by Sala, Sharon
“I can’t tell you,” she whispered. “I’m the only one who’ll know.”
“Good girl,” he said, then kissed the top of her head. “Go hide your phone and then come to the kitchen. We’re gonna make cookies.”
“Can I tell Mama that?”
“Yeah, you can tell Mama about the cookies.”
He stood up as she left, then followed to see what she was doing. His mother was still asleep and Linny was on the pallet with Rabbit in her lap. He remembered seeing a small rip in the seam at the rabbit’s back and realized she was putting the phone inside it.
“Fucking brilliant,” he muttered, then headed for the kitchen.
Chapter Sixteen
Anson Poe’s naked body was slick with sweat, as was the whore going down on him. The paper-thin sheet on the motel mattress was bunched up beneath him like a handful of used tissues, but he didn’t care. He liked the discomfort of being too hot almost as much as the brain-freeze of holding onto a climax until it hurt.
When he finally turned loose to ride the blood rush, he had both hands in her hair, her face mashed up against his groin, completely oblivious of the fact that she was choking. She finally landed a blow to his balls to get his attention.
“What the hell?” he yelled as he pushed her back and sat up.
She fell backward off the bed and made a grab for her clothes and shoes as she bolted for the bathroom.
He leaped up from the bed to follow her and got the door slammed in his face for the effort. He could hear her inside, slamming doors, and crying and cursing. The toilet flushed. He stepped back, ready to grab her for round two, then heard the sound of a window opening.
“What the fuck?”
He began looking around for his clothes to chase her down, and he was putting on his jeans when he heard her yell.
“You owe me one hundred dollars, you crazy bastard, and I’m sending T-Boy to collect.”
He cursed. Now her pimp would be bugging the shit out of him for the money.
“I’m not paying for something you didn’t earn!” he yelled back.
“You wanted a blow job. You got a blow job. The end.”
“Then open the door and I’ll give you your money!” Anson shouted.
“Shove it under the door or wait for T-Boy. And just so you know, he charges interest.”
“Bitch!” he said softly, then pulled out a handful of twenties and shoved them under the door.
He saw one red-tipped fingernail snake out from under the door and watched the money disappear.
There was more shuffling and then silence. The whore was gone.
What pissed him off was that she’d bested him. That never happened. He thought about enacting a little payback of his own, then reminded himself she wasn’t worth the trouble it would take to break her nasty neck. Only now, he needed the bathroom and the door was locked, but it gave easily when he threw his weight against it, and the problem was solved.
He strode in, slammed the window shut and locked it, then kicked off the blue jeans hanging down his butt and turned on the water. He wasn’t leaving until he’d washed every aspect of the bitch from his skin.
****
Julie’s life had been out of control ever since Chub Walton dragged her out of The Black Garter, but not anymore. She’d made the decision to take it back during the early morning hours, and she was sitting on the side of the bed, waiting for the doctor to make his morning rounds.
When Doctor Ames finally came in, he was unprepared for her attitude and appearance. In the last twenty-four hours, she’d gone from manic and being hobbled by pain to sanity and a decent mobility. He examined the lash marks and was pleased her temperature was almost normal.
“These are healing quite well,” he said. “They are no longer suppurating. Some of them are even beginning to granulize. I’m quite pleased by—”
“I want to leave now.”
Doctor Ames was a bit taken aback, but not firmly opposed to her request.
“I suppose you could continue bed rest at your parents’ home. I can recommend a private duty—”
“I’m not going there. I don’t need a nurse either. I can take myself to the bathroom. I can apply the necessary medicine.”
He frowned, convinced she was missing the bigger picture. “You do know that we’ve been keeping the media away, but you’re setting yourself up for a deluge of reporters once they know you’re free.”
She shrugged. “I know what’s going on and I know what happened to me is news. But once they’ve seen me, it will be old news, and unlike my parents, I have nothing to be ashamed of. I didn’t commit a crime. I was a victim and I’m a survivor.” Her voice started shaking. “Maybe the people of New Orleans would like to know what a survivor looks like. Maybe I’ll wind up on Oprah.” She slapped her hands against the side of the bed as her vision began to blur. “Maybe they’ll make a fucking movie about me. Who knows?”
Ames sighed. He’d been waiting for this stage. Anger was part of the grieving process, and she had plenty to be angry about.
“You shouldn’t be alone,” he said gently.
“I need to be alone,” Julie said.
“But what if—?”
“Are you going to dismiss me or not?”
He sighed. “I will, but I’m noting in the record that it’s against my better judgment.”
“I don’t care what your record says. Just sign me out, please.”
He touched the top of her head in a gesture meant to be comforting, but she ducked away from contact.
“I’ll send a nurse in with some instructions for your care.”
Julie pulled at the hem of her gown. “They brought me here naked. May I have some scrubs to wear to get me home?”
He nodded. “I expect you to see your family doctor on a regular basis to make sure you don’t develop any infections.”
She nodded.
“I’m very sorry for what happened to you,” Doctor Ames said.
