by Anna Castle
She saw me and started to say something, but one of the guys waved his cup at her and she detoured to the coffee station. She refilled their cups and brought me a glass of iced tea, my regular drink. Then she slid into the booth across from me and took both my hands in hers.
“Honey. We heard about you and Ty and your horrible ordeal. We’re both just worried sick about it.”
“It’s not fair for him to be in jail.” The warmth in her eyes made tears well up in mine. I retrieved my hand and busied myself with the sweetener.
She nodded, watching me. “It must have been a terrible shock for you.”
“For Ty too.” I took a sip of cold tea. “For everybody.”
Perline stood up, dabbing the corner of her eyes with her apron. “Let’s get you some food and then we’ll have a talk. The special is meatloaf, how does that sound?”
It sounded fine. She went back to the kitchen, taking a tub full of dishes with her, and came out again in a few minutes. “Do you know anything about what’s going on?”
I nodded. “I’ve just been to see Ty and I talked to Deputy Penateka before that.”
“How’s my favorite cousin holding up? I’m meaning to get over there this afternoon. I want to bring him some food, if they’ll let me.”
“He’s okay, all things considered. I don’t know if they let you bring him stuff. He’s got a lawyer coming on Monday.”
“Not ‘til Monday? Can’t they do anything sooner?”
“I guess not. It’s his ex-wife, he said.”
“He’s hiring his ex for his lawyer?”
I shrugged. “Do you know her?”
Perline shook her head. “Ty hasn’t been around much in the past fifteen years. He walked straight to the bus station after his high school graduation and didn’t come back once until their father died. He didn’t even come to my wedding, though he did send us a nice present. I don’t think anybody went to his, except Diana and Uncle Carl. We got all our news about Ty from Diana.”
Rats. I’d been hoping for details about this ex-wife lawyer. Like, was she prettier than me? She was probably smarter in the important ways and we could safely assume she was richer.
Perline got up and started wiping tables. “I don’t believe for one minute that Ty would do such a terrible thing.” She shook the rag at me for emphasis. “It’s sneaky, for one thing, and Ty Hawkins might have a temper, but he always owned up to his mistakes.”
“I agree. And thank you. I hadn’t thought of that particular point.”
She set a hand on her hip, looking thoughtful. “He is awful protective about Diana, though. He practically raised her, you know, after their mother left.”
“What happened to their mother, anyway? Ty mentioned once that she left, but in that tone of voice that says, ‘Don’t go there.’”
Perline sighed, raising both shoulders and letting them fall. “They never talk about it. It pretty much knocked the stuffing out of Uncle Carl. Aunt Daisy was a lot like Diana in some ways, I guess. A beautiful woman who loved to have fun. Things got too hard for her out on that ranch—too much work and not enough play. Or money. She went to the store one day and never came back. Turned out she ran off with some siding salesman she’d met at the Trick.”
The Hat Trick Saloon was Lost Hat’s pool and dance hall.
“Poor children! That must’ve been awful. How old were they?”
“Ty was about ten, so Diana would’ve been sixish.” She shook her head sadly. “Uncle Carl fell right to pieces. We all tried to help out. My folks would’ve taken those kids in, gladly. What’s a couple more? But Ty refused to budge. He was such a serious boy. He took charge of things, getting Diana ready for school, getting supper on the table in the evening.”
“Poor baby.” That explained so much about him. When we had dinner at his house, Ty cooked, set the table, and dished up the food, while Diana entertained us with her lively stories. I’d thought it was for me, to show off, or because he was a shade controlling and liked things done his way. Now I understood where the control came from—the need to keep his little family together as best he could. I loved him more in that moment than I had ever loved anyone outside my own family.
“So, there wasn’t any—you know.” I hated to say it, but it had to be asked. “Family violence. Their father didn’t hit them?”
“Uncle Carl? Never! That man wouldn’t swat a fly. He shrank into himself, getting smaller and quieter. He was the sad kind of drunk, not the mad kind.” She wagged her finger at me. “And we’d’ve known. We were in and out of that house all the time, bringing casseroles and whatnot. Nobody ever hit anybody.”
