by Celia Roman
I leaned my head back and gazed up at the sky capping the woods. ‘Course, he was. Gossip made sure of that. “When can we visit him?”
“You should be able to see him on the next regular visitation day at the Detention Center. I’ll check and let you know.”
He nattered on a few minutes more about strategy and a bond hearing and whatnot, and I took it all in, already dreading having to relay the whole of his conversation to my cousins.
Cousin Libby called whilst I was hanging my rake on its proper hook in the tool shed. I dug around in my back pocket and fished my phone out, and cradled it between my shoulder and ear so as to finish tidying up during our talk. “Howdy, cuz. How’s them young’uns of yourn?”
“They’re fine,” Libby said in that smooth cadence of hers. “Charlie insists I cut his sandwiches like you do.”
I laughed as I dragged a half-full bag of homemade mulch into the shed and stored it. “Thanks for making sure that Ew’ah was took care of.”
“I only arranged it.”
“Yeah, but if you hadn’t, I woulda had to figure out a way to scare it off myself. No telling what that woulda took.”
“Or how long.” Libby cleared her throat, and when she spoke again, her voice was a mite softer. “Listen, Sunny. I know we’re a new part of your family in a way, but your grandfather’s birthday is next week.”
A grin split my face from ear to ear. I brushed my hands off on the seat of my jeans, then slid outta the shed and locked it tight behind me. “Ya don’t say.”
She launched into a full-blown explanation of party favors and cakes, and added, “Hush, now. It’s supposed to be a secret.”
I shook my head and played along, like a good granddaughter would, I reckoned. But lordy, I had to bite my tongue a time or two ‘til Libby wound down and we said our goodbyes. Here we were pretending to keep something secret we all knowed darn good and well weren’t.
Only in the South.
After we hung up, I trotted into the trailer and washed up, then hoofed it up the trail toward Fame’s. Gentry was outside on the porch leaning against the railing, his gaze fixed on a spot only he could see. For the first time since Fame’s arrest, my cousin was dressed for the weather in worn jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt emblazoned with the logo of Amon Amarth, his favorite metal band. I slowed my steps a mite, hoping he’d see me before I startled him, and was rewarded by the sight of the critter scampering off Gentry’s shoulder down his leg and back into the cage.
I sighed. Some battles just wasn’t worth fighting.
“Hey, Gentry,” I called as I jogged the rest of the distance ‘twixt the trailhead and the porch.
He glanced over at me and nodded, real solemn like. “The sheriff come by again.”
That stopped me dead in my tracks. “What?”
“Had a search warrant. Messed the trailer up good.” Gentry swallowed hard and his face twisted into a frown. “Turned my bed over and stomped on the sheets, him and some deputies. I gotta wash ‘em all over again, and wash day was just yesterday.”
It was all I could do to bite back the curses springing to my lips. Son of a biscuit eater. Sheriff Treadwell had some nerve. I resumed my walk uphill and took the wood steps to the porch two at a time. “I’m sorry, hon.”
“I gotta wash ‘em, Sunny, twice in two days.” Gentry swiped a sleeve across his nose and sniffed. “What’d he go and do that for?”
“I reckon he was just doing his job searching for evidence and such.”
‘Though he coulda been a mite more considerate of them what had naught to do with nothing. Poor Gentry. Good thing I come up when I did. Seemed like my kin needed all the help they could get right now.
I patted Gentry’s shoulder, then opened the door, and what I saw took my breath. Furniture overturned, pots and pans out in the floor, food strewn ever where. Missy was kneeling in the midst of it, her head bowed as she mopped up an overturned container of leftover vegetable soup. Trey popped outta his bedroom scowling like the devil was in him, and I just stood there looking at the ruins of what’d been a clean and tidy roost the last time I seen it.
Deep inside, something ugly and twisted and awful took root. It grew and grew, spreading heated anger into ever cell of my body, consuming me the same way a fire sweeps through the forest, burning ever thing in its path.
“I’m gonna kill him.”
