Damn it, Dolores thought. This was supposed to be easy. I was gonna walk in here and bleed all over the place, and Miller was going to believe me. Something better work out. My shoulder hurts like a mother. “Well, it was dark, but it was near her house. It was a woman. Yes, I’m sure it was a woman.”
“So what you’re saying is it could have been someone else?”
“Well…” She made her voice more childlike. “I suppose anything is possible. But who else would want to hurt me?”
“I don’t know. I guess I was hoping maybe you could tell me that. Did you actually see whoever it was that stabbed you?”
“I still think it was Kennedy.”
“Think? Or know?”
Dolores was worried. She knew a false accusation, or one fraught with doubts at this point, would serve no one. It had to stick enough to see Kennedy convicted. “I’ll think about it.”
“You do that and get back to me.”
“Thanks for the bandage, Miller.”
“Sure. No problem. Do you want me to drive you home?”
“No. The rain’s stopped. I’ll be fine.”
“OK. Maybe the walk home will give you some time to think.”
“Yeah, maybe.” But the only thought in Dolores’s head right now was that her bitch half-sister was too lucky for words. Kennedy could escape hell with the devil on her ass. Or maybe not. This wasn’t over.
* * *
Wylie and Kennedy nearly collided with Miller as he was coming out of his office. “What a coincidence,” he stated when he recovered from his surprise. “Just the woman I was looking for.”
“Why now?” Wylie asked, clearly exasperated.
“Dolores?” He raised his eyebrows in question.
“What about her?” Kennedy asked.
“She said you stabbed her.”
“What? What are you talking about?” Kennedy said.
“Did you or did you not stab her with a knife about two hours ago?”
“I did not.”
“She’s been with me,” Wylie declared.
“Of course she has,” Miller replied.
“What is going on? Is Dolores dead now too?” Kennedy asked, a little afraid of the answer.
“Don’t you know?” Miller asked.
“No, she doesn’t know, or she wouldn’t ask,” Wylie replied, anger rising. “Stop playing games.”
“No one’s playing here,” Miller replied. “Come in and sit.”
They went into the office and took seats, Miller behind the desk, Wylie and Kennedy in front.
“A couple of hours ago, Dolores came in here bleeding from a knife wound. Said you stabbed her. Over the money. That you were trying to kill her because you wanted all the cash. I am sure she wanted me to arrest you for assault with a deadly weapon.”
Kennedy laughed. Miller stared at her in disbelief. “This isn’t funny, Kennedy. Someone stabbed her, and she claims it was you.”
“You don’t believe her, do you?” Kennedy looked Miller in the eye. “Otherwise, I am pretty sure you would have come for me earlier.” She finally stopped laughing and took a few deep breaths. “She is so lying to you.”
“Well, there is something she said that made me suspicious.”
“Like?” probed Wylie.
“She said Kennedy stabbed her in the same spot she stabbed Weir.”
Kennedy thought for a moment. “How would Dolores know where I stabbed Weir?”
“That was kinda my question. She wasn’t there, was she?”
“No.” She thought for a moment. “And I would guess that someone telling her later would say Weir was stabbed, maybe even say stabbed in the shoulder, but most people wouldn’t know precisely where, would they?”
“Not likely, which is why I doubted her accusation. But you still seem to be the only one with a motive.”
“Really! Since, you see, there is no money.” Kennedy laughed again.
“Do you want to explain that to me?” Miller asked.
“PJ lost it all. Probably due to James’s financial advice, but it’s gone. James told me this morning. I would have told Dolores, but I haven’t seen her.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Miller asked.
“No, she’s not. She came to my room after her meeting and told me. I suppose I have to love her for herself now. And I was so hoping to marry rich.” Wylie’s sarcasm went unappreciated by both the sheriff and Kennedy.
“No money? James, I’m sure, will corroborate this.” Miller shook his head in confusion.
Of course,” Kennedy replied. “Call him now if you like.”
“Did PJ know?” Miller asked.
“No. James said he didn’t find out himself until he did an audit after PJ’s death.”
“Dolores didn’t know either?” Miller asked.
“No. I asked James if I could tell her, but I haven’t seen her yet. Whoever stabbed her, it wasn’t me. But she was clearly trying to get me arrested.” Kennedy hesitated, thinking. “Why would she do that? Does she hate me so much?”
“Maybe, but that’s not why. A convicted felon can’t profit from the felony,” Wylie responded.
“So what she said was true. If she put me in jail, she’d get all the money? If there was any to get.”
“Yep,” agreed Miller.
“What a bitch.”
“Yep,” agreed Miller and Wylie in unison.
“So who did stab her?”
“Whoever her partner or partners in crime are,” Wylie said.
“So what do we do now?” Kennedy asked.
“Right now we don’t have any proof of anything. No incriminating evidence that would stand up in court. Nothing,” Miller said.
“What about the knife?” Kennedy asked.
“It has blood on it, but nothing else. I will agree it belonged to Sweet, but how does that help?”
“I suppose it doesn’t unless you can figure out who was in it with him.” Wylie’s frustration was showing.
“Exactly,” Miller agreed.
