Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows

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Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows Page 23

by David O. Dyer, Sr.


  She gently touched his face, first with one hand and then both. “You have such a dark tan I see nothing but a perfect face."

  “I'll see you tonight about eight,” he said.

  “Frank."

  “Yes."

  “I ... I'm not on the pill. You'll need to bring, uh, something."

  He gently held her head with both of his hands and drew her close to his lips across the counter. “June,” he said quietly, “one day I'm going to teach you the joys of being a woman, but not until you change your name.” He nibbled on her lower lip.

  She felt weak and propped her hands on the counter for support. “I don't understand,” she said.

  “Mrs. Frank Skinner,” he explained. He kissed her tenderly on the lips, nose and forehead. “Tonight we'll just enjoy each other's company and start getting acquainted.”

  * * * *

  Greta eased her aching body out of the Whirl Pool and began dabbing at her bruised body with a soft bath towel. He said he wouldn't do it no more, she thought, but I don't believe him. There will be a next time, and it's coming up Monday night. Maggie ain't gonna screw him and I ain't gonna kill Sewana.

  She reached for a bathrobe, but changed her mind. I hated it when he made me go naked, but now that it's okay to put on clothes, I can't ‘cause it hurts too much. He's gonna kill me unless I can figure something out.

  She went to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. She dropped four Alka-Seltzer Plus tablets into the glass and watched the bubbles form. Maybe I ought to kill him, she thought and then she laughed dryly. Hell, I can't even squash a roach. Maybe somehow he'll be killed at work today, or have a wreck on the way home.

  She gulped down the lemon-flavored medicine and painfully descended the basement steps. She entered the torture chamber, snapped on the light and gazed at the scene that met her eyes. She saw the air pistol hanging on the pegboard and remembered the night he used her nipples as a target. “He's gonna kill me one of these days,” she mumbled. “He's crazy. Sometimes he gets so angry he don't realize what he's doing."

  She touched the sharp edge of the horse and shuddered. She looked at the chains suspended from the ceiling and pictured herself shackled to the instrument of torture. I ought to take the Dollars up on their offer to live with them, she thought, but they can't protect me from him. Hell, Sandra Dollar is as good as dead just like I am. Sewana too. Ain't nobody gonna stop him, unless...

  As fast as her rebelling muscles would allow she went back upstairs and entered the spare room. “Miz Jenkins, where are you?” she cried out. “I need you."

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Good Lord, Greta. What happened to you?” Sandra said as she entered the kitchen on Friday morning. “I thought you were out sick with a cold."

  Greta shook her head.

  “Did Eddie do this to you?” Sandra asked as she traced with her index finger the dark pigmentation under Greta's left eye.

  “He didn't mean to. At least, that's what he says. He was fired from the Korner Kafe and took it out on me when he came home."

  “Greta, you must move out. That bastard is going to kill you one of these days."

  “He says he won't do it again."

  “How many times have you heard that?"

  “He might mean it this time. He treated me real nice the last couple of days—brought me breakfast in bed and stuff."

  “Good morning, ladies,” Tim said as he came up behind them. “Is there any coffee left?"

  Greta turned towards him and replied, “I just made a fresh pot."

  “My God, Greta!” Tim exclaimed when he saw her face.

  “Eddie's work,” Sandra explained.

  “He was upset, Tim. Mr. Bennett fired him. Eddie got another job at the concession stand at the golf course, but he was still angry about getting fired when he came home and I said something that pissed him off."

  “That bastard is now working for us?” Sandra asked.

  Tim wagged his head and poured a cup of coffee. “We need to talk, Greta.” He headed for the breakfast room and the ladies followed.

  “Greta,” Tim continued when they were all seated in the restaurant-style booth, “what do you know about Eddie Crow before you met him in Fayetteville?"

  “He don't talk about his past very much,” she replied. “All I know is that he got me out of a big mess and if I don't keep him happy he'll send me to jail."

  Sandra placed her hand on Greta's. “You did not kill anyone in Fayetteville."

  “What?"

