Something Bad (18 page)

“How old do they have to be to do the baptism?” Deena Lee called from across the café.

Teddy slapped the fuse box door shut and walked back to the counter, where he half-leaned with his weight supported by his right arm. “Don’t really matter that much, but better to do it sooner than later. You never know what’s going to happen, so it’s better to save their little souls early on.”

Deena Lee straightened the mat and returned to her station behind the counter, sliding up next to Teddy.

“I get the best feeling from being in church and listening to Reverend Sather. I want my little one to get the same feeling. I want the child to be like you, Teddy. Would you and Rachel be the godparents?”

Teddy leaned back as an ear-to-ear smile creased his cheeks. He grabbed Deena Lee and gave her a tilting hug. “We’d be proud.”

As business started to pick up again, the sky cleared and the sun came out. It shyly peeked around the billowing clouds, then, when the coast was clear, ventured into a clearing and beamed. Following suit, Deena Lee’s mind sneaked around in the clouds until finding the clarity to shine brightly about the baptism. There would be no more cloudy days on that matter.

G
ABE
s
TOMPED OVER
to the couch and flopped down next to Wanna. He fumbled with a crease in his overalls, then spun his head in her direction. “You’ve been under a black cloud lately. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Well.” Her squint made him pause. “You got to snap out of it. You ain’t been much help around here for the past week, with all the laying around. You sure you’re feeling all right?”

She threw her hands in the air and let them smack down on her thighs. “Why’s everyone asking if I’m feeling good? Do I look like I’ve been rolling in doggie doo or something?”

Gabe squeezed back a few inches and smiled. “Geez. Someone had an extra bowl of bitch flakes this morning.”

Wanna stared at Gabe. Her eyes watered. “It’s that damn Thibideaux.”

Gabe leaned away from the couch cushion. “What’d he do?”

“I saw him at the store last week.” She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “He said I didn’t look so good.”

Gabe rolled his eyes and relaxed into the couch. “Come on, Wanna. You look fine.”

“No, I don’t. It’s worse than the shrimp says. I can see it.” She smoothed her hands over her face. “I could get some of the store-bought vitamins, but I think I’m needing some of the strong ones. From Doc. Can you get some for me?” She put her hand on Gabe’s thigh. “Tell him I’m so worried I’m thinking of coming in to be examined.”

Gabe thought about Wanna’s fertile hypochondria and giggled. Then his mind took off. Kill two birds, he thought. “I’ll stop by the clinic tomorrow.”

“You keep your eyes off Misty’s titties when you go there. She’d be with you in an instant if you wanted it. I can see it in the way she looks at you.”

Gabe’s smile widened.

Gabe pulled a pill from each of the two containers and set them aside. Too bad Misty hadn’t been there when he stopped in at Doc’s. He poured a large glass of orange juice. One pill was large and he remembered how Wanna had trouble swallowing even average pills, unless she took a full mouthful of fluid before the pill and swallowed both together. The other pill wasn’t a problem. It was half the diameter of a pencil eraser, and thin enough to go down easily.

Wanna slumped on the couch, hypnotized by the television. “What’s up with the two pills?”

“Just what Doc gave me. He said the big one was to get your energy back and the small one was to put color in your cheeks.” Gabe pulled her shoulder away from the couch cushion and peered around at her backside. “Bend over after you take it and let me check to see if it’s working.”

J
OHN
J
OHNSON DIDN’T
move when the doorbell broke the silence of the house. A second ring and he pushed at the armrests of his chair, but to no avail. His mind told him it might be Mac—that he was off the hook. The whole thing was just a nightmare, he thought, hoped. Maybe he hadn’t really left Mac hanging when he fabricated a night out with his wife and instead spent it in bed, safe. Was he really that much of a coward?

The doorbell rang again, twice, three times, and John moved to the edge of the chair. Irritation elbowed its way in, doubling his emotional repertoire of the past forty-eight hours. Two more rings and he was at the door, ready to pounce. He yanked open the door. “What the hell’s so goddamn important?”

The door-draft startled Billy and his finger pressed and held the doorbell button for a final double ring. “John … I’m scared.”

John looked past Billy, to the right, and then he leaned around so he could see to the left. “Come in,” he said in a quick burst, like he was welcoming a spy after hearing the proper password.

Billy sat on the edge of the couch and leaned forward with his forearms on his thighs. “We need to go to the sheriff.”

John let his weight fall into his chair. He gripped the armrests. “It doesn’t make any sense, Billy. Mac lived in town, not in the highway route.”

“That don’t matter, John. He wasn’t killed. Thibideaux didn’t hurt Mac to get his property. He did it because Mac was checking him out. Besides—”

“What if we’re next?” John looked at his knees.

“Let me finish,” Billy said. “I talked with Doc. Something else happened that night. Mac had bruises all over the left side of his body, and his left knee was sprained. He had cuts under his left eye, and a split lip on the left side of his mouth. He needed three stitches for a gash on the left side of his forehead.”

John looked up at Billy. “So what?”

Billy moved forward a couple of inches. “The rake hit him in the top of the head, but to the right side. Doc can’t figure out how Mac got the other injuries. Come on, John. I can’t do this alone.”

John pushed his back against the seat cushion. “So, something happened to Mac before the rake hit him?”

“That’s what Doc thinks.”

“And it had nothing to do with the highway shunt?”

“Yeah.”

A smile slowly spread across John’s face. “So Thibideaux roughed Mac up for snooping. The sheriff will listen to that.”

