Southern Fried (27 page)

the emails, not letters, aren’t so threatening. In fact, it’s almost like

she’s pleading with them to leave him alone. And me, too.”

Stella grimaced. “So she sent you away and lied to him, to

protect you both. Made Beau keep on the down-low, no money,

no last name connected to the Pellinghams, until she died.

Probably because she knew she wouldn’t be able to control

him once she was gone, so naming him a Pellingham in the will

evened the playing field a bit. Can’t kill Beau if enough people

know about him, know who he is.”

Jake continued. “But your granny did too good a job with

Beau. He wants nothing to do with any of you, which is why he’s

still not coming forward, even though he has the birth certificate

and the rights to half of your granny’s estate.”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t buy that. It was his birthright.

He knew that. Granny had to tell him. In fact, if he found her

that easy, he already knew it.” Then I remembered the funeral,

the way he’d gone crazy, jumping in the grave and shouting. “Not

yet, he yelled at her funeral. Why
not yet
?”

“She was the only family he had?” Zeb guessed.

That hurt, but it was effectively true. Still, it didn’t sound right.

“No, there has to be a piece missing to all this. Some reason he’s

still in hiding. Keeping his distance from me. I mean, he might

really hate me.” I forced back a sob at saying that. “But, he’s

not stupid. He could hate me and still claim his share. Still even

bring the Pellinghams down with that birth certificate. But he’s

not. In fact, like I told Zeb, I get the feeling he’s protesting it all

too much. Protesting me. Still keeping me away, even when he

doesn’t have to anymore.”

Zeb piped in. “Does you granny make any mention of any

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of that?”

Again I shook my head. “Nope. In fact, she’s reporting back

to the Pellinghams, just like all the rest of them are. Telling them

that no one knows about Beau except Beau himself and that

I’m still being kept away. It’s like, so long as me and Beau are

kept apart, then the peace is maintained. No more deaths.” I

swallowed hard. “Accidental or otherwise.”

“Fuck the peace,” I heard. Only, it wasn’t any of the four of

us who said it.

We all turned our heads as one, all of us jumping as we stared

down the barrel of the gun. “Port!” I yelled.

He was wobbly and bleary-eyed. “Have we met?’ He eyed me,

suspiciously. I think. Hard to tell, seeing as his eyes were having

a difficult time focusing.

“Not officially,” I replied. Though I had spied on him having

sex and had been in his bedroom without him knowing it. Don’t

know how more officially unofficial you could get than that.

He squinted, the gun held up higher in his floppy grip. “You’re

Trip Jackson,” he said, forcing an uneven smile. “Ah, so the cat’s

out of the bag then. Too bad the senator’s dogs are dead, or they

could catch it.” He laughed at his apparent wit.

“Fuck,” I whispered. “We killed the senator’s dogs.”

Stella nodded. “Too bad the grandson is still breathing; then

we would’ve been three for three.”

Port squinted again. “Zeb? That you?”

Zeb nodded and waved. “Hi, Port,” he said. “Funny seeing

you here.”

“I’m not laughing,” Port slurred.

“Well,” said Zeb. “Not ha-ha funny then. And we were just

leaving, anyway.”

Port moved deeper inside the room, the gun pointing to each

of us in turn. Wobbling, but pointing. A dangerous combination,

to be sure. “No, you’re not. In fact, I already called my dad; he’s

176 Rob Rosen

on his way here. And who could blame us for shooting four

people who were breaking and entering. And your fingerprints

are all over that desk.” Damn if he wasn’t lucid, if not slurring

and teetering while being so.

Stella leaned in and whispered in my ear. “It’ll take about a

half an hour for Robert E. to make it here; think of something

to distract Port.”

Thankfully, I still had a secret weapon. Though, once used,

it meant a whole new set of troubles. Still, in less than thirty

minutes, we were all going to die, so I figured I’d have to take

my chances. “Uh, Port,” I began. “Your family, they know you’re

gay?”

He snickered and shot me a wicked glower. “Oh, they know

all right. Why do you think they got me living here?”

I nodded. “You mean instead of your apartment?”

He shot Zeb the same evil sneer. “So what? Nobody would

care about that.”

I shrugged. “Probably right. Not unless they got there and

found that gay porn stash of yours.”

The gun tilted downward, his jaw suddenly going slack.

“Again, s… so what? I can have the apartment emptied out

before you can do anything. Dead men tell no tales, you know.”

The gun got raised again, his bravado quickly returning.

Only, the apartment wasn’t my secret weapon. “No,” I said.

“But iPhones sure as hell can.” I lifted mine up and played him

that little clip of his, the one I’d taped behind the fence of him

and Roy. “Getting fucked by an ex-con and implicating a senator

in nefarious deeds, Port? Not good during a reelection year. Or

for your daddy, who’s about to run for office, I hear.” I punched

out an email while he watched, real terror suddenly washing over

his face, even though the email was my own. “I just emailed the

video to a friend of mine, Port. If anything happens to us, it

makes it to the press.”

Stella let out a raspy laugh. “Then no more apartment for you,

no more political aspirations for them, no more good name for

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177

any of you.”

“And no more easy money,” added Zeb, which was the final

turn of the knife in Port’s back.

“You let us go,” I said, “and that video doesn’t get released.

Promise.”

The gun dropped down, as did the smile on his face. “But

Dad’s on the way already.”

Jake piped in next. “Tell him we drugged you and escaped.

Trust me, he’ll take one look at those mega-diluted pupils of

yours and believe you in a heartbeat.”

Port weighed his options, of which he now had very few, and

waved us out. “Go. But if that video surfaces, trust me, you’ll

wish I’d already killed you.”

