by Sharon Sala
“No. The moment that tail went up, we all hightailed it out of there. We just took Dooley home and put him to bed. I don’t smell no fumes, so I guess we missed that bomb, but he’s still there. What do we do?”
“Go unlock the back door and leave it open. Maybe he’ll leave the same way he got in. Find something skunks like to eat and put it just outside the door. Make sure it’s close enough that he can smell it, but not so close that you can’t get the door shut once he leaves.”
“Yeah, okay... Uh, wait, Chief. What do skunks like?”
“The hell if I know, Avery. Look it up on Google. And whatever you do, don’t upset him. We don’t want to smell that for the next six months.”
“Right, right, we’re on it, Chief. Sorry to bother you.”
Trey ended the call, looked at Dallas and burst out laughing.
“I’ll bet stuff like that doesn’t happen in Charleston,” he said, and threw back his head and laughed some more.
Dallas was charmed by his reaction and for a moment forgot the revelation he’d laid at her feet in church. By the time she thought about bringing it up, they were pulling into the driveway.
At that point she sighed, wishing she didn’t have to face a crowd all over again.
Trey saw the white line around her mouth and could only guess at what she was feeling. As soon as he parked he reached for her hand.
“You’ve got this. You celebrated Dick’s life with great stories, now try and think of this as sharing a meal with all of his best friends.”
“And the family,” she added, rolling her eyes.
Trey laughed again, which made her smile.
“They aren’t so bad, but if they cause any trouble, I’ll take them back to town with me and lock them up with my skunk.”
Dallas laughed, and then was shocked by the moment of joy.
“You always were my knight in shining armor,” she said.
He stifled the pain in his chest and made himself smile. “Still am, always will be. Let’s go inside. Even if the day is chilly, I’m ready for a big glass of sweet iced tea.”
* * *
Betsy was watching from the living room window, and when she saw Dallas and Trey coming toward the house hand in hand, she said a quick prayer, and then met them at the door.
“How was the service? Did very many people speak?” she asked.
“Let me put my things up and make a quick trip to the bathroom before everyone gets here, and then I’ll tell you all about it,” Dallas said.
As soon as she left, Betsy pinned Trey with a look.
“Did you speak?”
“Yes.”
“Did she cry?”
He nodded.
“Then there’s hope for you yet,” she said.
Trey shrugged. “Don’t get your hopes up, Mom. She cried when she left me the first time, but it didn’t stop her.”
Betsy frowned. “I don’t understand. When people love each other like you two do, there should be a way to make it work.”
Then they heard footsteps coming up the hall, and Trey followed his mother into the kitchen for that tea.
“Ooh, would you pour some for me?” Dallas said, when she saw what he was doing.
“Absolutely,” he said.
Dallas looked at Betsy. “Did he tell you?” she asked.
Betsy looked startled and then glanced at Trey. He felt equally anxious, afraid she might have overheard part of their conversation.
“Tell me what?” Betsy asked.
“About the skunk!” Dallas said.
“Oh, that,” Trey said. “I was just about to.” He gave Betsy the story, blow-by-blow, and she was still laughing when the first guests began to arrive.
Trey pointed toward the living room.
“Dallas, go find a comfortable seat, and don’t get up or you’ll lose it. I’ll get the door.”
She took her tea into the living room and claimed her dad’s recliner. It wasn’t much, but if she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine she was a little girl again and sitting in his lap.
* * *
The killer could see that the turnout was good when he arrived at the farm. There were so many cars parked around the house that he had to drive toward the barn to find a spot.
“How’s this?’ he asked, but didn’t wait for an okay from his passenger before he got out.
He glanced down toward the barn, remembering he was the one who’d caused all this ruckus, then he locked the car door and joined the others walking toward the house.
* * *
Inside, Betsy Jakes was in her element—directing people to the buffet-style setup for food, and to the dining room table for dessert and drinks.
Trina had arrived with the first wave of people from the church, and was keeping food on the tables and ice in the glasses.
Trey mingled his way through the crowd with an eye on Dallas, just in case someone decided to criticize Dick’s exit from this world.
Almost all the people from Dick’s class had come out to the house and were sitting around sharing even more stories, which kept the energy light, instead of the darkness that came with grief.
When the front door opened again and another wave of friends walked in, Trey saw his mother take them in hand. He smiled. She would have made one hell of an event planner.
It took him a while to notice that Dallas hadn’t got a thing to eat but her glass of iced tea was empty. He walked up behind her chair and, when there was a pause in the conversation, leaned down and whispered in her ear.
“I’m getting you a refill of iced tea. Will you let me bring you something to eat?”
She leaned back and looked up, straight into the eyes of love. He’d pretty much announced his intentions to her father at the age of eleven, and she’d still turned her back on the two people who loved her most. What he’d said today had stunned her. She was ashamed and didn’t exactly know why, but the unabashed way he had of loving her, knowing full well she wouldn’t reciprocate, hurt her heart.
“Yes, maybe I should, but don’t bring much, Trey.”
“Don’t worry, I know what you like,” he said, and strode through the crowd on a mission.
I know what you like.
