“Do you want an honest opinion?”
“I know I look atrocious. I want to know if you think this will fool Max Wilder.”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “It would definitely fool somebody who gave you a casual glance, but it seems to me that Max takes pains to notice attractive women.”
“Why, Mr. Fleming,” I said in the ridiculous Southern accent as I batted my eyes, “I didn’t realize you found this style so appealing. Maybe I should get Aunt Daphine to fix me up more often.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “And don’t think I don’t know you’re trying to distract me. What are you going to do if Max recognizes you?”
“Maybe he won’t care,” I said. “He’s never hesitated to go after married women before, and since he’s not from around here, he’s not likely to know that I’m not that kind of girl. He’d have no reason to suspect that I have ulterior motives.”
“I don’t know about that. He’s been here long enough that he might have heard rumors about us,” Richard said. “Just in case, you’re not going by yourself. I’m going, too.”
“I thought you were going to watch Linwood.”
“Damn! I forgot. Look, Laura, I don’t want you alone with this guy.”
“We won’t be alone—we’ll be in a bar.”
“That’s not good enough.”
I started to argue further, but he did have a point. “What if I get Augustus to help? He can keep an eye on me, and I’ll work out a signal to let him know if I need help. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough.”
Making arrangements for all of that took the rest of the afternoon. First, I called Augustus to get him in on it. Fortunately, he’d already told Aunt Maggie he wasn’t going to that night’s auction with her, so he was free. He’d heard about Junior’s questioning Linwood, and assumed that this had something to do with helping him. I felt bad about misleading him, but I couldn’t say anything different without making it worse. Next, I called Michelle again to get background information to use on Max. And finally, Richard and I arranged to borrow cars. Richard got Aunt Daphine’s car because our bright red rental car was too noticeable, and I got Aunt Nora’s so I’d have one with North Carolina plates. With all that, Richard and I just barely had enough time to get in position before shift end at the mill. I headed for Dusty’s, and Richard went to Linwood’s.
Chapter 31
I’d been to Dusty’s once or twice before, but it wasn’t my kind of bar. It wasn’t much of a bar at all, really, just a place for mill workers to rinse the cotton dust out of their throats before going home. That’s where it got the name—there wasn’t a Dusty.
It was dark inside, with no windows to let in the afternoon sun. A row of booths ran along one side of the big room, a plain wood bar lined the other, and a few Formica-topped tables were scattered haphazardly in the space between. The only decorations were a collection of neon bar signs, all from American beers, and a few yellowing pictures of the mill. I didn’t have to look at the jukebox to know it was stocked with country music and Elvis songs.
I gingerly walked across the sawdust-strewn floor and perched on a barstool. I had to move gingerly. In addition to fixing my makeup and hair, Aunt Daphine had borrowed appropriate clothing from Gladys the manicurist at her shop, meaning that the jeans I was wearing were a size smaller than what I normally wore, and the heels on my gold sandals were an inch higher. As for the hot pink top, it was so tight that I didn’t think I’d be able to drink more than a couple of beers without it coming apart at the seams.
The place was nearly empty when I arrived, but a glance at the Budweiser clock behind the bar told me it wouldn’t be too long. The bartender must have realized the same thing. After giving me a beer, he started slapping stacks of cardboard coasters all down the bar, then opened up cans of beer and lined them up in preparation for shift change.
Full bowls of peanuts and pretzels were already in place, and I pulled one closer so I could nibble while I waited. Considering the fit of my clothes, it was risky, but not as risky as drinking beer on an empty stomach would have been.
Maybe five minutes after shift end, the first mill workers started coming in the door. Most were men, but there were enough women that I didn’t feel too conspicuous. It looked as if most of them were regulars because they took beers from the bar, grabbed coasters, and headed for tables without speaking. I was glad I’d stayed at the bar—I was afraid that if I’d sat in somebody’s regular seat, he’d have sat down right on top of me.
