He’d managed to find three or four plastic jugs to put a little of the shine in for immediate sale. The second batch would be made from bottled distilled water because he needed the jugs to bottle more shine. It was a long trek from the road to the cave down on the bottom near the river, but Boog didn’t mind. He could park up on the bluff and enter a small opening in the backside of the bluff wall, well hidden from view by a couple of raggedy cedars. From there it was about a ten minute scramble through various tunnels and switchbacks until he descended a total of around two hundred feet to the exit of the limestone warren, the smallish cave at ground level in which the still resided. No tire tracks marked his location. The smoke from the fire stayed in the cave system, wafting upward through fissures and tunnels in the rock until it eventually dissipated into the atmosphere well above where he did his work. Part of the river bottom area in front of the lower cave was littered with dead post oaks, so wood for the still was plentiful. Post oak didn’t burn as slow as red oak or as hot as white oak, but it was close and dry. By the end of the second week Boog had almost two hundred gallons of shine in plastic jugs ready for sale. At twenty dollars a gallon it wouldn’t be long before he had money. Now he needed more of a plan.
He was studying on that very fact as he drove toward Mammoth Spring, when he noticed a small dark shape on the road in front of him. He tried to catch it with a tire, but missed. As he looked up ahead, he saw a couple more hustling across the road. He bet that black-haired woman doctor in them high-heel shoes would be scared to death of ‘em. Hell, even Mamma was. And for the next couple of weeks they’d be all over the place. He hadn’t played with none of ‘em since he was a kid. Maybe he’d catch a few an’ kindly give ‘em to that black-haired woman doctor in them high-heel shoes for a present. Maybe turn ‘em loose in her place or somethin’. Maybe of a night when she was asleep. All he’d need was some a them white throwaway coffee cups with lids like they had at the diner.
Just the thought of it made Boog smile, an’ ol’ Boog didn’t smile much. As a matter of fact, by the time he’d seen four or five more of ‘em crossing the road and had a little more time to think about it, he was actually laughin’ a little as he drove. Out loud.
Boog almost never laughed out loud.
CHAPTER TEN
Ruby LaCost jerked into wakefulness and lay in the dark looking upward at a ceiling she could not see. Unsure as to why she had awakened and reluctant to move in spite of protesting muscles, she lay on her back and reviewed events of the past few days.
She had not the slightest doubt that Ivy was behind the reason for Clete’s visit. Clete was not the type to meddle in her affairs on his own. For that he’d require motivation, at least at the beginning. Clete also had his own big hurt, his perceived failure in a past relationship. A time when he let something go that he felt he shouldn’t have. Over the years it could easily have morphed into paradise lost, taking on greater meaning that it really had, assuming more importance that it really should. People were like that.
She had no doubt that Clete, in his own way, loved her and Crockett. She also knew that Clete was not the type to give his emotions easily away in random involvement. He had good reasons for backing away from his relationship with Inez, for instance. Reasons that could benefit her independence in the long run, that really were probably the best for her. Reasons that also saved him from laying his heart on the line. His reluctance to do something as simple as that made his and Ruby’s current situation even more puzzling, especially with Ruby’s additional reluctance to become involved.
She sighed as she eased from between the sheets. Sleep was over for this night. Ruby lifted her robe from its hook and paused in the doorway to the hall, looking back at the bed. In the curtain-shadowed moonlight, Cletus Marshal lay on his left side facing the spot she’d just vacated. He trembled in his sleep for an instant, then settled and smiled. Ruby stepped into the hall and quietly closed the door behind her.
Shit.
Another fine mess.
Crockett overslept the next morning, not rising until nearly nine. Nobody was around but the coffee was still hot, and he poured a cup before lurching outside into sunshine that nearly blinded him. He shuffled down the hill toward the dock, gaining balance and strength on the way. By the time he reached the walkway at the water’s edge he could almost see. Maggie was there and wagged him on his way after a pat. Stitch met him by the carp pool and held open the door to the bait shop. Crockett staggered inside and groaned as he flopped on a stool by the counter, brushing a wisp of loose ponytail from the side of his mouth. Mazy grinned at him from beside the cash register.
