He let his gaze settle on her stomach. “Then her belly, paying particular attention to her belly button.” He decided to skip the more intimate parts since he didn’t know Kim all that well. “The dip between her breasts, a great place for a dab of whipped cream, by the way. A woman’s shoulders, surprisingly enough, can be very erotic with the right attention. Then the place where your neck and shoulders meet, slowly, very slowly moving up to your neck, which by now is usually damp and tastes just the way you smell—your unique fragrance.” He realized he’d slipped into saying you and reverted to a more distant form since he was actually looking at Kim’s body as he spoke. “By the time a man gets to a woman’s ears, she can hardly stand it.”
Kim shivered and then rubbed her neck. “I think that was good advice,” she said in a high-pitched voice. “I hear you’re like a guru around here.”
He finished his first drink. Damn, he’d actually gotten rather, er, interested, by his own words, or more particularly, the images that went with them. “That’s what they tell me.”
She shifted her weight from one leg to another as though hoping he’d invite her to sit, which would not be a good idea. “The Sage.”
“Yep. Need some advice?”
She only uttered a nervous laugh. “Your first drink is on the house, too. For letting Smitty hang around.”
He lifted it to her in salute and watched her walk away. Her ass had a nice shape to it and a nice, demure sway; natural, not deliberate.
Unfortunately, someone stood in the way, and he couldn’t watch her anymore. He looked up to see Billy Bob Horter glaring at him. Billy Bob was a goon of a man, taller than Zell and probably twice as heavy. His buddy Clem was his polar opposite, short and skinnier than a cattail reed. Dumber than one, too.
“Why’d you let Smitty stay on? We were all waiting for a scene, her begging you to let him stay, you telling her what for. Did you lose your balls last time you went out in the swamp?”
Clem added, “Maybe an alligator got ’em.” He chortled at his words.
“I got my reasons for what I do and no one to answer to but myself.” And his father, of course. What were the chances that this would slip by Winn? Maybe he’d be in a drunk the whole time Kim was in town.
Even though the two men continued to stare him down, Zell glazed his eyes and thought about the busy night he was going to have tomorrow. He’d be trudging through the swampland collecting alligator eggs, sinking into knee-deep muck warmed by the sun all day. The mosquitoes would be buzzing all over, and all manner of critters would be slithering and creeping around him. It was one of his favorite things in the world to do.
“I think he’s getting some of what Kim’s got between her legs, that’s what I think,” Billy Bob said, and Clem nodded vigorously in agreement.
Zell shook his head. He really didn’t like fighting. Probably because he wasn’t very good at it, and that was probably because he didn’t have his heart in it. Bashing a guy had no appeal to him. Particularly when it would be one against two and probably him getting the bashing.
All’s fair in love and war.
For some reason, his gaze went to Kim, who was watching them and not looking too happy about the tension she saw.
Zell took a leisurely drink. “Look, I’m not going to fight with you guys. We’d both get hurt and it wouldn’t change anything. Let it go.” He kept his body language casual and relaxed, though his muscles were ready for action. He might not like to fight, but he sure wouldn’t sit there and take it either.
“Is there a problem here?” Kim asked from behind the two men, making them swivel around.
Not good. Didn’t she remember what jerks these guys were? They’d come back to town a few years back after getting out of prison. Because Buck Waddell gave them a job despite their prison records, they had a fierce loyalty to him. Zell was sure Buck had encouraged them to be their nasty best to Kim.
Zell stood. The two men looked at him and then at her. Instead of answering, they went back to their table caddy-corner from Zell’s. Their superior smirks weren’t a good sign. Someone hailed Kim, and she walked away.
Angus walked out of the restroom and gave Zell a conspiratorial wink and a wave as he headed out to give his wife the business. He was still wearing his white, knee-high crabbing boots with his blue jeans. Somehow Zell had become a sage to the local population. He wasn’t sure how it had happened, guessed he’d given someone some good advice and they told a friend and so on. He didn’t mind helping people out, but sitting here talking to no one was what he liked best. Sitting, and thinking, and people-watching, enjoying a drink and the familiar smells of fried wings and smoke.