The room was already half-filled when Augustus came in, his eyes blinking as he adjusted to the change from outside light. The older Augustus got, the more he favored our grandfather. Like Paw, he was a slight man with light blue eyes, a good chin, and a quick smile.
Augustus knew enough of the routine to come to the bar and get his beer and coaster, and then he stopped to look around. I tried to catch his eye, but he didn’t seem to notice me. Not sure if he was that good an actor or not, I smiled at him. That time I knew he saw me, but his only response was a blush.
Finally, he found an empty spot at the bar as far away from me as he could get, and leaned against it while watching the door. I shoved a pretzel into my mouth to keep myself from laughing. He really hadn’t recognized me. The problem was, how was he going to keep an eye on me if he didn’t know who I was?
Fortunately, he was between me and the bathroom. Leaving my beer and the tiny excuse for a pocketbook Aunt Daphine had provided to save my seat, I tottered toward the ladies’ room, keeping close enough to the bar that it didn’t look too obvious when I stepped on poor Augustus’s foot. Luckily he was wearing work boots, which were almost enough to protect him from my sandal’s heel.
“I am so sorry,” I said as he jerked his foot back. “Did I hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” he said in a strained voice. “Don’t you worry about it.”
“Are you sure?” I said. “I can’t imagine how I could be that clumsy.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” he said gallantly. “It’s these big old feet of mine. My mama always tells me I ought not let them hang into the aisle.”
I think he was trying to see if there was any blood leaking from his shoe because he sure wasn’t looking at me. I said, “I bet you don’t always do what your mama says, now do you?”
That got him to look me right in the face, and darned if he didn’t have that same expression deer do when caught by a car’s headlights. Then his eyes widened. “No, ma’am, I guess I don’t. Me and all my cousins are always getting ourselves into trouble.”
The way he emphasized cousins reassured me that he knew who I was. “Well, you be sure and stay out of trouble tonight, you hear?”
“I will if you will.”
We grinned at each other, and I went on toward the bathroom, avoiding any stray feet as I went. I didn’t need to use the facilities, but I took a few minutes to puff my hair up even more so it wouldn’t look odd if anybody was noticing. By the time I got back out into the bar, it was too crowded for anybody to notice much of anything. If I hadn’t left the purse on my barstool, my seat would have been long gone.
I looked for Max, but there was no sign of him yet, and I started to think how silly I was going to feel if he didn’t show that night. Finally, the door opened and in he came. In retrospect, it made sense that he wouldn’t be one of the first to leave work. He wanted to give the impression of being a conscientious worker, not a clock-watcher.
My next worry was that he already had a date, but after he got his beer and coaster, he saw me and smiled warmly. I smiled back in invitation, and he came to lean on the bar next to me.
“Hey,” I said. From what I’d heard, I didn’t think Max required a sophisticated approach.
“Hey there, little lady. Don’t tell me that a pretty thing like you is in here alone.”
“I am so far,” I said airily.
“We’ll have to see what we can do about that.” He drank down his beer in one long gul
p, and signaled to the bartender. “Can I buy you a fresh one?”
“Not yet.” I giggled. “I don’t want to get wasted this early.”
“Oh honey, nobody’s going to waste if I can help it.”
We both laughed at his wit, but I was inwardly longing for something from Shakespeare.
He said, “I suppose I ought to introduce myself. I’m Max Wilder.”
“I bet you’re wilder than most,” I quipped, so we could laugh at my wit. “I’m Lori Yadon.” Lori was close enough to my name that maybe I wouldn’t get confused, and Yadon was the name of a boy I’d known in elementary school. Since he and his folks had moved away from Byerly, I thought it would be a safe name to use.
“Are you from around here, Lori?”
“Nope, just in town a few days visiting my aunt. Where are you from?”
“Oh, I live here. I work at the mill down the road.”
