"Are you real tired, sweetheart?" she asked.
"Just plumb tuckered, Leonie."
She follered me back to the car. I put the suitcase on the grass in the shade under the trees, used it for a pillow when I laid down. Leonie laid down beside me. Having her there was good. We snuggled up a little and I kissed her. She always kisses back real fine. She was gonna make a wife worth having around, all right. My heart beat a little fast and I knowed Leonie was gitting excited. While we was kissing our hands was crawling on each other, and she was breathing hard.
She was wearing one of them dresses without no sleeves, with little bows on both shoulders a-holding it up. I pulled them bowstrings undone and drug the top of her dress down to her waist. Then I pulled on her shift straps and she let me shuck them off over her arms. I started to pull her clothes plumb off, but she grabbed my hands and pushed them away.
"Sweetheart," she said, panting fast, "I thought we promised we wasn't going to do that no more till we was married. Remember, the last time that's what we said."
I remember that's what we said last time, awright, and just about every other time we'd ever done it. Trouble was we never could quite seem to git married before the next time. And I had a real painful hunger for her right now, not seeing her for so long. I figgered she must want me to beg, so I started a-begging her.
"Aw, honey, come on. We're as good as married, right now. That's what I made you come down to Dallas for. Some old preacher saying a few words ain't gonna make us no never mind. It's just this one more time. What's one time make any difference?"
Leonie must of wanted me real bad, too. She played like she was thinking it over real hard; and I kissed her real long and slow to help her think.
"Well, I don't guess it would be too awful bad this once more, Junior, since we aim to really get married this time. I know you wouldn't want us to do nothing wrong no more than I would. I reckon it's all right, sweetheart.
I finished taking off her dress and petticoat, and then what little else she had on. I liked to watch Leonie's body come in sight a little at a time like that. Then she made me wait while she folded up all her clothes and put them in a neat stack behind the suitcase. I started laughing.
"What's so funny, Junior Knowles?" she said, standing there pouting.
"It's funny, at a time like this, you acting like you was folding up the week's ironing to put it away, Leonie."
"Now you listen to me, Mr. Junior. I'm getting married in these here clothes and I ain't going to be shamed in front of no preacher. They got messed up bad enough on that old bus. Hurry and get your own clothes off, sweetheart, before I change my mind."
I done her bidding, cause after all's said and done Leonie can be a real determined woman when she sets her mind to be.
Soon we kissing and loving again. Then there wasn't nothing but me and Leonie. No cops, no Donald, no troubles. Just me and Leonie and hard, sweet loving that was just as good as it ever was.
Afterwards, when we was resting beside each other in that lazy way you feel, I begun slowly to remember.
"Leonie--Just thought of something, just now. See if that clock in the car's running, will you, honey?"
She got up and went to the car. "It's ticking away, Junior. It's almost eleven." She laid back down and we snuggled up together again. I was feeling comfortable for about the first time since I come to Dallas. But all of a sudden Leonie set up. Naturally I bounced right up, too.
"What is it, Leonie?"
"I just thought of Donald again. Where's he at, Junior? He's just a boy! We cain't go off and leave Donald here in Dallas by his lonesome."
I couldn't tell her how bad I'd wanted to bring him.
"Is that all's bothering you? Donald's done gone--taken his share of the money and left town awready. We split up, so's not to git caught. Don't worry none about Donald. He's safe enough where he's at, awright."
"He go on back home, Junior?"
"Now how could he do that? They'll look just as hard for us back home as in Dallas. He ain't never going back to Oklahoma, and I ain't neither."
"Then that means I cain't go back neither. Oh, Junior! I'm scared!" And, woman-like, she busted out crying again.
"Dang it, Leonie, don't go being scared again. I'm with you, ain't I? And please don't cry no more, honey. Come on and lay back down here by old Junior again, and we'll just think about us--about what we'll do when we git to where we're going."
She stretched out by me again, sniffling, and I knowed she was still scairt, shaking like she was.
