‘Hey, Vern,’ I said and ambled over, Jean keeping up with me on her crutches. The boys headed straight for the little girl, kneeling down and talking in whispers with her. I shook hands with Vern and Mike, nodded at Lucy and the kids, and was introduced to Crystal.
‘We’re on our honeymoon, and Crystal wouldn’t have us leaving my boys behind! So they came along with us! Ain’t that the damnedest thing?’ Vern said in his booming voice. I could see by the almost-empty bottle of wine by his plate that he’d had a little bit to drink.
‘Vern, honey,’ said the lovely Mrs Crystal Weaver in a sultry Jessica Rabbit voice, ‘you’re embarrassing me, and the boys! Right, boys?’ she said, looking at mostly the teenaged one.
And he was a sight. Dusty-looking brown hair that needed cutting, a forehead covered in zits, and so skinny you could actually see his bones. He looked down at his plate. The other plates were near empty, like at the end of a meal. The boy’s plate hadn’t been touched.
‘I don’t believe we’ve met your older son,’ I said to Vern.
‘Yeah, and you may not now. He’s acting like a shithead and I’m about to send him to his cabin for the rest of the fuckin’ cruise. Excuse my French, ladies.’
‘This is Joshua,’ Crystal said. ‘Joshua, say hello to Mr and Mrs Kovak.’
The boy looked up and said, ‘Hey,’ in a voice that was halfway through the change.
‘Please eat, Joshua, honey,’ Crystal said. ‘I would hate for your dad to send you to your cabin.’
The boy played with his food.
‘It was nice meeting you, Crystal,’ Jean said, ‘and you too, Joshua. But we need to get seated before they give our table away!’ She laughed. It was that tight little laugh she gives off whenever she’s secretly pissed at me but doesn’t want anyone else knowing. It works. The only one who knows is me, and what I did this time I’ll never know.
We said our goodbyes and headed to our table. ‘Can we sit with Janna and Ryan?’ Johnny Mac asked.
‘No, dear,’ Jean said. ‘There isn’t room at their table, and besides, they’re almost through eating.’
‘Josh isn’t,’ my son said.
‘John,’ Jean said and gave him that look.
The boy sighed and picked up the menu.
After we interpreted the menu for them, the boys, being good Oklahoma cattle country young’uns, both ordered steaks and baked potatoes and salads with ranch dressing. When they grow up, they’re both gonna regret giving up this opportunity to partake in some righteous chow they’re not likely to get at home.
I had an appetizer of marinated beef steak tomatoes with bleu cheese crumbles, a main course of lobster gratin with risotto and baby artichokes, and a dessert of flan with flaming strawberries. And Jean and I shared a bottle of Chardonnay. Not that I know that much about wines, but it tasted OK to me.
When we finished and left, we found the Tulias with their daughter and the Weaver boys talking with an older couple and two younger women. One of the women was holding the hand of the other little girl we’d met – Lyssa, I think her name was.
‘Oh, Milt, Jean, we want you to meet some people,’ Mike said, grabbing my arm.
If we’d been in Prophesy County and somebody I didn’t know that well grabbed my arm like that, I’d have a gun under his chin and be reading him his rights in a New York minute. Unfortunately my gun was in the cabin, and this was, I suppose, a social exchange. I tried a smile.
‘These two ladies,’ he said, indicating the younger ones, ‘are Esther Monte – you’ve met her daughter Lyssa, right?’ I nodded. ‘And Rose Connelly and her sons Trip and Jacob. And these two,’ he said, indicating the older couple, ‘are Baker and Linda Connelly, the boys’ grandparents.’
I shook hands, as did Jean, as Johnny Mac and Early moved over to where Janna and the Weaver boys stood.
‘You’re all traveling together?’ Jean said, a sweep of her arm indicating the whole bunch of ’em.
The dark-haired Esther Monte laughed. ‘Oops, no, not us,’ she said, her arm around her daughter’s shoulder. ‘We just met Rose and her boys at the pool earlier today. And they asked us to tag along this evening.’
‘Where are y’all off to?’ Mike asked. ‘Vern and Crystal went to their cabin,’ he said, winking at me, ‘so we’ve got the boys—’
‘Hey, Uncle Mike,’ the older Weaver boy said, ‘I can take all the kids to the children’s pavilion, if that’s OK with everyone?’
