That Time with Sugar

by Tess Oliver

  We jogged to catch up to it. Sugar did the negotiating. People never said no to her. She poured on that sexy, southern drawl as she spoke through the open window on the passenger’s side. I hung back, and Julian stood even farther away looking like a scarecrow that had just crawled out of the field, once again with no human emotion and just a little bit scary. It was hard to know what he was thinking, but he didn’t seem all that thrilled about the prospect of showing up at his parents’ house.

  Sugar walked back to us. “He said he’s going as far as Fitz Road.” She looked at Julian to see if that was a good plan.

  It took him a second to respond. “That’s a mile from the turnoff to my parent’s house.”

  “Great.” Sugar walked to the bed of the truck and opened it. “We’re riding in back. He’s got two dogs in the backseat.”

  We climbed into the bed of the truck and leaned against the back of the cab. Sugar tapped the back window to let him know we were settled, and the truck lurched forward onto the road. The old truck managed to make a rather smooth strip of asphalt as bumpy as a maze of potholes. I held my bottle securely. Julian held tightly to his computer. And Sugar held snuggly to my arm. If I hadn’t been an ass, a drunk not ready to give up his whiskey, I would have been able to hold on to her too. But I was still denying myself that one drug I wanted more than anything.

  The staccato sound of the motor and the rocking side to side motion of the bed made me relax some. The long night and shitty morning were catching up to me. I closed my eyes, leaned my head back and ignored the fact that my skull kept tapping the window. I was fucking tired, physically, mentally and everything in between. My parents were sitting in their multi-million dollar Tudor style mansion trying to understand how they’d gone so wrong, how they’d brought a madman, a killer into the world. It had to be especially hard for them, knowing that they weren’t just everyday, ordinary people. They were the Jamesons, the fucking Jamesons, a wealthy family with one black sheep who needed some serious shearing.

  Sugar squeezed my arm. Too tired to open my eyes, I ignored her at first thinking that she had been tousled to the side and was holding me tighter to keep from bouncing out. “Tommy,” she said quietly. “Look.”

  I opened my eyes and lifted the crummy glasses up. A bright yellow car with black stripes was coming up behind us. It was him. “Scoot down, Julian,” I barked as I grabbed Sugar. I pushed her against the side of the bed and covered her with my body to make us smaller and less noticeable. Julian squeezed against the other side of the bed. I could only imagine what the driver thought about our bizarre behavior. Sugar’s body trembled beneath mine.

  “It’s all right. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, baby.” I kissed her forehead. She pressed her body tightly against mine. I held my breath at the feel of her stretched out against me. Even knowing that the true Green Willow killer, a killer who had created a web of lies that could save him as long as we were no longer alive, had caught up to us, my cock grew rock hard.

  The hyped up motor of the Camaro bore down on us. He was tailing the truck closely. The truck driver pulled to the right.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  Sugar snuggled harder against me. “How did he find us?”

  “He must have looked up all our addresses.” I worried the truck driver was stopping for him or pulling over to see just what the hell we were doing in the back of his truck. The Camaro’s motor roared as it sped past us. The truck waddled back toward the center line. We sat back up.

  Sugar smiled shyly at me. She knew the effect those few seconds with her pressed against me had had on me. No fucking surprise though. She knew that every fiber of my being reacted to her presence no matter where we were or what we were doing. She was like a fucking elixir for me.

  The driver’s suspicious gaze was now glued to his rearview mirror, and it seemed he was more than ready to get rid of his cargo. At Fitz Road, the truck peeled over to the side of the highway. We climbed out. Sugar yelled ‘thank you’ as the truck rumbled out onto the road.

  The sun was straight overhead. The air was thick with a moisture that smelled heavily of cows and newly planted fields. There was not a mountain or hill in sight. If it hadn’t already been proved false, standing in the middle of the plains could make anyone believe that the world actually was flat. Growing up in topography like this, where you could see forever, might just have given Julian his obsession with mountain climbing. Peaks and inclines didn’t exist in his immediate world.