  Tim cleared his throat. “I hired a private detective. The soldier you bashed with a rock did not die. In fact, he refused to press charges against you. Eddie has been lying to you all these years."

  Greta glanced first at Sandra and then at Tim. “I don't know what to say. Are you sure?"

  Tim nodded. “Listen very carefully to me, Greta. We have reason to believe Eddie may have been the one who killed Bobby and Adele Elliott."

  “No,” Greta cried.

  Sandra tightened her grip on Greta's hand. “Greta, we think you know that Eddie is the murderer. If you do, that makes you an accessory after the fact. That simply means that in the eyes of the law you are just as guilty of murder as Eddie is."

  “No,” Greta exclaimed. “I thought I killed that soldier in Fayetteville, but I didn't have nothing to do with those other deaths.” She jerked her hand free from Sandra's grasp and clutched her hands against her chest. Miz Jenkins, help me, she silently prayed.

  “We're not saying you actually killed them yourself, or even helped Eddie do it, but we do think you know that Eddie did it. By not turning him in, the law says you are as guilty as he is."

  “Eddie didn't do it, and if he did I didn't know it. Why would Eddie want to kill anybody in Dot? We just moved here a few months ago."

  Tim nodded his agreement as Sandra continued. “Greta, calm down and listen; listen very carefully. We think Eddie Crow's real name is John Baxter who was once the pastor of the Dot Baptist Church. Something happened to Baxter while he was here that ruined his life. Bobby and Adele were somehow a part of it. Damn it. I was a part of it. We think Baxter came back disguised as Eddie Crow to seek revenge."

  “Maybe. I don't know.” Tears flowed from Greta's bloodshot eyes. They know, she thought. Damn, they know. She burst into tears. “I just know I didn't have nothing to do with it."

  Tim pressed the terrified woman. “When the police get sufficient evidence and arrest Eddie, he'll implicate you. You know he will. However, if you go to the police now and help them with the investigation, they'll go light on you. You might even get a suspended sentence."

  “I didn't do nothing. Eddie didn't do nothing. What am I going to do?"

  “Greta, Eddie is insane,” Tim said. “I think you know that. He's going to kill you one of these days. You need to get away from him and this is your chance. Tell the truth, Greta. Put Eddie behind bars where he belongs."

  “We'll help you, Greta, but you must level with us,” Sandra urged.

  “Did you know,” Tim asked, “that there is a large reward for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the Elliott's murderer?"

  “No, sir,” Greta replied as her heart pounded. Holy shit, Miz Jenkins, she thought. Should I tell them? Can I trust them?

  “Why did you want to videotape the three of us having sex, Greta?” Tim asked.

  “What?"

  “You heard me."

  “What does that have to do with..."

  “Just answer Tim's question,” Sandra urged.

  “I already told you,” Greta said. “I thought it would be sexy to watch the tape."

  “Then let's go watch it right now,” Sandra said and Tim raised his eyebrows questioningly. “The tape is still in the camcorder."

  Greta broke into sobs. “No it ain't,” she said. “Eddie didn't kill nobody, but when I got this job with you he came up with a plan for me to get Mr. Dollar in bed and videotape it. Sandy, when you showed interest, Eddie got
real excited. He said we could get some big money out of you in exchange for a juicy tape. I just did what he told me. I went back to the bedroom after we finished taping our sex games, took out the cassette and put in a blank one. That's what Eddie told me to do."

  Tim slammed his fist against the table. “Damn,” he said. “Eddie has the tape now?"

  “No, sir, he don't.” Greta dug into her skirt pocket and placed the tape on the table. “He was so mad after getting fired he forgot to ask about the tape. After he beat me he did ask, but I was mad at him and lied. I told him we hadn't made no tape yet."

  “Thank you for that,” Sandra said.

  “We owe you for that,” Tim added, “but you have to be honest with us. You know Eddie killed the Elliotts. We'll go with you to the police and we'll hire you the best lawyer available."

  “I didn't kill nobody,” Greta insisted, “and if Eddie done it I don't know nothing about it.” I can't tell them, Miz Jenkins. I just can't.

