Caught in the Crotchfire (A Trailer Park Princess Cozy Mystery Book 3)

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Caught in the Crotchfire (A Trailer Park Princess Cozy Mystery Book 3) Page 22

by Kim Hunt Harris


  I heard more voices, and looked around frantically. A green dumpster sat a few feet away. I slid toward it on my butt, desperate to get hidden. I crawled to the back of the dumpster and saw some space behind it, between the dumpster and the fence. I managed to crawl a little way in, then flipped back over to sit on my butt, wedged between the chain link fence and the dumpster.

  I held my breath as I heard the voices grow louder. Then I heard something nearer me. A snuffling sound.

  I jerked my head around to see a black, wet nose sniffing me through the fence.

  “Hey,” I whispered. “Hey, there, nice doggie.”

  I just knew it was about to set up a baying howl, then lights would come on, guns would be cocked, and once again I’d be running for my life, this time on a bum ankle.

  Instead, the dog set up an intense sniff session at my elbow. Apparently, whatever he smelled there held some interest for him, because he didn’t appear to be interested in moving on.

  I risked poking my finger through the fence and stroked his nose gently. The voices were getting louder, closer, and my heart hammered in my ears. It occurred to me that I could simply step out into the alley and explain that I hadn’t been trying to steal the car, but the memory of all the “crotchfire” from the other night was too fresh in my mind. Better to let them pass and then come out later when things had calmed down.

  As the voices got closer, I was able to make out some of the words.

  “Crazy,” “Idiot,” “More to lose than we do,” I thought, and, several times, “cajones.”

  It took me a moment to realize, given the last one, that they might not be talking about me.

  My next thought was, if a group of men were walking down a dark alley in this neighborhood and they weren’t talking about me, or looking for me, then they might be…

  I sat up straight, my heart hammering once again, and tried to scoot toward the end of the dumpster so I could see around.

  The sniffing at my elbow turned into a snuffle, and then into a soft whine.

  I scooted back into place. The last thing I needed was to let them know I was back here. If they were the bad guys, their history of non-violence could go out the door.

  They were right up on me now, and it took everything I had not to panic and flail around in an attempt to flee. I froze, straining to hear above the thundering of blood in my ears.

  “He’s gotta pitch in his share, regardless,” said one voice very clearly. “He’s not getting out of this without kicking in. One way or the other, they’re gonna be contributors.”

  “Major contributors,” said another voice.

  “Yeah, he oughta give a little more, even, after all the fuss.”

  “No, now, we’re gonna be fair. You know the ground rules.”

  They all laughed then, so I had to think ground rules to them meant something different than it meant to me.

  They moved quickly down the alley, and I realized I hadn’t even been paying enough attention to know how many there were. I felt like there were at least three distinct voices, but maybe more. And there could have been some there who just weren’t talking. It was hard to tell without seeing them. The alley was soft dirt, no pavement to bounce footsteps off of. I could hear the whisk of pant legs brushing together as they walked, and occasionally the jangle of keys or change in pants pockets. But they moved so quickly that the alley was soon quiet once again.

  I had to find Bobby and let him know what I’d heard. It could be a clue. It had to be the bandits, right? I mean, who else would have been running through the alley?

  I moved to crawl out from behind the dumpster. Actually, I tried to move. I was wedged in pretty tight, though. I dug my heels into the ground and tried to scooch myself forward. If I could just slide along the ground, I could get past the edge of the dumpster and then get onto my knees.

  Nothing. I felt the metal of the chain link fence biting into my hip and thigh.

  Were my jeans caught? Or was I seriously so fat that I’d gotten stuck back there?

  I rocked forward again, but rocked immediately back.

  With my left hand, I reached up and wrapped my fingers through the chain about a foot above my head. I braced my right palm against the dumpster and pushed, pulling with the left.

  I succeeded in making painful red marks against my fingers from the chain. My right hand lost traction and skidded across the metal of the dumpster with a soft shriek.

