“Shut up!” he yelled. That was when she got scared. Very scared. After all, this man was a desperate kidnapper, and what had she been thinking about, letting Sam and Mickey talk her into this in the first place, not to mention her being with him in the altogether. He was so mad he was sputtering: “Why are you…what is this…diamonds?”
Oh. So she told him, with his hands still on her neck, told him the hooey about Loydell having found the biggest triple-A quality diamond ever in the history of Murfreesboro, and that was saying some, because they’d found some big ones.
At that, Doc let her drop. He stood back and grinned that wolfy grin. And then he said, lowering his eyes, “Bigger than those?”
Which was a stupid question, but she knew what he meant. So she let him take her hand and lead her over to the Mercury and into the back seat, all the while thinking: Sam wasn’t so smart, and she was going to figure out what Sam and Mickey were up to. For one thing, Jinx didn’t believe for a minute Mickey was a private investigator, but Mickey was nice to her and furthermore the prettiest woman Jinx had ever seen, aside from herself, of course. But Jinx was sick and tired of being treated like she was some kind of blond joke.
*
“Anybody coming, Lateesha?” Sam was sweating all over her cellular phone. She and Mickey were taking a break from searching the big stone house. They were standing in the kitchen taking turns drinking cold water out of the faucet, being super careful to leave no traces.
“Nope. Not a peep,” said Lateesha. “Y’all find it yet?”
“We’ve about given up. Doc must have it on him. I’ll check back with you in a few.” Then Sam dialed Early. He answered on the first ring. She said, “How’s it going?”
“Well, it’s interesting.”
“Is Jinx still with him?”
“She’s with him, all right.”
“You sound strange. What are they doing?” Sam waved Mickey over to listen, too.
“It’s kind of hard to describe.”
“She’s banging him, isn’t she, Early?” said Mickey.
“Uh-huh.” Early sounded like he wasn’t really paying attention to them, which he wasn’t.
Mickey hung up, then turned to Sam, “See? I told you she was a natural.”
“That’s just great. But we still don’t have the diamond.”
The two women plopped down on stools facing one another. Mickey said, “Patience, my friend. Patience.”
“It’s never been one of my long suits.”
“I’d never have guessed. Okay, if it’s not here.…”
“Maybe it’s in the car.”
“Could be. But I doubt it. Doesn’t feel right. It’s not going to be in something that somebody else could just get in and drive away.”
“So you think he carries it on him? Wouldn’t you know that? Wouldn’t Jinx see that?”
“No, I already told you. It’s not a piece of jewelry. It’s unset.”
“I know. I was just reaching. If it’s not here, at least we think it’s not here, and it’s not in his car, and it’s not on his body, then what does that leave?” They sat and stared at one another. Then Sam said, “You must have thought about this a million times. Now, it can’t be in his clothing, unless he wears the same clothes every—”
Mickey jumped straight up off her chair. “Jesus, I’ve been so stupid! What have I been thinking?”
32
“IT WAS ROBBERY is what it was,” Archie said to Tate, who was standing behind his bar, and Cynthia who was carrying a tray full of Buds. “Robbery gone sour, plain and simple.”
Cynthia turned on her heel and marched away.
“Now, darlin’,” said Archie, following right in behind her. “I think you ought to face it. That Bobby Adair’s just as rotten as I always said he was. Killed his own grandma over the money in her cashbox, well, I’d say that’s pretty low. Even for white trash.”
At that, Cynthia stopped. She pivoted like she was doing some routine she’d learned in step aerobics class and stared straight into her daddy’s piggy little eyes. “Excuse me?”
“Yep. Wuddn’t even but about three hundred dollars. That’s what Olive kept in that box. About three hundred dollars. Idn’t that a shame, boy’d kill his own grandma for that?”
“Did you say white trash?”
Archie shifted his weight and settled back into himself, hitching up his pants. “You know, sister, now that we’ve done gone and proved that that boy is the homo-cidal maniac that I always said he was, I’d think you’d be studying on using a more respectful tone with your daddy. Yep. Maybe even apologizing. Saying you’re sorry and begging to be let to move back home.”