That had never mattered before, but today it felt like a gift she’d been given in the midst of all this pain.
“Dallas, honey. Have you decided what you’re going to do with the family farm?”
She turned to see who was asking. It was Georgia Wakefield, her second—or maybe it was her third—cousin once removed.
“I have plans,” she said, and left it hanging. She didn’t know what the hell she was going to do, but she wasn’t going to discuss it here, or with family members she hadn’t seen in years.
“It’s such a beautiful place,” Georgia said. “I remember coming out here with my granny and granddaddy when I was little. I used to play in that big old barn and—”
Her expression froze into a half-assed smile as she realized what she’d just said, but Dallas picked up without missing a beat.
“I did, too. Every spring I climbed into the loft looking for new kittens. The barn cat had a penchant for having babies as high off the ground as she could get. I used to ask Dad why, and he would laugh and say, ‘I guess she thinks they’ll grow feathers and fly.’”
The ensuing laughter saved Georgia from embarrassment. She mouthed, I’m sorry, but Dallas just smiled and shook her head, and the moment passed.
Trey appeared just then, easing things even further. “Here you go, honey. Some of your favorites,” he said, and handed her the plate and fork, then presented a paper napkin with a flourish. “For the parts that don’t reach your mouth.”
“You know me so well,” she said.
“I do, don’t I?” he said, then touched the crown of her head before walking away. He came back shortly with a new glass of iced tea, set it nearby and left her to it.
She actually ate the small servings that he’d chosen and even enjoyed t
hem as she fielded condolences and listened to more stories about her father’s giving ways.
Betsy was in the kitchen when she heard a voice behind her.
“Hey, Bets.”
Only one person had ever called her that. She turned around to see Paul Jackson standing in the doorway, looking at her with a strange expression on his face.
“Hi, Paul. Did you get some food yet?”
Finally he shook his head as he came closer.
“No, I just got here. When I didn’t see you at the service, I was afraid you were sick. Then I get here and find out you’re running the whole shebang. I should have known.”
She smiled. Old boyfriends had their place. Just not at the head of the table.
“Dallas didn’t have any family close by, and she’s been part of mine for most of her life. It only seemed fitting I handle things for her.”
“And you’d be right. You always were thoughtful of others. It’s one of the things I admire about you most. Anyway, just wanted to say hi. I’ll let you get back to work. I’ll grab a bite to eat and go say a few words to Dallas.”
He started to walk out and then paused.
“I’m damn sorry you were the one to find him. It’s almost like fate wanted someone who mattered to him to do the finding. There’s just two of us now. Feels weird, doesn’t it?”
Betsy’s lips trembled. “It feels wrong,” she said.
He gave her another long, studied look, seemed about to say something more, then visibly changed his mind. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“I’ve been crying off and on for days. The whole thing is just so tragically sad.”
Betsy watched Paul leave and then went back to work. She didn’t want to think about the past. It was already intruding into her sleep. She didn’t want to relive it in the bright light of day, too.
Eight
Marcus Silver saw Paul getting food at the buffet and walked over.
“Thanks for joining us this morning. I think it meant a lot to Dallas to hear all the stories about her dad.”
“Good that you thought to get us all together,” Paul said.
Before Marcus could answer, his son, T.J., was at his elbow.
“Dad, you have a phone call. Someone’s been trying to get in touch with you and finally called me,” T.J. said.
“Is there a problem?” Marcus asked.
“No, but—”
“Tell them I’m at a funeral and take a message. Tell them I’ll call them tonight.”
“Sure thing,” T.J. said, and hurried away, heading outside where it was quieter, so he could pass on the message.
“Nice kid,” Paul said, as he watched T.J. politely moving through the crowd.
Marcus beamed. “He’s the light of my life. Don’t know what I’d do without him.”
Paul nodded. “I feel the same way about my son, Mack.”
“What’s he up to these days?” Marcus asked.
“He owns the lumberyard in Summerton, and he’s doing quite well for himself.”
“That’s great. Any grandchildren?”
Paul shook his head. “No, Mack’s not married.”
Marcus glanced toward the open front door. He could see his son standing out in the yard, still talking on the phone.
“T.J. shows no signs of settling down, either, but he’s young. Listen, I’ll leave you to your food. Good to see you.”
Paul forgot Marcus almost as soon as he left. The two of them hadn’t been close friends in high school and they didn’t exactly run in the same social circles now. Still, he seemed like a decent man, and Paul wasn’t one for envy.
* * *
It was almost four o’clock before the last guests left. Betsy was cleaning out the coffee urns, and Trey was carrying folding chairs back to the basement. Dallas had changed back into blue jeans and a sweatshirt, and was putting tablecloths and dish towels into the washing machine. Trina was, once again, running the dust mop over the hardwood floors.
Dallas came back into the kitchen, grabbed a cold pop from the refrigerator and sat down at the table as Betsy was packing her coffee urn away.
“Betsy, I am so grateful for everything. You know I couldn’t have done this without you guys.”
“Oh, honey, you’re welcome,” Betsy said. “It was a wonderful turnout, wasn’t it? Said a lot for how much Dick meant to everyone.”
