Hot Southern Nights

by Gen Griffin

  “I started to, but Trish is a bleeding heart.” Addison shrugged his broad shoulders. “You notice that gold Lexus parked on the curb in front of Grover's house?”

  “Didn't pay it any mind,” David said. “Why?”

  “Because that is the dick-face's car. I left his fat ass waiting for a cab on the side of highway 29 last night. I'm guessing he still hasn't managed to make it back to town.”

  “Trish's ex is in Possum Creek right now?” David asked disbelievingly.

  “I don't see him leaving town without his car,” Addison said. “We need to make sure Trish doesn't leave our sight today until we're sure he's gone.”

  “You really think he's trying to kill her?” Cal asked skeptically.

  “He grabbed her steering wheel and yanked her car off the road. When I pulled up, the first thing he did was try to get me to arrest her for DUI. She'd had one mixed drink.” Addison rubbed his chin tiredly. “I don't have the slightest fucking clue what he's trying to accomplish, but whatever his goal is, it won't end well for Trish.”

  “Great. David's fallen for a girl who is not quite divorced from a complete and total psychopath,” Cal said with a roll of his eyes. “And you said her last name is Shallowman, right?”

  “Yeah.” Addison nodded.

  “She's related to Crazy Grover then?”

  “She's his granddaughter. She didn’t grow up here but she’s living in Possum Creek now to help take care of Grover. Uncle Frank called her Momma after the last time Grover shot at the mailman. Told her that the family needed to do something or he was going to file the paperwork with the state to have Grover declared incompetent and put into a home.”

  “If I were her, I would have let Grover go to a nursing home. It would be a public service.” Cal shook his head. “But enough about Grover. I want to hear more about the girl. You really like her?” He was looking directly at David.

  “I asked her out, didn't I?” David scowled and leaned against the side of the rack. His knife was halfway into the alligator and the expression in his eyes warned Cal to drop the topic of conversation. “She got in Kerry's face when he accused me of trying to murder him.”

  “True,” Cal took the hint. “I still can't believe he's claiming you didn't shoot the alligator fast enough.”

  “He also tried to claim that I was actually trying to shoot him instead of the alligator.” David shrugged his shoulders at Cal. “The usual laundry list of accusations.”

  “Maybe you should just shoot him already.”

  “I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered it,” David admitted. “But there were an awful lot of witnesses there last night.”

  “Including a girl who got in Kerry's face for you,” Addison grinned at David. “You should really do something to say thank you. Maybe bring her flowers.”

  “I don't like flowers,” Trish announced as she pushed her way through the small metal gate that separated Grover's yard from Addison's Granny Pearl's. “They remind me of my ex. He used to bring me a dozen roses every time I caught him in a lie.”

  “Note to self, no flowers.” David had blood covering most of the front of his shirt. He didn't miss the startled look on Cal's face.

  Trish took a deep breath and forced a smile. She held up a thermos and several coffee mugs. “Who wants coffee?”

  “Me.” Addison grinned at her. “You know I want coffee.”

  “You always want coffee,” Trish said. “I go through 3 packs of K-cups a week because of you.”

  “I know. You love me,” Addy teased.

  Trish rolled her eyes as she poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him. She'd showered and changed clothes at some point in the last hour. The cocktail dress and heels had been replaced with a yellow tank top, jean skirt and chunky brown leather flip-flops. Her black hair had been pulled back into a messy ponytail and her skin looked fresh and clean.

  “You look better without make-up,” David informed her.

  Cal snorted back a laugh.

  “Well, that's good.” Trish filled the rest of the coffee mugs without batting an eyelash. “Because I'm too lazy to put any on right now.”

  “He has no tact,” Cal said as he waved one hand at Trish. “I'll take a coffee, if you don't mind.”

  “You can have coffee, and I noticed David's lack of tact last night” She handed him a cup. “Its kind of refreshing.”

  “You're really Grover's granddaughter?”

  She nodded.

  “Don't worry, she's been here two months and she ain't shot no one yet.” Addison grinned at Trish teasingly. “I can't see any family resemblance.”

