by Kristen Lamb
I didn’t know what to say, but I was happy as hell I wasn’t expected to begin work tomorrow. I needed a few days rest after all of this. And it seemed Heather was looking out for me even though she’d moved on. I wasn’t overly thrilled at living with Nana and Daddy, but at least I could mark being homeless of my current list of fears.
“Heather’s getting married?” I asked still uncertain I heard correctly.
“Yep,” Nana said. “About time. Guy’s been stringing her along forever. Didn’t want a regular wedding probably because then she’d be forced to invite us.” She grinned at Daddy.
“Told us they were eloping. Probably a quick trip to Vegas.” He sighed and his face lighted from some fond memory. “Fun town. Biggest buffets I ever seen with shrimp—”
“She eloped with Thoolen?” I asked. I didn’t know if the spinning in my head was the pain, the drugs or the bombshell news.
Daddy roared with laughter. “Thoolen? The fella who owns the resort? No, no. Though wouldn’t that be a hoot?” He laughed even harder and it made him start coughing.
“Why would you think of Thoolen?” Nana asked as if I’d made the world’s funniest joke. I could feel Sawyer’s glare, knowing I’d screwed up and let sensitive information slip.
“No reason. Someone said the owner liked her a whole lot and she is super pretty.” I rubbed my tired eyes.
Daddy grinned. I could see he was missing most of his back teeth. “That’s sweet of you to think, and yer sister is a looker. The folks at the resort love her, but a guy like Thoolen’s a bit out of her league, don’t you think?”
The comment stung, not only for Heather, but for me as well. Heather was beautiful, hardworking, and sharp. Why not a guy like Thoolen? Heather was sure better than that viper Claire Barrington and her brood.
“Then who?” I asked, confused and irritated as I massaged the sore muscles at the back of my neck. Sawyer stood in the shadows silently taking everything in.
“No clue.” Nana stubbed out her cigarette in a massive glass ashtray already overflowing with butts.
Daddy wiped the spit from his mouth with a ratty Kleenex. “Name’s Liam, or something queer like that. We ain’t never met this fella, but they’ve been hot and heavy for a few years. Talk on the phone mostly. He’s in the oil business, so gone a lot. Takes a special gal to love a roughneck.”
Nana nodded. “From what I gather, Heather was going to dump him unless he made her legit. Can’t blame her. Really.”
“Not a bit,” I said, absently rubbing my left ring finger. Everything was happening so fast and I struggled to keep pace.
Nana squeezed my arm. “Come on. Stay. I can fold out the bed for your friend here,” she said to Sawyer.
Tempting as it was, I shook my head. “I’m good. I’ll go back to my hotel. There’s a lot of weird stuff going on. Don’t want y’all in the middle of it.”
“At least come get some more clean clothes. I’ll help you.”
I lifted myself off the couch with Nana and Sawyer’s help then followed her down the short hallway, old memories gathering around me like specters. Heather’s room was neat as a pin and not much different than the last time I saw it. Still had the same posters on the wall and the same mismatched furniture from Thriftland. Her collection of stuffed animals, dusty and aged, still perched on a shelf as if waiting for the little girl who once loved them to return.
“Let me get you a grocery sack,” Nana said and left me to search through the items Heather hadn’t thought worth keeping. I opened her drawers and picked out any clothes that weren’t bedazzled when my hand hit something round and solid. I flipped on the overhead light, unable to believe what I saw.
My CD player.
“I have more if you need,” Nana said handing me the paper grocery bags. “What’s wrong, honey?” she said.
“The day I got here, when we picked you up from Meyerson—”
“Oh, that.” She stared at her feet. “I’m so sorry you had to see.”
“What exactly did you steal from the Piggle Wiggle?”
“No idea. I never know. Things show up in my purse. They say people like me don’t even know when we’re stealing.”
“They who?”
“Doctors. That’s why Heather shops with me, so she can keep an eye on me. Guess I’m faster than she can keep up with, at least that’s what she tells me.”
My mind scrambled to make sense of what I’d discovered.
Nana kept talking, unnerved by my silence, “Also why she’s on my bank account, so she can cover funds when I uh…” her tone was reedy. Humiliation flushed her cheeks. “But she’s not always able to cover my oopses in time.”
“Did you take this?” I showed her the CD player.
“Probably. I’m sorry if I did.” She stared at the floor.
“It’s fine.” I hugged her and left the bags. “I’ll do this tomorrow. Too tired right now.”
Sawyer lurked in the hallway and Nana handed him a full bottle of Vicodin as we made our way toward the door.
“We know you don’t got nowhere to stay, Romi,” my father said as he stood. “You can live with us. We start packing tomorrow, though the new place has all new furniture which’ll make moving easier.”
“New place? Tomorrow?”
Nana chuckled. “Why so shocked? This place’ll be bulldozed by the end of the week. Everyone but us has already moved and Heather got us a new trailer, so they’re upping the timeline to start construction. We need to be out in three days.”
“Oh, wow. Where you moving?”
“Outside Presidio. Lots more room,” Nana said. She scribbled down an address and handed it to me.