He wasn’t enjoying himself now, though. The two men were talking loudly enough for Zell to hear.
Billy Bob said, “I say we teach her a lesson about where she belongs—and where she doesn’t.”
Clem gave his trademark guffaw. “That’d be fun.”
Billy Bob’s slow smile spread across his beefy face. “Yeah, it would. If ya know what I mean.”
Zell just listened. That’s what he did. Some people might think he was slow, but he never rushed into things. He liked to give matters a lot of thought, play them out to their eventual end. He was pretty sure they were trying to goad him on. They knew what they were talking about wouldn’t sit well with him. What he needed to determine was how serious they were. Would they jeopardize their jobs and freedom to reap justice for something they weren’t even involved in? Or would they figure that no one would punish her attackers?
After a while, their talk grew quieter. Zell only picked up a word here and there: parking lot…closing…scream. Not good. He pretended to tie his boot and caught them in his peripheral vision. They weren’t even paying attention to him. Billy Bob was watching Kim now, his mouth in a perpetual smile. A smug kind of smile.
With a sigh, he pushed to his feet and stuck his head between the two men from behind. “Whatever it is you’re thinking, put it right out of your pea brains. Don’t make me put a hurtin’ on you.”
They both got to their feet so fast, Zell had to step back. One chair fell to the floor with a clatter.
Billy Bob leaned closer to Zell. “You telling me what to do, pretty boy?”
“This isn’t about me, it’s about you doing something stupid and wrong. It isn’t right hurting a woman. For any reason.”
“You ought to be the one wanting to hurt her,” Billy Bob said, puffing his bulky shoulders up even more. “If you were man enough.”
Zell’s fist clenched, but he wasn’t going to start something in the bar. Some of the other patrons were tuning in to the discussion. He was pretty sure he’d have an ally or two, but he really hated dragging someone else into his trouble.
Billy Bob reached into his box of high school maneuvers and pushed Zell back. Zell took a step forward and crushed his foot beneath his heavy boots. “Outside,” he said through gritted teeth. Several men nearby got to their feet and advanced toward the two idiots.
“All right, everybody out. Out!” Kim’s voice pierced the tension as she put her hand on the two men’s backs and turned them toward the front door. “All of you, out of my bar. I’m not going to have you trashing the place.”
She was a big enough woman to carry it off, though even little Elva knew how to get rambunctious drunks out of her bar, too. Zell was surprised, though, to be included in the ousted group. Some of his friends also left. They walked out into the warm, muggy night air, the two factions eyeing each other with murderous looks. Finally, the two men got into their beat-up truck and peeled out of the lot, sending a spray of shell and gravel onto nearby vehicles.
“You gonna let her talk to you like that?” one of the men asked Zell, indicating the woman in the bar.
“Not going to go back in and say, ‘But he started it, Miss Lyons, I swear!’” That got a laugh out of them with his whiny boy imitation. “I’m done for the night. Thanks for your help, guys.”
“No problem,”
they both said and headed to their vehicles. Zell started his truck and sat there for a moment, shaking his head in disbelief. His dad had been kicked out of here plenty of times, but this was a first for him. He supposed she had to nip problems in the bud and include anyone who might be a troublemaker, but it still didn’t sit well.
He pulled out of the parking lot and headed home.
The remaining folks in the bar stared at Kim as she cleared the glasses from the now-empty tables. She didn’t need any troublemakers in her bar, even if one was named Zell Macgregor. Oh, yeah, Zell was definitely trouble. She’d much rather be annoyed with him than melting over his words about the important places on a woman’s body. Especially when his gaze seemed to follow his words on her body.
Well, the patrons had gotten two shows tonight. One with her humbling herself and asking for Zell’s help, and the other with her kicking him out.
