Red Dirt Blues

by David K. Wilson

  Mama immediately softened. She laid the dress out on the bed to give her something to do.

  “So what is it he wants to do?”

  Jade told Mama about the deep-sea charter in Florida and how it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get in on. She even suggested that it could be very lucrative and could set Mama and Pauline up really nice. Mama listened, remaining expressionless throughout the entire pitch. When Jade was finished, she just nodded and turned for the door.

  “We need to leave in twenty minutes,” she said, not even acknowledging what Jade had told her. “So, no lollygagging.”

  52

  Sheriff McKinley sat at the counter of Perty’s while Agent Bennet paced outside on his phone. The sheriff had filled the FBI agent in on the suspicious new girlfriend that had shown up in town. There were no matches to the fingerprint he had lifted from the figurine, but all that meant was that Jen wasn’t in the system. Or Jade, as the agent had called her. He had shown the sheriff the fuzzy picture from the Russian hotel but there was nothing about it that matched the blonde woman supposedly from Dallas. Still, the thought of an international jewel thief in his county excited the sheriff. Other than an occasional drunk and disorderly or domestic squabble, there wasn’t that much crime in Red Dirt. He was having a hard time believing Clyde was some sort of international smuggler. With ties to the Russian mob, no less.

  Dean was yelling so loudly into his phone that the sheriff could hear him inside.

  “How did they lose them?”

  He had called Agent Chin, who had been keeping tabs on Viktor Petrov and the twins, only to find out that they had given local agents the slip.

  “What do you mean low priority?” he went on. “Yes, I’m sure they’re heading here. Jade’s been here, Kevin. And if she’s here, then it’s where Viktor Petrov is heading… No, I haven’t seen her. But the local sheriff has… No, I can’t prove it’s her but who else could it be?…How long?…Just, please. Do your best.”

  Dean hung up his phone and walked back inside, where the bemused sheriff was waiting.

  “That didn’t seem to go well,” the sheriff said.

  “So where is Jade now?” Dean asked.

  “She stayed the night at Lucille Philpot’s place,” the sheriff said. “I escorted her there myself.”

  “Oh my God,” Dean said. “That poor family.”

  The sheriff raised his hand to calm him.

  “Everyone’s fine. I checked on ‘em this morning and she was already gone. Took off with Lucille’s son, Randy.”

  A waitress appeared in front of the men with two slices of pie.

  “Oh, I didn’t order anything,” Dean said.

  “Trust me,” the sheriff replied, nodding to the waitress to set them down.

  “Are you saying she’s taken a hostage?” Dean asked.

  The sheriff chuckled. “Mama, that’s what everybody calls Lucille, said she caught ‘em sleeping out in the yard this morning. Cozy as can be. Next thing she knew, they drove off somewhere.”

  “You know where they went?” Dean asked.

  “No, but don’t worry. Randy ain’t gonna run out on his mama. Not today, for sure.”

  “You don’t know Jade,” Dean replied.

  “You don’t know Mama,” the sheriff smiled. “I suggest we just hang tight here. I got a pretty good idea where they’re gonna wind up.”

  He motioned out the window toward the First Baptist Church. Cars were already starting to pull into the parking lot for Clyde Philpot’s funeral service.

  Dean looked at the church as he took a bite of pie.

  “Oh my God,” he exclaimed, spinning around to face the sheriff. “This pie is delicious!”

  The sheriff nodded and watched the FBI agent devour the rest of the pie. Over the course of the next half hour, the two men sat and waited. From their vantage point, they could see everyone that entered the church. Dean ordered a second slice of pie and the sheriff introduced him to some of the other patrons in the restaurant. The FBI agent was immediately taken in by their Southern hospitality. He started asking questions about their lives. The community. The more he learned, the more he became enamored with Red Dirt. He became so wrapped up in his conversations that he almost missed the arrival of Randy’s truck.

  The sheriff nudged him and pointed to it. Dean watched as the foursome exited the truck. When the blonde woman in the odd black dress slid out of the passenger seat, he caught his breath. She didn’t look anything like any of the other pictures. But he knew. He had finally found Jade.

