Blood Loss - A Magnolia Novel

by Ashley Fontainne

  “She’s a tough girl, LiAnn. Just like you. She’ll find her way, just, give her time. Between all the stress of being undercover for almost two years, the breakup with Cal, moving here, and then damn near getting killed by that mafia fucker, it’s a wonder she’s handling things as well as she is. I know I wouldn’t be able to.”

  Staring at the man she’d loved ever since the day she started working in his department over thirty years ago, LiAnn was overcome with the rush of love. “Wrong. You’re just as tough and loveable as my daughter. It’s why you’ve always been my better half.”

  Andrew moved closer, gathering LiAnn into his arms. “Keep talking like that and I’ll forget your father’s inside the house and ravish you right here.”

  Their kiss was long, needy, and full of passion, completely obliterating LiAnn’s worries about whether any minute she’d wake up and discover he wasn’t really with her and it was all a dream. Melting into his arms, she felt like a teenager again, full of lust, love, and giddiness, making her forget all about the little voice of doubt constantly whispering in the back of her mind.

  Pulling away, Andrew broke the magical moment. “Cold shower, here I come then it’s off to the store for a grocery run!”

  A bit dizzy from the interaction, LiAnn nodded in agreement while watching the love of her life disappear inside. God, why did she wait so long and turn down his proposal years ago? She’d been a stubborn fool, terrified of bringing a new man into Karina’s life after the disastrous choice she’d made in choosing a mate with Karina’s father, Kurt. But that was ages ago, back when she’d been a headstrong, bull of a woman, unwilling to listen to the advice of others, determined to forge her own path in the world.

  Too bad the path she originally picked included a rock musician fond of drugs.

  Sighing, LiAnn returned to the swing and took a long sip of tepid coffee. Mistakes of the past couldn’t be changed, and it was way beyond the time to move on. Closing her eyes, she let the sounds of squirrels and birds busying themselves with morning activities filter in. They made her smile, taking her memories back to the first day she arrived in Arkansas last summer with her daughter, their long journey finally over as they acclimated to the move from California to Arkansas...

  …Though it had only been less than two years since she’d seen her parents, Junior and Ruth Tuck, LiAnn was astonished at how much they’d aged. They were both underweight and sported thinning, stark white hair. LiAnn glanced at her mom’s hands and noticed the age spots looked darker, and bigger. The frail skin was pulled tight, the bluish-green hue of her veins more pronounced.

  What bothered LiAnn the most was the tremors in her father’s gnarled hands. She watched him pick up his glass of tea to bring to his lips, wincing when she saw how much the glass shook. “Pop, maybe we should all call it a night? I don’t want you getting overtired. We have plenty of time to catch up tomorrow.”

  “Not even here a day and already started to crow about my health? You sound just like your ma. I’m fine, just not as robust as I used to be. It’s called gettin’ long in the tooth, baby girl. Ain’t none of us on this earth ever been made to live forever.”

  Ruth interjected. “Don’t you worry ’bout him, darlin’. He’s just extra cranky at night. It’s ’cause he works himself into exhaustion around here each day. If he’d just hire some help…”

  “Ruth, don’t start in on that again. This is my land, and I ain’t gonna have some strangers trompin’ all around it. Period.”

  LiAnn sensed the tension in the air. The last thing she wanted to do was upset either of them. “Well, you don’t need to worry about that now, Pop. Karina and I are here to help. You’ll just need to teach us what we need to do. We're fast learners. You point and we’ll jump.”

  “That’s right. I’ll turn you city girls into country chicks in no time. It’s hard work, but rewardin’. First time you taste a meal ya grew with yer own hands, ya ain’t never gonna want to eat anythin’ else. I guarantee it,” Junior replied.

  LiAnn smiled and reached over and patted her father’s thin shoulder. “I promise, we won’t disappoint either of you. Now, it’s late and I’m exhausted from the car ride. Let’s hit the sack. What time do we need to be up tomorrow?”

  “We get up when the rooster does. Don’t need no alarm clock ’round here. Rocky crows the same time each mornin’,” Ruth said as they all walked inside.

