Step turned to Kenny. “Ima fire off another one.”
“What?”
“You said you wanted me to warn you next time. Consider yourself warned.” He turned back to Tidwell.
“My fucking eye is burning…”
“Ima take care of that.” Step pressed the barrel of the gun firmly against Tidwell’s forehead and squeezed the trigger.
Kenny disappeared into the house while the reverberation of the gunshot still filled the air, and reappeared in short order carrying a piece of paper. “You reckon we can run by Darla’s granny’s house sometime tonight?”
Chapter 35
Baked ham, green beans, and mashed potatoes filled Dani’s plate. For a slight girl, she could pack enough food in her stomach to make grown men push away from the table, and she ate like the food would expire in ten minutes’ time.
Her uncle Otis and aunt Jeannie shared a grin as they sat at the dining room table and picked at their own plates full of food. Watching their niece chow down was an amusing spectacle.
“Couldn’t make heads nor tails of it,” Dani said after she washed a mouthful of potatoes down with a gulp of water.
“She just said preacher? She didn’t give you any indication which one?”
“No, sir. She just told me to get a preacher drunk.”
“Curious,” Otis said. “And she let on like she and Rafe know all there is to know about this business?”
“The way she talked, everyone beyond our elevation knows of it.”
Jeannie slid a strand of silver hair behind her ear. “Lord knows I wish you two’d stop your police talk at the table.”
“It’s important stuff, Aunt J. Kids have gone missing.”
“I heard. I heard. Breaks my heart to think of it, and since I can’t do nothing about it, I’d just as soon not have to hear about it.”
“How ’bout your preacher?” Dani asked, cutting into her slice of ham.
“What about him?”
“You think he’s got any thoughts on the subject?”
Jeannie bristled. “I most certainly do not. Pastor Tom is a good man who wouldn’t harbor that kind of information. He’d pass it along as soon as he got wind of it.”
Dani shrugged. “Maybe. Suppose someone come to him to confess their sins on the matter? He couldn’t pass it along then, could he?”
“Dani, sweetie, I know it’s been a while since you’ve been to church, but we of the proper Christian faith do not undertake confession. We leave that to the Catholics and the Lutherans.”
“So what do you do when you sin?”
“We go straight to the source,” Jeannie said, pointing up. “Only God can forgive, so only God need hear confessions.”
“Son-bitch must get an earful,” Otis said with a laugh.
Jeannie threw her napkin at him. “Otis Royal, don’t you dare be so foulmouthed about the Lord. You’ll have to answer to him one of these days, and then where will you be?”
Dani covered her mouth as she giggled wildly.
“There, you happy? You’ve corrupted your niece closer to the devil. It ain’t bad enough you got her taking on man’s work. You’re flaunting your blasphemous ways in her face.” Jeannie placed her hand on Dani’s. “Look here, I wish you’d give up the policing and do something proper. It’s turning you crass.”
“Aunt J, you know I came to you about as crass as you can get.”
“You come to us as a lost girl who done some crass things. There’s a difference.”
“Leave the girl alone,” Otis said. “She’s got an aptitude for police work. As far as I know, aptitude is just another way of saying a gift from God.”
“A fat lot you’d know about gifts from God. She should look into that position at Mrs. Miller’s store.”
“What position?” Dani asked.
Jeannie shot darts at Otis with her eyes. “You said you talked to her about it. You said she didn’t have no interest.”
“She don’t have no interest…”
“How could you know that if you didn’t say nothing to her?”
“Because I know my niece, Jeannie. She don’t want to work at no Christian bridal shop—”
Dani blew out an ear-piercing whistle. “What Christian bridal shop?”
“It was just a fool idea your aunt had…”
“Fool idea?” Jeannie set her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together. “Lord give me strength.” She turned to Dani. “Mrs. Miller stood up and made an announcement at the end of service last Sunday that she was looking for a good Christian girl to help her in her bridal shop. I told her all about you, and she said she’d have you in for an interview. Your uncle said he talked to you about it, but you gave a flat no. He just lied through his yellow teeth.”