“Shouldn’t I tell Dolores about the money?” Kennedy asked.
“I don’t think she’ll believe you,” Miller said.
“What about James? She’ll believe him.”
“Not necessarily. Not if she thinks he’s on your side,” Wylie responded.
“He’s right. If I were you, I’d stay out of sight for a few days. I’ll tell Norma you’re unavailable—you know he only wants what’s best for you,” Miller said.
“That’s perfect. We were going to ask if we could go to Abilene for dinner and some shopping. Didn’t want to violate your ‘don’t leave town’ order. Maybe we’ll just stay over for a night or two.”
“Good idea. Now get out of here. I have work to do.”
“I have to tell Mama, first.”
“You go on. I’ll tell your mama.”
“Don’t make her worry, OK?”
“I won’t.”
* * *
Dolores was sitting at her glass dining room table, drinking red wine from a champagne glass. Her Chinese silk red robe was expensive, but unflattering, but she didn’t particularly care at this moment. Her left arm was in a sling, which didn’t inhibit her ability to drink. Tonight, she was pretty drunk. And talking out loud to no one in particular. Even her fancy decorations and newly painted dark-red walls didn’t cheer her up.
“Shit! It was so perfect. I can’t figure out what went wrong. That little bitch should be in jail. But no, that son of a bitch Miller, just like almost every other piece of crap man in this town, wants to protect little Kennedy. Why can’t they see what a conniving little whore she is? Shit!”
She wondered when Kennedy would ever get out from under her skin. Her life would have been nearly perfect if the bitch had never been born. Dolores was the firstborn and the snare that kept PJ. Which made her mama happy. And her mama stayed happy with her, lavishing her with all the clothes and toys PJ’s winnings could buy. She was the center of the universe. Until th
at bitch popped out. Suddenly her mama was angry all the time and drank too much. P.J. was never around at all. Dolores knew her mama figured out who Kennedy’s father was. It’s not like it was a secret. Still, Ruby wouldn’t give him up. So she spent all her time planning a way to make him stick. And not paying attention to Dolores.
One drunken night passed with Ruby and PJ laughing too loudly, and, nine months after that, out popped Delie. Another competitor for attention and love. It was too much to bear. Dolores decided to get revenge. She would do whatever it took to get everything for herself again.
She worked on Ruby, poisoning her against PJ, which wasn’t that difficult. It wasn’t as if he was a fine, upstanding citizen. Ruby finally kicked him out. Then Freddie came into their lives. He had a habit of hanging out at the middle school and being nice to all the little girls and their mommies. He always said he believed that the hands that rocked the cradles ruled the world, and he was, after all, the mayor. Dolores sensed in him a venal streak that appealed to her. She talked him up to Ruby, and when they were alone, she put Freddie’s hands where they shouldn’t be. She wanted him to see her as more than a potential daughter. She had no problem giving his debauchery free rein. Dolores reveled in the attention. He showered her with little gifts and saw to her every desire. They made a great team.
So much left to do, she thought. Once it was done, she had every intention of moving on. Why should she settle for a disgusting middle-aged man old enough to be her father? A whole world was out there, and she was just cutting her teeth.
A knock sounded on the door. Dolores jumped. She reluctantly got up and made her way through the living room. “Who’s there?”
“Me.”
Dolores swung open the door to see Judy Jane smiling at her. She was resplendent in a bright-pink dress with a full skirt that added about fifty pounds to her already considerable bulk.
“Hi, honey. Looks like you’re not exactly having a good night.”
“Shut up,” Dolores snapped.
“Hey, don’t forget who your friends are,” Judy Jane sneered.
“Yeah, OK. Sorry.”
“So did he arrest her?”
“No.” This last was said with disgust.
“No? I don’t understand. What happened?”
“The son of a bitch didn’t believe Kennedy stabbed me?”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I think I said I was stabbed in the same place as Weir, and it made him suspicious.”
“I don’t know why it should. I was there, and I could have told you.”
“True. But then he’d know we were friends, and that wouldn’t help right now.”
“So we’re back where we started,” Judy Jane said with exasperation.
“This isn’t over. We will get that slut yet and have all the money for ourselves. You’ll see. Too bad we don’t have Sweet to help anymore.”
“Yeah, too bad. But even he could figure out what happened to Delie after he told you her plan. He shouldn’t have gotten so greedy. I have to tell you…I enjoyed bashing in his skull. Almost as much as you enjoyed watching me gut that little sister of yours.” Judy Jane rubbed her hands together.
“You know, when someone stops trusting me, I stop trusting them too.” Dolores said. The warning was clear.
“I trust you. You know that. I hate the little slut Kennedy as much as you do—maybe more. We’re on the same side here, since I want her to get what’s coming to her. Why doesn’t Miller arrest her already?”
“Oh, Judy Jane, I don’t think anyone could hate her more than I do. And I have no idea what it will take to get her put away. So why are you here? Did anyone see you?”
“No. I was careful. No one even knows we talk, so don’t worry. But I got a call an hour ago, and I wanted to tell you about it. And I missed you.” Judy Jane took a step closer and reached out to stroke Dolores’s cheek. Dolores smiled and took a small step back.
