Ebon Moon

  “It’s lovely,” Jessica replied. “How much is it a month?”

  “Two hundred and fifty.”

  “That’s pretty cheap for such a nice place.”

  “Well, it is off the highway and kind of isolated. It’s without a cable or satellite hookup, so no TV now that everything has gone digital. Some nights you might wake up with a cow mooing out your window.”

  “We talked over the phone about letting the security deposit go until I can pay it.

  “We did.” Nelda smiled. “You and you’re daughter don’t look like the type to tear the place up. I can let the security deposit slide until you can pay it later.”

  “Then I’ll take it.”

  “Great,” Nelda replied. “When do you plan to move in?”

  “We’re moved in now.

  “You don’t have any boxes or furniture to move?”

  “Nothing.” Jessica shrugged. “Just me and Megan.”

  A perplexed look crossed Nelda’s face. “Jess, can I ask a couple of questions first before I rent to you?”

  “Yes,” she replied, feeling nervous inside.

  “Are you hiding from someone? You’re husband, perhaps?” She looked down at her wedding ring.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Well …” Nelda hesitated and glanced out the front door where Megan played with Tig on the porch. “You and your daughter look like you’ve been through a prizefight judging from the bruises on her arm and the black eye you’re trying to hide with those sunglasses. I don’t want to pry, and I’m not one of those small-town biddies who like to spread gossip. I just need to know if there’s going to be a problem with your husband.”

  Jessica slid back her sunglasses. “Blake physically abused me. Unfortunately, Megan got in the way of one of his violent episodes and was hurt, too. That’s when I ran out on the bastard.” Tears filled her eyes. “I couldn’t let him hurt my daughter.”

  Nelda reached forward and hugged her tightly. The smell of fresh cooking permeated the woman’s hair. Jessica accepted the embrace with memories of being hugged by her mother after falling down and scraping her knee.

  “Poor girl,” Nelda said.

  Jessica wept in Nelda’s arms. The emotion she had held inside for the last three days released itself in wracking sobs.

  “Are you okay, Mommy?” Megan asked from the front porch.

  Jessica broke off from Nelda’s hold and swiped tears from her eyes. “I’m fine, baby.”

  Turning to a nearby cabinet, Nelda removed a box of Kleenex. “Here you go, girl.” She handed one to her.

  Jessica wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “I guess I needed a good cry.”

  Nelda chuckled. “We all do from time to time.”

  “Do we get to rent?”

  “Does your husband know you’re here?”

  “He doesn’t even know I’m in Oklahoma.”

  “So you’re from out of state?”

  “Chicago.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I’m not going to contact him or call him. He’s never going to find us. I just need a place to hide out until I get my feet back on the ground.”

  Nelda nodded. “Then you’re welcome here, Jess.”

  “Thank God. You don’t know how much this means to me.” Jessica reached into her jean pocket and removed the money she set aside to pay the rent. She counted out the amount into Nelda’s hand. “Two hundred and fifty dollars. I’ll get the deposit as soon as I can.”Amidst the bills, she found the white business card taken from the bulletin board at the post office. “Oh, and one more thing. Can you tell me where I can find this place?”

  Nelda took the money and read the card. “Roxie’s?”

  “Yes.”

  Nelda handed the card back. “You know the street light in Hope Springs?”

  Jessica nodded.

  “That’s Highway 133. Just turn left and head out of town for five miles. You won’t miss it.”

  “What kind of bar is it?”

  Nelda chuckled. “It’s the greatest place in the world if you like rednecks, beer bellies, and bad karaoke.”

  Jessica laughed. “That classy, huh?”

  “Sam and I used to go there occasionally on a Friday night. We stopped going about two years ago after the new owners bought the place.” Nelda studied her face for a second. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’ve bartended before. Since they need a waitress, I’m going to see if I can get a job and make some quick money.”

  “You won’t have any problem getting hired as pretty as you are.”

  “I hope.”

