Thirty-Three and a Half Shenanigans

by Denise Grover Swank

  “Aw . . .” she gushed. “You two are so cute.”

  A smile spread across my face.

  “Do you really think you’re done with Skeeter?”

  “If I was him, I wouldn’t trust the girlfriend of the Assistant DA. I just hope he won’t go after Mason.”

  “I suspect Mason’s right. Skeeter’s a pretty smart guy, and it would look suspicious if something happened to the Assistant DA right after he got his big promo in the world of crime.” She put her fork down. “Speakin’ of questionable characters, I’ve got a favor to ask you.”

  My eyebrows rose in surprise. “What is it?”

  “You know how I was telling you about my missing cousin?”

  “Dolly Parton?”

  “Yeah.” She shifted on the seat. “She still hasn’t called my aunt, so she asked me to go out to her boyfriend Billy Jack’s trailer to check on her.”

  I frowned. “So what’s the favor?”

  “I was hopin’ you’d take me. My car’s been acting up, and her boyfriend lives down by Pickle Junction. I’m afraid I’ll break down. Do you have time?”

  I looked at the gourmet mess on my desk. “Sure. I’m supposed to meet Joe at two at the nursery.” I glanced up at the clock. “That’s plenty of time to drive down to the Pickle Junction area and come back.”

  Neely Kate threw her arms around me and pulled me into a hug. “You’re the best.”

  Something was up. “Why are you gettin’ so excited over this?”

  She gave me a perturbed look. “Because my aunt keeps calling, and she’s gonna get me into trouble at work.”

  “So why don’t you turn your phone to silent?”

  “And miss her calls? I’d get into even more trouble. I snuck away early and figured I could take a long lunch break so we could drive down there, find her in his trailer while they’re on some love fest, and tell her to call her momma.”

  I hopped up and grabbed my coat. I suspected there was more to this story than she was telling me, but if it got me out of eating tofu chipotle burgers, I was game.

  As I headed for the door, she called after me. “Wait! You didn’t try the peppermint Brussels sprouts muffins!”

  I hurried out the door, pretending I didn’t hear her.

  Chapter Six

  “So why doesn’t your aunt go out to Billy Jack’s herself to see if Dolly Parton is out there?” We were almost to Pickle Junction, and I couldn’t help thinking we were about to hop into a hornet’s nest.

  “Well . . . she can’t on account of the squirrel jerky incident.” Neely Kate tried to hide her cringe, but she wasn’t fooling me.

  I blinked. “Do I want to know about the squirrel jerky incident?”

  “No.” She pointed up ahead. “See that mailbox shaped like an armadillo? Turn there.”

  I slowed down and cast a suspicious glance at her. “Why did you really invite me along on this mission?”

  “I already told you.”

  The road next to the battered metal armadillo had seen better days, but it was less beat up than the faded metal box. The once-red paint had faded to a pale pink, and someone had tried to attach what looked like plastic tusks to its face. There were two dents on its back—one on the front and the other on the back—that made the raised middle part look like a camel’s hump.

  “What in tarnation happened to that armadillo?” I asked as I turned down the dirt lane pocked with patches of gravel.

  “Billy Jack’s a big Arkansas Razorback fan. Rumor has it that he was drunk enough to think it was a razorback one night. He got pretty ticked off when he found out his mistake, which explains the dents in its back. He fixed it in another drunken stupor.”

  “I take it Billy Jack gets drunk a lot?”

  “Define a lot . . .”

  I slammed on the brakes, which didn’t exactly have the effect I was going for, since we were only traveling ten miles per hour. “Neely Kate, what exactly are you draggin’ me into?”

  Her face scrunched in indignation. “Nothing! We’re checking on my cousin. It’s perfectly harmless.” She gave a half shrug. “Probably.”

  I reached for my phone. “I’m calling Joe.”

  “No!” she shouted, grabbing my phone out of my hand and holding it out of my reach. “Don’t! Billy Jack hates the sheriff’s department. We’ll never find her if you do that.”

