“I saw Cody today,” I said. “He asked about you.”
Todd’s slump grew slumpier.
“I guess I’ll call the real estate agent about selling this place. You know, to pay for my brother’s lawyer.”
He didn’t budge from the couch, but a hint of consternation flickered on that poker face.
Martyrdom did not suit me. Neither did passive aggression. I’d rather go for the jugular and be done with it.
“Todd, I can’t stand this. Because of Shawna, I’m losing my brother, my career, and now my home. I’d hate to lose you too, but if you stick with Shawna, I can’t see us resuming the friendship we had before.”
“I don’t want the friendship we had before.”
It took me a minute to pick my jaw off the floor. It’d take longer to pull the knife out of my back. “I guess you told me. When are you moving out?”
He straightened from his slump and smacked the remote to cut the TV. “I miss having a girl. Shawna’s filling that gap. I’ll admit, I didn’t think I’d like her this much.”
“Like her this much?” I gasped. “So get another girl. Why does it have to be Shawna?”
“Because you ruined me for everybody else. Most girls around here won’t touch me because they’re scared of you. Except for Shawna. And most girls aren’t as exciting as you. Except for Shawna. She likes to scheme as much as you do.”
“I’m not a schemer.” My chin rose. “I’m a planner.”
“You’re jealous.”
“Am not.” My bottom lip pushed out. “I’d be happy if you were with anyone else but Shawna.”
“I don’t think so. You won’t admit it to yourself because you like to be right. You and me?” Todd drew to standing. “We had something special. All those crazy capers. It was fun.”
“We can still have fun, Todd. Just as long as it doesn’t involve a Branson.”
His cerulean blues narrowed until they glinted cobalt. “There’s the problem. You can involve yourself with a Branson, but I can’t.”
“You chose the wrong kind of Branson. Besides, Luke’s a step-Branson, not a real one.” The gray- and blue-eyed babies danced in my head. Who was I kidding? Luke was still a Branson. “Okay, it’s not fair. You’re right.”
“Me and Shawna, it’s complicated. I don’t know if it’ll work. But you’ve been breaking my heart ever since you annulled our marriage and started seeing Luke Harper. I want you. Shawna’ll have to do. Who else is there in Halo?”
It made me queasy to think Shawna could be my substitute. How could he think we were similar? “Was this even about Cody? Have you been dating my nemesis to teach me some sort of lesson?”
His jaw tightened. The words ground from between clenched teeth. “I loved you, Cherry. Still love you.”
Finally the words I’d both dreaded and wanted to hear. From the wrong man. My heartbreak flared into anger. “Then you shouldn’t have screwed up our one-day marriage. For an ace card player, you have piss-poor timing. Need I remind you that you spent our wedding night in a Vegas jail? Because you couldn’t resist ‘just one more’ poker game.”
“I knew I could win,” he cried. “And I did.”
“And you got the crap beat out of you, were arrested, and all the money you won went toward bailing you out.”
“And paying for you to fly home by yourself. I let you go then but ever since, I was biding my time, waiting for your temper to cool. Then Harper showed. And you’ve been dancing to his tune ever since.”
I didn’t know what grated me more, that he’d played me like one of his poker opponents—bluffing the seriousness of his feelings until he had a better hand—or that he thought I could be played by Luke Harper. “I can’t help it if Luke and I have a history.”
“I’ve known you longer.”
Heat spiraled up my neck and into my cheeks. “I’m caught in Brakeman drama and this soap opera is throwing me off my game. I’ve got more important things to do than listen to this.”
“I’m not the one throwing you off and you know it.”
We glowered at each other from across the room. My chest hurt and my hips ached where my fingers had dug into my sides to keep them from shaking.
Dammit if Todd wasn’t right though. I was jealous. This wasn’t just about Shawna. I wanted to keep Todd but without the romance. I was the worst possible friend.
My pride told me to walk. My heart told me to stay.
