Joan Hess - Arly Hanks 04 (7 page)

It had been easy to get into the PD through the back door. Ridiculously easy. If he'd had to worry about her returning while he stood there, sending flaming arrows at the wadded paper in the trashcan, maybe that would have increased his sense of danger.

He'd found the gun but had left it on the shelf. A bullet could miss its target. His weapon was fire. He could control fire, make it obey him, make it crackle and explode and ultimately suffocate the stars.

Had she been frightened when she found his message, or was she too stupid to understand that he was showing her that he was smarter than she would ever be? If she missed it this time, he'd be forced to show her again and again until she humbly acknowledged the truth.

Chapter 5

"WILD CHERRY WINE" (REVISED 5/20)

19 EXT. WIDOW THIGPEN'S HOUSE -- DAY

Billy Joe stops in the yard and gazes morosely back at the bedroom window. He then puts his hands in his pockets and heads for the gate. CAMERA WIDENS to include LUCINDA, who's waiting by the fence.

LUCINDA

Well, don't you look like what the cat spit up!

Sighing, Billy Joe joins her at the gate.

BILLY JOE

I ain't in the mood for your jokes. What do you want, Lucinda?

LUCINDA

No luck with Loretta, huh?

BILLY JOE

I'm tormented. I can't sleep at night thinkin' of Cooter Grimmley and what he aims to do to my angel.

LUCINDA

Mebbe I can help you all so you can be together.

BILLY JOE

(brokenly)

That'd be swell, Lucinda. Why don't I visit your trailer tonight so's we can figure out how to save Loretta?

LUCINDA

Lucinda'll take care of you, you poor baby. You can come at midnight ... or as many times as you want.

She puts her arms around him and gently kisses him.

DISSOLVE TO:

-- ==+== --

Ruby Bee was almost hidden behind the stack of towels in her arms, but she was eager to make her guests feel right at home. She couldn't precisely remember who all was staying where, so she decided to start at #2 and work her way around.

Since she couldn't knock, she kicked the door smartly, and when she heard it open, said, "I'm Ruby Bee. I brought you all some fresh linens."

"Put them on the bed," she heard Carlotta say in a distracted voice. "Fuzzy's telling everybody he saw it, damn it. He even mentioned the butterfly tattoo on her butt."

Ruby Bee blinked into the terry-cloth barrier. "I beg your pardon, but I'm not -- "

"He wouldn't know a butt from a butterfly," a male voice interrupted, relieving her of the necessity of further response. "You, put the towels down and pop on out of here like a champagne cork. Listen, baby, did you ask Fuzzy if -- "

"Hal," Carlotta said, "this is Ruby Bee Hanks, the owner of the motel and the adjoining restaurant. She's agreed to do breakfast and dinner whenever we want, and to pack sandwiches for lunch. Ruby Bee, this is Hal Desmond, the producer and director of Wild Cherry Wine, and the CEO of Glittertown Productions, Inc."

"Oh, right, yeah," Hal said in an unconvincing attempt at contriteness. "Glad to have you on the team, Aunt Bea."

Ruby Bee put down the towels and opened her mouth to correct him. However, she couldn't get it out (or much of anything beyond a gurgle) when she looked at the man on the bed and determined real fast that he was bucknaked.

Carlotta took the top towel and tossed it at him. "Cover yourself up, for pity's sake," she said. "She's going to think we're making a documentary about walruses."

Once he'd covered his privates with the towel, Ruby Bee took a better look at the fellow who was so all-fired important. He did bear a passing resemblance to a walrus, she thought with a wince. His face, on the other hand, made her think of Marjorie, what with his squinty little eyes and thick, wet lips. Raz would have been offended by the comparison.

"I'm real pleased to meet you," she said from a safe distance.

"Join the club. Now, if you'll excuse us, Carlotta and I are discussing the distribution of the last flick."

Before she could catch herself, Ruby Bee heard herself blurt, "Does it have a name yet?"

"At wrap it was Prickly Passion, but now -- who the hell knows?" Hal curled his lip at Carlotta, and his crackle of laughter could have sliced a ripe tomato. "Or cares?"

He began to toy with the towel. Ruby Bee snatched up most of the pile and fled out the door before he -- well, exposed himself like -- well, not like anyone she'd met before. Of course, she amended as she stopped to catch her breath, there was Burl Buchanon and his raincoat shenanigans, but everybody kind of got used to it, and before too long his family remembered a conveniently distant cousin in the Canadian wilderness.

