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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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BOOK: The Virtuous Woman
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“You holding a woman named Grace Winslow?”

“That’s right. You her lawyer?”

“No, this is her brother. I’m just a friend.”

Interest touched the sergeant’s eyes. “I guess you want to see her.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, Sergeant.”

“My name’s Reed. She’s quite a handful. Called me every name you could think of, and I didn’t do anything but lock the door on her.”

“What’s she charged with besides soliciting?”

“That’s all of it. Looks like she’ll just have to pay a fine. Judge Hardy don’t favor tarts in our town.”

Kevin started to speak, but Francis drove an elbow into his side while he said, “Thanks, Sergeant Reed.”

“Come on. You can talk with her in the interrogation room.”

The two men followed the sergeant down a short hall and stepped inside a small bare room with a table and four chairs. When Reed left, Kevin said, “What do you think?”

“I don’t think it’s going to be too bad. It sounds like it’s mostly a matter of money. I hope you’ve got some.”

“I cleaned out my bank account. I didn’t know how long this would take.”

“We’ll probably need it.”

They waited until the door opened, and Reed said, “Right in there, honey. I’m not supposed to let you see anybody without written permission, but I guess since it’s your brother, it’s all right.” He shut the door, and Grace stood facing the two. She looked tired, and her face was pale.

Kevin went to her and said, “Are you all right, Grace?”

“Sure. How’d you find me? Oh, I know. The great detective there. You’re gettin’ to be quite an expert at findin’ me, ain’tcha, Francis?”

“You’re only charged with soliciting,” Francis said. “I think that’s how the police make a living around here.”

“I didn’t do no soliciting. I was hitchhiking and this guy picked me up. He tried to get fresh with me, and when I discouraged him, he pulled out a badge and said he was a deputy. He brought me in here and charged me with hustling.”

“It’s okay. We’ll get you out. You stay here and I’ll go see about the fine,” Kevin said.

He left and went to find Sergeant Reed. “How do I go about paying the fine?”

“It’s fifteen dollars. You can pay me cash, and I’ll give you a receipt.”

“That’s all there is to it?”

Reed grinned. “Yup. It’s cash only, you understand.”

“That’s all right. I’ve got cash,” Kevin said quickly. He pulled out his billfold and counted out three fives while Reed wrote out a receipt. “Can she go now?”

“Sure. I’ll get her things together.”

Kevin went back to the interrogation room. “We can go now. They’re getting your things, Grace.”

Sergeant Reed brought in a suitcase and a purse. “Check to be sure everything’s there, Grace.”

She looked through the purse and snapped it together. “It’s all here.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t linger,” Reed said.

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t stay in this stinkin’ town if you gave it to me.”

Reed grinned. “Been nice havin’ you for a visit, sweetheart.”

Grace whirled and left the building. When they got outside she said, “I ain’t going back there again.”

“Okay,” Key said agreeably.

“I mean it, Francis.”

“So do I.”

“That’s right,” Key said, grinning. “You’re bigger than I am, so I don’t intend to drag you back kicking and screaming.”

“I ain’t bigger than you are—but I ain’t goin’ back!”

“Come on. Let’s go get something to eat,” Kevin said. “I’ll bet you’re starved, aren’t you, sis?”

“Yeah. They serve slop in that place.”

They walked down the street, and Grace suddenly stopped as she spotted the Italian motorcycle strapped onto the bed of the truck. “You brought the bike with you!”

“Sure, you left it behind. It belongs to you. Papers are in your name.”

“I didn’t want to take anythin’ away. I wanted to make a clean break.”

“We’ll talk about that later.”

“Maybe we’d better get our food in the next town. We may not be too welcome here,” Francis said.

They all got in the truck and drove for twenty minutes before pulling into a truck stop.

“I always like truck-stop food,” Grace said. “You don’t pay for a lot of fancy surroundings. Just food.”

As they ate their meal Grace’s eyes were mostly on Kevin. “I’m glad you came, Kev. I was scared of what might happen. They were even talkin’ about sendin’ me to the state pen. The cop was the son of the mayor.”

“Did you hit him with a blackjack?” Francis inquired.

“No, just my fist, but it bloodied his nose. I wish I had thought of the blackjack.”

“You’d probably be in the federal pen if you had,” Francis suggested.