  “Here’s the key.” Nelda placed the trailer door key into her hand. “You and Megan can come over for supper tonight. I promise it’ll be as good a meal as you’ve ever had. Supper’s at six. I’ve got a pot roast cooking in the oven and the apple pie Sheriff Sutton passed on. If he only knew what he was missing.”

  Jessica chuckled. “We’ll be there.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Once settled into their new trailer home, Jessica loaded Megan into the Camaro and drove back to Hope Springs. At the traffic light, she turned left, taking Highway 133 out of the little town. The bank clock showed the time was a little after four in the afternoon.

  “Where are we going, Mommy?” Megan asked.

  “I have to see if I can find a job.” Jessica glanced sideways at her daughter. “Do you remember when I told you I had to find work and make money?”

  “Yes.” Megan nodded her head. “Are you going to dance there?”

  “No dancing, baby. I’m just going to wait on tables.”

  Highway 133 was a two-lane blacktop rising and falling over rolling hills. To either side of the road, fields created a quilt work of greens and browns broken only by the occasional farmhouse. Megan watched quietly out of the passenger window. A road sign announced the town of Morris lay seven miles ahead. Jessica switched on the radio, scanned through the channels, and settled on a country station out of Tulsa. In contrast to the blues and hip-hop she listened to in Chicago, the drawling vocals of George Strait seemed to fit for rural Oklahoma.

  “Mommy.” Megan sat straight up in her seat. “Look at all the signs.”

  The Camaro topped a hill. On the left side of the road lay a run-down farm of overgrown weeds. Alongside the fence bordering the highway stood dozens of handmade signs constructed of plywood mounted on poles. Jessica tried to read the painted words as she drove by. Some were biblical passages about the end-times; the others relayed the sign maker’s innocence in the murder of his wife. The bizarre scene was quite odd and out of place in the beautiful countryside. One sign in particular caught her eye. It gave a warning about blood and the Beast of Revelations coming in the night.

  “What do they say, Mommy?”

  “They are about the Bible, baby. Like your coloring book.”

  Two days ago, she had stopped in a convenience store in Missouri and picked up a coloring book and crayons for Megan. The book illustrated the story of Jesus from his birth to the crucifixion.

  “About baby Jesus?”

  “Yes.”

  Jessica glanced in her rearview mirror, watching the strange vista disappear from view. She couldn’t fathom what would drive a person to work so hard to warn the public with such rambling obscure messages.

  Two miles farther down Highway 133, she came upon a professional billboard advertising Roxie’s Roadhouse. A painting of a sexy black-haired woman holding two bottles of beer filled most of the advertisement. A red arrow below the woman’s breasts announced: “Turn Here for the Coldest Beer in the State.” Jessica slowed the Camaro and eased into a gravel parking lot surrounded by thick green trees and tall brush. At the far end sat a one-story fabricated building with a vinyl banner announcing karaoke and happy hour beer specials hanging above the front door. Only two vehicles occupied the parking lot.

  Jessica parked the Camaro. “We’re here.

  Megan leaned forward in her seat. “Is this where
you want to work, Mommy?”

  “Yes.” Jessica checked her look in the car mirror. The black eye still looked bad and she wouldn’t be able to wear her sunglasses in the dark bar. Please, God, let me get this job, she prayed silently. I need the money badly.

  “Can I go with you, Mommy?”

  “No, sweetie, this is a place for grown-ups only.” She took her daughter by the hand. “I want you to stay in the car and wait for Mommy.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Please, baby. Mommy will only be gone for a short time.” She reached into the backseat and pulled up the Bible coloring book and box of crayons. “You stay here and color another pretty picture of Jesus. Can you do that for me, sweetie?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Good girl.” Jessica leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m going to lock the car doors. You don’t open them for anybody but Mommy. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  While Megan colored in her book, Jessica slipped the .357 from under the seat into her purse without her daughter seeing. She exited the Camaro into the bright sunlight and used her key to lock both doors. She hated leaving her daughter alone. Too many times Megan had been left by herself, but it couldn’t be avoided this time. She didn’t know the bar or the type of people inside.

