Hot Enough to Kill (33 page)

Well, that made me feel a whole lot better. Now, not only am I a fool for mooning over Jerry Don Parker, who was now presumably back with his wife, I was becoming my mother. That we shared this commonality in being made fools of did not blanket me with warm fuzzies. In fact, it made me mad--really mad.

I uncrossed my arms with more spite than I intended and banged my elbow on the edge of the table. It was not funny. In fact, nothing was funny at all, especially the tingling spasms emanating from my elbow. And when I lose my sense of humor about things, it's time to get serious and play hard ball. There was one really good thing about getting to this point. When I'm mad, I'm not afraid. That does not equate to sanity, mind you, nor does it guarantee that I'll behave in a prudent and rational manner. It does, however, guarantee that I'll do something besides hide out in a cabin shaking like a rabbit.

"Mother," I said, shoving the chair up against the table. "I'll grab us a couple of drinks, you get your purse, gun, phone and whatever you think we'll need. We're outta here."

Lucille did not move from her chair. "We can't go anywhere, Jolene, your tires are all hacked up. I can't walk in this heat, not that there's any place to walk to."

I couldn't walk in the heat either, nor did I intend to. "We're going in the car, Mother, now get in. I can't drive fast, but I can get us down to Bud's."

I had no idea what good that would do, but I was going there anyway. "Oh, and hand me the key to the wall safe. I'll be taking Dee-Wayne's money with me. Seems like he owes me a new set of tires. Wheels maybe, too. Hell, I may get myself a whole new car out of this before I'm through."

I grabbed the key from Mother, and marched into the new bathroom. It took only seconds to swing open the false fronted cabinet and drag out stacks and stacks of cash, mostly hundreds and fifties. I didn't take the time to count it, but it sure did look like more than the twenty-two thousand Dewayne had been expecting. I was neither amused nor intrigued by the new little clue. I was just plain pissed at the whole situation and had no qualms whatsoever about claiming the cash. That it was probably evidence in a number of crimes was not going to be my problem. Right or wrong, I'd do what I needed to do.

With our essentials in the car, I started the engine. Only when it kicked over did I realize it could have been vandalized too. Then I would have really been mad. I put the car in reverse and rolled back enough to where I could pull straight onto the road. I figured the less sharp turning I did on the tires, the better.

Mother buckled up and clutched her purse in her lap. "So what happens if somebody comes up behind us. With those cut up tires we can't outrun them."

"Shoot 'em," I said, not joking even a little.

I kept my foot on the brake, the normal pull of the engine making us go faster than I dared. I dropped the transmission into second and rolled along, the rubber thumping and grinding beneath the wheels.

Lucille's eyes were big and her mouth was in a pucker again, although this time it was more likely to keep her lips from quivering than from her usual attitude. I think I was making her a little nervous. Going a hundred down the highway is a thrill, but three miles an hour on a dirt road is terrifying. Or maybe it was my remark about shooting people. Either way, she didn't look to be having quite as much fun as yesterday.

"I'm not kidding, Mother. You get the Little Lady out and line up all your clips. If somebody comes after us, it's not because they want to ask us for dates. We're going to have to creep down to Bud's," I said, although creep was kind of a speedy word for what we were doing. "And I want to know the second you see anything coming toward us, even a cow. The store is only a mile or so. We should make it okay."

"Then what, Jolene?"

"Well, I'm going to try to rent Bud's car or pay him to take us to Redwater Falls so we can turn ourselves in, preferably to Detective Rick. I'd sort of forgotten about him, but I think he could be coaxed into listening to our story. It's the only chance we've got that I can see."

My phone rang, and we both jumped. I fumbled for the unit and hit the button. "Hello."

"You're in big trouble, Jolene."

Shit, Leroy. I tried to pretend nothing was wrong. "Leroy, I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"Cut the crap, Jolene. I ain't got time for your bullshit. You and that mother of yours better get yourselves into the courthouse right now."

The gravel crunched under the flat tires making noises like they were all about to grind to pieces, which I guess they were. Worrying about the tires was tops on my list, but I managed to respond to the genius playing sheriff. "I haven't done anything wrong, Leroy, other than be stupid enough to set foot in Bowman County, Texas, which is pretty damn bad, I'll tell you for sure."

