by Dixie Cash
“Dammit, Ed,” she yelled back. “I had that intercom system installed so you could talk to me when I’m back here and not wake the dead by yelling.”
Edwina’s mocking, sultry voice in an exaggerated Southern drawl came over the intercom. “Miizzz Overstreeet, could you pleeezzze come to the front?”
Debbie Sue parted the curtain dividing the storage area from the shop. “Now, is that so hard?”
“Damn, girl,” Quint Matthews drawled, “you didn’t have to get all dressed up just for me.”
Debbie Sue froze. She had expected Quint to show up eventually, but he had said he would call when he got to town. She had hoped he wouldn’t come today. Not that she didn’t want to see him. She just didn’t want him to see her looking like a clown. She was no different from every other woman alive, she figured. She wanted an old flame to regret what he lost, not thank God for the lucky break.
She could see Quint struggling to keep a straight face. She yanked off the red yarn wig. “It’s Halloween, asshole,” she told him. “We’re dressed as something we’d like to be.”
He clapped his hat back on his head and jammed his fists against his waist, his mouth turned up in a big Quint grin. “Awww. Well, darlin’, if you needed to dress up as a fantasy, you could have come as Mrs. Quint Matthews.”
“Oh, yeah? I thought about it, but I couldn’t figure out how to grow a pair of balls.”
The grin fell from Quint’s face and instantly she regretted having said something so mean. She laid her armload of supplies on her workstation counter and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, Quint, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I never would’ve said that, but you gave me an opening I couldn’t pass up.”
“That’s all right,” he said, his head hanging and shoulders slumped forward. “Guess I had it coming.”
She could see his pride was still smarting. She continued to pat his shoulder. “C’mon, now. Perk up. You know I was kidding. Look, you probably don’t have all day and I don’t either. My one o’clock appointment and those kids in their costumes will be here any minute. Let’s get down to business. What did you want to talk to us about?”
Quint was the type to take complete charge of his surroundings, but now he looked around the room in obvious discomfort. For a moment Debbie Sue thought he might bolt. Missing was his overinflated ego. What ever his problem, it must have changed him. “What’s wrong, Quint? I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Hell, hon,” Edwina said to him, her brow drawn into a frown of concern, “if somebody hollered boo you’d leave a vapor trail.”
He sighed, pushed his hat back with his thumb, and rubbed his brow. “Sorry, girls, but you don’t know what the last year’s been like for me. Those damn reporters from those rag magazines made a fool out of me. I think one of ’em’s still following me around even now. I just haven’t caught him yet. But when I do…” He made a fist and shook it three times.
“Well, rest assured he’s not in here,” Edwina said, taking an exaggerated look around the room.
Quint looked at the floor and shook his head. “After that bullshit with that Janine—”
“Yeah, what’s become of Eugene/Janine?” Edwina asked, plopping into her styling chair, her pink tutu sticking up around her like a turkey’s ruff. “No one’s seen hide nor hair of him since y’all broke up.”
Quint scowled. “Dammit,” he said, stabbing the air with his finger, “we did not break up. We were never together. I’ve told this story a dozen times. I was only with him, er…her—I was only with her for the photo ops. She was good-looking. It made good press.”
“Yeah,” Edwina said. “I read some of that good press. Fame’s a bitch. Look what it did to Elvis. You know, I had a dream about him the other night—”
“Could we get back to my problem?” Quint gave her a withering glare.
“Hush, Ed,” Debbie Sue said. “Let him talk.”
Quint turned to Debbie Sue. “Like I was saying, I just thought he was a good-looking woman. I wasn’t interested in her, uh, him, sexually.”
“That may be the first break your libido ever gave you,” Edwina said.
“Ed,” Debbie Sue said. “Let. Him. Talk.”
“Edwina, you don’t like me much, do you?” Quint said.
“That’s not true, Quint. I don’t have anything against you personally. You’re just always leaving yourself so wide open. Go ahead with your story. I’ll keep quiet.”
