Pretty Is As Pretty Does

by Gen Griffin

  “Actually Gracie, this whole mess is my fault. If I hadn't come to Possum Creek, Curtis wouldn't have come here either.”

  “You moved because Curtis tried to kill you,” Gracie reminded her.

  “I know. It would have been easier for everyone if I hadn't tried to save my own life. I thought I would be safe living in Possum Creek with my grandfather. Now Grover's dead, Addison's been shot and god only knows who else Curtis will hurt before this manhunt is over. Its a horrible, bloody mess and I'm willing to take responsibility for what has happened.” Trish looked straight into Jane May's bright blue eyes. “If you're going to blame someone, leave Gracie alone. You can go ahead and scream whatever nastiness you need to scream in my face if it will make your feel better.”

  “Your grandfather died?” The short woman sounded stunned. “Who was your grandfather?”

  “His name was Grover Shallowman,” Trish explained. “Curtis shot Addison and then came here and killed Grover, tried to kill me and then fled the hospital.”

  Jane May opened her mouth and then hesitated. “You're right. You never should have come to this town.”

  “Jane May, the girl was trying to save herself.” The short woman stepped in between Jane May and Trish. “She couldn't have known the situation would come to this. Addison was trying to protect her.”

  “She just admitted that she knew her ex was dangerous,” Jane May snapped. “She put Addison in a bad position.”

  “Addison is a grown man and an officer of the law,” the short woman said. “He can handle himself.”

  “Obviously not,” Jane May snapped. She pointed at the double doors that led back into the surgical suite. “My son could be dead before the end of the day. I deserve answers.”

  “You've gotten them,” Gracie argued. “Trish already told you everything that matters.”

  “I think she's lying, though god only knows why she's bothering. Most of the girls in Callahan County have slept with Addison at one point or another.”

  “Jane May!” Loretta was glaring at Gracie's mother. “The girl's grandfather was murdered last night. Don't you think she's been through enough without having to listen to your accusations?”

  “You seem to have a lot of sympathy for everyone except me.” Jane May adjusted her ponytail with one hand. “My son is in critical condition right now. For all we know, he might be dead. You don't have anything better to do than yell at me to mind my manners?”

  “You don't even like your son. I know what kind of a parent you've been to your children. You aren't going to get a drop of sympathy out of me. Why don't you go wait for the doctors somewhere else in this hospital?” The short woman held her hands up in the air. “Maybe you can find a more receptive audience for your 'poor, poor, pitiful me' act in the nurses break room or the cafeteria. No one here is buying it.”

  “Go to hell.” Jane May spun on one heel and stormed out of the waiting room just as Cal was walking back through the same door. Trish watched the doorway to see if David was going to come in after him, but Cal was alone. Her heart sunk in her chest.

  “Was the 'go to hell' for me or did one of y'all piss her off this time?” Cal asked as he shook water out of his short, dark hair.

  “It was me,” the short woman raised her hand. “I probably will go to hell for the things I said to her, especially since her son is laying on a surgical table, but I get so tired of listening to that hateful mouth of hers.”

  “She deserved it,” Gracie said. “Really.”

  “It was incredibly unchristian of me,” the short woman muttered. “I'll have to toss an extra tithe into the offering plate this week.”

  Cal rolled his eyes. “I don't think you can buy your way out of your sins, Momma.”

  “Its the gesture that counts,” Loretta Walker replied. She fluffed her short, curly hair with one hand and then pursed her lips. “And you do the same thing. Don't tell me you don't.”

  “I learned it from you.” Cal walked over to his mother and gave her a quick hug. Trish felt stupid for not realizing who the short woman was before now. Standing next to one another, there was no denying the family resemblance between Cal and his mother.

  “Where is David?” Gracie looked pointedly at Cal and then at the doorway behind him.

  Cal sighed. “You don't want to know.”

  “Try me.” Loretta cut into the conversation. “Where is he?”

  “He took off after Curtis,” Cal explained.

  “Curtis?”

