by Hope Ramsay
“You’re lying.” He pulled her away from the wall and began dragging her across the floor toward the kitchen, where her satchel purse rested on the table. “Dump it out,” he directed.
She did as she was told, and he pawed through the contents of her purse in much the same way that Clay had pawed through them last Thursday morning. He picked up her green leather wallet with the flower on it. “Open it.”
She opened the wallet and dumped the contents of the billfold and change purse, which consisted of about thirty dollars and one 1943 wheat penny. Woody picked up the thirty bucks and stuffed it in his pocket. He ignored the penny.
Jane didn’t.
When the penny hit the Formica tabletop, Jane almost lost whatever shred of composure she still possessed. All she could think about was the day Clay had found that penny and put it in her hand. And ever since then, her luck had changed.
So she picked up the penny and pressed it in her fist like it was a talisman. And since Woody saw it as only a penny, he didn’t give her any crap or otherwise shoot her head off for picking it up.
She squeezed that lucky penny and winged a prayer skyward—not to the Universe, but to the God of the Christ Church Ladies Auxiliary. She prayed to that God to keep Clay and Haley and everyone she cared about in Last Chance—even Stone Rhodes—safe from the menace she had brought down upon them. And just for good measure, she asked God to please, please help her out of this jam.
Woody gave her another head-rattling shake. It reminded her that she had never actually had any kind of relationship with the Almighty, and if she wanted to be rescued, she was going to have to do it for herself. Right now. She needed to get Woody out of this apartment before Ruby and Haley got there.
“Am I going to have to turn this place upside down?” he hissed in her ear.
“No,” she said firmly, willing herself to be calm, to invest her voice with authority and to lie like hell. Jane was a terrible liar, but she bucked herself up and sold her lie with all the straight-faced conviction of a politician running for election. “It’s not here. We put it in a safe place.”
“Where?”
“In Columbia. In a safe-deposit box at the First National Bank.” She was extemporizing, and she hoped there was a First National Bank in Columbia.
“I don’t see a safe-deposit box key here. Where’s the key, Mary?”
Oops—that was a major hole in her story. She thought fast. She just needed to buy a few minutes, and Haley and Ruby would be safe. “The key is hidden outside of town. The tenth hole at Golfing for God.” She said the first thing that came to mind.
She had never been to Golfing for God, of course, but she knew it had a tenth hole depicting the birth of Jesus. Friday afternoon, Haley and Lizzy had given Jane a complete run-down of all the holes at Golfing for God, starting with Adam and Eve and ending with the Resurrection. “The key is hidden in the manger with baby Jesus,” she added for good measure, remembering how Haley had described the crèche scene, and the angel that looked over it.
“Golfing for God?” Woody sounded skeptical.
“It’s a roadside attraction about three miles outside of town on Route 321. I’ll take you there.”
“Okay, baby, but I swear if you’re lying, I’m going to knock the crap out of you and strangle you for good measure.”
Jane tried to think positively about this turn of events, but it was kind of hard. She had convinced him to leave the apartment and save Ruby and Haley. That was a good thing. On the other hand, she figured she had less than an hour to live.
“Okay, baby, let’s go. The Colombian’s goons are on my tail, and I need that necklace quick. You understand me?” He didn’t put the gun away, but at least he stopped pointing it at her head.
Woody snagged Jane by the upper arm, put the pistol up against her spine, and half-dragged her to the apartment’s door. She tried to quell her fears with the thought that her lie had worked. In five minutes—maybe less, depending on where Woody had parked his car—they would be gone, and Haley and Ruby would be safe.
He opened the door, and they headed down the metal fire stairs. And with a predictability Jane had to admire, the Universe took that moment to throw another monkey wrench into the works. Ruby Rhodes had already pulled her Ford Taurus into the alley, and she was just getting out of her car.
Clay’s mother stood by the open car door and looked up at Jane, taking in the disheveled, unshaven, Hawaiian-shirt-wearing Woody West.
“Run like hell,” Jane yelled. “Get Stony, quick.”