Quint sank into Debbie Sue’s styling chair and began the story of his experience with the Internet dating service. After several slow starts online, he had finally met a woman from Fort Worth. Monica. She seemed to be what he wanted—smart, funny, and as uninhibited in bed as he was.
Though his ranch was more than a two-hour drive from Fort Worth, without a complaint, he made nine trips up to see her and take her out to the places she wanted to go. They had attended concerts at Bass Hall, spent weekends at the Worthington Hotel, dined in the Reata and other good downtown restaurants. He had to admit he enjoyed the performances at Bass Hall and he liked staying in the luxurious Worthington. The food downtown had been great.
He had, however, found it odd that Monica never wanted him to come to her home. They had always met at a location of her choice. The only phone number he had for her was for a cell. He told himself a young woman being cautious was only natural these days, but after three months and nine dates, her constant vigilance began to worry him.
Debbie Sue, too, sat down in a dryer seat to hear the rest of the story.
When unauthorized charges began appearing on his bank-card bills he hadn’t connected them to Monica. Visa’s customer-service rep had sent him information on identity theft but told him she doubted that was his problem. She had suggested he look at those “closest to him” for the possibility of a use without permission.
Then, three weeks ago, Quint casually mentioned his predicament during dinner with Monica. She had been sympathetic and caring. He ended by joking and saying to her, “For all I know, it might be you. You’re pretty secretive.”
She had laughed, excused herself to go to the ladies’ room, and he hadn’t seen her since. She vanished into the night, leaving a maze of confusion in his head and a wounded heart in his chest.
And a badly bruised ego, Debbie Sue thought. “My God, Quint,” she said. “That girl’s stolen your identity.”
“Damn, Quint,” Edwina followed up, “didn’t you call the police? Something bad could have happened to her. She could have been abducted by aliens or something.”
Debbie Sue shot her a “shut your mouth” glare.
Quint ignored her. “I called her cell number and she answered. Told me she was okay, that it was all wrong between us and I should forget about her. Just that, nothing else. Every call I’ve made to her cell since, I get a ‘no longer in service’ message.”
“And that’s where we come in?” Debbie Sue asked.
“I want y’all to help me find her. If she’s done this to me, she could’ve done it to someone else, or will soon.”
“But besides her stealing your identity, you cared for her,” Debbie Sue said, studying him intently. He really did seem to be distraught.
Quint looked down. “Yeah, I cared. I’m capable of caring for somebody. But I care about my reputation more.”
Ah, Debbie Sue thought, the real Quint was back.
“We’re not talking enough money for me to lose sleep over,” he said. “Not yet, anyway. I want to know why she did it. I thought we had something. But most of all, I want to make sure she doesn’t sell the story to the tabloids. It’d make me madder’n a peeled rattler seeing her make money off making an ass out of me.”
“Why would she expose herself to the press?” Debbie Sue asked him. “If she’s done what you said, she could face charges.”
“The people she’d be dealing with at those rags would protect her identity if they thought they’d sell a bunch of magazines. You think these assholes who leave anony
mous tips with scandal mongers don’t get paid well?”
“I guess I never thought about it,” Edwina remarked. “Man, Quint, this is some serious karma. In some other life you must have really pissed somebody off.”
Quint ran his fingers through his skillfully layered blond hair, a somber expression marring his handsome face. He looked intently at Debbie Sue. “Will you help me? I’ll pay you double your usual fee.”
The look of desperation in his eyes was more than she could stand. Out the window went her plan and her promise to Buddy to double the fee. Edwina opened her mouth, but Debbie Sue spoke up first. “You don’t have to do that, Quint. We’ll help you. We just need all the information you can give us. Dates, phone numbers, anything.”
Quint nodded. “I’ve got all the information in my suitcase and some of it on my laptop. I’ll bring it to you tomorrow.”
“You’ve brought a suitcase?” Edwina said. “You planning on sleeping on Salt Lick’s one-park bench?”
“I’m staying at a friend’s house in Midland. I want to be close by in case you dig up something for me.”
“What’s her name and number?” Debbie Sue said, rising and walking over to the reception desk and taking a pencil from a coffee mug.
