Melanie stared as the coffeemaker sent hot water streaming through the coffee in the filtered basket and out into the carafe. “We’ve missed you, Mama. Both of us.”
Fayrene stood next to her daughter and stared at the same sight. “I’ve missed you. Both of you. I’m sorry about the money I’ve been spending. I didn’t realize…”
Melanie frowned and looked at her mother. “How could you not realize? We’ve never had the kind of money you’ve been spending.”
Fayrene heaved a sigh. “Okay, I guess I knew that. I don’t think I cared. All I ever wanted was his attention, you know?”
“Oh, Mama.” Melanie wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulders and laid her head on her shoulder. “He loves you. He’s been so lonely without you. I wish…”
“I know, baby, I know. I wish it, too. But don’t give up on us yet. I haven’t. So, what’s this I hear about Sloan getting married?”
Melanie straightened away from her mother. “He got married last summer. Where did you hear it?”
“I have my ways. What I want to know is why you didn’t tell me yourself.”
Melanie gave her mother a wry smile and took the sugar bowl from the cabinet. “Because I didn’t want to hear what you’d have to say about it.”
“I would have said I was disappointed in you. I always had such high hopes.”
“So did I, and I have no idea why. He never gave me any reason to hope. He was always honest with me. Emily’s perfect for him. I like her.”
Fayrene took five mugs from the cabinet and lined them up on the counter. “It was smart of you to go after Caleb, then.”
“I didn’t go after Caleb,” Melanie protested. “He’s just been helping me out. We’re just friends.”
“Mmm, hmm. If you say so, baby.” she said with a big smile and wink.
“No, Mama,” Melanie said firmly. “No, no, no. Caleb and I are friends. Best friends. Just like we’ve been all our lives.”
“If you say so.”
“What are you doing?” Melanie hissed.
Fayrene’s purse had been sitting on the counter where she’d put it when she’d walked in the door that afternoon. She reached into it and pulled out a bottle of prescription medicine. She shook three capsules into her hand.
“It’s time for someone to take a nap, don’t you think?”
Melanie’s eyes bulged. The dosage on the bottle said one capsule. “Is that for George? You’ll kill him.”
“Of course I won’t.” Then she frowned. “I don’t think three will kill him. No, three won’t kill him, I’m sure they won’t. Besides, we have to counteract the caffeine, don’t we?”
“Mama.”
“Shh. Just remember, the Transylvania mug is his.”
Melanie snapped her mouth shut. Their coffee mugs were all souvenirs from vacations, rodeos, cattle-buying trips, et cetera. When Melanie was in high school they’d gone through a little town in Louisiana named Transylvania. Everything in the town, she remembered, had a bat on it. The mug they’d brought home with them was no exception. A vampire bat.
“After all,” Fayrene said, “it’s as plain as Lucy and Ethel that he’s nothing but a bloodsucker.”
“Lucy and Ethel?”
Fayrene arched her back and stuck out her chest. “Baby, when they’re this big they deserve names of their own.”
“Mama, that’s—” Melanie snickered. “That’s awful.”
“Whatever. He works for a bloodsucker, and he is a bloodsucker.”
Melanie shook her head. Her mother had always had a sly, sneaky streak. “Shame on us. You pour, I’ll serve.”
It was all Caleb could do to keep from bouncing his knee in agitation. What were Melanie and her mother doing out there in the kitchen? How the hell long did it take to brew a pot of coffee, for crying out loud?
She was safer in the kitchen. If she stayed in the kitchen. But she was just crazy enough to try something foolish. What, Caleb couldn’t imagine.
A moment later he let out a quiet breath when she walked into the living room carrying two mugs of coffee. She handed the first to him, then turned away before he could say thanks.
“George?” She crossed to the far end of the sofa where their keeper sat. “Do you want cream or sugar? We don’t have cream, but we have milk and that fake powder stuff.”