Everyone looked at everyone else and then Lucy Tulia said, ‘There’s a comedian I saw on Letterman one time in the comedy club tonight. It’s supposed to be racy, so this way we can actually see it.’ She spoke softly and nodded slightly at the kids. The implication was simple: get rid of the kids and we can go get drunk and talk dirty. Worked for me.
Everybody gave instructions to the older Weaver boy on how to handle their children, and the kids took off. The older couple – the Connellys, I think it was, decided to skip the comedy club.
‘Linda’s not big on smut,’ Mr Connelly said, ‘so we’ll bow out of this.’ Looking at his daughter-in-law, he said, ‘Rose, don’t stay out late and keep an eye on the boys.’
‘Of course, Dad,’ she said and, if I wasn’t mistaken, I think she choked a little on the ‘dad.’ Rose Connelly was a pretty woman – one of those ethereal-looking ladies, with just a bit of blue vein showing through parchment skin, blonde hair with very little pigment and blue eyes so light in color that on an overcast day the irises might appear to be missing. She was wearing a flowing, hippy kind of dress. It suited her.
So, we were all dressed up with someplace to go.
Johnny Mac – Day Two
Joshua Weaver led his little band of misfits from the dining room, around the casino, past the shops, by the bars and auditoriums, to the open deck where the pool was located. There he sat them down at a large table.
‘Is this the children’s pavilion?’ the younger of the two Connelly boys asked. ‘I didn’t bring my swimsuit.’ Like his mother, he was exceedingly fair and had the same blue eyes, with hair so light that in Oklahoma they would have called him ‘Cotton.’
‘Who are you?’ Joshua asked.
For a moment the child looked scared, until his older brother took over. ‘What’s it to you? You’re supposed to be taking us to the children’s pavilion, right? This ain’t it. Lead on, asshole!’ Unlike his mother and younger brother, Trip Connelly bore more of a resemblance to his grandfather – tall, brown-haired, with a ruddy complexion and brown eyes.
Joshua laughed. ‘Got quite a mouth on you, huh, kid? Here’s the deal. I think we can have more fun out here, playing some games – and I’m not talking Monopoly, ’k?’
‘Whatever,’ the older Connelly boy said.
‘So what’s your name, hotshot?’ Joshua asked.
‘Baker Barnet Connelly the third,’ he said. ‘But you can call me Trip.’
‘OK, Trip. And the kid, he got a name?’
The younger one said, ‘I’m Jacob.’
‘How old are you, Jacob?’ Joshua asked.
‘Seven, but I’m pretty strong and I know how to play Monopoly.’
His older brother sighed. ‘We’re not playing Monopoly, numb-nuts! Jeez!’
‘Hey, he just misunderstood!’ Janna said.
‘Yeah,’ Johnny Mac agreed.
‘You freaks want to play a game or not?’ Joshua said.
‘Sure,’ Trip said, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest.
The others nodded their agreement.
‘OK, here’s what we do,’ Joshua said. ‘I’ll count to three, then y’all scatter. Everybody look for something someone left behind on a table or a chair. Grab it and bring it back. Best thing wins.’
‘But isn’t that stealing?’ Johnny Mac asked.
Joshua sighed. ‘Not if we give it back, silly!’
‘Oh,’ Johnny Mac said, trying out this concept in his mind.
‘Now, one, two, three, go!’
Milt – Day Two
The comedian was just stupid, and not that funny. Jean and I left and headed to the bar next to the auditorium. We were followed out by Lyssa’s mom, Esther Monte, who joined us at the bar, with a tall, dark and OK-looking guy in tow.
‘I swear if he said the C word one more time I was going to throw something at him,’ she said. ‘You guys, this is Lance. He was sitting next to me and had the good taste to hate that guy as much as I did.’
Lance took off his suit jacket as he sat down and I saw Armani on the label. I decided to keep my Sears best on. Didn’t need any label comparisons going on. Though the comparisons of the ladies’ dresses were quite obvious: Jean’s red, one-shoulder dress looked fairly classy up against Esther Monte’s black minidress with what they call a sweetheart neckline (Jean told me later) that showed way too much cleavage (she also told me this later – personally, I thought it was just enough), had a plunging back, and (again according to Jean) was entirely too tight. She looked fine to me. I’m just saying.
