by Gen Griffin
“Oh.” Trish frowned, her eyebrows furrowing. “Are you going to go home or are you staying in Possum Creek?”
Nanette sighed quietly. “I don't know. I decided to leave that up to you. I don't mind staying if you feel like you need my emotional support. You've been through a rough couple of months between Curtis and your grandfather.”
“Mom, I'm really fine.” Trish tried to put a reassuring smile on her face.
“No. You're not. But I don't really know what to do about it,” Nanette said quietly. “Part of me wants to drag you home to Brooksville, tuck you into the pink and white bedroom you've had since you were a child and read you bedtime stories until we know Curtis is safely in jail. Another part of me knows that you won't appreciate being treated like a child. If you want me to stay here in Possum Creek with you, I will. I'll stay as long as you ask me to.”
“You hate this town,” Trish pointed out.
“I love you more than I hate this town,” Nanette replied. “Though I do wish you'd come home.”
“Curtis knows where your house is,” Trish said. “He'd just follow me At least I know that all the cops are looking for him here. Everyone in town is on the lookout for him. If I can't go to the grocery store without every person on the block knowing what color shoes I have on, then Curtis shouldn't be able to sneak around town very long before he's caught.”
“I suppose the small town gossip circle might be good for something after all,” Nanette said dryly. “Possum Creek doesn't have a neighborhood watch. It has a neighborhood watch, comment, share and critique.”
“Welcome to the south,” Trish said.
Nanette laughed. “You probably don't mind the gossip as much as I did. You have a much more grounded personality than I do. When I was a teenager, I'd sew a dress together out of grocery bags and paint it myself to express the colors in my soul. I wouldn't be out the door five minutes when our phone would ring and the whole neighborhood would be talking about how crazy Nanette was skipping down the street looking like a homeless person and did my mother know I'd left the house wearing the recycling again?”
Trish laughed.
Nanette sighed. “Laugh all you want to, Trisha. It was stifling. I couldn't be creative without being criticized.”
“I don't wear the recycling,” Trish pointed out. “Nor have I ever had any desire to.”
“There's probably a reason you like this town and I hate it,” Nanette admitted. “You were always embarrassed by my creative expressions.”
“Only when you wore them to the school,” Trish said. “The dress you made out of aluminum foil and crushed soda cans was particularly bad.”
“It was certainly noisy,” Nanette neither agreed nor disagreed with her daughter. “But I thought it was fun. So did Nellie.”
Trish frowned at the mention of her younger step-sister. “Mom, I think you should go home to Brooksville and just drive back down to Possum Creek for the funeral. I'll be just as safe here in Possum Creek as I would be Brooksville. Probably safer. Sheriff Chasson is in a hurry to bring Curtis to justice. He said there hasn't been an actual murder in Possum Creek in more than 7 years.”
“Its a quiet town.”
“It is. And I like quiet.” Trish forced an even bigger, even faker smile. “Perry needs your help back at the store anyways. You've already been gone for two days.”
“Perry will be okay without me,” Nanette sounded doubtful. It was no secret that she didn't like to be away from Trish's step-father for more than about five minutes. “But you know I can't sleep without him.”
“Right, and going three days without sleeping would just be awful,” Trish confirmed. “So go home. Get some rest. I'll be fine here.”
Nanette nodded with obvious relief. “If you're sure.”
“I am sure,” Trish confirmed. “Just do me one favor. Please?”
“Anything for my baby girl. You need money?”
“No. David has plenty of money.” Trish bit her lip and took a deep breath, knowing full well that her mother wasn't going to like the request she was about to make. “I don't want Nellie at the funeral.”
Nanette stopped abruptly and her smile melted away, leaving behind deep frown lines that made her look 10 years older than she really was. “Trisha.”
“I don't want her coming to Possum Creek,” Trish said. “I've had a bad week, Mom. I can't deal with her right now.”