She went on to #3 and knocked on the door, but no one answered and she figured it was Carlotta's room. Now that she'd come across Carlotta in the same room with a buck-naked man -- and not acting the least bit perturbed -- maybe the gal didn't deserve any towels.

Directly across the expanse of gravel was #4. Ruby Bee held her head high as she marched right over and knocked on the door.

"It's open!" yelled a male voice.

She'd had quite enough exposure for one day. "I brought you some extra towels," she yelled back, "but I'll just wait until you're decent!"

"That could take decades, considering the business we're in!"

Ruby Bee was still mulling that over when the door opened. The man was normal-looking and dressed in regular clothes. He gave her a smile. "I'm Buddy Meredith, madam. Please allow me to relieve you of this unconscionable burden."

"Haven't I seen you on television?"

"You and millions of other oblivious fans," he said, although nicely and with a little twinkle. "Most recently you might have seen me attempting to persuade you that my detergent is better than yours. It isn't, though; they just pay me to say so."

"You're the Wite & Brite man," Ruby Bee said, suddenly feeling woozy as she stood face to face with a celebrity. He was so close she could have touched him -- not that she'd have dared. "I tried it once, but I was a might disappointed with it." She realized what she said and blushed all the way up to her roots. "Not that it was your fault, Mr. Meredith. It was on sale, and I had a coupon, too."

"Please come in," he said with an eloquent flip of his hand.

Trembling, she entered the temporary abode of an honest-to-goodness television star. Two men were sitting on the nearer bed, a mess of cards and dollar bills scattered on the bedspread between them. One of them looked to be the other's grandfather, but it seemed the younger one, who was vaguely familiar, was old enough to drink whiskey and gamble. In the afternoon, too. She mutely held up the towels as an offering.

"This is our star, Frederick Marland," nice Mr. Meredith said, "and this is our production man, Fuzzy Indigo."

She was about to say howdy when she heard her name being hollered from the parking lot. Battling back a growl, she managed a polite smile. "I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Marland," she said to the handsome young man who was reputed to be a star even if she couldn't quite put her finger on where she'd seen him. "And you, too, Mr. Indigo. Welcome to Maggody and the Flamingo Motel. You be sure and call me night or day if -- "

"My goodness, Ruby Bee," Estelle gasped from the doorway, "I've been looking everywhere for you."

She stood there, blinking worse than a condemned man in the electric chair, until Ruby Bee took pity on her and introduced her to the three men. She wasn't the least bit surprised when Estelle pranced over to Mr. Meredith and said, "Ain't I seen you on television?"

"He's the Wite & Brite man," Ruby Bee said briskly. "I recognized him right off. Now, why in heaven's name were you out there bellowing like a sick cow? Don't you know the Flamingo Motel has paying customers that would appreciate a little peace and quiet?"

"We've got what some might call a situation in the kitchen," Estelle shot back.

"Ah, a situation," Frederick Marland said, mimicking Estelle's high-pitched voice and undeniably twangy accent. He did something to his face so he looked about sixteen years old. "Gee, I ain't seen a situation since Ma knocked over the butter chum and Granny slid right off the porch into the Mac bushes."

Reminding herself that he was a famous celebrity, Ruby Bee opted to ignore him and pulled Estelle over to the door. "What are you talking about?" she whispered.

"Kevin is what I'm talking about."

Over Estelle's shoulder, Ruby Bee watched nice Mr. Meredith sit down on the bed and begin to shuffle the cards. Famous Mr. Marland was still looking ever so proud of himself for being a smartmouth. The third man, the one who reminded her of a wino she'd seen in a Little Rock bus station, was staring at the wall, his lips moving just a little bit and his hand shaking enough to splatter the bedspread with drops of whiskey. He was a real odd fish, she thought before she returned to the business at hand, which was trying trying to figure out what Estelle was so antsy about.

"What about Kevin?" she said, still whispering.

"You know how you left Dahlia in charge of the bar and grill while you came out here to meet the movie stars before anyone else had a chance? Some of us had to change clothes before we could come over, but you just -- "

"What about Kevin?"

"Well," Estelle said slowly, making it clear Ruby Bee was going to suffer long and hard for upstaging some, "he found out that Dahlia's supposed to kiss one of these here actors -- when she's doing her role, naturally. I guess she didn't see fit to tell him beforehand, maybe on account of him being the jealous type. He upped and ordered her to give up her part. She didn't take kindly to being ordered to do anything, especially by Mr. Milquetoast hisself, so at the moment she's throwing pots and pans at him while he's scuttling around the kitchen like a gimpy cockroach, pleading with -- "

Ruby Bee shoved the towels into Estelle's arm and took off for the kitchen. All the way across the parking lot she kept thinking how Estelle had wasted all that time rambling like a free-range chicken instead of getting right to the point -- the point being that the kitchen was now a battlefield along the lines of Little Big Horn.

