Snakes Among Sweet Flowers (8 page)

Other than his stints in prison, he’d lived with Harold and a changing mix of others until his rushed exodus from Atlanta, but early on, he’d decided to stay far away from Harold’s “love life.” Harold had no preference for men versus women. His only mandatory ingredient was pain, and Cam made sure Harold knew he would be gone if there was ever any more of that crap.

Cam had hopped between jobs, always planning the next scheme. Harold was the ringleader, and slowly but surely became more and more sadistic and controlling, expecting others to follow his lead in all matters, never questioning. He’d been charismatic and Cam had finally come to realize Harold was much like a cult leader in the way he sucked people in and made them believe his bullshit.

For the last four years, it had been him and Harold and two women, Detra and Cally. Detra and Cally, however, never seemed to learn, and there had been some kind of drama going on in the apartment at all times. Most of it because of Harold’s need to stir the shit and his increasingly violent nature.

Cam missed Detra the most. He wondered if it was safe enough for him to call her, just to make sure she was okay. When he’d left, he’d begged her to come with him, but she was sure she and Harold still had some chance.

Cam sighed and wiped his forehead. Thinking about the past wasn’t going to change anything and it was getting hot out. Dragging a recyclables bucket around the yard was becoming harder since the thing was slowly being filled with old beer bottles. Turning in a full circle, he realized how little of the yard he had actually cleaned.
Shit!
He would be eighty before he got this place in any sort of order.

THE LAST
notes of “Abide With Me” still ringing in the cavernous auditorium of Hog Mountain First Baptist Church, the congregation began gathering their things and heading up the aisle toward the large double doors in the back. Two of the ushers propped the doors open and the after-service greeting and mingling began. Pastor Jimmy Brown was already waiting in the foyer for at least an hour of palm-pressing and fellowship, the elders and deacons scattered around as well.

Jackson had found himself having trouble paying attention to the sermon that morning, his thoughts on Ida Evans’s wallet and Camden Sanders. He felt a bit guilty for automatically assuming the ex-con had taken the money, but then again, Mr. Sanders did seem a bit too slick. And if he had taken that wallet, Jackson would have to work hard to hold back his anger. But there was no proof that Sanders had done anything more than help an old couple to their car. But… Camden Sanders was all-fire infuriating, and Jackson had no business having the handsome man on his mind in the middle of a church service, especially with some of the thoughts that had come up. And didn’t that just make him even angrier at the man.

As he weaved through the crowds, waiting to say a few words to the preacher, he felt a hand land on his shoulder and turned to find Grant Moore giving him a smarmy smile full of bleached white teeth.

“Mornin’, Jackson,” Grant said without removing his hand from where it rubbed between Jackson’s shoulder blades.

“Grant,” Jackson greeted with a nod, then turned to the beautiful woman at Grant’s side. “Suzanne, nice to see you.”

Suzanne smiled, then turned to corral two nicely dressed children who were now climbing on hands and knees under the pews.

Once Suzanne was distracted, Grant leaned in closer to Jackson’s ear and spoke softly. “How’s the hunt going?” It never failed that Grant wanted to make some mention of their common sexuality whenever he could find even the smallest chance.

Jackson ground his teeth, then shrugged his shoulder to remove the offending hand. “Grant, I think your wife needs some help,” he said and tried his best to leave the annoying man behind. Jackson had once felt strongly enough for Grant to consider coming out to the entire town, only to be blindsided when Grant announced his engagement to Suzanne. Grant had been shocked that Jackson had a problem with it, since in his opinion, it wasn’t meant to affect their relationship at all.

That had been years ago, and Grant seemed oblivious to the emotional upheaval he’d left in his wake. Since then, Jackson had moved on, focusing on his career instead of a love life. He’d also come to learn that Grant Moore cared for no one other than himself.

Grant wasn’t allowing the escape, grabbing hold of Jackson’s bicep and pulling it against his chest. “I met someone yesterday. Going out to his house Tuesday night,” he whispered.

Jackson scowled. “Why do you feel the need to tell me your business?”

Grant appeared unperturbed by the question. “You know him too. And he lives here in town.”