Ruby hesitated for one instant. And that little hesitation proved utterly disastrous.
CHAPTER 19
So if this is all settled, can I go, please? I’ve got some unfinished business to attend to,” Clay said to Stone and Sheriff Bennett. They had just corroborated his alibi with Amy Swallock, and both law officers were looking somewhat chastened.
Apparently Betty Wilkins was missing, and folks were putting two and two together and coming up with a larger number than four. So Miz Miriam had worked some kind of magic and matched up Betty and Ray. It had to be some kind of miracle.
A commotion in the outer office interrupted the interrogation, and Clay reckoned it had to be Momma arriving to the rescue, right on schedule. She probably had Aunt Arlene and Uncle Pete in tow, seeing as the two of them were supposed to have returned from Minnesota yesterday. He had a feeling Uncle Pete would not be amused with Alex.
Clay was feeling especially smug and looking forward to completing his conversation with Jane just as soon as he could hotfoot it back to the Cut ’n Curl.
But instead of Momma and Uncle Pete charging in, Deputy Chief Easley poked his head into the room. “Uh, Stone, we got us a problem out here.”
“It’s not my mother?” Stone asked.
Damian shook his head. “No, it’s a couple of guys from the FBI, and they have a warrant for Jane Coblentz’s arrest, but the warrant says Mary Smith on it. And y’all won’t believe this, but Mary Smith, aka Jane Coblentz, just happens to be the girl in that pinup photo we found in Ray’s locker—you know, from Working Girls Go Wild.”
Clay exploded from his chair. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
Stone stood up, too, and grabbed Clay by the shoulder before he could rush out into the reception area and confront a couple of G-men and get himself into real trouble.
Damian shrugged. “They got a copy of that pinup photo. They say the woman in that photo is Mary Smith, and they believe she’s involved in some kind of jewel heist. It sure does look like our Jane.”
Sheriff Bennett made a beeline for the door. Clay made to follow, but Stone yanked on his shoulder.
“Lemme go, Stone. Quit being a jerk. I love that woman.” Clay tried to twist away, but Stone pulled a move on him that put him down on his backside looking up.
“You’re the one acting like an jerk,” Stone said. “Just cool your head for five minutes and let me see what this is all about. And as for loving that woman, shoot, boy, you’ve known her for what, four days? Gimme a break.” He pointed down at Clay. “You stay here, or I’ll have to break one of your bones, and I really don’t want to do that.”
Stone let Clay go and turned his back, which Clay took as a sign of filial trust. That and the fact that Clay knew Stone would probably break one of his bones if he made any sudden moves.
So he didn’t. He just lay there feeling like someone had put a hole right through the middle of his chest.
And that’s when the radio dispatch in the outer office went haywire with the news that someone had been shot in downtown Last Chance.
Jane tried hard not to let fear paralyze her. It sure did look like this was going to be her last day on earth. She told the Universe that she was okay with that. Just so long as both of them worked together to make sure that nothing bad happened to little Haley Rhodes.
The Universe, as usual, had a different plan in mind. Or maybe there was no pattern in the Universe. Maybe life was just ra
ndom.
That was a frightening thought, but one Jane didn’t have time to dwell on. She was too consumed with gut-wrenching guilt over what had just happened to Ruby. Clay’s ma should have run like the wind, but she hadn’t run. She had frozen for one instant—just long enough for Woody to raise his pistol and fire a round at her.
Ruby went down and didn’t make another sound. Then Woody hauled Jane down the remaining stairs and shoved her right into Ruby’s Taurus. The keys were still in the ignition.
Jane figured things couldn’t get any worse, until she spied Haley curled up into a tiny little ball on the floor of the backseat. The sight made her sick and dizzy with fear.
Luckily, Woody hadn’t seen the child. And Haley, bless her heart, had the presence of mind not to say a word or whimper or otherwise give herself away. Which meant the seven-year-old was smarter than your average child. Or maybe she was merely scared to death.
