I snorted. “He must have some big ones. He’s going to pay me to figure out who the mysterious texter is. Tinsley’s worried the texts are going to ruin his career and he’ll lose the Tiny Tony.”
“Tiny Tony?” Luke shoved his wings to the side. “Never mind. What do you mean he’s going to pay you to find the texter?”
If I had been drinking whiskey, my grin would’ve sparked a fire. “Tinsley has been following my local crime exploits as well as my art career. He thinks I’m observant and brave and willing to risk myself to help others.”
“Sugar.” Luke leaned across the table to take my hands, but I slipped them into my lap. His hand remained open, his arm stretched across the table. “This texting business sounds like a hot mess. You don’t want to get mixed up in this.”
“Tinsley needs my help. Besides, I’m already working on his set design.” I folded my arms. “It’s not dangerous. I’ll talk to the kids and teachers. Keep my eye out for anything suspicious. I’m an outsider, so I might notice something they don’t.”
Luke slumped in his chair. “Just do me the favor of keeping me informed? At the very least, you might hear something the police aren’t privy to. You could help out their investigation.”
“I’m getting more offers of help today than I want. But I’d be happy to assist Line Creek with their investigation.”
Excitement pulsed through my veins. Finally, Luke had conceded that I could help with an investigation. My head felt ready to explode with pride.
“I’d be glad to report to you,” I said.
He gave me a nod and a smile, but the cool gray eyes seemed somber. And no dimples in sight.
I picked up my burger, but eyed his wings. “You’re not eating?”
Luke’s cheeks colored. “Not very hungry.”
“Can I have a wing?” My stomach roared in agreement, causing the two-year-old twins behind us to start bawling.
“Help yourself.” He pushed the basket toward me. “Shouldn’t have ordered them.”
“Something wrong?” I snagged a fat drummie.
He gave me an exasperated look and sipped his beer. “How does Todd do it?”
“Do what?”
“Live with you, hang around you. And not feel like crap.”
I sighed and licked the hot sauce dripping off my fingers. “I’m sorry. Todd and I were friends before we started dating. But it hasn’t always been easy for us either. We’re in a good place now.”
Luke picked up a fry and pointed toward the bar. “He’s not looking too happy with you right now. You got that boy on a leash?”
I turned around in my chair. With his back against the bar, Todd leaned with crossed arms, watching our meal. I gave him a what-the-hell look. He tossed one back.
Shocked, I dropped the wing. Todd was my easy-going buddy. My sidekick. My pal. My Labrador retriever of ex-boyfriends. I glanced back at Luke.
His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “It’s not as easy as you think.”
“Come on, Luke. Give friendship a chance. Todd’s just ticked because he thinks you’ve been an asshole to me. He’s probably worried we’re getting back together.”
“Don’t let everyone else dictate what happens with us.” Luke glanced back at Todd, then dropped his gaze to his lap. “Do you think I’ve been an asshole? Is that why you won’t give us a chance?”
“I’m giving you a chance at friendship.” My hands trembled picking up my burger. I set it down. My stomach felt queasy, my eyes hot, and my head hurt.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I hopped from my seat and in my haste, banged my hip on the corner of the table. A tear slipped out, and I stamped my foot at my wussy reaction. “Dammit.”
“Cherry, please.” Luke snagged my hand. “I’ll try harder. Call me tomorrow and let me know what’s going on at the school.”
“Fine.” I brushed the tear from my cheek. “I’ll give you a report on my investigation.”
“It’s not an—” Luke stopped and squeezed my hand. “Sure sugar, give me your report. We should meet. Some place where we can get away from everyone else.”
I stared at my hand resting in his and pulled it free to cross over Bert and Ernie. “Maybe we should just meet here.”
Luke tried to smile. “I’m sorry for being such a shit.”
“Try being nicer to Tara,” I said. “She’s good people.”
“I know.” Luke blew out a sigh. “Too good for the likes of me.”
