The Secrets of Rosa Lee

by Jodi Thomas

  She tasted his food. He ate off her plate complaining that she needed more hot sauce on everything. They drank coffee for so long that the third time the waitress came around, Sloan ordered sopaipillas so they wouldn’t have to leave.

  The fried bread tasted like refrigerator biscuits dropped in the fryer, but Sidney didn’t complain.

  He asked about her years in Chicago and where she’d gone to school. His questions were easy to answer, nothing too personal. He talked about his college days at Texas Tech and the semester he forgot to go to one class. To his surprise, the instructor failed him, putting him on academic suspension.

  When she looked shocked, he claimed it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t find the classroom. She laughed until tears came when he told her his dad was so angry he made him drive a cattle truck back and forth from the feed lot to the packing house for an entire semester, hoping to teach him something about direction.

  Finally, when the waitress refilled their coffee and told them it was closing time, he lifted his cup in salute. “I don’t know when I’ve had such a fine dinner, Dr. Dickerson.”

  “Me, either,” she admitted. “I’m still not crazy about Mexican food, but I enjoyed the company.”

  “You looking forward to the day off tomorrow?”

  Sidney nodded. “I thought I’d drive over to Wichita Falls. There’s a nurse in a retirement home over there who I’d like to visit with.”

  “The nurse who found Rosa Lee’s body?”

  She realized she’d said the comment casually, innocently, but he’d picked up on it.

  A man of details, she reminded herself. Was he hunting for information, or only making conversation? It crossed her mind how little she knew about him despite all his tales.

  “Yes,” she said slowly.

  He got the hint. “I wasn’t trying to cross-examine you, Sidney. Only putting two and two together.”

  “I know,” she answered, a bit too quickly.

  He stood and dropped a few bills on the table, picked up the check and paid at the counter. They walked to his truck without saying a word.

  The spell had been broken without either of them bringing up the vote to come. What hadn’t been said hung between them like a declaration of war. He started the engine and flipped the radio on low, obviously uneasy with the silence.

  He didn’t ask where she lived, but drove to her bungalow beside the campus. Sloan managed to pick the right one in the row of ten even though her porch light wasn’t on and he couldn’t have seen the number.

  When he reached her side of the truck, she’d already slid off the seat and stood with both feet firm on the ground. Where they should have been all evening, she reminded herself.

  “Thank you for the dinner,” she said as he walked her to her door.

  “You’re welcome,” he answered formally.

  When he reached the first step of her porch, he removed his hat and looked down. “I enjoyed the evening. That’s the first meal I’ve had in two weeks where I could talk to someone.”

  She almost added, “Me, too.” She usually ate in front of the TV watching the evening news. Somehow that made it seem as if she weren’t eating alone.

  He was halfway down the walk when she finally said, “Would you like to come with me to Wichita Falls tomorrow? I forgot to buy you that meal I said I’d buy.” The old saying about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer came to mind.

  He turned and smiled. “What time?”

  “Nine.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  She opened the screen door and pulled out her key. “Until then,” she said, already worrying that she may have made a wrong move. But he had volunteered information about her grandmother and he’d been straightforward about his interest in the committee. The question remained, was he being honest about his interest in her?

  “Until then,” he echoed, then tipped his hat in farewell.

  As she turned the knob and shoved the door, a yellow piece of paper fell out from where it had been slipped into the facing.

  Sidney watched it float down to the porch without trying to catch it as Sloan’s truck roared to life and he pulled away.

  She’d already guessed what it would say. She didn’t have to look.

  Let the house fall.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  After the endless committee meeting, Billy Hatcher needed to work his muscles and let his brain relax. He changed clothes in the gym dressing room at the Y and caught the last half of a self-defense class for senior citizens. The best thing about being a member was that he could attend all classes. He might be sleeping on the back porch at Rosa Lee’s house, but he had a place to shower and relax.

  The sheriff had stepped in as the instructor for the night, so Billy knew he’d be welcomed in class.

