by Nat Burns
“Well, let’s go find Patty,” she said. “I just hope she doesn’t shoot the messenger.”
We found Patty on the cement steps that led to the side porch. She was drinking iced tea and talking on the phone. Probably to Yolanda. She looked pretty upset.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Bone said, taking refuge behind my left shoulder. “Maybe we should wait until a better time.”
“No. Then she’d be really pissed. Trust me.”
Bone looked up at me, her eyes thoughtful. “I do,” she said softly.
I stared into her eyes and felt my world shift. I was in an earthquake, a hurricane, a solar storm, the vacuum of space. I just wanted her to keep looking at me like that. Patty broke the spell by speaking to us. She had obviously finished her phone call. “You guys looking for me?”
I gulped and moved to sit next to her. I took her hand. “Listen, Patty. I know this sounds a little crazy, but we think that there might be oil on your land.”
Patty frowned in puzzlement. “Oil?”
Bone broke in. “I did some searching and it looks like other local geology surveys have turned up some oil deposits that were released during Rita.”
“Like the quicksand and that funny smell that hangs over the land. They could be the result of oil underneath your property,” I added quickly.
Patty blinked her eyes once very slowly. “I’ll be damned. I bet that’s why nothing will grow in Southland and why that tarry stuff keeps seeping up and getting on our shoes.”
Bone looked at me and mouthed, “Southland”?
“It’s one of the names for parts of the farm,” I whispered.
“Yeah,” Patty continued. “I just thought the land was too briny to grow anything. Oil. Well, I’ll be damned.”
We sat in silence as she soaked the information in.
“Oh, my gosh,” she exclaimed suddenly. “We gotta tell John Clyde. He’ll be thrilled.”
Bone and I exchanged glances. Now came the hard part.
“Um, Pat, hon. We think he already knows,” I said softly.
She eyed me quizzically, then looked at Bone. “He knows?”
Bone spoke hastily. “We think he might. Just because of some things that have been said.”
“Like that fight with Jimmy,” Patty said, her mouth grim. Yeah, she was getting it. Patty was no dummy, not by a long shot.
“He never said a word,” she said hesitantly. “Not a word.”
Her sadness tore at my heart. I knew how it felt to be betrayed, and no matter what, I had never wished that on her. Especially by a brother, the only family she had left.
Bone spoke with the voice of reason. “Before we get too worked up about this, I think it would be a good idea to talk to John Clyde. Maybe we’re wrong.”
Patty stood, her face tight and eyes flashing with anger. “Yes, let’s just go see what Mr. John Clyde Price has to say about this.”
Patty led the way toward the house, and I widened my eyes to Bone as if to warn and prepare her for the upcoming battle.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
As we approached the house, Ammie stuck her head out from behind the screen door. “Someone here to see you, Miss Patty.” She stood back and the plump, smiling figure of Erica Nance, Megs’s best friend, filled the doorway. Erica was in her late fifties but still bore a cherubic round face that featured deep dimples in each cheek and huge blue eyes. Even her hair was styled little-girl long and still wrapped around her neck and shoulders with thick blond curls, shiny and luxurious. To further her youthful ambiance, today she was wearing jeans and a pale green sweatshirt above white athletic shoes.
Erica and Patty ran toward one another and hugged boisterously as Ammie smiled and closed the door, retreating back into the house. Erica kissed Patty on the forehead before standing back and examining her closely.
“You look like crap, darlin’,” she said in her characteristic low, husky voice. Some called her type of voice a whiskey voice, brought on by too much booze and cigarettes. Erica indulged in neither, but her deep raspy voice belied that fact. She was, however, outspoken with that voice and prone to calling a spade a spade.
Patty grimaced and tears began pouring down her face.
“Aw, sugar,” Erica soothed, pulling her inside. She looked back accusingly toward Bone and me. “What have y’all done to this child?”
We meekly followed them inside. I, for one, was grateful for the cool air that now surrounded us. Erica and Patty were sitting on the sofa, and Patty was sobbing into Erica’s shoulder. Erica held her close and patted her back, her low voice a soothing rumble in the room.
