Mississippi Nights

by D. M. Webb

  Baers chuckled. “I think that would be physically impossible.”

  Jeremy removed his baton. He reached for the door when someone in the crowd moved, and the gleaming red of a Harley caught his eye. His eyes narrowed, and he nudged Baers. “We got trouble. David’s in there.”

  Baers grimaced. “Want me to call Markston in?”

  A bottle crashed through the busted window, narrowly missing Jeremy’s head, and David’s voice followed. How many curses could his brother string together? “No. Not enough time. I’ll take David down.”

  Baers grabbed the door and threw it open. The aftermath of a bomb greeted them. Tables were overturned, bar stools lay on their sides, some shattered. A spider-webbed pattern cracked the glass.

  Eagles’ Witchy Woman played in contradiction to the scene. The only participants to the bomb aftermath party were David, jacket torn and hanging from his shoulders, and a large, tattooed man. Blood dripped from their faces. Grime clung to their clothes.

  Jeremy winced as he watched his brother crash into the wall behind the bar. He and Baers hurried inside. Baers bee-lined for the other guy. David popped up with a baseball bat in his hands, vaulted the bar, and swung at the man. The guy ducked, and the bat splintered against the bar’s edge.

  Tattoo man dove at David. Baers reached the man, threw him against the bar, and pinned his arms. Jeremy grabbed David’s shoulder before his brother could deliver another swing. He whirled David around, ducked his punch, and grabbed his brother’s wrist. The shattered bat clattered to the floor.

  He forced David’s arm up behind his back and pushed him down onto the floor with his other hand on the back of David’s neck.

  David cried out and delivered a kick to Jeremy’s shins as he went down. Jeremy lost his grip as his brother bounced away.

  David hurled a curse and dove.

  Jeremy took the hit and wrapped his arms around David’s waist as his brother tackled him to the peanut strewn floor. Nut shells crunched underneath him and dug into his neck, but he didn’t let go. Punches to his side connected against his vest. He grabbed David around the neck and pulled him over onto his back. Now elbows jabbed down upon him. Jeremy managed to throw a leg over David’s and rolled over, pinning David underneath him, his knee digging into David’s kidney.

  David’s breath, vile and drenched in alcohol, stirred the shells and sent them skittering away. Jeremy yanked David’s arms behind him and slapped the cuffs on. He felt the bunched muscles underneath him relax.

  He let up from his hold and slid to the side. David flipped over and aimed a scissor kick at his head. Jeremy ducked. Blasted viper.

  Shells dug into his knees. He pulled out his baton, but his brother suddenly stopped and rolled over to his side. Jeremy sighed in relief and leaned over him. David moaned quietly. Tears ran down David’s nose and dotted the floor.

  What made him stop?

  He scooted closer to his brother, careful of another viper attack, and rested a hand on David’s head. David didn’t move.

  “Got him, Jer?”

  Jeremy glanced at Baers. He had the tattooed guy standing, cuffed, and pressed against one of the support beams of the building. “Yeah. Go ahead and take him to the car. I’ll wait.”

  Baers nodded and prodded the man out the door. Jeremy returned his gaze to his brother lying next to him, drunk, broken, and vulnerable. “What happened to you, David?”

  Jeremy brought his clenched hand to his mouth and took a deep breath. He fought for control as his body shook. He tried to push his anger aside. Somewhere inside him was that cold void he needed.

  David turned his face further into the peanut shells, his chest heaving. When Baers returned, he helped Jeremy lift his brother to his feet. David remained silent, head down. Whatever his brother was thinking, Jeremy didn’t care to know. Right now, he had to do his job. Not worry about his little brother.

  Of the people who milled outside earlier, few remained to watch the show. The bar manager, his balding head glistening in the blue light from the cars, yelled to everyone that the bar was closed for the night.

  Baers opened the back door of Jeremy’s squad car. David collapsed on the seat. He refused to meet Jeremy’s eyes.

  Baers turned to Jeremy. “You going to book him?”

  “I should.” He motioned to the bar manager. “Mr. James, come here, please.”

  Mr. James approached. “Jeremy, you should know that there was a woman involved.”

