by Penny Lam
A swatch of grease is on his cheek. Grabbing a nearby rag, I start to rub it off, loving how the stubble of his beard is rough through the cloth. “Please. I taught Buck half of what he knows. Besides, this is my baby, and she’ll tell me what she needs.”
“That sounds serious. Maybe I should go inside and leave you alone with her.”
Shep pinches my leg softly. “How was town?” I can’t school my features before he sees my hesitation and frowns. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing, really.” Fidgeting, I stand and lean on the car. “Just had a run in with Mikey is all.”
This has Shep’s undivided attention. He rolls all the way out and heaves his way up. The fog of his breath dances in the air while he wipes his hand clean on ripped jeans. The bulge of his muscles lets me know he’s tense. Pissed. “What did little Mikey need to say?” The emphasis on ‘little’ isn’t lost on me, and Shep’s not kidding. He’s got at least three inches on Mikey. Forty pounds of muscle, too. Add in Buck, and Mikey’s dogfood.
“Really, Shep, it’s okay. I handled it.” I mean it, too. It thrills me that Shep gets up in arms over me. He’s not great at talking about his feelings, but the man knows how to show them. From fucking to fighting, he isn’t exactly subtle. But it’s more than that. I’m proud of talking back to Mikey. “He won’t bother me again.”
“But,” Shep insists, “he was bothering you. When he should know better.”
“He was just being crude. It isn’t anything I haven’t heard before. You don’t grow up with my mama and not hear things, Shep.”
His face darkens. “You don’t deserve to hear those kinds of things, Vickie.”
I shrug. “Well, it’s been done and over with. There was just one thing that I didn’t understand.” Lloyd’s been on my mind the whole ride home. It’s probably nothing, but with the weird feelings I’ve been getting while I’m out, I feel the need to speak up. “Mikey said Lloyd’s still talking about pimping me out.”
Shep doesn’t reply. He grabs the cloth from my hands and scrubs his face a bit harder. All it does is smear the grease on more, making him look ferocious. Like a storm incarnate. Without a word, he starts out, me following close at his heels.
As soon as I see where we’re headed I grab at his elbow. “No, Shep, it ain’t worth it. Besides, Buck isn’t here.”
“You think I need Buck to take care of me?” I know he doesn’t mean to lash out at me, but I release his elbow and wince all the same.
“No, but this isn’t going to solve anything.”
He’s stomping up the rickety stairs to my mama’s trailer. Those stairs have seen more boots than I can count, but they shudder under the wrath of Shep. His fist bangs on the storm door. It’s so loud it’s like a supper bell for our neighbors, signaling them their feast of drama is about to be served.
Shep’s forced to step back as the door opens. Lloyd’s got a shotgun in his hand, and my fist stifles my scream. Shep doesn’t flinch.
“What the fuck do you want?” Lloyd shouts. He hasn’t aimed the shotgun, but his hands seem restless while holding it. Behind Lloyd I can see glimpses of my mama. It stuns me how little I feel about it, and her.
“I heard you’ve still been mouthing off about Vickie. Saying you got plans to pimp her out.”
The doors around us are all squeaking open. The whole park is out to witness us, yet again. Lloyd doesn’t get cocky with them there, not after last time. Enough of our neighbors spoke for Shep and Buck, and Lloyd’s not counting on their support or loyalty now. Still, he’s feeling big in his own home with that gun in his hands. I see his chest stick out a bit more and a shit-eating grin widen on his face. “What I say don’t concern you. In concerns me and that trollop--” he nods to me, and I wrap my arms around my stomach tight, “and what she owes me.”
“Look,” Shep’s voice is low, but it still carries. “I’m saying this once. If you talk to Vickie. Touch her. Think about her at all? I won’t just beat you. I’ll put you in the fucking ground. So shut your goddamn mouth.”
Lloyd’s smile drops. When he shouts, it isn’t at Shep. It’s at the neighbors. “See that? He threatened to kill me!”
Shep passes by me and slings an arm over my shoulder. Returning to our trailer isn’t optional. As soon as we’re inside, I whirl on him. “Why did you do that?”
