by Dixie Cash
The man returned the look he had given her before, but this time it was filled with contempt. “Why?”
Avery was taken aback by his harshness, but she was a pro. She had interviewed reluctant subjects before and handled them well.
Brightening her smile, she said, “I’ve been given the assignment to cover the Elvis birthday celebration. I think the Star-Telegram’s readers would like to read about you and your admiration of Elvis.”
The small man reached into the pocket of his pink sport coat and brought out a huge cigar. He bit off the end and spit it on the gym floor.
Avery blinked, thinking of the fact that this was the Salt Lick school’s basketball court.
“So you think that out of everybody here,” the man said, gesturing with a stubby arm to indicate the entire room, “that I’m the one that’s newsworthy.” Sarcastic emphasis dripped from his last word.
Uh-oh. Alarms went off in Avery’s head. Instantly she decided to cut her losses and move on to the next prospect. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, sir. Have a nice—”
“Just hold it, blondie.” His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist in an unexpectedly strong grip. Dark brown eyes leered at her. “Don’t be in such a hurry. I thought you wanted to ask me questions. Your friggin’ readers already lost interest in me?”
“I’ve decided—”
“What? That maybe I wouldn’t be so damn funny after all? Don’t you want to know where I get Elvis clothing in this size? Don’t you wanna know if I want to be Elvis when I grow up? How about me dancing like him? Wanna see me shake my booty? Wanna see my hips swivel on top of my stumpy legs? How about it, honey?”
Avery attempted to pull back her wrist, but he didn’t relax his grip.
A few eyes had darted their way furtively and a few people openly watched them. “Please don’t—”
“Please don’t what?” His face thrust close to hers, his alcohol breath withering. “Embarrass you? What in the hell would you know about embarrassment? Maybe your readers would like to know how tiring it is for the numb-nuts press to single you out everywhere you go.”
“Sir, I—”
“Tell you what.” He twisted her arm until pain shot from her wrist to her shoulder. “Why don’t you forget your story and spend some time with a real man? You’ve heard that size don’t matter, ain’t you, sweetheart? Trust me, it don’t.”
His words bounced off the gymnasium walls. Noise silenced. Activity came to a stop. All eyes trained on them. Reacting with strength she didn’t know she possessed, Avery yanked her hand back. “I should have you arrested!”
Just then, on the polished gym floor, her tormentor’s folding chair slid from beneath him. His arms windmilled as he fought for balance, but ultimately he hit the floor with a thud and a crash. And to cap her day, from the corner of her eye, Avery could see Elvis and a large dog trotting in her direction.
Arriving at the high-school gym parking lot, Sam saw it was packed. He felt lucky to spy a vacant slot. He pulled into it and surveyed his surroundings. There had to be more than a hundred cars. He could see people spilling out of the gym onto the lawn and many more headed for the football field.
The Flying Elvises were scheduled to make their jump at nine. He still couldn’t figure out how a town like Salt Lick had managed to get them to appear. Perhaps that was another element of the story he should consider.
As he walked toward the gym, he spotted a familiar-looking car.
A glance at the rear bumper and the rental company decal confirmed his suspicion. Avery was here. His pulse rate kicked up, a knot formed in his gut and a heightened sense of everything around him replaced his feeling of well-being. He recognized the adrenaline surge. As a former college athlete himself, he had felt it many times.
Such a reaction to merely seeing Avery’s car was more than a little off-putting. He had barely met the woman, yet she appealed to him on so many levels. She had a sweetness, a naiveté one didn’t expect from a reporter who covered news in a metropolitan area.
Entering the gym he read the sign: VIVA LAS SALT LICK. He caught himself grinning like a fool. This town was starting to grow on him.
Humming to himself, he strolled through the gym. It looked to be a typical casino night. He saw a number of Elvis impersonators throughout the crowd. Where had they all come from? And how had they known of this celebration? They appeared to be having so much fun, he almost wished he had the clothing to change himself into a likeness of the rock ’n’ roll icon.