“What in the world has happened?” Erica demanded. “And who are you?” she said, eyes landing on Bone.
Before Bone or I could answer, Patty pulled back, mopping her eyes on her T-shirt sleeve. “She…she’s Bone, a friend of Landa’s. And that’s Denni, my ex, you remember her.”
“Sugar, are you all right?” Erica asked, her hands smoothing Patty’s hair away from her face. “You just let Mama Erica know what’s wrong and I’ll fix it right away,” she declared.
Patty shook her head. “I don’t think you can, this time. It’s John Clyde. We think he may be lying to us about the farm here.”
“How do you mean? Lying about what?”
Patty sighed and turned to me, eyes begging for me to explain it for her.
I cleared my throat. “Erica, it seems that…”
The front door slammed, and John Clyde burst into the sitting room, making a beeline for the bar. He spied the four of us sitting there and slowed his headlong rush. “Hen party?” he asked sarcastically.
He approached the bar and filled a crystal tumbler with several fingers of bourbon. He downed it in two gulps.
“John Clyde,” Patty said. “We need to talk…”
“Dinner’s ready, y’all,” Ammie said in the dining room doorway. Kissy came running pell-mell from behind her, but she stopped perfectly still when she saw Erica. Her mouth fell open and her eyes grew huge.
“Ricky! Ricky! You’re here,” she cried, running to Erica and climbing onto her lap. “MomPatty said you’d be here, but it’s been so long ago.”
Erica laughed and pulled the child close for a cuddle and a kiss. “You are just my sweetest little cutest darlin’ ever!” she crooned. “I peeked in at you when you were coloring. You’ve gotten so big and so grown up!”
Kissy giggled and wriggled happily in Erica’s embrace as Patty watched fondly.
“I woke Yolanda,” Ammie said. “She should be here in a minute.”
“Good. Thank you, Ammie,” Patty said. We all stood to follow Patty into the dining room just as Yolanda entered behind us. She reached and took Patty’s hand, and they shared a sweet smile.
John Clyde held out his hand to Kissy. “Come on here, Kissy. Let’s go get some dinner.”
Kissy pushed his hand away and pulled closer to Erica. “No, Uncle. Wanna stay with Ricky.”
“It’s all right, John Clyde, I’ve got her,” Erica said indulgently.
John Clyde eyed her disdainfully, then pushed past her into the dining room, almost knocking her over.
Erica’s mouth flew open even as Kissy’s thumb found her mouth and she stared after her uncle with haunted eyes. Patty’s eyes widened, and she exchanged an astonished glance with Yolanda.
“Well, I never,” Erica said.
Once we were all in the dining room, there was a moment of hesitation, and I realized suddenly that no one wanted to sit next to John Clyde and that John Clyde certainly did not want to sit next to Yolanda or Erica, maybe not even Patty.
Kissy insisted that Erica sit at the head of the table in Kissy’s usual place, then took a seat directly to Erica’s right. Patty and Yolanda were seated at her left. Bone and I took a seat next to Kissy and John Clyde sat at the other end of the table, opposite Erica.
It was a tense meal. Erica explained about the work snafu that had delayed her arrival, but after a long p
eriod of silence the only real conversation was between Patty, Yolanda and Erica as they quietly caught up on what had been happening since they’d last visited with one another. Patty also filled Erica in on all the sabotage that had been foisted upon the farm. I saw Erica’s eyes slide to John Clyde in speculation a few times—as if she were trying to place him as the perpetrator. Kissy was uncharacteristically quiet and I noted that her thumb found her mouth more often than her fork did.
John Clyde drank, a lot, even asking Ammie to bring the entire bottle of scotch to the table. He ate very little, and his brooding presence made all of us nervous. Bone and I ate quietly, eyes on our plates mostly. I don’t know about her, but I fervently wanted to be someplace else. Anywhere but here. My mind was racing, and I was thinking about all the things that had happened here at Fortune Farm. Could John Clyde have actually been responsible for all of it?