Jane figured it was probably a little bit of both. That thought made her heart rate spike, and her throat close up, and her world tilt sideways on its axis. How could the Universe do this to Haley and Ruby? They didn’t deserve this.
Woody pulled the car out through the alley and turned right on Palmetto, heading south in the direction of Golfing for God.
“Where the hell is this place?” Woody said as he floored the Taurus and broke every speed limit in town. Jane didn’t reply. Instead she prayed that Damian Easley and Stone Rhodes were paying attention, like they always did. A minute went by without any sirens sounding. Obviously, God and the Cosmos were still not listening.
Her chest felt so tight she was having trouble breathing. Time was running out on her. Jane looked up at the big dark cloud that had filled the sky and knew she would probably never see the sunshine again.
“Woody, you need to think things through,” she said around the knot in her throat. Her voice wavered, and she hated herself for her weakness. She gulped down air and continued. “You’re in big trouble now. That woman you just shot was the mother of the police chief.”
“Shut up, you’re just trying to confuse me.” He looked at the rearview mirror. “Shit.”
Jane looked behind her, and sure enough, a dark Cadillac had pulled in behind them. It had Florida tags.
This was not a good sign.
“I’ll bet those are the Colombian’s goons back there, baby. They want their money, and I don’t have it. The Cambodian Camel is the only way I’m going to survive. So you better not be lying to me, you understand?” Woody brandished the gun.
“Have you thought of reasoning with those men?” she asked in a voice that sounded much stronger than before. It was funny how her heart was still hammering, but her head was clearing. The main thing she needed to focus on right now was getting Woody away from the car. She sure hoped Haley had the presence of mind to stay put and go unnoticed.
Woody stared over at her and then back at the road. “Those goons don’t reason, you should realize that by now.”
“But I know where the necklace is.” In the backseat, you idiot, around the neck of a terrified little girl. Jane tried to think of some way to get that necklace and use it as a bargaining chip without letting anyone know Haley was back there, but there was no real hope of that. So she kept talking.
“Slow down, Woody, that’s Golfing for God right up there on the left,” she said. Maybe Haley would be smart enough to leave the car and hide once Jane got Woody away from it. Jane prayed a little harder to the God who never listened. Sweet Jesus, help that little girl.
Right then, the skies opened up. A veritable sheet of water fell down from the heavens and pummeled the windshield with a deafening roar. The road vanished from view before Woody could put on the wipers. Woody slammed on the brakes.
And since he had been doing eighty in a car with tires that Ruby Rhodes had been nagging her husband to replace for the last six months, he went into a skid.
The car slid sideways, and the certainty of death scrolled through Jane’s mind in slow motion. She was going to die, and there was nothing she could do about it.
But Woody surprised her. He turned into the skid, and the Taurus twisted over the wet pavement, tires squealing. Woody cut a perfect doughnut right there on Route 321.
In some corner of her mind, Jane started to feel hope. Maybe she wouldn’t die—at least not in a car wreck. The gray, rain-soaked scenery flashed sideways across the windshield, but Woody had the skid under control. It would be okay.
Only in the next instant, as they completed the 360-degree skid, a large Country Pride Chicken truck materialized out of the rain coming right at them in the opposite direction.
The truck swerved to the right across the Golfing for God parking lot. Jane watched with a kind of detached fascination as the chicken truck plowed head-on into the twenty-foot statue of Jesus Christ at the golf course’s entrance. The statue, already weakened by hurricane-force winds, toppled sideways in slow motion and landed right in front of Ruby’s Taurus. The Savior bounced and cracked on the blacktop as it hit.
The impact knocked the breath right out of Jane as her seatbelt snugged down and the airbag deployed. Pain and pressure flared across her shoulder and hips, and in some surprised part of her mind, she realized, even before the sound of bending metal died away, that she would survive this crash.
As the car jarred to a stop and the airbag deflated, all Jane’s rattled brain could absorb was the sight of dozens of chickens, flying feathers, and the raucous sound of clucking.