“Trish, she's your sister. You girls used to be the best of friends. I know you guys had a falling out during your wedding to Curtis, but isn't it time for you to forgive and forget?” Nanette reached for Trish's hand but she pulled away. “Nellie's not angry with you.”
“Why would she be?” Trish muttered under her breath. “I didn't sleep with her fiance.”
“Nellie slept with Curtis?” Nanette's mouth fell open in surprise. “No. She wouldn't have done that to you. She loves you.”
“She doesn't love me enough to keep her legs closed when it matters. She slipped away from the bachelorette party at the resort and I went looking for her because I was afraid she'd passed out drunk in a stairwell. I found her banging Curtis in the elevator.”
“Oh honey.” Nanette reached for Trish again. “I am so sorry. Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because they both begged me not to and it would have been a scandal. Everyone we knew was already at the hotel. The wedding was less than 12 hours away. I didn't want to have to explain that Nellie and Curtis were sleeping together to our entire extended family, especially not when so many of them had flown in from out of state to see me marry Curtis.”
“Trish, surely it was just a drunken mistake?”
“I don't care how drunk Nellie was. She knew who he was. She knew he was mine. She didn't care if she betrayed me.”
“I can't believe you didn't tell me.” Nanette stretched out her legs and then folded them underneath her as she scooted closer to her daughter.
“I was humiliated. I'm still pretty embarrassed, but living in Possum Creek has kind of gotten me over a lot of my social anxieties. After months of living with Grover and next door to Addy, I've become a much less private person. I've learned that real friends don't judge you because you made a mistake or someone hurt you.” Trish straightened her shoulders and tried to look as serious as possible. “I'm also learning to stand up for myself.”
“I can tell,” Nanette said. “But-.”
“But nothing. I don't want Nellie in Possum Creek. She betrayed me with Curtis and I'm not about to let her back into my life. I have friendships here and I'm not willing to share them with her. Besides, you and I both know that David is everything Nellie has ever wanted in a man.”
Nanette sighed unhappily and puckered her lips into a frown. “You mean because he's pretty much her fantasy boyfriend, made to order?”
“You noticed that too?”
“Its rather hard not to notice.” Nanette leaned back against the mattress. “He's tall and thin with dark hair, olive skin and easily 30 hours of tattooing between his arms and what I saw on his chest when he was changing shirts in the hospital room. David is exactly the type of guy Nellie goes for. I won't even try to deny it.”
“He is. The first time I saw him, all I could think was how mad Nellie would be if she knew I'd finally found her fantasy guy and had no plans of introducing her to him.”
“I admit, when I saw him, I thought of Nellie as well. He looks so much like all those sketches she's done over the years. If he drove a motorcycle instead of that horrible tow truck, I'd think he was one of her pictures come to life.”
“He has a motorcycle. It's a vintage Harley Davidson.”
“Oh lord.” Nanette fanned herself with her hand. “I don't know, Trish. He's her type but you can't avoid her forever just because you know she'll find him attractive.”
“She slept with Curtis. I don't think David would go for her, but I don't want to put him in the position where he has to choose. Nellie tends to come onto guys pretty hard. Especi
ally when they're taken.”
“Trish, I understand why you're concerned but I think she's learned her lesson about sleeping with married men. Nellie's grown up a lot in the last year. Believe it or not, she changed when you cut her out of your life.”
“I don't trust her.”
“She's your sister.”
“She lost the right to call me her sister a year ago,” Trish said. “Don't bring her with you, Mom. You said you would do anything I asked. All I'm asking is that you tell Nellie not to show up at the funeral.”
“You can't avoid her forever,” Nanette said. “You can't skip Christmas this year by claiming you're spending it with your husband's family. David doesn't have any.”
“We can spend the holidays with the Walkers,” Trish was surprised by the words as they came out of her mouth. “Or you can come down here and Nellie can spend Christmas with her latest fling's family.”
“Trisha.”