After dinner, we faced a dilemma: There was no opportunity to talk to John Clyde. Patty seemed preoccupied with Erica and getting her settled in. Yolanda took Kissy up to bathe her and get her ready for bed. John Clyde retired to the sitting room, opened a book and proceeded to fall into a drunken sleep while pretending to read it.
Bone and I ended up on our porch.
“Well, that went well,” Bone said, her lips lifting in a small smile. She lit a cigarette and blew the smoke high. She had pulled her hair back because the porch was sweltering still, and I enjoyed feasting my eyes on the sweet slope of her neck.
“I can tell the Price family is just falling over themselves with worry,” I added sarcastically.
We fell silent, serenaded by the plethora of crickets in the brush outside.
“What made you color your hair that way?” I asked.
“My beautician friend, Laura. She talked me into it. Don’t you like it?” She watched me with that calm, measuring gaze she had.
I let my feelings show in my eyes. “Oh yes,” I whispered. “I like it very much.”
Bone returned my gaze with a look that I felt deep in my body. Holding her cigarette away from us, she moved close and mounted me in the chair, her knees at my sides and her form facing me. Her unoccupied hand wrapped itself in my hair, and she bent my head back and laid her lips against mine. I trembled and gasped as an electrifying current of desire forced its way through my body, making me feel weak as a kitten. Her tongue gently licked my lips as if quietly asking permission to enter. I opened the door and welcomed that tongue inside.
A heat grew between us as the kiss lengthened. I pulled her closer, merging that heat into a supernova of desire that shook me. I suddenly knew what I had been missing in my life. I knew what I needed, what I wanted. Bone.
“Ow! Ow!” Bone cried suddenly. “The sucker burned me.” She dropped the cigarette into the ashtray and brought her fingers to her lips.
“Bone got a booboo,” she said, leaning her forehead to touch mine.
“Want me to kiss it for you?” I asked, my voice husky and low, choked with the desire I was feeling.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Kiss it for me.”
Her voice thrilled my body, and I closed my eyes and groaned. “Oh, honey, we just can’t be doing this right now. Not with John Clyde in the next room.”
She grinned devilishly. “We can be quiet.”
I groaned again and sighed. “Don’t tempt me. I’m about ready to lose it here.”
Bone took in a deep breath and her hands moved to wrap around my throat and caress my jaw. Her blue eyes bored into me, and I could see she wanted me as much as I wanted her. I laid my hands against her lean sides, enjoying the curve of her waist as it met her hips. My hand slipped past the gun holstered into the small of her back as I pulled her toward me. She pressed her lips to one corner of my mouth, and I leaned my face toward her.
“You’re so thin,” I whispered. “I feel like I would break you.”
“I’d break you first,” she whispered, again making parts of me swell with longings and imaginings.
“Go for it,” I told her, bucking gently beneath her.
“Be careful of your back! Besides, I thought you said no,” she mused, gently pecking me with little kisses over my face and neck.
“That was before.”
She leaned back, chuckling at me. “Before what?”
Surprising me, she backed off and stood in front of me. “I’m gonna come see you in Charlottesville,” she said.
“Promise?” I took her hand and pressed the palm to my lips.
“Promise,” she responded.
“I sure am glad to have stumbled across you, down here,” I said.
She studied me, her head cocked to one side. “Ditto,” she whispered. “I really like Louisiana.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
We heard a commotion behind the sitting room door and within seconds it swung open. Yolanda stuck her head through. “Have you guys seen Kissy?”
Wide-eyed, we shook our heads.
“Where was she?” I asked.
“In bed. I went down to get her book out of the TV room and she was gone. Little dickens. Probably in Erica’s room. You tell her I’m looking for her if you see her, though.”
“I will,” I said.
I looked at Bone. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Let’s go up to Erica’s room.”
We entered the sitting room and saw Patty angrily trying to rouse John Clyde.
“I’ll go check with Erica. You look around down here,” I told Bone, pressing her hand. She nodded and I took the stairs two steps at a time.