  Baers pulled out his notebook. “Describe her.”

  “Small build, black hair, scantily dressed. Her heels were red, I think. She came on pretty strong to David. Then the big guy there came in. Yelled at her. Next thing I know, he and David were tied into each other. She high-tailed it out of there.”

  Jeremy pointed to the man who scowled at them from the back of Baers’ car. “You seen him before?”

  “No. He just came in while David was at the bar.”

  “How long was David here?”

  “About two hours or so. He and his buddies were playing pool. The woman was there. Then Sam and Toby left. David came back inside, and Sandy poured them some drinks.”

  Baers closed his notebook and looked at Mr. James. “You may press formal charges tomorrow morning.”

  Mr. James regarded Jeremy and peeked inside the squad car at David, curled up on the seat. “I should, but I won’t.” He turned back to Jeremy. “Your brother needs help.”

  Jeremy shook his head. He wasn’t getting in on this, no way. What his brother needed was another beating.

  Mr. James’ hand rested on Jeremy’s arm. “I’ve known you and your brother since y’all were little tykes. Something is eating at your brother, and the bottle ain’t gonna help him.”

  Jeremy looked away from the man’s stare. Sometimes he hated living in a small town. Too many people knew you. Knew your business. “I ain’t my brother’s keeper, Mr. James.”

  The man shrugged and turned to walk away. He took a couple of steps and glanced back at Jeremy. “If I press charges, you know David will probably have to do time. But if he agrees to rebuild what he broke, I’ll forget the whole thing.” He shuffled toward the bar, calling back over his shoulder, “I’ll keep his bike safe till he repairs my bar.”

  If he agrees to rebuild what he broke? Now, that was a double whammy. He leaned against the car, heard a soft moan from the seat, and prayed to God that David didn’t puke back there.

  Jeremy looked at Baers. “What do you think?”

  Baers, arms crossed, shrugged. “The man’s right. Throw him in the cell for the night, let him sleep it off.”

  Jeremy sighed, pushed away from the car, and scowled at Baers, at his brother, at the bar. “Absolutely unbelievable.” He rounded the car and jerked open the door. “Take that scumbag in and book him for destruction of property and run for priors.”

  “What are you going to do with David?”

  Jeremy hesitated and refused to look back at his brother. “Throw him in the cell and let him sleep it off. I’ll pick him up in the morning.”

  “Then?”

  “I’ll take care of him, one way or another.” Jeremy slid into the seat and slammed his door shut. He grabbed his mike and called in. “Dispatch, J forty-nine 10-24 and en route to the station.”

  He revved his motor and tore out of the parking lot. His anger had no focus. It bounced from his drunken brother in the backseat, to his situation at the moment, to the truth he would have to reveal to his family, to the reason this all started in the first place which came right back to his drunken brother in the backseat.

  Jeremy cursed and drove.

  Chapter 14

  MORNING HIT HIM LIKE a sledgehammer. David clutched at his stomach and rolled over. His matted eyes refused to open fully. His head pounded through the cobwebs. He managed to push to his feet and stumble to the sink. His fingers fumbled with the knob, but finally cold water splashed down into the metal basin.

  He dunked his head under the fl
ow and rinsed the foulness out of his mouth. His stomach heaved, but he fought it back. He reached for the towel hanging on the holder. It wasn’t there. He froze.

  Oh, man. He turned and surveyed his surroundings. Cot. Metal sink. Metal toilet. Bars. He wiped his face with his grimy shirt tail, made use of the toilet, and lowered his aching body to the mattress, back against the wall.

  Events from last night resurfaced. The pleasure seeking. The pain. The fight. The booze. His brother’s face. He brought his knees up and propped his forehead on crossed arms. Shame oozed over him. Now Jeremy knew his evil secret.

  His stomach turned. His head thumped. A rattle at the cell door brought his head up. He stared at the familiar face. Jeremy waited for Markston to insert the key and slide the door open.

  “Thanks,” Jeremy said to the officer.

  “No problem. Captain said to go out the side door. More privacy.”