“My but you’re lovely,” she said.
“Fine,” Crockett grumbled, supporting his chin in his hand. “Be a smartass. Pick on those less fortunate.”
“My turn?” Stitch said.
“Sure. Why not? Where’s Zeb? He may as well take a shot, too.”
“He went to town about seven-thirty this morning,” Mazy said.
“At least I’ll be spared that.”
Mazy chuckled. “I think it’s your sunny disposition that makes you so attractive to me. Were you up all night?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Crockett said, rising to the banter. “Musta been our midnight hot chocolate assignation and seeing you in your bedclothes that did it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. All that unfulfilled desire.”
Mazy flushed. “Uh-huh,” she said.
Crockett turned to Stitch. “The woman is a natural born tease,” he said. “Meets me in the dark of night, brings me succulent drink, flaunts her body in her bed chamber skimpies and flimsies, then, just when she has wrought her feminine magic, abandons me cruelly and returns to the intimate warmth of her Sealy, alone. God, I love black lace teddies.”
“I wouldn’t be able to sleep for days,” Stitch said.
“Bacon and eggs shut your mouth, Crockett?” Mazy asked.
“That your best offer?”
“That’s my only offer, and it’s going fast.”
“It’s wonderful, darling,” Crocket said. “Rush, sweetheart. Rush and return to me.”
“Oh shit,” Mazy said, and headed for the kitchen.
Stitch grinned at Crockett. “Man, you oughta.”
“Oughta what?”
“Oughta do somethin’ about that chick. She was really diggin’ you teasin’ her and shit. She’s a cutie, Crockett. Probably wouldn’t even try to fuck you up.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Probably wouldn’t even cross her mind to fuck you up.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Probably be too busy just bein’ a girl an’ shit. You know, sharin’ things and like that? Doin’ the wild thing just ‘cause she likes ya? Havin’ a good time, no strings attached? Just for giggles and to make the world go away for a while? You remember what that’s like, doncha?”
“Stitch…”
“They don’t call it makin’ whoopie’ for nothin, Crockett. Who knows? Might even be more concerned with you than with herself. Wow! Imagine what that could be like, dude. Freaky huh?”
“Goddammit, Stitch.”
Stitch gasped and did his best to appear chagrined. “Golly,” he said. “I’m sorry. Was that, like, out loud? Must be my new medication. Truth can be a real bitch, can’t it?”
Crockett grabbed his coffee, walked outside onto the dock, and dropped into a chair. Maggie waddled up and thrust her head under his dangling hand. He scratched the old dog’s ears as he heard the bait shop phone ring behind him.
Fucking Stitch. Crockett knew his whole spiel wasn’t a commercial for Mazy as much as it was an indictment of Ruby. What hurt the most was the fact that the twisted, brain-fried, Air-Cav convoluted, refugee from Woodstock was probably right. He loved Ruby. At least he’d convinced himself he did. Either way, love was not objective. And, the more objectivity that was forced on him, the more he was beginning to have doubts about their relationship. Doubts? Jesus Christ. She wou
ldn’t even let him come see her. Let him? Oh, hell.
Crockett sank deeper into his musings until Mazy walked out to stand beside him. He looked up. She was pale and chewing her lip.
“What’s the matter?”
“Golden Valley Memorial just called,” Mazy said. Her voice was tight and scratchy.
“Who?”
“The hospital in Clinton. Zeb’s there. He’s been in an accident. They have him in X-ray right now.”
Crockett got to his feet. Stitch arrived behind Mazy.
“I got the crib,” he said. “You dudes book it.”
When Cletus Marshal walked into the kitchen, Ruby was dressed in sweats and just closing the lid on a waffle iron.
“Morning,” she said. “About ten minutes. Could you get out flatware?”
“We being casual about this?” Clete asked.
Ruby deadpanned. “Hmmm?”
“Hmmm?” Clete parroted. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t know if casual is the right word. We’d certainly be foolish to assign it too much importance.”
