Kansas Troubles (23 page)

He grunted. “Those lazy jerks. They’re never going to find out who did it, though I have my suspicions.”

“Did you tell the detectives?”

His laugh was sarcastic. “As if it would do any good. They’re not going to listen to some flaky musician.”

“How do you know if you don’t try?”

“Look, all they wanted to know was if I’d ever slept with her. When I tried to tell them that she wasn’t like that, they just blew me off. They’re determined to make her some kind of whore.” He gave me a fierce look. “Tyler was good people. I’m not saying she wasn’t ambitious. Shoot, we all are. We’re all hoping for that one-in-a-million break. The chance to be that person up there on the stage. We all have dreamed about it ever since we can remember dreaming. Not many of us make it, but enough do that it gives the rest of us hope. Tyler was going to go all the way. She had the talent and the drive. She would have given anything to make it. Now that ain’t worth shit.” He kicked at the loose gravel under his boot.

“Maybe that was the problem,” I couldn’t help saying. “Maybe she was willing to give up too much.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You think you wouldn’t if you’d been in her place? It’s a high you can’t even believe, being up there in front of a crowd, them shouting your name, screaming for more. And seeing your name in lights? It’s like a shot of cocaine that goes straight to your brain. There are a lot of people willing to give up everything to get all that.”

Tyler did, I thought. She gave up her life. “To be truthful, I can’t understand giving up what she did. Giving up the people you love.”

“No, you got it wrong.
They
gave
her
up.”

I didn’t answer, not quite sure how. He was right in a sense—they did give her up. But only after she left them. Who was right, who was wrong? The real trouble was, there was no compromise on either side. The inability to compromise had caused more than one war and broken up more than one marriage throughout the course of history. The irony in regard to my own marital situation was not lost on me. I decided to change the subject and do a little fishing at the same time. “Where are you from?”

“Arkansas. Why?”

“I thought I recognized your accent. A lot of my family is from there.” My mind flashed to the postcards at Hannah’s house. Was T.K. connected with them in some way? “Do you still have family in Arkansas?”

He hitched up his loose jeans. “Some. Around Little Rock mostly.”

“When did you last visit them?”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “Just making conversation.”

He kept his eyes pinned on my face, his expression suspicious. There was a long silence. Finally he spoke. “Look, I know what they’re saying about her. That she played around. That she used people to get what she wanted. That maybe she deserved what she got. I ain’t sayin’ she was perfect. All I know is when my sister, Amilee, was dying of bone cancer up in Kansas City and she was crazy scared, Tyler went in and talked with her for five hours straight. I don’t know what she said to her, but my baby sister changed after that. She told me that Tyler helped her more than anyone else who’d talked to her. All I know is Amilee died two days later as peaceful as you please. People don’t know
that
Tyler.” He swallowed hard and fumbled for another cigarette. He stuck it unlit into his mouth.

“Then you should tell them,” I said quietly. Before I could say more, the back door opened. Rob stepped out.

“Guess I’m not the only one who needs a break from the honky-tonk lights,” he said. Even underneath the unforgiving bluish-white fluorescent security light, Rob was handsome, but there was also a haggard look to him, as if he needed a good solid week of sleep.

T.K. shot Rob a savage look and shoved past him. I caught the door before it slammed shut and wedged the cardboard back in the jamb.

“What’s his problem?” Rob asked.

I shrugged and looked at my watch. “I’m not much for the honky-tonk scene anymore myself,” I said, answering his earlier comment. “Getting too old, I guess. It’s almost past my bedtime.” Far off, a bolt of lightning lit up the clouds, the zigzag edge showing from the bottom as in a child’s simplistic drawing. Thunder sizzled in the distance.

“That’s funny, Gabe was just saying the same thing. Of course, if I had such a sweet little thing like you to come home to, I’d sure as heck consider an early bedtime myself. Every night and twice on Sundays.”

I looked at the ground, embarrassed by his hokey flirting. That sort of joking so soon after his girlfriend’s death struck me as rather cold-blooded, and it really made me wonder about his so-called suicide attempt. Another blaze of electricity brightened the sky, followed by rumbling thunder.

