3 A Brewski for the Old Man (9 page)

“Now, don’t blow your top until I’ve said it all.” Yeah, right, as if that was ever going to happen.

He took a deep pull at the bottle. Lowering it, he said, “Okay.”

I told him about Ray John.

Somehow he kept quiet through my long confession and in the end he said, “You should have shot the bastard. Better still,” he stuck a forefinger in my face, “you should have told me and let me kill him.”

This was going well. He was mad but not crazy. Not yet. “Which is exactly why I didn’t tell you.” He glared at me.

“I’m only telling you now so you won’t be blindsided when it hits the papers.” Not that Tully ever wasted time with the news, treating it with equal parts of disgust and scorn, but surely he had to have one friend or acquaintance who could read.

A man came through the door, looked around, saw us and said, “Hey, Tully.” He started towards us. “Bugger off,” Daddy snarled.

It was fun to watch. The guy’s eyes got wide, he leaned away from us at the same time as he executed a perfect pirouette, one leg bending up behind the other, and with his arms out for balance before both feet hit the floor, headed for the opposite end of the room.

Tully didn’t seem to be impressed. Guess he was just used to people buggering off when he told them to, a trick I was seriously envious of.

“This guy Leenders going to give you any problem, I mean is he stalking you or something?”

“No. Anyway I live in the most secure building in the world and Clay’s there. Well, normally he’s there. He and another couple of guys have entered their sloop in a yacht race. He’ll be back next week.”

It occurred to me that I hadn’t told my father I was living with Clay, and had never introduced them, but Tully was focused on the bad news.

“You want me to stay with you ’til he gets back?” The shock must have shown on my face because he added, “I’ll do it if you want me to. Or you can come out and stay with me.” Now, the inside of Tully’s house looked like he was getting ready for a giant jumble sale, with diving gear, fishing tackle and tools piled on the chairs and the tables or on the floor, left just where he’d dropped them after last using them. But still he’d asked.

“No need for that,” I assured him.

“Still you need someone there. You don’t want to be alone while this is going on.” What comes after shock?

Tully nodded, deciding his idea was a good one. “I better come over.” “Why?”

“Hey, I’m your dad.

“Yeah, I remember.” I smiled at him. “Marley’s staying with me. And Lacey, Ray John’s stepdaughter, a houseful, but thanks anyway.”

He still wasn’t convinced. “Seems some muscle might be needed.”

“I’ll call if I need you.”

“Or call if you change your mind and want me to just shoot the son of a bitch. Save you all that court time.”

“Naw, I’ll give that a pass.”

He nodded, slowly, watching me. “You really made something of yourself, a restaurant and all.”

“Yeah, it’s a real glamorous life. This morning my cleaner didn’t show up so I ended up cleaning the toilets and running the vacuum around myself. Then the chicken supplier, I’m supposed to be there now by the way, refused to deliver any more chicken ’cause his bill is past sixty days. I’m on my way out there now to deliver a check that may even clear the bank, given a good night, and pick up about a hundred pounds of chicken. Meanwhile, the chef is trying to kill the sous-chef because he used the wrong marinade. Yup, I’m all about glamour.”

He was smiling. Hot dog, the man was actually finding me amusing.

“By the way, do you think Ruth Ann is ever coming back?” I asked, pushing my luck now that I had him in a good mood.

“Nope.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Seems all right. It’s just you and me now, kid.” All rightie then, that took care of that subject.

His smile was making me feel reckless and I was about to ask if there was anyone special in his life when the food arrived and saved me from that gross stupidity.

Halfway through the grilled cheese, the door opened and six raucous bikers flowed in, and then someone started up the music and Toby Keith started singing about how he loved this bar.

“This place isn’t much different from the first bar I worked in,” I told Tully. “When Jimmy went off to college on that golf scholarship and I followed him, he started doing some really heavy stuff. I had to get a job to support us. It was a bar pretty much like this, only in those days it was full of smoke.”

“We still smoke in here.”

“How does the Florida health department feel about that?”

“They don’t have much pull at the Dog Trot.”

“I’m thinking they’ve never even been through the door.”

I tried Rena at the store twice on the way back to town. Still no answer. I tried her house. Nothing.

“Shit.”

I didn’t want to go back to Blossom Avenue, but lots of horrific scenarios were running through my mind and I knew no matter what went wrong, Rena didn’t close the store. What had I started? And what was I going to find in that neat little white house?

Outside the white bungalow everything looked quiet and normal, no police cars, ambulances or yellow crime-scene tape. Only one vehicle stood in the drive, Rena’s sedan. I had a good look at the house — nothing that shouldn’t be there, no broken windows, nothing out of place. No one was screaming for help.

