A Marked Man

by Stella Cameron

  The drone of his heart and the pulse in his ears flattened sounds and movement around Max. He glanced up at Homer Devol and was grateful the older man didn’t look in his direction.

  Rolling the brim of his straw Stetson in gnarled hands, Homer stared at his son. “We gotta talk,” he said. “No use puttin’ it off any longer.”

  Max had learned the hard way that people didn’t seem to bother much about privacy around here. Homer looked about ready to spill his guts and whatever he had to say might not be pleasant.

  The tables had cleared out, all but for the man on his own sitting near the counter. He continued to read his newspaper.

  “You gotta be wonderin’,” Homer said to Spike.

  “I am now. Let’s go outside.”

  “Here’s good enough. I want what I’m going to say to get around this town fast. I’m sick of havin’ folks snicker about me behind my back.”

  Max could see Spike in Homer. Also tall but thinner and sinuous, his face seamed with deep lines, Homer would be counted as a nice-looking man who obviously hadn’t led a soft life. Crew-cut gray hair stood up thick and helped make Homer seem more vigorous than he should.

  At the counter, Annie held the cat. The animal closed her eyes tightly, suggesting she was in bliss. There was a rigid set to Annie’s back. Max figured she could hear the Devol men argue and wasn’t sure what to do next.

  “Homer, please—”

  “Stand there and take what I’ve got to say like a man,” Homer snapped back at Spike. “Ain’t you noticed nuthin’ lately?”

  Spike caught Max’s eye and reddened. “No, I can’t say as I have,” he said. “I’ll be out to the store to see you later on.”

  The store was the convenience store and gas station Homer ran on the outskirts of Toussaint. On a deep lot that reached Bayou Teche, the business also made good money renting out boats and selling bait.

  “I don’t plan on being there later,” Homer said. “I don’t know where I’ll be later. Are you tellin’ me you ain’t noticed I’ve been scarce around Rosebank lately?”

  Color rose higher in Spike’s face. “No, I haven’t noticed that. Why would you be staying away?”

  “On account of my skin ain’t as thick as yours.”

  Max didn’t like seeing Spike’s embarrassment.

  “I’m not standin’ by while folks say I’m a kept man,” Homer continued. “You’re fine with it. Maybe you don’t care, or maybe you don’t hear, but that’s what some say about you, too. You’re a man who lives on his wife’s money. And Charlotte’s her mother so if you can’t see where I’m comin’ from, work it out.” Homer and Charlotte were engaged. Even Max knew the story about the two being soul mates.

  “Think what you’re saying,” Spike said. “I didn’t marry Vivian on account of her havin’ a hotel, or comin’ into a lot of money. When we met she was strugglin’. We’re together because we love each other. Now leave it.”

  “I gotta speak my mind. It’s time you had your eyes opened.”

  “Homer—”

  Homer cut Spike off. “Let me have my say. I do fine for myself. I don’t need no woman’s money and if that means I gotta stay away from Charlotte Patin if I want to feel like a man, then I’ll stay away. For her sake as well as mine.”

  At the counter, Annie rested her elbows and put her face in her hands. Irene inched around until she made a striped fur collar for her boss’s white blouse. Wazoo stared hard at Homer.

  Escape was on Max’s mind, but he’d stay put until Annie went upstairs. He wanted to make some calls of his own to some of the people who were being contacted by the sheriff’s department. They didn’t have his number, not that he thought too many of them would try to make contact. They would be too frightened for Michele. And there were bound to be those who wondered if Max Savage was a killer who duped them into believing in him.

  Spike and Homer stood silent, inches apart, looking hard at each other. “You finished?” Spike said finally. “I say you are anyway. And you’re full of bull. Vivian and I don’t need your interference, especially not now. Not ever. Do you remember Wendy? She’s the granddaughter you supposedly love and she’s happier than she’s ever been. Don’t mess with that. And if you do something stupid about Charlotte, you’ll answer to me. Now I’m out of here.”

  The son strode outside, throwing the door open as he went and letting it slam shut.