  By the time Billy walked on the mats offering to help, most of the citizens were tired and trying to ask questions about everything so Sheriff Farrington wouldn’t give them any more exercises to do. Billy stretched using the breathing methods he’d learned in other classes as he listened to the sheriff try to fend off personal inquiries.

  Granger Farrington explained that his wife was attending her baby shower and all husbands had been told to stay away. He complained about it, but everyone knew he went along with whatever Meredith asked him to do. He even admitted to volunteering for a night shift so Meredith and her friends could all go over and decorate the baby’s room after the shower.

  Twice, he tried to get the class back on track, but finally gave up, ending with having them all yell “call 911” if they suspected trouble. While the seniors visited, the sheriff moved over to Billy. Having both been in the aikido classes together for a year, they moved easily into a workout.

  Granger was stronger, more powerful, more advanced, but he wouldn’t be for long. Billy had figured out within days of his first lesson in this art of self-defense that he learned more when practicing with someone better than himself. He could go through the steps, the breathing, the strength training alone, but he needed to practice with someone who challenged him.

  When the sheriff easily twisted and knocked Billy to the mat, several of the senior citizens looked up in alarm. Farrington offered his hand and pulled Billy to his feet and smiled. Several in the class began to watch.

  “Move through to conclusion the next time.” Granger’s order was kind. “Remember, once you set your course, no hesitation.”

  An hour later, both men were sweating and laughing. Billy had managed to knock the sheriff off his feet twice. Before long, he’d take every other fall.

  “You’re good, son.”

  “Thanks.” Billy swung, almost tripping Granger. He liked it when the sheriff called him “son” even though Farrington wasn’t old enough to be his father. He respected the man as much for what he didn’t do when he could have as for what he did. If Sheriff Farrington had been a different kind of cop, Billy knew he’d be spending time in jail right now. But, without Billy saying a word in his own defense, Granger had sized up the situation and brought Billy in on a lesser charge when stolen goods were found in his father’s garage. The deputy had assumed the worst but Granger had given Billy a chance without overwhelming him with lectures. He’d let the boy stand as a man.

  Now, they were friends enough to tease. “Maybe it’s not me, Sheriff.” Billy laughed. “Maybe you’re just getting old and slow.”

  Granger shifted, flattening Billy to the mat once more. “Not for a few years.”

  When the sheriff helped Billy up, he asked, “You doing anything tonight, Hatcher? Must not have a date if you’re hanging around here.”

  “Typical Friday night on the wild side.”

  “How about riding along with me on rounds when we’re cleaned up?”

  Billy raised both eyebrows. “In the front seat?”

  Granger laughed. “In the front seat.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Billy sat in the passenger side of Sheriff Farrington’s squad car. Everything wa
s in order and Granger was all business, even a little more bossy than usual. “Never drive the same route at the same time of day. Rounds are essential every night in a town this size, but never be predictable.”

  Billy was surprised the sheriff sounded as if he were still instructing a class.

  “Never let down your guard, no matter how calm the night looks. One mistake could mean your life. A badge doesn’t make you invisible. In fact, it could make you a target.”

  Billy shifted uneasily.

  “It’s wise to keep the tank at least half-full and all weapons loaded.”

  Billy twisted as far as he could in his seat belt. “All right. You can cut the instructor talk. I didn’t know you invited me along to practice lecturing for your next recruit.”

  Granger smiled. “That is exactly what I’m doing. Only, I’m not practicing.” He stopped the car in front of the station. “I’m asking, poorly I guess, if you’d be interested in working with me. You’d have to take several classes at the college, but I could put you on part-time on weekends, manning the office. Depending on how fast you can finish the classes, I’d like you to be a full deputy within two years, tops.”

  Billy couldn’t form words. He figured he’d be working for the lumberyard until he was as old as Sam Davis. He liked working with wood and didn’t mind doing the jobs no one else wanted. He thought, with his record, he was lucky to have any job. If he kept his nose clean, maybe in a few years he’d save enough to buy a trailer and build on until it looked like a real house.