“Becky and I are cleaning out Tyler’s room tomorrow,” I blurted out, changing the subject. “I’m sure she has some stuff of yours. Do you want us to set it aside for you to look through?” I had to admit I was fishing again, though I wasn’t sure what for. I thought I was safe in assuming that Hannah would have no interest in whatever things Rob had given her sister.

“You’re what?” His eyes widened in disbelief.

“We have permission,” I said quickly. “Her . . . husband gave it to us.”

“Why wasn’t I told?” he demanded. He raised a trembling hand to his jaw. Could he fake a reaction like that? I thought about his emotional outburst the night that Tyler’s body was found. His display of grief hadn’t looked fake to me. Then again, I’d read enough about sociopaths to know that their own feelings were abnormally important to them. His emotional devastation could just as well have been caused by the realization that she was no longer around for
his
pleasure. Could he have killed her? I felt my stomach flip-flop as the thought zipped through my mind. If there was the remotest possibility that Rob was a killer, what in the world was I doing standing out here in a deserted parking lot with him?

“I should have been informed,” he repeated.

“Why?” I asked.

“Dewey’s going to hear about this.” He swung around and barreled through the back door.

“Wait . . .” I grabbed for the door, but I was too slow. It slammed shut. The piece of cardboard lay uselessly on the stained concrete step.

“Well, this is just great,” I said out loud. The long back wall of the club loomed in front of me. I’d have to walk along it, around the corner, and down the length of the club to get to the front entrance. I started inching that way, trying not to think about how deserted the parking lot was. Of course, deserted could be a lot less dangerous than occupied, depending on who did the occupying. I thought about the three men I’d just talked to, how Tyler was a different person to each of them. Who was Tyler/Ruth? Had she herself even known? I reached the corner of the building and looked down the long expanse of wall I’d have to follow to the entrance.

A sharp crack of lightning caused me to jump. Then everything went black. My heart moved into my throat. Stop? Keep going? My mind swung back and forth between the two. In the distance, I could hear screaming and the loud rumble of male voices. I stood back against the rough wall of the club and watched the light-show in the sky. Every time the sky lit up, I inched a little farther down the building. Then a flood of bright lights temporarily blinded me. I felt like an animal caught in the cross hairs of a giant rifle.

“Are you okay, honey?” a male voice yelled out. The array of lights on his four-wheel-drive pickup would have put a Broadway stage to shame.

“Yes,” I called back, using his lights to make my way quickly around to the front of the building. “Thanks.” His horn honked a “Wish I was in the land of Dixie” reply. At the front of the club, bouncers with huge police-sized flashlights were trying to maintain calm among the people pouring out of the crowded building. Then, as quickly as they’d gone out, the lights flickered back on. A huge cheer went up from the people still inside.

“What happened?” I asked one of the bouncers.

“Lightning probably hit a generator,” he said. “We’re using backup now.” From behind the corner I’d just come around, Gabe appeared, his face stiff and scared.

“Are you okay?” He pulled me to him.

“Fine,” I mumbled into his chest.

He held me at arm’s length and looked into my eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I said. “Was that exciting or what? You Kansans sure know how to put on a party.” Then I yawned. It really was getting past my bedtime.

“You should have seen the chaos inside,” Gabe said, pulling me back to his side, his arm tight around me. “I couldn’t find you. I saw you go out back. I—Look, this about makes it a night for me. What about you?”

I answered him with another yawn. “I have to go back and get my purse. It was hanging on my chair.”

Inside, people were still laughing and comparing stories about what they were doing during the three- or four-minute blackout. Over where we’d been sitting, Becky and Janet were wiping up a beer that had spilled across the round table.

“Good, you found her,” Becky said to Gabe. She pushed a wad of soggy napkins to the middle of the table and with another wad blotted at a large wet stain on the left leg of her jeans. “When the lights went out, all I heard was Gabe yelling your name, and then someone spilled this beer on me.”

“I was out back getting some fresh air,” I said.

She threw the wet napkins down with the rest and looked with disgust at her leg. “Well, this ends the party for me. It’s after eleven anyway, and we have a busy day tomorrow.”