“Heather’s already paid for it. Triple-wide with a foundation and everything. Much nicer. Worked double shifts at that resort,” my father said. All I could think was she was working more than that, but I chastised myself for being a judgy bitch. Heather was making sure her family was okay. Who was I to say anything bad?
Nana dumped out the ashtray into a discarded Taco Bell bag and lit yet another cigarette. This place was as bad as the bar. I could barely see for all the smoke. “Your sister’s a peach. There’s enough room at the new trailer for you, too. She made sure of that. She’s sending movers over to take our stuff once we get packed.”
Daddy tightened his robe. “She’s been a real trooper.” He ran his hand through dirty hair. “I know I’m an ornery bastard. Don’t like how those pain pills make me feel, like I’m some dope head. She and I fight about that a lot.”
“We better get going,” Sawyer said to me.
My father rose from his chair. “Before you go, I got one question.” He jammed his hands in ratty pockets and stared at the floor.
“Yes? What?” I said, not really wanting to talk anymore, but I didn’t see what a couple more minutes could hurt.
“I know I’m an SOB and not the easiest to live with.”
“Okay,” I said, unsure where he was going.
Pain flickered across his face. “I can understand why you left this place, but why didn’t you ever call? I ain’t that bad, am I?”
“Huh? What? I did call. Every week, then every month. I left messages but no one ever responded.”
My dad scowled and scratched his grizzled neck. “Damn technology. Figures I’d get every message from every telemarketer in India, but nothin’ from you.”
“I called. I swear.”
He offered a weak smile and his breathing was shallow. “I know you did. Probably hit some damn wrong button.” He tugged at his ear and seemed lost.
I wondered when my father had gotten so old.
“Never could work the machine without your sister’s help,” Daddy said and stepped closer. “I missed you, Kiddo.”
I hugged him and didn’t want to let go. “I know, Daddy,” I said in his broad shoulder. “I love you.”
“You, too Romi Girl.” He let go and said to Sawyer, “You take care of my girl. If she don’t find trouble it sure fin
ds her.”
Could he just be nice without ruining it?
“Yessir,” Sawyer said and shook my dad’s hand and thanked my grandmother before helping me down the stairs. I stopped at the base and had to rest. I sank down on the bottom step, my head feeling light from the recent news.
“You all right?” Sawyer’s face was grave.
“Gimme a minute. I’m fine,” I said. I mourned Cotton that he’d chosen to save his druggie friend over a life with me. I wondered what my life would have been like had he made a different choice. Would I even be back here? In this mess?
I stared at the abandoned trailers all around, the piles of junk and metal. Could I live with two chain-smokers and not die from bronchial pneumonia? Would my father start hoarding again at the new place, too? As much as I loved my family, the thought of living with them kind of made me want to swallow the whole bottle of Vicodin. Could I take Nana’s gambling? Her sticky fingers? Her enabling? Then a thought struck me and I bolted up so fast I almost toppled over from a stabbing pain in my head.
“What are you doing?” Sawyer reached to steady me.
“Gimme your flashlight,” I said my eyes scanning the shadows.
“We need to get you back to the room. It can wait.”
“Please give me your flashlight or I’ll go ask Nana. Might take her a while to find one, though,” I said sweetly, but made it clear we weren’t going anywhere until I got my way.
Sawyer wordlessly complied. I crept through the darkness under the porch, and when I saw it, I started laughing. I stumbled out and hung off the porch railing and clasped my side, I was laughing so hard.
“What’s so funny? Vicodin hitting that fast?”
I only laughed harder, so hard it hurt and I couldn’t breathe. Thank you, God for my crazy family.
“Romi? Romi,” Sawyer said. “What’s so funny?”
“Crime of opportunity.” I pointed the beam of his mini-Mag beneath the stairs to my father’s collection of old AC units. “Call Angel. The unit’s right there.”
Chapter Seventeen
Angel arrived within fifteen minutes. I pointed to the collection of broken AC units stashed under the porch. “Hidden in plain sight,” I said. He tore open the front of the unit and there was the box.
I reached in my purse for the knife wrapped in a paper towel. “Run this, too. It probably will have Cunningham’s blood on it.”
“Where’d you get that?” Angel and Sawyer asked at the same time.
“Long story. Tito’s part of Los Espectros .” I said.
“Tito?” Angel glared at Sawyer, questions in his eyes.
I was tired, gross, and wanted sleep. “Run the tests. I’ll buy you a round if Cunningham’s DNA isn’t on that thing. It’s a harpy knife, perfect for slicing a femoral.” I glared at Sawyer. “Not one word that I watch too many movies.”
Angel shrugged and dropped the knife in a plastic bag. Sawyer gave me a stern look then Angel towed him off by the arm so they could speak in private. They had their backs to me and spoke in hushed angry tones. I couldn’t make out what they were discussing, so I rested against the grill of the Suburban and swatted away mosquitoes as they tried to light on my bare forearms and neck.
Sawyer and Angel argued for a minute, but then nodded good-byes. Sawyer returned and helped me to the Suburban. He drove out of the trailer park without saying anything, but he seemed deeply troubled.