Okay, that piqued Jackson’s curiosity, and it must have shown because Grant continued without any comment from him.

Grant appeared smug as he dropped his voice even lower to say, “Camden Sanders.”

Jackson could have spit nails. He was beyond sick of hearing that man’s name. “Get away from me, Grant,” Jackson growled. Jerking his arm away, he pushed through the crowd and away from Grant as quickly as possible, an uncontrollable need boiling in his gut to bust Camden Sanders in the nose.

CAMDEN WAS
slumped on the front steps sipping from a large glass of iced tea when a fairly new blue Mustang pulled into his driveway. He was pretty sure whoever was driving it would take that kind of vehicle to the dealer for any repairs, not his shop, so this must be a social visit. Just his luck.

The sight of Jackson Rhodes climbing out from behind the wheel, tailored suit emphasizing his wide shoulders, thick chest and thighs, and slim waist, was enough to make Cam’s throat go dry.
Fuck! The man cleans up nice!

Attempting to hide the fact that he felt like a bitch in heat when he looked at the officer, Cam turned his gaze out to his front yard and spoke loudly to Jackson as he came across the lawn toward him. “Know any kids around here that would like a job helping me clean up this yard?”

When Cam looked back over, Jackson appeared to have been derailed by the question. He’d pulled up short, now staring at Cam but no longer moving toward him. “I—Maybe.” Jackson shook his head and looked down. When his gaze came up to meet Cam’s again, there was steel in those expressive eyes. “You know anything about what happened to Ida Evans’s wallet?”

Cam’s throat constricted.
Well, shit.
And the wallet in question was out in his backyard at that very moment. “Who?” was all that Cam could come up with, but he could tell from the look on Jackson’s face the response had only made him sound guilty instead of innocent.

“So you steal from so many old ladies that you can’t keep them straight anymore?”

“You here to arrest me for something, Officer?” Cam stood after placing his iced tea glass down on the porch, making sure to stay on the first step of his house to give him a height advantage.

Jackson huffed out a breath and rubbed his palm roughly over his face, then put his hands on his hips and turned to look out over the yard for a moment as if composing himself. “Look, Mr. Sanders….”

“You can call me Cam,” Cam cut in, hoping to stir Jackson up even further.

It appeared to work somewhat, since Jackson frowned a moment, then turned back to focus on Cam’s face. “I hear your name on the daily, and it’s already twice today. Ida and Charles are good people who have very little to call their own. That money is pretty much the teetotal of their monthly income, and since her wallet came up missing, they have no way to pay for Charles’s oxygen or their electricity. But I guess that doesn’t matter to a man like you.”

“A man like me?” Now Jackson had returned the favor, saying just the right thing to stir Cam up. “And just what kind of man would that be, Mr. Lawman? Just what does your churchgoing, thou-shalt-not-judge ass know about Camden Sanders other than I paid my dues and served my time? You think you got me figured out? You think you know me?” Cam was off the stairs and in Jackson’s face before he could think better of it, poking some quite impressive chest musculature with each jab of his finger.

Jackson balled his fists and Cam prepared for a fight to begin in earnest. Cam might not be as built as Jackson, but he had a wiry strength that was usually underestimated, not to mention that he was scrappy and saw winning as the goal, not fighting fair. He was sure Jackson was tensing to send the first punch when a horn honked, bringing them both up short.

Their heads turned in unison toward the driveway where another car now sat behind Jackson’s Mustang. A huge car that at first appeared to have no one inside. But then Cam noticed the top curls of an old lady hairdo peeking above the curve of the steering wheel. In the passenger seat, a bald pate glowed with the afternoon sun glinting through the windshield. There was another honk of the horn and then the driver’s side door opened.

Jackson immediately headed toward the vehicle to help Ida Evans out, and Cam stood there watching until the passenger side door opened. At that point, he was compelled to rush to help feeble Charles Evans before he ended up facedown on the dirt drive.

“We aren’t staying but a minute, so don’t let us interrupt,” Mrs. Evans announced, not seeming to realize that she had just broken up what could have easily become a scuffle across the front lawn. “I had no idea you were friends with Jackson Lee, Mr. Sanders. I used to watch Jackson when he was a baby and his momma worked over at the pharmacy. Ain’t that right, Jackson?” She patted Jackson’s arm, and Cam noticed the blush as Jackson nodded, surely grinding his teeth at being mistaken for Cam’s friend.