"Leonie, I'm gonna buy you scads of new clothes, and we'll go stepping at them big dance halls all the time. You'll have the time of yore life, honey, in all them big stores, buying any dang thing you want. All kinds of dresses and shoes, and bathing suits. Say, how about a pretty white bathing suit? You'd shore look nice in it. How's that sound?"
"I don't want no white bathing suit--"
"Well, it ain't got to be white. Color don't make me no never mind, long as it's on yore pretty figger."
I could tell she was settling down some, and I stroked her sweet-like to help her along, trying to take her mind off of my troubles. Soon she was breathing deep, against my neck.
"It sounds nice, Junior. What else you gonna buy me?"
I just said, "Anything you see that you'd like to have," and kept on petting her. She snuggled closer and closer against me. I was drowsy and my eyes went shut. "You sleepy, Leonie?"
She give a sort of a grunt and said she wasn't.
"Well, iff'n I doze off a little, would you keep yore eye on the clock?"
"Uh-huh, Junior," she said, almost whispering it.
"Just you think of what things you want, and I'll git 'em for you in Houston, Leonie."
She would watch for me, I knowed. I got sleepier and sleepier; and then I guess I was asleep, cause I was dreaming I heard the twelve o'clock whistle and me and Leonie was on our way to git on a big airplane that would git me out of this Dallas-town forever.
Chapter 22
Bill Brown
FROM my lowly station at the bottom of the stairs I was watching Kay and trying to make conversation. She was nice to watch. It could be a pleasant, permanent hobby.
I knew I should stir my stumps, get the hell out into greater Dallas and try to get a couple of hooks into my boy Junior. But I wasn't quite as ready for strenuous exertion as I had thought before I made that long trip down the stairs.
I had a hunch the pride of Homicide, Campbell, would get close, but that Junior would break away from him in the end.
I eased up from the stair I had sat on and crossed the hall to the bar. I made the zigs and zags come out even until I had a grip on the edge. It was well stocked. I poured and downed a couple of good-sized hookers. No effect to speak of. I poured three fingers more, fat ones, in my glass. Kay came over.
"Is drinking going to do any good?"
"Nothing could do me any good." I chewed up the three fat fingers.
"I don't think you'd better drink any more."
"It's your whisky," I said.
"I didn't mean that."
"Well, what did you mean?"
"I meant drinking wouldn't help you."
"Are we going through that again?"
"Bill. Please."
"Pour you one, you mean?"
"Please don't drink any more!"
I fumbled around and found a cigarette.
"May I smoke?"
"You're being hateful."
"It's customary to ask a lady, isn't it?"
"Yes--You may smoke, Bill."
I lit the cigarette. I was sore at myself and taking it out on this poor little rich girl. She wasn't a bad kid. Plenty on the ball, considering everything she'd had to take on the chin.
"I'm sorry, Kay. I don't feel so good. Don't pay any attention."
I set the glass down on the bar.
"I know, Bill." She smiled at me sweetly. A martyr. She squeezed my arm. Then the phone rang and she walke
d over to answer it.
"Hello? All right, I'll take it," she said.
She nodded once, twice, thanked whoever it was, and racked the phone.
"It was a telegram for you, Bill."
"It was? Too bad I wasn't here to take it."
"I took it for you. I thought with your head and all--"
"Thanks. Would it bear repeating? Or do you think with my head and all--?"
"It didn't make sense to me."
"It wasn't sent to you."
"It was from Ed Brown, Los Angeles. Her forehead wrinkled and she closed her eyes. "'You never liked L. A. anyhow. Forget it. Love. Ed.'"
Kay raised her eyebrows. "See? It doesn't make any sense, does it?"
It made a lot of sense to me. The short-cutting brother. Deciphered it meant I was through, and wanted. That hot, hot day was a long time ago. How long was it? Let's see--Actually, less than a week! Jesus.
"What does it mean?" Kay asked.
"It doesn't mean good. I lost my job."
"I'll get you a better one right here in Dallas."