Cynthia’s big brown eyes became fiery little slits.
“What do you think you are? What do you think I am? Have you rewritten our family history so that suddenly we are no longer the descendants of generations of sharecroppers from the Delta?” Cynthia jerked her thumb in a generally easterly direction toward the Mississippi and the part of Arkansas where cotton was still grown. “And if sharecroppers aren’t white trash, then I don’t know what is, except we had the honor to also have some Cherokee blood, have you forgotten that, Daddy Dearest? A fact that I am proud as heck of, though you always thought it was the same as being black, which is what everybody else around here thinks.”
“I don’t,” said Tate, polishing his bar. “Never did once confuse myself with any Native Americans.”
Archie turned and was about to give Tate a piece of his mingy little mind, when he took note of the fact that Tate held a wet rag in one hand and a baseball bat in the other, and maybe he could shoot him first, but then again maybe he couldn’t.
“Excuse me, Tate. No offense intended, but you know what I mean,” Cynthia said.
“Yes, I do.” He nodded.
“Tate,” said Archie. “I’d appreciate it if you’d just keep out of this.”
Tate was very tempted to tell Archie that he’d appreciate it if Archie would get his fat butt out of his bar and never come back because, frankly, in addition to his own paternal fondness for Cynthia, he thought Archie stunk up the place.
But then Archie made the mistake of saying what was really on his mind. He started, “Anyway, well, I was thinking, and…” Then he shifted his weight again and did this funny little motion like maybe he had ants in his pants. Or maybe he was embarrassed, which would be a signpost of his humanity, the first that Cynthia had ever seen.
“What do you want, Archie?” she asked, still holding the beers. Cynthia had developed considerable upper body strength working in Tate’s, and she was giving serious consideration to using some of it on her father right now. Jesus, she wished there were some way she could prove he wasn’t really related to her, that there had been some kind of terrible mix-up at the hospital, when he said, “Well, what I wondered, I’ve been looking all over town, and I haven’t seen hide nor hair of her, is, well, do either of you know where I could find that cute Bobbie Sue? You know, that frisky blonde I met in here yesterday? Tate, you were talking with Early Trulove when she came in.…”
It was then that the phone rang, and it was Sam saying she and Mickey were over at Loydell’s, Jinx had called with Doc’s plan, and they’d just about worked out the last few details of this thing and wanted to tell her her part.
Cynthia nodded, Uh-huh, uh-huh, while Tate said, “Well, sure, Archie, if you want to leave me your number, I think I can put you and Bobbie Sue together.”
33
“YOU’RE A GOOD girl, Pearl.” Sam gave the hound a final pat on the head as she and Jack turned to leave Bobby in the gym above Bubbles.
“I do trust you,” said Bobby, “but I don’t understand what makes you think it’s going to be safe for me to come down.”
“Later,” said Sam, meaning that’s when she’d explain. Right now, she needed to get moving.
“How much later? Pearl and I are going crazy up here.”
Owwwrhuuuuuu, said Pearl by way of reinforceme
nt.
“We have to work a few things out,” said Jack.
“Do you know who killed Mamaw? You better not, and not tell me. I’m warning you,” said Bobby, shaking a finger in Jack’s face. Olive’s death had pushed him beyond politeness. This, Sam suspected, was more what the old Bobby was like, the Bobby who’d beaned Archie with his shooting trophy.
“No, we don’t,” lied Sam. “Don’t you think we’d tell you if we did?” She wasn’t sure exactly what she thought Bobby would do if he knew about Doc, but she didn’t want to find out. Bobby could just cool his heels a little longer, until Doc was safely behind bars.
“Okay, okay,” said Bobby. “I’m sure you’re doing the best you can to protect me here. Keep me out of trouble with the parole board.”