  “You’re offering me a job?” he finally managed to say.

  “More than that, son,” Granger said. “I’m offering you a career. One you’ll never get rich doing. One where you’ll hear far more complaints than praise. But one you can be proud doing. If money’s a problem, I’ll pay your first semester’s tuition and then deduct it from your wages. For a while, you could still work at the lumberyard, take classes a few nights a week and work for me on weekends.”

  “That doesn’t leave much time for getting in trouble.”

  Granger laughed. “True. What do you say?” The sheriff offered his hand.

  Billy took it. “Thanks.” He wanted to ask why, but didn’t dare.

  “It won’t be easy, but like they say, nothing worth having ever is.” Granger put the car in gear and continued on his rounds. “You’ll have to find an apartment somewhere. You’ll need an address on the application.”

  “How’d you know?” Billy only went home to his dad’s house when he had to. He hadn’t bothered to show up when Billy had been arrested and barely talked to him when his son came by. With the shower at the Y he planned to stay away until the weather made sleeping out impossible. “What about my record?”

  “It’ll give you headaches for a few years, but you’ll outgrow it. The lumberyard says you never miss a day, and by the time you finish school you’ll have enough experience to go anywhere you want and work on a force.” Granger glanced at Billy. “But, you’ve got to keep your nose clean until then. No fights. No problems. You even show up at the wrong place at the wrong time, it won’t look good.”

  “I understand.” Billy had a feeling this was a onetime offer. “When do I start?”

  Granger laughed. “Come by tomorrow morning. I’ll be in the office working on paperwork. We’ll get all the forms filled out and I’ll show you around. If you survive six months and a semester of classes, I’ll put you in uniform.”

  Billy was silent a long while. “Thanks isn’t enough,” he finally said, fully realizing the sheriff had just changed his life.

  “You’ll do the same one day for another,” Granger said. “I just did.”

  Billy suddenly understood the sheriff and where he’d come from.

  They rode in silence for a while then casually they began to talk. Billy had a million questions about the law. They turned onto Cemetery Road and headed back toward town.

  With an unexpected jerk, Granger pulled his patrol car off the road into brown weeds as high as his window.

  “Stay here.” The sheriff cut the engine and rolled both front windows down a few inches. “Don’t move until I get back. I didn’t plan on this tonight.”

  As he climbed from the car, he kicked at a dried tumbleweed while he unbuckled his belt and laid his revolver over the seat. After putting his hat inside, he leaned down and ordered, “Lock the door and don’t open it unless I say so. I don’t want to scare the rustlers into thinking they’re surrounded.”

  Billy could feel his heart in his throat. He thought of reaching for the gun. He’d feel better holding it. But the sheriff hadn’t handed it to him, he’d left it in the seat.

  He watched as the sheriff stepped through the barbed-wire fence that framed the sides of the cemetery. The lawman’s shadow moved between the graves, but Billy couldn’t hear or see much of anything else.

  Finally, after endless minutes passed, voices drifted on the cold wind. “Get that one!”

  “No don’t cut there.”

  “Oh, you’re doing it all wrong.”

  “Let me have the sharper knife.”

  Billy locked his fingers together. Part of him wanted to go help the sheriff. Pretty much all of him voted for picking up the gun, but he knew he’d better follow orders.

  Maybe this was a test, he thought. If he moved, Granger would take back his job offer.

  “Grab that one!” a woman’s voice yelled.

  “Don’t tell me what to do!”

  Billy tried to place the angry voices. He’d heard them before. But then, he’d heard everyone in town before.

  “Look at you. You’ve got mud all over your shoes,” one said.

  “How do you know that?” another asked. “I can’t see a thing out here.”

  “Well, I can. I’ve got the sight of a cat in the dark.”

  “How do you know what a cat sees in the dark?”

