He wan, of course. As his prize, he demanded that she take off her brassiere and lee him see her breasts. Behind his arrogance, she had detected a vulnerability she found very sweet.
Off came the brassiere.
He looked.
then looking advanced to touching. His touch had been tentative and gentle. That's why she had granted him liberties that she withheld from other boys. Soon she was touching him, to.
That first time had been awkward and uncomfortable. Matt had been clumsy and anxious; she, eager to please. But she remembered the feverish heat of their skin, the mesh of their mingled breath, the thudding of their hearts, and their joyous discovery. Their lust had been honest and unabashed brimming, bursting. And, in many things, innocent.
Now, as Lottie leaned her head against the grimy window pane. tears rolled down her cheeks. She had loved Matt Burn wood to distraction then. As now. And for always.
That's why she let him use her. She recognized and responded to the desperation behind his desire. for her. She filled a need In him, and she suspected it wasn't entirely sexual.
She was Matthew Burnwoods private rebellion for being Matthew Burnwood. He had achieved all the goals his father had set for him. He lived up to the expectations other people imposed on him. He always performed as he was expected to His affair with her was the one failing he allowed himself That it must be kept secret was part of its attraction for her. She was the antithesis of the kind Of woman he was expected to have. If she had been even moderately acceptable in the social circles to which the Burnwoods belonged, Matt probably would have lost interest in her years ago. It was because she was so blatantly unsuitable that he had continued to come to her all these years.
she knew that in his own way Matt loved her He would never love anyone as much as he loved his father No one would ever receive from him the blind loyalty and devotion he reserved for Gibb.
For that reason, Lottie sympathized with Kendall Deaton, who had married Matt with such misplaced optimism. When it came to her husband's affections, Kendall had resented running a distant second to her father-in-law and apparently had macle her feelings known. Even before divorcing her, Matt had often complained that Kendall was too outspoken for her own good.
So what did that make Lottie? A doormat? An obedient uncomplaining, obliging mistress?
The answer was evident in the letter she had received from Matt today. She bent down, picked it Up off the floor, and spread it open on the table, smoothing out the creases she'd made when she balled it up.
Matt needed her now, more desperately than ever before, and more than he would ever need her again.
She gazed around the room at the tired, faded furnishings, the water-stained ceiling, the scuffed hardwood floor that creaked beneath each step.
This is as good as my life is ever going to get, she thought sadly.
When Kendall left town, Lottie's murder trial had been postponed until new counsel could be arranged. A lawyer had been appointed; his first course of action had been to request an extension to allow him time to review the case and prepare his strategy. The court had granted his request. In view of the high-profile cases now pending, it might be months before another trial date was scheduled.
But Lottie wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.
Regardless of the outcome of the trial, until she was judged for killing Charlie, her life would remain in a state of limbo.
She wasn't in jail, but she certainly wasn't free.
She had no husband, no children, no family who would claim her. She had a house, but it was shelter, not a home.
She had no status in the community.
The only happiness she had known in her whole life had been found in Matt Burnwood's arms. Even knowing his weaknesses and his prejudice, she loved him.
Again she read the letter he had written her from his jail cell. He was asking an enormous favor. If she granted it, she would be gambling with her life.
On the other hand, after taking inventory of her life, it was clear that she had absolutely nothing to lose.
Chapter 25
They've escaped!"
The bearer of this shocking news was a deputy sheriff whose only responsibility was to give directions and be of assistance to anyone who had business in the Prosper County Court house.
His genetic pool had more than its share of stagnant genes, particularly in those that involved acuity. He had barely passed the application exam required for the job. But he had passed, and he proudly wore the khaki uniform and badge of his office.
The stiff shirt collar was far too large for his scrawny neck, which formed a wobbling pedestal for his small, pointed head.
H is name was Lee Simon Crook. He was a cousin of Billy Joe and the twins.
Luther Crook had a perfect shot lined up when Lee Simon burst through the door of the pool hall and blurted out the news that had sent him running the two blocks from the courthouse. Cursing because he had missed the shot that would have won back the ten dollars he'd lost earlier, Luther swung around, fists doubled up and ready to fight.