  David watched wide-eyed, or at least as wide-eyed as he could get. They weren’t going to charge him? Jeremy propped against the bars, his ankles crossed, and regarded David for long seconds.

  David snarled, “Just get it over with.”

  Jeremy sighed and stepped into the cell, gloved hand outstretched. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

  David shrugged off his brother’s offer of help and stumbled to his feet. His head swirled about, the room tumbled, and he tipped over with it.

  Jeremy’s hands grabbed him and righted his body. “Come on, stop being a stubborn jackass. Let me at least help you out to the car.”

  David lost his willpower to fight. Again, shame descended on him. Together they stumbled out into the bright morning light. David groaned and covered his eyes. Why did God have to be so cruel? Why couldn’t it have been a cloudy day?

  Jeremy fumbled with the car’s passenger door. David eased inside. He pulled off his jacket and threw it onto the back seat. The foul odor of his shirt wafted up to his nose, and he fought another wave of nausea.

  The driver’s door opened. Jeremy slid into the seat. He started the car, and the air conditioner blasted cold air. David sighed and relaxed. That helped.

  “Here. Change your shirt.”

  David looked down at the shirt Jeremy threw in his lap. It was a plain white t-shirt, and it was clean. David peeled off his dirty one, grimaced at the smell of his body, and pulled the clean one on. This was just wrong. He felt too dirty to wear something so clean.

  Jeremy handed him a pair of sunglasses, and without a word, David slid them on. Better and better. Now he could hide behind the dark lenses. Keep the world out.

  Jeremy started to back up, but slammed the car back into park. David looked over at him. His brother stared straight ahead, muscles working in his jaw.

  “How long?”

  “What?” He turned his gaze out the passenger window and brought his hands to his stomach. It was flipping on him again.

  “You know what I mean. How long have you been like this?” Jeremy rested his hands on the steering wheel. “Baers ran you. You had two DUIs in St. Louis, David.”

  David sunk into his seat. His stomach knotted and unknotted. His heart slammed against him. “Two and a half years.”

  Jeremy sighed and shut his eyes.

  How many times was his brother going to do that? Sighing was worse than yelling, than beating the ever-loving . . . His thoughts faltered. Jeremy was disappointed in him. He pitied him.

  David snarled and turned on his brother. “I don’t–”

  Jeremy’s hand lashed out and slammed David against the car door. The quickness of Jeremy’s strike left him speechless.

  “Just shut up. I don’t want to hear it. No excuses. No nothing.” Jeremy rammed the gear into reverse and peeled out of the parking spot. The car jostled to an abrupt stop, and then they were moving forward.

  David sunk further down into his seat. Now that they were moving, even the cold air blasting on him didn’t make his stomach stop quivering.

  “And I will knock your head in if you puke in Sarah’s car.”

  David closed his eyes and leaned against the head rest. Let the world fall in on him. Let him die now.

  Jeremy drove in silence. The drone of the air conditioner filled the car. David contemplated turning on the radio, but his head couldn’t take another verbal lash. Better to let Jeremy cool a bit.

  David looked out the window. This wasn’t the way to his apartment. Within a few moments, Jack’s Express Café loomed before him. He didn’t want people around him, and his brother just brought him to the middle of the square. Jeremy shut off the car, got out, and slammed the door.

  Pain from the jolt stabbed him through his head. Jeremy could wait forever out there in the sun. He was not getting out of the car. The door jerked open, and Jeremy leaned against the car’s frame.

  He spoke slowly. A muscle twitched at his jaw. “You can buck up and get out, or I can drag you out and taser your sorry butt.”

  David got out.

  He kept his hands close to his convulsing stomach. He glanced around and sought out Maggie’s shop. She would be there tomorrow, pricing items, selling clothes. Happy little shop day.

  He grimaced as Jeremy jabbed him between his shoulder blades and sent him staggering forward.

  “Walk.”

  David walked.

  The bell above the door jingled. Jeremy nudged him farther in, this time with a gentler push. Smells assaulted him. Bacon, sausage, eggs, and coffee. Oh, Lord, help him. He couldn’t fight it this time. He turned and rushed toward the restroom, ignoring the looks from a couple of Sunday morning patrons.

