Mississippi Blues (28 page)

“I had to tell the Chief about that.” Trey motioned to the incriminating scrap of material. “You can imagine how well that went over.”

Jody squeezed Trey's shoulder. “Sorry, man.”

“Yeah.”

“I'm about done. Let's get out of here.” Jody packed his supplies.

• • •

Summer floored her old car. Hot tears flooded her eyes. She wanted only to get home and try to prepare for the inevitable. Somehow, she had to figure out how to brace both herself and Mama for Jace's capture and subsequent return to Angola. Now that they had a clear clue the Chief and his men would be relentless in finding their quarry. Closing her eyes, she said a quick prayer for Jace's safety. She hoped he would keep his head and give himself up without a fight. If he didn't, he might be shot.

At the speed she was driving, the trip to town only took a few minutes. Slowing automatically as she approached the beauty shop, she glanced at the windows as she drove by. Although it was almost two
A.M.
, the lights were on inside. Still steaming, and not wanting to go home, she pulled a U-turn and drove in beside Glory's aqua Taurus and parked. As she got out, a shadow fell across her door. Startled, she looked up into Galen's lopsided frown.

“Hello, Galen.” She wasn't in the mood to visit with him tonight. The vacant, dull look in his eyes gave her a shiver. Still, she made an effort to be polite. “How are you?”

“Not very good.” He lumbered out of the way when she opened her door and climbed out.

“What's wrong?” She stifled her impatience. He meant well and didn't deserve her wrath. A few minutes spent with him didn't hurt her and made him feel good.

He shuffled his big feet in the red dirt and a cloud of pink dirt flowed up around his ragged overall hems. His gaze was locked on the ground. “Miz Glory is mad at me.”

“Why? What did she say?” Sometimes Galen earned a little money by hauling trash or supplies for the beauty shop or Bill, the owner of the Dairy Queen across the street. Afterward, Galen often hung around the Curl Up and Dye waiting for a chance to talk to Summer.

“She told me to go away and not come back.” He did his little dance again. “I just want to help.”

She patted his bare, grimy arm. “I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it. Why don't you come back tomorrow and see if there's something we need you to do then?”

A lopsided grin split his triple-chinned face. “Yeah. That is what I will do.”

“Okay. See you then.” Waiting until he trudged away, Summer turned to go inside. What was wrong with Glory that she had snapped at Galen? Not ever a big fan of his, Glory still wasn't normally short with him either.

When Summer stepped inside, there was no sign of Glory, but the washing machine in the back room was running and the radio played a Johnny Cash tune. The overwhelming scent of bleach filled the air. “Glory? Are you around?”

“Back here.” She popped her head out of the door leading to the small room where they had a sink and a washer and dryer. “What're you doing out at this time of night?”

Summer poured them both a glass of iced tea and sat at her station. “Nothing.”

In a minute, Glory joined her, carrying a red-stained towel. It looked like Glory had touched up her vibrant auburn color again. She hated dark roots. The red dye was next to impossible to get out of their towels. “What's up? Shouldn't you be with your mama?”

“I called and Mama's fine.” Summer toyed with a brush. “I saw your car in the parking lot, and I didn't want to go home, so I thought I'd see what you were doing.” Summer dropped the brush and spun her chair from side to side. She glanced at the back room. “What's up?”

“I couldn't sleep either and I was just catching up on the towels. They were stacking up and I want to be ready for tomorrow. We've got a very heavy day ahead of us. Lots of bookings.” She sipped her tea. “Nothing interesting. What are you doing here?”

Summer avoided the question. “Did you yell at Galen about something? He was outside sulking. Said you told him to go away.”

Surprise flitted across Glory's face for a second. “Oh, yeah. He was sitting on the step, mooning around as usual. I told him to go on home.”

“Oh. Well, he took off.” Summer didn't think Glory was telling the complete truth, but dropped it. Her mind was still on Trey and what had happened between them.

Glory eyed her. “You didn't stop to talk about Galen. What's on your mind? Your brother? Have you heard anything?”

Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes and Summer brushed them away. “Yeah, sorta. I went to the Chief's boat to meet Trey. He found a skirt that he's sure belongs to Lindy and a jumpsuit with Jace's number on it. Trey got all excited and called his dad … ”

Glory held up her hand. “What? Wait. You lost me. You went to meet the hot guy? Why? Tell me about the suit, but I want all the juicy details about hunky Trey.”

“It's a long story.” Summer leaned back in her chair and glanced at her pale reflection in the mirror. She played with the ends of her hair. Anything to avoid Glory's knowing gaze.

“Well, spill it. I have all night.” Glory's eager voice pierced her reluctance. “Why did you go to see Trey?”

“Because I have this picture that I wanted him to see … ” Her voice trailed off. The picture. She didn't have it. Trey did. The last time she'd seen it, he had been picking it up from where she'd dropped it on the ground. Crap. Somehow, she'd have to get it back. That meant seeing him again.

“See what?” Glory prompted.

Summer didn't really want to get into any of this with Glory. But she should've known better. When she shot a glance Glory's direction, she had leaned forward, her freckled cleavage spilling out of her low-cut purple top. “Picture? Of what? Was it something naughty?” She licked her glossed lips and arched her penciled brows.

With a sigh, Summer said, “I found this picture with five people in it, including my mother, Trey's mother, Leroy Eaton, Buford Krebbs, and,” she took a breath, “Deke Soloman.”

Glory's mouth fell open. “What?”

“It gets worse,” Summer said. “Trey's mother is sitting on that nasty man's lap and they're drinking. They look like they're having one big, happy party. It makes me sick when I think about it. And it doesn't end there. What if the Chief somehow knew his sainted wife and my mama were partying before the rape? Do you think it might've colored his response to her? I don't want to believe he'd be so awful, but it makes me wonder.”

“My God,” Glory breathed. “Do you know when this was, or where it happened? It opens a whole suitcase full of worms and questions, doesn't it?”

Summer shrugged helplessly. “Not a clue when or where. That's what I wanted to see Trey about. I couldn't think of anyone else to ask. Mama's out of the question; so is Emily Bouché. I just can't talk to Buford Krebbs. He's so nasty toward me and if his wife gets wind of this, she'll spread it all over town. Trey seemed like the logical person to talk to about it. I thought if we put our heads together we might be able to help Jace.”

“How could you help him by knowing where the picture was taken?” Glory asked.

“Not so much where, but when. I think it was the night Trey and Jace graduated from high school. Mama is wearing the dress she had on when she was raped. She never wore it before or after. But that isn't the important thing. What matters is that all of those people were with Soloman. Maybe one of them had a reason to kill him. It's a long shot, but it's worth checking out.” She took a long, shuddering breath.

“Did Trey come up with anything?” Glory's voice trembled. “Because if you did, justice has to be served. The real killer should be punished.”

“No,” Summer said miserably. “Trey found Lindy's skirt and the picture was kind of forgotten. And I won't ask again.”

“Even if it means your brother's freedom?” Glory sat back and crossed her arms. “You don't exactly have a choice, do you?”

“I guess not,” Summer said reluctantly. She didn't want to see Trey.

• • •

The scent of pine and black Mississippi dirt blew in the windows as Trey drove back toward Juliet. After Jody left, he'd spent the night on the boat, unwilling to go home. He inhaled, enjoying the clean scent. His mind turned in another direction. Summer. His good feeling disappeared. Things always seemed to go wrong between them.

His mind drifted to the picture.

Leroy Eaton had been in it. His place wasn't far from here. Maybe Trey could sneak in and find something that would tie Leroy to his mother and the others. He slowed, checking mailbox addresses for Eaton. Trey realized Shantytown was less than a mile away, not that it mattered. He nearly missed the mailbox, hidden under an untrimmed mound of kudzu. The dirt road snaked off the narrow highway. Making a U-turn, he turned up the overgrown road, hoping he didn't tear the bottom out of the Mustang.

After a bone-jarring ride that seemed to go on forever, Trey pulled into a clearing. Leroy's place was filled with piles of junk, mostly twisted, rusted parts that took up every inch of available space. A few goats grazed in a weedy field. When a half-dozen tethered hounds began howling at his arrival, the goats scattered like buckshot. Trey spotted a dilapidated singlewide trailer on flat tires sitting back in the edge of the trees.