Dani hid a smile. “Aunt J, I appreciate you trying to look out for me, but there’s a couple of things you should know. I like my job. I do. I get a chance to help people, and make a little bit of a difference in folks’ lives. And the other thing is, I ain’t near a good Christian girl. I ain’t got no desire to be a good Christian girl. I’m just a cop. That’s all I am.”
Jeannie placed her hand on Dani’s again. “Ima pray God into your life. You’ll see. In no time at all, you’re gonna come to me and seek guidance into the wonders of the Lord.” She stood and cleared her plate away.
When Jeannie was in the kitchen, Otis leaned across the table and whispered, “Don’t fret. She’s been trying to pray God into my life for forty years, and it ain’t took yet.”
“That’s because you’re the devil, Otis Royal,” Jeannie yelled from the kitchen. “The prince of darkness himself!”
Otis flinched at the shrillness of her voice. “Woman’s got ears like a bat!” He shouted so she would be sure to hear.
Dani stuffed a thick hunk of ham in her mouth, anxious to get back to the topic of the missing girls. After swallowing she asked, “What do you think I oughta do about Ruby and Rafe?”
Her uncle considered her question carefully. “Not much to be done. They ain’t likely to give you more than you already got.” He looked over his shoulder and watched his wife exit the kitchen and enter the living room. She clicked on the television and sat on the sofa. Turning back to Dani, Otis said in a whisper, “I’d take Ruby’s advice if I were you.”
“What’s that?”
“Get a preacher drunk.”
“But which one?”
Otis shrugged. “Pastor Tom is as good a preacher as any to start.”
“But Aunt J…”
“If you learn nothing else from me, little deputy, learn this. Your aunt talks out of her ass when it comes to that church and her pastor. Ol’ Tom’s the senior preacher in Baptist Flats. If a pastor knows, I’d lay odds it’d be him.”
“I’ll pay him a visit tomorrow…”
“You’re likely to be tied up a good bit of tomorrow,” Otis said, still whispering. “I called in a favor with a couple of folks at Tanner Tobacco. They set aside a special shipment for our friend Trace Connor to haul out about noontime. I got a feeling his rig will be in violation of all sorts of regulations. Enough to detain him for a couple of hours.”
Dani smiled. “That’s sneaky as shit, Sheriff Royal.”
“That’s how good police work is done, little deputy.” He tiptoed into the kitchen and returned with an unmarked bottle of tawny liquid. “Bought this off a fella in Maiden Falls. He’s a goddamned artist is what he is. Pay ol’ Pastor Tom a visit tonight.”
Chapter 36
The music rattled Kenny’s rib cage as soon as he set foot inside The Rat’s Tail. He followed Step as the skinny closeout king made his way through the maze of tables, drunkards, and topless dancers. Kenny’s eyes were as wide as saucers as his attention bounced from tits to tits.
A DJ roared out in a deep mountain drawl that the drunken patrons should make some noise for Candy as a meaty redhead dressed in a pink rain slicker took the stage. She made horse-like strides around the circular platform
and gyrated in time to the heavy thumping beat.
Much to Kenny’s dismay, Step passed all the entertainment and made his way to the back of the club, the manager’s office. A giant man with a waist that surpassed his height sat behind a pressed wood desk. He chomped on a short, spent cigar and placed bills in stacks in front of him according to their denomination. When Step and Kenny entered, the giant man’s hand automatically reached for a pistol he kept in a secret cubby underneath his desk. The tension drained from his face when he realized who the two men were.
“You almost bought a lead salutation, fuckers.”
“Not the first time,” Step said. “Gunner here?”
“Ain’t seen him.”
“Who’s the redhead onstage?” Kenny asked.
“Candy.”
“That her real name?”
“Shit if I know,” the giant man said. “You got business with Gunner?”
“You could call it that,” Step said.