Would he rescind his okay now? Was he that vindictive? Who knew, but it wouldn’t surprise her if that kind of thing ran in the family. After a while, the place had cleared out except for Smitty, who was sitting there at a table not earning his piddly salary. He had the look of a coach who’d just watched his principle player goof up an important play. Because she didn’t feel exactly right about ousting Zell, she sat down at the table and asked, “What?”
“Not a good enemy to make, young’un.”
“Zell wouldn’t hurt me, would he?”
He laughed at that as he pulled out his bag of tobacco and rolling papers. “No, not Zell.”
“Those two jerks?”
“Billy Bob and Clem. Don’t you remember them? They probably went to school with you, though I think they’re a couple of years younger. Billy Bob Horter and Clem Johnson.”
“Oh, yeah, I do vaguely remember them. They used to shoot frogs just to watch them explode. Billy Bob bit some girl on the arm and got expelled.”
“It won’t surprise you to learn they went to prison for a few years on assault charges. They both beat up Billy Bob’s ex-girlfriend because she had the nerve to break up with him. Buck gave them a job at the club; gave them a break. A break no one else was willing to give them, so they don’t like anyone who crosses Buck.”
Her muscles tensed. “They can’t dislike me because of what happened—” At Smitty’s nod, she said, “That’s crazy. They don’t even know me anymore.”
“Doesn’t matter. They’d love a reason to act up again, to justify it in their mind, ya see.”
The feeling in the pit of her stomach twisted into a painful knot. “I’m glad I kicked them out, then.”
He shook his head as he rolled his cigarette. “I understand you having to do that part of it. I’m warning you to be careful, is all.”
“What part don’t you understand?”
“Kicking Zell out. Those two were planning something, and Zell was warning them not to do anything to you.”
She dropped her head onto the table and groaned. “Please tell me that’s what you think he was doing.”
“Heard some of the conversation. Now Zell, he doesn’t like to fight, never did. Never provokes a fight. But he’ll do whatever he has to do to protect a woman. Back in high school, some boys were doing that pushy kind of flirting with Charlotte, and he could tell she wasn’t comfortable with it. There were three of them and one of him, but it didn’t matter. He jumped right in and took two of them down.”
“What happened to the third one?”
“Charlotte flattened his nuts.”
She rubbed her eyes until the skin felt hot beneath her fingers. She’d jumped the gun and probably made a handful of enemies tonight. Jumping to conclusions was only one of her bad habits. “Guess I owe Zell an apology.” For someone who hated eating crow, she was sure doing a lot of it lately.
“’S’pose so.”
When she looked up at him, he was smiling ever so slightly. “Why do I get the impression you’re enjoying my discomfort?”
He stuck the cigarette in his mouth. “Hasn’t been anything quite so interesting as your arrival since Bo Miller got stoned, whipped out his pecker, and pissed on Kinsey’s shoe.”
Billy Bob sat in the truck behind the darkened Quick Mart and narrowed his eyes at Southern Comfort. “Who does she think she is, anyway? Kicking us out like we were making trouble. We were just sitting there minding our own business when that son of a bitch comes up to us.”
Clem chimed in, “Yeah, minding our own business.”
“Somebody needs to put him in his place, too, thinks he’s God’s gift to Cypress because of his last name.”
“Maybe we ought to mess up his pretty face. Break a nose, poke an eye out. He wouldn’t be so pretty then.” Clem giggled at that.
Billy Bob wondered if he’d ever get used to Clem’s girlish giggles. But he did like the idea. “We could have some fun with Kim, teach her who’s in charge around here. Wreck her pretty face, too. Bet she’d pack up and hightail it out of here without saying a thing. That’d sure make our boss happy. Who would believe her anyway?”
“Who would care? Nobody as far as I can tell. Buck’d be proud of us, he would.”
Billy Bob flicked his cigarette out the window as Kim and Smitty walked out of the bar. She’d parked off to the side in that little foreign job. There was a clump of bushes that led from the river’s shoreline past her car. Enough room to hide, he bet. The nearest buildings would be closed at that hour. “And if Zell Macgregor gets in the way, we’ll take him out, too.” He waited until both Kim and Smitty had pulled onto the road. Nobody made a fool out of him like that, especially a woman like her. The woman he’d gone to prison over learned that real fast. So would Kim.