  The father stared after Spike for a moment, chomping down on a wad of gum with his back teeth. He took off, repeating the door-slamming performance, and Max avoided turning to see the men through the window.

  Within seconds, several women—evidently the book group—filed quietly from between the stacks and left in a shuffling bunch. Once the door closed again Max heard them burst into conversation. Homer would get his wish. His argument with Spike would be all over town by morning.

  Wazoo leaned toward Annie and spoke quietly to her. Annie nodded, then she stooped to gather the canvas bags she’d set at her feet and moved in the direction of the door at the back of the café.

  “Annie Duhon,” the man on his own said, folding his newspaper. “Didn’t take me so long to find you this time. You’ve got to stop running away from me.”

  She stopped, just stopped. She didn’t even start to turn toward him.

  “You afraid of me, Annie? You afraid of a good old friend? Or are you too important to talk to me anymore?”

  Max noted how she straightened her back—or stiffened it. The bags must be heavy, they dragged on her arms. “Hi, Bobby,” she said, and looked at him.

  She is afraid of him. Well, damn, Max didn’t know a whole lot about Annie before she settled in Toussaint but she had seemed open, if quiet, and sure of herself—until today. From what he could see, Bobby didn’t seem fearsome at all. Clean-cut with short sandy curls, the man’s dark brown eyes smiled at Annie, did more than smile, they invited. A fit guy with a good body.

  The emotion Max felt wasn’t so familiar but he recognized a flash of possessiveness.

  “Nice cat,” the stranger said. “I’m gonna have another cup of coffee. How ’bout you join me? We got a lot of catching up to do.”

  Annie swivelled to see the whole café—and Max. Her mouth tightened when their eyes met. She looked from Bobby—whoever he might be—to Max and what he saw was a woman who felt trapped.

  Max grinned and got a slight smile in return.

  “Maybe this isn’t a good time,” Bobby said. “I can come back.”

  “Leave me a number,” Annie said. “I’ll give you a call sometime.”

  “Annie, I wouldn’t do a thing to interfere with your new life. I want to talk about old times, is all. Reminisce. We had good times together.” A lopsided smile was a combination of boyish charm and hinted-at intimacy that didn’t make Max feel any better.

  “We were kids,” Annie said. Bobby’s familiarity speeded up her pulse. “And I haven’t avoided you. Our paths haven’t crossed and there was no reason to think about you.”

  “You know how to make a man feel small,” Bobby said.

  “You’re responsible for your own feelings,” Annie told him. “I’m not into hanging out in the past. I’ve got things to do. A lot of paperwork.” She lifted her heavy bags a fraction.

  “Not good enough,” Bobby said, and Annie glanced nervously at Max. Why did this have to happen in front of him? Bobby continued, “The last time I saw you, before this mornin’, we weren’t kids anymore. I’ll never be able to explain how I felt that night. I—”

  “Thanks for being there when I needed you,” Annie said, praying she never had to see him again. Why had he decided to follow her around after so many years? She set the bags down, unwound Irene from her neck and handed the cat to Wazoo. “I almost forgot somethin’. Be back in half an hour or so.” Max, sitting there listening to Bobby say things that could only raise curiosity, destroyed any shred of peace she had managed to restore while she was at work that afternoon.

  “How was you
r day—the rest of your day?” Max asked.

  This impossible encounter was a nightmare. No…she would not even think about nightmares. It was up to her to change what was happening.

  “Annie?” Max said. His smile did not disguise tension. He’d not only heard every word Bobby said, he must have drawn conclusions she couldn’t bear to think about.

  She breathed in through her nose and concentrated. “Hi, Max.” If she was lucky, she sounded more cheerful than she felt. “This afternoon was great, thanks. Business is steady and that always makes me happy. Kelly came in. He knows how to make a person feel good.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Max said but nothing about him relaxed.

  He was worried about Bobby, she could feel it.

  “I came here to meet with Spike. There’s still no news on Michele Riley.”