A female voice yelled his name and he turned toward it. From the far corner of the room he spotted an impersonator frantically waving at him. Then he recognized Edwina motioning him in her direction. When he got closer to her, she grabbed his arm and urged him toward a game.
“Come try your hand at luck and knowledge,” she said.
Beside her stood a person in a dog costume. Sam saw the sign attached to the dog collar and a laugh burst out.
“Hi, Sam,” the dog said in a hollow voice.
He tilted his head for eye contact and saw feminine green eyes framed by lashes coated with thick mascara. “Debbie Sue?”
“I ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog,” the voice said and Sam laughed again.
Behind Edwina, near the game-of-chance wheel, he saw Avery in the exact pose in which he had last seen her, sans the white robe. Her elbows were propped on her knees and her face was buried in her hands. He couldn’t tell if she was sick, in tears or if she had been drinking again, but something was amiss. He shot a look at Edwina.
Edwina grabbed his hand and tugged him toward Debbie Sue. “Here’s two bucks,” she said shoving a couple of crumpled singles into Debbie Sue’s, uh…paw. “Let’s give Sam a chance at the wheel. How good are you at Elvis trivia, Sam I-yam?”
Sam was confused. He hadn’t had the chance to say much more than hello. “Uh, I don’t know. I’ve never been tested.” He gave another quizzical look at Avery, who didn’t uncover her face.
“Ask him a question, Debbie Sue,” Edwina rushed on, talking fast. “Here, ask him this one.” She pointed a long red nail to the middle of a piece of paper Debbie Sue held in her paw.
Debbie Sue, too, looked at Edwina with an expression of confusion. “Oh, uh…okay. Where is Graceland located?”
Sam switched his gaze back and forth between both women. Something was going on, or had already gone on, and his arrival appeared to have triggered a flurry of activity. Deciding to play along, he cleared his throat with a loud growl and answered, “Nashville?”
“That’s it!” Edwina shouted. “Memphis is correct!” She raised a fist. “Yaaaay, Sam!”
Debbie Sue clapped her paws and gave a yay that sounded as if it came from an echo chamber.
Sam gave both women a look of bewilderment. What in the hell was going on here?
Edwina turned him toward the large wheel of chance that was obviously homemade. “Spin the wheel and see what you won.”
He hadn’t won. In what little research he had done, he was positive he had learned that Graceland was located in Memphis. He had said Nashville only to assure that he didn’t win. But something told him it was useless to argue the point. He approached the wheel with caution and gave it a robust tug. As it began to slow, Edwina reached out and stopped it with her hand, altering the game of chance to one of choice.
“Well, would you look at that,” she said as Debbie Sue stood by motionless. “Sam’s won a dinner for two at Tag Freeman’s Double-Kicker Barbeque and Beer.”
Debbie Sue danced from foot to foot and waved her paws.
“Sam, have you eaten supper yet?” Edwina asked.
“Uh, no, I planned on grabbing something here or at—”
“Great. Avery hasn’t eaten either.” Edwina clutched Avery’s arm and pulled her to her feet.
Avery avoided Sam’s gaze. “Edwina, I—”
“Hey, girl,” Edwina said, giving her arm a little shake. “Sam just won a dinner for two at the best barbeque place on the
planet.”
“But—”
“No buts. You two go on up to Midland and have a good time. We’ll be here ’til midnight if you want to come back. We’re gonna take a break to go to the football field and watch the Flying Elvises, but we’ll be right back.” Edwina plucked a piece of paper off the wheel and shoved it into Sam’s hand. “Here’s your gift certificate. Run on now.”
Sam felt like a kindergarten kid who had been given a snack and told to go outside and play. This was some kind of conspiracy. He stared at the certificate. “Uh…”
Edwina guided Avery to his side and he looked at her. She did have the most beautiful, big, clearly green eyes. Green-eyed blondes had always been his favorite. His heartbeat began a tattoo. “Is that okay with you?”
She ducked her chin. “Uh, well, uh—”
“Sure it is,” Edwina said, picking up Avery’s purse and shoving it into her hands. “Go on now.” She pushed at both of them.