“Ah,” Clete said.
Ruby turned to face him across the snack bar. “In any relationship there come moments of associational confrontation. Those moments can be adversarial in nature or manifest themselves in a variety of other ways. Ours just happened to reach a critical point last night.”
“You got that right.”
Ruby appeared not to have heard him. “It would be inappropriate to view it as either a mistake or a revelation. After all, we’re adults. We’ve known each other for a significant amount of time. We have been through situations of heavy stress in each other’s company. As I said before, to assign it too much importance would be foolish.”
“That’s what you think.”
“Yes.”
Clete shook his head. “Bullshit,” he said. “That’s what Doctor LaCost thinks. I don’t give a shit what Doctor LaCost thinks. I didn’t go to bed with Doctor LaCost, I went to bed with Ruby. I just got up with Doctor LaCost. I don’t wanna discuss this with a doctor. I want to talk about it with that bright and funny woman I made love with last night. You seen her today? She around anywhere?”
Her eyes full of tears, Ruby stared at him and did not answer.
“No? Can’t find her?” Clete asked, rising to his feet.
“Evidently not,” Ruby said.
Clete walked around the counter and touched her briefly on the cheek. “That’s what I thought,” he said. “Sorry. That doesn’t work with me, Miz Ruby. I hereby decline to participate. Save the crap for Crockett. I don’t have the time.” He turned and left the room.
Doctor LaCost stared at the empty doorway until the crack of a breaking nail made her realize how hard she was gripping the edge of the counter.
Mazy held it together for the first three miles or so, but when they topped the summit of a hill on a right-hand turn near the edge of the park and spotted Zeb’s truck off the road to the left nosed down a hill into a small copse of cedar trees, she began to cry. Cop kicked in and Crockett noted details of the scene as they sped past and said nothing for another couple of miles. Mazy sniffled to a stop before he spoke.
“How far to the hospital?”
“About another ten miles,” Mazy replied, her voice thick with tears and instant fatigue. “Sorry about losing it.”
“You’re entitled, but now you’ve gotta suck it up. You have to be in good shape or Zeb’ll never let you forget it.”
“God, Crockett! What if he’s…”
“He isn’t. The truck’s in pretty good shape. He had the brakes on all the way across the grass. None of the trees were splintered or uprooted. I don’t think the windshield was even cracked. He’s probably beat up some, but he’s okay.”
“How do you know all that?”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, sweetie,” Crockett said. “It’s a guy thing. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Asshole,” she said, backhanding him on the right bicep. “Guy thing, my butt.”
Crockett smiled. “That, too,” he said.
“C’mon.”
“I’ve investigated hundreds of crashes. It just automatic to size up a scene.”
“You’re sure?”
“You bet,” Crockett replied, wishing he was. “Five’ll get you ten Zeb’s pacing the parking lot right now, bitching ‘cause he doesn’t have a ride.”
Zeb was bitching all right, but not because he didn’t have a ride. They found him sitting in a wheelchair in the emergency room hallway. He had tape across his nose, his left arm was in a sling, and he was wearing a paper hospital gown with a blanket thrown across his legs.
“Goddam pea-brained, overeducated, half-wits! Won’t let me outa here. Say I might have a concussion. Tell me I can’t take no nap if I want to. Say I gotta spend the night so they can keep a eye on me. I been, by God, keepin’ a eye on them, and they ain’t very goddam much to see that’s worth lookin’ at.”
“Broken nose?” Crockett asked.
“Goddam steerin’ wheel,” Zeb replied.
“What else?”
“Oh, nothin’. Sprained my shoulder, cracked a couple a ribs, and banged up my left knee a little bit. Hell, I been hurt worse than this havin’ fun. Make ‘em let he the hell outa here.”
“No chance,” Mazy said. “You’re staying right here as long as they want you to, you’re going to cooperate with the doctors and nurses, and you are going to behave yourself, Zebulon Watkins, or I’ll make damn sure you wish you had. Do I make myself clear?”
