Kicks for a Sinner S3

by Lynn Shurr

  “Ah, that would be blasphemy, I think,” the Rev said.

  “I mean no disrespect, Reverend Rev.”

  “When are you due?” Stevie asked.

  “A little after the senora in October, but she might be early.” Corazon eyed Nell’s belly.

  “Why don’t we just open a maternity ward on the second floor? Look, I’m happy for all y’all, but we have to make plans to get Tommy. That’s why you’re here.”

  “Now, Joe, don’t go rushing into anything. We should turn this over to the FBI,” Sheriff LeDoux said, brushing a few shreds of coconut from his mustache.

  “I don’t want them involved. We can handle Bijou. Aunt Flo told me where he is, right across the border in Nuevo Laredo working on some horse farm.”

  “Think again, Joe. Lots of nasty people in Mexico, and my bet is Bijou knows them all.” The sheriff held out his plate for another slice of cake. Corazon obliged him with a large wedge.

  Nell put up a hand. “Yes, think again. Much as I hate to say this, you left one person out, Joe. Have you called Cassie?”

  His discomfort showed in a wince. “No. I told her not to come here until Thanksgiving. You always say to be consistent with children, Nell.”

  “Unfortunately, she’s not a child anymore. Call her.”

  The group in the kitchen maintained a silence broken only by the dripping of the coffee Corazon had started. Wanting to be entirely open, Joe put the call on speaker phone as soon as someone picked up at the Thomas house because that is where she’d be on Good Friday if not at Lorena Ranch.

  “Who is this?” a small boy asked over the noise of many, many children. It sounded as if all of Cassie’s ten brothers and sisters, their wives and offspring filled the background with noise.

  “Joe Dean Billodeaux. Put Cassie on please.”

  “Cass-eeee!” he screamed. “It’s for you.”

  “Some phone manners you have, Declan,” they heard Cassie say. “Sorry, one of my nephews got to the phone first. Joe, have you changed your mind? I’d love to come see Tommy on Easter.”

  The hope in her voice embarrassed him. “No, it’s something else. Something bad. Bijou has Tommy. We think he’s gone to Mexico, but we’re working on a plan to get him back soon. Just wanted you to know.”

  “Wanted me to know! Don’t make any plans without me. We’re on our way.”

  “We? How many Thomases are comimg?”

  “Just me—and Howdy. We’re friends now. That’s all. Seemed sad he was alone on a holiday weekend. Even Brian Lightfoot went home, so Mom said to bring him over. One more doesn’t make any difference.”

  Oh, but it could if that person were Cassie.

  FIFTEEN

  Near ten p.m., Howdy’s huge red truck roared down the lane. Why the boy needed a big rig like that when he lived in New Orleans mystified Joe. Must be hell to find a parking space. He’d gone for a Porsche with his first bonus check back when he was young and dumb. His own truck had come later along with the ranch and Nell. Joe had some fond memories of putting that long bed to use before Bijou made off with it. God damn Bijou in a hundred different ways!

  “We could have been here sooner, but Howdy wouldn’t let me drive!” Cassie declared as she flung herself into the kitchen.

  “You were too upset to drive. I probably saved your life by keeping you from behind the wheel,” Howdy retorted. “She drives the way she barrel-races.”

  “You are so slow about everything! Absolutely everything, Howard McCoy.”

  “So, you two are friends now. I’m glad to hear that,” Nell said. “Sit down. Coffee? It’s decaf.”

  “Nothing. We had dinner before you called. How are we going to save Tommy?”

  “I’d appreciate some, Miss Nell,” Howdy said in that quiet way of his. He found a free chair and sat.

  “Just Nell. I’m glad you came along.”

  “Good luck with that. He still calls me ma’am. His good manners keep getting in the way.” Cassie’s eyes searched the kitchen.

  The Rev overflowed a chair next to his slim wife. Connor Riley, one arm draped around Stevie, sat with his bad leg outstretched. Corazon, out of character, perched on a cushioned seat and had her legs propped up. Knox stood protectively at her side, and Nell, already showing her pregnancy, poured the coffee. Joe kept his distance when Cassie’s gaze settled on him.