“So am I,” she said.
As soon as the doctor left, she reached for the phone, got an outside line, and called her grandmother. As soon as she heard her grandmother’s voice, she started talking.
“Nonny, it’s me, Julie.”
“Julie! Darling! You’re sounding much better.”
“I’m feeling better, too. In fact, I’m leaving the hospital this morning, and I was wondering if I could stay with you while I finish recuperating.”
“Of course you can stay. I will treasure your company, but it bears the question, what’s wrong between you and your parents?”
Julie burst into tears. “Oh, Nonny, it would be easier to tell you what’s not wrong. Daddy is doing everything he can to drive Brendan away from me. I’m scared to death that he will get enough of it and leave me just to get rid of Daddy.”
“You don’t give your man enough credit. From what I saw, you couldn’t drive him away. However, you stay with me and we’ll fix this mess together.”
“Thank you, Nonny. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’re welcome, darling. Are you coming now?”
“Yes, as soon as the doctor finishes signing the release papers.”
“I’ll have Janie make up the bed in the guest room. What about clothes?”
“They are all at my apartment. I’ll ask Brendan to bring some tomorrow.”
“Then we’re good to go. I’ll see you soon, darling, and don’t worry. I’ll shake some sense into Grayson or know the reason why.”
“There’s one more thing, Nonny.”
“What’s that, darling?”
“My presence at your home may bring unwanted media attention.”
“I didn’t think of that, but we’ll handle it as well. You come when you’re ready, and the rest will take care of itself.”
When the connection ended, Julie grabbed a tissue and blew her nose before making the next call, this time to her old boss. It rang three times and then she heard a click.
> “Hello?”
“Jack, it’s me, Julie. I was hoping you were still in town.”
Jack Michaels beamed. “Well hello, honey! It’s good to hear your voice.”
“I need a favor.”
“All you have to do is ask.”
“I’m leaving the hospital and I need a ride.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“Is something wrong between you and Brendan?”
“Yes.”
“Oh damn, honey, I’m sorry. What happened?”
“My father happened, that’s what. He’s ruining everything and I’ve got to get away from my parents before I lose Brendan altogether.”
Jack frowned. “Don’t tell me he’s still riding that old horse about blaming Brendan for what happened to you?”
“He’s lost his mind, Uncle Jack. He hates Anson Poe so much and keeps putting Brendan in the middle.”
“Well hell. I’ll be right there. You can tell me the rest when I take you... Oh wait. Where am I taking you?”
“To Nonny’s. She’s the only one who can keep Mother and Daddy in line.”
“Good choice, sugar. Just give me a few minutes. I need to gas up before I come get you, okay?”
“Yes. I’ll have them take me down to the emergency room entrance, just in case there are any reporters lurking about out front. That way all you have to do is just drive up and they’ll bring me out.”
“Sure thing. I’ll see you soon.”
She hung up. One more call—the most important one of all. When she heard Brendan’s voice, despite her best intentions she started crying again.
First, it startled him, and then it made him angry. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, sweetheart.”
“I’m just heart-sick about what Daddy is doing to you. I hate him for it. I’m scared you’ll leave me just to be rid of him and-”
“Julie, stop talking a minute, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, then grabbed a handful of tissues and blew her nose.
“I will never quit loving you. I will never leave you. Do you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t insult me by thinking that again. We’re not the sum total of our parents, thank God, because mine is fucking crazy, and yours has a God complex. Other than that, they’re just fine.”
She laughed through tears. “Don’t hold back, honey. Tell me what you really think.”
He shoved a hand through his hair in frustration and then grinned. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty fed up with the both of them, myself.”
“So am I, which is why I’m going to Nonny’s to recuperate instead of going home.”
He grinned. He and her grandmother had hit it off. “This is great!”
“I think so, too,” Julie said. “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind packing up some stuff from my apartment and bringing it to her house sometime tomorrow.”
“I would be happy to do that for you.”
“Bring my toiletries, some clothes that are soft, and also loose or baggy, and my fuzzy house shoes.”
He grinned. “Those purple things?”
“Yes, those purple things. I love them and they’re soft, which, at this moment in my life, takes precedence over style.”
“Will do,” he said.
“Do you know where Nonny lives?”
“No. Hang on a sec and let me get a pen.”
Julie could hear him shuffling through a drawer, then his voice in her ear.
“I’m ready. Go ahead.”
She gave him the address. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Count on it.”
“Be aware of reporters who might bug you if they see you arrive.”
“I lived nineteen years with Anson Poe. Reporters do not scare me, okay?”
She closed her eyes, letting the sound of his voice wash through her. “You are my world, Brendan Poe. I always count on you.”
“Ah, Juliette... there you go turning my head,” he said softly.
She closed her eyes, feeling every nuance of the love in his words. They would get through this hell together.
****
Two days later
Anson was ready to make a call to LaDelle and play nice. The remodeling was finished, the new curtains and drapes were up, and the pink bedspread to match the walls in Linny’s bedroom was in place. It was the most expensive trap he’d ever set, but once it was sprung, the satisfaction he would get would be worth it.