  53

  The church was packed, every wooden pew filled with the residents of Red Dirt and neighboring communities. As the owner and sole employee of The Lazy Goat, Clyde Philpot was well-known in the area. Plus, a funeral was as big of a social event as you’d get in Red Dirt. Most everyone jumped at the chance to dress up and pay their respects. Everyone else showed up because they were afraid of what Mama would do to them if they didn’t.

  Mama’s friends from Perty’s restaurant were there, trading gossip and passing judgement on everyone that entered the church. Amy Jo had cleaned up as well as she could, but makeup could only cover up a hangover so much. She sat beside her friend Suzy, who seemed to have “grieved” just as hard the night before. Pooter and Eunice Carter from the hardware store were there. They had closed shop for the afternoon in honor of Clyde. It wasn’t that huge of a gesture, considering all of their customers were also at the funeral. Even Stonewall and Toby sat respectfully in one of the back pews.

  The early afternoon sun shone through one of the two stained glass windows, creating a rainbow mosaic of colors on the large cross that hung on the wall behind the alter. Two large fake ferns sat in tall stands on either side of the cross, one of them half concealing the church organ. In front of all of it was the preacher’s podium and in front of the podium was Clyde’s casket. It was half open, and Clyde was sleeping peacefully in a light blue suit, his hair uncharacterically combed and styled. It was probably the most presentable he’d ever looked. Fortunately, the bottom half of the casket remained closed, so Mama would never know he still wasn’t wearing any shoes.

  Everyone waited in respectful anticipation and the only sounds were quiet murmurs punctuated by an occasional cough. Mama had requested that the family be seated last, brought in like at a wedding procession. It was something she had seen at her Cousin Judith’s funeral and she liked everything about it. It not only gave her the sympathetic attention she felt she deserved, but it also was the perfect vantage point for her to see who all had shown up. Or, more importantly, who hadn’t.

  There had been a small pre-funeral argument between Amy Jo and Mama. Amy Jo felt she should be part of the immediate family promenade, having been Clyde’s wife. But Mama wasn’t having it. She told Amy Jo that she had lost that privilege when she divorced her son. Amy Jo countered with the argument that it was Clyde who filed for divorce, to which Mama reminded the hungover blonde that he did that because she had up and run off with the bass player of a visiting country band.

  “He weren’t even the singer!” Mama had yelled.

  Amy Jo had finally backed down after negotiating the chance to deliver a short eulogy during the service. Mama had given her four minutes.

  With that settled and everyone seated, the family waited in the back of the church for their cue. As self-concious as Jade was in her outfit, she was easily—and purposefully—upstaged by Mama, who was wearing a long black dress with billowy chiffon lace sleeves and whose silver hair had been styled into a wavy bouffant that somehow defied all laws of gravity. Pauline was dressed surprisingly out of character in a simple black pant suit. Other than her still-askew auburn wig and bright red lipstick, she almost looked normal. Jade also couldn’t help but take notice of Randy. Showered, shaved and dressed in a black suit, she realized for the first time how handsome he really was.

  It had been decided that Jade and Pauline would walk in together, followed by Randy and his mother. As the
organist played the first familiar notes of Amazing Grace, the two women linked arms and began the procession. Pauline, happy to get out of the house, waved at people she knew as if she were in a parade. Jade scoured the crowd, looking for goat pendants. Spotting one on a necklace of an elderly woman sitting by the aisle, Jade faked a stumble and grabbed the woman to catch her balance, ripping off the pendant in the process. She quickly realized it had no red dot and handed it back to the woman, apologizing for her clumsiness. Pauline began to cackle hysterically, and Jade continued the walk to the front of the church. It was a stupid move and she immediately regretted it. She had gambled on the first goat she saw and had accomplished nothing more than drawing extra attention to herself.