I ducked my head and spoke to the stained pine flooring. “After college, I never got over Luke. I should have told you when we were dating—probably shouldn’t have dated you in the first place—but I didn’t want to lose you and I didn’t know Luke’d come back to Halo. I don’t know what’ll happen between me and him, but I’m sorry I’ve been hiding it from you.”
Todd grunted, but unfolded his arms from his chest and shoved them into the pockets of his cargo shorts. “I don’t like it. I don’t like him. But I’m glad you finally admitted it.”
“Can we still be friends?” I bit hard on my lip to keep my eyes from tearing. “Please?”
“I’ve been going back and forth on that for a long time. I want more…” He shrugged. “But I don’t want to lose you either. We’ve been friends too long.”
I dropped my hands from my hips and flexed my fingers. “But what about Shawna? What’s Cody going to think?”
“I know you, Cherry. You’ve got something.” Todd’s segue surprised me. “What was on that paper you tried to hide from me the other day?”
“Dangit.” I banged the hardwood with my boot heel. “I never could keep anything from you. You’re too good at playing it cool. I’m never sure what’s going on in your head.”
“I’m not selling you out.” He crossed the room, stopping before me. “I want to help Cody too. And not just because he’s my best friend. Y’all are my family.”
“You feel guilty about seeing Shawna.”
“It didn’t go the way I planned.”
“What does?” My bitterness fled. I loved him too. Despite the misbalance in our feelings, we’d been together too long to stay angry. “What I have, it’s sensitive. You can’t tell Shawna.”
“Why haven’t you used it yet?”
“Believe it or not Todd, I don’t hate Shawna enough to hurt her.”
“Must be bad.”
“It’s big. And holding on to it feels as bad as not telling.” I took a deep breath. “I know where her father is. And where he’s been. She’ll blame my mother and transfer that blame to me and Cody.”
Todd’s eyes widened. He massaged his jaw, then dropped his hand. “I can tell it’s been hurting you to hold on to it. I’m sorry I’ve been making it worse.”
“I’ve been doing the same to you.”
He reached for me. I stepped into his arms, letting my head fall against his chest. One of his big hands patted my back, then slid to cup my head. I wrapped my arms around his waist, comforted by the steady thumping beneath his pecs. We hugged until awkwardness made us untangle our arms.
Stepping back, I looked up and studied the serious expression staring back at me. I wasn’t ready to deal with serious expressions, particularly Todd’s. I sought another distraction. “You want to talk to a dude named Palmetto with me?”
He grinned. “Of course.”
“I need to catch you up on everything going on at Halo House. I found another murder victim today.”
“I missed this.” His lack of surprise reminded me of how much we’d been through.
“Me too.”
Todd’s forehead tightened.
I took a step back, worried we were headed toward another deep moment. “Everything okay, hon?”
“Is Palmetto named for the tree or the bug?”
The address Rosie had given
me took us to a farm lane Todd and I recognized from our former Halo High days. Just past the crossroads of two highways, the lane led to an abandoned barn on the edge of a field used for grazing cattle. Having been graffitied by every high school class for the last thirty years, the paint kept the abandoned corn crib from rotting out altogether.
The spot was a popular destination for country kids. Set far enough from the road no one could see you drinking or smoking or getting frisky. Set far enough from the farm no one cared as long as you didn’t upset the cattle.
“How old is this Palmetto?” asked Todd after I’d explained the Brakeman murders, Parker’s stalking of Hazel, and the threats toward me and Ada.
I shrugged. “I don’t know for sure if he’s a person. But he’s supposedly got intel on Parker Brakeman-Newson. If they’re about the same age, I’d say early twenties.”
“I never liked it when graduates showed and tried to hang with us when we were in high school.”
“You didn’t complain when they brought beer. Palmetto must have something that’d make high schoolers tolerate him.”