"Lee Simon, you little piss-ant! I ought to stamp you to -mush. I had a perfect"
"Shut up, Luther," Henry ordered from his barstool.
"What you say about somebody escaping, Lee Simon?"
"They escaped. From the jailhouse."
Luther grabbed his cousin by the sleeve of his uniform and spun him around. "Who escaped, shithead?"
"The B-B-Burnwoods."
"What the hell you sayin'?"
"Swear to God. " He drew an X over the center of his concave chest. " "Bout ten minutes ago, it was. All hell's broke loose over there. In all the confusion, I snuck out and hightailed it over here quick as I could."
Even during the middle of the day there was always a small crowd of men in the billiards hall, loafers who spent their time drinking beer and grumbling about the mail service, which was consistently late in delivering their welfare checks.
Scowling, Henry dragged his cousin to one of the dim, smoky corners of the saloon, signaling Luther to join them in the back booth.
"You gonna forfeit?" Luther's competitor asked him.
Luther tossed another ten-dollar bill on the felt, racked his cue stick, and slid into the booth beside his brother, so that they sat facing the cousin whom they had tormented all his life. The ornery twins had made every family gathering pure hell for the physically inferior child of their father's brother out of his third wife.
Their chronic abuse had worked conversely to earn them Lee Simon's undying affection, admiration, and loyalty. That his cousins were often on the opposite side of the law seemed only to enamor him more.
"Y'all told me to keep an eye on things over yonder," he began, hitching his thumb in the general direction of the courthouse. "Well, that's what I done. Sure as hell didn't figure on anything this excitin' happening'."
"What did happen?"
"They busted out. Matt and his old man. In broad day light."
"How? They get a guard down?, ""Got him up, you mean," Lee Simon chortled.
"Huh?"
"Miss Lottie Lynam . . . ?"
"Yeah," the twins chorused.
""Well, the last few days, she's been coming to see Matt regular like. Brings him cheeseburgers and coconut cream pie from the cafe. Magazines and books, stuff like that."
He leaned across the table and assumed a man-to-man in flection You know how good she's put together? Well, she sashays into that jail like she was the Queen of Sheba. Gets everybody in there all worked up, don'cha know. Including the guards. Me, even. Hell, we might be in uniform, but we're men underneath, right?"
""Yeah, she's got a set of tits that'll knock out headlights,"
Luther said impatiently. 'Get on with it, will ya?"
Lee Simon licked away the spittle that often formed in the corners of his lips So Lottie comes a-prancin' in there today, wearing a real tight-fittin' dress. And she makes damn sure she's got everybody's undivided
attention, including al' Wiley Jones."
Getting into his story, he scooted forward on the seat of the booth. More spittle was collecting. "Wiley lees her into the visitin' area, where she trips and spills her purse. She went down on all fours to pick up her scuff, and I heard tell that ol, Wiley's eyes nearly popped right outa his head. Also heard tell that she didn't have no underwear on, but that might be a rumor. Or wishful thinkin'."
"If you don e get to the point"
"Okay, okay. I don't wane to leave nothin' out." He drew a quick breath. You know how everybody makes a big to do over Gibb Burnwood? Thinks he's a great guy and all.
Well, most of the guards think he's getting a bad rap, so the security round him and Matt has been relaxed, you might say.
When Miss Lottie drops her purse, Wiley leaves his pose and rushes to help her. While he's scooping up lipsticks and chewing gum, Matt and Gibb, who'd been waiting to see Lottie, pass through the door, slick as owl shit.
"Lottie thanks Wiley for helping her, then says all breathless like, "Goodness me, I can't see my friends lookin' like this!'
She's smoothing her hair, rennin' her hands down her dress, supposed to be straightening it and all, you see.
"Then she takes off for the nearest ladies' room, where Matt and Gibb are waitin'. She locks the door, they change into clothes she'd stashed there earlier, then the three of them walk out the front door, get into her car, and drive away, pretty as you please.