“Who the hell you think you’re talkin’ to, girl?”
“I am talking to the most important man in my life, the grandfather to my son, and the only person I have to rely on. And I am not making suggestions. I am telling you the way it is gonna be!”
The outburst pushed her over the edge again and Mazy dropped to one knee, buried her face in Zeb’s good shoulder, and began to quietly sob. He patted her on the back and looked uncomfortable.
“Aw, hell, Mazy,” he said. “All right. If it’ll make you stop blubberin’, I’ll stick around. It ain’t gonna make no difference, but if it’ll put yer mind at ease…”
A simultaneous snort and hiccough from Mazy silenced the old man, and he held her for the moment it took for her to gain control. Mazy wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and stood up.
“I’ll bring you some peejays and a change of clothes as soon as I can get home and back,” she said. “Who’s your doctor?”
“Some snotnose kid that thinks he knows more about how I feel than I do.”
“That’s Doctor Snotnose,” came a voice from behind them. Crockett and Mazy turned to see a redheaded young man wearing a white coat, a stethoscope, and a grin. “You’re the daughter-in-law?” he asked.
“Yes. Mazy Watkins.”
He smiled. “I’m Doctor Eppler. Let’s go for a short walk so I can talk about this stubborn old man behind his back. Whaddaya say?”
“I’d love to,” Mazy smiled, and followed him off down the hall.
Crockett turned to Zeb. “What happened?”
“Sheriff asked me the same thing about twenty minutes ago. Told him I swerved to miss a deer.”
“Bullshit,” Crockett said. “You didn’t swerve to miss anything. What happened?”
“Steering went out. Road turned. I didn’t. Hadn’t a been for them cedars, I’d a gone plumb down that hill. There’s a pretty fair gully on down the slope a ways.”
“That’s an old truck. What do you figure broke?”
“Not a goddamn thing,” Zeb hissed. “I put a new steering box on the sumbitch not three months ago. Went over ever bit a that front end, right down to the ball joints. Wasn’t nothin’ wrong with that truck. Somebody fucked with it, Crockett. They had to. That truck was fine.”
“Why didn’t you tell the sheriff?”
“Didn’t want to. I’m tellin’ you.”
“What do you expect me
to do about it?”
Zeb grinned, then winced, then grinned again. “You’ll think of somethin’,” he said.
“Jesus Christ, Zeb! This should go to the law.”
“You’re the law. Didn’t I make you official Watkins City Constable?”
“C’mon, you know that’s bullshit. Doesn’t mean a thing.”
“Does to me.”
“Fine. I’ll call all my Watkins City patrolmen together and we’ll start working the crime scene. Then we’ll get the evidence to the Watkins City lab, jump in our Watkins City squad cars, make a shitload of arrests, and put ‘em all in the Watkins City jail. How’s that?”
The old man smiled. “Sounds good.”
“You’re serious. You want me to take a shot at this?”
“I got confidence in ya, Crockett.”
Crockett shook his head and his shoulders dropped. “Oh, hell,” he said.
“Just don’t say nothin’ to Mazy. I don’t want her worried about anything.”
“No deal.”
“What?”
“She’s as much in this mess as you are. She deserves to know.”
“Goddammit, boy, you keep yer mouth shut.”
“Probably not.”
“Crockett…”
“I couldn’t keep her out of this if I wanted to, you stubborn old fart.”
“Now you listen to me,” Zeb went on, then silenced himself as Mazy and the doctor approached.
“Doctor,” Crockett said, “your patient seems agitated. I suggest a nice ice bath followed by an alcohol rub, a gag, and a lovely barium enema.”
“Exactly my thoughts,” Eppler said. “I can get started as soon as I find an aide to get him checked into his room. Want to be sure and get a full day’s charge on the bill.”
“Couple a goddammed comedians,” Zeb grunted.
“Dad,” Mazy interrupted, “I’m going back out to the house and get you some stuff. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” She kissed him on the cheek and turned away.
Zeb glared at Crockett and waved him off. Crockett blew him a kiss and followed Mazy down the hall.
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