  He shoved at the door, fell to his knees in the first stall, and vomited stomach acid into the toilet. The sunglasses clattered to the floor as his stomach convulsed and heaved. Tears blurred his vision, and spittle hung in strands from his lips.

  The door creaked open. Water ran in one of the sinks. His stomach dry heaved again.

  A wet brown paper towel slapped against his mouth. Jeremy knelt behind him and pulled him back into his arms. David leaned his back against his brother’s chest and gulped in air. The towel mopped his face.

  “Stop.” David grabbed the towel. “I can do it. I’m not a baby.”

  Jeremy grabbed him under his arms. David stood on wobbly knees and nonexistent feet. He staggered to the sink. His forearms against the cool porcelain held him upright.

  His brother never said a word. He just turned on the water and helped David wash his face. He gave him back the sunglasses, held the door open, and led him to a booth in the back corner of the cafe.

  David eased his sore and sick body down onto the soft, blue vinyl cushion. It wasn’t a waitress who came to the booth to take the order. Jack Niemeyer approached.

  “Morning, Jer. What’ll it be?”

  “Two coffees. Extra strong this morning, Jack. Bacon, eggs, and gravy biscuits for me. Soft scrambled eggs and toast for David.”

  Jack nodded. “I’ll see to it. Rough night?”

  Jack’s gaze burned him, but he refused to look up. His brother’s pity was one thing, but someone else’s was another.

  “Yeah. You can say that.”

  David ignored his brother and the silence that loomed between them. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Pressure pushed at his eyes.

  The bell jingled again, and Jack’s voice greeted another customer. The cafe’s sounds mingled. The cash register pinged, silverware clattered, indistinct voices murmured. The sounds collided with the drumming pulse inside his head. He had to get out!

  David pushed up out of the booth, but Jeremy’s hands clamped down on his wrists, forcing him back into the booth. “Sit.”

  His hands balled underneath his brother’s, but he sat. Jeremy let go. Two mugs of coffee appeared. When did Jack arrive?

  Jack placed a small coffee pot at the edge of the table. “Here’s the carafe. Looks like your brother could use it.”

  David jerked his head up, and the retort on the tip of his tongue slid b
ack down his throat. Jack’s face didn’t show him pity. It didn’t show him disappointment. It showed understanding.

  He swallowed past the lump. “Thanks.”

  Jack nodded and spoke to Jeremy. “Your plates will be out soon. Let me know if there is anything else you need, okay?”

  David’s hand shook as he brought the coffee to his lips. The liquid was hot, but not too hot that he couldn’t swallow. He grimaced. The drink could stand without a cup. He forced another swallow down.

  He had to admit, it did help. His stomach slowly uncoiled itself. His headache receded a bit at a time. When their plates arrived, little was said as they ate.

  Jeremy shoveled food into his mouth, while David took small bites. Fear of his stomach rebelling and puking up egg kept him eating at a slower pace. After a while, he drained his coffee cup and pushed away his plate.

  Jeremy never said a word other than to thank Jack for the breakfast and ask for more coffee. Another small pot of brew appeared. Inquisition time arrived.

  His brother set his cup down and propped on his elbows. His blue eyes pierced him. “When did you realize you had a problem?”

  David sighed and leaned back. “After my second DUI. I tried to quit.”

  “David, you and I both know you can’t do this on your own.”

  “Why do you think I came back?” David clenched and unclenched his hands as they rested on the table. “I knew if I stayed in St. Louis, I would lose myself. Or worse, kill someone the next time.”

  Jeremy shook his head. “Just coming back home doesn’t help you. You need to talk it out, go to meetings. Get professional help.”

  David threw a hard curse at his brother.

  Jeremy smirked. “I wouldn’t enjoy it, little brother. And frankly, neither would you.”

  David snarled. “If I get professional help, I will be suspended from the job.”

  “Thomas knows?”

  David pushed at his saucer. “I think he suspects, but I haven’t been drunk, per se, until last night.”

  Jeremy poured some more coffee into their cups. “What threw you over the edge last night?”