Oh, son, thought Sam, if you only knew. The parole board was small potatoes compared to the manhunt that Archie was amassing to find his young butt. The last they’d heard, Archie was inflaming the local boys and the state troopers with tales of grandmother-raping in addition to robbing and killing. There were no depths to which the man wouldn’t stoop. But just you wait, Archie Blackshears. Just you wait ’til this whole thing is over, and those old boys get an earful of you loving up to Bobby “Bobbie Sue” Adair.
Now Jack was tapping on his watch. “Come on, Sammy, we’d better scoot. We’ll be right back to you, Bobby, as soon as we can.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“You’ve got everything you need? You’re not about to starve to death?”
“No, sir. You’ve got yourself some wonderful cooks, I’ll tell you that. I’m pounding away four or five hours on the speedball, the bag, working it off.” He paused. “And it keeps my mind off Mamaw.”
Sam gave him a hug, a Keep the faith, and started out. Jack shut the gym door and locked it, then caught up with her on the landing. “Wait.” He took her by the arm and pulled her around. It was a small landing. “Sammy, I’ve been giving it some consideration, and I think you’ve been right all along. Look, we’ll just call the cops, tell them about Doc, hope for the best. Hell, I’m sure there’s some physical evidence at Olive’s place, they’ll be able to pin this on Doc without Mickey’s testimony.” He put both hands behind her waist and drew her closer. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”
“The same thing you were doing day before yesterday, Jack. Serving great eats in Bubbles, ripping off the suckers downstairs in the casino.”
“Lady,” he said, “we don’t rip off anybody. Fools come in the casino, they know the odds are against ’em, want to have a little fun giving us their money, what can we do? Though, you know, it’s funny, since the second I met you, the take in the casino has doubled.” And that was the truth. Jack couldn’t explain it, unless Sam was some kind of good luck charm working for him, which was the kind of thing the suckers believed. Jack didn’t like to think of himself as a sucker. Then his voice grew tender. “Is this what they call love at first sight?”
“Lust, Jack. They call it lust. It’s the thing you’ve spent your whole life confusing with the other thing.”
“The other thing? You can’t even say the word.”
“I most certainly can, and furthermore, I’ve experienced it many times.”
“Experienced what?”
“Listen, I am not going to continue this ridiculous conversation with you another second. I’ve got to get out to the front and watch for Doc. Is your man in place?”
“He’s there, Sammy. He’s there. Now, look.”
“You’re sure he knows what he’s doing?”
“Jethro is the best in the business. He’s worked for Joey the Horse for years. I told you, I called Joey, he flew Jethro up in his own plane. He’s here, he’s ready, and he’s good. But I still think we ought to call it all off. I have a bad feeling about this thing. I really do.”
“Jack, this was your idea, and we’re doing it.”
He took a deep breath. “I’ll never understand as long as I live.”
“Understand what? Women? It’s easy, Jack. All you have to remember is we’re these inscrutable, yet cute, deerlike creatures who are motivated by whims and estrogen and flights of fancy that no man could ever begin to decipher.”
“God, give me strength,” he murmured.
“God has nothing to do with it. This is what you wanted to do, Jack. You.” She poked him twice in the chest. “And now you want to change your mind. Well, that’s the sort of thing they accuse women of, you know that, don’t you? Can’t trust them in positions of power because they’re always wishy-washing all over the place. Well, you’re the one wishy-washing here, my man.”
“Jesus H. Christ, Samantha! I’m trying to tell you I love you.”
“You do not love me. You don’t even know me.”
He gave her a look.
“One night in the sack does not constitute knowing even if it was a very nice night.” She paused. “A very very nice night. However”—and she held up one cautionary finger—“not only do you not know me, you do not want to know me. I am strong-willed, irreverent, mouthy, and independent as heck; whereas you are a traditional, macho Irish gangster who needs some bimbo on your arm for show and a sweet-faced little Bridget home in the kitchen. And I am neither of those.” She paused. “Though I must say that the fact that you’re not at all uptight about sex surprised me, given that Blessed Virgin/whore stuff you all carry around.”