She glared at me as if I’d been spreading ugly rumors.
“Who never hit who?” Cracker came out of the kitchen with a Shiner Bock in his hand and my lunch in the other. He was a large man all the way around, tall and barrel-chested, with a square head and a nose that looked like it’d been broken. A ruckus of wiry red hair covered most of his head. He pulled a chair over and sat down at the end of my booth.
“We’re talking about Tyler,” Perline said.
“I can’t imagine Ty in a brawl.” He winked at me. “Might scuff those fancy boots.”
“They’re saying Ty and Roger Bainbridge got into a big fight a week ago Wednesday and Ty hit Roger so hard it cracked his skull on something.”
Cracker tucked his chin. “If that’s their story, they’re way off base.”
“That’s their story, all right.” My spirits were rising. I had allies. I also had meatloaf, moist and oniony with a tart ketchup glaze. I liked to mince it up and mix it with my mashed potatoes.
Cracker sipped his beer and watched me eat for a while. Perline finished wiping down the tables and gave the guys by the window their check. They paid and she came back to sit across from me again.
“I don’t believe it and I never will,” she said.
“I don’t know Ty that well,” Cracker said. “I only met him for the first time a month ago, when he came in and told us about that spa thing he wants to build out there. I’ve been looking forward to having a new class of clientele.”
The word ‘clientele’ sounded exotic in Cracker’s Georgia drawl.
“This meatloaf is great.” I tried not to sound too skeptical. “But it’s not exactly spa cuisine.”
Cracker puffed out his chest. “I can cook anything from sushi to souvlaki. I make a vegetable curry that’ll put hair on your chest.”
A new spa treatment! How well would that sell? “All right, all right.” I raised my tea glass to him. “Here’s hoping you get your chance.”
Perline said, “Sheriff Hopper must have gone plain crazy. He can’t have anything to back up these ridiculous charges against Ty.”
“The main thing seems to be the argument at the barbecue place,” I said.
Cracker blew a disdainful raspberry. “Well, if that’s all they’ve got, we’re home free. That guy Bainbridge got up a lot of people’s noses. He tried to hustle us one afternoon, talking about turning the old title company down there—” He jerked his chin toward the corner of the square across from my studio. “Into a four-star restaurant. ‘Collaborate or compete, it’s your choice.’ That’s what he said, word for word, right to our faces.”
“Like a threat, I took it.” Perline’s eyes sparked with the challenge.
“An empty one.” I pointed my fork at the vanishing meatloaf. “I’d give this five stars right here and it’s not even my favorite thing on y’all’s menu.”
They beamed at me, the model diner. I polished off my excellent lunch under their approving gazes, thinking about how Roger-Dodger had tried to play the same game with these folks as he had with Ty. Collaborate or compete, eh? That would piss off pretty much anybody.
I laid my utensils on the empty plate and wiped my lips with the napkin. Cracker took the plate and set it on the table behind him. “How about a slice of lemon pie?”
“In a bit.” I dug into my backpack and pulled out
my memo book. “First, we have to help Ty.”
“Help Ty, then pie,” Cracker said with a broad grin.
Perline gave him a light swat on the shoulder and eyed my notebook with interest. “What’ve you got there?”
“A list of questions I think the sheriff should be asking.”
“Who’s in charge of the case?” Cracker asked. “Please tell me it’s Dare Thompson.”
“No,” I said. “He’s got a conflict of interest. The sheriff put Penateka on it.”
Perline and Cracker frowned in unison. She said, “He’s a nice young man, but he’s as green as spring grass. Fresh out of the academy, according to Marion, and he can’t be a day over twenty-two.”
“Green or not, he’s what we’ve got.”
“Another rhyme,” Cracker said. “What’s the conflict of interest? Dare doesn’t even own that scrap of land his trailer sits on.”
“There’s an idea that this might all have something to do with Diana.” I flipped open the book and looked expectantly into their puzzled faces. “We need alternative suspects for Ty’s lawyer. We have to think of people other than Ty who could’ve gotten mad enough at Roger Bainbridge to knock him into a stone wall. Especially people who might at some time or another have been involved in some way or another with Diana. Any ideas?”
