by Cait Jarrod
For Charlene and Henry’s sake, Larry hated that his hunch about Andrew was right.
“It’s Rona you should be talking to,” Hulk muttered, spit flying out of his mouth. “She’s screwing the old fart.”
“What about the marijuana? Where is it grown?” Larry drilled.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t know?” Jake straightened and braced his hands on the table in front of him “Or won’t tell?”
Hulk’s face turned ashen. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Better spill,” Larry advised.
“I don’t know where it is now. They had it in an underground room, but they made me load it onto the back of a truck. That’s all I know.”
“Who are they?” Larry asked in a calm tone when he felt everything but. Getting the information out of the guy was like his mother listening to reason. It just didn’t happen.
“The two cock-fighters we’ve been talking about and some others.”
Jake cleared his throat, obviously trying to keep his composure, too. “Who’s Kevin Steele?”
Hulk groaned. “Man, I can’t give up my crib.”
“You better or you’ll be finding a whole new bed to sleep in,” Larry said.
Several minutes went by. Tears watered the guy’s eyes. “Monk.”
Larry and Jake eyed each other.
One mystery down, several to go, Larry released a breath. “Why the small metal sheets nailed to the trees in the field closest to the road?”
“I don’t know. I’m not aware of the reasons. I’m just told what to do.”
“Uh-huh,” Jake said, “Did you dig the holes, too?”
“And cage snakes in them?” Larry asked.
Tears slid down Hulk’s face. “What? No, man. I didn’t touch no snake. I dug the holes with the tractor and post-hole digger. Others helped dig the rest by hand. Man, I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“We’ll be back,” Jake said, rising. “The cuffs will stay off but the door is locked, so don’t try anything.”
They left the room. Jake swiped another packet of donuts and a soda from the snack area and opened the door to speak to Rona.
Her hands were cuffed in front of her. Tears mixed with mascara streaked her face. The hood that had covered her purple and pink hair rested on her back. The Impalers hat lay on the table. She eyed them through long eyelashes and thick makeup. “Why am I handcuffed?”
Jake unlocked her cuffs and gave her the food and drink. “Tell us about your boyfriend, Allen Mathews.”
Her eyes shifted from one to the other. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Figured he was since you’re banging him,” Jake said, sitting down beside her.
For several minutes she stared at the donuts in her hand, then finally, she peeled off the wrapper and ate one. “We’ve been seeing each other.”
“It’s like this,” Larry sat in a chair across the table, “either you’re honest with us or you’ll go down with Mathews.”
“He’s not involved in anything illegal.”
“That’s not what you told me yesterday.”
“Well, yesterday, he scared me. He was talking all crazy and shit. We’re not doing anything criminal.”
Larry arched a brow. “Come again? You’re growing marijuana illegally.”
She stared at her clutched hands. “He’s not like the others.”
“How’s that?” Jake asked. “He’s competing with Monk to be boss.”
She played with the wrapper. “I want a lawyer.”
“Do you think you need one?” Jake asked. “We’re not pressing charges…not at the moment.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong.” She turned to Larry. “I thought we were working together.”
“Not telling me everything is lying by omission,” Larry said. “You wanted my help. I did what I said I would, then I find out that you and Mouse are an item. Care to explain why you didn’t tell me?”
“I couldn’t do the ratting.”
Larry studied her for a few moments. What she said made sense. She didn’t look the type to be mixed up with criminal activity, neither did Hulk. “I believe you,” Larry said. “But the people you consider friends will pull you farther down the hole to hell. If you want out, level with us, we’ll help.”
She studied them, the same way Hulk did before he started talking. These kids were amateurs. Probably came from dysfunctional families and ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time. The same thing could have happened to him so easily.
“Allen has a plan to remove Monk as leader. What he said scared me.”
“Which is?” Jake leaned closer, his eyes narrowed to slits.
“Mathews is waiting for the big deal to go down and hopes the FBI will show up.”
“What’s the big deal?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know.” Her head moved so fast, it vibrated.
“You’re holding back,” Larry demanded. “Coughing up what you know can only help you.”
She searched their faces for a few seconds. “Some guys, bad ones, are coming in today.” Her voice trembled. “Allen said The Impalers needed to beef up their game. Some rough guys, mean ones, are arriving from Louisiana.”
Larry’s sixth sense intensified a couple of notches, creating an unusual hollowness in the pit of his stomach.
“What guys?” Jake’s shoulders went rigid, his jaw ticked, and the pulse in his neck jumped with the sudden strain in his voice.
“The Black Scorpions.”
“Mother-fucker!” Jake bolted upright, fists clenched as he darted out of the room.
Adrenaline raced through Larry’s system as he charged out the door after Jake. The Black Scorpions had played havoc with Jake’s family. Afraid his friend would go off halfcocked, Larry motioned to Missy to stay alert and headed into his office where Jake paced.
“Settle down.” Larry said, closing the door. “You won’t be able to think rationally if you don’t.”
Jake whipped around, his eyes red. “Don’t you think I know that?”
“Get Pamela out of town,” Larry said, his voice deadly calm. “Stay focused.”