“Really? I’m surprised.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’d have pegged you as somebody on his way elsewhere.”
“Like where?”
I looked around the room. “Like anyplace other than here. No offense.”
“None taken.” He leaned a little closer. “Maybe I should have said that I’m living here for now.”
As Max and I made small talk, I noticed how changed he seemed from when I’d met him at the cookout. Before, his speech had been polite, almost courtly, but he’d changed into a good ole boy, and his jokes were just this side of vulgar. Even his mannerisms were different. Unlike me, Max hadn’t needed a makeover to become somebody different, and I wondered if either persona was the real one.
The bar started emptying out as mill workers headed home for dinner, but leaving enough people around that Augustus didn’t stick out. By then he was watching the news on television, but I saw him looking our way every once in a while.
One thing about Max, he could put away the beers, so I didn’t even try to keep up. I just acted more and more buzzed, complete with giggles and spilling beer on the bar. Eventually he got around to asking what I did for a living, which was what I’d been waiting for.
“I’m between jobs right now,” I said with a hiccup. “My old place got closed down, but there’s a new boiler—” I paused long enough to make sure that he’d noticed my phony slip of the tongue. “I mean, I’ve got a lead on a new company opening up down in Florida.”
Max nodded knowingly. “Would this be something along the line of phone solicitations?”
I opened my eyes wide, and looked around as if nervous that we’d be overheard.
He put his arm around my shoulders. “Don’t worry, honey, I’ve worked a few ‘phone solicitation’ jobs myself.”
I tried to look relieved. According to the class Michelle had taken, con artists like being part of a group of insiders, folks in the know as opposed to their marks. So it made sense for Max the con man to enjoy meeting fellow con artist Lori, and vice versa. At least, that’s what I was hoping.
“Is that right?” I almost purred. “Like I said, you don’t seem like a local yokel.” Lowering my voice, I said, “Are you into something now?”
“A little bit of this, a little bit of that. Nothing I could cut you in on, if that’s what you want to know.”
“That’s not why I was asking. I told you I’ve got something starting up in Florida soon. It’s just that I’ve been thinking of trying something new once I get a stake together, and if this Florida job works out the way I think it will, I’ll be able to put it together. I could use some help, but most of the other people in the boiler—Most phone solicitors don’t have the imagination I need. I just have a hunch that you might be exactly the kind of man I’m looking for, but if you’re already committed…”
“Only for a little while longer,” Max assured me. “Once this job’s over, my dance card is yours to fill. If the plan is worthwhile, that is.”
“Oh, it is,” I said. “I’ve got a few more details to work out, but I think it’s going to be big.” I looked around the room and made a face. “Big enough to buy this place.”
“The bar?” Max said with amusement.
“The bar? I’m talking about enough money to buy the whole damned town.” I thought I had him hooked, but he was doing a good job of playing it cool, so I said, “Of course, if you’re not interested…”
“I might be interested, but I’d have to know a whole lot more before I could say for sure.”
“Well, I’ve come up with a twist on rent skimming.” My using the phrase was just to get Max’s attention, but Michelle had fed me enough details that I thought I could fool him into thinking I knew what I was talking about. She’d even come up with a scheme using crooked contractors that sounded as if it could work. The plan was for me to get Max to trust me by pretending to trust him. Then maybe he’d talk more about what he was doing in Byerly. “Of course, I can’t go into details here.”
“Maybe we should go someplace a little more private.”
I gave him a look. “Would that be for business or for pleasure?”
“Honey, I always mix business with pleasure.”
The bar’s phone had been ringing on and off all night, but this time, after the bartender answered, he called out, “Is there a Lori Yadon in here?”
I looked up, surprised. Richard was the only one other than Max that I’d given that name to. “That’s me,” I said and took the portable phone from the bartender. “Hello?”
“Laura?” Richard said. “There’s a fire at Aunt Maggie’s place.”