The new guy held out his hand to me and I shook it. ‘Milt Kovak,’ I said.
‘Lance Turner,’ he said.
‘My wife, Jean,’ I said.
‘Ma’am,’ he said, shaking hands with Jean.
Rose Connelly came out of the auditorium alone. She was wearing a gauzy dress of pale pastels, kinda like a kaftan. I thought she looked like a nun, but Jean told me later that it was a lovely gown. Women – totally different mindset, I’m telling you.
Esther called out, ‘Rose!’ raising her arm to wave. Rose saw us and came over. We’d been at the bar, but with three new people we’d moved to a table.
‘I think “funny” is a generational thing,’ Rose said as she sat down and introductions had been made.
‘Definitely,’ Jean said. ‘My parents thought Bob Hope was funny; my generation had George Carlin.’
‘Personally, I’m an Andy Kaufman kinda guy,’ Lance said.
‘Should I call John?’ Jean asked, holding her hand out for my phone.
‘You never gave it back to me,’ I said.
‘Oh, right!’ She dug in her bag and came up with it.
‘Your son has a cell phone?’ Esther asked.
‘No, not one of his own,’ Jean said. ‘We lent him mine to use when we’re separated aboard ship. It seems to be working,’ Jean said. She held up a finger. ‘Hi, honey,’ she said into the phone. ‘Are you two having a good time?’ She listened for a moment, then looked at her watch. ‘Well, it’s almost midnight—’ She stopped. Then, ‘Well, OK, one o’clock. But you and Early take care of each other, OK?’
Esther waved her hand at Jean. ‘Let me talk to Lyssa!’
Jean said, ‘John, put Lyssa on the phone for her mom.’
It took a minute, but Lyssa obviously came on the line and Esther spoke for a moment.
Rose Connelly asked Jean, ‘Do you think I could speak to my boys? How late does the pavilion stay open?’
‘John said it’s open until one a.m., and of course you can talk to your boys,’ Jean said.
‘Children’s pavilion?’ Lance asked me, an eyebrow raised.
‘Yeah, the ship provides daycare of sorts for the kids. Babysitters and a nice-sized play area. Our son and his friend who’s traveling with us both enjoy it a lot.’
Lance was a little too pretty for me to want to engage him in small talk, other than ‘what do you do?’ which would lead to him asking me what I do, which would blow my anonymity. So I was actually glad to see Mike and Lucy come out of the auditorium.
‘Funny guy!’ Mike said, pointing with his thumb behind him.
‘If you like misogynistic assholes!’ Lucy said.
‘Which you certainly do!’ her husband said, kissing her on the neck.
Lucy laughed. ‘I guess you’ve got my number.’ Jean’s comments on Lucy’s attire were nicer than those on Esther’s but not as nice as those on Rose’s. Lucy was wearing one of those cocktail dresses (difference being, I think, the length – this one hit her at the knees), black like Esther’s, but with sparkly things on the top and the bottom made of some silky material. I thought she looked fine, but Jean said the dress wasn’t that expensive. Well, she said it looked cheap, but I hate to report it when my wife sounds like a snob. Which she does, occasionally.
Since the women were all huddled around the phone, I introduced Lance to the Tulias.
The phone got passed to Rose, who spoke to one of her boys.
‘What’s going on?’ Lucy asked.
‘Everybody’s talking to their kids,’ I said. ‘Johnny Mac said the pavilion stays open until one o’clock and we told him we’d come get him then. Rose and Esther are telling their kids the same.’
‘Lord, I’m a rotten mother!’ Lucy said, digging in her purse for her phone. ‘I didn’t even think about calling Janna!’ She dialed her phone and got her daughter on the first ring.
I ignored her conversation as Mike and I pulled up two extra chairs for our table. Finally, after all the mothers had secure knowledge of their children’s whereabouts, we could relax and order more drinks. Except my phone rang in Jean’s hand. She answered it, said, ‘Emmett, he’s on vacation!’ Then she sighed and handed me the phone.
I excused myself and went to the bar’s bathroom where it was pretty quiet. ‘What now?’ I asked.
‘Sorry to call so late, but I’m at a murder scene,’ he said.
‘No shit?’ I said. ‘Who got killed?’