  “My ex-husband,” Trish supplied.

  “He says he's going to put a stop to Curtis before he can hurt anyone else,” Cal acknowledged.

  “Lovely.” Loretta sighed as she sat down in one of the waiting room chairs. “David's playing the hero. Why am I not surprised?”

  “Because you know David.”

  “I'd normally say he should have left the situation for the cops to handle. Unfortunately, considering the sad state of our police department, I'm half-tempted to send you out after him, Calvin.”

  “You don't think Kerry and Ian are up to challenge?”

  “I don't think Kerry and Ian are up the challenge of fighting their way out of a wet paper bag,” Loretta clarified. “Ian's a nice boy but he's dumber than a pot of boiled rocks. And we won't even discuss Kerry.”

  “Kerry's an idiot.” Cal sat down in the seat next to his mother. Gracie immediately positioned herself in his lap. Cal tightened his grip around Gracie's waist and she cuddled into his chest, her long legs dangling down towards the floor.

  “Kerry is worse than an idiot. He's a malicious, conniving little twerp.” Trish sat back down in her own seat before her knees could give out. “God, I will never forgive myself if David gets hurt going after Curtis.

  “Trish, no. You can't blame yourself.” Gracie slid down off of Cal's lap and into the seat next to Trish. “You've done all the right things.”

  “My doing all the right things has gotten one person killed and landed your brother in the hospital.” Trish blinked back tears as she stood up.

  “Sweetheart, you can't blame yourself for anything that anyone else does,” Loretta spoke up calmly.

  “I should leave.” Trish buried her face in her own hands as tears began streaming down her cheeks. It was everything she could do not to sob.

  “Not a chance,” Cal sounded entirely too calm. “You're not going anywhere. David will kill me if you get hurt.”

  “He'll get over it,” Trish whispered through her tears. “He's barely known me for a week and I got his best friend shot. He probably never wants to see me again as long as he lives.”

  “David loves-.” Gracie stopped speaking as the door between the surgery unit and the waiting room opened.

  A tall doctor in slightly blood scrubs stepped into the room. He scanned the crowd for a moment before his eyes settled on Gracie and Cal. “Are you the family?”

  “Yes,” Gracie jumped up and hurried towards the doctor with Cal on her heels. “Is my brother going to be okay?”

  “Well-.” The doctor's voice sounded like gravel being rolled down a pane of glass.

  “Just tell us, Doc.”

  “He got lucky,” the doctor said. “He was shot with a small caliber round that went through the meat just to the inside of his shoulder. He did lose a lot of blood but he got to the hospital in time.”

  “He's going to be okay?” Gracie's words were barely louder than a whisper. Her beautiful face had gone whiter than ash but her color was beginning to return.

  “He may have some trouble out of his shoulder long-term but otherwise I expect a full recovery.” He pulled his face mask off to reveal a small, tired smile. “He's young, strong and healthy. Barring any other major disasters, he should be fine.”

  “Oh thank god,” Loretta said.

  Gracie impulsively hugged the doctor and Trish felt a huge burst of relief rush through her. Addison was going to be fine.

  Chapter 3

  “I went all the way through tow
n, but no one remembers seeing Addy's truck come through here in the last couple of hours.” Ian's voice cracked through Deputy Kerry Longwood's police issue radio. “I'm going to head out towards the south side of town. There are a lot of fish camps down by the bayou. Maybe he's holed up in one.”

  “You go do that,” Kerry said. “I'm going to stay up here by the interstate. I still think the first thing this guy is going to do is try to get out of town.”

  “Ten-four. I'm out.”

  Kerry didn't bother responding. He hung his microphone back on the dash. Let Ian spend the rest of the day slogging through every stinking, flooded mud pit in Callahan County. Kerry wasn't doing it. He'd just gotten a new cruiser from the sheriff's department. He fully planned on keeping this car just as nice and clean as it had been when he'd picked it up from the county yard two days ago.