I was familiar with the upstairs of the Price home. I knew which rooms belonged to Patty and Yolanda, to Kissy and to John Clyde, but I wasn’t sure which of the guest rooms Bone and Erica were staying in. I had a hunch and tapped gently against Dodson and Megs’s old bedroom. Sure enough, a voice came from inside bidding me enter.
Erica was sitting on the bed, in her nightclothes, looking at an old photo album.
“Denni, come look at this. Patty was so cute when she was little.”
I walked closer and politely looked. “That she was,” I agreed. “Still is. Hey, is Kissy in here with you?”
I didn’t want to alarm her, but I could feel the tightness in my voice. She must have heard it. She lifted her eyes and examined my face. “No, I haven’t seen her since bath time when I went in to get a goodnight kiss.”
“Oh, okay. The little scamp escaped Landa so we’re looking for her. Let us know if you see her.”
Erica set the book aside. “I’ll help, Denni.” She shrugged into her robe and followed me out of the room.
“I’ll start over here,” I said. “Can you start with Patty’s room?”
Erica nodded.
I tapped on John Clyde’s bedroom door and then entered. His was a typical man’s bedroom, with heavy dark furniture and deep, rich colors. I passed through into his bathroom and peered into the shower area. “Kissy? Are you in here, baby? You’re scaring us a bit and you need to come out now,” I said lightly. “Kissy?”
I noticed that the sound of the crickets seemed mighty loud and finally realized that he’d left one side of his French doors open.
“Like mosquitoes much?” I said as I stuck my head out looking for Kissy. There was a small balcony outside his room with no place for anyone to hide. I slid the door most of the way closed, just to make the invasion of a flying vampire horde less likely.
I moved back into the hall and tapped on the next door. There was no answer, so I opened it cautiously and went in. It was Bone’s room, one furnished in light pine and with a floral bedspread. I recognized the distressed jeans and short T-shirt that she had worn the day before. I picked the items up off the back of the Queen Anne chair to the right of the bed and pressed my face into them. I inhaled her distinctive fruit and tobacco smell.
Kissy, I reminded myself. Find Kissy.
Reluctantly, I replaced the clothing and patrolled the room. I checked the bathroom, absently caressing the long nightshirt hanging on th
e back of the door. I looked with some curiosity over her cosmetics and toiletries, poking at the stuffed hoodoo doll she’d probably bought as a souvenir when she’d ducked in Petit Mal while in Brethren. I looked in the shower area and then moved back into the bedroom. I checked under the bed because it was exceptionally high and opened the wardrobe where she had hung a jacket and placed a pair of boots. There was no sign of Kissy.
Sighing, I left the room and ran into Erica as she came out of Patty’s room. I eyed her questioningly, and she shook her head, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. We went into the bathroom together, a bathroom still muggy and damp from Kissy’s bath. Her toys, a bedraggled Barbie, some plastic rings, a faded yellow and red duck and some kind of cell telephone toy with bright buttons lay drying on the side of the tub. A sob escaped Erica, and I quickly ushered her out and down the hall, pausing briefly to peek into a shallow linen closet.
Downstairs, I met Patty’s hopeful gaze. I shook my head and watched as tears welled in her eyes. Yolanda drew her close.
John Clyde scowled and moved into the front hall. “Katherine Grace Price!” he bellowed. “You’d better come here right this minute!”
We heard no giggle, no call, only an uncomfortable silence. I endured it as long as I could.
“John Clyde. Did you leave your French doors open?”
He scowled at me. “Of course not. Do I look stupid?”
“Oh, hell,” I muttered, taking out my phone. I had entered Officer Seychelles’s cell number in earlier in the week and I pressed the call button now. Bone was holding a tearful Ammie, and Patty and Yolanda were clinging to Erica.
He answered on the third ring. “Miss Hope?”
“I’m sorry for bothering you this late, Officer…Buster, but Kissy, the little Price girl has gone missing. We can’t find her anywhere, and there was a balcony door open. I…we think it looks a little suspicious.”
Seychelles didn’t even hesitate, something I was keenly grateful for. “I’ll be right there, Miss Hope, and I’ll send a patrol car over right away. Keep looking and let me know if she turns up.”