  “Where are the police? Why isn’t the FBI here getting ready to record and trace any phone calls?”

  Joe filled her in. “The sheriff left a while ago. He says he doesn’t want to know if we plan to do anything illegal. We’ll call him if we hear from Bijou or get a note, but we’d rather handle this situation ourselves. We know where my cousin is living. It’s just a matter of going there, giving him a bunch of money when we know how much, and bringing Tommy home. I’m sure he has no intention of keeping our boy.”

  “We should be on our way to Mexico tonight.”

  “I think considering the violence that sometimes breaks out in border towns, we need to go armed. I have to get licenses to take weapons. We’ll make it look like we’re going on a hunting trip for javelinas on a private ranch. I’ve done that before.”

  “Exactly what is a javelina?”

  “A peccary,” Nell answered.

  “Like a wild pig. They can be a real nuisance. It’s not huntin’ season, though,” Howdy said.

  “Private land, nuisance animals, Mexico, I doubt we’ll be stopped.”

  “Are you planning to shoot Bijou—because I’d volunteer to do it?” Clearly, Cassie meant what she said.

  “No, I promised Aunt Flo I wouldn’t harm him too badly, but I will put the fear of God into the man to keep him from trying this again.”

  “I’m going along to provide some restraint,” the Rev replied.

  “Me, too, for moral support,” Connor promised.

  “And me. I’m the best shot,” Knox claimed.

  Cassie got that stubborn set to her jaw. “Then take me. Tommy will want one of his moms after his ordeal, and heaven knows Nell is in no condition to travel.”

  “No way! If Cassie goes, I go!”

  Joe embraced his wife and rested his chin on her head. “Remember last time, Tink, when you tried to rescue Cassie all on your own? You lost one of the babies you carried. We can’t let that happen again.” Before Stevie, Mintay, or Corazon could speak up, he added, “All pregnant women stay home, lady doctors and children, too. Go back to bed, Dean.”

  The small boy peering into the kitchen hitched up his football player pajamas. “I want to help.”

  “You can help by taking care of the women while I’m gone. I want you to make sure everyone behaves, including your mother. She shouldn’t lift anything heavy or go riding. Corazon is having a baby also, so no sassing her or making extra work. You see the girls clean up their own messes and you, too.”

  Dean’s dark Billodeaux eyes widened. “Aren’t you too old to have babies, Corazon?”

  “Not if Mother Mary walks with me all the way, Dino.”

  “Dean, go back to bed.”

  “It’s weird having T-Connor and Little Joe sleeping in Tommy’s room. I can hear Riley snoring in her room all the way down the hall.”

  “Takes after her father,” Dr. Arminta Green Bullock said. “But we’ll have to get those adenoids and tonsils taken out soon. I do agree that all women and children should stay home.”

  “Not me. I’m going if I have to follow you in my own car.” Cassie crossed her arms.

  “I’d like to go along and help,” Howdy offered.

  “This isn’t your fight, son,” Joe told him.

  “Tommy is a cool kid, like the baby brother I never had. I grew up on a ranch. I can shoot varmints. Besides, someone has to keep Cassie in line.”

  “As if you ever could!” the woman in question fumed at him.

  “I might surprise you. I think it’s a given you won’t be able to leave her behind. She’ll get in more trouble trying to do something on her own
, I suspect.” Howdy leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head.

  “Getting to know her pretty well, I’d say,” Nell replied.

  “Yep. But just friends like she says.”

  “Okay. Me, Connor, Rev, Howdy, and Cassie make up this team. Knox, I’d rather leave you here to look after the women and children.”

  “What is this, the nineteenth century? The women can look after themselves and the children and the farm exactly the way they do every time men go off to war,” Stevie informed him. “Take Knox if he is the best shot. I can stick around and help here. You should only be gone for a few days, right, not four or five years.”

  “You know, Stevie, you can be as big a problem as Cassie. Fine, we’ll take Knox, but every single one of you must still be pregnant when we get back—except Mintay. Deal?”

  “Deal,” they all said.

  Tuesday morning Joe and Nell waited beside their mailbox outside the iron gates of the ranch. The holiday messed with the delivery schedule and not a word had come from Bijou by any means. Joe grew restless with the inaction. His wife knew the signs.

