Two for Flinching (9 page)

“Some things never change.”

We finished, Sarah covered in barbeque sauce.
Erin said, “I’ve got to go out and…study. Sarah, you want to take a
quick shower with me?”

“Yea!” She jumped from her chair and tore
through the kitchen.

“Baby?” I called after her.

She came back. “What?”

I gave her the look.

“Sir?”

“What do we do with our plate?”

Another roll of the eyes.
Where do they
learn that?
She took her plate to the counter before going
upstairs with Erin. Dad and I set about cleaning up the kitchen. He
did the rinsing while I did the loading.

“You gotta hand wash this pot?”

“I wouldn’t have a pot you can’t put in the
dishwasher.”

“What are you working on?”

“You know Melvin Jenks?” I probably shouldn’t
have said anything, but if you can’t talk to your father, who can
you talk to?

“The bank president?”

Not a shock. Dad knew everybody. “He’s
getting a divorce.”

“Which side are you on?”

“Both.”

He stopped scrubbing the cookie sheet. “How’s
that?”

I told him about being hired by the wife’s
lawyer and then Melvin coming to me for marital advice. He shook
his head. “Anything else?”

I took a deep breath. Thirty-three years old
and I still couldn’t lie to the man. “Amber Noble is missing. I’m
looking for her.”

His head swung around. “Your neighbor?”

“Yeah.” Then quickly added, “I think she ran
out on her husband.”

“Steven?”

“Yeah.”

“He hire you?”

Close enough.
“Yeah.”

“Hope he paid you up front. I got a buddy did
some work for him six months back. He’s having to take him to small
claims court.”

I took the cookie sheet from him and found a
spot for it.

“Did he?”

“Well.”

He handed me the last plate and dried his
hand on a towel. “Spill it, son.”

“I was uh…sorta seeing her.”
So much for
not disappointing him.

“Amber?”

“Yeah.”

“Your neighbor?”

“Yeah.”

“Steven Noble’s wife?”

I nodded.

He crossed his arms and shook his head. That
simple shake. “After everything with Stella?”

“I know.”

He closed his eyes. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I guess…I guess
I wanted to see how it felt to be the other man.”

He opened his eyes and resumed the head
shaking. “So? How did it feel?”

“Terrible.”

He looked at me. I withered under his
gaze.

“I know, dad. I’m sorry. I made a terrible
mistake.”

Not the first time he had heard that
line.

“Son.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m under so much
pressure, like I’ve got the weight of the world on my shoulders.
Raising a daughter alone.”

“You’ve got Erin.”

“It’s not the same.”

“No,” he said, softening. “It’s not.”

“And I’m not bringing in any money. I don’t
know what we’re going to do.”

Guilt crossed his face. “You know, with your
momma and all, I can’t help much, but—“

I held out my hands. “No, no. I’ll think of
something. You’ve done plenty.”

“You could come live with me.”

I smiled. “Thanks. Let’s hope it doesn’t come
to that.”

“Let’s.” He smiled, too. A little. “Maybe you
could do something else.”

“Like what? Soldiering was the only thing I
was good at and it’s not like I can take Sarah with me.”

“You were a good cop.”

“I was a terrible cop.”

“That’s not what Luther says.”

“The work was okay. I couldn’t handle the
politics. It was only a matter of time until I lost it.”

“Isn’t that what you said about Iraq and
Afghanistan? The military politics? The politics with the tribal
leaders? Walking on egg shells, not knowing who you could
trust?”

“Yeah, but I go to shoot some of them.”

He shook his head, lightly this time,
smiling. “You always loved to fight.”

“For all the good it did me.”

“That martial arts fighting is taking
off.”

I gave him a look. “I’m too old to get into
that.”

“Yes, but you could open a gym. Teach.”

“What would I call it? It’s all run together.
Yoshikia, Tae Kwon Do, Kenpo, Brazilian jujitsu. Plus, what they
teach you in the Rangers.”

“When did you take Brazilian jujitsu?”

“When I was in Japan.”

“You took Brazilian jujitsu in Japan?”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds like the definition of mixed martial
arts to me.”