Perline rolled her eyes. “You’re gonna need a bigger notebook.” She went over to the cash register counter and rummaged underneath it. She found a stack of shrink-wrapped legal pads, slit it open with a lacquered thumbnail, and brought me one, dropping it on the table in front of me with a flourish.
I stared at her. “What, does this run in the family?” I started copying my Things to Find Out onto the spacious pages.
Cracker chuckled, then caught himself. “None of this is really funny, I know. But those two questions let in half the county.”
“You’re thinking Diana had something going with Roger, aren’t you?” Perline nodded, answering for me. “They had lunch in here last week. It looked like business—they had papers out and were looking at some kind of map—but I thought I detected a little undercurrent.”
“She’s keen on undercurrents.” Cracker waved a meaty hand at the mural.
Perline gave him a wifely look. “Don’t you have veggies to prep or something?”
He chuckled. “I hear girl talk coming. Time to make myself scarce.” He levered himself up and went back the kitchen, taking my plate with him.
Perline slid into the seat across from me. She leaned in and lowered her voice, even though we had the place to ourselves. “I got the feeling they were working on something behind Ty’s back. You know what I mean? Making some kind of secret plan about that spa.” She tapped a finger on my legal pad. “You should write that down.”
“I don’t have to. That’s the main motive they have for Ty, that he killed Roger to keep him away from Diana. We need somebody else.”
“Like Dare, you mean. Do you think she was cheating on him?”
“Maybe,” I said. “What do you think?”
She gazed at a glittery starfish slowly turning in the breeze from the air vent, her lipsticked mouth twisted with the effort of calculation. “No. At least, not yet. But there were smiles, you know. Private kinds of smiles. A touch of the hand, a giggle or two.” She shrugged. “She might’ve been playing him, you know. Using him to get some leverage with Ty. She’s a lovely woman, don’t get me wrong, but men do things for beautiful women and they kind of get used to the service. The next step is getting used to kind of encouraging them, not necessarily exactly on purpose.”
“I get it. Not so much poor Diana being manipulated by the dastardly salesman as two old pros trying to con each other.”
Perline hummed at that. “Con might be a shade too strong. But Diana wasn’t above flirting her way out of trouble or into something good. I love that girl like a sister, but they spoiled her rotten. Ty was only a kid himself when their mother left. He figured the way to take care of Diana was to give her whatever she wanted. She had those two men of hers wrapped around her little finger—and every other man who crossed her path from then on.”
“Who, specifically?” I turned to a blank sheet and wrote Old flames across the top. “Old boyfriends? Any grudges, torches still being carried?”
“Old boyfriends in a line from here to Dallas…” She cocked her head to think about it. “She dated Ben Jernigan back in high school. They were Homecoming King and Queen, as a matter of fact.”
“Tillie’s husband?”
“Uh-huh. Talk about carrying a torch! He could’ve won the Olympics. He must’ve asked her to marry him a hundred times. I’m sorry to say she kept him dangling for a good while.”
“Why did Ben marry Tillie, then? If he was so hot for Diana.” I felt a pang of sympathy for my best friend.
“I guess he finally wised up. Tillie is such a sweet girl. They got together round about the last time Diana went up to Dallas.”
“Did she spend a lot of time there?” This had all happened before I’d moved to Lost Hat. I knew Diana intimately, in the sense that we’d chatted while brushing our teeth, but not well in terms of historical details. The Hawkins kids left the past in the past.
“She used to go back and forth,” Perline said. “Up there for a while, here for a while, working at the Hat Trick Saloon. Then last year, I guess she’d had enough. She might’ve gotten a DUI in Dallas or something that shook her up. She went into rehab for most of April, which didn’t quite take. She tried again in August and started dating Dare right after that. She’s been as good as gold ever since, as far as I know.”
My opinion of Diana rose several notches. It takes courage to keep picking yourself up and going back to ask for more help. I sincerely hoped that wherever she was right now, she was sober, for her own sake. Sober, alive, and not guilty of manslaughter.