“Black’s fine. Thanks. I really appreciate y’all taking this so well.”
“No problem,” she told him. “It’s almost over, right?”
She was much too nice and accommodating, Caleb thought. She was up to something.
George blew on his coffee. “That’s right. It’s almost over.”
Melanie turned away and went back to the kitchen. She returned a moment later with her own mug of coffee, and Fayrene followed with a mug for Ralph and herself.
Caleb nearly choked at the way Fayrene squirmed her rear in those skintight jeans as she sat down between her husband and the goon. He was almost positive that she brushed her breast against George’s arm. The man nearly dropped his coffee.
“This is good,” George said a moment later when he had steadied himself. “Everybody sitting around drinking coffee. This is good. I mean, it’s not like anybody’s being kidnapped or anything. I mean, Ralph here agreed to it, said it wouldn’t be a problem. Isn’t that right, Ralph?”
Ralph gave a grunt and took a sip of his coffee.
“Sure is good coffee, Mrs. Pruitt,” George said.
“Thank you, George,” she said with a little wiggle of her rear and shoulders.
“Kind of a nutty taste to it.” He turned the mug up and drained it.
“It’s a special blend I get in Phoenix,” Fayrene told him.
Ralph looked down into his mug and frowned. “Tastes like plain ol’ c-c-c—”
Fayrene twisted on the sofa until one breast rubbed against Ralph’s arm. His words stuttered to a halt.
Caleb’s head swam. Suspicious one minute, amused the next, he didn’t know what to think or feel.
Then he was just plain stunned when George let out a small snore.
Fayrene smiled serenely and took the mug from his hand before it fell to the floor.
Ralph leaned forward to peer at George, on the other side of Fayrene. “What the hell? George?”
Fayrene patted Ralph’s knee and pushed herself up from the sofa, George’s mug in her hand. “He can’t hear you, hon. He’s sleeping like a baby.”
“What have you done?” Ralph cried. “Good God, woman, what have you done?”
Fayrene gave a toss of her head. “I’ve fixed it so I can go to the bathroom in my own home without having to ask permission. That’s what I’ve done.”
Caleb nearly bobbled his mug.
Ralph gaped openmouthed as his wife left the room, headed for the bathroom.
“What did she do to him?” Ralph demanded of Melanie.
“She put sleeping pills in his coffee.”
“Good God.” He stared at the empty doorway another moment, then looked over at George, snoozing peacefully at the opposite end of the sofa. He shook his head. “Woman always was full of surprises.”
“Okay.” Fayrene had returned from the bathroom. She stood before the others in the living room and propped her hands on her hips. “Now what?”
“Are you out of your mind?” Ralph roared.
“Probably,” she said tartly. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“How long will he be out?” Caleb asked, hoping to avoid a personal argument between husband and wife.
Fayrene shrugged. “I take one pill and I’m out for eight hours.”
“How many did you give him?” Caleb asked.
She smiled. “Three. But don’t forget the caffeine he drank. And he’s bigger than I am.”
“Any way you figure it,” Melanie offered, “he’s down for the count. Or at least until we wake him. Mama, I’m so proud of you I could pop my buttons.” She threw her arms around her mother and kissed her.
�
��Proud of her? She might have killed this man,” Ralph protested.
“Proud of her because now we can get out to that pickup and find out just what kind of merchandise has to be delivered and divvied up in the middle of the night.”
“Are you going to argue about this?” Fayrene asked her husband.
“No,” Ralph said slowly. “No, I’m not. I never bargained to have all of you held here against your will like this. I want you all to know I’m sorry about this. I have to go through with the deal to pay off my debt. But none of you should have to be involved. Truth is, I wouldn’t have gone along with it at all if they hadn’t threatened to put me in the hospital, and Melanie right along with me. But I don’t see how we’re going to do anything about it, unless you plan on drugging Little Donnie, too. And then what do we do when Bruno shows up? I owe him money. He takes money seriously.”