  * * * *

  Leora smiled as she finished reading the last page of her manuscript. All the history books I ever read were dull and boring, she said to herself, but not this one. It's a page-turner if I do say so myself. She carefully stacked the three hundred paged double-spaced manuscript and reverently placed it in a box she saved for this purpose. As she slid in place the lid to the box, she smiled. I think I'll take it to the publisher right now and reward myself with a country style steak lunch at Dot's Diner.

  She checked her appearance in the bedroom mirror and frowned as the phone rang. “Hello,” she said irritably.

  “Well, good morning Sunshine,” Borders replied. “Who spoiled your day?"

  “I'm sorry honey. I wasn't expecting you to call. I thought it was one of those infernal telemarketers. I was on my way out the door to take my book to the publisher when you called. What's up?"

  “You may want to add another chapter to your book, Leora. The final chapter on Preacher John Baxter."

  “The fingerprints matched?” she asked excitedly.

  “Sure did,” Borders said smugly. “We got a full set of prints off the Pepsi can and they matched John Baxter's prints just as I suspected."

  “You suspected,” she said. “Julius Borders, you know good and well I was the one who first suspected Crow and Baxter were one and the same."

  “Yes you did, Pet. I can't take that away from you, but I'm the one who provided the proof."

  “I'm proud of you, honey, but right now all we have is a curious mystery. We know John Baxter came back to Dot as Eddie Crow, but we don't know why. We think he murdered Bobby and Adele, but we still have no proof or motive."

  “We just have to find that missing slug,” Borders said. “The boys are going to take another look on Monday."

  * * * *

  Greta and Maggie, as usual, sat on the patio eating lunch together. “It's a beautiful day,” Maggie sighed.

  “Awfully hot,” Greta observed. “You're just drenched with sweat."

  “I know, and I probably stink. I've been chopping wood for the winter."

  “I don't know why you are working so hard since this is your last day."

  “I always give an honest day's work for an honest day's pay, and there's so much to show Frank."

  Greta laughed. “There was nobody to show you when you took the job and you made out okay."

  “Yeah,” Maggie said facetiously, “but you know men are slow to catch on to things."

  “Is Dottie okay now?"

  “I'm sure she still has some pain, but she's back at work."

  “When do you start working for Mr. Bennett again?"

  “Monday."

  “What? No. You can't."

  A curious grin emerged on Maggie's face. “What do you mean I can't?"

  “Oh, Maggie. I don't know how to say this. I need you to have sex with Eddie on Monday."

  Maggie's mouth dropped open. “Say what?"

  Greta reached for Maggie's hand. “He ... he asked me to set it up with you. Maggie, he's being so nice to me and I really don't mind."

  “There's no way I am going to screw that hairy ape,” Maggie said indignantly.

  Greta squeezed Maggie's hand. “Maggie, you turn him on and he thinks he turns you on too. He told me about the other morning."

  “I don't know what he told you, but I'm not going to have sex with your husband."

  “He said you admitted he turned you on."

  “Oh, God,” Maggie sighed. “I said something very foolish that morning, Greta, and I'm sorry. He was standing there naked and playing with himself. Hairy men have always turned me on and he has the biggest penis I've ever seen. At that moment, I did want him. I admit that. But I told him it will never happen."

  “He could have forced you that morning."

  “Maybe, but he also could have wound up with the family jewels crushed."

  “The point is, Maggie, he didn't rape you. He wants to do it right, and I don't mind."

  “Well I do mind. He'll never dip his spoon in my bowl of honey."

  “Think about it, please. Eddie's going through a bad time right now. He wants this bad and I'm afraid if he don't get it, he'll take it out on me."

  “There's nothing to think about."

  Greta shrugged her shoulders and leaned back in the chair. “What time do you go to work Monday?"

  “Five in the morning,” Maggie laughed. “We'll get through the breakfast rush and then George, Dottie and I will get together and work out the details of the new agreement."

  “Dottie? What does she have to do with it?"