  The three of us, side by side, trudged along Fitz Road. It had been recently paved and sunlight reflected off the shiny black tar, making the trek that much harder.

  Sugar looked down at her feet and smiled. “You know it’s hot out when you can feel the heat through your shoes. There’s not a shade tree in sight.”

  Blue sky stretched on, like the flat land, forever. “No clouds either. We’re really exposed out here on this road and not just to the sun. Keep an ear open for cars.” I looked over at Julian. He’d pulled the bill of his cap lower to shade his eyes and pale skin. “Jules, you never answered the question. Does your dad have guns?”

  He yanked the front of the cap even lower as if he could block out the question with it. He finally answered. His tone seemed to have changed abruptly along with his mood. This time he sounded cold and pissed. “How else would he protect his valuables? That’s why he has them. I asked him once why he had so many, and he told me it was to protect his expensive possessions. Never mentioned protecting his family.”

  Apparently, the drugs they’d been giving Julian were helping to mask his true feelings about his dad.

  “Jules, it seems you and I have more in common than I realized. We can only assume that Frank was headed out to your house to fortify his lies by letting your parents know that I’d kidnapped you. Of course, I’m sure he was also hoping to come across us first since we are the only thing between him and getting away with murder. Be ready to dash into that field if we hear his car.”

  A curt nod was all the response I got. It was hot and we were all sweating, but Julian had large drops rolling down the side of his face. It looked more like the sweat from drug withdrawal than from heat. I knew he’d been heavily medicated, but it was shocking to see how fast he was losing it by being off his schedule for a day. Thankfully, he’d be home soon.

  In the distance, a majestic white farmhouse complete with the typical, painting worthy red barn and white fences came into view. It was the only piece of land for miles that was landscaped with mature trees and rolling green lawns.

  “Is that your house, Julian?” Sugar asked. “It’s beautiful.”

  “That’s home.” There wasn’t even an ounce of homesickness his tone. A good stretch of the road leading up to the farm was bordered on both sides by billowy green trees that resembled California oaks in size and shape. They coaxed us forward with their generous offer of shade. They also blocked the view of the front of the house until we were halfway along the shaded path. The yellow car was parked below the wide steps leading up to the two massive front doors.

  “There he is. These trees are going to come in handy.” I took hold of Sugar’s hand. “We’ll hide here until we see Frank leave.”

  “What if Julian’s parents are in danger?” Sugar asked.

  “Not sure if Frank would be so stupid. He’s already convinced the police and reporters that he was a hero that night. I think he’s just in there fortifying his alibi and building up a case against me.”

  We reached the second to last tree and ducked behind the wide trunk. Its drooping branches and heavy foliage were the perfect camouflage, while still allowing us to see what was happening at the house. Even after Sugar mentioned the possible danger for Julian’s parents, he didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned.

  Voices floated down the long brick-paved driveway but the words were hard to decipher. An endless breeze ruffled the leaves overhead, producing a clamor that was similar to a giant bag of potato chips bein
g crumpled. Everything appeared calm and peaceful, a brilliant summer day on the ranch. And that’s when it struck me. It was awfully damn quiet for a house where people had just learned that their only son had been kidnapped and was now missing. Wasn’t completely sure what I’d expected, but it seemed as if there should’ve been more activity, neighbors bringing tuna casseroles or distraught relatives showing up in their luxury sedans.

  A lull in the breeze softened the noise coming from the trees. One voice came to me clear enough that it sent a cold fist into the pit of my stomach. It was Frank’s voice. He was speaking calmly, but I still couldn’t understand the conversation. A second voice joined Frank’s.

  Julian’s mouth pulled into a grim line.