Then her brain remembered that chickens were not the only ones in peril. Haley was on the floor in the back, not protected by a seatbelt or an airbag. A new wave of fear and remorse washed through her.
Instinct took over then. She gave one glance over at Woody. A gash had opened in his head, and he was bleeding pretty badly, but she felt no remorse for him.
Jane unbuckled herself, opened her door, and stepped out into a torrential rain that soaked her to the skin. She opened the back door of the Taurus, just as a crack of lightning struck.
She jumped, and the flock of newly released chickens screeched. The little hairs on the back of her neck and along her arm danced. That lightning had hit way too close for comfort.
Jane forced herself not to worry. She had to get Haley. She had to make certain the little girl was okay.
She found the child down on the floor of the Taurus and hauled her out into the rain. The seven-year-old had a scrape across her head and the beginning of a bump on her right temple. She was breathing, but she wasn’t entirely conscious. She gave a little moan as the water hit her face.
Jane almost raged out loud and pumped her fist at the tempest and the Universe. But she didn’t have time for that.
The Cadillac with Florida tags pulled into the parking lot, and four big guys got out of it. In unison they reached into their suit jackets.
In that instant, Jane’s plans became pretty simple and basic. She needed to gather up that baby and run like hell.
Stony’s cruiser shot up Palmetto Avenue with the siren going and lights flashing. Clay raced it on foot, dodging raindrops, as he headed toward the Cut ’n Curl. Dodging the rain soon became as impossible as dodging the truth.
Damn Jane Coblentz and damn his big brother and damn his rotten luck. Why did bad stuff always have to happen right when things were starting to look up? For one split second this morning, he’d had this feeling like God or some benign force had reached down and touched his life. Everything had been perfect.
He was in love with Jane. And Ray, it would seem, had escaped in the arms of the curvaceous Betty Wilkins.
And then Damian Easley had opened that door, and everything unraveled.
Pain burned in Clay’s chest, and it wasn’t just from running like a crazy man, frantic to get to his mother, who, according to the county dispatcher, had been shot.
No, his chest burned with all kinds of emotions: hurt and disgust and deep, deep disappointment.
Lightning streaked across t
he black sky, and with the crackle of electricity, his emotions distilled down to fear. Fear that his momma might be dead or dying. Fear that his niece might be dead, too. And absolute terror that Jane was responsible.
Clay wasn’t strong enough to handle this. He could feel his emotions bubbling up through his system, torn between loyalty to his family and Jane Coblentz, jewel thief and pinup girl.
Why would the Lord send him a woman like this to love? He wanted to settle down somewhere and raise a couple of kids with someone he could grow old with. He wanted a simple life. Clay didn’t really want to go back to Nashville. Truth be told, there were a lot of positives to living in Last Chance, where everyone cared about him, even if everyone also seemed to have their noses firmly poked into his business.
Clay huffed and puffed his way down the alley to the Cut ’n Curl’s parking lot. The scene looked like something right out of a television cop show. Cop cars and ambulances were converging on the scene with their sirens going and their lights a bright-colored smear against the rain and the tears filling up Clay’s eyes.
He backhanded the water from his eyes and then elbowed his way through the throng of cops to get to his momma. She sprawled on the wet pavement, blood pouring from a wound in her right temple. Stony was on her right side holding her hand tight. Seeing Momma’s blood all over Stone’s hands and the wet pavement turned Clay’s fear into fury.
Clay slid down to his knees beside his big brother and leaned over Momma. An EMT, kneeling on the other side of her, held a bandage to the wound on her head. The EMT screamed above the roar of the storm that they needed to make room for his partner. Clay didn’t budge. He was paralyzed by fury and grief and about a dozen other emotions he couldn’t name.
Momma’s eyelids fluttered.
The EMT shouted that she was conscious.
She looked up at Stone with a glazed, unfocused look. “Jane,” she whispered and blinked in the rain. Clay could see her trying to focus on Stone’s face, but her pupils were dilated unevenly. “A gun… Haley’s in danger.” She closed her eyes, and the color drained from her face.