Half a dozen questions were on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t ask any of them in front of Max. All I said was, “I’m on the way.” I broke the connection and laid the phone on the bar. “Max, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. My aunt fell and hurt her hip. She’s afraid it might be broken, so I’ve got to get her to the hospital.”
“Is she going to be all right?” he asked, sounding sincere.
“I don’t know. I’ve got to get over there.” I grabbed my purse and started digging around for money.
“I’ll cover the beer,” he said. “You want me to drive you over there?”
“No, thanks. I’ll be fine. I’ll be in touch about… About that other thing. You’re in the book, right? Bye!” I rushed out the door, risking breaking my ankles with those heels. I started the car, rolled down the window, and waited for Augustus, who came out a minute later.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“There’s trouble at Aunt Maggie’s. Have you got your truck?”
He nodded.
“Then I’ll see you there.” I drove off, leaving him to follow.
Chapter 32
Byerly isn’t a big town—unless the traffic or weather is bad, it doesn’t take but a few minutes to cross from one border to another. So I don’t know why it seemed to take hours for me to drive to the Burnette home place. When I got to the right street, I saw Byerly’s ladder truck partially blocking the way, and the road was lined with cars that had sirens stuck on their dashboards to identify them as belonging to volunteer firemen. One of Byerly’s police cruisers was parked sideways to stop cars from going farther.
I parked as close as I could and saw Augustus pulling up behind me. Going as fast as I could in those damned shoes, I jumped out of the car and ran the rest of the way to the house. Augustus caught up with me, and helped me push my way through the crowd of neighbors standing around to watch.
Finally, I got close enough to see that the house was still standing, and a weight I hadn’t known was there lifted from my chest. I know it’s only a house, but there’s a reason we call it the home place. No matter where we Burnettes end up living, that old farmhouse is home to all of us.
There had been damage. The living-room window was shattered and smoke was still seeping out, and the front porch was blackened with soot. Water streamed everywhere, making rivers of ash that ran down the street. The stench was the worst, a nasty, acrid smell that made me want to brea
the through my mouth.
In the glare of the flashing lights from the fire trucks, I saw Richard standing with Linwood and Junior in the driveway, and I tried to make my way over there without stepping on any of the glass from the windows.
“Is Aunt Maggie all right?” I demanded as soon as we were close enough to be heard.
Richard said, “She’s fine—she was still at the auction when it started.”
“What about Bobbin?”
“She’s with Aunt Maggie.”
I took a deep breath, more relieved than I could have said. “Thank goodness. What in the Sam Hill happened?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Junior said.
“I already told you what happened,” Linwood said, his face red. I wasn’t sure if it was from anger or exertion, but I suspected it was from both. “I was driving by and saw the fire, so I jumped out and got the hose to try and put it out.”
“You just happened to be driving by?” Junior said with more than a trace of skepticism.
“Why shouldn’t I drive by my own family’s house?”
Before Junior could answer, Richard said, “That must have been about the time I got back. I didn’t see Linwood, just the fire, so I went to a neighbor’s house and called 911, and then Laura. After that, I came over, saw Linwood with the hose, and tried to help him as best I could.”
“I was doing fine without him,” Linwood said ungraciously.
“Quite a coincidence that y’all both showed up right then,” Junior said.
Richard said, “What can I tell you, Junior? We were lucky.”
“Lucky that nobody was home, either,” she said. “Isn’t that your rental car in the driveway, Richard? How come neither you nor Laura were driving it?”
Luckily, before we had to come up with an explanation for my being in Aunt Nora’s car while Richard was driving Aunt Daphine’s, Tavis Montgomery came up, dressed in his fire gear. “It’s all over but the cleanup,” he said. “Good work there, Randolph. The rest of us might as well have stayed home.”
I could almost see Linwood’s head swell, but I wouldn’t have begrudged it if I hadn’t remembered that some rage arsonists get a special kick out of saving the places they set fire to.
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