“You’re right.” Jake sucked in a deep breath, released it, and nodded.
Larry stood by as Jake called his father-in-law then Pamela. The strain in his friend’s voice when he told Pamela he had confirmation that the Black Scorpions would arrive in town if they hadn’t already, nailed Larry in the gut and reminded him he’d best call Charlene. The odds were doubtful that the Scorpions would mess with her, but figuring out what they’d do was playing the slot machines. You never knew what you’d get.
****
Last night, the things they did…What Larry did… Charlene sighed. The wine…his tongue…she melted and couldn’t put a complete thought together. Her body tingled. She curled her arms around her pillow, pulling it under her naked breasts and touched something soft and velvety.
Her heart skipped a beat. Not one rose, but a handful lay in a bundle on the pillow Larry had used last night.
In no time, he managed to melt her resolve to keep her distance. Surprisingly, she was okay with that.
She lifted the roses, breathed in the fragrant scent, and wished Larry hadn’t been called out in the wee hours concerning a case. After he received a phone call, he’d given her one hell of a kiss that would have knocked her socks off if she had been wearing any, and left.
Her cell rang, interrupting her blissful musings. She pushed the talk button. “Hello.”
“Charlene!”
Hearing the gruff voice, she flipped and sat straight up. Her muscles went rigid. How’d Andrew get her number? “What do you want?”
“The money.”
“This is bullshit,” Charlene raged back. “I don’t have any.”
“Char, you know your face twists when you lie. It’s not a becoming look for you.”
Footsteps sounded in the hall.
Oh, shit!
Panic tripped her heart
into a sprint, pumping an excessive amount of energy to her feet. She jumped out of bed, raced to the door, hitting it with a thump and managing to slam it closed on Andrew.
“Give up, Charlene. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will come through this door one way or another.” His heavy breathing sounded through the wood.
She braced the heels of her feet against the bench at the end of her bed and pressed her hands against the closed door. “Get out!”
Cool air drifted over her body. She glanced down at her naked form.
Double Shit!
Her nightie from last night dangled off the corner of her bed. Her phone was who knows where.
The door edged inward.
She pushed harder against it.
“I’m coming in.”
She locked her arms.
The breathing on the other side disappeared.
Where’d he go? She eased her ear to the door. What he planned lit into her mind—he was ramming the door. She couldn’t stop him from busting in and raced for the nightgown.
The door flew open and Andrew fell into the bench. “Son of a bitch!”
She eased backwards. “Get out!”
He righted himself and his gaze slid down her body. “Nice jammies.”
Crap! She grabbed the see-through nightie she’d worn last night, not the cotton one. Where the hell was her brain? She yanked her robe off the chair and covered her body. “How’d you get in?”
Darkness covered his face and his nostrils flared. “I want the money.”
“Get out of my house!” she shot back.
“The money,” he demanded, his fists clenching. “There’s money due me for the sale of our restaurant.”
The man was dense. “You dropped the ball. The bank foreclosed. I didn’t get any.”
“You’re lying. That Jameson fellow bailed you out.”
Who told Andrew about the stupidest mistake she’d ever made? Randy didn’t even know everything she did where the restaurant was concerned. “He didn’t bail me out!”
“And you have the award money.”
“I bought the house for your son and me. I have no money left.”
His eyebrows dived into angry slashes. “I’d believe you, if I thought you were honest.”
“I’m not the liar,” she panted.
“Really?” He shifted toward her bathroom. “You’re sleeping with an agent, the agent that shot Randy.”
She didn’t want to chat about her personal life.
“Your silence is confirmation.”
“It’s none of your business!”
He stepped inside the bathroom and held up the trashcan.
Her throat stung and her mouth went dry.
“You’ve turned into a whore!”
The situation turned from bad to worse. “Get out!” She scanned the room for a weapon.
He threw the can on the floor, the contents spilled over. Several condoms fell out, the ammunition that would send Andrew over the edge.
“You’re fucking him! You slut!” His pupils grew wide and his face turned red.
She’d never seen him this angry, but she couldn’t back down. If she did, he’d think he could control her like he had when they were married. She pressed her lips together and returned his glare.
“I ought to kick your ass. If you weren’t the mother of my son, I would.”
He stormed toward her so fast she backed up without thinking.
He gripped her shoulders and shook her. His face an inch away, he stormed, “You’re crazy. The agent is using you to get to me.” His last word came out on a sullen note.
“Why would anyone use me to reach you? We’re not married, not living together. I don’t even like you.”
His expression pinched.
Andrew’s questionable behavior turned desperate. Why? “Why would an agent be searching for you?”
He stiffened. A flash of tenderness crossed his hard features. “I’ve done some stuff I’m not proud of. Put you and Henry in a bad situation. I’ll get us out of it soon, but I need the money.”
What the hell was he talking about? “There is no us!”
The jumping pulse in his neck clued her in that he was about to do something really irrational. Telling her feet to move, get the hell out of the way, and have them listen was a maneuver her brain and body couldn’t finagle.