“A call. From who?”
“That asshole, Weir.”
“What did he want?”
“What does he always want? Money. He gave me this sob story about how broke he is and how he’s about to lose his truck and Sweet was going to help him, but now Sweet’s dead and he’s desperate.”
“Like you’d give a shit,” Dolores said.
“He thinks he and I are buddies now,” Judy Jane stated.
“Now that’s a thought that could make you puke. Why would he think that?”
“I was real nice to him after the bitch stabbed him. You never know when you might need another friend.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him I might be able to help him. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to keep him hanging. Seems he’ll do just about anything for money.”
“That’s for sure,” Dolores said, “but that could be a problem. When you can buy someone, they tend to go to the highest bidder.”
“Still, he might be useful.”
“You didn’t tell him anything specific, did you?” Dolores was a little panicky.
“Of course not. I’m not stupid. Why does everyone think I’m stupid?”
“The same reason everyone is mean to me.”
Judy Jane put her arms around Dolores. “There, there, baby. Everything is going to work out. It’s us against them, and the law is going to take care of Kennedy real soon. Don’t worry.” Judy Jane stroked Dolores’s back, then leaned in and kissed her on the mouth. Then she squeezed Dolores’s right nipple before pulling away and heading for the door. “See you later, sweetie,” Judy Jane said as the door closed behind her.
Dolores wiped off her mouth. She felt nothing but disgust. This was getting complicated, but it would all be worth it in the end.
* * *
Sheriff George Miller had a secret. It was a secret he’d kept since the first day of kindergarten. The knowledge of that secret had chewed on him every day. When you knew something and you couldn’t act on it and there wasn’t a thing you could do about changing it or resolving it, it ate at you. But maybe now there was an opportunity. And Miller was going to jump in with both feet.
When he was younger, he knew he liked her and wanted to be around her. Something about her made him feel good. He did whatever he could to get her attention. He made the football team, got good grades, and imagined his future with her and their children and grandchildren. He walked her home and carried her books and brought her little treats. She was so nice it melted his heart. He patiently waited for the day when she realized she felt the same.
It had all blown up in his face when PJ came into the picture. He had to stand by and watch as another guy took his place with her. Not that she had ever even encouraged Miller really. How could you love someone so much and them not love you back? He dealt with the anger and the injustice and watched from the sidelines, year after year. He saw her with PJ, who couldn’t even come close to being good enough for her. PJ would come around, and it was clear she would get her hopes up only to have him hurt her again and again. Even when she got pregnant with his child, which was no secret, PJ still didn’t even take care of her. Instead, he had another baby with Ruby. Miller couldn’t imagine how anyone could treat a woman like Martha that way. She deserved so much better. She deserved the world.
He approached Martha’s house, and the temperature in the patrol car rose. He broke out in a sweat, and his heart started to pound. At his age, it could be the start of a heart attack or a stroke, but he knew it wasn’t. Oh, it was his heart, all right, but not in the “go to the hospital” kind of way.
The secret was inching its way to the surface. As the saying went, “All things come to he who waits,” and George Miller was finally getting his chance. He wouldn’t mess it up this time.
He knocked on the door, and after a few minutes, Martha appeared. She looked wonderful in a cool and colorful summer dress that emphasized her lovely figure. She narrowed her eyes. Even though she was clearly upset with him, he was struck by the sheer presence of
her. His heart was screaming at him. It took all his willpower to calm himself and act like the sheriff. Nothing and no one else had ever gotten to him like this. He was fearless when confronting situations in his capacity as law enforcement, but this little woman always managed to turn his knees to water. It was embarrassing.
“Ma’am,” he said, hoping his voice was even and firm.
“Sheriff Miller.” The coldness in her tone was obvious. “Is there something I can do for you?”
Oh, is there, he thought. “Well, Miss Martha, if I might come in for a minute.”
She was clearly reluctant, but after a moment of hesitation, she stepped aside to let him into her neat little house. She ushered him to the couch and sat across from him in a small, comfortable chair. “Well?” she asked. “If you’re here to ask me about Kennedy so you can accuse her of something else, you are wasting your time.”
“Well, ma’am, Kennedy is fine. She wanted me to reassure you of that, but a lot of people are giving her a hard time.”
“So I understand. You aren’t helping the situation dragging her and Wylie in for questioning every time something happens.”
“You have to admit there has been a lot going on lately. This was a quiet town, and now we have three unsolved murders and two stabbings. All in a very short time.”
“For the record, sheriff, my daughter has every right to defend herself when someone is trying to hurt her, and you know that.”
“I agree. But Weir wanted to press charges. I had the obligation to investigate.”
“And were you satisfied that my daughter was innocent when you…investigated.” The last was sarcastic.
“Yes. I was. So I didn’t pursue it.”
Martha seemed to relax a little, and her guard slipped a bit, but she was still no doubt ready to defend Kennedy if Miller accused her daughter of anything. He was amazed at how tough this fragile-appearing woman could be when defending her child.
“I don’t think Kennedy is guilty of anything, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Miller continued.
Texas Summer Page 13