‘Darby Hunt,’ he said.
I sat down in a stall. ‘Is this a joke?’ I asked.
‘I’m serious as a heart attack.’
‘What happened? I asked.
‘Somebody fired through his mama’s front window, got him right between the eyes,’ Emmett said.
‘Damn good shot,’ I said.
‘Yeah, well in this state, that doesn’t exclude anybody.’
‘I hear ya.’ I sighed. ‘Shit, Emmett, there’s not a damn thing I can do about this—’
‘I know that, Milt, for God’s sake! I’m just keeping you informed.’ He sighed too. ‘I talked to him late this afternoon. I noticed he had a new motorcycle and a new TV in the house, and wondered where he got ’em. He said a lady friend gave ’em to him as a get out of jail gift. Guess who the lady friend is?’
‘I have no idea,’ I said.
‘The principal at Petal’s school,’ Emmett said.
‘Jesus H. Christ on a bicycle,’ I said.
‘Guess who starts public school next week?’
‘Any leads on who killed old Darby?’ I asked.
‘It was a rifle – we’re getting ballistics on that now. No footprints in the packed dirt in his mama’s front yard, no cigarette butts or candy wrappers or other shit. I’m afraid I’m gonna have to talk to the McDaniel family.’
‘It’d be hard not to. They’re your most likely candidates. Keep me posted,’ I said and hung up without a goodbye. I sat there on the toilet for a few moments, pants up, wondering why I decided I could possibly take a vacation. Then I remembered: I never decided that – Jean and Johnny Mac had decided it for me. When you’re a cop for a big city, it’s no big deal taking time off, but when you’re the top cop in a small county, it is a big deal. A very big deal. I had to say, as much as I liked the food, I’d rather be home finding out who killed the killer.
I finally got up and made my way back to the table. More chairs had been pulled up, leaving an empty seat between my wife and Rose Connelly. I pulled it out and sat down.
‘This is the first moment I’ve had alone since we came aboard,’ Rose said.
‘Ah, Rose, you’re not alone now,’ I said.
The women laughed. ‘We know what she means,’ Lucy said. ‘Alone in this instance means sans child.’
‘And in-laws,’ Rose said.
‘Yeah, Rose, how is that?’ Esther asked. ‘Vacationing with your in-laws? And your husband got out of it?’
Rose’s face got a pinkish tinge to it
. ‘My husband died in a car wreck three years ago – with no insurance. I’ve gone back to school to get a degree so I can get a job. Meanwhile, the boys and I are living with Mr and Mrs Connelly.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Esther said, putting her hand atop Rose’s. ‘But that really sucks – having to live with them. Mr Connelly seems like a—’
‘Bit of a control freak?’ Rose supplied.
‘I was going to say asshole,’ Esther said.
Rose laughed. ‘Right on both counts. Thirty years in the air force, last ten as a colonel, makes for a tight ship. Did I mix a metaphor there?’
‘No,’ Lucy said. ‘Only one metaphor. Just seemed like it because you mentioned the air force, then a navy metaphor.’
‘Right,’ Rose said, giving Lucy ‘the obvious’ Tulia a look.
‘Hey,’ Mike said, ‘don’t mind her. She’s a teacher. And when she drinks she gets even worse! After two beers she not only corrects my grammar, she cuts my meat up for me.’
Lucy hit him on the shoulder. ‘I have to!’ she told the rest of us. ‘His grammar is atrocious. And I’m sorry about the metaphor, Rose!’
Rose laughed. ‘Don’t worry about it. But,’ she said, turning to Esther, ‘speaking of husbands, where’s yours?’
‘Never had one,’ she said. ‘Met a gorgeous guy at a bar one night,’ she said, glancing at Lance who sat beside her and slipping her arm into the crook of his. ‘I figured I had the smarts, he had the looks, we’d make a great baby. I was right about that – she’s smart and beautiful. The guy doesn’t know though. Never got his last name!’ She laughed and finished off the Scotch in front of her. ‘God, I can’t believe I just said that to you guys! I mean, you’re my best friends, and all, but you’re still perfect strangers!’ And she got a good case of the giggles.
We all laughed with her. ‘I know. I can’t believe what I said about my in-laws,’ Rose said.
‘Your mother-in-law seems OK,’ Lucy said.
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