by Dixie Cash
chapter fourteen
Debbie Sue didn’t like the look in Sam’s eye. The last thing they needed, in her opinion, was a man hovering and judging and trying to fix things. “Don’t worry,” she said, taking Sam by the arm and steering him in the direction of the door. “She’ll be fine. Ed and I’ll make sure. It’s our fault she drank too much.”
A sharp look came from Edwina. “Hey, Kemo Sabe, don’t blame me. You’re the one manning the Bloody Mary pump.”
Debbie Sue sent Edwina a withering look. “Thank you, Lone Ranger.”
An ominous scowl came from Sam. “Bloody Mary? What did you put in it?”
“Oh, just whatever we could find.” Though she gave him a flippant retort, Debbie Sue was aware of how little Sam knew of her and Edwina. She felt a need to defend herself. “Nothing, Sam. Nothing but vodka and Bloody Mary stuff. Look, you don’t have to worry. We’ll drive her back to her hotel. And we won’t leave her until she’s sitting upright and talking sense.” Even as she said it, Debbie Sue glanced over her shoulder at Avery, who was sprawled in a rag-doll pose in the salon chair, snoring like a bear. “Well, sitting upright at least.”
A few beats passed. Debbie Sue could almost see gears grinding behind Sam Something’s eyes. He did have the nicest blue eyes. She was partial to chocolate brown eyes, like Buddy’s, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate sky blue.
“Well…if you say so,” he said skeptically. “But tell you what. I’ll call you later and check on her.”
Why, he didn’t trust them. The nerve. Debbie Sue withheld a gasp. “Oh, absolutely. By all means.” She plucked a business card from the small plastic holder on the payout desk. “Here. Take our business card. It’s got the shop’s number on it. Mine and Ed’s cell phone numbers, too.”
Sam looked down at the card, then again at Avery. “Well…okay, but you take my card too.” He reached back, came up with his wallet and plucked out a business card. “I’ll call you later,” he said again. “But don’t hesitate to call me if you need me. Or if anything happens.”
Debbie Sue figured that between her and Edwina, they had dealt with more drunks than a bouncer at a rodeo dance. With Edwina’s family in particular, drunk-juggling was practically a family tradition passed down through generations. Still, Debbie Sue gave Sam’s card a polite perusal. “I can’t think of a reason in the world we’d need to call you, Sam, but if we get into something we can’t get out of, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”
After she had urged him out the door, she slammed it and locked it, then let her shoulders sag. “Fuck, Ed. I didn’t think he would ever leave. Does he think we would’ve just dropped her off on a corner somewhere?”
“I think it’s sweet,” Edwina said on a righteous sniff. “He’s sincerely concerned.”
Sam’s protective, trying-to-do-the-right-thing attitude made Debbie Sue think of Buddy. If he were in Sam’s shoes, and she, Debbie Sue, were passed out drunk, Buddy would have behaved the same way. Or worse. “He reminds me so much of Buddy, it just makes me miss that long tall cowboy all the more.”
Edwina gave Avery a long look, shaking her head. “Bless her heart. The last thing a woman would want is for the man she’s interested in to see her like this.”
“Interested in? Did I miss something? She called him a chickenshit. Or I think that’s what she tried to say. It was clear to me that he isn’t high on her list of people she might want to impress.”
Edwina gasped. “Hell’s bells, Debbie Sue. You must have forgotten just how much I know about you. But I haven’t forgotten what it was like to be around you and Buddy while y’all were divorced. You two were worse than wet cats. You sniped and snarled at each other all the time.”
“For good reason, you might add to that,” Debbie Sue said, “like that black-haired bitch he dated. The one with split ends and bangs that looked like a big-toothed comb.”
“Kathy Bozo had nothing to do with it. The good reason was that both of you were pissed because the other wouldn’t blink first and admit you couldn’t live without each other. And if I’m wrong about that, Miss Priss, I’ll kiss your ass on the courthouse steps.”
Debbie Sue huffed. The “courthouse” was a double-wide trailer located on city property a few feet from the sheriff’s office. “That’ll be the day. The courthouse doesn’t have any steps. Hell, Ed, we barely have a courthouse.”