He’d been up since daybreak, ready to get the day in gear, but time began to drag when his sons had yet to show.
Ever since their little dust-up with the snake, they’d developed an attitude he didn’t like. He’d gotten a call from Wes Riordan last night, and he wanted another load of marijuana and they didn’t have one ready. Riordan would show up in five days and they didn’t have any time to waste.
When nine o’clock came and went and they were still missing, Anson got pissed. He called Sam, but didn’t get an answer. The day was already hot—the sky was cloudless and a blue so pale it looked white.
Anson walked off the back porch out into the yard, and as he did, he immediately smelled something burning. He sniffed the air to see which way the smell was coming from, but Wisteria Hill was surrounded on all sides by a heavy growth of trees and it was impossible to tell. He glanced at his watch again, then walked back into the house and all the way up to the second floor. If there was visible smoke, he should be able to see it from there.
He went into Linny’s bedroom and looked out the window toward the front yard, but the sky above the tree line was clear. He crossed the hall to the spare bedroom on the opposite side of the house. The view from that window was toward the bamboo grove and the land beyond. He saw a plume of smoke rising above the treetops to the southwest, a second larger and darker one straight west, and an enormous plume of smoke to the northwest.
He couldn’t tell how far away it was, but whatever it was, it was burning up fast. The smoke was thick and billowing, and without wind, hung heavily in the sky. He was trying to picture the layout of the land and what might be burning, when all of a sudden it hit him. He grabbed onto the windowsill to keep from staggering, watching in disbelief.
He was still looking out the window when he saw Sam drive into the yard and park. He watched him wiping sweat from his forehead as he got out and headed for the house, then watched him pause to sniff the wind, just as he’d done.
Seconds later, Anson watched his last truant son arrive, but at a frantic pace. Chance jumped out of the truck on the run, and from the window, Anson saw him shouting and pointing, and then saw Sam’s reaction. When Sam broke into a run toward the house, and Chance headed for the packing shed, Anson decided it was time to make an appearance.
****
Sam’s face was still numb from the shot the dentist had given him to fix his broken tooth. He was already sick to his stomach, and thinking about fighting fire in this heat seemed impossible, yet it appeared that’s what was about to happen. He ran into the house, yelling as he went.
“Dad! Dad! Are you in here?”
Haste would change nothing. Anson came down the stairs at a methodical pace. The moment Sam heard the footsteps, he ran into the entry hall.
“Dad! I think the fields are on fire! Chance said he saw the smoke from the highway and tried to call you but you didn’t answer.”
Anson frowned and patted his pocket. The cell phone wasn’t there.
“What the fuck?” he muttered, trying to remember when he’d had it last, and headed for the kitchen. It was lying on the counter next to the coffee pot. He checked his calls. He’d missed one—from Chance.
Fuck.
Sam ran right past him and out the door.
Anson pocketed the phone and followed as Sam pointed toward the packing shed.
“Chance went to get the little tractor. It still has the dozer blade on it. Maybe we can—”
Anson was still in shock, but it was swiftly turning to rag
e.
“I saw the smoke. It’s too late. You’re late. You’re both late. Where the fuck have you been?”
Sam pointed to his swollen jaw. “I told you yesterday evening I had a dentist appointment this morning to fix that broken tooth.”
Anson shifted from one foot to another, wanting to hit something, or someone.
“I didn’t hear you say that. I fucking did not hear you say that.”
Sam straightened. He could already see where this was going. “You laughed when it broke yesterday. Do you fucking remember that?”
Anson frowned. He didn’t like to be wrong, but he did remember that. What the hell was happening to him?
Chance came out from behind the packing shed on the tractor, waving to indicate he was ready.
Sam glared. “If you’re not interested in fighting fire, I’m damn sure not, either.”
Anson knew they had to put it out or someone would eventually call the fire department, then one thing would lead to another and the secret pot fields would be a thing of the past. He pointed at Sam.
“You drive,” he muttered and got in Sam’s truck.
Sam got behind the wheel, stopped at the shed to throw in a couple of shovels, and followed Chance up through the bayou to the first of the marijuana patches. By the time they arrived, it was gone and the foot-high flames were burning toward the underbrush.
Chance headed for the fire line, lowered the dozer blade and plowed right through it, smothering out most of it, while Anson and Sam put out the rest by shoveling dirt onto the wild spots.
The heat from the fire was intense, adding to the heat of the day, and they were deep inside the backcountry without a breath of moving air to cool them off.
Mosquitoes buzzed their ears, making jerky forays to their bare arms and the backs of their necks as they slung dirt and tamped out the hot spots. Snakes slithered through the grass ahead of the flames while rabbits darted out of the smoking underbrush. Today, no one was happy in the bayou.
They moved to the second fire at a hasty pace, anxious to get it out as well, and repeated the process. But this fire was farther along than the first, and there were some anxious moments before they finally stopped the fire at the trees.