by Dixie Cash
Debbie Sue grinned. “Let me worry about that.”
Edwina’s jaw dropped and her mouth formed an O as a knowing expression came into her eyes. “Child, I don’t like what you’re thinking. Buddy’s liable to lock you and me both up.”
Debbie Sue adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder. “Listen, I gotta scoot. He’s waiting for me. I’ll remind him about those handcuffs.”
fourteen
Nothing like starting the day with a grouch. Tag peered over the top of his newspaper at his house guest, sitting on the other side of the table. His effort to talk to Quint had been wasted. The guy mumbled, grumbled, and kept his nose buried in the sports section.
Tag hid his amusement behind his own section of the paper. He didn’t know what his old pal had done the previous evening, but apparently it hadn’t gone well. “See Allison last night?” he asked finally.
“Nope.”
“Gonna see her to night?”
“Don’t know.”
“Get over to Salt Lick like you planned?”
“Yep.”
“Then how come you didn’t see her? You still like her, don’t you?”
“I guess so. I haven’t got to be around her much. Some damn foolishness happens all the time. Or her kid…wait just a damn minute.” Quint laid the paper on the table and gave his friend a quizzical look. “You sure seem interested in what’s going on with me and Allison. Or is it just her you’re interested in? You’ve taken her home twice now. Is there something I oughta know about?”
“Just trying to figure out who put a burr under your saddle blanket.” Tag sipped his coffee and avoided Quint’s eyes.
“Uh-huh.”
“Don’t worry, buddy. The only way I’d ever see Allison is if you weren’t interested in her. But you are, right?”
“Dink—”
“Drop it.”
Tag was uncomfortable. He had hoped Quint would say she wasn’t his type or even that he had something in the works with that blond paramedic, Olivia. Since Halloween night Tag had thought about little else than the kiss he and Allison had shared. That elusive thing people always talked about and looked for, chemistry, had been strong in the wind that night.
Then he remembered that in all the commotion after Quint’s allergic reaction, he’d forgotten to tell him about Diann. “Did I tell you who showed up at the mall the other night after the ambulance hauled you off?”
“Who?”
“Diann.”
“Diann who?”
“My ex, Diann. How many other Dianns do we know?”
“Oh. That Diann.” Quint’s eye twitched. He stood up, walked to the counter, and refilled his mug. “She still good-looking?”
“I couldn’t tell you. She quit looking good to me a long time ago.”
“Was she with somebody?”
Tag looked at his friend standing at the kitchen counter drinking coffee. “Now it’s my turn to ask. You interested in her? ’Cause if you are, the best advice I can give you is to run the other direction and don’t look back.”
“I was just wondering who she’s hooked up with these days, is all.” Quint set his mug on the counter. “Listen, do you mind if I borrow your office for a little while? I’m expecting a fax.”
“Naw, help yourself. I gotta go to town anyway.” Tag rose and gathered and plumped the newspaper stack. He tossed it in the recycle bin as he passed through the kitchen on his way to the back door. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah. Later.”
Once Tag was in his truck, he sat there letting the engine idle. At least Quint hadn’t been out with Allison last night. Tag suspected he had asked her, but had been turned down. That accounted for his bad mood.
Tag sighed. All that meant was there was another night to get through.
ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER dollar. Hopefully.
Debbie Sue sat in her styling chair, her boots propped on her workstation counter, ankles crossed. No customers were due for an hour. One of the pleasures of arriving early was sitting undisturbed and collecting her thoughts before the day started.
The many pages of information Quint had left with her lay on her thighs. He must have printed out every online conversation he and Monica had conducted. Internet dating. Damn. She didn’t know if she was capable of baring her heart and soul to the online personals. Oh, she knew plenty of people who had, women and men both, right here in Salt Lick. She heard their stories often enough from her styling chair. If she felt her options were exhausted she might do it, but thank God she didn’t have to. She was so lucky to have Buddy. She couldn’t imagine being single again or searching for someone with whom to connect.