Should I take my gun? I felt exposed and vulnerable without it but how likely was Ray John to be here if his SUV wasn’t? And I had nothing to fear from Rena, right? I took a deep breath and let it out and then I left the safety of the pick-up, the ping, ping, ping of the open door calling me back.

I pressed the bell and had another good look around. Down the street a guy was pushing a lawn mower around a square of already perfect grass. If I yelled for help, would he hear me? Not likely over the racket he was making. The grass smelled nice though, nice and normal. I was growing real fond of normal.

I waited for Rena to open the door, going from apprehensive to bored and then, when I’d pushed the doorbell three times, I went back to worried. Finally I decided she’d gone somewhere with Ray John. But why? And would she have left Lacey behind? Ray John sure as hell wouldn’t. And Rena wouldn’t close the store for anything. Like me she was swimming too close to the mouth of the shark not to pay attention. Something was wrong here.

A new possibility occurred to me. How did I know Lacey was still at school? I decided to go back to the truck and call Rena’s cell one more time before I called the police. If Rena and Ray John had taken off with Lacey, I was sending the cops after them and let the shit fly where it may.

I turned for the truck just as the door cracked. No words were spoken and I couldn’t see who was there in the dark. “Rena?” I asked. The door opened a little more.

I started to make a joke then I saw her face. “I was worried about you,” I told Rena through the four-inch opening.

I took in her condition. She looked like she’d crawled out of a concrete mixer. Her whirlwind hair had been combed by a blender, matted in places and sticking out from her head in others. An angry bruise was forming on her left cheek; a trickle of blood crept from her cracked lip. One eye was already closed and blood stained her satin top.

Through stiff lips she lisped, “Don’t worry about us, stop thinking about us, get out of our lives.” She started to close the door but I stuck my foot in the wedge.

I put my face closer to the crack. “Why aren’t you at the store? What happened?”

“None of your business.”

“I want to help.”

“Go away.” She was pushing hard on the door now, squeezing my foot. “I don’t need your help.”

“All right, all right but open the door a little. I have to get my foot out.”

As she opened the door a crack I pushed hard, sending her flying backwards into the hall. She recovered fast and flew at me, pushing and shoving me and slapping at me. “Get out, get out. I don’t want you here.”

My hands went up to fend off her blows while I was screaming back at her, “Ray John beat the crap out of you, I didn’t. Why are you taking it out on me?”

Slowly her rage ran away and she went perfectly still. Tears ran down her face.

“Are you satisfied?” she sobbed. She put her fingers up to her face. “You did this.”

“No I didn’t. I didn’t hit you. Ray John did and he’s been doing a lot worse to Lacey.”

She swung at me, first with her right and then with her left hand, more to shut me up, to stop me from blurting out the horrible truth she didn’t want to know than to really injure me, but it hurt anyway, battered my arms I’d put up to protect my head.

“Get out,” she screamed. “I don’t want to hear any more of your filth.” She was a whirlwind of blows and then she pushed me and I stumbled backwards out through the open door, slamming into the black wrought-iron railing. The door banged shut before I regained my balance.

I was left with a dilemma. Should I call the police and report Ray John for spousal abuse? Would that make the situation better or worse? And there was another question digging its way out of my brain. School would be out in twenty minutes — who, besides me, would be there waiting for Lacey when she came through the door?

I headed for the high school. I wasn’t equipped for this shit and I didn’t want to be responsible. But who else was there? Styles was the one who’d signed on for this when he’d picked up his badge. This was his problem, not mine. I dialed his number.

I cruised around the block checking out the cars waiting for kids while his phone rang. I left a message on the voice mail and tossed the mobile on the seat. I couldn’t wait for Styles. I turned around and drifted back up the block past the school.

No sign of Ray John unless he’d changed vehicles. I double-parked in front of the door, waiting and watching. Kids spilled out the big double doors, laughing and yelling, some lighting cigarettes before they were off school property — but no Lacey. The owner of the car I was blocking came out. I backed up, barely taking my eyes off the door. The rush dribbled down to a trickle.

I had to move for another car to get out. Now I was starting to panic. No good to call Rena; she might know where Lacey was but she wasn’t going to tell me.

My finger was punching Styles’ number again when Lacey came out. But she didn’t come far. She stopped on the stairs like a wary animal and looked around. Only when she saw the little red pickup did she come down the stairs, still cautious, still ready to turn and run back inside to safety. Twenty yards from the truck she bolted. I reached over and opened the door for her. Safely inside, she turned and hit the lock.

“Take it easy,” I told her.

She was already looking out the rear window, searching for her tormentor.

“He isn’t here. I checked while I was waiting for you.” No answer.

“Let’s start over. Hi. How was your day?” She looked at me but didn’t answer. “Hungry?”

She shook her head. “Has your mom called?”

“No,” cautious and wary, waiting for the other shoe.

