Brand New Me

by Meg Benjamin

  Jess Toleffson pulled up a bar stool and sat down, pushing her wispy golden hair out of her eyes. “Unfortunately, we didn’t have much luck,” she said. “I took the Silver Spur lunch crowd, and Docia tried the Dew Drop, but nobody in there knew anything about Broadus. Except he’s a jerk, which we knew already.”

  Janie leaned against the bar experimentally, resting one foot on the brass rail. “From what I heard he’s pretty much a Puritan. Doesn’t drink or smoke or take up with wild women.” She grimaced. “Not that Deirdre would qualify. But he probably wouldn’t show up at the Dew Drop or the Silver Spur.”

  Tom drummed his fingers against the bar as he thought. “Restaurants, then. Particularly ones that don’t serve booze. Only probably not the Coffee Corral, since Al Brosius keeps that signed picture of Obama next to the cash register.”

  “He might have gone to Allie’s, but given Broadus’s views on Latinas, maybe not.” Docia rolled her eyes. “And my guess is he’s even less sympathetic to gays, which means he’d avoid Lee and Ken at Brenner’s.”

  “I talked to a few of the people at the franchise places on the highway, not that I can picture Broadus in McDonald’s either,” Janie said. “But none of them have seen him. I also checked some of the local places like Floyd’s and the barbeque out on Highway 16, but no luck.”

  Tom smacked his hand flat in frustration. “Jesus, where else is there? Where the hell would the man hang out?”

  Across the room, he saw Bobby Sue pause, staring at them. Her eyes widened. He wondered if she was upset by all the cussing.

  Docia sighed. “I’ll call Allie. Even if she doesn’t know anything about Broadus herself, she might be able to think of somebody who does. If she comes up with anyone, I’ll check them out and get back to you.”

  Tom nodded. “Okay. As soon as we’re finished here, I’ll hit the street myself and see if I can stir anything up.”

  “Right.” Jess pushed herself upright again. “We’ll check around at a few of the used furniture stores too. Maybe Broadus’s competitors know something about him.”

  He sighed. “Thanks. Good hunting.”

  “You too.”

  Tom glanced at Bobby Sue again, but she was back to serving her tables.

  By two, the room was empty. Leon moved across the floor, sweeping up and collecting dirty dishes. Bobby Sue walked across to the bar, leaning forward so that Tom could hear her soft voice. “Y’all lookin’ for that Milam Broadus fella?”

  Tom’s pulse accelerated slightly. He told himself to cool it. “Yeah. He’s not at his store, and we need to find him.”

  “You think he’s the one took Deirdre away last night?”

  Tom nodded again. “Looks like it.”

  Bobby Sue’s jaw squared and she turned back toward the room, looking for her son. “Leon? Get over here.”

  Leon stared at her for a moment, then leaned his push broom against the nearest table. “What’s up, Ma?”

  Bobby Sue suddenly looked like a woman who specialized in taking no prisoners. For the first time, Tom believed she wasn’t exactly a pushover for Leon and his schemes. “You know where that miserable son of a bitch Milam Broadus holes up out in the country, don’t you? You tell Tom where he is right now.”

  Leon gave Tom a hunted look, then dropped his gaze to the floor. “I don’t hang out with them no more.”

  “But you did.” Bobby Sue’s voice was relentless. “Once upon a time, you did. And it wasn’t that long ago, neither.”

  “But…”

  Tom grasped the edge of the bar to keep from grabbing him by the throat.

  Chico didn’t restrain himself. He took hold of the back of Leon’s shirt, hoisting him in the air until his toes were dangling. “Where the hell is Broadus, Leon? You tell us now, and I don’t punch you in the face.”

  Leon whimpered, and Chico shook him gently, like a dog shaking a puppy.

  “I didn’t have nothin’ to do with this, so help me,” Leon whined. “I wouldn’t hurt Deirdre. I ain’t talked to Broadus for a couple months.”

  “So just tell us where you used to meet him. No skin off your nose. And we can go find out if Deirdre’s there.” Tom nodded at Chico, who dropped Leon back on the floor.