Nine
I had left Red’s troubled and full of doubt, feelings I didn’t want to ferment. I drove the few blocks to my ninety-year-old Georgia bungalow, parked under the crammed carport, and slunk into my bedroom. After living in my Great-Gam’s decrepit house by myself for five years, Todd’s presence in the only other bedroom sometimes taxed my patience. Tonight was one of those nights. I wanted my big sister, who dished man-wisdom better than she observed it. But Casey was too busy shacking up with her new husband to pay much attention to my romantic trials and tribulations.
Besides, she was in the anti-Luke camp and I didn’t want to encourage those sentiments. I crawled under my quilt and stared up at my painting of Snug the Coonhound until sleep found me.
The day dawned brighter and I chalked my isolation to bad pimento and hormones. I normally enjoyed sipping coffee and watching a half-nekkid Todd scramble to get to his day job, but I wanted to maintain the peace sleep had brought. I stayed in my room, piecing together an art director ensemble. I had finally settled on a white shift dress I had once painted with color blocks and black lines, Mondrian style. Later, I had found out Yves Saint Laurent had the same idea back in the ’60s.
I was classic retro on accident. Peerless would dig it.
“I like that dress, baby.”
I looked up from my bed to find Todd leaning in my doorway, watching me pull on my left boot. His uniform shirt, shorts, and steel-toed boots all had the same dismal shade of burnt sienna. However, they did make his cherries tattoo pop.
“Thanks, hon’,” I said and grabbed my other red cowboy boot.
“Cherry, are you okay?” Todd plodded into my bedroom and sank onto the bed next to me. “You took off last night and I wasn’t even sure if you were home except you left all the lights on.”
“I’m doing all right.” I smiled and patted his leg. “Going to my first day of school.”
He ducked his tow head like a sheepish kid. “I’m sorry about last night. I got riled up seeing Luke pulling you in and stringing you along. And his girlfriend, Tara, is so sweet. I talked to her a bit. She’s going to watch Sticks play this weekend.”
“That’s nice.” I wrapped my arm around his brawny shoulder and squeezed. “Tara’s not going out with Luke, though. She’s just stalking him. But hey, she’s single if you’re interested. Doesn’t take break-ups too well, though.”
“I’m not interested.” His blue eyes flicked toward me then away. “You know, she’s not the only one who doesn’t take break-ups well.”
“You talking about me?”
“I’m talking about Cody, actually. You need to talk to your brother, baby. I don’t know what’s got you so ticked, but he’s feeling it mighty bad.”
“Fine. I’ll see him. I need to swing by the farm anyway.”
The unfortunate consequence of kicking my brother out of my house was having him move back to my Grandpa’s farm. It didn’t please Grandpa. Nor Grandpa’s woman, Pearl, who felt we grandchildren had taken enough handouts from Ed Ballard. Nor Cody, who liked the in-town bachelor pad he had created in my house for a few weeks.
Nor me, who enjoyed Pearl’s cooking and had just begun to enjoy her friendship when I had stopped visiting the farm to avoid Cody.
“I miss hanging out with Cody,” Todd ventured. “He spends all his time in
your Grandpa’s barn working on his cars. He’s not even interested in tailgating this fall. Something’s real wrong if you don’t care about football.”
“You made your point.” I shoved my other foot into the right boot and realized I had them backwards. I pulled the boots off and started again. “I’ll talk to him. But I’m not promising anything. That boy is stubborn.”
“No more than you, baby.” Todd gave me a dimple-popping grin before the slight could strike home. He eased back onto his elbows, watching me hop to my correct feet and stride to my dresser to hunt for accessories.
“We’re doing good as friends, aren’t we?” My mirrored gaze left my image to seek Todd’s. “And roommates?”
“You’re about the best friend I’ve ever had. And you don’t even play poker. As far as roommates go, as long as you don’t try to cook and paint at the same time, we do just fine. We could keep on doing this forever as far as I’m concerned.” He saluted me, rose from the bed, and walked out the door.
I squinted back at my reflection. Forever was a long time. I needed to figure out my messes before Todd and I began accidentally swapping dentures and realized we were too late.