  Of course, Michele. His concern for her made him anxious and that’s what she was picking up on. “I’m so sorry,” Annie said, constantly aware of Bobby listening. “Kelly talked about it, too. All of you have to be upset.”

  Max’s dark, dark eyes flickered away for a moment. “We are,” he said.

  Annie looked at his mouth. The corners turned up even when he was troubled. “What are they doing to find her?” she said.

  “Searching,” he said. “And checking with friends. The usual procedure, I guess.”

  “How about that coffee?” Bobby said with a forced laugh. “Guess you aren’t in so much of a hurry to leave after all.”

  She continued to look at Max and said, “Bobby’s right. I’d better get on. ’Bye.”

  Max turned his head to see where Annie went. She got into the Volvo and drove out of sight, but didn’t appear to head back down Main Street. Out of sight from the shop windows, one small street cut to and from the square. Annie might have taken that but she could just as well have used the alley that led to parking places behind this building. He wanted Annie to have gone home rather than set off to drive aimlessly.

  He didn’t want to look at Bobby and even more, he didn’t want to talk to him. The sensation that he’d like to slam him against a wall and demand to know why he was bothering Annie unsettled him. Max got up and went to the counter. Wazoo stood opposite him at once and kept her voice way down. “There’s really big trouble,” she said. “That Annie, she is in danger.”

  “What kind of danger?” Max leaned to bring their heads closer.

  “I get these notions. Folks laugh at me, but they not thinkin’. Too many times I see things that’s goin’ to happen. Sorta see ’em.”

  Max waited for her to continue.

  Wazoo took her time before she said, “It’s just I see somethin’ happenin’, or feel things. My mama was the same. And her mama. This time it’s worse—stronger. Makin’ me weary tryin’ to sort it all out. I don’t know what’s goin’ on, or what’s goin’ to happen, but it’s somethin’ terrible. And your Annie’s in the middle of it.” She paused and moved far enough back to see his face. “You, too, maybe. But what I’m pickin’ up is comin’ from her.”

  He was a surgeon, a scientist, and he didn’t buy into this drivel. “Thanks,” he said and smiled at Wazoo. Your Annie, that’s what she had said. She had no reason to link them as a couple unless Annie had said something to her, and Annie seemed as eager as he was to keep their association quiet.

  “You and Annie got something going?” Bobby said.

  Max looked at the other man who stared right back. “What?” Max said. “No, you don’t have to say any more. I don’t know who you are and I don’t want to know.” The guy was looking for trouble.

  “Of course you don’t. You’re afraid I’m competition and I reckon you’re right.”

  The tingle down Max’s spine was a natural reaction to confronting a clearly unhinged man. He composed himself. “Good night to you,” he said.

  “I plan for it to be a great night.” The innocent look slipped into a leer.

  Max glanced at Wazoo, and thought of Annie. She might or might not be alone upstairs but he wasn’t comfortable leaving while this guy was here. “It’s later than I thought,” he said, checking his watch. “Are you about to close up?”

  “In another hour,” Wazoo said.

  He looked down into the bakery case and pretended to be deep in thought. “Guess I should eat something before I go. I may not get time later. I’ll have a piece of spinach pie.”

  “That pie is collard greens with onions, red beans and boudin sausage.”

  Max didn’t like the sound of it, but he didn’t care that much, either. “Fine,” he said. “And I’ll have some iced tea, if you’ve got it. Does everything feel kind of still to you?”

  “Uh-huh,” Wazoo said. “Me, I won’t be shocked if there’s another storm.”

  “I hope you’re wrong,” Max said and returned to his table.

  Wazoo came to clean away the dirty dishes. This time she didn’t have anything to say.

  He sensed the man, Bobby, staring at him and looked back. He hadn’t expected to see a smile, but the guy smiled broadly at him.

  Max nodded, but wished Roche was with him. His psychiatrist brother’s reaction to this man might be interesting.

  “Annie doesn’t talk much about herself these days, I reckon,” Bobby said. “That doesn’t surprise me, no sir. When a body’s tryin’ to get lost it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to talk about the past. What d’you say to that? Had she told you much about where she came from and what she did?”

