options. I was about to tell her to do just that when, from the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of what looked like a wiggling stream of red light from one of those laser pointer pens. Then I saw my mother pulling, not a pen light from her purse, but a compact black pistol. "What is that!" I shrieked.
"It's my Little Lady," Lucille said affectionately as she rolled down her window.
"It's a gun!"
"Why, yes, Jolene, it is. Specifically, a Glock nine millimeter semiautomatic." She snapped the clip into place with the heel of her good hand. "Nice and compact. It's just a dream to shoot. Merline and I go to the range at least twice a month. She's got a Beretta that's kind of nice, too."
"You...you...you've got a laser sight on that thing?"
"Why, of course, I do, Jolene. How else would I be able to hit a burglar in the dark?"