Too late for what, I wasn’t sure.
The farm had been my home from age five to eighteen, when I left for art school in Savannah. When I returned to Halo, Great Gam’s in-town bungalow stood empty and I had eagerly set up residence with a lot of palmetto bugs and faulty plumbing in exchange for tax payments and my own studio. However, I still had made daily trips to the farm to see my family. And eat. When my siblings moved out and Grandpa had taken up with Pearl, my trips to the farm came less regular.
Grandma Jo had passed away to cancer more than ten years ago, but we grandkids had a hard time letting her go and Pearl in. Maybe it would be easier if Pearl were more like Grandma Jo, filling our bellies and minds with love and goodness. Instead, Grandpa’s new flame turned out to be as stubborn and cantankerous as himself. And less eager to feed us.
Maybe Pearl reminded him of his goats. Also stubborn and cantankerous.
I pulled the Datsun into the farm drive and scoped the yard for the other reason I had slowed my visits. One particular goat named Tater. A gigantic white billy complete with horns, long beard, and a wicked tenacity to take on any bridge-dwelling troll without fear. Or a pickup truck. Particularly certain yellow Datsuns with goat-head shaped dings in her sides.
However, Tater’s days of playing chicken with my truck should be long gone. If I didn’t want to let that rotten goat ram my truck before, I really didn’t want to take the chance now. He limped on three good legs and a shot up fourth after saving my life in the same incident that also hobbled Max. That day had not gone well for neither men nor goats and now guilt shackled me to both creatures.
Sorry was not something I liked to feel for goats. Nor the Bear. Although, I had attuned to Max’s condition better than Tater’s.
The farm lane appeared clear to the split where I’d follow the right fork toward the house. A big Bradford pear and oak tree usually shaded the brick ranch from my view, but the pear had lost most of its leaves. A slash of white appeared behind the oak’s thick trunk, but disappeared as the goat lurched in a jerky gallop past the tree. I slowed the truck and rolled down the window, calling out to Tater. Woodsmoke from some distant farm scented my cab. Beneath my tires, gravel and acorns popped and crunched, masking the trap-trap-trapping of goat hooves. Spying Grandpa’s spindly form near the back fence, I waved. A sickening thud sounded from the side of the Datsun. The truck rocked. I jerked the shifter into park as my foot jammed the brake.
“Shit,” I yelled, scrambling from my seat. I had finally done it. I had run over that damn goat.
Leaving the door swinging, I circled the truck but saw nothing but a deep crease in the passenger door. I dropped to my knees and peered under the truck. No dead goat. I rose and faced the laughing bray of the amber-eyed hellion. Through my passenger window.
“How did you do that?” I jerked on the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. “You. Get out of my truck. What have you done to my door?”
I checked the pop-up lock, but it was up. After pulling on the handle twenty times, I walked around the truck and attempted to grab Tater’s horns to pull him out of the truck.
Which didn’t work.
I abandoned the truck and the goat to join Grandpa at the back fence. He hung a hand through the barbed wire, feeding carrots to a new kid. The sable pipsqueak made quick work of the carrot and abandoned Grandpa to ram his soft brown head against my knees. I reached through to give him a pat and then yanked my hand back when he decided my fingers might taste better than a carrot.
“In his condition, Tater shouldn’t be allowed to wander the yard.” I told Grandpa after a quick peck on his grizzled cheek. “I almost hit him with my truck. Now my passenger side door won’t open.”
“Looked to me like he got you first,” said Grandpa. “I can’t have him in the back forty right now. He’s gotten himself in a bit of a spot.”
“What happened?”
“Can’t keep him with the other bucks, because they give him a hard time.”
“Because of his gimp? Do they laugh and call him names? Never let poor Tater play in any four-legged goat games?”
Grandpa shot me a side glance that cut off my joke. “Seems his bad leg gave him an extra shot of testosterone. He fights all the time. So I put him with the does, which is about the dumbest idea I’ve ever had.”
“Uh oh.”