  The dog snuffled at my elbow again.

  “Stop!” I snapped at him, twisting at the waist to pull my elbow out of his reach. “Enough.”

  He stuck his nose through the fence and snorted.

  “I mean it. Quit. No means no.”

  He whined.

  “Respect my boundaries!” I almost shouted.

  He plopped down on his butt and howled.

  Immediately a light flashed on over the back porch, and light flooded the entire yard and half the alley. It was like a scene from a movie about a prison break.

  “What’s going on out here?” roared a not-at-all-friendly-sounding voice.

  Light blinded me, and I held my hands up to block it.

  Then I heard a gun cock.

  I threw my hands above my head. “Don’t shoot me don’t shoot me don’t shoot!”

  “What are you doing back here?” the man yelled. Then he stuck his head back in the house. “Lucy! Get out here! There’s some woman sitting at our back fence.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Gus, come here, boy.” The man patted his thigh as he crossed the yard toward me on giant tree trunk legs.

  Gus lumbered up and trotted slowly to meet the man, then back toward me. I kept my hands up.

  “Well,” the man said. I couldn’t decide if he had a grizzled-but-kindly expression, or if he was simply sizing me up to see if he wanted to keep me. “You’re in a bit of a pickle, huh?”

  “A bit,” I said with a false grin, my teeth clenched. “I was just walking down the alley and I heard — ”

  “Why were you walking down the alley? You live around here?”

  “She don’t live around here,” came a woman’s voice at his elbow. I was so blinded by the floodlights that I hadn’t even seen her come up. “I know everybody who lives around here, and she ain’t one of ‘em.”

  I nodded. “I don’t live around here, that’s right. I mean, I live in Lubbock, but across town. In Trailertopia.”

  “That’s good to know, but doesn’t tell us a thing about why you’re walking through our alley.”

  “The thing is, I was walking and I heard these guys behind me. It sounded like they were running. And I thought — you know, I thought it was them. The robbers. And I panicked. I hid behind the dumpster until they passed, but then when the moved on, I was stuck and couldn’t get out.”

  The man and woman looked at each other. They clearly did not believe me.

  “I swear,” I said, painfully aware of every lie I’d ever told and how I’d made just such passionate declarations every time the lie was not believed.

  “No, the thing is,” the man said flatly, “You keep not telling us what you were doing in the alley, and that not telling has me thinking that you have something to hide. Now, maybe you were running from those guys, and maybe you were running with those guys. Maybe you just couldn’t keep up, and they left you here to fend for yourself and this is the best you can come up with.”

  I shook my head hard. “No, believe me. If I wanted to make up something I could do a lot better than that.”

  “Why were you in the alley? We’ve been listening to the scanner and there was a report of an attempted auto theft at the community center. You have anything to do with that?”

  “Yes!” I said, not even caring that I looked like a car thief. I mean, they wouldn’t shoot me if I was just a failed car thief. They’d call the police. And I wanted the police just then.

  “I had something to do with that. I was the one who was trying to get into that car. I was
n’t trying to steal it, though, I was just— ”

  “Call the cops,” Giant Man said. Lucy hurried to obey.

  “I wonder if maybe you could help me get out of here.”

  He nodded. “You’re good right where you are.”

  “I won’t try to run, I swear. I just…” I wriggled as much as I was able. “This is getting really uncomfortable. And that light. Could you put that light down? It’s right in my eyes.” Between trying to come unstuck from the fence and trying to keep from being blinded, I had my hands full.

  “It won’t be long.”

  “I swear, if you could just pull that fence back a little bit, I’ll stay right here.”

  “Nope.”

  “I’ll stay right by this dumpster. I just need —”

  He turned and roared toward the house. “Tell ‘em she’s trying to flee!”