“Relax, Mr. Pruitt.” Caleb placed a hand on Ralph’s shoulder and squeezed. “The rest of you stay here in case Little Donnie comes up to the house for anything. I’ll slip out a back window and go check out that pickup in the pasture.”
“Now wait just a minute,” Melanie protested. “When I said we could go out there, I meant that figuratively, not literally. I’m going.”
“There’s no need for you to go traipsing around outside in the middle of the night,” Caleb claimed. “You’ll stay here. I’m going.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“You think just because you gave me the best orgasm of my life that I’ve suddenly become helpless? Or stupid? Or timid?”
“What?” Ralph bellowed. “Did you say…orgasm? As in sex?”
Fayrene fanned herself. “Oh, my.”
“Melanie,” Caleb pleaded, keeping one eye on Ralph in case the man decided to grab George’s gun and come after him.
“This time last week,” Melanie declared hotly, “when all we were was best friends, you would never have questioned my going out there. You probably would have sent me on my own.”
“I would not.”
“You damn sure wouldn’t have told me to stay in the house and keep safe, like some little idiot who can’t take care of herself.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he protested.
“That’s exactly what you meant. I used to be your friend. Now you see me as the little woman. Well, I won’t have it, do you hear me? You don’t tell me what to do, you don’t protect me, you don’t take care of my problems. You got that?”
He hated it when she was right. He was thinking of her differently. He couldn’t help it. He’d held her, kissed her. Been inside her. How could he not want to see her safe and protected?
But that was his male ego talking. Melanie, he knew, would have none of it. If he wanted to keep her friendship and stay close to her, he was going to have to respect her in the ways she required in order for her to feel respected.
“I’ve got it,” he told her. “You’re right. I’m sorry. We’ll go together.”
Melanie sneered. “Gee, thanks.”
“I don’t suppose you could come up with a couple of flashlights, could you?” He bowed from the waist and swept an arm out to his side. “That is, if you’re through being sarcastic?”
“Oh, I’ve only just begun.”
“And a big screwdriver or something to pry open the back of the camper. I’m assuming they locked it.”
With a curl of her upper lip, Melanie marched to the pantry off the kitchen and came back a moment later with two flashlights and an eighteen-inch-long screwdriver.
“You’ll need jackets,” Fayrene said.
Ralph took a couple of jackets from the coat closet and handed them out.
They looked out the kitchen window and could see Little Donnie sitting in his car puffing on a cigarette, plumes of smoke gushing from the open driver’s window.
“He’s not going anywhere,” Caleb muttered. “Let’s go.”
They left by way of the window in the den, which couldn’t be seen from the front, back or driveway. They kept their flashlights turned off and let the glow of the utility light over by the barn light their way. Keeping the house between them and Little Donnie, they made their way past the garden and into the edge of the woods.
It was quiet enough that every footfall seemed to echo through the night, but there were still enough frogs in the trees and out around the ponds, even this late in the year, to create enough noise to cover the sounds of their passage.
Once in the woods they turned on their flashlights and followed the fence line over the rise and down into the pasture. Then they cut north toward the pickup parked beneath an oak on the far side.
They stopped and turned off their flashlights. There was enough moonlight to see where they were going.
“We’re assuming there’s no one there,” Caleb said.
“Yeah.”
“You know what assuming does.”
“Yeah. It makes an ass out of u and me.”
But there was no way to sneak up on the pickup. There was nothing surrounding the tree under which it sat for a hundred yards in any direction except grass barely tall enough to hide a snake.
With no other choice, they walked openly across the pasture toward the truck filled with “goods.”
Ten feet from the pickup Caleb grabbed Melanie’s arm and put a hand over her mouth. Next to her ear he whispered, “Shh. Listen.”
Melanie tried, but her heart was pounding too loudly. She strained to hear over the thunder in her ears.
Then she heard it. “Voices.”