Sam grasped Avery’s elbow and they walked side by side toward the gym’s exit without a word to each other. Outside in the schoolyard, he stopped. “Is going to dinner okay with you?” he asked her again.
She smiled and almost melted his bones. “Well, like Edwina said, I haven’t eaten.”
Inside the gym, Debbie planted her paws on her hips and glared at Edwina. Sometimes her pal’s penchant for matchmaking went too far. “Ed, you do not have a subtle bone in your body. I cannot believe you did that.”
“Why not? They’re made for each other. Anybody can see it.”
Debbie pushed her black snout to her forehead so she could talk without sounding as if she were in a well. “Oh, I don’t know. What if he’s a serial rapist or something?”
Edwina’s lips screwed into a sneer. “Serial rapist? You’ve been watching too much Law and Order.”
“I just don’t like forcing two people who don’t know each other into the same car.”
“Stop worrying. It’ll be fine. Unless I’m wrong about those two, we won’t be seeing them again tonight.”
“What if she doesn’t show up tomorrow? It’s bad enough we’ve got to find the shoes. What if we have to look for her, too? And now she’s not gonna get to see the Flying Elvises.”
“She’ll get over it.”
“Oh, my God.” Debbie Sue slapped a paw against her cheek. “Speaking of the Flying Elvises, do you know what I just thought of? I’m gonna have to wear this fuckin’ dog suit out to the football field to watch them. I don’t have anything on but my underwear underneath this thing.”
Edwina cackled. “That’s great. At least you’ll be warm. Be sure to howl when they land.”
chapter twenty
Sam guided Avery to his car, opened the passenger door for her and helped her with her seat belt. He handed her the certificate he had, uh, won and rounded the front of the car, forcing himself not to whistle with glee. He slid behind the wheel and her scent filled the car. Clean and flowery. He couldn’t say the name of the perfume, but it was a fragrance he liked. He buckled his own seat belt, put his fingers on the key and realized he didn’t know where they were going. “Does that certificate have an address on it?”
“There’s a map on the back,” she said, studying it. “Turn left and go to I–20, then to Odessa, then to Midland.”
Sam dutifully followed her instructions and soon they were headed back to where they both had come from. He drove in silence, unable to think of what to say. Avery remained quiet, too. Thank God for directions or they would have no conversation at all. He didn’t want to bring up his job, or hers, and get into shoptalk. He doubted if she had an interest in sports. He suspected she couldn’t care less about his hometown or his childhood. Searching for an innocuous topic, he settled on the weather.
“Nice night.”
“Warm for January,” she said.
“Yeah, I guess. Where I came from, January’s a deep freeze.”
“Where’s that?”
“I came down here from Boise, Idaho, but I grew up in South Dakota.”
“I’ve never been to either one of those states.”
She added nothing else. So at least he had been right about her interests.
When he had first seen her in the gym, he could tell that something was amiss. “Did something happen back there? I saw you were upset.”
Staring through the passenger window, she told him in a soft voice the details of her encounter with a small man.
Sam was shocked and more than a little angry. He couldn’t imagine manhandling a woman. “He twisted your arm? You should file charges.” They weren’t yet to the interstate, so he slowed, pulled to the highway’s shoulder and shoved the gearshift into park. “Let’s go back and find the sheriff. After you talk to him, we can still catch the Flying Elvises. We can eat barbecue another time.”
“No, please. The guy fell off the chair. He got the worst end of it. I don’t want to run into him again. I should have known better than to single him out. He’d been drinking and made a mistake, the same as I did.” She sniffed and reached across the console and placed her hand on his forearm. “Please,” she pleaded again. “Just keep driving. I don’t need any more trouble. This is the first out-of-town assignment the paper has sent me on.”
Tears? Damn, he hated it when women cried. He looped an arm around her and patted her shoulder as he used to do with his sisters. “It’s okay. Don’t cry. Look, we’ll just go on to Midland and have that barbecue.”
