Black Beans & Vice (17 page)

"What should I do?" James hated the plaintive sound to his
voice, but he couldn't help it. "I'm not worried about me, but I feel
like Jane and Eliot are vulnerable. The cops have put her place on
their drive-by list, but now that I've received this, it's clear that this person followed her to my house. Jane's got some kind of psycho
stalker!"

Lucy studied the note a little longer. "You'd better come inside.
I'd like to show this to Sullie and get his take."

So that's who owns the Camaro, James thought and was surprised at how quickly Sullie and Lucy had become intimate, as her
previous attire strongly indicated.

Half expecting to see Sullie lounging on the sofa wearing silk
boxers while Barry White's voice crooned from the stereo, James
entered the house hesitantly. Instead, he found the hunky deputy
seated at the kitchen table, sipping a bottle of Budweiser as he
paged through a magazine. Like Lucy, he was clad in sweats and a
T-shirt. Upon seeing James, he jumped up and smiled.

"Good to see you, man! You're lookin' well" He grasped James'
hand and shook it heartily.

"You too," James answered, observing Sullie's manly jaw, mammoth shoulders, and tree trunk legs. The man looked like he'd
been carved from a block of limestone. Though he didn't possess
the sharpest of wits, he was handsome and extremely friendly.
James had done his best to cultivate a dislike for the man in the
past, but found he harbored no ill will toward the amiable deputy.

"Welcome back to Quincy's Gap, Sullie. I truly apologize for
disturbing your evening, but I'm feeling a little desperate." James
gestured at Lucy. "She's always been the problem-solver of our
group and I've got a major problem."

Lucy gave him a grateful smile and then placed the note in the
center of the table. When she spoke, it was with the voice of an officer of the law. She reviewed the pertinent details for Sullie and
then awaited his assessment.

"Your ex-wife believes the perp could be one of her students?"
Sullie asked.

James shrugged. "It seemed like the most logical conclusion at
the time, but now that I've gotten this note ... well, it's just hard to
imagine a disgruntled coed tracking me down and leaving me this
letter because of a low exam grade."

"Do you and Jane share any common enemies?" Lucy's fingertips hovered just above the crow's feather. "Perhaps someone who
likes birds or spends a lot of time outdoors?"

Sullie nodded, as though Lucy's question was a sound one. He
then crossed the kitchen in three strides and retrieved two bottles
of Bud from the refrigerator. Popping the caps off into the garbage
can, he handed one to James and offered the second to Lucy. She
declined, her attention fixed on the letter.

"Honestly, the only person who might have reason to dislike us
both is Murphy" James felt his cheeks rush with heat. "I think she
planned on rekindling our old flame upon her return to Quincy's
Gap and wasn't too thrilled to hear that I had a son and was on
great terms with my ex-wife."

Lucy's expression was masked and James hoped he hadn't offended her. In describing Murphy's hopes, he'd basically described
the way Lucy had felt until very recently. She remained silent, but
Sullie took a swig from his beer and said, "Makes sense. If Murphy
wants you to stay away from your ex and is angry about you two
spending time together, then she might have written this"

"Still, I can't see her driving to Harrisonburg and nailing a
dead crow on Jane's front door," James protested. "You'd have to be
pretty twisted to do that."

James had barely finished speaking when Lucy slapped her
palms against the table, startling both men. "May I remind you
that this woman was secretly writing a book about you, about us,
the whole time you were dating? Don't underestimate what she's
capable off

Chastised, James pretended to be very interested in the pattern
of Lucy's linoleum floor.

She touched him briefly on the arm, as though to apologize for
being harsh. "The least I can do is find out what Murphy was up to
this evening. Not officially, of course, but I know she'll be at The
Sweet Tooth tomorrow morning, picking up coffee and a croissant, and I can casually question her then." Lucy frowned. "That
woman eats carbs every single day and is thinner than a tomato
stake. It's just not fair."

"Men don't like women to be skin and bones." Sullie put a
proprietary hand on Lucy's hip. "We want soft curves with just
the right amount of steel underneath. Like you, baby. You're all
woman.

Seeming embarrassed but pleased, Lucy removed Sullie's hand
from her hip and kissed him on the palm. James resumed his interest in the diamond pattern on the floor as the pair of deputies
exchanged murmured endearments. Finally, he cleared his throat
and said, "Well, I'd better be on my way. Thanks for hearing me
out-both of you." He gestured at the letter. "Should I leave this
with you?"

Lucy nodded and accompanied him to the door. "If I think
Murphy is lying to me about her whereabouts this evening, I'll
whip this out and see if it creates a reaction." Her blue eyes flashed, reminding James of the aggressive glimmer he'd seen in her dogs'
eyes when he'd first arrived.

"I know you'd like to bring Murphy down a peg," James said
softly. "Lord knows she deserves some kind of comeuppance besides fame and fortune, but I still can't imagine her doing something like this."

The pair stood on the stoop for a moment, watching the moths
flutter around the lamppost guarding the entrance of Lucy's path.
James experienced a strong surge of deja vu, for he and Lucy had
lingered in this spot many times before, as good friends and later,
as lovers. For months, a feeling of awkwardness had existed between them, but James wanted their relationship to return to what
it had been when they'd first formed the supper club. Glancing at
her, James wondered how to express this desire.

"This is good," he said, once the silence had stretched on too
long. "You and Sullie. I know it's a relatively new thing, but you
seem right for one another. There's an ease between you two that
usually only develops after a couple has been together for a long
time" He cleared his throat and continued. "You're one of my best
friends, Lucy. I want you to be happy. Thanks again for being so
gracious tonight."

Giving her a smile, he began to walk toward the Bronco.