We knew not to drive up the lane, but to park behind the line of cars and walk. The chilly temperature made me dig my gloved hands into my pea-green peacoat’s pockets and I felt glad I had worn something warmer than my ripped fleece hoodie. Our boots scuffed the dirt road spotlighted by Todd’s phone-turned-flashlight. Down the lane, we could hear music and the familiar strains of teenage laughter and excited talking. Flickering light and the scent of woodsmoke drew us forward, but as we grew closer the scent of something more pungent also hung in the air.
“We should’ve brought beer,” said Todd.
“That’s all I need, to get busted for giving alcohol to minors.”
“I meant for us.”
“Let’s get a drink after this.” I smiled. “I know a great bar where you can meet my new friends.”
He wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “I’m glad I came.”
We trudged forward, ignoring the car to our left. Low giggles followed a blistering joint trail, passed amongst the little lawbreakers.
I was glad I had brought Todd and not Luke, who would’ve felt compelled to ditch my Palmetto intel for a pot-and-underage-drinking bust.
At the corn crib, we moved between the small huddles, asking for Palmetto. A young punk with his pants belted low and enough piercings to set off a metal detector pointed us toward the opposite side of the building. Long weeds slapped our legs. The stench of pot grew stronger. The ground was littered with other paraphernalia. Evidence of a harder form of recreation I didn’t know existed among Halo’s youth.
“I’ve a feeling where this intel is headed,” I said.
“Things have changed from our time. I saw kids drinking wine and it wasn’t Boone’s Farm. It even had a cork.”
“Kids grow up fast these days. And they start early. I had to sneak out after curfew to do this stuff. Don’t their parents care they’re not home at dinner time?”
On the far side of the corn crib, we found a tall lanky young man with a crewcut and a face fit for a Clearasil commercial. Spotting us, he pinched the burnt end of his joint and slipped it into his pants pocket.
“Palmetto?” Still didn’t know if it meant tree or bug. He was tall and thin, like the palm.
He squinted in the dark. “Who’s asking?”
“Cherry Tucker. Rosie sent me.”
“Right.” His gander took long enough to curl my lip and for Todd to tighten a hand on my shoulder. “You don’t look very old. What are you, a nurse?”
“I’m an artist.” I hid my confusion. “Do you know Parker?”
He fingered his lip, still giving me the eyeball. “Look, why did Rosie send you? Are you selling or buying?”
I didn’t want to give away my ignorance, but it sure was hard to play smart when I felt this dumb. “What’s Parker doing? Selling or buying?”
He stood there, still playing with his lip, studying me.
“I know Hazel too,” I hedged. “I’m looking to help her out. If I knew what Parker wanted with her, maybe we could make a deal?”
“Now I know who you are.” He grabbed the backpack at his feet and slung it over a shoulder. “I didn’t recognize you at first.”
“What do you mean?”
He stepped toward me, flashed a look at Todd, and backed off. “Parker’s going to be pissed at Rosie. You should’ve minded your own business.”
“Hey, wait,” I called, but Palmetto had skittered into the neighboring field. His long legs flew over a fence and he disappeared from view.
“Bug, not tree,” I said. “And I hate palmetto bugs.”
“Hard to catch,” said Todd.
“They’re a damn nuisance. And they give me the creeps.”
We scanned the fields for more cockroaches, but like his namesake, Palmetto had swiftly disappeared. My concern remained with Parker and what he was doing with the Halo House ladies. Palmetto was the key. I had a strong hunch it wasn’t Parker who had pushed me into the bushes and stolen my truck. It had been Palmetto. Seemed like something a nasty bug would do. Probably didn’t want me to see him flitting away from the Tea Grove.
Todd and I retraced our hike around the corn crib. We stepped around one couple groping on a blanket and avoided another nestled on a rusting plow, sharing a cigarette. They gave us the teenage version of the stink eye.
“These kids must know Parker,” I said to Todd. “If not personally, by reputation. Do you think they’ll talk to us?”
“Can’t hurt to try.” Todd shrugged. “But better be careful. No one likes a narc.”