"Thanks. I can't wait."
I drained my drink without moving my head more than I had to, and dropped the butt I'd been dragging on into it.
"Is that meant to be sarcastic?" she asked. "I can't tell what you mean half the time."
"Maybe I'd better finish this job first. Before we settle my future."
"Where do we start?"
"I start by talking to that doctor who had Donald. The Lieutenant could've missed a lead there, maybe."
"I'm ready."
"Not me. I need another gun. I loaned mine out."
Kay crooked her finger and I followed her, steadying myself against the wall, into the library. I wasn't anxious to see that room; but if she could take it I could. It had been well cleaned. She opened a wall-case full of small arms, shotguns, rifles and a scattering of knives.
"Weapons were--Dad's hobby."
"Yeah?"
I chose a .38 Police Special. I like them. I checked it to see if it was loaded. It was. I wouldn't know why, in a trophy case like that, but it was. The old man seemed to have kept everything ready.
"Nice collection," I said. "And all primed, to boot."
"So are we, aren't we? Shall I get my Jaguar? It's pretty fast."
"One of those too, huh? Good idea. Junior could want to race, if we get near him."
She went for the Jaguar and I went out the front door to wait. It was getting to be routine. Kay brought a dust cloud with her as she swung the English car across the drive and slid up in front of the porch. It was slick as a wet seal. A California seal. So was Kay. I got in but I wasn't too comfortable. It wasn't custom built for my bulk.
"Do you know where to go?" I asked her.
"I'm driving, am I not?"
"You're driving."
I must have made a picture. Over two hundred pounds of beef with a white bandage around the top of my head like a turban, sticking out of a red, midget car. Oh, well.
We knew the doctor's house before we saw the number. A small crowd was milling around in front. We pulled up behind a police car parked at the curb and the crowd gave us a thorough once-over and started arguing about who we might be.
Kay ordered the uniformed policeman over to the car. More and more she registered as the imperious type. Maybe I would be too if I had more money than an entire firm of public accountants could account for.
"Is Lieutenant Campbell here?"
He counted her breasts and said, "No, ma'am. He left a while back."
"We want to see the doctor, then.
"Sorry, ma'am. Him and his wife ain't talking. The Lieutenant's orders."
"I want him to look at my head," I said.
"He ain't seeing no patients, neither. Sorry."
"Thank you," Kay told him.
A siren came down the street and the crowd stretched rubber necks. The ambulance stopped at the curb; two men got out, took a stretcher from the back doors and went into the house.
"Let's go," I said.
"Wait a minute."
The stretcher bearers brought out a covered body and slid it in the back. They drove away, not bothering to turn on the siren.
Donald didn't have a chance, I thought. This would be with me a long time. A full-grown cop, walking out on a plain, premeditated, vengeful murder.
"I'll be right back," Kay told me.
She got out and went into the house. No ordinary patrolman could keep a Dallas Dixon out of any place. I smoked a cigarette, and she came right back as she had promised. She got under the wheel and drove away.
I waited a few blocks, then, "All right, I give up. What did you find out?"
"Where the Lieutenant is. I want to check with him for the latest."
"And where is he?"
"Out on the Shreveport highway."
"Better drop me a block this side, or he won't like you no more."
"I'll handle it."
The shock was wearing off; her tone became rather sharp again, as if when she cracked the whip Dallas would have to jump through a hoop. I'd seen enough whipcracking. I filed it away under one of the knife blades in my head.
The fresh air felt good on my face. There was plenty of it, the way she kept jamming her toe down on the accelerator. We got to the roadblock too fast to suit me. Campbell's Buick was there. He leaped out of it and rushed over.
"You, Brown! I left you under arrest--told you to stay in."
"So you did. But my Jailer was leaving. I'm with my jailer. What more could you want?"
Kay took the ball away from me.
"It's perfectly all right, Lieutenant. Don't scream so. Mr. Brown has a headache."
"I'll cure it for him. I've had enough of his damned headaches."