“Look Mom, I just can't do it. Not today. Not during the same week when Grover died. Not while Curtis is trying to kill me. I have enough problems on my hands without having to deal with Nellie chasing after David.”
“You don't know that she'll go after David.”
Trish raised one eyebrow at her mother and glared at her. “She will. She went after Curtis and he's completely not her type.”
“She was drunk.”
“They sell alcohol in Possum Creek. She could get drunk here too if she really wanted to.”
“Can't you try to forgive her?” Nanette asked. “I can talk to her before she comes. I'll explain to her that David is completely and totally off limits. She wants to be your sister again. She's told me so. You girls used to be so close and it hurts me horribly to see you fight. Sisters need each other.”
“I need a sister I can trust.”
“You can trust Nellie.
“No, I can't.” Trish looked pleadingly at her mother. “Please Mom. I'm not asking for that much. Just keep Nellie away from me until after Curtis is in jail and Grover is in the ground. I'll try my best to make peace by Christmas, if that's what you really want.”
“Thanksgiving.”
“What?”
“I want you to be on speaking terms with your sister by Thanksgiving. Granny Cruz isn't in good health and she's already told me that she's afraid this upcoming holiday season will be her last. She wants to see her girls at her table this Thanksgiving.”
“Granny Cruz has been on her deathbed for 10 years. She says she wants all of us there every year.”
“She does,” Nanette said. “And she is 87 years old. In her defense, her time could be coming sooner rather than later.”
Trish sighed. “Thanksgiving is five months away. I'll make an effort.”
“Promise me?”
Trish sighed as she nodded her agreement. “Now I officially have a reason to dread the upcoming holidays.”
“One condition, Trish.” Nanette averted her eyes instead of meeting Trish's.
“What?”
“I won't ask your sister to come the funeral. If she asks to come on her own, I'm not going to tell her that she isn't welcome. She is your sister. Grover was just as much her grandfather as he was yours.”
“Nellie is my step-sister. She never even met Grover,” Trish pointed out.
“Granny and Grampy Cruz have always treated you as their own, even though you're technically their step-granddaughter. I'm not going to deny your sister the same relationship with my own father. If she wants to come pay her respects, she is allowed to do so.”
Trish gritted her teeth together. “Fine, Mom. If she wants to come, she can. Not that I can picture Nellie wanting to travel two hours out of her way for a funeral.”
“Be glad its not a shoe sale,” Nanette commented drolly. “She camped outside some designer shoe store for two days last month just so she could buy a pair of $400 heels.”
Trish rolled her eyes. “Tell her there's a shoe sale on the opposite site of the state on the same morning as Grover's funeral. We both know that if the choice is between family and shoes, Nellie will pick shoes.”
Nanette opened her mouth to argue and then closed it again, looking helpless. “Do you want me to stay with you tonight or should I go ahead and go home? I still have enough daylight left to make it most of the way to Brooksville before dark.”
“Go home, Mom.” Trish laid back on her mattress. “I'll be fine here. I promise.”
“Just so long as you're sure,” Nanette said.
Trish reassured her mother that she would be fine three more times before Nanette finally got into her SUV and drove away with a promise she'd be back on the morning of the funeral. Five minutes after her mother had left, Trish was back in the house with the doors locked tightly. Ten minutes after that, she was sound asleep in her bed.
Chapter 8
“We need to get rid of Addison's truck,” Kerry told Curtis.
“No one is going to go looking for that truck in your garage.” Curtis waved Kerry's concern away. “Leave it sitting where it is.”
“Sheriff Chasson is going to tear this town to pieces searching for Addison's truck,” Kerry said. “We need to get rid of it. Preferably somewhere far away from here. It'll get a lot of the heat off of us if the truck is found a long way from where you're hiding.”
Curtis rubbed his goatee as he considered Kerry's suggestion. “Well, I can tell you now that we won't get too far with that truck. Its a gas hog and it's running on fumes.”
“The truck is out of gas?” Kerry couldn't believe what he was hearing.