“Boss business?”
Kenny peeked over his shoulder and got a glimpse of the now-naked Candy strutting to the music. “Why don’t she go by Red? I like that name for a stripper.”
“It ain’t Boss business. This is off the books, so to speak,” Step said.
“You think she’ll mind if I call her Red?” Kenny asked.
The giant man shrugged. “Call her what you want.” He shifted his attention to Step. “This can’t be Boss business unless’n I get a call. Ain’t no call come through. Me and Boss got an agreement.”
“It ain’t Boss business. I just need to have a talk with Gunner. His woman working tonight?”
“Which one?”
“Whichever one he keeps the most company with.”
“That’d be Dreama.”
“She here?”
“She’s in The Bubble Room with a fella. Been in there awhile.”
Kenny leaned his head back as he tried to keep Candy in his line of sight. “Could put Red and Candy together. That’d be a fine name, too.”
“Why you so hung up on Candy’s name?” the round man barked.
“ ’Cause it just don’t make sense, is all. There’s a million and one Candys dancing in clubs. There probably ain’t near as many Reds. I bet I could walk to the end of the Earth without ever running into a stripper named Red Candy. I just think she ain’t distinguishing herself enough. Those kinds of things concern me.”
“Well they ought not,” the round man said. “It’s a waste of concern.”
“Ima have to talk to Dreama,” Step said.
The round man sighed. “Fine, but be quick about it. She don’t get paid to answer your questions.”
Step and Kenny moved back out onto the floor and headed to a hallway off the entrance to the club. Four rooms lined the hall bathed in red light: The Jiggle Room, The Hump Room, The Grind Room, and The Bubble Room. The two closeout kings made their way to the last door and threw it open without knocking.
“What the shit…” a man said as he scrambled off the black vinyl couch. His heavily stained flannel shirt stopped just below his bellybutton, exposing a flabby, pale, hair-covered midriff.
Dreama, a dark-haired victim of unfortunate cut-rate plastic surgery, screamed and tried to hide herself in a corner of the tiny room, tripping in her stilettos in the process. Her head bounced off the wood paneled wall and she fell to the concrete floor croaking out cries of pain.
Kenny pushed the customer back down on the couch. “You’ll get your time back, fella. Just hold your pecker.”
Step knelt beside Dreama and examined her head. “You’ll bruise up, but that’s about it.”
She sat up and Step helped her to her feet. “What the hell you boys doing?”
“Come to find out where Gunner is,” Step said.
Kenny looked at the thin woman with the fake tits and salivated at the sight of her in a black fishnet bodysuit. “That ain’t a practical outfit for this drafty old room.”
“There’s practical and there’s profitable, honey,” Dreama said, rubbing her sore head.
“Gunner,” Step said, snapping his fingers. “Where’s he at?”
“I ain’t seen him in two days.”
“Where was he two days ago when you saw him last?”
“Right there,” she said, pointing to the couch.
“They make that outfit for smaller gals?” Kenny asked. “Got a date, and in case it leads to a couple more, I’d like to get her one of those. She’s tiny…curvy, but tiny.”
“It’s one size fits all.”
“Fits all? That don’t make no sense. Ladies ain’t all the same size—”
“Kenny!” Step shouted.
The chubby closeout king bowed his head and stepped back toward the door.
Step sighed. “Gunner say where he was headed?”
Dreama shook her head. “Said he was filling in for a guy. Had to take a trip up north.”
“North?”
“A day’s drive. He was pissed because he felt like he was being cheated on the gas money.”
Step nodded and handed Dreama a twenty.
She took the money and sneered. “You know I bumped my head, right?”
Step handed her another twenty.
“I’ll bruise up. You said it yourself.”
He handed her one more twenty.
She smiled. “You’re a classy man, Step Crawford.” He was about to leave, but she stopped him. “That gal of yours didn’t show up for work tonight.”
“She didn’t?”
“Ain’t answering her phone, neither. There’s talk she’s to be fired.”