I grabbed my purse from the back of the chair next to her while Gabe went over to see how the rest of the group had fared in the blackout. “I’m with you. I just came back to get this.” I opened it and quickly checked the contents. Keys, lip gloss, comb, and most important, wallet . . . and something else, though I couldn’t remember what. Then it hit me. John’s note.

I turned to Becky. “Did you give me back that note from John?”

“Yes, you stuck it in your purse.”

“Are you sure?”

She looked at me oddly. “Of course. I watched you do it. Why?”

“It’s gone. Somebody must have taken it when the lights were out.”

“Why would someone do that?”

“Do what?” Gabe asked, walking back up to our table.

“Someone took the note Tyler’s husband wrote giving us permission to pack up her things,” I said.

His lips tightened visibly under his mustache. “I didn’t like the idea of you doing it anyway.”

“We’re still going to do it, Gabe,” his sister said, exasperated. “Except now I’m going to have to drive out to Miller tomorrow morning and get another note. That will make me late to the quilt setup.”

“I could go to Hannah’s,” I volunteered.

Gabe started to open his mouth, but his sister jumped in before he could protest. “No, I’ll go. I’d like to see how she’s doing. You’ve spent enough of your vacation running errands. Do something fun tomorrow.”

We made plans to meet at one o’clock at Becky’s house and then drive to the house in Northeast Wichita where Tyler had rented a room.

Gabe and I didn’t talk on the twenty-minute drive back to Derby. I was thinking about who would steal John’s note. The culprit had to realize it would only delay us looking through her things. I thought about who had the opportunity, and came to the conclusion that everyone at our table did and a good many of them could have something to hide about their connection to Tyler. I considered Lawrence and his possible relationship with her, pondered my funny feelings about Rob, Janet’s cryptic words that afternoon, and T.K.’s revelation about the kind and giving side of Tyler. He probably saw more of the side of Tyler who was Ruth, the person Hannah grew up with and loved. Tyler had been much more complex than any of us could imagine. I wondered if the police knew any of this about her and if it would do them any good. Then, though I fought it, I turned my mind to Dewey’s words about men and women and how he’d hit the nail on the head when he said Gabe had me running in circles. I felt myself becoming increasingly irritated as I thought about it. Feeling like an idiot, I swore to myself I’d never ask my husband again what he was feeling. Ever.

“What were you doing out in the parking lot?” Gabe asked suddenly as we pulled into his mother’s driveway.

I shrugged. “Talking.”

“To who?”

“A guy in the band. And to Rob. He came on to me.” I don’t know why I threw that out. Maybe to keep Gabe from asking what T.K. and I talked about. Maybe just because I was tired. Maybe, as Dove would probably say, I wanted to rub the cat’s fur the wrong way just to see the sparks.

“Who, the guy in the band?” Gabe said.

“No, Rob.”

“Are you sure?”

“Geeze, Gabe, I’m certainly not as experienced as you, but I think I know when a guy is flirting with me.”

“What are you mad about?” he said evenly. I recognized the tone, his I’m-acting-like-a-grown-up-even-if-you-aren’t voice.

“I’m not mad,” I snapped. “I’m tired.”

“What did Rob say to you?” he asked patiently.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” I opened the door and climbed out. “I just think it’s pathetic that a guy can act like that so soon after his girlfriend is murdered, but then I guess I’m expecting men to have the same sensitivity as women, and we all know
that’s
asking the impossible.”

He didn’t answer, even though I’d thrown down that tempting gauntlet. We didn’t speak even after we’d both settled under the sheets, the fan blowing air that seemed to be filled with tiny arrows of electricity. The storm had started again, and lightning lit up the room as bright as daylight, over and over until it seemed to me that there couldn’t possibly be any electricity left in the world. Why couldn’t someone harness all that power and do something useful with it? Then finally the rain came, and I listened to the clop-clop of the heavy drops on the wooden roof—the same roof, the same sound that Gabe grew up hearing. I tried to imagine being inside his mind, being a young boy lying in this room, listening to the rain, dreaming his little boy dreams.