“Yes, it did. I heard more stories about him today than I’d heard in my whole life. I have a much bigger picture of what he was like besides being my father.”
“Have you heard anything more about the coroner’s report from the sheriff?” Trina asked, as she put the dust mop back in the kitchen closet.
“No.”
“Are you going to stay a few days, or do you have to go back to work right away?” Trina asked.
“I’m staying until Dad’s name is cleared. I can’t think beyond that,” Dallas said, and then looked up and saw Trey standing in the doorway. The look on his face broke her heart. Once again, he’d been given a deadline to be with her, although she hadn’t meant that for his ears.
“I think we’ve got your house put back together,” he said. “I just got another call from Avery. He’s going off duty, and Dwight Thomas, the night dispatcher, refuses to be in the same building with a skunk. I have to go see if I can straighten this mess out.”
“Wait,” Dallas said, and started to get up. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Don’t bother,” he said. “I’ll call you later to make sure you’re safely back inside, and don’t do chores without taking your gun.”
Betsy gasped. “Gun? What on earth?”
“She’ll explain. Duty calls.”
He left so fast Dallas knew he was hurt by what she’d said, but she didn’t know what to do about it.
“I’m listening,” Betsy said, her hands on her hips in a defiant stance.
“Last night something tried to get at the chickens. I went out with Dad’s shotgun, thinking it was probably a coyote or a fox, but it was a dog...a really big feral dog. It snuck up on me. I shot and missed but it ran away.”
“Oh, dear Lord!” Betsy said, and pointed at Trina. “See! I told you I’ve been seeing a wild dog in the area. It’s from that dogfighting ring they broke up. It has to be.”
Dallas pulled the picture of the paw print up on her phone and handed it to Trina.
“That’s a picture I took early this morning when I was doing chores.”
“Dallas! His paw is wider than your boot.”
“Let me see that,” Betsy insisted, and then stared at the picture in disbelief. “Honey, a dog that big could kill you. Please be careful, and whatever you do, if you see it again, don’t try to hunt it down. You get somewhere safe.”
Their concern made Dallas that much more uneasy, but she wouldn’t let on.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “There’s buckshot in Dad’s shotgun, and it sprays everywhere. If there’s a next time, I won’t miss. Now, I’m assuming you had the good sense to take home something to eat. There’s no way I want all that food left here.”
“There are a couple of dishes in the refrigerator for you, and I put a few containers of leftovers in your deep freeze. They’re labeled, so you’ll know what’s what. I sent food home with some of your more elderly neighbors, and a lot of it home with the Shermans. They have all those kids, you know.”
“Thank you. I can’t think of a better use for the extra,” Dallas said.
Betsy gave her a kiss, and Trina hugged her goodbye. Moments later they were on their way.
Dallas glanced around the yard as they drove away. The sky was cloudy, the air already getting cold. She didn’t want to be doing chores after dark and hurried back inside, changed into old shoes and a jacket, and headed out the back door with the gun and her phone.
Even though she was leery the whole time she was working, nothing happened, and she made sure every chicken was safely inside for the night before she headed for the house.
The cows would be up in the morning, bawling for hay, but not at night. She was walking up the back steps when she caught a glimpse of lights up on the northernmost side of the mountain. They were there, and then moments later gone, hidden by the trees. She watched for a few moments longer, making sure they didn’t come onto her land, which lay in the opposite direction, and when she didn’t see them again, she went inside and locked the door behind her. It wasn’t until she walked into the kitchen and let the comfort of home envelop her that she realized how territorial she’d felt.
Her land. Her home. Whether she wanted the responsibility or not.
* * *
Trey got to the police HQ just in time to see the skunk waddling down an alley between the station and the next building over.
“Hey, I see you got the skunk out,” he said, as he walked inside.
Dwight, the night dispatcher, nodded. “Avery did it. He found an app on his phone that played a recording of hounds baying. He turned it on and shoved it under the door next to the cells. Sent old stinky butt flying out the back door so fast it was funny.”
Trey grinned. “Brilliant.”
Dwight nodded. “I’m sorry about letting it in last night. I never saw it.”
“No harm done,” Trey said. “But keep a watch next time.”
“Have no fear,” Dwight said. “Stupid once, to be expected. Stupid twice, shame on me, or something to that effect.”
Trey laughed. Dwight was a character in his own right. “Okay, I’m heading to my apartment. Have a nice night.”
“Thanks, Chief. Sleep well,” Dwight said.
Trey went back to his truck, grateful to be going home. He was tired and heartsick, and needed some alone time to lick his wounds. Hearing Dallas talking about leaving again, even if it was at some indefinite time, was hard, but nothing he hadn’t expected. But once inside the apartment, he was struck by the empty feeling of the place. It had all his stuff: pictures from hunting trips, a couple of trophies from high school, a commendation for rescuing an entire family from a burning car and his diploma from the police academy. It memorialized what he’d done but not who he was. There were no pictures of Dallas left on the walls. He’d taken them down when she hadn’t come home from college. Except for his mother and his sister, no other woman had set foot inside his place. He loved a woman who wanted more than he could give her. It was a sad, sad fact.