“Is that how we look? Like narcs?” I shook my head. “It wasn’t so long ago that I was rolling around on a blanket beneath the eaves of the corn crib.”
“Don’t feel bad. You’re not that old. You still have it in you.”
“Are you kidding me? The ground is cold and hard as a brick. My corn crib snogging days are long gone.” I pointed toward a group of youngsters huddled around trash burning in a metal can. “Let’s talk to that crew. At least it’ll be warm.”
We approached the small bonfire and wormed our way between teens.
“Hey there.” I held my hands before the flames. “That’s better.”
The disenchanted youth cut me glances filled with disdain. Almost as good as Ada’s.
“Is Parker showing tonight?” I asked. “I’ve got something for him. From Halo House.”
A girl in a knit beanie glanced at the guy standing next to her. His thick glasses, long curly hair, and beard screamed hipster wannabe. His letter jacket screamed, “I’m still in high school.” Neither spoke.
“Palmetto said he might be around,” I suggested. “And I need to talk to Parker.”
“I don’t know.” The girl bumped her elbow against hipster letter jacket and they walked off.
We were left with one guy. Sullenness marked his features. Sullenness and a neck tattoo. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and kept his eyes on a piece of burning cardboard. “What do you want with Parker?”
“Mostly I need to talk to him. Do you know anything about Halo House?”
“It’s an old folks’ home.”
“Actually, it’s a premier senior-living residence.”
His glare made Todd poke me.
I gave the angry youth my best customer service smile. “Tomato-tomahto. Do you know what Parker’s doing there?”
The guy pulled a phone from his pocket, thumbed the screen, and stalked away.
Behind us, a voice murmured, “She wants to know about Parker.”
I whirled around. The beanie girl spoke to another guy. Spotting me, the girl ran toward the lane of cars. The new guy—with a jacket of denim rather than letter—motioned toward me and trud
ged toward the corn crib.
“Todd, follow the kid with the phone. He might be texting Palmetto or Parker. I’m going in there.” I pointed at the corn crib.
“That shed’s rotting out,” said Todd. “Be careful.”
“You be careful too. That guy looks like he’s in Halo High’s young thugs club.”
“I doubt he’s in a club, Cherry. I don’t even think he’s in high school.”
I glanced over my shoulder. The denim jacket guy had slipped into the corn crib. “Gotta go. Catch you in a minute.”
Inside the corn crib, my nose wrinkled at the musty smell of wood rot and mildew. I had forgotten how narrow the corn crib was, even with the old bins and floor ripped out. Above us the slatted walls widened and stars winked through a hole in the roof. I could hear the rustling of birds roosting in the eaves.
I hoped they were birds. Just like I hoped the scrabbling sounds closer to my feet were mice.
Through the gapped wall slats, I could see the shadowy movement of teens milling around outside the crib. Their presence bolstered my courage. Denim Jacket didn’t sport the neck tattoo and hostile attitude of our bonfire friend. I approached him more readily.
“Hey,” I said. “You must know I’m looking for Parker.”
“I don’t know anything, girl.” “Girl” finished on a high-pitched giggle.
I had traded hostile for high. I sighed. But high would be more likely to talk than hostile. “What’s your name?”
“Jordan.” He giggled. “I already know yours.”
“Jordan, do you know Parker?”
“Sure, everyone knows Parker.” Jordan circled the narrow space, trailing his hand along the walls.
I pivoted to track him. “What’s Parker doing at Halo House? There are elderly ladies involved. Grandmothers. They could get hurt.”
“You’ve got it all wrong.” Jordan roamed to the crib’s far end and leaned against the wall. “He’s helping them out.”
I followed, stopping next to him. Centering his dilated eyes in my direct gaze, I placed a hand on his sleeve to hold him in place and leaned against the wall with him. “Tell me how he’s helping. Because I ain’t seeing it.”
A Composition in Murder (A Cherry Tucker Mystery Book 6) Page 20