  “God, I hope not.” Trish shook her head at Addy. “Last night was the first time I've ever fired a gun.”

  “Have I mentioned that watching you stand in the middle of Main Street wearing that little blue dress and shooting alligators with my rifle was quite possibly the hottest thing I've ever seen?” David asked.

  “Have I mentioned that you are definitely not sane?” She countered with a grin.

  “Oh, I thought the jury was still out?” David asked.

  “They came back. You're nuts.” Trish reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes for him. “Cute, but psycho.”

  Cal burst out laughing. “Okay, now I see what he sees in the girl.”

  David abandoned the gator and passed his knife to Cal. “Why don't you take a turn getting covered in blood and guts?”

  “I offered to take over 20 minutes ago,” Cal reminded him. He set his coffee cup down on the hood of David's truck. He cast a glance from David to Trish and then back to David. “I never thought I'd see the day David fell in love.”

  “I'm thinking we probably have a week or so until he proposes to her,” Addison chimed in.

  Trish's face was flushing pink with embarrassment.“Y'all do remember that I'm still technically married to Curtis, right?”

  “You're getting divorced,” Addison pointed out.

  “I am,” Trish confirmed. “Actually, I need to ask you a favor.”

  “A favor that has something to do with your divorce?” Addison stopped pouring sugar into his coffee and stared at her curiously.

  “Sort of.” Trish hesitated and then took a deep breath. “I need money.”

  “I mooch all of mine off of David,” Addison said automatically. “My paychecks rarely last 24 hours. You need to hit me up for cash on Fridays.”

  “Not what I had in mind,” Trish said with a laugh. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the 5 carat diamond ring that she'd worn every day for over a year. She held it up in her left hand. “Curtis spent a small fortune on this ring. I need to pawn it so I can either pay for repairs on my car or replace the car.”

  “That's a big ass rock,” Addison said.

  “It is,” Trish agreed. “Can you drive me to the pawn shop?”

  “You'd be wasting your time.” David frowned at the ring. He stepped closer to her and caught her left hand in his strong grip. “Your ring is a fake.”

  “What?” Trish stared at him with a wide-eyed expression of total shock. She instinctively pulled her hand back away from him so that she could stare at the ring. “Curtis gave me this ring along with a $20,000 receipt. It's real.”

  “No, it's not.” He released her left hand and them turned his own hand palm up. “Give it here and I'll prove it.”

  Addison abandoned his coffee and moved to stand behind Trish. “You really think the ring is fake?” He asked David.

  Trish hesitated for a split second and then dropped it in his palm. “It's real. I'm telling you.”

  David closed his fingers around the ring. He held it up in the early morning sun light. “Fake.”

  “Why do you think my ring is fake?” Trish wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed or intrigued by his claim.

  “First off, it fogs up when you breathe on it. Real stones don't stay fogged over for more than a second or so.” David blew on the stone and then held it up to show Trish the fogged s
urface. “Secondly, its too clear. Real diamonds have imperfections in their surfaces. Third, I can do this.”

  “Do what?” Trish asked.

  David pulled a razor sharp pocket knife out of his back pocket and flicked the blade open. He held Trish's ring in one hand and then carefully lowered the tip of the blade to the surface of the diamond.

  “The only thing that will scratch a diamond is another diamond,” David informed her.

  “I've heard that.” Trish cast a sideways glance to where Curtis's Lexus was still sitting parked at the curb in front of her grandfather's house. Her gray eyes were filled with hurt and anger.

  “This knife ain't no diamond.” David pressed the blade of his knife into the stone and then drew the metal across the rock hard enough that Trish could hear the blade cut into the ring. As he pulled the knife back away from the stone, Trish could see a long scratch going straight across the surface of her alleged diamond.

  “Oh my God,” Trish whispered as David handed the ring back to her. She stared at the scratch in shock and then mutely held it out so that Addison could see it as well. “Can you believe this?”

  “Your ring is fake,” Addison supplied less than helpfully. He ran the pad of his index finger across the cut in the stone.