Missy’s head jerked around and her violet eyes went wide, and Trey’s eyebrows arched high on his forehead.
I’d said that, me, in a voice so low and guttural, I hadn’t recognized it.
Missy pushed herself off the kitchen floor and held a calming hand out to me. “Don’t say that, darling.”
“I know what a search warrant gives the law leave to do,” I retorted. “It ain’t this.”
Trey’s mouth opened and closed, and at last he shrugged. “He’s done worse.”
“Yeah.”
I raked my hands over my stick straight hair, then let ‘em drop to my side. Anger roiled inside me, but that wouldn’t do nobody no good, would it? Here was a mess to clean and family to comfort, but I sworn right then and there. Sheriff Treadwell’d get what was coming to him. I was gonna make darn sure he got it soon.
I stayed and lent a hand at cleanup ‘til ever thing was set to rights, then me and Trey run into town for a load of fresh groceries.
The cleaning burned off a good slice of my anger, but I was still spitting mad. If this was how the good sheriff run an investigation, it was a wonder somebody hadn’t killed him already.
Soon as the last can of fresh bought biscuits was stowed away in the sparkling clean fridge, I trudged home down the trail and called BobbiJean. Weren’t nothing I could do nohow ‘til visitation rolled around at the jail. ‘Sides which, if I stayed close to home, I was liable to do something stupid, like march over to the Sheriff’s Department and give that no good sheriff a stiff dose of what-for.
I was of a good mind to do it anyhow.
BobbiJean was delighted to be invited along on a Christmas shopping expedition, ‘specially once I told her I was in dire need of help picking out something special for Riley. We arranged to meet first thing the next morning at Injun Bob’s Pawn Shoppe and Fine Antiquities, the junk store she run in her granddaddy’s stead. I hung up still mad, and because of it, called Riley instead of simmering in frustration.
He answered on the first ring. “Hey, baby.”
The last of my spitfire drained right on out, replaced by a gooey warmth right where my heart shoulda been. “Hey. What’re you doing?”
“Thinking about calling you.” He cleared his throat, then tacked on, “Deciding when to call.”
His voice sounded off. Reserved, maybe. I slumped into the couch and stared up at the now white ceiling. Dang critter’d probably done that, but I was all outta thunks to think on.
“You can call anytime. I thought I told you that.”
“You did. It’s just, ah.”
The gooeyness dissipated a mite. “It’s just what?”
Riley sighed. “Todd Franks called me about an hour ago. They got some hits on the fingerprints found at the crime scene?”
“Which one?”
“The campsite.”
I waited a minute for him to go on. When all what met my ear was silence, I said, “And?”
“They found Lily and Ferd’s fingerprints everywhere.”
“’Course they found them, Riley. Get to the good part.”
“They didn’t find any of Fame’s.”
My eyelids slid closed, hiding the ceiling from view. Thank the good Lord above. Maybe that’d exonerate my uncle, or at least make it a lot harder for the prosecutor to build a case against him.
‘Specially if the real culprit’s fingerprints happened to turn up.
“And?” I prompted again.
“And what?”
I blew out a breath. “What is it with you tonight, Riley? Just spill the beans instead of making me pull it outta you one ti
ny bit at a time.”
“Ok. Just…stay calm.”
“I’m always calm.”
“Sunny.”
Ok, so that was a whopper, but still. I didn’t rile all that easy. “You gonna tell me or what?”
He waited a minute more, then said, “Belinda.”
My eyes popped open and I sat straight up on the couch. “What?”
“Belinda Arrowood.” Riley sighed again and something heavy thumped in the background. “Don’t go gunning for her.”
Oh, I weren’t making no promises on that. That ol’ she cat had earned what I dished out on her, starting with her telling me Riley was above my kind.
I shoved old hurts down and focused on the now. “When did they figure out it was her fingerprints?”
“No idea. Why?”