“Pearl’s ticked. She won’t cook for me. I’ve been eating sandwiches and canned soup the past week.”
“Well, that shoots my meal plan to hell. Let me see if I can talk to her,” I said.
Something like a smile crossed Grandpa’s face, and he pulled a couple carrots from his pocket, offering me one. “Thank you, hon’.”
I shoved the carrot into my pocket. “Grandpa, is Cody here? I need to talk to him.”
Grandpa shook his head and spat an end of a carrot in the direction of the barns. “I haven’t seen him nor your sister in quite a while.”
“I’ll send Casey over to visit. She’s chock full of wedded bliss.”
“I suppose.” He sighed. “At least, when you married that idiot, you fixed it straight away. Glad you’re not seeing that cop no more neither. I know Will Thompson likes that boy, but I’d rather you not associate with him.”
I avoided looking at Grandpa by squatting to pet the kid. “Why’s that? Because Luke Harper broke my heart at one point?”
“Naw, that’s going to happen. Because his momma’s married to a Branson. We stay clear of them folks. When they get ticked, they’re meaner than vipers. With your mouth, you’re likely to step on toes in that house and get yourself in all kinds of trouble.”
“Thanks for that vote of confidence.” I rose, dusting my hands of dirt and goat spittle. “Luke’s mother may be married to JB, but Luke’s no Branson.”
“Don’t matter. He ain’t gonna turn his back on his momma, no matter who she’s married to.”
With those words of wisdom ringing in my ears, I headed to the house. Inside the sunny yellow kitchen, I found Pearl wiping out cupboards. The house hadn’t been this clean since Grandma Jo was alive.
“Pearl, you need to forgive Grandpa.” I walked to the sink to wash my hands of goat schmeg.
Pearl carried the stack of dishes to the old rattan table. The spikes in her short, iron gray hair drooped and the goat tattoo emblazoning her left breast sagged more than usual. She adjusted her black Harley tank and folded her arms over her ample chest.
“I am a forgiving person. But now that we’re in a family way, he needs to make clear his intentions.”
I whipped around, flinging water with my turn. My eyes ached from their head-pop. I’d never scrub my brain clean of the images her
statement produced. “Oh my stars. Are you sure? Aren’t you kind of, you know, old?”
“Well, I never.” Two bright spots burned in Pearl’s cheeks. “Who are you calling old? I’ve got some good, long years left in me.”
“I’m just talking statistically.”
“Statistically, you’re about to get run out of this house.” She narrowed her eyes.
“Have you seen a doctor?”
“Why would I need to see a doctor?”
I paused, then retraced our recent conversation. “What did you mean by family way?”
“That damn Saanen, Tater. My best doe was in heat. I wanted her with a full-bred Sable. I expect some compensation.”
I sagged against the sink. “Thank the Lord.”
“Why are you so pleased with that coupling?”
“Never mind.” Although relieved not to think of Grandpa and Pearl, I grimaced at the thought of Tater-Snickerdoodle spawn. Tater annoyed me. Snickerdoodle scared the crap out of me. “Hey Pearl, do you know where Cody is living?”
Pearl sank onto a kitchen chair. “No, I don’t. I’m worried about that brother of yours. Something’s bothering him. Does he have girl troubles?”
“I don’t think so.” Unless you counted my mother as a girl. “Has Grandpa told you much of our family history? Like what happened to my momma?”
“Ed isn’t much of a talker, you know that.” Pearl waved me over to the table, and I dropped into a chair across from her. “I know he and Josie Ballard raised you Tucker kids after your momma left. I thought she went back to Missouri. Isn’t that where your daddy was from?”
“Yes.” I leaned my elbows on the table. “But he didn’t have much family back there. I can’t think of a reason for her to go back to Missouri.”
“It’s too bad Christy Tucker turned out to be so shameless. Just don’t go thinking any of that rubbed off. Y’all are Ed and Jo’s kids as much as hers.”
“Nurture over nature, huh?” I said. “I’m having major man problems. I fear my apples are falling near that tree.”
DEATH IN PERSPECTIVE Page 7