She hummed to herself and sipped her coffee as she read, wondering if this Monica was an alias. Her last name might not be real either.
It was easy to see why Quint had been taken in. The woman seemed to be a willing, sincere innocent, not a con artist moving in for the kill. Her words seemed to reveal someone sweet but at the same time seductive. She had typed a positive response to everything Quint had said he liked. Every invitation he had extended, she had accepted. Yet the girl gave away nothing of herself. Not a clue to reveal her location.
As much as Debbie Sue wanted to find the woman who had stolen Quint’s identity, she was more than a little curious to see the one who had stolen his heart. She couldn’t help but feel compassion for him. She knew that underneath all that bluster and cockiness he was lonely. The memory of the look on his face when he first told her and Edwina the story made her want to cry.
In contrast to the pity she felt for Quint, she had a fair number of venomous emotions building for the crook who had taken advantage of him. She intended to get the opportunity to tell that woman what she thought of her.
The notion that this mystery was going to be hard to solve sneaked into her thoughts again. In a discussion of credit-card fraud with Buddy last night during dinner, he had pointed out the low percentage of arrests and convictions for such crimes.
The thought of Buddy made her think of last night’s anniversary celebration. He had been surprised when she suggested dining at Tag Freeman’s Double-Kicker joint. He thought she would want to go to Kincaid’s in Odessa, the steak house they had labeled as “their place.” He thought she would think it was romantic.
During the time she and Buddy had been divorced, he had taken his girlfriend to Kincaid’s. Consequently the romantic aura Debbie Sue had attached to the place had been tainted. But Debbie Sue didn’t tell him that. After all, hadn’t she gone to Kincaid’s with Quint? She had simply assured Buddy that dinner was the least romantic part of the evening and the best was yet to come.
Besides, she didn’t get a chance to go to Tag Freeman’s place often, and being an ex-rodeoer herself, she felt a loyalty to him.
In her rodeoing days she had known Tag, but not well. Back then, sometimes when she hung out around the arena long enough to watch Quint make his ride, she would see Tag entertaining a crowd with magic tricks. Then, as soon as Quint won or lost, she would load up Rocket Man and head up the road to the next performance. That life had been hard and not for the faint of heart. She had been a kid and thought she was invincible. Sometimes she still thought about those days, but now the whole thing seemed more like a dream that had occurred long ago, one she had no desire to relive.
After a delicious barbecue meal, she had talked Buddy into posing for a picture beside the Brahma-bull statue that stood guard near the restaurant’s entrance. He leaned an elbow on the bull’s neck, pushed his Resistol to the back of his head, and gave her a huge smile, one that could melt a heart clear through the Internet’s electronic highway.
The squeak of the salon’s front-door hinges brought her out of her musing. The door opened slightly and closed again. She glanced in the mirror but saw nothing. She resumed reading, but heard the door open and close again. Kids playing a trick.
This time she left the chair and walked out to the salon for a closer inspection. She opened the doo
r, and to her delight, she was greeted by her oldest—literally, her oldest—customer. Octogenarian Maudeen Wiley. Debbie Sue loved her with all her heart. “Maudeen! Hey, girl, what’s going on?”
“Hell, I’m trying to get in this door. You got a dead body laying against it? The damn thing keeps closing on me.”
Debbie Sue didn’t have the heart to tell her no dead body was lying against the door, no extra weight had been added since the last time Maudeen had come to the salon. She took the wizened older woman by the arm and escorted her inside. Maudeen was under five feet tall and probably weighed less than a hundred pounds fully clothed. She looked to be shrinking with each passing year.
Today she was wearing jeans that appeared to be missing an ass and a Western shirt that appeared to be missing a bosom. The shirt was pink satin with pearl snaps and white fringe hanging from the yokes. Debbie Sue looked down and saw laced-up Ropers on Maudeen’s feet. “Holy cow, girl, you’re all dressed up like a cowgirl. Going to a rodeo?”
“What’d you say?” Maudeen asked, her voice slightly elevated.