In the meantime, my boyfriend was still in jail. “So that’s Ben Jernigan,” I said, writing it down. “Who else?”
“She and Wade Pankey—the guy who owns the Hat Trick—had a thing going for a while. But he’s been in a wheelchair for the past five years. He wrecked his car on 88 one night after work.”
“Oh. That lets him out.” I drew a line through the name I’d just written down. “We need people who could’ve hauled a body up to Mt. Keno and dug a grave. Which reminds me of one of my main questions: why there?”
“It does seem like a lot of trouble, now that you mention it.” Perline thought for a moment. “Although it is a lovely spot. I wouldn’t mind being buried up there myself.”
She had a point; an excellent point. But how did it fit in? Was the killer remorseful or did he—or she, or they—choose that spot in a deliberate attempt to implicate Ty? “Ty told me once they used to play up there when he was a kid. Do you know who all was in his old gang?”
“Of course! Me and my sisters played up there too, sometimes. Not often. The boys were into rougher games, like Rangers and Indians.”
“That’s right. They thought that stone enclosure might have once been some kind of Indian graveyard.”
“That was mostly Hank. He thinks he’s part Apache.” She gave a mock shudder. “Creepiest thing on earth, having that boy stalk you through the woods. That’s mainly why I didn’t like their games.”
“Wait—you don’t mean Hank Roeder? The one with the skull tattoo? He was friends with Ty?”
“Oh, yes.” Perline laughed. “He wasn’t quite the ultimate Redneck Devil back then. Just a skinny kid with a bad attitude. The Roeders work for the Caines and live on the 3C. Then there’s the Matslars right across the road. The four boys—Ty, Carson, Hank, and Sid—were all about the same age, in the same class at school, so naturally they ran around together.” She smiled fondly. “It’s a lot of fun, growing up on a ranch. Being a townie, I always envied them that.”
I finished writing down the three names. “This is good, Perline. Any of these guys would know the roads on the Lazy H and have a soft spot for Mt
. Keno. They’d probably have a pretty good idea of when Ty was out of town too.”
Perline frowned at my notes. “I don’t know, Penny. I don’t want to get those guys in trouble. Hank’s a bit of wildcat, but I’ve got nothing against him. And Sid and Carson are both solid citizens. Married, kids, responsible positions in the community. They both work at Caine Bank, you know. Carson’s running for county commissioner come fall.”
“We’re not getting anyone in trouble,” I said. “We’re just expanding the realm of the possible to where Ty’s not the only one. The goal is to force the sheriff to look harder for the real murderer.”
“Hm. Well, all right. But if it has to have a connection to Diana, then I don’t see one. She wouldn’t touch Hank with a long-handled barbecue fork.”
“What about Sid Matslar?”
“No. He’s not her type.” Perline wrinkled her nose. “She likes ‘em good-looking and ready for fun. Sid’s kind of a Sad Sack, although in fairness, they’re going through a nasty divorce. His wife is taking him to the cleaners, by all accounts, even though she’s the one that had the affair.”
“Oh.” I wrote “nasty divorce” next to Sid’s name. “That can make people crazy. Did he have anything to do with Roger Bainbridge?”
“His family owns land in Long County, so that would be a yes. But I don’t know of anything in particular.”
“Okay. How about Carson Caine?” I waited with pen uplifted. “He’s definitely good-looking.”
“And married, must I add? Diana wouldn’t stoop that low. Although she did have a powerful crush on Carson back when they were kids. But he was older, you know, and four years is a huge difference at that age. She tagged after him and he tried not to notice. By the time she got to high school, the boys had gone off to college. She started dating Ben and that was that. Besides—” She wagged her finger and shook her head.
“Besides what?”
“A Caine and a Hawkins?” She put a finger to the tip of her nose and tilted it toward the ceiling. “Never happen, honey. Carson married a rich society gal from Dallas. They have two little boys. He’s stepping right into his grandfather’s shoes, turning himself into a pillar of the community.”