“Because he needed to know his place.” Walking to the kitchen, he yanks open the fridge and pulls out a beer.
“But now people will think you’re crazy, Shep!”
“Fuck what people think about me.”
“They’ll think you’re a murderer if you just go around saying you’ll kill people!”
He slams the bottle on the counter hard enough that I fear it’ll break. It doesn’t. “We both know they already think it. Hell, Buck thinks it-- no, don’t argue.” His features soften, the anger beginning to leave him. “Okay. Maybe he doesn’t think I killed my folks, but he’s not sure I didn’t, either.”
Shrugging out of my coat, I meet him in the kitchen. Wrapping my arms around his middle, I press my cheek into the ropey muscles of his back. Angled like this I can hear his lungs rattle a little with each breath. “You need to get your lungs looked at, Shep.”
His grunt is his reply. “Why can’t you just tell people what happened to your folks? Clear the air? If--”
“If I didn’t do it? Vickie…” He twists so that he’s leaning against the counter and I’m pressed to his front. A strong arm drapes around my back and his fingers toy with the ends of my hair. “It’s in the past. That’s all I can say. My folks are gone, and they aren’t coming back. That family is done, and you and Buck are my new family, and I will do anything necessary to protect y’all.”
“Okay.”
We cuddle and he even helps me cook dinner. When Buck comes home, we don’t say a word about Mikey or Lloyd.
We fall asleep together like we do every night.
Buck
Blue lights flashing through our small window wake me. I try not to wake Shep and Vickie as I crawl to an upright position and peek through the shades. It’s then that the cops hit their sirens, followed by an ambulance, so my stealth was for nothing. Shep bolts upright, and after some complaining, Vickie’s up, too.
There are at least three marked cars pulling into Cedar Hills along with the ambulance. Gravel flies as they stop short in front of Anne’s trailer. Vickie lets out a little gasp and tucks into me. I hold her while Shep strokes her hair.
Honestly? I’m not too upset. That asshole can be locked up forever in my opinion. But then, instead of seeing Lloyd or Anne escorted out in cuffs, the cops are bringing in cameras. The flash of their bulbs is barely noticeable through the other trailer’s blinds, but we’re close enough to see.
“What’s going on?” Vickie murmurs. “Where’s Mama?”
The way the cops are beginning to move around the outside, flashlights out and searching around the house, makes my stomach drop. Shep and I have seen this once before. This is what they do when they’re looking for evidence.
“Shit,” Shep curses as he gets out of bed. He’s yanking on his jeans and checking his wallet. “This isn’t good, Buck.”
“What’s not good?” Vickie draws the covers up around her.
Shep’s already pulling on boots, but I stop him. “If you duck out now, they’ll see you. Why are you running now?”
Guilt skates across his features, and I ball my fists. There’s something his isn’t telling me. Vickie’s hand grabs my forearm. “What’s going on? What’s happened?” Her large, chocolate eyes are wide with fright. “Shep, where are you going?”
Sinking next to her, I drape an arm around her. Shep wrestles with telling me the truth and I glare. “Spit it out, man. I can’t help you if don’t know what’s going on.”
“Lloyd and I exchanged some words yesterday.”
My back stiffens. “Some words.” Shep, what did you do?
“Long story short: Mikey told Vickie that
Lloyd’s still been mouthing off about pimping her out. So I went over to Lloyd’s and told him that if he touched her, I’d kill him.”
Gut twisting, I want to throttle him. “And of course the neighbors heard you.”
He nods. “They always do.”
Vickie’s been making these tiny whimpering sounds, but she’s a smart girl and sees where we’re going with this. Pulling away from me, she looks between the two of us. “Are you saying Lloyd’s dead?”
I don’t want to lie to her. “We don’t know, but if they were going to arrest him, they’d be gone by now.” Vickie flies from the bed and Shep and I follow her. “Vickie, where’re you--”
“I have to see if Mama is okay!” She’s grabbed the coat I bought her and is jerking it on, not bothering with pants. The coat’s long, so I don’t stop her when she goes out the door. When I was younger, I used to run to see if it was my parents every time the cops came. Before they left for good, I mean. Nothing I say could’ve stopped her.