  “I can't believe it. I never questioned that my ring was real.” Trish held up her engagement ring again, still visibly stunned by David's revelation. “All this time, Curtis has claimed that he spent the $10,000 my parents gave us for our wedding on this ring. It has to be real. What else could he have dropped all that money on?”

  “Its not real. If you need more proof, we can take it over to Buddy's Pawn when they open. We'll just tell Buddy that you want to know what your ring is worth,” David offered.

  “You would do that for me?” Trish asked, almost as if she was afraid to believe he'd help her.

  “You want me to?” He asked.

  Trish thought about it for a minute and then she nodded. “Please?”

  “Will it make you happy?” he asked her.

  “No,” Trish said honestly. “But I need to know the truth.”

  David smiled at her as gently as he could manage. “I'm fixing to run upstairs and borrow Addy's shower. We'll leave for Buddy's after I finish washing the blood off. Deal?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Trish agreed.

  Chapter 21

  “You can't be serious?” Kerry Longwood was up to his eyeballs in paperwork and he wasn't happy about it.

  “You said you wanted to see the cold cases,” Katie McIntyre gestured into the depths of the file room. Cardboard boxes containing police files were stacked from the floor to the ceiling in all directions. Some of them had fallen over and spilled their contents on the floor. Judging by the layers of dust, no one had been inside the room in several years.

  “Callahan County can't have this many serious unsolved cases.” Kerry pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to force the sneeze back down into his sinus cavity. His inhaler was in his pocket but he desperately didn't want to use it.

  “Serious unsolved cases?” Katie ran her fingers through her long honey-colored hair and shook her head. “What do you consider serious?”

  “Murder. Missing persons. You know, real crimes?” Kerry lost his battle against the sneeze. “Achoo!”

  “You might want to take some allergy meds before you go in there. The dust is killer.” Katie produced a tissue from somewhere on her person and handed it to him. “And no, most of the cases aren't serious, I don't guess. Most of them are pretty basic stuff that just never got solved. You know, petty theft, missing pets and anything Amelia Baxter ever came here to report.”

  Kerry groaned. “I thought the Sheriff threw all the Amelia Baxter reports straight in the trash can?”

  “He only started doing that after we ran out of room in the cold case room,” Katie clarified. She shrugged her slender shoulders at Kerry. “Sorry, Kerry. It's the best I know to tell you. If you want to start closing old cases, you're going to have to go in there and sort through that mess.”

  Kerry sighed. In reality, he was only interested in one case. He wanted to find the original investigative files on Casey Black's disappearance. Unfortunately, he had no new evidence or information that he could use to persuade Sheriff Chasson to reopen the case into Casey's disappearance. Instead, he'd been forced to make a lame excuse about how he wanted to investigate the department's cold cases and try to clear as many of them as possible from the case roster. He'd told Sheriff Frank Chasson that he wanted to become an official detective with the department. “How many cold cases are there?”

  “According to the computer system, 2003.” Katie ran her hands down the front of her stretchy maternity shirt. Katie was due to have the baby any day now, but she had insisted on working right up until the child was born. Her husband, Deputy Ian McIntyre, had agreed because he figured she was safer going into labor in the Sheriff's Department than she would be if she went into labor at their house.

  “This looks like more than 2003 files,” Kerry pointed out.

  “It is. Callahan County only started putting the files in the computer in 1999. Before then, they just tossed them in here.”

  “This is going to be a nightmare,” Kerry grumbled.

  “You asked to do it,” Katie replied. “You can always tell the Sheriff that you've changed your mind. Maybe he'll forgive you for losing your cruiser and let you go back on active duty in a few days.”

  Kerry sighed. “No. Somebody needs to go through this mess. It might as well be me.”

  “Have fun then,” Katie shook her head at him as the office phone started ringing. She picked the portable handset up off of Addison's desk. “Callahan County Sheriff's Department. How may I help you? You found what where?” Katie paused for a moment, her usual smile turning into a frown. “The cruiser is where? Yes. I'll send someone immediately.”