S
HERIFF
S
AM
M
ERRIWETHER
was relatively young to have jurisdiction over a three county area, but in his thirty-one years, he had collected a series of life experiences that set him up for law enforcement. His father had been a police detective in Kansas City, where Sam started going on ride-alongs as soon as he was into puberty. He completed the ROTC program at the University of Kansas and served in the Army after graduation. He chose to get out after Desert Storm, not because of a dislike for the Army, but because he missed the thrill of law enforcement back home.

He breezed through the police academy in Kansas City, and when an opening came up for a sheriff in a rural tri-county area less than a day’s drive from home, he had his father pull some strings to get him on the interview list. The rest was his own doing—his personality, dedication and experience came through and Sam was selected.

Sam saw John Johnson heading for the door, followed by Billy Smyth, who stood a full head taller than John. Damn it, he thought. Just what I need today. I’m going to have to charge him with something one of these times or he’s going to keep doing the vigilante stuff until he hurts somebody.

John stomped through the door, followed by Billy. “Afternoon, Sam. I got something you need to hear.”

Sam didn’t let John continue. “I’m kind of busy, John. You haven’t been poking your nose in where it doesn’t belong again, have you? I’d hate to have to charge you with being a nuisance.”

John bumped Sam’s desk with his thighs. “Look here, Sam. This is about Mac. And more. We got something that’s about to boil over here and we need to do something about it now.”

Sam moved against the other side of the desk and looked down at John. “First, you calm down. Tell me what’s got your underwear in knots this time.” Sam was just short of six feet, and at one hundred eighty-five pounds, he was well endowed with muscle, although it wasn’t evident through his uniform. “Sit down, John.” It was an order, not an invitation.

John pulled a heavy wooden chair close to the desk. Billy sat back a foot, behind John’s shoulder.

“It’s about Thibideaux. He’s behind it all—”

“Hold on. As far as I know, Mr. Thibideaux has been minding his business since he arrived in Boyston. I haven’t had a single call to suggest he’s been anything but an upstanding citizen. If you go accusing innocent people again, I’ll write you up for false reporting.”

“But he ain’t innocent, Sam. Just let me explain what I’ve found and then you be the judge. Hear me out. Please.”

The plea caught Sam off guard. He hated John’s condescending attitude, which he attributed to John’s reaction to his youth and the fact he hadn’t grown up in the area. But this was the first time he’d heard John ask instead of demand.

“Okay, okay,” Sam said. He pulled his chair across the floor and the wheels squeaked until his weight hit the chair. “What have you got for me?” He looked over John’s shoulder at Billy, who returned his look with an eager grin.

Sam drew the left pullout panel of his desk to its limit and raised both of his legs onto it. He crossed them at the ankles and leaned back into his chair. He maintained eye contact as John explained his theory about the divided highway shunt, the best route, the number of farms in that and alternate routes, and the deaths of the families in the best route.

When John spread his tattered map on the desk, Sam pulled his legs down, swiveled them under the desk, and faced John, and the map.

John continued. When he came to Mac’s accident, Sam stood up and paced the office, occasionally looking at the two visitors. Every time his eyes locked Billy’s, he watched Billy’s face smooth into a silly grin.

Sam stood at the west window, looking out at the heavy rain. He paused. His thumbs were hooked in his belt, and his index finger repetitively drummed the thick leather. “I don’t know what’s up with this strange weather. It changes and then changes back in a matter of minutes.”

“What about what we just told you, dammit?” John’s voice boomed.

When Sam spun around, John was leaning forward in his chair as if he were about to get up.

Sam extended both hands in a stop gesture. “Keep your pants on, John. I’m thinking about it.”

John sat back hard into the chair. He looked at Billy and smiled. He inched forward a little and cleared his throat. “We need to do something right away. My son’s farm is in the best route.”

“John. Shut up. I didn’t say I was buying your story, I just said I was thinking about it.”

Sam did two laps around the office while John folded his map and returned it to his pocket. Every time Sam looked, Billy’s eyes were riveted to him.

“Your story’s interesting, and I have no idea what Mr. Thibideaux is doing in the Tri-counties. It makes some sense, but tying him to lightning, earthquakes and twisters is more far-fetched than anything you’ve brought in here yet. Maybe it’s time to make Mr. Thibideaux’s acquaintance and find out just what he’s here for. Would that give you some rest?”

“That’d be a good start, Sam,” John said. “But I doubt he’ll give anything up. He’s a clever son-of-a-bitch, as far as I can tell.” John leaned back in his chair and grinned.

“I’ll go talk to him under one condition. You have to stop your snooping. And, Billy. Stop staring at me like that. You’re giving me the creeps.”

Billy’s eyes went to the floor and his grin drained to a gape. His shoulders slumped so much they nearly touched.

“I’ll lay low, Sam.” John’s voice filled the office. “But you need to find out what Thibideaux is up to right away. I have a feeling some major bad is coming soon.”

“I’ll get on it right away. If anything comes of it, I’ll get back to you. But don’t call me, let me call you.” He watched John nearly tip his chair over when he stood. Billy slinked behind him. “And sorry for growling, Billy. I’m just upset by all the accidents lately. Are you up for a ride along one of these nights?” Sam smiled an apology.

Billy’s head snapped around to show a wide smile, and he walked right into John’s back, who growled a complaint. Billy giggled. Once outside, he jogged to John’s car and looked back at Sam, smiling.