  Nell put a hand on his arm as he clenched and unclenched his fist, most likely thinking of how he’d like to drive it into Bijou’s face. “Maybe today. Strange Easter,” she said, trying to distract him.

  “Why? The kids always complain about dressing up and having to go to church twice, Catholic services with my mother and Episcopalian with you. Same thing every year only Tommy isn’t here to add to the protests.”

  “They got to make a cross of flowers at my church and march with it in the processional, better than having to wait forever while all the holiday Christians lined up for communion at yours.”

  “Not according to Dean who said he didn’t want to be a flower girl. Jude and Annie liked it. I was touched when they promised not to eat any of their Easter candy until Tommy comes home. They wanted to delay the egg hunt and egg paqueing until he got back, but all those Billodeaux cousins of theirs voted them down. They think Tom is on vacation with Flo and Hal.” Joe’s fist pounded on the top of the oversized black metal mailbox mounted on top of a brick pillar and its door flew open revealing the empty interior.

  “No sense in ruining everyone’s fun or letting all those eggs spoil. We’ll have our own hunt and egg bumping contest when our son returns. I swear Dean channeled all his anger into bashing his cousins’ boiled eggs to pieces. That’s how he won the big chocolate bunny for Tommy.”

  “Yeah, I taught him that, to direct your anger toward your opponents. Mail is late today.”

  “Catching up. Look, here comes the truck now.”

  The pint-sized white, red, and blue mail vehicle pulled up beside them, and their carrier leaned out with a substantial bundle. “Not often I get to deliver to you in person, Joe Dean. Got some envelopes from Mexico.”

  Ungraciously, Joe grabbed the heap of catalogs and junk mail and began sorting through the stack. “My hunting licenses and gun permits from the place where I shoot javelinas. I asked they send them as fast as possible, and here it is Tuesday.”

  “They celebrate Easter in Mexico exactly like we do, Joe,” Nell soothed.

  Beneath the large brown envelopes and above a ladies’ lingerie catalog lay a grungy letter postmarked in Texas. “This is it. I recognize that rat’s scrawl.”

  “If you’re having any trouble with hate mail, I should report it to the postmaster. Some fans can get violent,” the carrier said.

  Joe struggled, but finally plastered a cordial smile on his face. “Only an annoying relative asking for money. I can handle it.”

  “We all got those,” the postman agreed. “Y’all have a good day now.”

  They wished him the same as his small vehicle puttered down the country road to the next mailbox. Immediately, Joe hit the remote control on his keychain and rushed Nell inside the gates. He handed her the bulk of the mail and strode toward the house while he tore at the cheap drugstore stationary. Nell had difficulty keeping up. Catalogs offering premium chocolate, costly jewelry, high-tech toys, and ranch supplies fell from her arms and spattered open in the driveway. “Joe, wait!”

  “Sorry, sorry. Don’t overexert yourself.” He paused by the huge live oak with the low-hanging limbs, the same one where he’d first courted Nell, sitting beside her on one of the thick, sturdy branches and homing in for a kiss he never received. He did the same now, raising his little pregnant fairy of a wife onto a secure perch among the new spring-green leaves and climbing up next to her. Joe kissed Nell on the lips before showing his wife the letter.

  “Seems two million dollars is always the going rate for our children. Same amount I gave your sister for her eggs. The money isn’t the problem. I’d pay twice that for Tommy, for any of them, but I don’t trust Bijou. He says to wire the money to this account number and show up on Sunday at International Bridge #1 to pick up our son. Claims Tommy has a passport and can walk across to meet me on the other side.”

  “Do as he asks, Joe. Low as Bijou is, I don’t think he means Tommy any harm. His ego is too big to kill his own son. In a way, I think he is proud of having fathered a boy.”

  “A fine boy who thankfully looks more like his birth mother and is being raised by wonderful woman.”

  “Thank you. Now, promise me you won’t do anything to endanger yourself or Tommy.”

  “How about Bijou? Can I endanger him—a couple of black eyes, a broken arm, a smashed kneecap?”

  “I thought you promised Aunt Flo you wouldn’t harm him.”