  “Up in the hills,” he panted. “Back beyond Powell’s ranch. He’s got an old house up there. Used to belong to his family.”

  Tom leaned forward. “How do we get there, Leon? What road?”

  “I don’t know exactly. They’d blindfold us before we went up there—Broadus’s got this thing about keeping the place secret. Thinks the Feds’ll come after him.”

  “So how do you know it was beyond Powell’s place?” Chico rumbled, his face dark.

  “Wasn’t much of a blindfold, tell you the truth. I could see under it if I tipped my head. You go up on that road that runs by Powell’s pasture for a couple miles or so, then you turn off on a road to the house. Don’t know what it’s called or nothin’, but there’s a big bunch of prickly pear and an old pump right where you turn.”

  Tom threw down his bar towel and headed for the door, Chico at his heels.

  “Wait a minute,” Clem called, “I’m coming with you.”

  Tom turned, stepping to the side so Chico didn’t run into him. “No.”

  Clem narrowed her eyes, her chin rising mutinously. She balled up her apron and tossed in on a chair. “Yes.”

  “No, Clem. I need you to stay here and be the contact person. Also to make sure Dempsey doesn’t show up, or if he does to call the cops.”

  Clem grimaced, then shrugged. “Hell. Okay.”

  “Give us twenty minutes,” Tom said. “Then call Nando. Tell him where we’re going and that I hope he’ll head up there too.”

  Clem’s lips spread in a dry grin. “You think that’s going to keep him from throwing you in the slammer?”

  “Maybe. At this point, I don’t really give a shit.”

  Chico hit the door, and the two of them trotted for Tom’s truck.

  In the few hours Deirdre had spent at Broadus’s hideout, she’d learned two things. First, that Broadus was just as loopy as everyone thought he was. He’d dropped more than a few hints about what he’d do with the million dollars from her father, most involving the establishment of the Republic of Texas with Broadus himself at the head. He was so optimistic about the future of his own little nation-state that Deirdre almost felt sorry for him. Not that she wouldn’t have pushed him out the window anyway if she’d had half a chance.

  The second thing she’d learned was that Seifert was a complete loss as a minion. And that he was considerably more dangerous than Broadus.

  Broadus left the house around noon, claiming he was going to leave instructions for the delivery of the million dollars. Deirdre wasn’t sure where he was going to leave them or for whom since her father was nowhere near Konigsburg, but she didn’t argue.

  She’d checked the room out thoroughly by then and hadn’t found much that could help her get away from the house. She’d decided she needed to get downstairs somehow. Maybe there she’d find a few more opportunities for escape.

  Unlike Broadus, Seifert didn’t leave her alone in her room. He paced back and forth from the window to the door while Broadus walked out to his truck and drove away, glancing in her direction every few moments. Deirdre considered asking him to take her downstairs for a bathroom break, but he didn’t look like he’d be all that accommodating.

  He paced to the window one more time and turned, staring at her with narrowed eyes. “You,” he said. “Up.”

  “What?”

  “Stand up?”

  “Why?”

  It seemed like a reasonable question to Deirdre, but apparently not to Seifert. He stomped toward her, balling his hands in fists. “Because I said so, bitch. Now get up.”

  Deirdre considered reminding him of Broadus’s opinions on the treatment of ladies, but she had a feeling Seifert didn’t share them. And he was bigger and stronger than she was. She stood up, and let
him shove her through the door, then herd her down the stairs.

  They paused at the bottom as she got her first view of the rest of the house. Not that there was much to see—living room, dining room, kitchen, all of them without any visible charm.

  Seifert pushed her into the living room, toward a couch upholstered in faded plaid. The walls were papered in pale stripes of what might once have been flowers but now looked more like inkblots. A fireplace with built-in bookcases filled one wall.

  Broadus had loaded the shelves with more dusty antiques. Deirdre did a quick survey, hoping for some guns or at least a bayonet, but all she saw were ancient cloudy bottles, a few buttons and coins, and some round things that looked like rocks but probably weren’t.

  “Broadus may think it’s okay to let you run around loose, but if I was kidnapped and I had a chance to walk out, no word of honor would keep me from doing it.” Seifert nodded at an ancient rocker in the corner. “Sit down there.”