Edwina grinned. “That’s okay. You don’t have much of an ass, either.”
“That’s it, Ed. I’m gonna put a red pen in my purse, for the day I win an argument with you. And when that happens, I’m gonna put a big ol’ circle on the calendar so we can all remember it.”
“You better make that a crayon. The ink’ll dry clean up in that pen before you get to use it.” Edwina picked up the nearest can of hair spray and pumped several blasts of lacquer on her mile-high hair.
Debbie Sue goaned. “Ed, what’s with the hair spray? We’re leaving for Odessa.”
“So? I can’t go to the city with my hair out of place, can I?” Edwina set down the can with a clunk. Sighing deeply, she looked again at Avery. “Okay, how are we gonna do this?”
“We start with my horse. Since Buddy won’t be home ’til late, maybe you could ask Vic to take Rocket Man home and unsaddle him?”
“Yeah, he’ll do that.” She went to the phone and called home. “Hi, sugar-buns. Debbie Sue and I are headed to Odessa…. Everything’s fine, sweetie pie. The lady reporter just had too much to drink, so we’re taking her back to her hotel. Can you come to the shop and pick up Rocket Man and take him home?…Uh-huh, that’s right, dumplin’. Just unsaddle him and turn him loose in the corral…. Uh-huh…uh-huh…Hmmm. I can’t wait to get home…. I know, sugar cakes…. Uh-huh…I will, sweetikins…. Love ya lots, angel.”
Debbie Sue recognized the I’m-doing-something-I-know-you-won’t-like-me-doing conversation. Edwina hung up and came back to where Debbie Sue stood. “That was disgusting,” Debbie Sue told her. “I think it put me into sugar overload. I can’t imagine what it must have done to Vic. What is it you can’t wait to get home for?”
Edwina gave her a reptilian grin. “I’ll never tell.”
“Since when? You tell everything you know.”
“Don’t distract me. Everything’s all set. Vic’s gonna come and get Rocket Man. Are you okay to drive? How many Bloody Marys did you have?”
“Hell, I didn’t even finish one. After I saw Avery guzzling, I knew how this whole thing was gonna end. How about you?”
“I didn’t have any. I saw what was gonna happen before you did. For a while, I wondered if we should just get that funnel out of the storeroom. Okay, let’s do it. You drive Avery’s car and I’ll follow you in mine.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Debbie Sue moved to the salon chair and hooked an arm around Avery’s back. “You take the left side, I’ve got the right.”
Avery got to her feet unsteadily, but was able to assist in the stagger from the salon to the Aero. Her step was unsteady and she screwed up a good Vince Gill song as she attempted to serenade them, but at least she wasn’t a belligerent drunk.
Stuffing her into the passenger side of the compact sedan was akin to shooting a game of pool with a string of cooked spaghetti. She was all long arms and legs and the four appendages refused to move in unison. When Debbie Sue succeeded at last in locking her into the bucket seat with the seat-belt harness, she ran around the front of the car and scooted behind the steering wheel.
Checking the mirrors as she backed out of the shop’s parking lot, she said, “Okay, Avery. I’m taking you home, city girl. You’re gonna have to sleep this one off.”
Avery opened her eyes. “Oh, yeah. Home. I won you to meet my mudder, bud donut agst her my mettle name. I hate hit.”
“Don’t you worry,” Debbie Sue said as she angled the air vents to blow directly on her inebriated passenger. “I won’t do whatever it was you asked me not to.”
During the drive to Odessa, Avery
roused occasionally. Cool, crisp air directly hitting someone’s face tended to have that effect, even someone who was drunk on her keister. They managed a few feeble comments to each other between Avery’s lapses. Feeling sorry for the visitor from out of town was easy. She would have a hellacious hangover tomorrow and would, most likely, never look at tomato juice in quite the same way again.
Edwina stayed close enough behind so that she was able to pull into the hotel parking lot right beside the Aero. She slid out and sauntered over. “She still out?”
“Not completely. I had cold air blowing on her driving up here.”
“Ah, the ol’ cold-air-in-the-face trick. Did she mention Sam?”