  “Neely Kate, if you think she’s in actual danger, let Joe come check on her. He’s better equipped to deal with something like this than we are.”

  Before I could register what she was doing, Neely Kate opened the passenger door and hopped out, taking my phone with her and leaving the door gaping wide open.

  I opened my own door. “Neely Kate! Come back here.”

  “You can wait there if you want,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “I’m gonna kill you, pregnant or not,” I grumbled as I climbed down and started after her.

  She’d already disappeared around a bend in the road, and when I found her, she was standing in front of a rusted trailer surrounded by rusted cars, a pile of assorted home furnishings, and knee-deep weeds. A giant “Keep Out” sign, written in spray paint, was nailed to a tilting post.

  “Your cousin lives here?” I couldn’t imagine anyone willingly living in those conditions.

  “No. But she’s spent a lot of time here with Billy Jack. The last time Aunt Thelma heard from her, Dolly was hanging out here.”

  I was glad she hadn’t made a move toward the front door. I had a sneaking suspicion that Billy Jack’s sign wasn’t just for show. “Is her boyfriend violent?”

  “Not usually.”

  “Tell me again why we can’t call Joe?” I hissed.

  “Because Joe won’t give two figs.”

  My eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  She turned toward me, disgust painted all over her face. “I didn’t just ask you not to call him on account of Billy Jack. My aunt called the sheriff’s department last night to file a missing persons report. They won’t do anything.”

  “Why not?”

  “They say she has a history of taking off. Aunt Thelma tried to tell them that it’s different this time, that she’s never disappeared for three days before, but they wouldn’t listen. So it’s up to me to find her.”

  “Neely Kate,” I groaned. “Why didn’t you just tell me? I would have helped you.”

  “After the whole thing with the bank robbers and Skeeter . . .” She gave me an apologetic smile. “Well, you got so deep last time that I wasn’t sure you’d be open to it.”

  “We’re best friends, Neely Kate. Where you go, I go.”

  “Thank you.” She gave me a quick hug. “Now all you need to do is stay back on the other side of the road. I’ll go knock on the door to see if she’s here.”

  “If you think I’m gonna do that, you’re as crazy as Billy Jack on a bender.” I looped my arm through hers. “Though I suspect your story about your car breaking down was a crock of crap, and you want me here for more than a getaway driver.”

  She squeezed my arm. “You’re the best friend a girl could ever hope to have.”

  “I’m gonna wait until we’re on our way home to decide if I’m gonna return the sentiment.” I winked. “So what’s your plan?”

  “Billy Jack and I have never had bad blood, so I’m not worried about him. As long as he’s semi-sober.”

  “And if he’s drunk as a skunk?”

  “Run.”

  I supposed it was as good of a plan as any, given the circumstances. “At least he doesn’t have any dogs,” I muttered as we followed the trampled path to the trailer through a forest of weeds.

  “Oh, he does. They’re just in the house.”

  So much for that pipe dream. I glanced around. “Do you see your cousin’s car anywhere?”

  She frowned. “No. But that doesn’t mean anything. I think it got repossessed.”

  “But you don’t know?”
>
  “No. I was hoping Billy Jack could tell us.”

  We stopped on the six-foot-by-six-foot porch, which appeared fairly new and was covered by a roof. The whole structure was in better shape than the rest of the trailer combined, even though empty beer cans had been shoved into a corner.

  Neely Kate knocked on the front door and stood back, ready to make a getaway if necessary.

  A bunch of yipping broke loose inside, and I cast a sideways glance at her while still trying to watch the door. “What is that?”

  “Billy Jack’s dogs. He breeds Chihuahuas.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Her nose scrunched up. “Why would I be kidding?”

  The door started to open, and I tensed as a guy’s face poked around the corner. “Whaddaya want?”

  My best friend lifted her chin. “Billy Jack? It’s Neely Kate, Dolly Parton’s cousin.”

  The door opened wider, and five white Chihuahuas rushed out the crack and started jumping up on our legs.