"James!" Lucy called after him. "I'll also check in with the Harrisonburg police tomorrow. Let them know that the person bothering Jane is up to something down here too. That ought to ensure her house stays on their patrol list a little longer." She put her
hands on her hips, doing her best to look fierce. "At least that'll
give you some peace of mind. And I'll be driving by your place my self. After all, nobody messes with one of my dearest friends and
gets away with it"

And just like that, their friendship was restored.

James drove home beneath the white light of the full moon.
Hung high in the sky among a cluster of stars and a brighter orb
that was likely a planet, the moon seemed to grin down upon the
round hills of the Shenandoah Valley.

Back at home, James took a beer out to the deck and settled
into a plastic lounge chair. He listened to a chorus of crickets
and the buzzing of other insects until his grumbling stomach reminded him that he'd neglected to eat dinner. It was late and he
was tired, so he settled for a generous snack of Jalapefio -flavored
Pringles. He sat this way for a long time, his anxiety ebbing away
as the night wore on. Sighing, he let his body sink into the chair
and as his lids grew heavy, James realized he'd eaten the entire tube
of potato chips.

This does not bode well for tomorrow's weigh-in, he thought
and sluggishly climbed into bed. Still, he decided that a threatening note could force even the most disciplined eater into a junk
food binge. Anyway, it's not like I had a bunch of sugar, he reasoned before drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, James shucked off his T-shirt and pajama
bottoms and prepared to face off against the scale. It had nearly
killed him to go through an entire week without weighing himself.
He was, after all, a creature of habit and it was his habit to wake
up, shuffle into the bathroom, turn on the shower, and shed his
clothes. He'd then put his hands on his belly in front of his bath room mirror, pivoting this way and that and squeezing his flesh,
trying to determine whether his paunch felt bigger or smaller than
the day before.

Pinching the flesh around his belly button, James' hand would
then travel to his love handles. He'd grasp them between his hands,
wiggling the flesh up and down. Finally, he'd suck in a deep breath
and watch his stomach shrink by several inches.

Now, having gone through his usual routine, he murmured to
the bathroom mirror, "Doesn't feel any different. Let's see what the
numbers have to say."

As was customary, James inhaled a giant breath and then forcefully exhaled. When he felt as though every ounce of air had been
expelled from his lungs, he stepped on the scale. Shifting until his
feet were perfectly centered on the glass surface, he held himself
as still as possible and waited for the digital numbers to surface in
their silver window. He never breathed until they'd revealed themselves. Now, as his weight appeared, his inhalation was sharp with
frustration and disappointment.

"I haven't lost a thing!" he shouted at the device. "Why bother
giving up sugar when my weight stays exactly the same!"

In the shower, he angrily massaged shampoo into his hair and
then scrubbed his skin roughly, using a washcloth, as though punishing his body for a less-than-desirable result during the daily
weigh-in.

By the time James reached the library, his mood had improved
slightly due to a large cup of creamy coffee and a nutritious breakfast of whole grain waffles and strawberries. When he saw Francis
and Scott pedaling into the parking lot on their mountain bikes, racing to see who would reach the book drop first, he couldn't stop
his mouth from curving into a grin.

"Whoa!" Francis shouted. "You're like a lightning bolt today,
bro! You must really want to get busy training Fern over in the
Tech Corner, huh?"

Scott's cheeks burned red and he punched his twin in the arm.
"Shut up, dude!" Next, he chained his bike to the rack and jogged
up the stairs, saluting James when he reached the top. "We're all set
for Mrs. Waxman's retirement party, Professor."

"Milla and Willow told us they'd handle the food, so all we
have to do is make the punch and decorate," Francis chimed in as
the three men entered the library. "Um, should one of the punch
bowls be spiked, Professor?"

"Absolutely. And I've got an amazing gift idea lined up, assuming my father can paint as fast as you two can ride those bikes,"
James said. "Ah, here comes Fern for her final day of training. She's
a quick study, isn't she gentlemen?"

"Too quick. I wish I had more time with her," Scott muttered
and then beamed at Fern as she breezed through the security gate,
the full skirt of her rose-colored sundress flowing behind her. Her
eyes immediately sought Scott's and she gave him a special smile
before greeting James and Francis.

The four librarians prepared for their first patrons of the day.
When the clock struck nine, people trickled into the building and
the library hummed softly with activity all morning long. Just before lunch, James heard an inappropriately loud and combative
voice from the direction of the circulation desk. He'd been busy
helping old Mrs. Withers navigate the computer. Having decided
to sell her collection of Beanie Babies, she wanted to look up cur rent market values on eBay. James had directed her to the online
auction site and then paled when she produced a notebook filled
with pages of Beanie Baby inventory.

"You'd like to check the value of each of these?" He asked,
dreading her reply. "How many do you have, ma'am?"

"Oh, a thousand or so," Mrs. Withers replied merrily and patted the notebook. "I'm hopin' to raise enough money to take my
daughter on a little trip. She hasn't been away since Roy Junior
was born and that was five years ago. She won't leave the boy, but
if I buy the tickets, she'll feel like she has to go." She pursed her
lips. "Parents hover too much nowadays. When I was a mother I
had my own life. I played bridge and tennis and was president of
the gardening club. My girl needs to cut the damned cord and I'm
gonna help her do it!"

Using his concern over the raised voice at the circulation desk
as a reason to avoid several hours of eBay tutelage, James excused
himself and hustled off.

He was most surprised to see Murphy and Tia in a standoff
against Scott. Of course, Tia was the only one not speaking in
hushed tones. Standing with one hand on her left hip, she gesticulated wildly with the other, clearly ignoring Scott's requests to
lower her voice.