A pickup with a paint job that looked over a decade old sat in the yard. He parked next to it and stepped out. Taking care not to stumble over the stacks of odds and ends, he walked to the door and tried the doorknob. To his surprise, the house was locked. No one bolted their doors in Juliet. Not even at
LeFleur
.

Glancing around, he wondered where Leroy had killed himself. Maybe the barn, more of a shed really. Trey made his way through thigh-high weeds, hoping no snakes lurked there. He passed an old-fashioned hand pump, avoiding the mud puddle at its base.

At his approach, the goats surrounded him, nuzzling, looking for a treat. Pushing them out of the way, he went inside the barn. Not certain it wouldn't fall over on him, he stopped right inside the doorway and let his eyes adjust to the dim interior. When his pupils widened enough to focus, he cursed aloud.

A milking stool lay on its side.

Someone drove up as Trey was leaving the shed.

Jody. As he drew close he said, “What's up with you? Every time I turn around, you're tripping over a body or something. I'm beginning to think you're somehow involved in this whole thing.”

Trey shook his head. “There's nothing that connects me to all of these incidents. Eaton has no links to me at all.”

Jody didn't look convinced. “Why'd you come here?”

“Eaton and Buford Krebbs were arguing at the picnic. I thought I might find a clue as to what they were fighting about.”

“Old men argue about the weather,” Jody grumped. “But it is a bit suspicious that Eaton committed suicide the same day. What were they talking about?”

“I thought maybe what happened with Soloman and Jace.” Trey parted with this reluctantly. He was reaching. Saying it out loud sounded ridiculous.

Jody's eyebrows shot up. “Why would those men have anything to add to that old story?”

“I don't know. The murder and everything that went on around it was the biggest thing that ever happened in Juliet. They were talking about Jimmy Ray and when Leroy said it was just like last time, it struck a chord with me. I knew it was a long shot, but I just wanted to see if there was anything to my theory.” He kept the picture to himself. He wanted to figure out what it meant on his own.

“Did either of them act suicidal at the picnic?” Jody asked.

“Not particularly. But Leroy did act a little weird when Krebbs shut him up.” Trey frowned trying to remember if Leroy had given any clues to how upset he actually was. Nothing came to mind.

“You didn't see any signs that he planned to go home and kill himself? What about Krebbs? Anything weird with him?” Jody waited while Trey thought about it.

“No, nothing.” Nothing jumped out at him.

Jody sighed. “Juliet is turning into a regular crime bed.”

Jace slept most of the day.

Lindy guessed his adrenaline had finally run down and exhaustion had set in. To occupy herself, she'd painted her fingernails and toenails with some of the supplies Candy had brought her. But when she'd reached for the makeup kit, Jace's words from the previous night rang in her ears
“This God-awful color. You used to have the most beautiful sunny hair. And your face. What's with all this junk on it? Candy might need all that crap, but you're too pretty to do that to yourself.”

She applied a touch of mascara and a light pink tint to her lips. Would he approve? No matter. Her opinion was the only one that counted.

If she weren't a strong-minded person, she wouldn't have been able to stand up to the Chief for the last year. If he had his way, she'd be enrolled in Ole Miss or Vanderbilt. She sure wouldn't have run with Candy and her crowd if she had any worries about what most of the town thought. And she wouldn't be in love with a convicted murderer.

In love?

She knew she was in her heart.

Although she had no doubts about Jace's innocence, she wished there was a way to prove it. Together, they had racked their brains but hadn't come up with anything viable. There had to be something they'd overlooked. A clue had to point to the real killer. But where? Lindy snapped her fingers. She spoke aloud. “That's it. The Chief's files. If there's something, that's where it'll be.”

She almost danced to the bedroom door to tell Jace her idea. He lay sprawled across the bed his face pillowed in his arms. For a minute, she just stared at him awestruck. The muscles in his bare back mesmerized her. She longed to trace their path with her fingertips. Her gaze dropped to his magnificent ass. Encased in Levi's that had to be an old pair belonging to Trey, his ass begged to be caressed by a woman's hands.
Her hands.
She swallowed.