  Kerry knew he should feel bad about Addison getting shot, but he really couldn't work up any sympathy for his fellow officer. Addison Malone had done nothing but make Kerry's life hell for the last year. The Callahan County Sheriff's Department would be a much better place to work once Addison was six feet underground.

  Callahan County would be a better place without Addy. Especially considering that Addison had spent the last year doing everything in his power to stop Kerry from bringing a murderer to justice. David Breedlove was still loose on the streets because Addison used the power of his position in county law enforcement to protect his murdering buddy.

  If Addison was dead, it was only a matter of time before Kerry could take down David Breedlove for Casey's murder. The thought was enough to make Kerry smile for the first time all day. He turned his cruiser onto a slightly flooded side-street and wondered how much overtime he'd be racking up during the search for Addison's killer. The overtime was going to be nice on his next paycheck.

  Kerry pulled up the edge of a large and suspiciously deep looking puddle in the middle of the road. He put the cruiser in reverse and backed all the way out of the side street. He wasn't about to risk submerging his cruiser in the the middle of one of the worst storms Callahan County had seen in several years. Especially not since David owned the only tow truck in the county.

  Kerry turned the cruiser around in the intersection. He drove it into the median beside the interstate on ramp and cut the engine. If Addison's truck came by here, he'd go after it. Otherwise, Kerry wasn't going to do any more to solve Addison's murder than Addison had done to solve Casey's.

  Sometimes karma really was a bitch.

  Chapter 4

  David was running low on hope and high on exhaustion as he pulled into the driveway of yet another empty fish camp. The red clay driveway showed no sign of recent tire tracks but he got out of the wet, mud-caked Chevy and jogged up to the door anyway. The old porch creaked under his feet. The wood felt soft and David briefly wondered what would happen if he fell through the deck and broke his leg. He pounded on the front door and the slightly rotten door frame gave under his fist. The door popped open to reveal outdated orange shag carpeting and a whole lot of dust.

  The sound of a vehicle with a large engine pulling up behind Cal's Chevy made him turn around. For a split second he thought the approaching vehicle was Addison's missing gray Ford, but the rain let up for half a second and revealed the new truck was a couple of years too old and more silver than it was gray.

  David sighed and closed the door on the fish camp. He didn't even bother trying to conceal the rifle he was carrying slung over his shoulder as he headed back to the Chevy.

  The window of the newly arrived vehicle rolled down. “Man, what the hell do you think you're doing out here?”

  “You don't really want to know.” David brushed his soaking wet hair off his forehead as he recognized Mason Slaughter.

  “Well, if you're going to rob the place, do me a favor and burn it to the ground. We've got insurance on it but only for real property damage. Not that there's anything in here worth stealing.”

  “You ain't seen Addison's truck anywhere around here, have you?” David walked over to the window of the Ford and leaned against the side of the truck. Cold rain water had soaked all the way through his t-shirt and jeans.

  “Not around here.” Mason rubbed his goatee. He'd been in the same grade as Addison during school. David had known Mason for most of his life. They'd never exactly been friends but they weren't enemies either. “He don't bother coming down here much. All the tourists and the idiots like to launch their boats a whole lot closer to the lake. Ain't much out on this side of the bayou except for a few stubborn old codgers, my place and the gators.”

  “When you say 'not around here', does that mean you saw the truck somewhere else?” David pressed the issue.

  “Dude, you look like shit. What's going on?”

  “I need to find Addy's truck.”

  “And you were looking for it inside my dad's old fish camp?” Mason eyed David doubtfully.

  “I was looking for the guy who took it inside your dad's old fish camp,” David clarified. “There are a thousand places to hide in the swamp and I'm going to turn each and every one of them inside out until I hunt down that bastard.” He practically spit the last few words at Mason.

  Mason let out a low whistle. “You're pissed as hell. What happened? Addy's truck get stolen?”

  “Yeah.” David nodded. “I need to find it.”

  “You know the county insures all their vehicles, right?”

  “I don't give two flying fucks about the truck. I'm going to kill the motherfucker who took it.”