Not only was the elderly woman getting weaker, she was getting deafer. Each of her visits to the shop seemed to require that Debbie Sue talk louder. “I said, what are you doing out and about so early?”
The elderly woman shuffled toward a styling chair, pushing a gnarly hand through her flame-red hair as she sank to the seat. Enormous diamond rings encircled four of her fingers, mementos from the men she had outlived. “I like to get out early and get my business done before the traffic gets heavy.”
Debbie Sue grinned. In Salt Lick, more than a dozen vehicles were never on the road at any given time of the day. With the village’s population of twelve hundred, the possibility of gridlock was remote.
“You don’t have an appointment today, but I’ve got some time. Want your color touched up?”
“No, darlin’. That’s sweet of you, but I came to ask a favor.”
“You got it. Need a ride somewhere?”
“Nothing like that. I want to know if you’ll let me borrow your shop for a couple of hours Friday night. I want to have a party and I don’t want to use the Peaceful Oasis club room.”
“How come? Don’t tell me they charge you for using it.”
“Naw, they don’t charge. I just don’t want to have to invite the whole damn place to my party. Half the ones you don’t invite get mad and pout, the other half just shows up anyway. It’s a losing situation. Like my love life.”
The good news about Maudeen was that her body might be getting feebler, but her mind and tongue were sharp as ever. The only thing old about her was her birth date. “Of course you can use the shop. What time?”
“That’s swell, honey. It’ll be seven o’clock. Say, why don’t you and Edwina come? I’m trying to win a trip to Branson. I get a point for every dollar you spend on stuff.”
“I thought you’d been to Branson, Maudeen.”
“Yes, but I went on the bus with a group from the home. This is a trip for two on an airplane and we get a fancy hotel room. I’d like to have some privacy with my boyfriend, if you know what I mean?” She winked a wrinkled eyelid.
“Which one is your boyfriend these days?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Well, we don’t want you to miss that trip. Buddy will be out of town Friday and I think Vic’s on the road, too. Ed and I’d love to come. Want me to drum up some more guests for you?”
“Lord, yes. The more the merrier. Don’t feel like you have to buy something, but I’d sure appreciate it.” She rose from the styling chair. “Well, I’d best run. See you Friday and thanks again, darlin’. Don’t worry. I’ll furnish the refreshments.”
Debbie Sue stood in the doorway and watched as Maudeen shuffled to her ’82 Cadillac Seville. Usually her granddaughter brought her to the beauty shop, and Debbie Sue wondered if Maudeen’s family knew she was out driving.
As the elderly woman was about to pull out of the parking lot, it dawned on Debbie Sue she hadn’t asked what kind of party Maudeen wanted to hostess. Debbie Sue yelled, but the roar of the V-8 engine drowned out most of Maudeen’s reply. The only thing Debbie Sue heard her say was “toy.”
Oh, toys. Yikes, Christmas was just around the corner. Debbie Sue had no need for toys, but she didn’t mind buying one or two. She always made a donation to the toy drive the Baptist church sponsored every year.
fifteen
Allison had a habit of arriving at Almost the Rage early enough to inspect the merchandise and neaten the displays before starting the day. Business was definitely on the upswing and she didn’t want to change her luck by varying her pattern. However, with her mom and Frank home from their trip, and knowing that Mom would be in the shop early, she had taken some extra time at home this morning.
Mom and Frank had been gone since Saturday morning on a four-day excursion to view the Hill Country’s fall landscape. She envied but didn’t begrudge the good time her mother was having. Her mom had been through some hard times, and if happiness was within her grasp, Allison wanted her to grab it.
Allison walked through the back entrance of the shop just in time to hear her mother ending a phone call.
“I’ll tell her you called.” A fit of giggling followed. “Now stop that. Okay, bye-bye.”
“Who was that?” Allison asked, making her way to the front of the store. She stopped and straightened some capri pants on hangers.
Her mother assumed a smug expression. “That was a man, calling for you.”
“Tag? Was it Tag?”
Confusion creased Lydia Barker’s brow. “Tag? As in, ‘you’re it’?”