  “Why are you pushing this?” Max said. “Annie doesn’t owe me any explanations about her life before I met her.”

  “I bet you’ve fucked her. She fucks most men she meets.”

  Max shot out of his seat and made it to Bobby in a couple of steps. “A man, a man that is, doesn’t talk about a woman that way. He doesn’t use language like that in public places when there’s a lady present, either.”

  “Lady?” Bobby’s expression turned blank.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Max said. “Did Annie turn you down and you can’t get over it?” He stared down at him and breathed hard.

  Bobby laughed. “I don’t guess so, buddy. Oh, no. That girl was all fire between my legs, but you’d know about that.”

  “Why are you saying this?”

  “I’m lookin’ out for you, is all. Wouldn’t want a fine man suckered in by real used merchandise.”

  Max grabbed Bobby by the shoulders and tipped him until the front legs of his chair left the floor. Bobby flung out his arms and tried to grapple himself up again. Max let the chair dip lower and the man flailed.

  “Damn you,” he yelled. “You back off or I’ll call your sheriff friend.”

  “Okay by me,” Max said, jiggling the chair while Bobby made a grab at his shirt and got off a weak blow to the belly. “Do that again and you’ll be there a long time. What’s on your mind about Annie? Spit it out and let’s get it over with.” Suddenly, with a force that stole his breath, he wanted to rattle the creep’s teeth. “She doesn’t say anything negative about anyone, so what’s your problem?”

  “Whooee! That pretty girl got to you. She’s the first woman I loved, the only one, that’s my problem. Now she’s behaving like she can’t even see me. That’s also my problem.”

  “Then get lost. She’s not interested in you.”

  “I’ll get out when I’m ready. Annie Duhon owes me and she knows it. There’s things you can’t set right, but you can try.”

  Max began to haul the man and his chair upright.

  “You should have made it with her when she was sixteen,” Bobby jabbered and grinned. “Man, she was something else.”

  Max let the chair sag again. “That was what? Thirteen years ago? You’d better get a life and move on.”

  “I gotta life and I like where I am. All I want is a little respect. I suffered. And I helped her out big-time, too. But seeing her around here lookin’ like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth is something I can’t take. My folks never forg
ave me for bein’ with her. She’s dirty, that one. Soiled.”

  He would drop the man on the floor and beat the crap out of him. Max felt it coming.

  “She’s soiled,” Bobby yelped. “But I’m still gonna take her back. I’ll forgive her because she was young and adults interfered. I was an adult, too, but they didn’t let that count.”

  “Are you telling me you were over eighteen and having sex with a minor?”

  “Drop the fancy talk,” Bobby all but screamed at him. “I know why she’s afraid to let on she still loves me. I’m not talkin’ about that. But I am counseling you to find fresh meat.”

  “I think I’m going to kill you,” Max said, deadly quiet.

  Max let go of Bobby’s shoulders and he crashed to the floor, the back of the chair splintering around him. As he fell, his head slammed into the counter.

  “Tell Ellie I’ll be by to settle up on this chair,” Max said to Wazoo, stepping over Bobby who scrambled to extricate himself and rubbed his head at the same time. “And you didn’t hear a word he said here. Got that?”

  “You can bet your pride and joy I do,” she replied. She set a small pistol on the counter and crossed her arms.

  CHAPTER 9

  Rather than turn right as soon as he was outside Hungry Eyes and appear to follow Annie, Max went to the left. He walked briskly, not so much as glancing at his car when he passed. Bobby wasn’t sitting near the windows and there was a good chance he had no idea the Boxster belonged to Max. The car was better where it was while he circled out of the square. He went around the block to look for a rear access to the dead-end alley beside Joe Gable’s law offices.

  He wasn’t about to accept an obscene attack on Annie. He didn’t believe Bobby, but he did think the man should be watched. Maybe what had been said would come up when Max reached Annie—if he did. Maybe it wouldn’t. Her safety was his main concern, that and getting an explanation for what really happened on that piece of land in St. Martinville.