  “I’m not trying to flee!” I leaned over and shouted toward the house. “Tell them I’m not trying to flee!” I turned back to him. “Not trying to flee,” I said, sticking my lower lip out.

  The cops came and shined their spotlight in my face. If you had asked me thirty seconds before what one more intense light would do, I would have sworn “not a thing.” But it did. I had to put my head down in the crook of my elbow just to keep from crying.

  After a bunch of questions that nobody was satisfied with the answers to — including me — the two cops and the two Henrys put their heads together to figure out how to get me out.

  Mr. Henry and one cop pulled at the chain fence, and I scooted forward. An inch. And then I fell back.

  “I must be caught on something,” I said. I looked over my shoulder, but didn’t exactly have the best vantage point. “Can you just — ” I looked at the cop. “I mean, I have to be caught on one of the links, right?”

  To his credit, he looked a bit embarrassed to have to get down low and check out the area of my behind. He stuck his fingers through the fence and prodded around at my thigh to locate the source of the trouble.

  That was when Tony and Viv showed up.

  Tony rushed across the yard. “Salem! What — ” He took in the scene. “What happened?”

  “I’m okay,” I said, feeling equal parts guilty and idiotic. “I panicked when I set off the alarm and people started shouting. I thought I was going to get shot at like last time — ”

  “Last time?” the cop asked. “Last time you were breaking into a car?”

  “I mean when — you know, with the shooting over behind the law office. People were shouting, “Somebody’s trying to steal that car!” and I panicked and ran.”

  “Why didn’t you run into the building?” Viv asked.

  “Because I panicked!” I said, thinking that she could be a little more supportive and sympathetic. It was her weapon I’d been trying to conceal, after all. “I just ran. I hit my ankle on something and fell down.” My ankle felt better now, which seemed oddly unfair. I could use a nice bruise or swelling or something that would back up my story. “Then I heard some guys, and I thought it was the Bandits, so I dove back here and hid. But when they left I couldn’t get out. And the dog was sniffing my elbow and it was kind of weird and I made him stop, so he howled, and then the lights came on and this guy acted like I was a car thief and wouldn’t let me go.” Something suddenly occurred to me. “Hey! That’s imprisonment! Officer!” I jabbed a finger toward Big Mr. Henry. “Arrest him! He was holding me captive!”

  Big Mr. Henry laughed. “Good luck trying to make a case of that. You’re the one who came on my property.”

  “That’s right, it’s your property and you are responsible for what happens here. You are liable. And believe me, our lawyer will be hearing about this. And for the love of Pete, turn that light out!” Bless Viv’s heart. I think at least one of her rich late husbands made his fortune by suing other people.

  Whatever, it got Lucy to march up to the back door and shut off the brightest light. The cops holstered their flashlights.

  “Okay, well everybody just calm down,” the cop said. “Nobody’s suing anybody and we’re gonna get you out. But first I want to hear about the bandits. Did you see them?”

  “No, I was behind the dumpster and when I tried to lean out and get a look, that dog started whining and I was afraid they would hear him, so I stayed put. I heard what they said, though.”

  “My dog don’t whine,” Big Mr. Henry said.

  I jutted my chin. “Like a little baby.”

  “What did you hear?”

  I shook my head. “I’m afraid I can’t remember a single word until I get out of here.”

  Tony set about trying to get me loose. He found a spot of the fence where the sharp chain tops were bent over, covered it with his hand and vaulted over. He crawled in behind me, his hands fumbling with the fence and my jeans, trying to find the catch. His shoulders were even broader than my hips, though (difficult to believe, but comfortingly true) so he couldn’t get much traction.

  I craned my neck around. “Thanks,” I said. “And I’m sorry I’m such a walking freak show.”

  He laughed, but it didn’t seem to me like he was feeling the humor so much.

  “Can you see what’s going on back there?”

  “No. Can you feel it catch? Like, can you tell if it’s really caught on something?”