“Ha-ha. Funny. Tag, as in Tag Freeman.”
Her mother’s eyes popped wide. “You know Tag Freeman? Good Lord, he’s a sexy man.”
“Mom!”
“Mom what? Because I said he’s sexy? I may be old, sweetie, but I can still recognize a man that fires the imagination. Frank’s quit taking me to the Double-Kicker because he says he’s tired of watching me drool in the coleslaw. When did you meet him?”
“Sexy, huh? Well, you should have been with me Saturday and Monday nights. He brought me home from dates I had with Quint Matthews.”
“You don’t mean the rodeo champion.”
“Yes, Mother. The one and only.”
“Good Lord. That was him on the phone just now, but he only gave me his first name. I’ve only been gone four days, haven’t I?”
“How was your trip, by the way? How’s Frank?” Allison busied herself readying the till for the day.
“Oh no you don’t, young lady. You’re not getting off that easy. Come over here and tell your mother what’s been going on while I’ve been gone.”
Allison closed the cash-register drawer, walked over to her mom, and gave her a one-armed hug. Then she related the events of the past four days. She omitted the part where she and Tag had kissed in front of his pickup. She didn’t mind giving her mom details, just not all the details.
“What an awful thing for Quint, ending up in the hospital,” her mother said, “but I’m glad Tag was available to bring you home. I can’t help but notice that you haven’t reacted to me telling you Quint called.”
“Oh, I’m excited. Really. Quint’s nothing if not exciting. I just wanted to bring you up to speed first. So what did he say?”
“Just asked if you were here. Then he asked who I was. We discussed the Hill Country. He has a ranch down there. Did you know that?” She took a piece of notepaper from her pocket and handed it to Allison. “Here’s his cell number. He’d like you to call him. Now, why was your first guess that it was Tag I was talking to?”
“It doesn’t really matter who it was, Mom,” she lied. “I met Tag’s ex the other night. She had her tentacles out like a giant squid.” She turned and walked away before her mother could ask any more probing questions that might have painful answers. “I’m sure he’s off the market by now,” she mumbled.
THE FAX MACHIN
E in Tag’s home office ground and grunted as an image came through at a snail’s pace. Fighting the urge to grab the paper and yank it free, Quint carried his coffee cup to the kitchen for a refill.
He hadn’t seen Monica in months. He had so thoroughly convinced himself that it was she behind the theft of his identity, he wasn’t sure what his reaction would be if he learned otherwise.
Returning to the office, he groaned to see the paper only inching its way forward. He cursed aloud, but on second inspection he saw that it was an important inch.
The top portion of a female face was visible. The print was black and white, but that didn’t keep him from seeing that the dark hair pulled atop the head in a wispy fan was all too familiar.
Quint stood there transfixed as the picture became whole. The eyes, the full lips, even the necklace with the diamond heart he had given her, were visible and as close as his fingertips. He ran a finger down the woman’s face, stopping at the lips.
It was her. To someone who didn’t already know her, the image might be described as vague, but Quint was absolutely sure. It was her.
EDWINA PULLED HER vintage Mustang to a screeching halt, grabbed her monster handbag from the backseat, and marched into the Styling Station. “Lock up the men and cover the children’s eyes. I’m here.” She struck a pose befitting the announcement.
Debbie Sue turned her styling chair a half circle to get a better view of her friend. “Well, aren’t we full of it this morning? I’m sure I know why, too, but don’t give me any details. I can barely look at Vic without giggling now.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong. Well, not entirely wrong, but that’s not the only reason I’m happy.”
“Do I have to drag it out of you? Tell me.”
“I was just savoring the moment. You’re the first person to hear.” She sucked in a deep breath. “My baby girl called me early this morning. I’m gonna be a grandma.”
Debbie Sue leaped from her chair squealing with delight. She enveloped Edwina in a big hug. “Oh my God, that is such great news!” They parted and Debbie Sue looked into her eyes. “Congratulations, Granny. I’ve been wondering when one of those girls of yours was gonna give you a grandchild. Which one is it, Billie Pat?”