“Maybe, but not in a market like Chickasaw
Falls.”

“Could be in Birmingham.”

“No,” I said. “Sarah has been through enough.
I can’t drag her away from her friends and her family. Besides,
startups take money.”

“My credit is still good. For now. I could
cosign with you.”

“I appreciate the offer, dad. I’ll think of
something.”

“What you need to do is find a woman.”

“I found Amber.”

For a second, I thought he was going to lose
it. Finally, he grinned. “A single woman. You need to go to church.
Lot of good looking women in church.”

“I thought you wanted me to stay away from
married women.”

He punched me on the shoulder.

Erin came into the kitchen, her hair still
damp, smelling of perfume. She went up on her tiptoes and kissed
her grandfather on the cheek. “Gotta run, G-Pop. Love you.”

The other detective in the room said, “You’re
forgetting something.”

“What’s that?”

“Your books. Didn’t you say you had to go
study?”

She blushed and pushed through the door.

Chapter Fourteen

“Hello.”

“Hey. What are you doing?”

“Watching television.”

“You want to go have some fun?”

“Where—“ I stopped. It wasn’t Amber. The
voice was close and maybe subconsciously I had been expecting her
call. “Who is this?”

“Madison Hogan.” A little of the devil in her
voice. “Who did you think it was? My sister?”

Hoping.
For the first time, I realized
I missed her. “Where are you?”

“In the neighborhood.”

“What are you doing in Chickasaw Falls?”

“I got bored and drove down. I thought you
could take me out for a drink and some laughs.”

“I can’t. My daughter is sleeping.”

“Where is your niece?”

Don’t sisters keep
anything
private?
“Out.”

“That works for me. I’m in your driveway.
Open the door.”

I started to object, but she had already hung
up. I dropped the easy chair and shoved my feet into the sneakers.
Blondie gave me a hopeful look as her tail began thumping on the
couch. I opened the front door and there she was, dressed to kill
in a fur lined jacket, makeup artfully applied, tall black boots.
The devil was in her eyes, too.

“Aren’t you going to ask me in?”

“Do I have a choice?”

She slid by me and I closed the door. Blondie
came running and jumping. Madison knelt on one knee, scratching the
dog behind her ears, letting the big lug bath her in kisses. She
stood, in what had once been the dining room, now overrun with a
child’s toys. She began walking through my home, inspecting the
pictures on the walls. There were quite a few holes. Holes that had
once been filled with pictures of Stella. Stella alone, Stella and
Sarah as a baby. Stella and me.

“This your daughter?”

“Yeah.”

“Cute. Who are all these other kids?”

“Nephews and nieces.” I took her by the elbow
and guided her to the kitchen.

Madison stopped, sniffing the air. “Boy, you
don’t let the grass grow.”

“What do you mean?”

“That is definitely not Amber’s perfume.”

“My niece.”

“Sick, Beason. You know that?”

I shook my head. “You want something to
drink?”

“Sure. How about a beer?”

I opened the fridge, took out a Naked Pig and
popped the top for her.

“Aren’t you going to have one?”

I generally reserved beer for cooking out,
sticking with my trusted rum and coke for general drinking. Since I
had abstained earlier for the sake of my father, I reached back in
for a beer of my own. “Come on.” I opened the door the back deck.
Blondie charged out.

“Kind of cold, ain’t it?”

Exactly.
I didn’t want this visit to
drag. “Sarah is a light sleeper.”

Madison sat at the outdoor table—in my
chair—and I had to take the one across from her. “You care if I
smoke?”

“Knock yourself out.”

Flame flared in the darkness. “I only smoke
when I drink.”

“So you’re down to a pack a day?”

She laughed, choking a little on the
Marlboro. “Amber told me about the pool.” The glint in her eyes was
lit by the embers. “You guys ever do it out here on the deck?”

I felt my face warm. “Why are you here,
Madison?”

“I was sitting at home all alone and wanted
to get out of the house.”

“Why are you
here?
”

She sucked on the cigarette, the corners of
her mouth mischievously twitching. “Didn’t Amber tell you? We’ve
always gone for the same type of man. In high school, we used to
trade boyfriends.”