“No, but she swore me to secrecy on something else.”
“What’s that?”
“Apparently her mother gave her a middle name she doesn’t want anyone to know.”
“That’s it? That’s the big secret? How bad could it be?”
“Smelly Feet,” Debbie Sue answered flatly.
“Smelly feet?”
“That’s what she said. Avery Smelly Feet Deaton.”
Edwina looked through the Aero’s windshield at the snoozing Avery. “It’s just a crying shame what some people will do to a baby. Bless her heart.”
“Yep, a crying shame,” Debbie Sue agreed as they both stood there watching Avery sleep. “Well, let’s get this show on the road. Hold on to this.” Debbie Sue handed Edwina Avery’s key card. She opened the car door and unbuckled Avery’s seatbelt. “Avery, we’re here. Ready to go to your room?”
Debbie Sue and Edwina supported Avery into the hotel lobby. They found it filled with people who turned and gawked as they passed. Edwina stopped dead in her tracks and looked around the room. “What are y’all looking at?” she asked loudly. “Haven’t you ever seen somebody overcome with grief? You should be ashamed of yourselves.”
The gawkers immediately looked down or away or turned their backs.
Debbie squinted around Avery’s back at Edwina. “What?”
“Death,” Edwina whispered. “It makes people uncomfortable.”
One of Edwina’s qualities Debbie Sue appreciated was her ability to quickly come up with an impromptu lie to fit any occasion. “Riiiight,” Debbie Sue said. “Look, grim reaper, you keep Avery here while I ask the desk for the room number.” Leaving them, she strode to the receptionist’s desk and dinged the bell.
She returned to find Edwina alone, feverishly looking behind plants and under sofa cushions. “Ed, what have you lost? Where’s Avery?”
“Avery. I’m looking for Avery.”
A shot of panic whizzed through Debbie Sue as she looked around the room, but saw no sign of the tall blonde. “And you think she’s hiding in the plants or under a cushion? Where is she, no kidding?”
“I left her alone for just a minute and—”
“What? Ed, you were supposed to keep an eye on her.”
“Snicker,” Edwina said, dropping to her hands and knees and peering underneath the sofa.
“Dammit, Ed, you might think this situation deserves a snicker, but I don’t think it’s the least bit funny.”
“No, Debbie Sue. I went to the vending machine to buy a Snicker. I’m starving. We haven’t had anything to eat except armadillo eggs all day. I wasn’t gone two minutes.”
“Oh, fuck.” Debbie Sue made another circular scan of the lobby. “Then she couldn’t have gone that far. I’ll—”
“Excuse me, ma’am.” A boy Debbie Sue guessed to be about ten years old tugged at her arm. “Are you looking for the tall lady you came in with?”
“Yes, hon, we are,” Edwina said. “Have you seen her?”
“Yes, ma’am. She went inside the elevator.”
Debbie Sue exhaled a great breath. “Oh, thank God.”
“Thank you, hon,” Edwina told the boy, patting his shoulder. “You tell your mama a lady said you’re a nice boy.”
“Where’s the elevator?” Debbie Sue asked.
Edwina pointed to a sign with an arrow that indicated the elevator was around the corner. “This way.”
They rounded the corner, but were stopped dead in their tracks by a handwritten sign taped to the elevator door.
CAUTION! ELEVATOR OUT OF ORDER.
DO NOT USE.
Panic a dozen times greater than the previous blast exploded within Debbie Sue. “Oh, my God!”
“Oh, shit,” Edwina mumbled.
Debbie Sue punched the call button to no avail. She punched it repeatedly, hammered on it twice.
A voice came from behind them and they both turned. A girl with a name tag that said BRITTANY had an expression on her face Debbie Sue could describe only as one of terror.
“Did someone get on the elevator?” The girl named Brittany’s voice came across a little breathy.
“Yeah, I’m afraid so,” Debbie Sue answered.
Brittany yanked a cell phone from her belt and speed-dialed a number.