“She wasn’t feeling well, closed the store this afternoon. I was just wondering if she still wanted you to work.”

“I have a key.”

“Maybe we’ll just leave it closed for today.”

“No, no.” She shook her head in denial. “We can’t afford to have it closed.”

She couldn’t be talked out of it.

Rena wasn’t at the store when we pulled in. I went in with Lacey and watched her open up. Efficient and reliable, she had it all under control. How can a kid be so together in one part of her life and have the rest so messed up?

Styles called back when I went up the stairs. Our conversation didn’t make me feel any better. “I’m on my way to talk to Leenders.”

This was only likely to make Ray John madder and more desperate, but there was no way Styles was going to back off. I didn’t have a real good feeling about any of this.

I hung up and called Marley. “I’ve got a little problem.”

“Gee, that must be a novel experience for you.”

“Yeah, it is a pleasant change from my dull life.”

“Well, if it’s money you want, forget it. I’m only staying with you ’cause you’ve got food in the fridge. When it’s gone, so am I.”

“I can always use money, but at the moment it’s Lacey I’m worried about. Ray John beat Rena up today.”

“Shit,” Marley said when I told her about my little chat with Rena. I was too worried to take any joy in her lapse from grace.

“Lacey is alone in the store. I’m right upstairs but it’s kind of scary. What if Ray John comes for her?”

“He wouldn’t dare kidnap her in plain view of all those people coming and going.”

“I don’t know what he’ll do. I think he’s over the edge. Will you pick her up at nine and take her home? I’m short-staffed and won’t be able to get away until closing, and I don’t want to just take her back there and dump her, leave her alone at the apartment.”

“Sure, no problem. Better yet, give us each a free dinner and I’ll go to the store as soon as I get off work and hang out with her.”

“I don’t know if I can afford your friendship. You’re going to eat me into bankruptcy.”

“Who knew? You and food is still a novel concept but I knew if I hung in there long enough, knowing you would pay off in something besides laughs. My magnanimous forgiving nature and the bounty of my friendship is finally being rewarded.”

“You aren’t doing drugs, are you?”

“That would be your other best friend.”

“All right, dinner on me but you aren’t eating the whole damn menu. Chicken off the kids’ menu.”

She made a gross sound.

“Okay, okay, I’ll throw in a couple of salads.”

“What are you going to do, Sher? This situation is out of control. You need help. Get that guy off the street.”

“Styles tells me that won’t happen. If Rena denies Ray John hit her, nothing happens. And even if they do arrest him I have to be prepared for him to be back out in twenty-four hours. Best we can hope for is they’ll have a restraining order against him and he won’t be allowed back into the house but how will he react to that? Maybe it will just make him crazier.”

A new thought hit me. “For sure, Rena will take Lacey back now. I’m surprised she hasn’t yet. I bet she doesn’t want Lacey to see her face and know what happened. It might buy some time. I need to do something, but what? Where’s Miss Emma when I need her?”

It would be good to have someone older and wiser to help with this problem. Older, but not necessarily wiser, made me think of Tully. “I told Tully about Ray John.”

“Phew!” Marley spat out. “So sorry I missed that. How crazy did he get?”

“Took it fine. Didn’t break anything, shoot anything or even threaten to kill anyone. He did offer to off Ray John though. Wasn’t that sweet?”

“That would be mildly amusing if I didn’t know it was true. For sure he’d do it. Remember setting up bottles for him and your Uncle Ziggy to shoot? They barely waited for us to get out of the way before they started blasting away. Those two set a whole new standard for bizarre.”

“I learned to shoot out there. I’m quite a good shot.”

“Great, I’ll tell that to the reporter who interviews me after your arrest. You with a gun is just bad news.” I’d heard this before, which was why I hadn’t mentioned what was in the fanny pack.

I told Marley, “Things are bound to get nasty when this comes out. I’ll sound like just the sort of trash Bernice always said I was.”

“Hey, your mother-in-law is a whole lot trashier than you ever thought of being, just trash with money. Gotta go, my patient is here.”

All night I kept calling down to the Beach Bag to check on Lacey. Everything was fine. Nothing happened. Instead of reassuring me, it was freaking me out. When Skip dropped a tray of dirty glasses I jumped about two feet in the air.

The night slipped away with still no sign of Ray John, but he was out there waiting. Ray John wasn’t going to give up his victims that easy; I just didn’t know where or when he was going to come after them — or after me.

Marley called to say they’d closed the store. We stayed on the line until they were safely in Marley’s car. At the Tradewinds she called again and said, “We’re home but we were followed. He didn’t do anything. Didn’t even get out of the truck, but just his being there behind us freaked Lacey out.”

After the Sunset closed I had Miguel walk me to the truck.

“You all right?” he asked.