“That must have made for some interesting
conversations.”

“Oh yes,” she informed me, “it was great. It
really cut down on time wasted.”

“Time wasted?”

“On which guy was a dud and which one could
make you squeal.”

I drank some of my beer. A lot of it,
actually. “How did you know where I lived?”

“Duh. You live next door to my sister. I
thought you were a detective.”

It was too cold to be outside and I hadn’t
put on a jacket. The moon and stars were hidden behind the clouds.
Blondie chased after something, then tromped up the deck to lick
Madison’s hand.

“I’ve heard about that couch. What do you
say? I’ll do my best to keep the squealing to a minimum.”

Those damn Hogan women.

“No promises, though.”

Chapter Fifteen

Hannah Strange’s beauty shop was tucked in
the corner of a fairly small shopping center. Or centre as the sign
said. A two chair shop, Hannah was working on an elderly woman, the
other beautician sitting in her chair reading a magazine. The blue
haired lady said, “Beason Camp.”

“Mrs. Washburn.”

“How’s your daddy?”

“Busy as a one legged man in a…butt kicking
contest.”

“How about your momma?”

I shook my head. Hannah walked around the
chair. “Clete die yet?”

“Not as far as I know.”

She circled me, professionally appraising my
head of hair. “He still charging ten dollars a cut?”

“He was two weeks ago.”

Hanna nodded sadly. “Price is about right.
Let me finish with Mrs. Washburn and I’ll see what I can do to fix
it.”

“Actually,” I said, “I need to talk to
Mary.”

Mary reluctantly put down her magazine and
rose from the chair. She was young, in her mid-twenties, her hair
sprayed in what must have passed for stylish angles.

Hanna said, “You finally leave that butcher
of a barbershop and won’t let me cut your hair?”

“Not until you put one of those striped poles
out front,” I said. “I need to talk to her. I don’t need a
haircut.”

Hannah shrugged. “If you say so.”

Mary said, “I don’t have an appointment for
another hour. Is it okay if I talk to your boyfriend?”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Make sure you use
protection.”

Mrs. Washburn giggled.

I winked at them both and Mary and I went
outside. It was another cold, grey, day and I pulled the leather
jacket tighter. Starbucks had reached our small corner of
civilization, though, our town of forty thousand was underserved
with only two locations. We pushed into one and after a little time
explaining what I wanted, I got a black coffee. Mary ordered a
cocoa mocha soy latte or something. I paid and we took a high two
topper.

“You don’t look surprised to see me.”

“Steven told me you might be around.”

“He tell you I was looking for Amber?”

“Yeah.”

I waited. She sipped from her laden
concoction. “You have any idea where I should look?”

“No.”

“When was the last time you talked to
her?”

“Last Wednesday.”

“She ever mention her and Steven having
problems?”

“No.”

“Anything about taking a trip?”

“No.”

I was missing something. “How long have you
been friends?”

“A year? Year and a half?”

“Where did you meet?”

“The restaurant. I was waiting tables while I
was working on my beautician’s degree.”

“Got to be pretty good friends?”

“I guess.”

“How often did you get together?”

“Uh.” She thought about it. “We didn’t have a
regular thing. We’d just, you know, call each other once in a
while. Hang out at the restaurant.”

“You talked to her last Wednesday?”

“Yeah.”

“Where?”

“What?”

“Not what. Where did you talk to her last
Wednesday? The restaurant? On the phone?”

“Oh. On the phone.”

“You call her or she call you?”

“What is this?” For some reason, Mary had
gone defensive. “Twenty questions or something?”

“Or something.” I sipped my coffee. I like it
hot, but this could give a man third degree burns. “She disappeared
and I’m trying to find her. To do that, I have to ask her friends
questions.”

“Oh.” She tried her drink. When she put it
down, she had a little whipped cream mustache. It made her look
even younger, childlike.

“So…”

“So what?”

“So did she call you or did you call
her?”

Her forehead wrinkled in concentration. “I
called her.”