“What’s whose name and number?” Quint asked.
“The woman you’re staying with in Midland. You know, in case I need you and you’re not answering your phone.”
“It’s not a her. It’s Tag Freeman. I don’t have his number on me, but you can reach him if you need to at his restaurant.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Debbie Sue said. “I remember Tag. The last time I saw him was in Oklahoma City. Buddy and I’ve been to his place to eat a couple of times, but we haven’t run into him. Sorry. I just assumed you were staying with a woman.”
Edwina tsked. “Poor guy. Been scared off women altogether, have you?”
Debbie Sue felt like kicking Edwina for her sarcasm. Quint was obviously in pain.
“Not entirely,” he answered. “In fact, I’m leaving here to visit a lady friend here in town. You might know her. Allison Barker?”
“Allison at the dress shop?” Debbie Sue asked. “Sure, we know her.”
Edwina gasped. “That poor little thing never leaves that shop. She’s innocent as a lamb. How the hell did you meet her?”
Quint glared at her, then turned back to Debbie Sue. “I’ll get back to y’all tomorrow with everything you need to get things rolling. I want to do this in a professional way. I expect a daily report. I’m not gonna rest until this is taken care of.” He touched the brim of his hat with his finger. “Thanks, girls, I really do appreciate it.”
He walked out, but stuck his head back through the doorway. “If your face wasn’t all screwed up, I’d kiss you.”
“Get outta here,” Debbie Sue yelled.
He laughed and shut the door.
She and Edwina stood in the doorway and watched as the Domestic Equalizers’ latest customer climbed into his truck.
“That’s the biggest, brightest red pickup I ever saw,” Edwina said.
“It’s a truck, Ed. A one-ton dually. He uses it to pull a stock trailer.”
“Two miles to the gallon, I’m guessing.”
“I can’t believe it,” Debbie Sue said, shaking her head. “We just had a conversation about identity theft a couple of days ago and now we’ve got our first case. And the victim is Quint Matthews, of all people.”
“You’d think a person would have been smarter than to pick someone as well-known as Quint.”
“Or as stubborn. When he sets his mind to something, he never lets go. That hard head went a long way toward making him a champion.”
“My keen ear picked up that his heart is being stubborn, too.” Edwina turned from the doorway and stepped back into the salon. “I couldn’t help but notice, baby girl. You gave him a pass on doubling the fee.”
Debbie Sue could feel her brow furrowed and she remembered the latest magazine article she had read about frowning causing wrinkles. “I know. And after I told Buddy I would, too.”
“How do you think he met Allison?” Edwina asked.
“I don’t know. If I were going to put two people together, I’d put her with Tag, not Quint.”
“I don’t think I know this Tag.”
“He used to be a rodeo bullfighter. The best ever. He got hurt and got a big settlement from a lawsuit.”
“A bull got him, huh?”
“No, shopping got him. He was in a store and a bunch of equipment fell on top of him from about fifty feet up.”
“Lawsuit city,” Edwina said.
“Yep.”
“Speaking of Quint, I suppose it’s already occurred to you that Buddy’s gonna scream like a mashed cat when he finds out you’re seeing or talking to Quint every day.”
For the first time ever Debbie Sue dreaded seeing Buddy when she got home. “He already did, but I tried to help him get over it.”
Edwina gave her an arch look. “Oh, really? In the usual way?”
Debbie Sue couldn’t stop the grin that sneaked across her mouth as she remembered yesterday’s confession to Buddy, the argument that followed, and the mind-numbing resolution. Buddy Overstreet knew how to end an argument. “The usual. I’ll have to decide later the best way to drop the news about the daily contact.”
Edwina gave a mischievous chuckle. “Well, you could always—”
“Cut it out, Ed.” Debbie Sue knew what Edwina was going to suggest and it was, well, no one’s damn business what went on between her and Buddy.
Edwina opened her palms, her face a picture of wounded innocence. “What’d I say? Anyway, after you’ve dropped the rest of the news, while you’ve got him weak and trembling, maybe you could get him to fix that speeding ticket I got over in Odessa last week.”