Whereupon Jack placed one hand on each of her shoulders, pushed her against the wall, and kissed the bejesus out of her. Jack was one of the all-time world-class kissers, and he kissed her and kissed her and kissed her until she was actually seeing stars and thought she was going to faint.
When they finally came up for air, he said, “So, who’s the guy back in New Orleans, Sammy?”
She was going to say, Nobody. She was sure that’s what she was going to say, but her eyes slid, and she hesitated just a second too long.
“Oh, shit.” Jack turned his head, but not before she caught the pain in his eyes. It looked like the real thing.
34
DOC’S PLAN. FIRST, he and Jinx would run a variation of the priest and the jeweler scam on Loydell and nab her diamond. Then he’d leave Jinx in his car with the motor running, and he’d dash into Jack’s restaurant, pop Jack, take off, ditch the beauty queen, be on his merry way to the South Carolina coast, a very cushy retirement, and sweet dreams.
To that end, he and Jinx were cruising Central, searching for a parking spot. Headed down from the big hotels, they tooled along Bathhouse Row.
“There’s the Quapaw.” Jinx pointed. “Bubbles is on the main floor. The casino’s in the basement.”
Doc stared across the street at the long white stucco building. Big mullioned windows with blue awnings marched across the length of the front. Above the red tile roof of the second story was perched a gold and blue dome stately enough for Kubla Khan.
“You made the reservation?”
“Yes,” Jinx said. “Exactly like you told me to. I said I was bringing in a high roller from San Antonio who specifically wanted to meet Jack. They said he’d be there. But I don’t understand.…”
“And you don’t need to.”
There it was again. Boy, she had had just about a bellyful of that dumb blonde routine.
“And you know exactly how the flimflam works?”
“You told me forty-two times.”
“Yeah? Well, I could tell you a thousand and forty-two, you’re an amateur, there’s every chance you’re gonna screw up.”
“I’m not going to screw up.”
“Well, you do, you’re never going to see that bridegroom of yours alive again.”
“I’ve got it, Doc.” Then she pointed. “Look! There’s somebody pulling out.”
That, thought Doc, was a piece of luck. A good omen. Just as they approached, a red Cadillac driven by a man wearing a huge cowboy hat, that’s all you could see of him, was exiting a spot right across the street from Jack
’s restaurant.
Early’s timing was impeccable, but then, as Jack said, that’s why he paid him the big bucks.
“And Mother’s house is right around the corner and up the hill on Exchange,” said Jinx.
They climbed out of the Mercury, and Doc locked it. He passed on feeding the parking meter.
“You’re going to get a ticket,” Jinx said, adjusting her little pink shorts suit with the yellow daisy trim. She was wearing matching pink stiletto sandals with daisies on the toes. She’d redone her manicure and pedicure to match.
Doc just gave her a look. Then he took her arm as they started down the sidewalk past a row of art galleries, souvenir stores, and coffee shops. “You think you can do this? You understand about the bank?”
“Yes, I understand, Doc.”
Doc wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure she could pull this off at all. But what the hell? What did he have to lose? If the scam fell apart, he’d just do Jack, climb back in the Mercury, and ride ride ride. Of course, he’d have to switch the Mercury pretty quick for another car, which was a shame because he liked the glide of the big boat. It reminded him of those great gas guzzlers from the late fifties, early sixties. He’d had a two-tone purple Bonneville, those loooong tailfins and acres of chrome. Now, that was a car. Like the Sunliner, which was less luxe, though still a beauty. It was a shame, that old sweetie sitting at the bottom of a lake, but them was the breaks.
“Well, hi!” Jinx said suddenly. “How’re yeeeew?”
Doc looked up, and Jinx was hugging a tall, curly-headed brunette, he’d put her in her late thirties. She was dressed like him, in khakis, with a white shirt—though she was wearing an expensive-looking blue-and-white seersucker jacket, and Doc was sporting an off-the-rack navy blazer and an ugly red-and-navy tie. The brunette was saying, “Why, I’m just fine. But how are yew?”
He Was Her Man Page 24