Needless to say, he didn’t have to say it twice. Meaning, we

were running past him and down the stairs in no time flat, out

the door and in our car and zooming east. Looking out of our

rearview mirror, we saw Robert E. pulling into his driveway.

“Talk about the nick of time,” I said, exhaling for the first time

in almost a minute.

Stella tapped me on the shoulder. “But now what?” she asked.

“They’ll be after all four of us. None of our houses are safe. And

we don’t really have anything to go to the police with. It’ll be our

word against theirs. And theirs carries a lot more weight, need I

remind you.”

I frowned. “Way to rain on my gay pride parade, Stella,” I

said, glumly. But she was right. Even if I did release the video

and came forward with what we had, it wouldn’t be enough. And

the senator being who he was, the video would probably just

disappear, anyway. They’d claim it was shot illegally. Or photo-

shopped. Or whatever they could think of to make it go away.

And the election was just around the corner. “We need harder

evidence than what we’ve uncovered,” I admitted. “Something

concrete.”

“But what?” Zeb asked, still speeding down the dusty road.

178 Rob Rosen

“There’s still one person who can help,” I said. “One person

that can tie all this together for us, fill in all the remaining pieces.”

“But your granny’s dead,” Jake needlessly reminded me.

I grimaced. “Not Granny,” I said, though, right about then, I

missed her all the more. “Jeeves.”

They all groaned, loudly.

Me, of course, the loudest.

But he was our only hope. He was there from the beginning

of all this. He had to know everything we’d already found out.

Plus a whole lot more. Only problem was, if he really did help kill

my parents, it wasn’t like he’d want to help us now. And we still

didn’t know what Robert E. was holding over his head.

So there was more background work to be done. More

snooping around. And an even more dire need to find Beau,

because all of us were loose ends now. All of us in mortal danger.

All of us a threat to the Pellinghams.

And, of course, to their pending elections.

We drove a few miles out of town to a rundown diner. Very

backwoods. Few cars in the parking lot meant fewer people to

spot us and recognize us. I called Pearl before we walked inside.

I just needed to make sure she was safe and sound. Well, safe,

anyway.

“You okay, sugar?” she asked, right off the bat, an edge to

her voice.

“Fine and dandy,” I replied, trying to keep my voice even. See,

I could never lie to her. And get away with it. “Why, do you have

reason to believe otherwise?”

She paused. “Probably nothing,” she replied. “Just, you’ve

been getting calls these last couple of days. People looking for

you. Friends of yours.”

“Which friends?” I asked, swallowing hard.

“Don’t know. Just folks saying they’s your friends and asking

where you are. So I told ‘em.”

“You told them I was in New York, right?” Not that it

mattered anymore, seeing as the Pellinghams knew exactly where

I was now. And it certainly wasn’t in New York.

“Right,” she said. “New York.” The edge was still there. She

didn’t believe me.

“Only…”

“Only you ain’t in New York, is you, boy?” She sighed. I

couldn’t see her, but I could tell that she was standing with her

hand on her hip, tapping her foot as she waited for an answer.

“Is you?”

I sighed in return. “No, ma’am.”

180 Rob Rosen

“And you’s in trouble?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I suddenly felt all of five years old again.

“And you need my help?”

“You read me like a book, Pearl.”

“Short book,” she chided. “What you need, Trip? And no

sugar-coating it. With your granny gone, I’m next in line; so spill.”

And spill I did. All of it. Minus the sex. Of which there was

strangely a lot of, all things considered. Strangely and thankfully.

“Well?” I said, humbly.

“Boy, you not only in trouble, you’s in a mess of it. A big

heapin’ mess of it.”

“And so are Zeb, Jake, and Stella, who are with me. Probably

you, too. And, uh, Roy, Betty, and Jeeves, I’d imagine, if things

don’t turn out okay.”

She sighed, yet again. Only this one was more out of her

losing her patience. “So, basically the entire mansion, Trip. And

all in just under a week. Record timing, boy. Record timing.” The

sigh repeated. She was softening now. I could tell. “So what is it

you need from me?”

“Uh, know any good motels?”

She didn’t bother with the sigh this time. “Boy, now you know

I got me a spare bedroom at my place.”

“But there are four of us,” I reminded her.

She chuckled. “Guess you all is about to get better acquainted

then.”

I looked at Stella and Jake, who were paying way more

attention to each other than to the conversation. “Too late,” I

said. “Besides, it’s not safe for you if we do that.”

The laughter grew. “Ain’t no white politician stepped foot

on my street ever, boy. And they ain’t about to start now. Now,

anything else you need from me? Seeing as you done left with

half the staff, I have a feeling I’m about to get busy. Busier, I

mean. So let’s hear it.”

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I did think of one thing. “Do you know where Jeeves went

to college?”

She paused, obviously thinking about it. “I reckon so,” she

finally replied. “Emory University, I believe. Over in Decatur,

Georgia. About five hours from here. Anything else?”

I grinned. “Nope. Just, thanks. And I, uh, I love you.”

Her laugh returned. “Damn right you do, boy. And don’t you

forget it. Oh, and remember what your granny always said: don’t

go looking for trouble; shit will find you all on its own. And

speaking of shit, tell Zeb I’ll look after the horses. For now.”

And with that, c
lick
, she hung up. I looked over at my friends.

Stella was now punching away on her cellphone “Robert E. went

to Emory for his undergrad,” she said.

“I know,” I told her. “Pearl said that Jeeves did, too. Which

is where they must’ve been roommates. So now what do we do

with that bit of information?”

She shrugged. “Have some lunch and then drive to Decatur, I

guess. The library over there must have back issues of the college

paper. All we need to do is read up on the years they were there

and find a connection from then to now. Some kind of bad link,

I’d imagine. Something those Pellinghams kept out of the city or

state papers, I’m sure.”