Mother snorted and huffed at my disparaging comments. Leroy ignored them and I ignored my mother.

"I got me a killer on the loose," Leroy said as if he were king for the day. "And he's most likely after you and your mother. Ought to just let you get yourselves killed. You sure wouldn't turn a hand to help me."

I started to mention that I had removed brick from his head and hauled him to the hospital, but I saved my breath. "Here's the deal, Leroy, Dewayne Schuman has already tried to kill us today, about a half hour ago to be precise. Mother and I took exception to the notion and sent him on his way. Last I saw of him he was headed toward town with Velma Bennett tailing him."

"Miz Bennett? Are you sure?"

"White Lincoln Town Car. Didn't see the driver."

"Where are you?" Leroy said, excitement twittering in his voice.

"Why, so you can come arrest me?"

"Yeah, and keep you from getting killed."

"Like you care, Leroy. For all I know you'd kill me first. You and that uncle of yours are probably up to your eyeballs in one or another of the scams going on around here anyway. I'm thinking there's not much you wouldn't do."

"You got no right saying something like that, Jolene. You don't know a damn thing about anything that's going on around here. Not a damn thing."

"I know that Dewayne Schuman and the dead mayor had some sort of blackmail deal going, but I don't know why, or who else was involved. Was it you, Leroy? You and Uncle Fletch?"

He kind of growled. "Why don't you come on in, Jolene," he said, his voice getting sickly sweet as if trying to coax a toddler to eat peas. "We'll straighten all this out, and everything will be just fine."

I had some serious doubts about that. And Leroy could pretend to be nice all he wanted to, but I wasn't going to meet him no matter what he said. Besides, we were almost home free, metaphorically speaking.

Up ahead, surrounded by scraggly mesquite trees, was Bud's Beer and Bait Shop, its peeling clapboard siding and crooked sign calling to us with open arms. "Gotta run, now, Leroy. Things to do, people to see." I clicked off before he could respond.

As I fumbled with the phone, it rang again. I answered. "Listen, Leroy, I'm not talking to you anymore. Got it?"

"Um, Jolene, this is Susan. Susan Miller, Amy's friend."

Had somebody printed my cell phone number in the paper or on a wall somewhere, what? I glanced at Mother and covered the phone. "It's Susan. Amy Parker's friend."

Mother's eyebrows went up, but she just shrugged. After all, what was there to say?

"How'd you get my number?" I said, trying not to sound completely hateful.

"Amy. Well, actually from Jerry Don. Amy was going to call, but, well, I figured I should talk to you myself."

She was making about as much sense as everyone else around here. "This really isn't such a good time."

"I need to talk to you about Dewayne."

"Sorry, Susan, but he's not on my list of favorite people at the moment."

Susan sighed heavily. "Mine either. I do appreciate your going over to check on him yesterday. I wanted to know if there was anything I could do to pay you back for trying to help him."

I could hear the tires thumping harder and I knew we were ready to start slinging chunks of rubber in all directions. Bud's was less than three hundred yards away now, but the closer we got the more distinct the big white car parked in front of the store became. "Dammit."

"What?" Susan said.

"Listen, Susan, I'm kind of busy right now. I don't mean to cut you off, but we're having a little car trouble and I need to take care of it pretty quickly."

"That's okay, I understand. I just wanted you to know that Jerry's all right. I hate to see it happen, of course, but Amy was just really confused about things. I guess things all work out for the best. Of course, maybe not for you and me."

Whoa. What? What was going on? I did not like the sound of this not even a little. "Are you saying it's over between you and Amy?" And therefore between me and Jerry as well, my mind screamed.

"Afraid so. I'm doing okay with it, I think. I'll miss her, of course, but these things happen."

I was getting back to that really sick stage. "It was one thing for me to guess at this stuff and quite another to have it thrown directly into my face. What reason would Susan have to lie about any of this? Like she said, she was out on the cold just like I apparently was. I just sat there, creeping along, with the phone to my ear, completely dumbfounded.

