Celestine joined Willodean at the side of the bed and patted her daughter on the back.
“Morgan Newbrough confessed to just about everything,” Celestine said. “Nancy Musgrave and he were up to some severe no-good. Morgan also led police to the grave of Robert Daughtry, the real Robert Daughtry.”
The PSS bounded into the room. Purple cloth whirled around him in a cloud of violet grandeur. Somewhere he’d found a properly colored sheet to use as a cape. “See! My super senses told me Bubba would soon awaken!”
The cantankerous nurse, Dee Dee Lacour, followed him. “No loonies on the ward!” she cried.
“I resent that!” The PSS cried and leaped into the hallway. “I must go and save the rest of the world!” he trumpeted as he bounced down the passage, the purple sheet flying like a flag behind him.
Dee Dee cast her sour visage upon Bubba. “Oh, he’s awake,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her words. “Joy abounding. I’ll get the doctor.” She walked out just as sharply as she’d walked in.
“Did we leave anything out?” Miz Demetrice asked Celestine.
“No. Bubba rescued my daughter, got thumped for it, and now he’s awake. That stalker guy didn’t have anything to do with Willodean’s disappearance, and Bubba pretty much came out smelling like a rose. Although he looks like something a mad cat dragged in, and his head probably hurts like a bitch.” Celestine shrugged. She looked at Bubba again. “Thank you, Bubba,” she added sincerely. “You’re okay for a big rednecked goober.” She stepped away.
Bubba’s head did hurt. His jaw ached, and so did everything else. However, it was getting better considering Willodean was draped over him with her chin tucked into his chest.
“They’ll give you something for the pain,” Miz Demetrice said. She approached the bed from the side opposite Willodean and carefully kissed his forehead. It seemed about the only place not damaged in some form. “Good to see your eyes open, Bubba dearest.”
Willodean pulled away and stepped back. The expression on her face was curiously flushed. Bubba couldn’t recollect a moment when Deputy Willodean Gray had such rosy cheeks and self-conscious eyes.
“Coffee, Miz Demetrice?” Celestine asked knowingly.
“Oh yes,” Miz Demetrice agreed.
The pair left quickly.
Bubba stared at Willodean, soaking her in. Her face was on the gaunt side, and her green eyes were ringed with black, but she didn’t look bad at all.
On the contrary.
Bubba motioned with his hand, a circular motion as if writing.
Willodean said, “Oh, the nurse brought in one of these magnetic writing boards for kids.” She handed it to him and helped him to adjust his bed so that he was sitting at a forty-five degree angle. His head pounded like a drummer on meth, but he couldn’t be too unhappy about it.
The writing board was in the shape of a frog’s head and had an attached stylus. He blinked at it, picked it up, and wrote, “Did he hurt you?”
Bubba watched Willodean swallow at the words. “No, Morgan backed into my county car on the road. Knocked me out. Took me to that storm cellar and chained me to the supports. The manacles rubbed my wrists raw, but nothing else is wrong with me. Morgan was angry Miz Demetrice wasn’t with me. His sister had told him to get your mother, but when it came down to it, he thought Miz Demetrice would be with me since the other officers were talking about Big Joe releasing her from jail. He was mad she wasn’t. He was also confused. I think he needed a lot of guidance from Nancy Musgrave. Once she was arrested, he wasn’t exactly sure what to do.”
She took a breath and went on, “There were blankets in the storm cellar and a portable heater. He left bottled water and some packaged food. I had just about managed to pry the chains free of the cement supports when he brought Forrest Roquemore in and chained him, too. The old man’s got seven stitches on his head, but he’s okay.” She paused. “I’m okay, too. Better than you.”
Willodean’s face crumpled. “I didn’t mean to bash your skull in.”
Bubba sighed. The air whistled between his wired jaws. He gingerly took her hand and caressed it lightly. It was the softest flesh he’d ever held and he didn’t want to let go. But after a moment he did, erased the previous words on the pad, and wrote, “I know. It’s okay. I’ll be okay.”
Her breath hitched once. Her exquisite face was expectant. “We still have a date to go on, don’t we, Bubba?”
Bubba nodded and instantly wished he hadn’t moved his head. He wrote, “Might have to puree that steak.”
She chuckled.
“Is he awake?” Brownie stuck his head into the door. “Bubba!” he cried happily. He trotted over to the bed. An odd clicking noise followed him, and Bubba wearily figured Precious snuck in after the ten-year-old. “You look like heck warmed over, Bubba. I brought your dog. I got to go on television. You know they have funny kinds of shops in Times Square? I think folks in New York City were a mite tetchy with me. That fella on the news show sent a lawyer to see me with a piece of paper that said I cain’t come within a hundred yards of him no more.”
A dog’s nose appeared at the side of the bed as Precious leaned up. Bubba let his hand droop so she could sniff it. She licked once, whined, and went under the bed to hide.
“No dogs in the hospital!” Dee Dee Lacour yelled from the hallway and tromped off.
Janie peeked in. “Is Bubba awake?” She smiled brightly. The typically dour eight-year-old seemed to be a completely different person when she smiled. “Bubba! Thank you so much for finding my auntie! She didn’t mean to crack your melon!”
The girl came around on the other side of the bed and touched his hand. “I guess you’re not really a perp after all. You’re really a good guy. That investigator in Dallas was really bothered you found that stalker guy first. Also, I called Judge Perez and told her personally what a hero you are, and I’m pretty sure that made her drop the charges against you.”
Janie stopped suddenly and stared intently at Bubba’s face. “What happened to his- ?” she asked Willodean.
Willodean bit her lip.
Brownie stared at Janie and said, “‘Sup, ba-bee.” He bobbed his head and stuck his chest out in a way that was similar to The PSS.