  Maggie smiled. “I thought I told you. After appearing to be mortal enemies for the past few months, the truth has come out. They're sweet on each other. They're merging their business interests and I am going to manage the two restaurants."

  “That's wonderful. I just never thought of them as a couple."

  “Neither has anyone else,” Maggie laughed. “There's going to be a lot of shocked people in Dot when they see Dottie and George holding hands in public."

  “What time does Sewana go to work Monday?"

  “She's off on Mondays and Tuesdays,” Maggie replied. “Why do you ask?"

  “No reason,” Greta said. “I was just wondering. I guess you have to be quiet when you get up so as not to wake her."

  Maggie shook her head and smiled broadly. “That woman sleeps like a log. It takes three alarm clocks to wake her."

  Greta used her napkin to wipe crumbs off the table and into her hand. She dumped the crumbs into her empty plate.

  “Greta,” Maggie asked, “is there something wrong? Your hand is shaking like a leaf."

  “Ain't much that's right, Maggie. Sometimes I wish I was dead."

  “Greta, I'm your friend. Tell me about it. I'll help any way I can."

  “No you won't,” Greta replied. “You won't fuck Eddie for me."

  Maggie reached for Greta's hand, but Greta pulled away. “I can't do that, Greta."

  “You done told me that. He's gonna hurt me, Maggie. He's gonna hurt me bad when I tell him."

  “Okay, how about this? You tell Eddie about me changing jobs and that I have to work Monday."

  “Then what?"

  “Maybe he'll drop it."

  “No way. And there's something else he wants me to do Monday."

  “Can I help with that?"

  She shook her head. “Can't nobody help me with that, unless..."

  “Unless what, Greta?"

  “Since you're gonna be the manager of the restaurant again, could you see to it that Sewana has to work Monday too?"

  “What does that have to do with anything?"

  “I can't tell you, Maggie."

  Maggie stood up and slid her chair under the table. “Sewana is moving into a furnished apartment in the Dollar Building, Monday. It would be heartless for me to make her change her plans."

  “I didn't know that."

  “If it will help, you can tell Eddie Sewana will be working Monda
y. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

  “Thanks, Maggie. Maybe that'll work, but it would be my luck for Eddie to find out I'm lying."

  “Is Sewana in some kind of trouble?"

  “Eddie's pissed with her. He's real pissed. She got him fired, you know."

  Greta cleared the table and Maggie went back to work.

  Miz Jenkins, Greta thought as she imagined the apparition at her side, Maggie ain't gonna screw Eddie Monday and if I don't kill Sewana, Eddie will sure as hell kill me. It ain't gonna make no difference to Eddie when I tell him they both have to work. He's still gonna be angry and he'll take it out on me. What am I gonna do, Miz Jenkins? What am I gonna do?

  * * * *

  Frank Skinner turned off the lights of his pickup truck after turning into Maggie's driveway and parked as quietly as possible. He tiptoed up the front porch steps, slipped his key in the lock and gently pushed the door open. Carefully he groped his way across the living room, found the table lamp and snapped it on. He paused to listen at Maggie's bedroom door and smiled when he heard nothing.

  As quietly as possible he turned the sofa into a bed and stripped off his shirt. He sat on a chair and removed one shoe. His heart jumped as the room flooded with light.

  “You're home early tonight,” Maggie said with a smile.

  Her magnificent breasts were clearly visible through the thin cotton nightshirt she wore and he silently castigated himself for looking at his sister's beautiful body as if she were his lover. “One thirty,” he said quietly. “I tried not to wake you."

  “You don't have to whisper. There's no way we will wake Sewana. So, how'd it go?"

  “You're my sister, not my mamma,” he said.

  “Did you bag her tonight?"

  He pulled off the second shoe. “Didn't try. I told you. She's a virgin and I'm not going to have sex with her until we're married."

  “So what does she think of all this?"

  “She doesn't have much experience, Maggie. At this point I don't think she knows what to think."

  “Frank, do you really love her? You've known her for only a few days."

  “I loved her the instant I first saw her. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before."

 

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