Anger raged in his expression. A vein popped up on his forehead. He grabbed her throat and squeezed.
She grasped his wrist, hit at him. “St-o-p,” she huffed out.
“Tomorrow. I want the money tomorrow.”
“Fu-ck yo-u!” She spit in his face and jerked her knee upward.
His grip lessened.
Heart beating double time, she darted out the door, banging the door closed behind her, and ran down the steps for the bats.
They were gone.
Ugh!
She raced to the kitchen for her mother’s car keys.
Gone.
“Charlene!” Andrew yelled. His footsteps pounded down the stairs. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”
His voice was tender and sweet, but she wasn’t staying around to see if he meant it.
She raced for the kitchen door. The doorknob was gone.
Her heart fell to her stomach. Fear crashed into her gut. For the first time, she was truly scared of her ex-husband.
Andrew grabbed her arm. “Please, Char.” He spun around until she faced him. “I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m in a bad situation. If I don’t get the money, I’m a dead man.”
Her chest heaved, sucking in air and coming down from the adrenaline rush. Her nerves stayed on edge, but the fear that had vibrated through her body had died down. “I don’t believe you.”
He spread out his fingers in front of him. “Please trust me.”
“Like you told me to trust you the day I said ‘I Do’.” She forced a laugh. “That’s rich. For you to think I’ll believe you again, you’re kidding yourself.”
“Consider it…please. I’m at your mercy.” He marched toward the front door. “Tomorrow morning,” he said over his shoulder.
She followed.
“Oh, yeah,” he smirked. “Tell lover boy, payback’s a bitch.”
Rage ignited her blood. She charged after him.
“Tomorrow.”
The door closed in her face. She locked it and looked out the window to Andrew driving away in an Impala. The car used in the shooting?
What to do darted around in her brain before alarm settled in. Henry!
She raced up the steps and searched for her phone. A glow from underneath the curtain grasped her attention before the theme music to Spider-Man played.
She snatched the phone. “Mom.” Her breath rushed out in pants.
“Dear, is everything okay?” Doris asked.
If her mom had to ask that question, then she and Henry were fine. Charlene sucked in a deep breath and released it. “It is now.” She gripped the edge of the curtain and peeked out the window.
All four of her mother’s car tires had been slashed.
Her phone beeped. “Mom, I’ll call you back in a second. Don’t go anywhere.”
She clicked the phone. “Larry?”
“Tomorrow at 9. Charlene,” Andrew said and the line went dead.
Heart thundering in her chest, she hit the button and called Larry, her fingers shaking.
Voice mail came on.
She tried Jake. No answer.
“Damn it!”
The cell rang. “Larry?” she shouted into the phone.
“No, it’s Celine. I’ll be there in a few.”
Celine was coming there. Why?
“You sound upset,” Celine said. “Did Larry not show last night?
“Uh.” Charlene’s mind was scrambled. She tried to figure out what to say in the midst of her confusion. Telling Celine Andrew was here would only make her friend act hastily and possibly put her in danger. “He did. I’m trying to reach him this morning.
”
“Well, do you need a ride to Greenwood Manor to pick up your car?”
She’d forgotten about the arrangements she and Celine made last night before she left the cafe. She didn’t know what she was in for today with Andrew, but not having a car wasn’t good. “Yeah, yeah, I do. Thanks, Celine.”
They disconnected and she called her mom back. Doris answered on the first ring. “Hi, honey, what’s going on?”
“Andrew was here again,” Charlene said, fighting back tears.
A gasp came across the line. “No.”
“He still wants money.”
“Have you called Larry?”
“I tried, but his phone went to voice mail,” Charlene said. “I’m sure Larry will call as soon as he can.”
“Maybe you should phone the police.”
“I don’t know.” Charlene swiped her forehead and her robe gaped. She better get dressed before Celine showed up. “Celine’s taking me to get my car. If Larry hasn’t called me by the time I get back, I’ll call the police.”
“Okay.”
“Is Henry awake?”
“He was. Right after he ate breakfast, he fell asleep watching Spider-Man.”
Charlene sighed. “I kept him up too late last night. Give him a kiss for me. I’ll be over after I get back.”
“Be careful,” Doris said, concern reflected in her voice.
“I will.”
The doorbell sounded.
“Gotta go, Mom, love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Charlene disconnected, dressed in blue jeans, a shirt and tennis shoes before grabbing her spare car key off her dresser. She rushed downstairs and peeked through the window. Seeing it was Celine, she opened the door. “Hi, Celine. Thanks so much.”
“No problem. Driving to the country will relax me as long as I don’t have any more flats.”
Charlene settled into the passenger seat of the Camaro and rested her head against the headrest. For a long moment, she stayed that way as her breathing evened out and the adrenaline fueling her blood into hyper alert slowed.
Before she knew it, Celine turned past the Greenwood Manor’s stone posts.
Charlene’s stomach twisted. The strobe lights and odd noises from the other night flashed in her mind, haunting her. From what Larry had said, the drug in the wine played tricks on her brain. She believed that, but still the images were so vivid it was hard to put the incident into perspective.