"Got an aspirin on you, Lieutenant?" I asked.
His face was livid. He started the explosion; but the look on Kay's face or the yell from his driver stopped him. I didn't know which, but would have put my money on Kay's look.
"Lieutenant!" his driver was calling. "I think you better hear this. It's the boys at the airport--Love Field."
The Lieutenant wheeled away and walked quickly to his car. He wasn't on the radio long, and I couldn't hear a thing he said. He shouted to Kay from his car, "Take Brown back to your place and keep him there; or I'll lock him in jail so deep he'll need a week to get back to the ground floor."
He said something to his driver and the Buick roared away.
Kay turned to look at me. "Well?"
"He's latched onto something," I said.
"He may have at that."
"May have? Didn't you see how brave he got? Almost insubordinate!"
"Well, where to now? Home?" she asked.
"Later, maybe. The airport first."
"You think it was a report on Junior?"
"I wouldn't be surprised--not in the least."
"Let's go, then," Kay said.
I couldn't be absolutely sure because we were going so fast; but I got the impression Lieutenant Campbell's face turned awfully red as we went around his Buick on the way to the airport.
Chapter 23
Leonie Hempel
JUNIOR dropped off and started snoring.
Laying there with my arms around him, I was trying to think about buying things down at Houston, like he told me; but I couldn't keep my mind to it. There was oodles of things I'd like to have, but what good would they do me?
What good would pretty clothes, shoes and permanent waves do me when I was a-setting in jail or a penitentiary for women, looking out of windows with bars across? When I helped Junior get past them policemen and escape, I'd be in 'most as much trouble as him. In all the pitcher shows, girls doing what I was doing get caught--every time. I'd be a gun moll, that's what; and up to now no policeman had ever spoke to me except to say howdy.
I reckoned I wouldn't be treated as bad as Junior; but I knowed it would be awful just the same. Ever since Junior first started a-courting me, Mama and Papa always
said he'd wind up in jail some day. I hadn't never believed it; but he was getting mighty close to it right now-- and taking me along with him, too.
He laid there propped against the suitcase, peaceful as a just-born lamb, with sweat oozing out of his face. There wasn't no breeze a-tall and it was awful hot. Everything was quiet, and over where the shade stopped the heat made the air look wavy above the ground. The hair right next to Junior's head was a little darker than the rest, cause his head was sweating too. He looked so sweet, sleeping, and I loved him with all my heart, I didn't care about all that money. I mean, I didn't care about it if it would get us both in prison. I just wanted plain old Junior, without no trouble or taking all them chances. Just like he was, and forever. Not for just a few days before they put us both in different jails where we couldn't even see each other.
Oh, if Junior would only do like I asked him! The judge might have mercy and not be too hard on him if he was honest enough to take the money back to the bank and own up to doing wrong. He might go to jail, but if he was good in there he could get out sooner. And I could wait on him, just like I'd been doing most of my life.
If I helped him and we did get away this time it would do no real good. They wouldn't quit hunting us, not never. They'd track us down like sheep-killing dogs. Even if they didn't find us for a spell, most of that money would get spent while we was running and hiding. Then Junior would think he had to get us some more; and most likely he'd try robbing somebody else or another bank! And it'd go on and on and on, getting worse and worse, till we was in jail--Or maybe even shot by policemen!
It's better not to start running in the first place, cause the road just don't have no end once't you start. How in the whole wide world was I gonna get Junior to see that? He wouldn't listen to me no more, not in a hundred years. There was only one thing for me to do if he was dead set against saving hisself from such a terrible end.
I'd have to do it for him. I loved him too much to let him get in such a mess, even if he might hate me for taking it on myself to keep him out of it. Once't I got my mind made up it wasn't too hard to do.
I eased away from Junior and got up and put my clothes back on.
I lifted his head up real slow and slid the suitcase out from under him an inch at a time. Then I let his head back down on the grass, careful and gentle, and he kept on snoring slow and soft. I tiptoed out to the road with the suitcase.
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