"Jolene," Lucille said, shaking my shoulder. "Get off the phone. We've got to do something."

I grabbed a few of my wits about me and made an abrupt sign-off with Susan. "What is it?" I asked Mother, trying to see the problem, other than the obvious.

Lucille pointed to the obvious. "I think there's someone sitting in the driver's seat of that car."

"I know," I said, not wanting to tell her whose car I thought it was, or that it was the same one I'd seen tailing Dewayne away from the cabin. We had little choice but to drive right up to the front of the store and park beside the big white sedan. "We have to go on. If I stop here, we're on foot. We're at least twelve miles from town and I've already ruined the wheels on the thing as it is."

"Pull up right beside her."

"Her?" I said, getting a little nervous at the gleam in my mother's eyes. Apparently she recognized a Lincoln Town Car when she saw one too. Just in case she hadn't, I said, "Her who?"

"Mrs. Mayor."

I groaned. Lucille was back to her assertive self and it wasn't necessarily a good thing. "Now, Mother, there's no use getting all upset."

"I'm not upset, Jolene," she said, sounding exactly as if she were. "I just think it's time Velma and I had us a real nice little talk."

I did not agree--for a number of reasons--one of which was that we didn't really have time for a catfight, and furthermore, I didn't want to be held liable for anything my mother happened to do. But I had to pull up to the store whether I wanted to or not. "Exactly what do you plan to say to the woman, Mother?"

Lucille unbuckled her seat belt. "Any damn thing I please."

I moaned and groaned, loudly, with various pleas in between, but it didn't faze her. She was out of the car before it rolled to a stop. I hopped out and followed her over to the white sedan, which was running. I just hoped Velma Bennett didn't get peeved and either shoot us or run over us.

Mother tapped on the darkened window with her fingernail and it began to lower. As the dark glass slid down, I was more than a little surprised to see a man--a man I recalled having a nice little chat with at the Dairy Queen.

"Gifford Geller," Lucille said, a little shocked. "What on earth are you doing driving around in Velma Bennett's car, and chasing after Dee-Wayne to boot?"

Gifford rubbed his chin with wrinkled weathered fingers and frowned. "Why, Lucille, I don't know what you're talking about. This is my car. Well, to be precise, it's the wife's, but I drive it every now and again. As for Dee-Wayne, well I almost hit the fool boy out on the road by my lake house, but I weren't following him per se. He was in such an all-fired hurry though that I figured I ought to see what was wrong. Never did catch him. Needed to though. Kinda wanted to talk to him about doing some remodeling for me on the lake house."

"He's not cheap," I muttered.

Gifford looked in my direction, just realizing I was there. "He does do good work," he said seriously. "And he's been right fair with me."

I nodded. "Still enjoying being mayor? Getting all those pesky details cleared up?"

He cleared his throat. "Like I said before, everything's going fine. Just fine."

Lucille, who was showing signs of wilting in the heat, rallied enough to point a clawed finger at the now-mayor. "Fine my hind foot. You wanted this job from the minute BigJohn named you pro tem, Gifford Geller, and everybody in town knows it. BigJohn thought you were his friend, but you weren't. You were just using him. I want to know why."

"Now, Lucille," Giff said in a placating tone. "It weren't like that at all. You know as well as anybody that BigJohn got just plumb goofy here about four months back. Nobody wanted him doing nothing as mayor."

"So you just up and shot him," Lucille said, rather daringly.

His leather-like face scrunched up a little, although it was hard to tell with all the wrinkles and lines already there. "You've no call to be saying something like that, Lucille Jackson. I don't know what's come over you in the last year either. Why, I expect Bertram's been turning over in his grave for months now."

Lucille's eyes flashed and her painted-on eyebrows flattened into two straight lines. "You leave my husband out of this, God rest his soul." She leaned back from the car and wagged her finger. "I'll tell you one thing, Gifford Geller, I'm gonna get to the bottom of all this. And when I'm through scraping up the dirty laundry, I figure your shorts will be right on the top of the pile."

"I don't have to listen to this," Giff said, slamming his wife's car into reverse.