In the silence of their surroundings, Debbie Sue could hear the voice of the phone answerer from where she stood. “Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”
“Mom, it’s me, Brittany. We got another one stuck in the elevator.”
chapter fifteen
Avery awoke from what felt like a drug-induced sleep. She vaguely remembered tonsil removal from when she was fourteen—that disoriented haze when she came out of the anesthetic. What she experienced now was similar. The pain following her tonsillectomy had been, obviously, in her throat. The current pain wasn’t only in her head—it was her head. Even her eyelashes ached. There should be tubes running to and from her body, there should be medication hanging on an IV pole standing to her side and there should definitely be a morphine drip button taped to her hand for easy access.
Where the hell was she? And why was it so dark? She lay motionless, struggling to recall her most recent activities and allowing her eyes to grow accustomed to the dim light. She needed to pee badly, but her mind willed her body to stay put until it could determine her location.
Using both hands, she felt her body for clues and silently thanked God she was clothed and that the apparel wasn’t a hospital gown. Good news.
But if she wasn’t in a hospital already, why did she feel as if she should be?
She slowly turned her head to the right and saw the face of a clock on the bedside table. Numbers illuminated in neon green showed 6:30. But was it morning or evening? Either way, at this time of year, it would be dark.
Looking beyond the clock, she saw a single chair on which a suitcase—her suitcase—perched. A small round table stood nearby and just behind that, she saw an entire wall covered by ugly floral drapes. She was in a hotel room. Pieces of the puzzle began inching into place.
Oh, hell. She was on assignment in Salt Lick. And this was her hotel room in Odessa.
And just like that, events leading up to her current situation began to jell in her memory.
Sam Something was in that memory. He was leaning across her, smelling heavenly and talking about plans for the evening. She closed her eyes and silently prayed, Please, dear God. Please let him be only in my thoughts and not in this room.
She threw out her left arm, felt the other side of the bed, found it empty. She dared cut her eyes to her left hand and saw the other side of the bed, unrumpled and unused. Then she let her gaze rove to the area leading to a ribbon of light escaping from the bottom of a closed door. The bathroom? Had she left the light on?…Or was someone in that bathroom? What had been concern turned to dread. She lay still, listening for noise—water running in the sink, singing in the shower, something, anything. But she heard nothing but her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.
Don’t be silly, she told herself. There’s no one in the bathroom. Still, she thought of calling out, just to confirm that fact, even though the sound of her voice might make her head explode.
On the other hand, she could lie where she was until the maid came to clean the room, but who knew how lo
ng that would be?
The urge to pee had become an emergency. If someone really was in that bathroom, he would just have to deal with it, as would she.
Using both hands she clasped her temples between her palms and slowly rose to a sitting position. At least she now knew her head wasn’t going to roll off her shoulders and fall on the floor.
She wobbled to her feet. Her temples pounded, she felt dizzy. Touching the mattress with her fingertips for balance, she tottered to the bathroom door with caution. She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat felt scratchy and dry. She swallowed and tried again. “Anyone there? Hello? Are you decent?”
She tapped on the door with her knuckle, then turned the knob and cracked the door, blinking against the bright light. She was alone. Thank God. She expelled a great breath.
One eye closed, the other in a squint, she caught her reflection in the mirror and her sigh of relief changed to a whimper. Her appearance was now one of the many reasons she was glad to find herself alone in the room. Her carefully coiffed bun hung on the left side of her head and her perfectly applied makeup had shifted downward, as if it had tried to escape her face. Dear God.
Finished in the bathroom, she clung to the wall with one hand as she groped her way back to the bed. She picked up the phone receiver and pushed 0.
A West Texas twang that was far too cheery for Avery’s ears greeted her. “Front desk. This is Brittany. How may I help you?”
The visual of the chubby Brittany came to her. “Could you please tell me what time it is?”
“Oh, is that you, Miz Deaton?” The girl’s words came in a rush. “Gosh, am I glad to hear from you. I’ve been so worried about you. Are you all right? Can I bring you anything? Bet you’d like some ice water, huh? Or how about a Mountain Dew? My boyfriend says a Dew’ll do you every time. Isn’t that funny? I love it. A Dew’ll do you every time.” She laughed. “I laugh just thinking about it.” She laughed again, the sound coming through the receiver like a clatter of multiple aluminum pans and making Avery’s ears ache.