  “Woah. Whoa. Come on on, Breedlove. I know you've got a hot temper but do you really think that truck is worth going to prison over?” Mason was watching David carefully. “You okay?”

  “I'm fine,” he lied.

  “You don't look okay. Your clothes are soaked through. You're covered in goosebumps and carrying an assault rifle. I'm a little concerned right now, David. You want to tell me what's going on?”

  David opened his mouth but the words just wouldn't come out. “I-. Last night-. I don't. I don't even know.”

  “David?”

  “It's Addy,” David choked on his best friend's name. “Bastard shot Addy and stole his truck.”

  “Someone shot Addison?” Mason's jaw dropped in surprise.

  David nodded.

  “You know who did it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sheriff Chasson know who did it?” Mason asked.

  “Frank knows. He's at the hospital. He's been there since it happened. We don't know-. We don't know if Addison is going to make it.”

  “Holy shit,” Mason cursed. “It's bad then?”

  David's head bobbed.

  “Did Frank call the motor pool yet?” Mason asked.

  “What?” David blinked.

  “Do you know if Frank's called the county motor pool and reported that truck stolen yet?”

  David belatedly remembered that Mason was some kind of supervisor for the county. “I have no idea. I doubt it. I mean, no one is that worried about the accounting side of this right now. The truck may be a total loss, but who cares?”

  “I'm not talking about reporting the truck as a loss,” Mason waved his hand at David. “That truck has a GPS tracker on it. Every county owned vehicle does.”

  “What?” David was too preoccupied to fully appreciate what Mason was telling him.

  “Addison's truck has a GPS tracker on it. Unless you've removed it, that is?” Mason tilted his head at David questioningly.

  David shook his head no. “I've never seen a tracker on that truck. Are you sure it has one?”

  “You ever take the dashboard completely apart?”

  “On the Ford?” David had to think for a moment before he could answer the question. “No. I haven't pulled the dash.”

  Mason half-way smiled. “We hid it on purpose. Figured Malone would have you rip the tracker out by its wires if he knew that we had a way of knowing every move he makes, on or off duty.”


  “He'd be pissed,” David acknowledged.

  “Its county policy to equip all vehicles with a tracker. Frank Chasson knows that. If he never told Addy, well, it's going to work in our favor this time.” Mason shrugged casually. “You want to keep driving to every fish camp in the county and knocking on the door, or do you want to find that truck the smart way?”

  “Where do we need to go to track the GPS?” David asked.

  “The office at the county motor pool. If you want, you can follow me there?”

  “Let's go.” David felt the slightest flicker of hope as he jogged back to the Chevy and got into the driver's seat.

  Chapter 5

  Trish cast a glance back over her shoulder to make sure no one was following her as she slipped out the side door of the hospital and into the softly falling rain. The storm had let up slightly, but the dark clouds that were rumbling in the distance let her know she wasn't in for much of a reprieve. The only concession she'd made for the rain was to cover her cast in a garbage bag she'd gotten from the hospital janitor. She didn't care if her clothes got wet. Her hair had gone to hell hours ago.

  The dented black Ford truck that her grandfather had given her was waiting just where she had left it. It seemed like she'd parked it on the back side of the parking lot a lifetime ago. In reality, the truck had been sitting for less than 24 hours. Without meaning to, she scanned the parking lot for another familiar vehicle. The gold Lexus that she'd only been allowed to drive a grand total of twice during her ill-fated marriage was nowhere to be seen. It took her a minute to remember that Curtis didn't have the Lexus now. He had stolen Addison's truck when he'd shot him. Trish fought back tears as she crossed the parking lot.

  She hadn't locked the doors on the truck so she didn't have to unlock them as she reached the vehicle. Trish yanked the driver's door open and climbed inside. She started to crank the engine but realized that she didn't have the slightest idea where to go from here. She'd moved to Possum Creek so she could help care for her dying grandfather. Now he was dead before his time thanks to her insane ex-husband's lack of respect for human life.