He pulled back onto the pavement and soon they were merging onto I–20. “I’m sorry Edwina pushed me on you with that rigged game,” she said, a nervous edge to her voice. “She claims to be some kind of matchmaker. I told her to leave my life alone, but…” Her shoulders lifted in a great sigh. “I’m sure you probably had plans for the evening that didn’t include dining with me.”
Matchmaker? Edwina had set a date up for him and Avery? He smiled inwardly. He would have to thank that ornery woman the next time he saw her. He angled a glance at Avery and saw her staring straight ahead. “Not really. I was just going to hang out for a while and take in the sights, until the Flying Elvises show.”
She turned toward him. “You’ve never seen the Flying Elvises?”
Aha. He heard some enthusiasm in her question. “Actually, I have. In Vegas. When I lived in Boise, I used to go down to Vegas sometimes. The Flying Elvises are a lot of fun to watch.” He stole another sideways glance at her. “Look, Avery, getting something to eat, especially if it’s the best barbeque on the planet, works for me. And I’m glad to have the company, but if you want to see—”
“It works for me, too. I’m glad to get out of that gym. I guess I can see the Flying Elvises another time.”
He slowed again. “Hey, I can take you back. I don’t want you to miss—”
“No, no. That isn’t necessary. I’m sure I’ll have another opportunity to watch them…someday.”
He couldn’t tell if she was really disappointed but just being polite. “Honest, I don’t mind taking you back.”
“No. It’s fine. Really.”
Sam drew a deep breath. Somehow, he didn’t think it was fine. She was uptight and tense.
A cell phone’s blare broke the moment. Sam dug into the pocket of his jacket for his phone.
“I don’t think that’s mine,” Avery said, but she reached for her purse and pawed inside.
“It’s mine.” Sam flipped open the case. “Sam Carter.”
W. L. Crawford was on the other end, inviting him to breakfast and another morning of bird hunting. “Hey, I’d like that, W. L. Thanks. See you early, then.”
As soon as he closed the case, Avery reached up and turned on the overhead light, holding the certificate under it. “Take exit marker fifty-six and turn right at the light. The restaurant will be about two miles on the left.”
From the moment they entered the restaurant parking lot, followed by passing through the entrance, they could see why Tag Freeman’s was known not only for its good food,
but for its atmosphere as well. Country music bounced off the rafters. A mechanical bull twisted and bucked just off to the left of the entry. The whole thing felt and looked like a combination carnival and rodeo picnic.
The cowboy culture wasn’t new to Sam. From a small town and a family of farmers, he knew plenty of rodeo participants and fans both. He hadn’t left the culture behind when he moved to Boise, either. An outstanding professional rodeo, the Caldwell Night Rodeo, occurred just outside Boise. As a sports reporter at the Idaho Statesman, he had covered it. The CNR was where he had first seen Quint Matthews ride one of the meanest bulls on the circuit and win the championship. He felt right at home in Tag Freeman’s restaurant. He couldn’t tell how Avery felt.
The aroma of spicy broiling meat beckoned them. They made their way to the buffet and saw glistening chunks of barbecued beef, slabs of pork ribs, whole chickens and fat link sausages. They picked up trays and plates and silverware rolled into bright red cloth napkins. “Wow,” Sam said, gesturing for Avery to precede him. “I think I might need two plates.”
“It does look good, doesn’t it?” Avery moved along the buffet line. “I had a big breakfast, but I skipped lunch.”
If Sam were alone, he would choose the pork ribs, but with a woman he hardly knew, he wasn’t about to dive into something quite so messy. When Avery picked succulent-looking sliced brisket, he did, too.
They came to pots of simmering beans, steaming ears of corn and mountains of creamy-looking potato salad and cole slaw. Then there was the bread—half a dozen different kinds of rolls, plus thick wedges of corn bread. They selected sourdough rolls and picked up ice cold beer in frosty mugs to wash it all down.
Dessert was a choice of either Texas pecan cobbler or peach cobbler made from Parker County peaches. The commingled aromas made Sam’s mouth water.
“Oh, my gosh,” Avery said, laughing as she stared at the bowls of dessert. “Those look so good I could have one of each, but they must have two thousand calories each.”