  Luckily, Mama made sure everyone’s attention quicky shifted to her. She entered on Randy’s arm, sobbing just loud enough for everyone to hear, nodding sad hellos at her friends and making mental notes of who all was there and what they were wearing.

  Not that her sadness was an act. If anything, the funeral had brought the reality of the situation down on her. She was burying her oldest son. He wasn’t a golden child by any stretch of the imagination, but he was her firstborn. She was always entertained by his wild dreams and ambitions and loved being able to be there for him when he regularly fell short of them. He was a charmer that doted on his mother and always found a way to make her laugh. He had also been the son that stuck around. Randy had gone off to college for a while, but Clyde had stayed right by his mother’s side through thick and thin. In fact, Mama couldn’t remember him ever being away more than a couple of days. And now he was gone forever.

  Randy slid in the pew and helped his mother sit down before sitting down next to Jade. They listened quietly, looking at Clyde laying in rest before them as the organist finished the gospel hymn. People rustled and stirred in their seats, preparing for the service. No one really noticed the FBI agent and local sheriff slip in and take a spot standing against the back wall.

  Once silence fell on the room, Pastor McCoy, an old frail man who easily in his late 80s, shuffled solemnly — and slowly — to the podium.

  54

  Pastor McCoy leaned on the pulpit and looked across the congregation with what Jade first thought was a scornful gaze, as if he was personally damning every person in his church to hell. She soon realized that was just his normal expression.

  A preacher with resting judgement face, Jade thought to herself with a slight smile.

  As if he sensed her amusement, the pastor turned to look directly at her, and Jade looked down in shame. There’s something about a preacher behind a pulpit that can trigger guilt in even the most guiltless.

  Pastor McCoy lowered his head and shut his eyes in what Jade assumed was the beginning of a silent prayer. With everyone’s head bowed, she would be able to look around the crowd for more goat pendants. But everyone seemed to watch the pastor patiently.

  He’s not praying, Jade realized. He’s gathering his thoughts. Or taking a short nap.

  Finally, he raised his head slowly and began to speak. For having such a feeble, old body, his voice was surprisingly deep and authoritative.

  “I ain’t gonna put lipstick on a pig,” the pastor said. “Clyde Philpot was a man with many faults and a lifelong struggle with temptation. But the Good Lord knows that, underneath it all, he was a God-fearing man. And I can say with righteous confidence that, right now, Clyde Philpot is sitting up in heaven playing a game of Texas Hold’em with the angels. I just pray he don’t cheat.”

  A murmur of laughter spread through the congregation. The preacher continued, his eulogy singularly seeming to focus on reassuring everyone that Clyde hadn’t gone to hell. Finally, he asked everyone to stand and bow their heads. As he began to pray, Jade seized the opportunity to look around. It was hard to see everyone from her vantage point, but she could make out what seemed to be goat pendants hanging around the necks of several women. She made a mental note of each of them. Where they were sitting. Who was sitting with them. When the funeral was over, she would have to act fast to check them all before they left.

  Jade craned her neck to see a little better and locked eyes with a ten-year-old boy who had also chosen to ignore the pastor’s directions. They stared at each other and the kid smirked, as if to acknowledge their joint membership in a secret club. Then Jade noticed someone else looking directly at her. From his white, short-sleeved dress shirt and black slacks, she immediately tagged him as a fed. She turned back around, trying to process this kink in her plan. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe he just lived here. Or maybe he knew Clyde from his many brushes with the law. But she knew what was most likely. What made the most sense. The FBI was investigating Clyde’s involvement with stolen jewelry trafficking. Regardless, it was a complication that Jade would have to account for.

  Then something else caught her attention. Mama was holding something white. She clutched it tight so it was hard to be sure, but Jade felt pretty confident it was a goat. She barely noticed as the pastor signaled the end of his prayer with a solemn “amen” which was then echoed by a very unenthusiastic amen from the congregation.

  Jade elbowed Randy and nodded toward the object in Mama’s hand. A look of panic shot over his face as he realized what she was holding.

  The pastor had paused again. Jade wasn’t sure if it was for effect or if he was actually saving up energy to speak, which he finally did.