As she went into the barroom, she heard a crash that liked to give her a heart attack. Dahlia was shrieking so loudly that all the customers had given up trying to make conversation and were sitting there like they were in church. None of them looked bored, though. Every now and then there was a lull; Ruby Bee figured that Kevin was attempting to beg for his life, if not for her crockery.

She shoved open the kitchen door in time to see a pie pan sail across the room. A cookie sheet followed, as did a second pie pan. Dahlia was huffing and blowing so hard her face was scarlet, and her hair, recently styled by Estelle to look neat if not inspirational, was going every which way. She was sucking in air so loudly Ruby Bee wondered how there was any left.

"Dahlia O'Neill, you stop right this minute!" she ordered. "You, too, Kevin Buchanon -- wherever you are!"

Dahlia had her fist wrapped around the handle of a glass pitcher. "Jest show your face, Kevin Fitzgerald Buchanon! Jest show your filthy, male-chauvinist face!"

Ruby Bee grabbed the lip of the pitcher and held on. "I said we're not going to have any more of this! Didn't you hear me, missy?"

Dahlia's thick white fingers relented, and Ruby Bee snatched the pitcher to her chest and retreated a few steps. As she did so, Kevin's face rose from behind the counter in the middle of the room. In contrast to Dahlia's scarlet complexion, his face was whiter than the towels in #4 and almost as nubby with beads of sweat.

"I was just trying to reason with you, my sweetness," he bleated.

"No, you was trying to tell me what I can and can't do."

"But we're betrothed. You don't have any call to be kissing some man so that everybody in America can see you doing it." Dahlia put her hands on her hips and gave him a snooty smile. "Sez you."

"But I'm your fiancé," Kevin continued, "and I'm the one what ought to say whether or not you go kissing some fellow. How'd you feel if I was to go smooching with Miss D'Amourre or that other actress?"

Ruby Bee considered butting in, but instead busied herself assessing the damage to the kitchen (not too bad, mostly unbreakables, scattered around) and sopping up the conversation so she could repeat it later. After all, everyone in town took a genuine interest in the couple, particularly since they'd been accused of fornicating on a porch swing a while back. Ruby Bee had never believed one word of that.

"Miss D'Amourre wouldn't smooch with you if you was the last man on earth," Dahlia countered icily. "I have dreamed of being a movie star since I was little, and now I have the opportunity. If you got objections, Kevin Fitzgerald Buchanon, you can tell them to those lightning bugs you're so fond of counting out by Boone Creek!"

She nailed him with a salt shaker, then stomped out the back door, letting it slam behind her like a firecracker. The two remaining occupants exchanged looks; then Ruby Bee shrugged and told him to start picking up the pots and pans that were littered about like artillery shells (which, in a sense, they were).

"I don't understand women," Kevin said sadly. "Sometimes you'd think they were from another planet way out there. What am I gonna do?"

"Clean up this mess before I lose my temper and start throwing things at you," Ruby Bee said. "I reckon my aim's a darn sight better than Dahlia's." She went back into the bar, intending to continue back out to the motel units to distribute towels, but what she saw was enough to stop her cold.

Estelle was cozied up to the bar with nice Mr. Meredith, hanging on his every word like he was begging her to marry him. In one of the booths, Frederick Marland was surrounded by high-school girls, all tittering and begging for his autograph. Next to them, Fuzzy Indigo was gaping at Raz Buchanon, who appeared to be telling him something difficult to digest.

And in the last booth, way at the back, where it was almost too dark to read the menu, Jim Bob Buchanon was making cow eyes at the blond actress with the well-endowed body. Ruby Bee couldn't see if either of them was saying anything, but she figured there was some basic communication going on under the table.

She was still trying to take all this in when Carlotta and a decently attired Hal Desmond came through the door, muttering to each other, and flopped down in yet another booth. Somehow he looked different, and it took Ruby Bee a minute to realize he was wearing hair.

Ruby Bee couldn't decide if she was irked that half the town had swooped in like salivatin' turkey buzzards, or pleased that business was picking up. She finally reached for her apron, and was heading toward the booths when the door opened and in marched all sorts of folks, including Elsie McMay, Lottie Estes, Joyce Lambertino, a dozen more high-school girls, and the dispatcher from the sheriff's office. Shortly thereafter, Ruby Bee was so busy she found herself wishing Dahlia were there to help.