  Brushing back her blonde hair with her hands, Jessica walked toward the roadhouse. She took one last look back at Megan concentrating on her coloring before opening the front door. A nervous flutter rested in the bottom of her stomach. Her daughter looked so alone and vulnerable sitting in the passenger seat. She’ll be all right, Jessica told herself. It’s the middle of the afternoon and no one is about. I locked the car doors.

  Fighting back her fears, she stepped inside the bar.

  Her eyes needed a second to adjust to the dim light as she glanced around the interior to get her bearing. Round wooden tables and empty chairs filled the place. In one corner, a darkened karaoke stage bordered a hardwood dance floor scuffed by the heels of countless cowboy boots. A lit jukebox played a low country song in the other corner. The air smelled of cheap beer and stale cigarettes. Adorning every bare space on the walls, advertising posters promoted various brands of beer using beautiful half-dressed models.

  Directly across from the front door, two people chatted to themselves at the bar. They both looked up when she came in. One was a portly middle-aged man spread out on a bar stool. His thick shoulder-length steel-gray hair and equally gray mustache highlighted a wide tanned face. On the other side of the counter, a very pretty young woman leaned in to talk to the gray-haired man. She was near Jessica’s age with raven-black hair falling straight to the middle of her back. A tight black T-shirt and a pair of even tighter blue jean shorts hugged every curve of her lean body. Jessica guessed this was the sexy female represented on the billboard standing out by the highway.

  “Hi,” Jessica said, walking up to join them.

  The girl straightened up. “You need a beer?”

  “No.” Jessica placed the business card taken from the post office on the bar top. “I need a job.”

  The woman picked up the card. “You here for the waitress position?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hire her,” the gray-haired man said loudly. “Lord knows we can use another hottie working this place. The last girl you hired only had half her teeth.”

  “Hush, you old drunk!” the girl snapped over her shoulder. She turned back to Jessica. “That’s Uncle Johnny. Just ignore him. He sits here from open to close.” The girl extended her hand across the bar. Jessica noted the girl’s black-painted fingernails and the tattoo of a pentagram inked on the inside of her forearm. “I’m Roxie by the way. You can call me Rox, though. Most people do around here.”

  “Jessica, but you can call me Jess.” She took the hand and shook it. “Are you the owner?”

  “I share ownership with my brother, Collin.” She nodded toward an open door behind the bar serving area. “He’s in the back room stocking up beer.”

  “Is the waitress job still open?”

  “It is. Have you had any experience working in a bar, Jess?”

  “I tended bar in college,” she lied, but she didn’t want anyone to know her real bar experience came from stripping.

  Roxie’s gaze centered evenly on Jessica’s face. “That’s a nice shiner you’re sporting. Who gave it to you? Husband or boyfriend?”

  “Softball,” Jessica lied again. “Family reunion ball game last Sunday. I tried to catch a fly ball and missed.”

  “I know a girl who got her front teeth knocked out just like that,” Uncle Johnny spoke up.

  “Again with the teeth thing,” Roxie said. “Keep quiet, you old drunk. I’m trying to hold an employee interview.” Rolling her eyes, she continued, “You better get used to him if you’re going to work here. We try to run a nice place, Jess. Good times. Good beer. Most of the customers are local farm boys with a few bikers thrown into the mix. Crowd can get a bit rough sometimes, especially on nights with a full moon. That’s when all the crazies come out. If you think you can handle it, I could use a pretty girl like you waiting tables. I will still have to clear it with my brother. He makes final decisions on who gets hired.”

  “I can handle it.” Jessica’s stomach fluttered at the realization she might have gotten the job.

  “Hey, Collin,” Roxie called out. “Come out here. I got someone I want you to meet.”