  “Is he talking to your dad?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I hadn’t noticed Sugar scoot to the next the tree. She leaned out just far enough to get a better look. She motioned for us to follow. Julian and I crouched down and moved behind her. The conversation was still too muddled to understand, but we had a clear view. Frank stood in front of his bumblebee car, looking extremely at ease as if he was talking to an old friend. Julian’s dad, on the other hand, looked fraught with worry. At least he was concerned. Julian’s comments on the road to the house had made me wonder if he would be upset. Julian’s mother was nowhere in sight.

  “Jules, your mom is probably inside having a meltdown,” I said. “As soon as Frank leaves, you need to go to her.”

  Sugar glanced back over her shoulder. There was a mix of confusion and fear in her face. “Tommy, look.”

  We ducked down lower to stay out of sight behind the thickest part of the trunk. Julian’s dad handed Frank a thick envelope. Frank wore a grin as he fingered what looked to be a wad of cash shoved inside.

  Julian was stiff next to me. “Does your dad know Frank?” None of this was making sense, and the implications were not good . . . at all.

  Julian clutched his computer, his security blanket, to him and started pacing behind the trees, making plenty of noise with his feet as they crunched the fallen leaves. “This explains it,” he repeated to himself.

  “Jules,” I whispered. “Cool it. We don’t want to be seen.” My warning meant nothing to him.

  Sugar reached for his arm, but he pulled it away. “Jules, what does this explain?” she asked.

  I looked back toward the house hoping that we hadn’t been noticed. Frank was climbing into his car. Again, Julian’s dad scanned the property as if he worried someone was watching him. There was definitely something sketchy going on.

  Julian shook his head and paced in between two imaginary boundaries he’d created for himself. “I told him. I warned him about Frank, and he ignored me.”

  Sugar looked at me with a pleading ‘do something’ look, but I had no idea how to handle someone like Julian, especially in this mood. It was as if Sugar and I were suddenly invisible.

  The rumbling Chevy motor fired up. The tires ground against the paved driveway as Frank pulled out. Sugar snuck over to take another peek at the house. “Julian’s dad went inside.”

  Julian stomped through the leaf litter four steps and then turned back around for another four more paces. The car rolled past the first tree and slowed. Sugar crouched down.

  I dropped down too. “Julian, freeze, damnit.”

  He listened. I had no idea how my words had gotten through to him. It was like some light had switched on, and Sugar and I’d popped back into his world. The three of us stayed still as stone statues waiting to hear the car roll past. My fists were curled and ready to pummel Frank into meatloaf if he came after us. But the car continued down the long drive and out onto the road.

  Sugar released a long sigh. “Shit, that was close.”

  We stood there looking at each other, looking road weary and tired and confused. Julian stared down at the ground, almost as if he wanted to avoid looking at either of us, but a big fucking pink elephant had joined us in the trees outside of his parents’ estate.

  “Julian, do you think your dad had something to do with all this?” I blurted the question before I could take it back. His face smeared white as if the blood had drained from his head. I wished that the words had stuck on my tongue instead of rolling out so freely.

  “How the fuck should I know, Tommy? I’m a genius, but I sure as fuck can’t read minds.”

  He spun around. With rigid shoulders and his computer tucked beneath his arm, he stomped away from his house. It seemed, we weren’t going to find the help we needed from the Fitzpatricks. We were in the center of a giant ball of shit, and it kept rolling and getting bigger and we kept sinking further into the center.

  Sugar came up next to me. We followed Julian, not completely sure where we were heading. “I think we’re seeing a new chemical free version of Julian.”

  “I’ll say.” I looked over at her. “I kind of like the new version.”

  She laughed. “It’s different.” Her smiled faded. “It seems that all of our families have let us completely down.”

  “Yeah.”

  She took hold of my hand. It wasn’t the first time she’d taken hold of it. Every time it happened it felt as if she’d reached inside and taken hold of my heart. “What are we going to do, Tommy?”