They ate quietly for some time, and finally Grace broke the silence. “I can’t go back, Kev. I’m sorry. I think a lot of you and of Mom and Dad, but it’s just not my place. So thanks for getting me out, but I’ll be on my way.”

Kevin had thought a great deal about what he would say if he found Grace, and now he told her, “You know, sis, you’ve been nagging me for quite a while now to find out what I really want.”

Instantly Grace grew still. “Yes,” she said, “but you always kept it from me.”

“I never told anybody because I never thought it would be possible. But I’m going to tell you now.” He hesitated while Grace leaned forward intently, her eyes fixed on her brother. He had become very important to her during her brief stay at the Winslow house, and she was curious about what was on his heart. “Come on, Kev, you can tell me. It can’t be that bad.”

“It’s not bad. It’s just so far out of reach. I want to be a pilot.”

“A pilot! You want to fly airplanes?”

“That’s right, sis. It’s all I’ve ever really wanted. Before my face got all messed up, it was the only dream I had in my mind, and it’s still there.”

“It shouldn’t be too hard to fulfill that dream. You could just get Dad to buy you a plane and take lessons.”

“No, it’s not that. I want to make a living at it. I don’t know.... I’d like to be a crop duster, maybe, or a mail pilot. Anything as long as I’m in the sky.”

Grace was pleasantly surprised. “I don’t think that’s crazy at all. Do you think you can do it?”

Kevin leaned forward, his eyes bright. “I
know
I can, sis. I’ve always been good with machinery, and I’m a great driver, and I’ve got good balance. And I’m smart enough too. All I need is a chance. Of course, I never thought I’d go out and show this face of mine, but if you’ll help me, I know I can do it.” He reached out and took her hand and held it for a moment. “Help me, sis. You’re the only one who can.”

Grace could not remember a time when she had ever been so touched. Her brother was a big, strong man, but he sounded like a child as he pled with her. She studied his eyes and saw the longing in them—not just to fly but to be a man, to do something in the world. “I don’t know how I can help you.”

“I don’t know either. Maybe it’s impossible.”

“No, it’s not impossible,” Grace said quickly. “We’ll do it somehow.”

Francis had listened to all this with keen interest. Somehow his life had gotten tied up with these two people, especially Grace, and he saw the gentleness that showed through despite her rough exterior. Now it was directed toward her brother, but he thought,
If she can be gentle with one man, she could probably be gentle with others.

The three left the diner, and when they were outside, Grace said, “Francis, you’ve got to help us do this.”

“Me? I can’t,” he protested. “I’m trying to write a novel.”

“You can write a novel anytime, but you owe me this.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Because Hack Keller would have killed you back when you first found me if I hadn’t been there to help you.”

“Do I have to thank you for that for the rest of my life?” Francis was somewhat touchy about this. He had always felt less than a man at having to be rescued by Grace. “I’ve got Miriam to take care of—anyway, what can I do?”

“You’re smart. You can do something.”

“I’ve got to write this novel. Can’t you understand that? I want to do that as bad as Kevin wants to be a flyer.”

“That’s right, sis,” Kevin said. “Don’t put this on him. He’s done plenty just finding you.”

“No, he’s gotta help.” Grace grabbed onto his lapels. “Do you know what day this is?”

“April the twenty-first.”

“That’s right. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“What should it mean?”

“It’s my birthday!”

Key suddenly remembered the date from the investigation. “Well—happy birthday.”

“All right, then. Are you going to help or not?”

“Not.”

Grace turned loose of Francis’s garment and grabbed Kevin’s arm. “All right. Let’s go, Kev.”

Francis stood dumbfounded as they walked off toward the truck. He hesitated, arguing with himself, then cried out, “Wait a minute!” He ran forward and caught up with them. They both turned to meet him, and Grace had expectation in her eyes. “All right. I’ll do it,” he said resignedly.

“Oh, Francis, you’re wonderful!” Grace threw her arms around him and hugged him so tightly he gasped.

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to crush me.”

“Now, what’ll we do first? It takes a lot of money, doesn’t it, Kev?”

“I have no idea.”

They both looked at Francis, and he realized how much they were both depending on him. “All right,” he grunted, “I’ll think of something.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A Place for Kevin

“It’s not much of a place, but it’ll do for a night,” Francis said. He looked around the room and put Grace’s suitcase down. “I’ve stayed in worse.”