  “What's going on?” Kerry asked immediately as Katie hung up the phone. “My cruiser's been found?”

  She considered him for a long moment and then nodded her head. “You could say that. Its in the fountain at Veteran's Memorial Park. Apparently, it decapitated a mermaid.”

  “I'm on my way,” Kerry announced as he bolted out the office door.

  Chapter 22

  Buddy's Pawn was set back a block off of Main Street. David drove Cal's brand new Chevy directly up to the front door and cut the engine off. Cal had told David to keep the truck until he found something else to drive. Evidently Cal had a spare vehicle and didn't have to have this particular piece of $50,000 machinery. Trish was more than just a little bit jealous of him right this moment.

  “We're here.” David gestured to the Ka$h-4-Gold sign that was flashing neon in the dingy window.

  Trish took a deep breath. She struggled to steel her nerves as she reached for the door handle. She pulled the door open and then realized that David hadn't moved. “Are you coming?”

  “No.” David leaned back the creamy leather seat. “I'm going to wait here for you.”

  “You won't come in with me?” Trish asked.

  “Buddy and I have known one another for a very long time. He's more than an acquaintance, but less than a friend.”

  “Okay.” Trish had no idea why he didn't want to go inside the pawn shop with her.

  “I don't ever want you wondering if I influenced Buddy when he was evaluating your ring. I want you to walk in there on your own and ask Buddy to give you an estimate on your ring's value. Don't tell him who you are or why you're asking. Don't tell him that I'm outside waiting for you. Just go into the store as another anonymous girl with some ex-husband jewelry she wants to unload.” David stretched out in the seat and closed his eyes. “In the meantime, I'm going to take a nap.”

  “I'm almost jealous of you.” Trish stood up on the hot pavement. Being awake for more than 24 hours was starting to get to her but she desperately needed to know if David was telling the truth about her diamond.

  David la
ughed and then quickly turned serious. “I'll be waiting here when you're done in the shop.”

  “Thank you,” Trish said with a small but genuine smile. She steeled her nerves and headed into the pawn shop. She was overwhelmed by the smell of musty old sports equipment and dust as she pushed the dingy glass door open. Trish desperately wanted to turn around and walk back out into the sunshine, even as the fat middle-aged man behind the cheap glass display case looked up at her and smiled.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “Um...” Trish hesitated. She was afraid of the answers she was about to receive. If she handed her ring over to the pawn shop owner, she'd never be able to go back.

  Trish felt utterly exhausted as she forced herself to walk up to the pawn shop's counter. “I need to know. I need to um, know how much my ring is worth?” Trish pulled the diamond ring out of her pocket and held it up.

  The fat man blinked at her for a second and then held one grubby hand out. “You looking to pawn it or sell it?”

  “I'm sorry?” Trish didn't understand the question.

  “You said you need to know how much the ring is worth. You need to decide if you're wanting to pawn it and get it back or are you looking to sell it permanently. I pay differently depending on what you want to do.” He pulled a cylindrical gadget of some kind out from behind the counter and raised it to one eye.

  “Oh. I'm...I'm not sure.” Trish frowned down at her ring. It looked so wrong sitting in his hand instead of on her finger. “Can you just give me an approximate value?”

  “I kin do that,” he said with a nod. “Of course, once you make up your mind about what you want to do with it, it'll change the number around some.”

  “That's fine,” Trish told him.

  “Alright then ma'am. Just give me a minute with it.” He raised the ring up to the looking glass type-object and began inspecting it from all angles. “Hell of a ring.”

  “It is.” Trish felt a sudden rush of relief. It was a hell of a ring. A beautiful, expensive ring. She felt almost silly for doubting its authenticity.

  The fat man stopped turning the ring over. He frowned, focusing on one part of the stone. He pulled his magnifier away from the ring and then back to it several times. He pulled a small block out from under the counter and rubbed the band of the ring carefully against it. He stared at the block for another moment and repeated the process. “Well, that's strange. Real strange.”