There were windows all around the camper shell, and of course the front and sides of the cab of the truck. Caleb and Melanie were approaching from the rear. Anyone in the camper would be able to see them.
But why would anyone be in the camper? That was where the goods, whatever they were, should be.
“Careful,” Caleb whispered.
She nodded, and they crept closer.
“What’s that smell?” she whispered. “Did something die?”
Caleb stopped and sniffed, then swore quietly. “I don’t think so. Come on.”
No shouts of alarm sounded as they neared the pickup. In fact, there was suddenly no sound at all, except, Melanie thought, the pounding of her heart.
They approached the back of the camper as quietly as possible. They checked the cab first and found it empty. They tried to see into the camper, using their flashlights, but the camper’s windows had been covered with a reflective material. If they wanted to see inside, they were going to have to open it up.
Caleb reached for the handle of the door, and Melanie held her breath. He gave a yank, but the handle was locked. He paused and listened but heard nothing. That bothered him. He had definitely heard voices earlier.
Using the screwdriver, he pried the lock free at the sides of the camper door. Then, nodding to Melanie, he gripped the handle and flung open the door.
Melanie hit the button on her flashlight, but the smell struck them in the face before the beam illuminated the interior.
What they found shocked them both to the core.
Chapter Eight
People. The camper shell was crammed with people. And from the smell of things, they’d been in there entirely too long. Days too long. The stench was unbearable.
Melanie gasped and stepped back, covering her nose and mouth with her arm.
Caleb coughed.
From inside the camper, no one made a sound. They stared out at Melanie and Caleb like terrified statues. Four women, eight men, three children under the age of ten. Each adult clutched a cloth bundle. Four clear plastic gallon jugs that perhaps once held water but now held, well, other liquid. One five-gallon bucket and a half-dozen empty toilet-paper rolls. All crammed into the small camper space like the proverbial sardines in a can.
But it was the hope on the faces, even behind the fear, that reached Melanie. A deep pity stirred inside her for the horrifying conditions.
Someone whispered, “U
na gringa.”
One man at the far end leaned forward. “¿Los Estados Unidos?”
“The U.S.?” another asked. “Are we in the United States?”
Melanie and Caleb shared a stunned look. “Yes,” Melanie answered. “Oklahoma.”
“Oklahoma? Truly? In America?”
“Yes,” Melanie told the man. “Sí. In America. Where are you from?”
“Are you police?”
“No, no,” Melanie said quickly. “No police. How…how long have you been here, in the pickup?”
“Two days,” the man answered. “We come from Sonora, in Mexico. The man, he promise us jobs. Good jobs. We work for you?”
“Oh, uh, no, not for us.”
“But we must work to pay for being brought here.”
“What do you mean?”
“We each paid the man to bring us, but the cost was so high that none of us could pay it all. We work to pay the rest.”
“Is it a lot of money?” Melanie asked.
“Sí. It is very much money. We paid five hundred U.S. dollars each, and now we work to pay the other two thousand.”
“Dollars?” Melanie squeaked.
“Sí.”
“Each?”
“Sí. We work for you now?”
“Not yet. It’s too soon. You’ve only just arrived. Why don’t you get out. If you want to.”
“Is all right? That we get out?”
“Yes, yes. Please. Get out and be comfortable.” Melanie grabbed Caleb’s arm and dragged him aside. “Jobs? The Bruno McGuire Employment Agency? I don’t think so. What’s going on? What are we going to do? He’ll find a way to use them and make their lives miserable.”
“What is this?” Caleb hissed. “For somebody who doesn’t like illegal aliens, you sound awfully concerned.”
“Oh, stuff it. These people are in trouble.”
“Maybe you’re the one who’s been running an underground railroad in the county.”
“Maybe you’ve been sniffing locoweed. Bruno’s going to turn these people into slaves.”
“I’m afraid it’s worse than that,” Caleb whispered.
“What do you mean?”
“The kids.”
The Other Brother Page 14