“Me too,” Grace said. “The city jail in Eddington, for one.” The three of them had found a seedy-looking motel on the outskirts of town, and Kevin had paid for two rooms. Going over to the bed, Grace sat down on it and shrugged. “It’ll be fine. Why don’t you guys stow your suitcases, and let’s go out and get a bite to eat.”

“I’ve got to bring Miriam in first,” Key insisted. He went back to the truck and took out the cage, covered with a piece of bright green cloth. He took it into his room, and when he pulled the cover off, Miriam muttered, “My Francis!”

Grace stood at the door and laughed, her eyes sparkling. “You keep your females in a cage, huh, Francis?”

“Most females need to be kept under lock and key,” Francis snapped. He put his finger inside the cage and the parrot at once fastened on to it. “I’ll bring you back a piece of nice fresh apple, sweetheart.”

“Are you gonna keep your wife locked up—if you ever get one?” Grace teased.

Francis just said, “Let’s go find a place to eat,” and turned and went back out to the truck, followed by Grace and Kevin. They left the Shady Rest Motel and drove down the highway until they found a diner called Mom’s. As they stepped inside, Francis said, “This is a good place to eat.”

“How can you tell?” Grace raised an eyebrow skeptically. “They’ve got four calendars on the wall,” Francis said. “That’s how I judge eating establishments. If they only have one calendar—skip it. Two—edible but not much. Three—pretty good. Four—first class.”

“You just made that up.”

They sat down at a booth with a Formica top scarred with the initials of past customers. “Look at this,” Kevin said. “Do you think it’s an omen?” He pointed to a poem carved in the surface:

The horror.

Oh, the horror

Of the grilled cheese!

The only thing worse

Are the black-eyed peas.

“Do you suppose that has some kind of hidden meaning?” Francis said.

“No, I think it just means don’t eat the grilled cheese or the black-eyed peas,” Grace said with a laugh. “Not a real promising sign for your four-calendar establishment, Francis.”

A frazzled-looking waitress came up and handed them three food-speckled menus. Grace noticed that her fingernails were bitten off to the quick. She was an attractive young redhead, though a bit too heavy, and she had a ketchup stain on her shirt pocket. She eyed them curiously. “The special is ham and eggs with biscuits and gravy.”

“What kind of gravy?” Francis asked innocently.

“What do you mean, what kind?” The waitress looked puzzled. “Just regular gravy is all.” Kevin turned toward her, and she caught a glimpse of his scarred visage. “What happened to your face?” she blurted out.

“A bear bit me,” Kevin said without cracking a smile.

“You ought to stay away from bears, then.”

“I will from now on. Thanks for the advice. I guess I’ll have the special,” he said.

“I’ll have pancakes, a short stack,” Grace ordered. “You got any maple syrup?”

“Sure. You want sausage or bacon with it?”

“Both.”

“We don’t serve both.”

“Oh,” she said. “In that case let me have the sausage. Why don’t you serve both?”

“I don’t know. We just don’t. What’ll you have?” she said, looking at Francis.

“I’ll have the special and a cup of black coffee,” he said. “Lots of coffee. Strong and black and hot. That’s the way I like my coffee.”

The waitress grinned broadly and winked suggestively. “Is that the way you like your women too?”

Grace giggled, and when she saw that Francis was speechless, she said to the waitress, “You shocked him, honey. It’s his first day out. You shouldn’t make fun of him.”

“Oh, gee, I’m sorry!” She reached out and touched Key’s head. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelin’s.”

“I’ll live,” he said shortly, brushing her hand away.

When the waitress left, Grace said, “I think she’s fallen for you, Francis.”

“She’s just a silly girl.”

“She likes you, though.” She shook her head. “For a little runt you sure attract women. I wonder why that is.”

“Could we talk about something besides me?”

“All right,” she agreed. “We’ll talk about something else.”

When the waitress returned with their food, she lingered next to Francis, pushing her hip against his shoulder. “Anything else you want, honey?”

“No, this’ll be fine,” Francis said, quickly taking a bite of eggs and ham.

“Okay, suit yourself,” she said. “But if there’s anything I can do for you—anything at all—you just let me know, toots.”

BOOK: The Virtuous Woman
5.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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