The B Girls (2 page)

Jane watched
Timmy
turn a fascinating shade of red and hoped he wouldn't have a heart attack before
the closing. It wasn't looking good right that second. The man was nearly
sixty. Not a young sixty, more like an eighty pounds overweight, heavy
drinking, high cholesterol sixty.

Jane figured when all his blood started rushing to
his dick, his heart didn't have an easy time keeping up. And right now,
whatever Missy had whispered in his ear seemed to have given him a pretty good
stiffy.

Time to push for the close of the deal. With any
luck his brain was as blood deprived as his heart.

"You're not going to find another property
like this," Jane said. That, at least was the truth.

"Please, Timmy?"

Timmy continued to hesitate.

Jane tapped her Manolo clad toe and drummed her
perfectly manicured nails silently against her lemon colored silk skirt praying
for patience.

Her cell emitted a discreet chirp calling for her
attention and giving her a reprieve from the Missy and Timmy show. She glanced
at the display. Lucy. "Could you excuse me for a minute? I need to take
this."

The mismatched couple nodded and Jane walked away a
few steps, turning her back to them as she answered.

"Gree lef meee."

"Lucy? Are you okay? You sound drunk."

There were more mumbled words and splashing in the
background.

"Lucy what's going on?"

"Nawt Bellll."

"No, this is Jane. Lucy, what--"

The line went dead. Shit.

Had she said Gary left her?

Shit. Shit. Shit.

That's exactly what those first slurred words had
been.

She scrolled to Mae Taylor's number and hit the
dial button.

"I don't have time to talk," she said
when Mae answered. "Lucy just called and she's in bad shape. Gary left
her. She sounded very drunk and I heard splashing. You need to get over there
and make sure she's not drowning or dying of alcohol poisoning. I'll get there
as soon as I can."

Mae said she was on her way out the door.

Jane hung up and turned around in time to see Missy
rub up against Timmy again. Watched her lean in for a little more whispering of
obscene nothings. Missy was one determined trophy wife.

No doubt Timmy had walked out on the first Mrs.
Spaulding in order to marry Missy. Just the way Gary had walked out on Lucy.

Anger painted hot streaks of red up Jane's
knife-edged cheekbones and the tips of her nails scored temporary half-moons
into her palms.

Without warning, something inside her broke loose
and started bouncing around like a pinball careening off those rubber bumpers.

Jane tried to resist the evil impulse, she really
did. She tried to think about the commission. She tried to think about being
unemployed.

She didn't succeed.

"For God's sake
Timmy
just tell Missy how many blow jobs it's going to cost her to
live near the Governor so she can agree and we can all go home."

Mae Taylor hit the off button on the phone and went
in search of her husband. He wasn't going to be pleased that she was taking off
without leaving dinner but Jane's fear for Lucy was catching.

Chip was in the family room with beer and pretzels
watching the Braves game on the super jumbo TV.

What else would he be doing on a Saturday afternoon
after playing a round of golf in the morning?

Mae took a deep breath, smoothed her already
perfect hair, and entered the lion's den.

"Chip?"

He responded with a "hmmm" without
looking away from the game.

"I have to go over and check on Lucy. She's
upset about something."

"Okay. What's for supper?"

"I don't know. I might not be back in time to
cook."

That got his attention. "Why not? Can't Gary
handle whatever's going on over there?"

"Gary seems to be the problem."

Chip let out a put upon sigh. "Fine. I suppose
if you don't make it back the kids and I can order pizza."

As if that was such a hardship. Pizza was generally
the food of choice for Chip and her two teenagers.

"Good but it'll just be you and Chelsea. Trey
is spending the night at the Longs. Make sure he has his toothbrush and tell
him to use it. Tell Chelsea her cheerleading uniform is in the dryer she needs
to get it out and hang it up before it wrinkles."

"I'll try to remember. When
will
you be home?"

"I don't know. I'll call if it's going to be
late."

Chip grunted in response, his attention recaptured
by some cheering and excitement from the game.

Blessedly dismissed, Mae went back to the kitchen
to grab her purse and keys. Lucy's house was only two blocks away but she was
in a hurry and didn't know what she was going to find when she arrived.

As she opened the door and slid behind the wheel,
the minivan exhaled the lingering smell of fast food, trapped since their last
stop at Wendy's on the way home from cheerleading practice. She made a mental
note to Febreeze the upholstery.

Mae drove past her neighbor's perfect homes, each
one different--God forbid people who drive the same cars, wear the same clothes
and belong to the same clubs should live in houses that looked alike--each one
with an identical mailbox at the curb. Even on Saturday, there weren't a lot of
people out and about. The landscapers handled the yard work, the pools were
hidden behind privacy fences and children started and ended their journeys to
activities in closed garages.

Yep, they were just one big happy family out here
in the suburbs. Southerners weren't any more inclined to gossip over fences
than transplanted Yankees in upscale Metropolitan Atlanta neighborhoods.

Mae pulled into Lucy's driveway two minutes later.

The front door wasn't locked and Mae didn't bother
to knock, from what Jane said it wasn't likely Lucy would answer.

Mae stepped into the foyer.
I Will Survive
by Gloria Gaynor was blaring from somewhere
upstairs. "Lucy?" she called.

No answer.

Mae started up the stairs calling out every few
steps and still not getting a response although the music got louder the closer
she got to the source.

When she reached the second floor landing she
thought she heard Lucy's drunken accompaniment to Gloria's disco tune.