Janie critically surveyed Brownie as if she had just sighted a criminal of the worst type. After a lengthy examination, she said, “You’re the one who shocked the Christmas Killer with a Taser, and Matt Lauer, too.”
“I’m Bubba’s second cousin,” Brownie said lasciviously. “Do you want to see my stun gun?”
“Yeah,” Janie agreed and they fled the room.
“Does that kid know I’ll kill him if he touches my niece?” Willodean wondered. “Seriously, age does not matter when it comes to Janie’s well-being.”
“Janie can whup him,” Bubba wrote. He dragged the strip across the magnetic board and erased the words. He wrote, “What’s wrong with my face?”
“Um,” Willodean wavered. “You remember what happened when Brownie got hold of some Sharpies before?”
Bubba nodded slowly. Visions of flowers, cat’s whiskers, purple stars, and assorted pithy phrases danced in his head, not unlike sugar plums.
“Well, your cousins brought him yesterday, and plainly, Brownie thought you needed some…decoration.”
Bubba would have sworn, but he really couldn’t open his mouth. He thought several virulent words and phrases instead. He finally wrote, “Do I want to know what Brownie did?”
Willodean smiled slowly. “No, you really don’t, big guy. Let’s just say he used every color in the 24-pack assortment he brought. But don’t worry. It won’t stop me from kissing every part that doesn’t hurt.”
Bubba blushed, although he was aware Willodean couldn’t tell on account of all the drawings on his face. He started to write something on the magnetic board but Willodean gently took it away.
Willodean leaned in and started with his cheek, carefully pressing her lips there. She softly pecked the end of his nose
. And very tenderly she brushed his lips so as not to bother his jaw.
By the time Willodean had finished, Bubba had forgotten about any pain. He’d also forgotten about the Sharpie markers, which was just as well considering what Brownie had done.
The End.
Author’s Notes
Thanks to Mary E. Bates, freelance proofreader of ebooks, printed material, and websites. Contact her at [email protected]. She cleaned it up nicely. Anything that’s left is just my “Bubba style.”
I took liberties with the setup of Dallas and the organizational structure of the Dallas Police Department as well as with the Dallas Parole Office and the Dallas County Jail. I also messed with the prison systems of Texas and possibly some other stuff to suit my story. And I made it so that a Texas driver’s license says the hair and eye color when in truth it only lists height and eye color. (Maybe they used to list hair color until everyone starting dyeing and bleaching.) Please forgive me for my literary initiative.
Thanks to R. Mac Wheeler for reading the manuscript and making it all pretty with all the colors he used to highlight it. He needs a 24-pack assortment of Sharpies! Read about Mac and his writing at http://home.roadrunner.com/~macwheeler/.
It was my sister’s idea to have Miz Demetrice “kill” Elgin Snoddy in various manners. Originally I was going to stick with poison. Now I’m going to have to come up with an endless list of methods for killing off Bubba’s father in perpetuity. Thanks, Cat. I love ya dearly.
There’s a little something I have to confess. (No, I didn’t murder anyone.) In Bubba and the 12 Deadly Days of Christmas I named one of my characters after an aunt. In later reworking’s of the manuscript it ended up that this character became the murderer. (It was not so originally.) So basically, I named the murderer after my aunt. In a purely “duh” moment I thought my aunt would probably never read the book and it wouldn’t be even marginally successful and it didn’t matter. That’s where the “duh” comes in. In any case, my aunt is a very good person and has always been supportive of her family. She is not, do I really need to say this, a murderer and never has been. Sorry, dear.
So in order to make a little amends, I named characters in the third book after the rest of my aunts and uncles. They’re the hunting hounds that belong to Lewis Robson. Do I really need to say that I don’t think of my aunts and uncles as dogs? Well, they’re not, but I thought it was funny. I expect they’ll think it’s funny, too. If not, well, they’ll never speak with me again.
I truly appreciate my husband and daughter putting up with my weirdness while I’m writing. I know I’m a complete goop when I’m into a book. Love you both!
A note to Matt Lauer. Please don’t sue me. It was meant in a wholly good way and not defamatory to you in the least. Plus, it was funny. Also, I changed the arrangement of The Today Show’s set so that Brownie could sit next to Matt as prelude to you-know-what. That isn’t the way the show is, but it is in my imagination.
And thanks to all those wonderful fans on Facebook, on my blog, and from my website who are endlessly supportive, especially when I gripe about bad reviews. Love ya!
If I left anyone out, I sincerely apologize, but thanks all the same.
Caren L. Bevill
About the Author
C.L. Bevill has lived in Texas, Arizona, and Oregon. She once was in the U.S. Army and a graphic illustrator. She holds degrees in social psychology and counseling. She is the author of Bubba and the Dead Woman, Bubba and the 12 Deadly Days of Christmas, Bayou Moon, and Shadow People, among others. Presently she lives with her husband and her daughter in Virginia and continues to constantly write. She can be reached at www.clbevill.com or you can read her blog at www.carwoo.blogspot.com
Other Novels by C.L. Bevill
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Mysteries:
Bubba and the Dead Woman
Bubba and the 12 Deadly Days of Christmas
Bubba and the Missing Woman
Bayou Moon
Paranormal Romance:
Veiled Eyes (Lake People 1)
Disembodied Bones (Lake People 2)
The Moon Trilogy:
Black Moon (The Moon Trilogy 1)
Amber Moon (The Moon Trilogy 2)
Silver Moon (The Moon Trilogy 3)
Cat Clan Novellas:
Harvest Moon
Blood Moon (Coming Soon)
Shadow People
Sea of Dreams
Suspense:
The Flight of the Scarlet Tanager
Black Comedy:
The Life and Death of Bayou Billy
Missile Rats
Chicklet:
Dial ‘M’ For Mascara
Bubba and the Missing Woman Page 29