Step hesitated and then said, “That ain’t gonna happen. Tell your boss I’ll check on her.”
Dreama shrugged.
Step moved past Kenny and exited the room.
Before pulling the door shut, Kenny said, “Ima call you later and get the name of that fits-all shop. Might be they got fits all for tiny gals, too.”
Chapter 37
Pastor Tom’s wife was a butch woman with bowlegs and black peach fuzz on her upper lip. She invited Dani into the house and asked the deputy to wait in the dining room while she fetched her husband out of his evening meditation.
When Pastor Tom entered the dining room, Dani realized the man of God was as effeminate as his wife was masculine. It was as if the married couple had swapped hormones.
It didn’t take much convincing before the preacher had retrieved two glasses from the armoire and was encouraging Dani to fill his up to the top with some of the homemade brew.
“Your daddy’s a preacher, right?” Pastor Tom asked as he sipped his whiskey.
Normally Dani hated talking about her daddy, but this was the one occasion where her no-good old man would serve a useful purpose. “Yes, sir. Preached in Baptist Flats for a good long while before he took up with a church in Kentucky.” That was the short version of the story. The long version was that her old man had finally been run out of town. His diddling habits sank down into the youth ministry, and he was caught spreading the word and his seed in a learning-impaired girl who was finishing up her second year of twelfth grade. Technically she was of age, but that didn’t matter to her folks who threatened to have Dani’s daddy defrocked if he didn’t leave town on the double.
“They sent you to the Anointed Daughters school?”
Dani nodded. She wouldn’t be able to fake her way through a pleasant conversation about the school, so she quickly changed the subject. “How long you been married, Pastor?”
As if he were counting off a prison sentence, he said, “Twenty-one years, two months, thirteen days, and”—he looked at his watch—“five and a half hours. Give or take a minute or two.”
“Well, isn’t that just so sweet. Children?”
The pastor laughed as if that was the silliest question ever asked. “Heavens no. The missus and I have dedicated our lives to tending to our flock of believers. We haven’t had time for the blessings of children.” He gulped half his drink.<
br />
Dani topped off his glass. “I tell you what, having children in this area is rough, ain’t it?”
He nodded before taking another sip.
“Rough as a three-day-old beard.” She listened to him swallow.
“It’s a tough thing all over,” he said.
“Yeah, I suppose, but what with the high number of abductions up the slopes, it just makes it that much rougher around here.”
“Oh, that,” he said before tossing some more whiskey down his gullet.
“It’s a terrible thing, ain’t it?”
He seemed to lose control of his nod as he attempted to agree with Dani. “Terrible.”
“Why is it, do you think, that the mountains are riddled with case after case of missing girls?”
He shrugged. “The Lord works in mysterious ways, Dani.”
She rolled her eyes without him noticing. “My daddy always used to say the same thing, Pastor. He surely did, but I can’t help but think that there’s something besides the Lord’s mysterious ways at work in these cases.”
He chuckled. “The police are always suspicious of such things. I can understand that.”
“You must run into some of your preacher friends here and there who have consoled a brokenhearted mother or two.”
He finished his glass of whiskey and held it out for Dani to refill. She complied. “How about it, Pastor? You ever hear from any of your colleagues about these missing kids?”
He downed the whiskey and then blew out a liquor-laden breath. “That comes up on you, don’t it? It does have a kick to it. Yes, sir, it does.” He held out his glass. “I’d like another kick, if you please?”
Dani filled his glass again. “You might want to slow down there, Pastor. This is a home brew. It’ll strip you down quicker than store-bought.”
He sniffed the contents of the glass. “I swear I smell a hint of honeysuckle.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
He sipped his drink. “What question?”
“Have you heard from mountain preachers about missing kids?”
His head wobbled as he considered her question. “Now, mind you, I rarely hear about these things firsthand. I mostly hear rumors from this parishioner and that, so it’s not something that I ever get official word on. Mostly.”
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