“Shep, just come out with us. You’ll look less guilty if you’re there.” There’s an undercurrent to my tone that I don’t want to discuss. You’ll look less guilty, but are you? Quickly, I banish the thought. It’s mean and not true. Shep wouldn’t kill Lloyd. Not without telling me.
But he didn’t tell me about the fight, either.
I start out after her. “You coming?” Shep’s eyes are narrowed, and I can see the decisions he’s making on the fly. Finally, he nods. We step out into the chaos.
Vickie’s talking to a cop. It looks like Jake. He’s been on the force for as long as I can remember. His gaze flits to us and we walk over. As soon as I get close, I can see the blue lights are reflecting off Vickie’s wet face. She’s crying, her lower lip trembling. When I touch her shoulder she flings herself into me, arms wrapped tight around my waist. “She’s dead,” she wails. “They both are.”
The paramedics are carrying out the covered bodies as she tells me, the sheets staining red in places. They weren’t just dead. They were murdered.
“Nasty business,” Jake says, but his eyes are trained on Shep.
“What happened?” My voice is tight, and I’m trying to think about all of the implications this has for us and for our little family.
Trying to act casual, Jake shifts his weight and shrugs, but he’s not letting up on Shep. I know exactly what he’s thinking, because it’d been my first thought, too. “Can’t say much. We just got here and are looking around. Questioning the neighbors, you know? In fact, mind if I ask you a few questions?”
There are clumps of neighbors all around, too excited by the fuss to stay hidden in their homes. Cops are talking to them, and every now and then I can’t miss their faces and fingers pointing to Shep.
This is just like last time.
Only last time, Shep was a minor. He had his grandmother there as an alibi. Oh, and most important-- there were no bodies. It was only an assumed murder, but no case without corpses. This time there was definitely a case.
“Sure thing,” I offer. At this point, we’re fucked. If I answer questions and see what they’re considering, maybe I can save Shep. Maybe. “We didn’t see anything, though. We’ve been home all night.”
“All three of you?” Jake pulls out a pad and starts jotting notes down. He doesn’t need our names or occupations. He already knows because we all know everyone.
I nod. “I got home late. Pulled a long one with Jim. Probably got home around seven thirty? Vickie’s home all the time, and Shep’s home since the incident at the mine.”
“Yeah, I was there, too. Sorry, Shep, that must’ve been pretty scary.”
“It wasn’t a great fucking day, that’s for sure.” Shep’s so tense, unable to make eye contact, that I want to slap him. Hell, just looking at him now he looks guilty, and I know him. We were together in bed. He’d have had to sneak out real quiet in an old, creaky trailer to commit the murders. Hell, each square foot of the carpet in the hallway seemed eager to tattle when you just needed to take a piss.
“Shep,” I warn, hoping he picks up what I’m hinting at. “Jake’s just doing his job.”
Jake gives me a small smile, running a hand through his hair. “Well, yeah. I gotta ask. Speakin’ of which, Shep, I hear you had a bit of a run in with Lloyd.”
“I did.” Now Shep’s turned to Jake, like he’s daring him. I’m going to strangle him if he manages to walk home not in cuffs. “He was runnin’ his mouth about Vickie here, and I let him know that wasn’t going to work.”
“Were those your exact words?”
“Nope.”
“What were?”
Vickie’s starting to tremble in my arms. She knows what’s coming. “I told him if he talked about her, touched her, or thought about her wrong, I’d put him in the ground.”
Jake writes this down, but I’m worried. Is that a hint of a smile? The satisfaction of an open-shut murder case? “Well, Lloyd wasn’t always the most savory.”
“He was a malicious asshole who liked to whore his girlfriend,” Shep pushes.
I’m done. Glowering, I hug Vickie tighter. “Jake, does Vickie, I don’t know… need to identify the bodies or anything?”
“Naw, this ain’t like TV. It was Anne and Lloyd, no doubts there. You can look if you want, Vickie. For closure, I mean.”
She shakes her head and starts crying again. The cotton of my shirt is soaked with her tears, and I’m not wearing a coat like she is, so it feels icy. Good. I need to cool off because I’m about five seconds away from decking Shep.