"Several people saw them leavin' the courthouse. They smiled, shook hands, said they'd just been granted bail, and wasn't that great. Justice had prevailed. The system works.
Stuff like that. Brass balls is what them Burnwoods've got.
"Wiley, poor ol' cuss, didn't even realize what happened.
When the shit hit the fan,, he was reared back in his chair, passin' the time till Miss Lottie returned from refreshin' herself in the ladies' room by day-dreamin' 'bout the view he'd had up her dress. He was still so dazed, he didn't even know his prisoners were out!"
"Where are they now?"
"How long have they been gone?"
"Hold on, cousins. I'll get around to it all. Could sure use something to wet my whistle, though," Lee Simon said, eyeing the bar.
Henry signaled the bartender, who brought the deputy a beer. "Ain't s'posed to drink while in uniform, but nobody's gonna be noticing my beer breath, what with all that hullabaloo going on over there today." He slurped the head off his draft.
"I ain't seed him for myself, but they say this FBI agent, Pepperdyne hell of a name, huh?they say that when word of the breakout reached Hilton, he pitched a conniption fit. He wants to know how come an old man with his head up his ass is guardin' federal prisoners. Asked who left al' Wiley in charge. They said if words could kill, everybody over there, includin' men on Pepperdyne's own team, would be deader 'n doornails. He's on the warpath."
"How'd Lottie get them out of town?" Henry asked.
"The way they figure it, she had another car waiting. Just before I tore off for here, I heard tell they'd found hers under a bridge out on the highway. Nobody saw them make the switch. All the Burnwoods' vehicles are accounted for. She musta got hold of a car somewhere, but nobody knows what it is. They're long gone, is my guess."
"To where?"
Lee Simon shrugged his knobby shoulders. "It's anybody's guess, I reckon."
"No ideas?" Luther asked.
"Well, there's talk around the courthouse. Gossip, mostly."
He took another noisy sip of beer. "Everybody thinks they'll go after Matt's ex-wife to shut her up. That's why this Pepperdyne's throwing such a shit fit. She's the one who's saying they killed that chink that disappeared from the jailhouse. Get this said they cut off his pecker and crucified him," he whispered.
Henry and Luther exchanged a look of disgust over the lawmen's ineptitude. Henry said, "We heard she gave the slip to the marshals who were bringing her back to testify."
"It's true. Nobody knows where she's at." Lee Simon lowered his voice.
"Bet y'all wish ya did."
"Right you are, Lee Simon. You're not near as stupid as you are ugly."
Lee Simon beamed at the praise of his older, tougher, meaner cousins. "My ma says y'all blame Mrs. Burnwood for landing Billy Joe in prison. She says your mama ain't got over it yet."
Billy Joe had eventually recovered from his wound and was sent to a rehabilitation hospital, where he was fitted with a prosthesis. He hadn't yet mastered it when he attacked one of his therapists. Using the mechanical arm as a weapon, he inflicted serious damage to the man's head.
This time, he was tried as an adult, convicted, and was currently serving time in the Central Corrections Institute.
Billy Joe's misfortunes could be directly traced back to the public defender in Prosper, who had double-crossed the family.
"We should never have trusted her," Henry said with a mean, bitter slant to his mouth. "What do quips know about lawyering?"
"Not a damn thing," Luther replied. "Or our little brother wouldn't be in prison."
"And he'd still have his right arm."
Lee Simon drained his mug and belched rudely in an attempt to impress his cousins. "I better get back. Knew y'all'd want to know the latest."
The brothers absently muttered goodbye. Luther got up and assumed Lee Simon's place so that he could face his brother.
They stared at each other across the table until after a while, Luther asked, "What're you thinking, Henry?"
"What're you thinking?"
"I asked you first."
Henry tapped his chin like a scholar contemplating a tricky law of physics. "It'd be a crying shame if somebody even Gibb and Matt killed Mrs. Burnwood before we got a chance.
"A damn crying shame."
"I couldn't look myself in the mirror no more."
"It's a matter of family pride."