  “Said I wouldn’t kill her rotten son to get mine back. No promises not to rough him up. Bijou has to understand this is the last time I will tolerate his interference with my family. I need a face-to-face to tell him to take the money in the form of a check and get his ass as far from us as the cash will take him. Any next times, and he’ll end up dead or in jail for life.”

  Nell placed his hand on her belly. “Joe, we have babies on the way. Border towns are dangerous right now. People get shot there all the time.”

  “Mostly they kill their own in drug wars, not American tourists. This is only Bijou we’re talking about. He may be ten years older than me, but I could take him since I was seventeen. He never reached the top as a bull rider because he didn’t keep in shape, just got on and hung on and trusted to luck. Bijou rarely thinks ahead much farther than the next poker game. Let’s tell the others.”

  “Yes, the same Bijou who stabbed you in the shoulder last time he tried to take Tommy. Don’t underestimate him. He’s a snake.”

  Joe helped his wife down from the branch and walked more slowly to the house where he found Connor and Howdy in the gym, both working on their legs. Breasts bobbing beneath a slick exercise outfit and probably driving the kicker crazy, Cassie ran on the treadmill. All action stopped when Joe entered waving the letter. He read it aloud to the group.

  “I’m going down there a few days early to surprise my cousin with a visit. Anyone wants out say so, because we leave at dawn. We should be ready to cross the border early Thursday. I got the gun and hunting licenses today. We’ll take high-powered hunting rifles with scopes, four of them. The Rev won’t want one and Cassie has never held a weapon as far as I know. Should scare the shit out of the shit bag. Connor, Howdy, you coming?”

  Connor nodded. “I’ve taken a few deer in my time.”

  “Big guns to shoot vermin, but yeah, I’m in.” Howdy said his words so coldly Cassie did a double take with her head as if the nice guy she knew had vanished and left Billy the Kid in his place.

  “Good. I’m going to fill in Knox. Get some rest.”

  Joe approached his ranch manager who sat on the rail of the exercise ring and watched the children ride their ponies. Horses needed exercise even during Easter vacations, he’d told them, mostly to get the gang out of the way and occupied as they waited for word on Tommy. He let Knox read the letter and explained his plan.

  “Sounds good. You’re the officer in charge.”
r />   “If you see anything wrong with this, I’d appreciate your input. You have the combat experience.”

  “Other than possibly provoking a fire fight, it sounds okay. I know Nell will care for Corazon and the baby if anything happens to me. My wife will have my military benefits if I take the big one. We can’t let scum rule the world.”

  “Come on, Knox. It won’t come to that. We’re only going to scare my cousin.”

  “You never know, sir. You never know.”

  Joe drove the new red family van, not exactly an intimidating vehicle, but the one that could hold the most big men. The Rev, out of training and packing on the pounds as he did every year on his mama’s cooking despite Mintay’s best efforts, took up two seats alone. Knox rode shotgun, literally, keeping one of the rifle cases at his feet while they stowed rest of the weapons in the back. Connor took the bench seat in the rear in order to stretch out his bad leg, and Cassie and Howdy sat across the aisle from each other.

  Nell made one last effort to stop Joe and convince him to wire the money and pick up Tommy on Sunday, but could not sway his “stubborn Cajun, mule-headed mind,” her words.

  “Tink, I’m the luckiest man alive,” he told her. “Nothing will go wrong, but if it does, I know you are strong enough to carry on. Now, Mama says she’s sending Lizzie’s boys to do the ranch work. They’re off this week, and we’ll be home by Sunday. She said not to pay them because they should to this for family, but you give them something for their trouble. With that unreliable drunk Lizzie has for a husband, they always need cash. Show the ransom letter to Sheriff LeDoux after we get to Mexico. I don’t want to be stopped at the border.”

  “I will. Joe, be careful.”

  “Ain’t I always?”

  “No, no you’re not, especially when playing games. You only think you are.”

  “Give Daddy Joe a kiss. Hug the kids for me. Tell them we’ve gone to get their brother.”

  She did kiss him long and well because it could be their last. A person should always be aware of that. Joe Dean drove the van into darkness with the sunrise at his back.