  He stood in the space, wearing a white wife-beater T-shirt and a pair of jeans, holding a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon in his hand. Several days’ growth of beard covered his face, and his eyes were bloodshot. “Whaddaya want?” he repeated.

  “I want to talk to Dolly. Where is she?”

  One of the Chihuahuas pressed against my leg and started humping. Horrified, I gave my leg a tiny shake, but he just wrapped his front legs around my shin. The other four ran around Neely Kate and me like Indians circling a wagon train in an old Western.

  Billy Jack looked at Neely Kate as though she was a horde of ants eating his chocolate cake. “How would I know where she is?”

  Anger filled Neely Kate’s voice. “Because the last time anyone talked to her was when she was with you.”

  The dog on my leg was still going to town, so I gave a harder shake, but he hung on for dear life.

  He laughed, but it was a humorless sound. “Well, she ain’t here.”

  She moved to the door. “Then you won’t mind me comin’ in and lookin’ around.” She shoved it open with the palm of her hand, and Billy Jack stumbled out of the way.

  I stomped my foot hard, finally managing to dislodge the dog before I hurried inside after Neely Kate.

  “Well come on in, then,” he sneered, downing the beer as we walked past him.

  “Don’t mind if we do,” she said, her voice syrupy sweet.

  I sent up a little prayer that the dogs would stay outside, but they all came in, the last one barely making it through the crack before Billy Jack slammed the door shut.

  Standing in the middle of the living room, Neely Kate waved her hand in front of her face. I couldn’t blame her. It smelled like a rat had crawled up inside the tattered sofa and died. “What in tarnation are you cooking in this trailer, Billy Jack?” she asked.

  He crushed the beer can with his hand, then tossed it over his shoulder into the kitchen, where it landed on the floor. “I’m working on my super-secret muskrat jerky recipe.”

  She shook her head in irritation. “Everybody and his brother knows the only reason you started seeing Dolly Parton was to get at Aunt Thelma’s jerky recipes.”

  “That right there’s a bunch of bullshit! I was making jerky for years before Dolly started hangin’ around.”

  She put her hands on her hips and glared. “So where is she now?”

  “I done told you. I. Don’t. Know.”

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “Two days ago. We got into a big-ass fight and she took off with some guy.”

  “What guy?”

  “How the hell would I know?”

  She turned her head and gave him a sideways glare. “You’re standin’ there tellin’ me that you let Dolly Parton go out that door—” she pointed at the front door, “and get into a car with some guy you didn’t know nothin’ about?” Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead at his silence. “Huh?”

  “All right.” He opened a baby gate separating the kitchen from the living room, and the dogs immediately followed him. He moved over to the sink and opened a window, then reached through the opening and grabbed a can of beer.

  The dogs ran deeper into the room and began snarling.

  Billy Jack cast a backward glance at the dogs as he popped the beer open. “Go on now. Git.” He shooed them out of the kitchen and sauntered into the living room while taking a big gulp of his beverage.

  The dogs skidded to a halt next to a nasty leather recliner, still snarling, and piled in a heap.

  I felt a vision coming, and I nearly groaned out loud. Talk about poor timing. The nasty trailer faded away, and suddenly I was in a tiny room covered in cheap paneling. An old metal desk sat in the corner. A pretty brunette wearing something that looked like a two-piece swimsuit covered in sequins leaned against it, and she looked ticked off.

  “I’ve done my part, and I want my money,” I said in Billy Jack’s voice.

  She put her hands on her hips. “Well, you didn’t really deliver in the end, did you?” Her face softened, but her mouth puckered into a pout. “Besides, I thought you did it for me, sugar.”

  “I did,” I grunted. “But I still got bills to pay.”

  She sighed, gliding toward me, trailing her fingertips down the side of my face. “Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of you.” The vision quickly faded.

  “You did it for her,” I blurted out as Billy Jack’s living room came back into focus.

  “What are you on about?” he hollered. “If she wanted to leave, I couldn’t do much to stop her.”