“’Cause your daddy and a coupla deputies just tore up Fame’s trailer from one end to t’other.” Just saying it rekindled the mad in me all over again, like Lazarus rising from the grave. I inhaled a deep breath and let all of it out at once, air and mad and hate. “It took all four of us the entire afternoon and part of the evening to clean up the mess they made.”
“God, Sunny. I’m sorry.”
“They emptied the fridge, Riley, emptied the whole thing on the floor and—”
I bit them words off, hoping against hope to stave off another bout of anger. Last thing I needed was to stay het up over all this. Couldn’t help nobody that way, could I?
“Do you want me to come over?” Riley asked.
“I’m ok, Riley. Thanks, though.”
“Just say the word, baby.”
“I know,” I said, soft like.
I let him lead me into a gentle flirt, let him soothe me the way only he could. By the time we hung up and I headed to bed, my head was on straight again.
Only, deep down, a tiny kernel of mad dug in, germinating in the part of me I weren’t too keen on seeing up close.
Chapter Eleven
Shopping with BobbiJean was like trying to catch a breath in the midst of a hurricane. We skipped breakfast (what with morning sickness, she didn’t much feel like eating) and headed straight down to the Mall of Georgia in Buford. Traffic was light and the mall weren’t overly crowded, which mighta been a good thing. BobbiJean near about dragged me inside, and if we didn’t hit ever store in there, it was a close thing.
I picked out presents for Fame and Missy and the boys, dithered over something for Riley, and gawked whilst BobbiJean dang near bought out the mall.
We stowed the morning’s shopping in the trunk of her car, then grabbed a bite at the food court and went at it again. I sworn, I never spent so much time shopping in one day in my life, including the time her and Missy drug me down here to find a dress for Rhapsody in Rabun, mine and Riley’s first real date.
By the time we headed home in mid-afternoon, I was plumb wore out. She dropped me off at my car, still parked outside Injun Bob’s. Soon as I cranked the IROC, I dug out my cellphone and texted Riley. Tonight was Wednesday supper, but I sure weren’t up to no cooking.
Before I even had a chance to drop my phone onto the passenger’s seat, it rung. I glanced at the caller ID and a warm heat spread through me. Riley.
Soon as I said hello, his familiar voice drifted to me. “Hey, baby. Rough day?”
“Just a long’un. Me and BobbiJean went shopping.”
He laughed. “That’s getting to be a habit.”
“Hush now,” I said, tart just like he liked me. “Else I’ll take your Christmas present back and exchange it for this nifty leather jacket BobbiJean tried to talk me into getting.”
“You got me a present?”
I couldn’t quite make out the note in his voice, whether it was surprise or hope or him just being sweet. “Is you my feller or ain’t ya?”
“Is,” he said right off and kindly firm. “Since you had a hard day in the trenches—”
“Ha!”
“—why don’t I treat you to supper?”
I relaxed into the driver’s seat and let my gaze wander over the plate glass windows fronting Injun Bob’s. “You don’t gotta do for me all the time, Riley.”
“I want to.” Another male voice speaking soft overlapped his last word, and Riley sucked in a sharp breath. “I’ve got news anyway.”
“Something wrong?”
“Depends on who you are. Another body was found.”
I sat bolt upright. “Where?”
“Couple of miles away from your aunt and uncle’s campsite. Same scenario. A camper in an isolated area. Hole gouged into the middle of his chest.”
Hope rose sharp and swift. Here was the evidence we needed to clear Fame’s name. He couldn’ta killed this feller, whoever the poor sap was, since he was still under lockdown at the local jail.
“Dad’s trying to keep it quiet, so don’t say anything, ok?”
“Scout’s honor,” I promised, though I’d never been anywhere near a scout meeting. Closest I ever come was seeing Riley in his Boy Scout uniform once.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Clayton. Why?”
“I’ll be home soon. Why don’t you go to my apartment and let yourself in with the spare key? That way, you don’t have to drive all the way out home and back.”
I slumped back in the driver’s seat and chewed on my lower lip. I knowed perfectly good and well where Riley stashed his spare key. Hadn’t ever been invited to use it before, and I weren’t rightly sure what to say to the invite now.