Or maybe they wouldn’t have to wait. He put the truck into gear and pulled out onto the road behind Kim, gunning the engine to catch up to her.
Kim squinted as headlights suddenly glared in her rearview mirror. What the heck? The only two cars on the road, and it figured she’d have some jerk behind her. “So, go around me.”
The truck stayed right on her tail. She slowed, hoping he’d go around her. The increase in her pulse told her this wasn’t about being in a hurry. That was soon confirmed when she felt the truck bump her, sending her car swerving furiously.
“Damn!” She gripped the wheel and fought to gain control. Gravel kicked up behind her as she tore up the shoulder of the road. The truck had backed off, the driver probably wanting to stay clear if she started rolling. As soon as she straightened the car out, he was on her again.
She gunned the gas and stressed out all four of her cylinders. She’d once kidded that the car didn’t have horsepower, it had hamster power. It wasn’t so funny at the moment. The engine whined pitifully. The headlights shot forward, closing in. She flinched, ready for another jolt. Just then her car’s engine kicked in and gave her boost enough to avoid the bump.
“Are you crazy?” she screamed. “You could get us both killed!”
She didn’t want to take her hand off the wheel long enough to adjust the dimmer on the rearview mirror. She could hardly see the road ahead with the glare in her eyes, and she couldn’t see anything of the truck other than the headlights.
She didn’t have time to make the turn into her driveway, but leading the idiot to her house didn’t seem like the best idea anyway. Heron’s Glen passed by in a blur on the left as she continued down the highway, the truck close behind.
The sheriff’s substation was located near the corner of US41 and Highway 20. Yes, that’s where she’d head. If she could make it there before—
The truck bumped her again, sending her car’s rear into a fishtail. She let out a scream of both frustration and fear as she tried to control the car again. Her fingers ached where they gripped the steering wheel. As soon as she had control, she gunned the engine again. As the truck gained on her, she swerved into the oncoming lane. When the truck followed her, she jerked back to the right lane.
The lights at the intersection shot relief through her. She cut through t
he parking lot of a gas station and headed straight for the small building with two police cars parked out front. She had barely put the car in Park when she pushed the door open and jumped out. Her legs were wobbly, but she still ran toward the door. Only then did she look back.
The truck was gone.
CHAPTER 7
Saturday morning tradition at the Heron’s Glen was a big family breakfast out on the veranda. Zell tried to make as many breakfasts as his schedule permitted. He walked in the front door and headed toward the lanai. Heron’s Glen was an eclectic mix of each generation’s tastes. Lydia Macgregor brought the china cabinet with its antique porcelain and silver service with her from Scotland. The family crest adorned one wall painted in the Macgregor plaid. William and Mary had left the legacy of the hand-carved railing on the curved staircase that matched the crown molding and other accents.
Granddad Zelwig and Clarice added genteel, southern furniture and wallpaper that Zell’s mother, Andrea, had spent weeks removing years later. She had added her own touches, some of which still remained. After her death, Kitty and Charlotte had put their own fingerprint on the house’s interior. Kitty had had the couches in the living room covered in bright yellow stripes. Charlotte had purchased an elegant chaise lounge at an estate sale and spent hours reading there. Zell figured she wanted to look good stretched out on the red velvet wearing her matching pumps and robe.
By rights, Calvin and Nancy should have gotten the house since Calvin was firstborn. Lucky for Winn, born last and late, Calvin had no desire to continue the gator business. Winn had shown some interest in the then-fledgling farm. By the time Granddad Zell died from emphysema, Calvin had started his airboat business and Sue had started her prison sentence. Winn got the farm and house; the surrounding land had been divided between the rest of the family.
Gisella, their part-time cook and housecleaner had outdone herself, laying out a spread of a veggie frittata, the little potatoes she called papitas, and an array of toasts and muffins.
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