  Neely Kate shot me a weird look, then turned back to him. “Cut the stalling, Billy Jack.” She tapped her foot. “I ain’t got all day. I got a boss nosier than a cat sniffing out a ball of catnip, wondering where in Sam Hill I am. Who’d Dolly Parton leave with?”

  “Some guy from her work.”

  Neely Kate’s back stiffened. “What guy?”

  “I don’t know. I think he’s a bartender. He came out here lookin’ for her, and she left with him. That’s all I know.”

  She put her hand on her hips. “And you just let him take her?”

  “It weren’t like that.” He waved his foot at the dogs in front of the recliner, and they scattered, one of them dragging the fur of something that looked alarmingly like a raccoon. Billy Jack flopped down in his chair without spilling a drop of beer—an amazing feat. “I done told you we had a fight. She locked herself in the bedroom, then she came barreling out and hopped in his car. She must have called him.”

  “Where’d she go?”

  “Damn, woman, yer like a broken record. My answer’s the same as the other first half-dozen times you asked. I don’t know.”

  Neely Kate considered his answer before asking. “What were you fightin’ about?”

  He stopped mid-sip, mumbling, “I forget.” Then took a drink.

  “You forget?” Neely Kate’s tone was dry.

  “That was two days ago—” he snorted his disgust, “you can’t expect me to remember everything.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Try again, Billy Jack.”

  They had a staring contest for several seconds before he looked away, squirming. “She thought I was messin’ around on ’er.”

  “Were you?”

  He looked defiant. “Even if I was, it still don’t make it right that she smashed my TV on her way out.” He gestured to a flat screen TV with a shattered screen. “I traded that for a hundred pounds of jerky to Big G at the pawn shop.” His eyes widened. “Do you know how hard it is to make a hundred pounds of jerky?”

  “Where’s Dolly’s car?” Neely Kate asked.

  He shrugged. “The repo man came and took it two weeks ago.” He downed more beer.

  “If you see her, have her call me. I can’t get her on her cell, and her momma’s worried.”

  Fear filled his eyes at the mention of Neely Kate’s aunt. “That woman’s the devil.”

  “And you’re lucky she didn’t
come out here and tan your hide.” Neely Kate glanced at me. “Give me one of your cards.”

  My mouth parted. “What?”

  “Your business card. Give me one.”

  Did she really think Billy Jack was gonna hire me to landscape his yard? “I don’t think—”

  She held her hand out to me. “Give me one.”

  I dug into my purse and pulled out one of my new business cards. I gave it to her, and she handed it to Billy Jack.

  “If you remember anything or hear from her, call this number.”

  “I ain’t gonna hear from her. I told her not to bother comin’ back.”

  Neely Kate headed for the front door, apparently done with him.

  “Take that box with you,” he called out.

  “What box?” she asked.

  He pointed to a cardboard box on an end table on the other side of the wall. “That’s Dolly’s stuff. Take it with ya.”

  Neely Kate looked torn with indecision, so I hefted the box on my hip. She gave me a grateful smile, then opened the front door. Just then, one of the dogs shot across the floor with the raccoon skin in his mouth and raced outside, the other four dogs following.

  “You let my dogs out with that skin! Now I’ll never get them back!” Billy Jack hollered, fumbling with the lever on his chair as he tried to put it down. “Fluffy! Carmen!” he shouted.

  Neely Kate’s eyes widened. “Run!”

  We hurried out the door, trying to take advantage of our lead time and our sobriety. The dogs were shooting toward the woods, the dog with the raccoon hide in the lead.

  We’d made it to the dirt road when Billy Jack finally appeared in the doorway. “Carmen! Poncho! Mr. Wiggles!” His gaze landed on us as we halted in horror, both of us staring at him. “I’m gonna get you for this!”

  Neely Kate took off running again, and I struggled to keep up while juggling the heavy box. Thankfully Billy Jack was drunk enough that his coordination was off, and he missed the top step, landing flat on his face. He fell hard enough that I worried for a moment that he was really hurt, but as he struggled to his feet, it soon became apparent that Neely Kate and I were the ones in real danger.