  Billy stared as two rounded shadows came into view and the voices registered in his mind. Both carried buckets and what looked like weapons. The Rogers sisters.

  The sheriff’s order came from somewhere in the darkness. “All right ladies, put down your shovels, knives and buckets. I’m taking you in this time.”

  One of the sisters swung her knife, looking like a samurai bobble doll. “We’re not going in!”

  The other bumped her with her shoulder. “Oh, stop it Ada May. You’ll frighten the sheriff. He’s not going to arrest us.”

  Granger moved from the shadows. “Oh, yes I am. I’ve warned you two for the last time.”

  Billy watched, feeling as though he were in some kind of alternate universe where little old ladies fought the cops.

  The sheriff herded them toward the patrol car. “You can’t go around cutting branches off other people’s plants. Not even those in a cemetery.”

  “But we’re Rose Rustlers,” Beth Ann answered. “Haven’t you heard of our group? The first rule is to be polite and ask.”

  “And we did,” Ada May interrupted. “Not a soul answered, so we figured it was all right.”

  “I’ve heard of your group, but nowhere does the Web site say you are allowed to steal roses from cemeteries that have No Trespassing signs posted after dark.”

  Beth Ann handed over her knife. “But no one will let us cut them during the day.”

  Ada May moved her bucket behind her. “Besides, we’re not doing any harm. We’re only taking a few clippings.”

  “Billy,” Granger shouted. “Open the back doors. We’re taking these women to jail.”

  Even Billy wanted to argue, but he thought it wise to keep his mouth closed. As he helped the old maids into the back, both thanked him and told him what a nice young man he was.

  Granger locked their buckets and knives up in the trunk and drove toward town. The women complained all the way. Ada May insisted she knew her rights, but then couldn’t list any when the sheriff asked, except the right to remain silent. Beth Ann worried about whether or not the sheriff got the mud off the kni
fe because she feared it might dull the blade if it was allowed to dry. She wanted him to stop the car and check.

  Granger helped them up the back stairs at the station. Billy watched as he handcuffed them together and pulled out a long piece of paper from his right desk drawer. If he was trying to frighten them, he had his work cut out for him.

  Billy leaned against the counter and listened, wondering what this lawman he always thought had good sense planned to do with his latest two criminals.

  “We get one phone call,” Ada May demanded. “I know the law.”

  “Okay.” Granger turned the phone around so she could reach it. “Who you going to wake up after midnight, Miss Rogers?”

  Ada May thought a minute and turned to her sister. “You still got that card with the number on it?”

  “Not him!” Beth Ann put her hand over her heart.

  “He’s already helped us once. After what we did, he probably couldn’t think much lower of us. Maybe he’ll help us again?”

  “You threw up in his car,” Beth Ann whispered.

  “Well, you stripped,” Ada May whispered back as the sheriff tried to act as if he didn’t hear and Billy turned red.

  Beth Ann passed her sister the card and Ada May dialed a number. “Hello, Reverend Parker. Did I wake you?”

  Dumb question, Billy thought.

  “It’s Ada May Rogers and there’s been a misunderstanding on Sheriff Granger’s part. We need an angel of mercy to bail us out. Would you come down and tell the man that we are not criminals?”

  Ada May waited a few seconds and hung up the phone.

  “Is this angel of mercy coming?” Granger asked.

  “I think so. He dropped the phone,” she answered.

  Beth Ann moved forward in her chair. “I get a phone call, too.”

  Granger’s stern frown cracked. “Who do you want to wake up, Miss Beth Ann?”

  “No one. I want to call Randi at the bar. I’m sure she’s still awake.”

  Granger shoved the phone closer to the second sister in crime. “Go ahead. If nothing else, Randi will get a kick out of this.”

  After the second call, the sheriff tried to explain how dangerous it was for two women of their age to be tromping around in the mud at midnight. He didn’t want to take legal action, but since they didn’t seem to understand the word stop, he saw no other choice.