“Oh yes, ma’am,” Cam assured her as he helped Mr. Evans around the front of the car. “Jackson and I are getting closer by the day, ain’t that right, Sheriff?”

“I’m not a sheriff, Camden.” Jackson said the name as if it tasted bad in his mouth. “I’m with the city police department.”

“And I’m so proud of you, Jackson,” Mrs. Evans declared, still not noticing the tension. “I just wanted to come by—” She turned to Cam and smiled. “—to invite you over to supper tomorrow night.” She took Cam’s hand in hers and patted it. “You are such a good boy and I would love to get to know you better. Charles and I used to be very active in the community, but this getting old stuff gets in the way something fierce, let me tell you.”

Jackson and Cam both chuckled with Ida. Charles tried but ended up coughing instead, which brought everyone a step closer to him in case he needed help.

Cam felt his stomach turn as he thought of the blue rose wallet lying out in the mud behind his house, having been rained on the night before. Why were these people being so nice to him? He’d almost like it better if everyone treated him like Jackson did. It would definitely feel more familiar, and it wouldn’t bring all this crazy guilt with it. And how could they afford to feed him if they had just lost all their money? Cam glanced over at Jackson, who was frowning deeply. The good officer didn’t seem to want him to go to dinner with Ida and Charles. Well, didn’t that just cinch it?

“I’d be honored, ma’am. What time and where do you want me?” Cam smiled at Jackson as he answered.

“BUT, IDA,
that man may be the one that has your wallet. You know that, right?” Jackson had followed Charles and Ida home when they’d left Camden Sanders’s house and now paced around their living room as the pair watched from their perches on the couch. He felt compelled to save them from Camden, who seemed to be seducing everyone in the town. At times, Jackson felt drawn to him as well, and didn’t that just piss him all to hell.

“Jackson, honey, my mind isn’t going… yet,” Ida said with a smile. “And you’ve told me he’s been to prison. But he moved out here all on his own.”

“Moving doesn’t change a man,” Jackson pointed out. He didn’t like the idea of the older couple hosting Camden Sanders in their house alone. He’d begged to be invited too, just to make sure all went well, but Ida had refused.

“Sweetheart, he bought a house here. He’s fixing it up. That means he wants a home, that he plans to stay. Change doesn’t come all at once. Sometimes you want to change long before you become who you want to be. But nobody can change if they aren’t allowed to, if everyone still expects you to be all the things you once was.”

“Ida, I-I’m not a judgmental man. I try to be fair.” Jackson was trying to explain but couldn’t seem to get it across.

“No, Jackson. You are a good man and a fair man. But you have only ever had to deal with the same people in this little town. You already know what every one of us is going to do before we do it. But now you’ve been dealt a wild card. That’s what Camden Sanders is. You can’t predict him like you can everybody else.” She stared at Jackson for a moment, shook her finger. “Now… he’s coming to dinner and you are going to go about your business and stop worrying about Charles and me.”

Charles put his hand on Ida’s and nodded at Jackson in solidarity.

“Ida, I don’t mean to—” Jackson started.

“No more, honey. It’s all going to be fine. You’ll see.” Ida led Jackson toward the door. “It’s time for our afternoon nap, so if you don’t mind….”

“Of course not.” He nodded back to Charles and stepped out onto the porch. “Y’all have a nice nap.”

JACKSON SLAMMED
his car door and then huffed, staring out at the street from where he sat in front of the Evans residence. Was he being unfair to Camden Sanders? Expecting him to be what his record said he was, instead of keeping an open mind? Or was the man so slimy he was now making even Jackson question his gut instincts?

Jackson cranked the car and pulled away from the curb, his mind in a whirl.

It took him no time before he’d pulled into a narrow driveway and waited for the door of the one-car attached garage to slowly trundle open. His house was small, what most people called a starter home, and even that was more than he really needed. But it had been a good buy and his dad had encouraged him to invest in a home instead of throwing his money away renting.