  “Clyde’s wife,” he finally said.

  “EX-wife!” Mama corrected loudly.

  “Clyde’s ex-wife, Amy Jo Billings, would now like to share a few precious memories with us.”

  Mama shook her head in silent protest. Even though she had agreed to it, she had no intention of showing her approval of Amy Jo’s involvement. Randy patted her hand to calm her, and also get a better look at the porcelain object in her hand. She nervously played with it, giving Jade the opportunity to get a better look. There was no red dot.

  Disappointed yet again, she turned her attention to Amy Jo, who was walking slowly from her seat to the front of the church. She paused at the single step leading up to the podium as if it were a mountain and a tall man sitting near her stood and assisted her to the podium. Jade could tell Amy Jo was acting half out of overdramatic grief, partly because she was still visibly drunk, but mainly because she could barely walk in her skintight, extremely short red dress and matching stiletto heels.

  She was also wearing a goat pendant.

  55

  Everyone in Red Dirt was at Clyde’s funeral. So, when three well-dressed but very sweaty men trudged into town by foot, there was no one around to notice them.

  Viktor Petrov walked tall and proud, showing no sign he had just walked five miles in the Texas heat, other than a dress shirt completely drenched in sweat. He was even still wearing his tie, although he had finally loosened it a bit.

  Peter and Leo were not hiding their discomfort nearly as well. Both men had tossed their ties miles ago. Peter had attempted to maintain a strand of decorum to match his boss’s, but he was three times as sweaty, and his shirt was unbuttoned down to his navel. Leo didn’t even try to care. He had untucked his shirt somewhere along the way and even unbuttoned it, revealing a particularly hairy chest. A newly formed blister had formed on his foot causing him to limp and wince with every step.

  The three Russians took curious note of the silence as they walked through The Lazy Goat parking lot. Looking around, Viktor pointed to the packed church parking lot located on the far side of the intersection from them.

  “The Texans,” he said. “They love their church. They call this part of America the Bible Belt.”

  “This must be the buckle,” Peter mumbled, trying to catch his breath.

  The men looked inside the store windows and, when they felt confident the building was empty, Leo kicked the door in. The three men were hit by a blast of cool, air-conditioned air and they stood in the doorway, bathing in the sweet relief. Shutting the door, and the sweltering heat, behind them,
they took in the disaster of the ransacked showroom.

  “Why would one store have so much goat?” Peter asked.

  “We are too late,” Viktor grumbled. “She has already been here.”

  56

  Amy Jo walked behind the pulpit, dramatically composing herself. Her face pinched as she tried to force tears, but when that effort proved fruitless, she just pretended to cry, wiping imaginary tears from her dry cheeks.

  “I never stopped loving you, Clyde Philpot,” she said, looking down at the casket. “Not even when I had gone off to spread my creative wings.”

  “More like, ‘spread her legs’,” Mama whispered loudly out of the side of her mouth.

  “You were always there for me,” Amy Jo continued. “And I always knew you were by my side, no matter where I went.”

  “Or whose back seat you were rolling around in,” Mama commented again.

  Randy elbowed his mother gently to get her to quiet down and his mother slapped at his arm. But Jade barely noticed. She was staring at Amy Jo’s pendant. As if Amy Jo could sense it, she began to play with the small goat dangling around her neck.

  “He gave me this pendant right before he died,” Amy Jo said. “Because I was his one and only.”

  Amy Jo didn’t even notice all the other women in the congregation who instinctively reached up to touch their own identical pendants.

  “I will always wear it close to my heart,” Amy Jo said.

  And, as she lifted the pendant to her lips, Jade noticed a small red dot on the back. She sat up, fighting the instinct to immediately storm the stage and grab it. She needed to be patient. There were too many people around, including an FBI agent. She would corner Amy Jo after the service and take it then. As people all mingled and shared condolences she would be able to slip away without anyone noticing. Her heart began to beat faster, knowing her hunt was coming to an end.