  The door to the back room opened and a tall man stepped through. He had piercing dark eyes and shoulder-length black hair parted in the middle. Ruggedly handsome, in a tough biker-grunge rocker sort of way, the man stood a good head and shoulders over Jessica. The sleeveless blue jean vest he wore showed off well-defined muscles lined with various tribal tattoos in black ink running down his arms.

  “What?” he asked in a low voice.

  “This is Jess.” She nodded in her direction. “She wants a job.”

  The man’s dark gaze raked her up and down. A chill centered in the bottom of Jessica’s stomach. The man’s eyes reminded her of Blake.

  Before he could speak, the front door swung open, letting in a shaft of brilliant late-afternoon sun. Jessica turned. Sheriff Sutton entered holding Megan by the hand. The chill sitting in the bottom of Jessica’s stomach spread through the rest of her body.

  “Mommy,” Megan called out in her stressed voice.

  “I think this little girl belongs to you.” Sheriff Sutton let her daughter go, and she ran to her arms. “She was too scared to come inside.”

  “What’s wrong?” Jessica took Megan in her arms.

  “I got to go pee real bad.”

  Jessica sighed in relief while everyone in the bar chuckled.

  “Where’s the restroom?” Jessica asked with embarrassment reddening her face.

  “Over there.” Roxie pointed to the other end of the room.

  “Come with me.” Jessica led Megan to the restroom. Once inside, she shut the door behind them. “I thought I told you to stay in the car,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “I had to go pee.”

  “You should’ve told me before I left.” She undid the fly on Megan’s jeans and helped her up on the toilet.

  “Sorry.”

  “Didn’t I tell you not to open the car door for anyone but Mommy?”

  “The policeman showed up. He knocked on the window and I rolled it down. He was nice.”

  “What did he say to you?” Jessica asked. Low voices came from the occupants in the main room of the roadhouse, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  “He asked what I was doing by myself. I told him I had to go pee real bad.”

  “Next time you do what your Mommy tells you.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Wash your hands when you’re done.”

  Jessica exited the restroom. The voices grew quiet as she returned to the bar. Sheriff Sutton now stood to one side of Uncle Johnny. All eyes were on her.

  “Than
ks for rescuing Megan, Sheriff,” Jessica spoke.

  “No problem.” The man showed his perfect white smile. Jessica decided he was just too handsome for his own good.

  “How old is your daughter?” Roxie asked.

  “Five.”

  “She’s a doll.”

  “Thank you.”

  “About the job …” Roxie popped the business card against her painted nails. Jessica waited for the shoe to drop. They weren’t going to hire a battered single mother dragging around a five-year-old daughter. “I can handle waiting on the bar tonight and Thursday. Business is pretty slow during the week. You show up about five thirty Friday night and I’ll put you to work.”

  “Okay.”

  “You work the floor and I work behind the bar. You get paid five dollars an hour plus you keep your tips. I pay you out of the till each night. It’s easier then filling out employment forms and state tax papers. You show up. You work. Understand?”

  Jessica nodded.

  “One bit of advice. Wear something sexy. The more skin you show the more tips you make. You’re very attractive so I don’t think you’re going to have much of a problem in that area.”

  “I understand.”

  The restroom door opened, and Megan came into the room.

  “I washed my hands, Mommy.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Good girl.” Jessica drew her daughter to her.

  “One more thing,” Roxie said. “I need a phone number if I want you to fill in one night when I can’t make it.”

  “I just moved to Hope Springs. I don’t have a phone yet.”

  Sheriff Sutton stepped up. “Aren’t you staying at Sam and Nelda Olson’s trailer?”

  “Yes.” Jessica felt a tinge of worry. She didn’t want her address revealed to a room full of strangers.

  “Rox, you can get the Olson’s home phone out of the book. I’m sure Nelda will relay any message you want to give,” Sheriff Sutton stated.

  “Works for me.”

  “Friday night at five thirty then,” Jessica said while backing out of the bar toward the door. “I’ll be here. It was nice meeting everyone.”