“Sorry for your loss, Vickie,” Jake offers gently. Looking at Shep again, his mouth pulls in a grim line. “We’ll be bringing people from the park in for more questioning tomorrow. Best stick around for a few days.”
When Shep doesn’t answer, I do. “Will do, Jake. Good luck.”
Vickie stumbles when I start to direct her back to the trailer. I feel torn between needing to talk some goddamned sense into Shep and trying to comfort my girl, who just lost her mom. Yeah, her mom was a bitch. There’s no love lost there for me. But Vickie’s sweet. Forgiving. And while she’s been practically glowing since moving out of Anne’s trailer, I get it. I had to mourn my parents, too, and they were bastards.
Once we’re inside, Shep locks the door and leans against it, eyes shut. “Fuck, man.”
Escorting Vickie to the couch, I ease her out of her coat and help her sink into the cushions. “You weren’t exactly helping your case out there, Shep,” I mumble out of the side of my mouth. The blond of Vickie’s hair makes her tear-streaked face look paler. Dark purple circles are blooming under her brown eyes.
She’s getting ready for a serious crying jag.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you looked guilty as hell out there, Shep!” Standing, I wheel on him. “Your face all but said you did it!”
The temperature drops fast in the room. “You think I did?” There’s a menace to his voice I haven’t heard before.
Do I? Not really. Shep’s tough, and he’s had it hard. With the stress of the cave in, I know he’s been on edge. That combination of almost losing his life and then being stuck at home, forced to think about it instead of work, has made him a bit of an asshole. But the Shep I know is dangerous in a bar fight. He’s dangerous if you scratch his car. He ain’t murdering dangerous, I don’t think. “No, I don’t. But for fuck’s sake, you didn’t do yourself any favors with Jake!”
“Please,” he gripes. “They think I did it. This whole park, this whole fucking town thinks I’m a murderer. You just asked me not too long ago if I killed my parents. My parents, Buck! I was convicted for this shit before it even happened.”
I want to fight more, but Vickie’s wail stops us. “Stop it! Stop fighting, I can’t stand it.” We back off, but both of us are strung tight. There’s a tenuous quality to the moment that I despise, like we’re one second from snapping. “My mom’s dead,” she whispers, tucking into herself.
“Shep--” I pause, not knowing how to finish. Apologize? For what? For loving his stupid ass? For not wanting him to go down?
He shakes his head, forgiving me. Who knows what I did that needed forgiving, but for now, it feels like we’ll be okay. “Take Vickie to bed and see if y’all can catch some sleep.” He goes and grabs a beer from the fridge, the hiss as he pops the top as final as a gavel.
“What’re you gonna do?” He’s still too tense, and I’m afraid for him. For us.
“Watch TV. Can’t sleep now, and besides, they’ll come ask questions soon. Might as well be up and ready.”
“Wake us up if they do,” I warn. “I don’t want you facing them alone.”
“What would you do? Fight your way out?” He jokes. “But I’ll get you.”
Scooping Vickie up, I carry her to our bed. We lay down together. In the dark, her sobs and sniffles keep me company. My hand strokes her hair, her back. There aren’t any words that I think would make her feel better, so I just stay quiet. If I’m being truthful, I’m also listening, worried about Shep.
But the TV is on, and I can hear him settle in on the couch.
Before long, sleep comes.
Vickie
Shep’s gone. Buck is angry, cussing and punching the walls. I’m just worried. Last night I cried all I was going to for my mama. She’d hurt me too much for me to really miss her. But she didn’t deserve the end she got.
Now that I’m done mourning, though, I’m real worried about Shep. His Camaro is gone, and he left a note scrawled on the table that just says “Take care of Vickie. Call you when I’m able.”
I am sitting on the couch and fingering the note while Buck rages. Finally, his anger wears me down. “Buck, stop.”
“Why would he run? Running just solidifies to the cops that he did it!”
“You heard him last night. He wasn’t wrong. They’re going to think he did it, no matter what. Maybe he’s just giving them time to look properly and find the real killer.”