“For your information, Ed, Buddy and I don’t settle all our disagreements in bed.”
Edwina gave her another arch look. “Really? Since when?”
eleven
Trick-or-treat? Mom, I’m twelve. I’d die if someone saw me. Besides, I’m not eating carbs. I don’t want my face to break out from all that yucky sweet stuff.”
Allison stared at her daughter, who had always been an eating machine, especially when it came to sweets. When had she become enlightened about carbohydrates? “What about the mall? Are we still going to the mall, then out to dinner? I’ve invited Quint and told him that’s what we’re doing.”
“Quint? Quint Matthews is coming? Ohmigod. This is so cool. I can’t wait to tell Susan Kay. I knew he’d like you, Mom. Can I take some friends? Can I pick the place to eat? Pleeeze?”
“I was thinking—”
“Could we please go to Tag Freeman’s? A bunch of kids from school are gonna be there. Pleeeze?”
The thought of seeing Tag made Allison’s pulse quicken. But somehow, feeling attracted to him while she was being escorted by Quint didn’t seem right. “I guess so,” she said, hoping her eagerness didn’t show. “Yes, I guess we could go there.”
“Yes!” Jill made a fist and pumped her arm. “How many friends can I take?” She grabbed up the phone and began keying in a number.
Allison smiled, glad to see her daughter so happy and so animated, but she gently removed the phone from Jill’s hand. “Just hold on. There are only so many seats in Quint’s pickup. I believe two extra guests would be enough. Think you can find two on such short notice?”
“No problem.” Jill grabbed the phone again and dashed from the room, but she returned just as quickly. She wrapped her arms around Allison and kissed her on each cheek. “Thanks, Mommy. You’re the best.”
She was “Mommy” again. The word touched Allison’s heart as she watched her daughter leave the room for the second time. Allison would walk through a bed of burning coals for that kid, but truly, going out with Quint again wasn’t such a sacrifice to make.
Thirty minutes later she was slipping into a pair of jeans and listening to the gi
ggling and chatter coming from her daughter’s bedroom. Jill and her friends sounded like a bevy of squawking hens. She couldn’t remember giggling that much when she was their age. Maybe she should talk to them before they left about appropriate behavior.
She walked up the hallway. “Jill?” She opened the door to her daughter’s bedroom and stopped. Jill and her two friends were there, or at least she thought that’s who they were. Apparently the girls had used the time between hysterical laughter and breathless banter to add ten pounds of makeup to each of their faces.
“Honey, why the heavy makeup? You said you weren’t going to be trick-or-treating to night.”
“Mother,” Jill said, stamping one foot. “We’re not made up for Halloween. You said I could wear makeup.”
“I said some makeup. A little bit. You know, blush or some lip gloss? You’ve got more junk on your faces than the front row of a church revival. You look like—”
“Hookers?” Casee Thompson said.
Jill and Susan Kay giggled.
“Cool,” Casee added.
Allison rolled her eyes. “Come on. Right now. All of you go into the bathroom and wash that stuff off. You’re prettier girls without it.”
The three girls dragged past her with the enthusiasm of death-row inmates meeting their doom.
“Use soap and try to remember, eye shadow is meant to work as a highlighter to complement the face. Never, ever wear any color on your entire eyelid, especially green, blue, and”—she looked straight at Casee—“definitely not black.”
Watching the girls lather their faces, Allison thought about her own appearance and Quint’s. He would be dressed impeccably. Now she wished she had bought more of the stylish clothing she stocked in the dress shop. Looking fashionable might help sales. She remembered something Tag had said about impressing the customers. She made a mental note to work on that, starting tomorrow.
Before she could return to her own bedroom to rethink her jeans and white starched shirt, the doorbell rang. The subdued trio in the bathroom returned to near-hysterical giggling. She reached into the bathroom for the doorknob. “Girls, try to act like young ladies to night,” she said as she closed the door on their prattle. She doubted her words would be heeded, but she needed to say them.