  “Not sure.” I hated giving such a stupid answer, but I really had no fucking clue what to do next. My family had assumed the worst about me. Julian’s family appeared to be somehow involved with the murder. And Sugar’s mom, her only family, had cast her off for good. We were alone. Three misfits who’d already had their share of trouble dealing with life and now we were facing it together. I squeezed Sugar’s hand in mine to let her know, no matter what happened, I was going to take care of her.

  Chapter 16

  By late afternoon, the sun had still not given us a break, but the miles of fields and crops and farmsteads had morphed into civilization, a small neighborhood with yards that were only a few thousand square feet instead of acres, and where you could wave to your neighbor as you walked to the mailbox or barbecued burgers on a warm summer night. The houses weren’t big, but for the most part, they were neatly kept. They looked comfortable and lived in, like homes where parents and kids sat down for dinner every night to discuss their days.

  We walked along the sidewalk, with no particular destination in mind. We hadn’t brought up the scene at Julian’s house again. He was in no shape to talk about it. Even though we’d been treading through air that was thick with gluey moisture, Julian had his one free arm crossed around his chest as if he was cold. His body trembled occasionally. I’d offered, more than once, to carry the laptop for him, but he wouldn’t part with it. I still held just as tightly to my bag of whiskey.

  Sugar had used my sweatshirt as a head scarf to keep the sun from beating down on her, but now it was tied around her hips. She sighed. “My feet are so damn tired. My blisters have blisters. And I’m so thirsty, my tongue is numb.” She looked back at me with those pleading blue eyes that could talk me into anything. “Let’s find a place to stop.”

  “We need some food too.” The focal point of the entire town seemed to be a large store called Handimart. “That store looks like it has a little bit of everything. Let’s go in and get some supplies. We’re limited on funds though, so take it easy.”

  Sugar headed toward the store without any further discussion. Julian followed after almost as if he was just a kite on a string being dragged along behind her. I’d counted on getting him home long before any serious effects from lack of meds had gripped him. I wasn’t completely sure how long he’d be able to hold up.

  The cool air inside the store felt like stepping into a refreshing shower. I kept my sunglasses on, just in case someone inside had seen my murderous face plastered on their television set. Both cashiers, a young guy who looked as if he’d never been past the border of town, and an older lady with slightly blue hair and a small hump between her shoulders, looked up as we walked in. “Welcome,” the woman called to us
as we headed toward the grocery section. It was one of those crazy ass stores where you could find a pair of pruning shears for your roses in one aisle and medicine to help you take a crap in the next.

  We all headed off in different directions, obviously with different goals in mind. I found a shelf of premade sandwiches in the refrigerator section and, even with the wilted lettuce and soggy looking bread, I could have eaten every single one of them. I grabbed out the two that looked the least disgusting. The other customers watched us, not with suspicion but curiosity. Which made sense. It didn’t seem like a town that would have many strangers pass through. We looked as if we’d been traveling across country on foot, living off the land and our wits. Something told me, not many of them had heard or read or cared about the murders across the state line.

  I checked on Julian. He was in the snack aisle, but rather than choosing a treat, he seemed to be spending his time there counting the tiles on the floor. I left him, deciding it was a harmless enough activity, and the other customers didn’t seem to notice. I walked along a few aisles, garnering some slightly nervous glances from several women trying to decide which soap to buy.

  Sugar was in the school supply aisle. I reached her just as she yanked the price tag off a Disney princess backpack. She flung it over her shoulder as if she’d walked in with it.

  I glanced around. “Hey, sticky fingers malone, trying to earn your prison stripes so we can spend time in the graybar motel together?”

  She shooed me away. “Leave. You’ll attract attention.”

  “Me?” I asked.

  She huffed at me. “Who will attract more suspicion, the six-foot-two with a shoulder span to match, long haired hunk in cheap black sunglasses with a bagged bottle of whiskey under his arm, or an innocent girl with a sunburned nose, a southern twang and a sweet smile.”