“What’s wrong?” I held a fresh ice pack to my cheek.
“Lawyers.”
“Huh?”
After a long moment, he said, “I’m happy you found your mom’s necklace and that you had the presence of mind to collect the knife from Tito.”
“But?”
“It’s all useless,” he said, his tone bitter.
“Useless? How?”
“No way to establish a clear chain of custody. A public defender fresh out of law school could get every bit of that thrown out. None of that evidence will ever see a courtroom.”
“That was all for nothing?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Can narrow down suspects, but I guarantee you it won’t ever be admitted.”
“Wonderful.”
“Sorry.”
“Is what it is,” I said and rested my head against the window.
The next thing I knew Sawyer was guiding me into the elevator at the hotel. The nap had done me a world of good. Most of the pain was gone. I was disappointed the evidence wouldn’t be as useful as I’d hoped, but maybe they’d return the necklace to me and I could finally pass it on to Heather.
My sister was about to have a husband, finally someone to take care of her for a change. Guys in the oil field made a solid living. Daddy and Nana had a place to live, and after what Kim showed me, it seemed we might even be closing in on Phil. Life had sure been turned ass-end-up, but crazy as it sounded, my world was brighter than it had been in a long time.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked as he guided me down the plush carpeted hall of the hotel.
“Nothing much. Happy I don’t have to go to work for a few more days,” I said and stopped in front of my room.
“How you doing?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
“Pain’s gone.”
“Yes, but your family dropped a lot on you tonight.”
I shrugged. “Such is life. I wanted Cotton to run away with me. I loved him so much, but…” I let out a weary breath. “He made his choice. I wanted Heather to run away with me, too, but she didn’t. She’s a better person than me. If she’s happy, I’m happy.”
“You’re really okay?” he asked, but I could see he didn’t believe me.
“Been better. Aside from being filthy and smelling like an old ashtray? I’m good. Let me get cleaned up.”
He hesitated.
“I’m fine.” I protested. “Get a shower. We’ll talk in twenty.”
He didn’t want to leave my side, but both of us were exhausted and coated in grime.
“Gimme a break,” I said. “There’s an open door between our rooms. You can check on me if you need to.” Only then did he relax. He slipped out the electronic key and opened my door for me. He made a cursory check of my room then headed through the connecting door to his quarters.
I brushed my teeth then took a long hot shower to wash away all the stupid body glitter and cigarette smoke. I was immensely grateful hotel showers never ran out of hot water. I let the water flow over my aching muscles and a deep sadness settled over me along with the billowy clouds of steam. I thought about Heather and me as kids, planning the day we’d get married as we played Indian Princesses on the big flat rock. We’d pinky-sworn we’d be there for each other’s big day, even planned double weddings like most little girls. We’d both say our ‘ I dos’ together with our men, side-by-side on some tropical island. I’d always thought Cotton would be the one I shared my life with, because I’d loved him since third grade. But then he never came and then there was Phil.
Before I’d departed for the ill-fated Monte Carlo trip, I’d left Heather a message asking her to be my Maid of Honor, but then all hell broke loose. I’d never heard back from her, and it seemed that was one of many messages eaten by a cheap answering machine. Probably was for the best. As much as I tried to deny the ache, it still hurt me that I wouldn’t get to see my little sister walk down the aisle, even if she was marrying some West Texas roughneck at a drive-thru chapel in Vegas.
I guessed I deserved this. We’d been apart for so long, who was I to expect anything? And she’d done more than enough. Helped me get and keep my new job. Made sure I had a place to live. I forced myself to stop thinking about it. It wasn’t fair, but fair was a weather condition. I pretty much figured I was the only person over the age of twelve who still believed in the sacredness of the pinky-promise.
I toweled off then used the wall-mounted blow dryer, noting my hair was far softer after a couple days using the hotel’s shampoo and conditioner. A fresh robe hung in the small closet, and I wrapp
ed terrycloth fluffiness over the same tiny shorts, and a pink tank top my sister wore the day I arrived. I had a hard time wearing this outfit to bed and had no idea how my sister had the confidence to wear this in public.
I checked myself in the full-length mirror. My right cheek was already turning a greenish-purple and bruises were forming around my neck, but it wasn’t anything that wouldn’t heal in a week or so. I had cuts, bruises, blisters bites, and scratches all over me. Good news was the cut on my hand was healing nicely and the pills Nana gave me had blurred my pain. I could move my head. I didn’t feel doped, just felt like me, albeit a very tired, sad me.
I tapped on the door between our rooms. Sawyer answered, freshly shaved and showered, wearing a navy-blue FBI shirt and long basketball shorts. “Was about to check on you,” he said. “You better?”
“I’m good,” I said with a hint of a smile.
“Going to start calling you Timex. Takes a licking…”
“Keeps on ticking. Might fit.” I smiled. “You will probably find this shocking, but tonight was actually the first time I’ve ever been bitch-slapped.” I stuffed my hands in the heavy robe.
“Back to that alligator mouth…” he said.
“And a Pekinese ass.”
He gave a lop-sided grin and leaned in the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest.