  Deirdre took a quick breath. “My father will pay you if you let me go. Whatever Broadus has promised you, my father will pay you more.”

  Seifert gave her an unpleasant grin. Apparently, dental hygiene was not one of his strong points any more than it was with Broadus. “Broadus is paying me a million. Only he don’t know it yet. Course he won’t be around to watch neither.”

  Terrific. Crazy as Broadus was, Deirdre had a feeling he was preferable to Seifert. “My father will give you more.”

  Seifert’s grin turned to a grimace. “No he won’t. All he’ll give me is a quick trip to Huntsville. Now sit down, Missy. I got stuff to do, and I don’t want you wandering around the house while I do it.”

  His gaze slid down her body, leaving a track of invisible slime, and Deirdre’s nerves went on high alert. Being tied up around Seifert suddenly seemed like a very dangerous proposition.

  She edged toward the fireplace. “Why can’t I just go back upstairs? You can lock the door again. I can’t get out.”

  Seifert’s face darkened. “You don’t hear so good. I told you to sit down.” He stepped toward her, reaching for her shoulder.

  Deirdre dodged away from him, moving sideways.

  Seifert growled and grabbed again, one hand grazing her shoulder. “C’mere bitch. I got some plans for you.”

  Deirdre jerked to the side, trying to pull away from him as his fingers fastened on the back of her neck, yanking her forward. And then Seifert jammed his mouth against hers, his teeth grinding against her lips.

  She fought the wave of nausea that hit her along with Seifert’s breath, although vomiting in his face had a certain appeal. His fingers dug into her buttocks, jamming her pelvis against his as he tried to stick his tongue in her mouth.

  Deirdre fumbled frantically along the fireplace shelves behind her, knocking over bottles and buttons before fastening onto one of the round rocks. It was surprisingly heavy. She brought it up swiftly and slammed it into the side of Seifert’s head.

  He staggered back staring at her with furious eyes. She struck him again on the temple, as hard as she could. The rock cracked open in her hand and she realized it was hollow. Hollow or not, however, it seemed to be solid enough to do the job. Seifert’s knees buckled beneath him, and he collapsed slowly to the floor.

  Deirdre closed her eyes for a moment, catching her breath. Her stomach was still roiling, but she ignored it as she tossed the remains of the rock to the floor beside Seifert. No time to be sick—time to get out of there.

  Behind her, the front door crashed open. She turned to see the elongated figure of Milam Broadus standing in the doorway like one of the aliens in Close Encounters. “Woman,” he roared, “what have you done?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Broadus pointed to the remains of the rock Deirdre had used on Seifert. “That,” he intoned, “was a cast iron cannon ball fired at the Battle of the Alamo. You just destroyed a priceless historic artifact.”

  “Wasn’t much of a cannon ball if it fell apart when it hit something,” Deirdre snapped, edging back toward the shelves again. “And it was better that than being raped by your buddy.”

  Broadus sucked in a breath. “That’s a lie. Seifert is a citizen of the Republic of Texas. He would never dishonor a lady. Of course—” his mouth contracted to a sneer, “—you’re obviously no lady.”

  “Obviously.” She glanced back at the shelves, keeping Seifert’s body between Broadus and herself. “What else have you got here, Mr. Broadus?” She slid her hand along another shelf. “Any other priceless historic artifacts?”

  Broadus’s face paled. “Get away from there!”

  Her fingers closed on a piece of china and she darted to the side when he took a step toward her. “Looks like a plate. No name on the back, but I guess not all antique plates have them, right? Blue willow ware, I’d say. Gee, is that a picture of the Alamo?”

  “Put that down,” he snarled.

  “Not right now. I promise I’ll put it down fifty yards from your house, provided you step aside and let me out the front door. Otherwise, I might have to throw it against that wall.”

  Broadus’s face transformed from pale to the color of eggplant in a matter of seconds. “You’re a fifth-generation Texan. How can you destroy your own heritage?”

  “I’m a fifth-generation Texan who wants to get the fuck out of this house. Now what’s it gonna be, Mr. Broadus, me or this plate?”