She followed the trail of sound down the hall, to
the master bedroom. An ancient Topsider lay in the doorway some of the
stitching was loose and the sole worn thin over the ball, its mate was two feet
further into the room. Next came a pair of blue jeans worn almost white,
followed by a faded orange cotton tank top, a nude colored bra, and finally, in
the doorway of the master bathroom, a pair of emerald green bikini panties.

"Oh my goodness," Mae whispered even as
she blinked to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.

Nope. That was Lucy alright. Naked. In the bathtub.
With a half gallon of Moose Tracks ice cream balanced on her knees and a
box
of wine on the edge of the tub.

As Mae stood there gaping, Lucy finished singing
the last few bars of
I Will Survive
and hit a button on a remote in her hand causing the song to start over again.

When the first quiet notes of the song echoed
through the room, Lucy tilted her head to position her mouth under the little
plastic spigot on the wine box and flipped the tab allowing pale pink wine to
splash toward her mouth. Some made it in. Some dribbled off her chin, onto her
shoulder and into the bathwater.

The ice cream tipped alarmingly during this
maneuver but didn't fall.

After swallowing a couple mouthfuls of wine, Lucy
flipped the tab closed, straightened up, scooped out a big spoonful of Moose
Tracks and shoved the spoon in her mouth.

"Ah mill sufive."

"Lucy!"

Lucy dropped the spoon back into the ice cream and
turned her bleary-eyed gaze on Mae. "Mae day! Hey. Whatch doin here?"

"Saving you from drowning or alcohol
poisoning."

"I fine. Ne'r better."

"You're drunk."

Lucy nodded. "Yep and gonna get drunker.
Deserve it. Gar left me."

"So I heard." Mae reached down and pulled
the iPod out of the dock in the portable speakers Lucy had put on the bathroom
floor. Silence.

"Hey!" Lucy protested.

"You need to get out of the tub," Mae
said. She grabbed a large bath towel off a bar next to the tub and held it out.

"Spoilsport."

"You can bring the wine. Jane's on her way
over."

"Why?"

"Because you called her and scared her half to
death. She thought you were on death's door."

Lucy swam upright, putting the ice cream on the
edge of the tub with the wine. "I din't call Jane." She pushed to her
feet and steadied herself on the marble tile wall and held out a hand for the
towel.

Mae released the towel, poised to act if it looked
like Lucy was going down. "You might not remember but you did call
her."

Lucy wrapped the towel around her torso and looked
at the side of the tub with a puzzled frown. How the hell was she supposed to
get out?

"Here," Mae said offering her a hand.

Lucy made two passes before connecting. She swayed
and clutched at Mae's arm nearly dragging Mae into the tub with her.
"Whoops." She locked her knees and held on for dear life.

"Maybe you should sit back down until Jane
gets here," Mae said.

Lucy shook her head. "Cold. Need to get
clothes on."

"Fine, use the wall to steady yourself while I
move this stuff off the tub."

Lucy let go of Mae's hand and steadied herself on
the wall again.

Mae moved the ice cream and the wine away from the
tub. "Now just sit down and swing your legs over."

Lucy followed directions and stood up outside the
tub. "Good."

"Hello? Mae? Lucy?" Jane called up from
the foyer.

"Master bedroom," Mae called down to her
as she led Lucy out of the bathroom.

"Don't know why you're making such a
fuss," Lucy said. "I'm old, useless and probably gonna be homeless
soon. I earned the right to get drunk today."

Jane stepped into the bedroom, took one look at Lucy's
bleary eyes, pruney fingers and rat's nest red hair and shook her head.
"Getting drunk isn't the problem. Getting drunk alone at home is."

Lucy crumpled onto the edge of her bed.
"Seemed like a good idea at the time."

"How long were you in the tub?" Mae
asked.

Lucy tried to think. Couldn't come up with an
answer. "Don't know. Maybe since lunchtime?"

"You're lucky you didn't drown," Mae
said.

Jane picked up the shirt Lucy had shed on her trek
to the tub and wrinkled her nose. "What's that smell?"

Lucy sniffed. "Gunpowder."

"What!" Mae said.

"Is there a dead body in the house?" Jane
asked.

"No," Lucy said. "Just some dead
fish."

"Then the story can wait." Jane
disappeared into Lucy's walk-in closet/dressing room and returned with a pair
of sweat pants and a tee shirt. "Put these on. Then we can decide what to
do next."

"Tell us all the gory details," Jane said
as she sipped her Diet Coke, tapping the shank of her sapphire ring on the rim
of her glass.

Lucy sipped at the glass of water Jane insisted
would help fend off a hangover at least until they decided whether more
drinking was in order. "Gary packed a bag while I was cooking jambalaya.
He came into the kitchen and announced he'd been unhappy for some time and now
that Ryan was gone he saw no reason to stay." She cast a pointed glance at
Jane's tapping finger.

Jane put the glass on the table. "The bastard.
I hope you let him have it."

Lucy mustered a smile. "I shot his fish off
the wall."

Mae gasped and goggled at her. "His tournament
bass?"

"And that ugly ass marlin."

"Chip would come unhinged if anything happened
to all those stuffed and lacquered things he has in the basement," Mae
said with a little shiver.

"Gary was more than a little upset. But he
thought better of trying to stop me when I threatened to shoot his dick
off."

Jane laughed, delighted. "Damn you've got
style."

"Unfortunately, I have a feeling he's going to
make me pay when it comes time to negotiate a settlement."