“My original plan was to haul ass out of this town and come back for Trish after the heat had died down. Unfortunately, Officer Fuck Buddy apparently likes to see how far he can drive with the gas light on.”
“Sounds like Addison.” Kerry nearly laughed.
“You got a gas can around here?”
“A what?” Kerry asked.
“A gas can. You know, a big red jug that you can fill up with gas at the store. Kind of thing you use for your lawnmower.”
“Oh. No. The yard service mows the lawn.” Kerry shook his head. “I don't own a gas can. Do you want me to go buy one?”
“No. It might draw attention if you've never used one before.” Curtis shrugged his massive shoulders. “Is there a decent sized body of water around here anywhere?”
“We're in a swamp. There are bodies of water everywhere.”
“Is there one nearby that we can sink the truck in?” Curtis asked.
Kerry thought about the question for a minute and then nodded. “There's a lake a couple of miles down the road. We could drive the truck off the boat landing and into the water.”
“You don't think anyone will see us?”
“In this weather?” Kerry looked doubtful. “No way. Everywhere is flooded. No one is going to try to go fishing when all the roads are flooding.”
“When do you want to ditch the truck?”
Kerry cast a glance out the window. The meager bit of rainy day sunlight was fading to dusk outside. “No time like the present.”
“You know, I'm starting to like you.” Curtis grinned at Kerry and thumped him hard on the back with the palm of one meaty hand. “You and I are going to make a great team.”
“More like great cellmates,” Kerry muttered under his breath.
“What did you say?” Curtis scowled at Kerry.
“I said we need to get on our way.” Kerry faked a big smile and then headed for the garage.
Chapter 9
“How long is it going to take you to track the truck down?” David paced nervously on the worn carpeting as Mason sat behind his desk and clicked buttons on his computer keyboard.
“Just give me a minute to figure out which device is inside Addison's truck,” Mason replied. “I'll have a location for you as soon as I have the right identification number.”
“Well, hurry.”
“You have no patience. Funny how I'd forgotten that during the la
st few years.” Mason continued typing on the keyboard.
David kept pacing back and forth across the room. It felt like Mason was intentionally taking an eternity, but every time David glanced back at the clock he saw that only another few seconds had passed.
David's cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored it. He'd been ignoring calls ever since he'd left the hospital. He probably had three dozen voicemail messages by now. He didn't know because he wasn't checking them. Some of the calls had come from numbers he didn't recognize, but most of them were familiar. Momma. Cal. Gracie. Trish. Momma again. Cal again. Trish again.
He felt like shit for blowing Trish off, but he didn't want to talk to her until he had answers to give her. He had promised her that she would be safe from Curtis. He'd been wrong. He hadn't taken Curtis seriously and Grover had paid for David's cockiness with life.
David wouldn't blame Trish at all if she never wanted to speak to him again. He wouldn't blame her if she said she didn't trust him. He wouldn't blame her if she decided to throw that big ass diamond ring at his head.
“Got it.” Mason's voice cut into David's misery.
David spun around on his heel and rushed over to Mason's desk. “You've got a location on Addy's truck?”
“I told you that I'd be able to track it,” Mason leaned back in his chair slightly. “Have a little faith, David. I know you think I'm a paper pusher and a computer geek, but us computer geeks have our uses.”
“I'll never call you a paper pusher or a geek again.” David leaned over Mason's shoulder and looked at the familiar topography that had popped up on the computer screen. “Which blob is the truck?”
“The little green one that's blinking at you.” Mason tapped the screen.
David frowned at it. “Its moving.”
“Its driving down Ingram Road, if you want to get technical. Looks like he's heading towards Hollow Point Landing.”
“Shit.” David stood up straight. “I've got to go after it. Is there any way you can make the tracking software pop up on my phone?”
“You mean like an app?”
“Yeah.”
“No.” Mason shook his head. “This is county resource loss tracking software. It's not user friendly.”