  Seifert moaned, and Broadus glanced at him. “Boone? Are you awake?”

  “Seifert won’t be waking up for a while yet,” Deirdre said, hoping devoutly that she was telling the truth. “No help there. Now get away from the door.”

  Broadus balanced on his tiptoes, clearly trying to decide whether the plate meant more to him than his potential million dollars. She tightened her grip on the plate’s edge, ready to let it fly if he took a step closer.

  Suddenly Broadus himself flew through the air in front of her. For one odd moment, she wondered if he was a lot more physically fit than she’d thought. Taking a leap like that was really something for a man his age.

  And then Tom was charging through the door after Broadus, planting one knee in the middle of his chest and clenching his hands around his throat. “Give me one good reason not to push your nose through to the other side of your head,” he growled.

  Chico stepped into the room behind him, staring down at the prone figure of Seifert. He turned back to Deirdre. “You do this?”

  She nodded, carefully replacing the plate on the shelf.

  Chico’s smile reminded her of a proud parent regarding his offspring’s latest accomplishment. “Good work.”

  Broadus had begun to squeak under Tom’s squeezing hands. His words were largely incoherent, but Deirdre thought she heard “stop”, “murder”, and “outrage” in no particular order. His face was back to eggplant again. She stepped forward and placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “Maybe you should loosen your grip.”

  “Not a chance,” Tom growled.

  Outside there was the sound of squealing brakes, followed by heavy footsteps on the porch. Chief Toleffson appeared in the doorway, with Nando close behind him.

  “Let him go, Ames.” The chief’s voice sounded deceptively calm. Deirdre watched a muscle dance in his jaw.

  Tom glanced up at him, then down at Broadus again. He stood slowly, only releasing the man’s throat at the last moment. Then he turned to Deirdre. “Are you all right?”

  Deirdre licked her lips. She wanted to be civilized, sophisticated, blasé. After all, it was only a small, unsuccessful kidnapping.

  Then Tom opened his arms, and she threw herself against him. At least she managed not to sniffle. His arms closed tight around her, pulling her in against the hard muscles of his chest. She felt the whisper of his lips brushing her forehead. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re okay now.”

  Toleffson sighed. “Okay, let’s gather up these two miserable excuses for criminals and get them back to town. Whole lot of law enforcement types
want to talk to them, once they figure out who’s got jurisdiction.”

  Broadus sat up, his eyes regaining some of their old snap. “I am a citizen of the Republic of Texas. I recognize no law but theirs.”

  “I’m sure the Rangers will be delighted to hear that, seeing as how they’re currently fighting with the Feds over who gets to nail you to the wall.” Nando jerked Broadus to his feet, fastening his hands behind him.

  Seifert groaned again, and Toleffson glanced down at him. “Who’s this? And who’s responsible for putting him out of commission?”

  “I am,” Deirdre mumbled against Tom’s chest. “His name’s Seifert. He tried to…get familiar with me.”

  She felt Tom’s chest muscles stiffen beneath her cheek. She put a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. I took care of it. I hit him with a cannonball.”

  He stared down at her, his forehead furrowed. He looked as if he might like to check her for concussion.

  Nando kicked a piece of crumpled metal on the floor next to Seifert’s prone body, grinning. “Oh man. He’s going to have a hell of a time living this down. Very nicely done, Ms. Brandenburg.”

  “Put him in the car with Broadus,” the chief rumbled. “He’ll probably need a stop at the hospital—we can call ahead so Friesenhahn has a deputy waiting to keep him in custody. We’ll get all of this sorted out when we get back in town.”

  He turned back to Tom and Deirdre. “Okay, Ames, given the way this turned out, I’m not going to haul you in, although I ought to throw you in a cell for obstructing my investigation. Now go back to Konigsburg and see if you can stay out of my sight for the rest of the week.”

  Deirdre heard Tom sigh as he rubbed his cheek against her hair. “Okay, babe, let’s head back down. Clem’s waiting to hear that you’re okay, along with everybody else at the Faro.”

  “I said you could go back to the Faro, Ames, not Ms. Brandenburg.” The chief’s voice had an undercurrent of steel.