“I’ll be home soon,” Riley continued, like a silence a mile wide hadn’t fallen between us. “We can order a pizza from Mama G’s and watch a movie or something.”
I sighed and give in to the inevitable. If I didn’t, he’d just coax me into it anyhow. Riley had a knack for getting me to do what he wanted, and that weren’t no lie. “All righty then. See you soon.”
“Make yourself at home, Sunny.”
We finished the call on a bunch of mushy kiss-kiss stuff, and I hung up shaking my head. Six months ago, I never woulda believed it if somebody’d told me I’d be dating Riley, let alone using his spare key, and now look at where we was. Him spending the night in my bed, me letting myself into his apartment whilst he was at work. Next thing’d be picking out draperies together or some such.
I snorted out a laugh and shifted the IROC into reverse, and had a long, stern talk with my imagination when it tried to wander away from my driving onto the possibilities of having more with Riley.
A short drive later, I parked outside Riley’s two-story brick apartment complex just inside the Clayton city limits, retrieved his spare key, and let myself in. He wouldn’t be home for another hour, so I took my boots off and stretched out on the couch for a short nap.
Soon as I shut my eyes, Lily and Ferd’s campsite popped into my head in all its vividly horrific glory. I was standing on the trail surrounded by their effects. The overturned Coleman stove. The tent shredded and scattered. The blood, pools of it striping the ground in ever direction.
This way, a voice inside me whispered, and I turned toward the stone outcroppings. Something lingered there, a malevolence I could neither see nor ken, but I could feel it. It crept under my skin, scraping raw nerves. This way, the voice insisted, and my feet carried me forward through water and dust and the crisp, brown swirl of falling leaves, right up to the rocks jutting toward the trail.
I laid a hand on the stone, cold, solid granite, and it moved and separated from the mountain, and became a rough figure. I jerked my hand away and backed up, but it was too late. The figure reached blunt paws toward me and toppled me over, smothering the breath out of me. The scene dimmed and blackened around me as I struggled to breathe, struggled to wiggle out from under the oppressive weight of stone and evil.
“Sunshine.”
I placed my palms flat against the figure and shoved, only it weren’t solid rock what met my flesh. It was warm clothing. My eyes popped open, and there was Riley lying on top of me. Not
a ton of stone come to life, just sweet, sweet Riley still wearing his work uniform of khakis and a black polo embroidered with the Department of Natural Resources logo.
I blinked at him, clearing my vision, and finally focused on the small smile he was wearing. “You’re home early.”
“I’m home right on time. Spread your knees a little.”
I did as he asked without thinking, and he eased his hips right up against mine. Took me a minute to realize what I was feeling. That weren’t stone pressing against my nethers. It was him in all his glory.
Was all I could do not to rotate my hips against his. I mustered up an unamused scowl. “Where’d that come from?”
“From thinking about my woman waiting for me at home.” He rotated his hips into mine, pressing his erection right up against my womanly parts through our pants. “I like having you here.”
“I can tell.”
He grinned and slid a hand down my leg, then lifted it and pinned it high against his hip. “What do you say to a little afternoon delight?”
I arched an eyebrow, determined to keep my cool in spite of the pleasant heat coiling deep down where a woman liked it best. “I’d say if that’s what you call little, I’d hate to see big.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet, baby.”
He dipped his head and captured my mouth with his, and my hands curled into fists against his chest, that warm, muscled chest I was beginning to know a mite too well. He shoved his hips into mine, good and hard, and a moan worked its way outta my throat into the kiss.
Riley drew back and stared down at me. Them hazel eyes of his was near to blazing and his face was taut and passionate and greedy. “Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head against the couch, ‘bout the only answer I could give him what with desire tightening my throat.
“Good.” He shoved his hips into mine again, forcing an answering throb in my nethers, and his hand slid up my leg under my shirt right onto my bare stomach. “I’ve been waiting to make love to you, Sunny, waited so long.”