  “No, but the alternative is to think that my hips are actually so wide they’re wedged tight, and I just can’t make myself believe that.”

  He sat back on his haunches, turned halfway sideways between the fence and the dumpster. His knee pushed the fence away from us.

  I hooked my heels in the ground again and tried to scoot.

  Nothing.

  “Think we ought to call the city and see if they can get a dumpster truck out here to lift it out?”

  “Good grief!” I said. “No.” I pictured the dumpster rising and me with it, being squished against the fence like Play-Doh being rolled out.

  “We could cut the fence,” the other cop suggested.

  “The hell you will,” Big Mr. Henry said. The sweetheart.

  “Why does everyone miss the most obvious step,” Viv said.

  Everybody looked at her, including me.

  “Cut her jeans. That’s the easiest and least expensive way.”

  The dumpster truck looked suddenly like a very appealing option. I wrapped my arms around my middle. “Nope.”

  “Do you want to just stay back here forever?” Viv asked.

  “We can think of something else.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. Can’t you guys get together and just — just slide the dumpster out a little? I mean, four strong men like you?”

  They weren’t buying it.

  “But I don’t want to walk around in my underwear,” I said. But even I could see this was a sensible choice. “You know, if I just stayed here for a few days, I’ll bet I would be skinnier and then I could get out. Two days, three tops. Don’t even bring me any water. I’ll get all dehydrated and…” They were all looking at me like I was both sad and crazy.

  “Honey, you really don’t want to be seen in your underwear,” Viv said.

  I turned back to Tony. “I don’t want to do this,” I said.

  He cocked his head like he’d just remembered something. “Hang on,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  He vaulted back over the fence and trotted around to the front of the house. He was back within fifteen seconds, carrying some kind of black fabric.

  “Sweats,” he said. “Ma’am, do you have some scissors I could borrow?”

  Nobody told Tony no, of course. He was just that kind of guy.

  She came back in a few seconds and handed him the scissors. He passed them to me before he hopped back over the fence.

  The ground rustled as he crawled back toward me once again. I could feel his hands on the waistband of my jeans. “Okay, now, Salem. You’re going to want to be very still.”

  I laughed. “Don’t worry. I
won’t move a muscle.”

  He made one cut at the side of my waist, then looked back up. “Um, would you gentlemen mind turning around? And turning that last light off?”

  They did as they were asked, but stayed uncomfortably close.

  “You know, I don’t really see any reason for the Henrys to even still be here,” Viv said.

  “It’s my back yard,” Big Mr. Henry said. “I don’t see no need for me to go anywhere.”

  One of the cops stepped close and said a few things, quietly. Big Mr. Henry took a deep breath and looked a little put out, but he and Lucy went into the house.

  Viv, who apparently didn’t have a decent bone in her body, had to be reminded that there was no real reason for her to be there, either.

  “She’s my friend. She needs my support right now.”

  “I’m okay, Viv,” I said. “But thanks.”

  Viv lifted her chin. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll wait in Tony’s truck.” She stomped back to the front of the house.

  As the scissors snipped gently down the side of my jeans and Tony’s head was almost even with mine, I whispered. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” he whispered back.

  “I have to tell you something.”

  “Something else?”

  “It’s just that — okay, I needed to do laundry today.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re wearing dirty underwear,” he said, his tone mocking.

  “I needed to do laundry but the washing machine broke. I’m not wearing any underwear.”

  He sucked in a breath. “Salem!”

  “I know. Commando.”

  The cold metal of the scissors slide against my hip, against my thigh, pushing gently as the scissors worked again and again toward my knee.

  “Don’t tell me something like that now,” he said. “I could stab you in the leg.”

  “I just thought I should warn you, so you wouldn’t be completely shocked.”

  He cleared his throat. “Yes, well…”

  “Unless you were going to be a gentleman and not look. In that case I’ve revealed my secret shame for nothing.”

  “Oh, I was going to look,” he assured me.

 

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