"Honor."
"We swore to Ma we'd get even with Kendall Burnwood for everything that happened to Billy Joe."
"She oughtn't to have crossed us Crooks."
"If we're gonna keep our vow to Ma"
"We got to find her-before they do." Henry slid from the booth and motioned for his brother to follow. "Let's go see what Mama thinks."
Mama thought it was a splendid idea. She even added an incentive that the twins hadn't thought of but that was quite compatible with their own reasons for wanting to get Kendall Burnwood.
With a wicked twinkle in her eyes, Mama posed a question to the twins: "Who's to say what old man Bu rnwood might do if we take care of his problem for him? Huh? He's got plenty of money, don't he?"
Henry was the first to catch Mama's drift. He winked at his brother. "Bet he'd be willing to part with some cash, if he was spared having to account for hisself in court."
When the story of the Brotherhood broke and the Crooks learned that there was a group of vigilantes operating in their midst, they'd been incensed but only because they hadn't been invited to join. Striving to keep Prosper racially pure and free of foreigners sounded like a great idea to them, and they couldn't comprehend men being punished for it.
Of course, they never guessed that it was Judge Fargo who had ordered Billy Joe's arm to be severed to teach both him and Kendall Burnwood a hard lesson on respect. Nor did they know that they, too, had been targeted for special punishment for daring to threaten a Burnwood, specifically Kendall. How ever, because of more pressing matters, the Brotherhood had been forced to sideline their cases.
Erroneously, the Crook clan held Kendall responsible for their calamities. From the day Billy Joe was taken from them, they had been planning their revenge. Breaking her wind shield, the threatening letters, and the dead rat had been only warm-ups.
In order to vandalize her office, they had enlisted Lee Simon's help. He had slipped them into the building after hours. In return, the twins had procured a woman who, for twenty dollars, agreed to spend a whole night with Lee Simon. The twins had considered this a bargain; their
cousin had been beside himself with glee.
Their plan, as outlined by Mama, was to continue harassing Mrs. Burnwood until she had a fatal "accident." Only she would know, moments before dying, that the Crooks had gotten their vengeance.
Unfortunately, before the grand finale could be staged, Mrs. Burnwood had left town for parts unknown. Angry and frustrated over the setback, Henry and Luther had gotten roaring drunk and burned down a hay barn just to make themselves feel better.
Their vows of revenge had not been forgotten, however.
Their hatred of Kendall Burnwood had not abated in the year since her disappearance. When they heard that she had been located in Colorado and was being transported back to South Carolina, they had celebrated with another drinking binge and the deflowering of a twelve-year-old niece.
They had barely recovered from their hangovers when they learned that their nemesis had eluded the U.S. marshals and was presently at large The twins had sunk into deep despair once again.
But now Lee Simon's news had revived their determination to get revenge. Mama had figured a way to line their pockets while they were at it. They gathered around the kitchen table with a bottle of rye to toast their promised prosperity and to formalize their plans.
"But I heard she's got a kid," Luther noted, his brow puckering. "After we kill her, what'll we do with the baby?"
Mama clouted him on the jaw. "Numb-nuts! You bring it back to old man Burnwood, of course. He'll probably pay double to have his grandbaby.
The twins grinned at each other. When it came to doing business, Mama was whiz, wasn't she?
Chapter 26
"Was that the baby?"
Kendall stirred. "Hmm?"
"I hear Kevin crying."
"He slept longer than I expected, so I can't complain." She got up and slipped on a robe. "Do you mind if I bring him in here?"
"Uh . . . no."
What had caused John's aversion to children? she wondered as she went into Kevin's room. In his nightmare, he had screamed for Pepperdyne to make them stop crying. Did he hear children crying in his dream? And how did children relate to his work? What incident continued to torment him?
That was just one of the million questions she would have asked him had circumstances been different. How ironic, that his amnesia was her fragile and tenuous protection against discovery, while it was also the impenetrable barrier that kept her from learning anything personal about John McGrath. She knew nothing of his background. She didn't know his birthday or his middle name.
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