  LiAnn followed her mother to the small kitchen and helped put away the food and clear the dishes. She could hear her father in the other room, talking to Karina and cooing to Ranger. The sound of the big dog’s tail as it thumped a loud echo on the hardwood floor. The verbal sparring about the best handgun to use between her daughter and father made LiAnn smile.

  “Got your room all fixed up. If ya need another blanket, they’re in the bathroom closet. Oh, and the truck with your belongin’s will be here tomorrow. So, don’t you and Karina fret none about workin’ around here tomorrow. Y’all be busy unpackin’ for a few days, I suspect. Your daddy and I will handle the day-to-day chores until you two get all settled in. Okay?”

  LiAnn nodded in agreement, her attention pulled to the small television on the counter and the the scrolling headline. Intrigued, LiAnn turned up the volume.

  …Shane Simmons was denied bail this morning by Circuit Court Judge Henry Paxton. He was formally charged with first degree murder in the grisly death of Raymond “Ray-Ray” D’Nucci, along with kidnapping, aggravated robbery, and arson. His girlfriend, Renee Clements, was also charged as an accessory in the case. The investigation concluded Ms. Clements helped dispose of the gun and set fire to Mr. D’Nucci’s residence, and tried to sell some of Mr. D’Nucci’s jewelry at a pawn shop in Little Rock.

  His funeral is set for Saturday at three p.m. at St. Michael’s Church in Hot Springs….

  LiAnn shook her head in disgust as she turned the volume back down. “Guess it doesn’t matter where you live, crime never takes a break.”

  Ruth’s brows crushed together with sadness. “Oh, it’s been awful. The story’s been all over the news the last few days. It’s an ugly, ugly mess. Course, crime always is. The news report yesterday said the girl used to date the young man, and knew he had money and lots of jewelry. Got her new beau to help her relieve her ex of some of his stuff, then I guess things went bad from there. They robbed him, shot him, cut him up, and torched his place. The report said only some of his burnt body was recovered at the scene. Such a shame. People killin’ each other over material things. What’s this world comin’ to? Ain’t they ever heard of workin’ for what they want?”

  LiAnn queried, “He was dismembered? Oh, wow, that isn’t something you hear often. Sounds more like a mob tactic to me. With a last name like D’Nucci, it would make sense. Then again, if it were a mob hit, there would be no corpse left to find. But, judging by the looks of the mugshots, those two surely aren’t in the Mafia. I’d say drugs were involved. They both had that zombie-meth look. Can’t tell you how many cases our division worked that centered on drugs. Meth is the worst of them. People turn their brains to mush on the stuff, and don’t care how they come by cash to buy more. I don’t know of one state that isn’t suffering because of the white poison.”

  Ruth fiddled with the kerchief around her neck. “Just last month, there were over five arrests here in Grant County alone of people cookin’ that mess out in the woods. Scary times, indeed.”

  “Is it really that bad, and that close?”

  “Oh yes,” Ruth replied in a quiet whisper. “Why, just last year, ol’ Cecil Pickard got shot and almost died. He was settin’ up his deer stand, on his own property mind you, when two hoodlums attacked him. Beat him up pretty bad, tryin’ to scare him into leavin’ and never comin’ back. But ol’ Pick, if ya recall, honey, is stubborn as a mule with its butt stuck in the mud. He let that mouth of his take over. That’s when they shot him and left him for dead. It’s only by the grace of God he’s still pullin’ in air. His son got worried when
he didn’t come back home that night. Went out searchin’ for him, found him, and then hauled him to the hospital. Doc said one more hour and it woulda been lights out for good.”

  A wave of anger hit LiAnn right in the gut. Though it had been years since she’d seen Mr. Pickard, she knew how close her father was to him. The two men grew up together and even joined the Navy on the same day. To say Cecil Pickard was her father’s closest friend would have been an understatement. “Poor Cecil! Did the police catch the shooter?”

  Ruth shook her head. “Nope. Word around town is them boys are connected to some high rankin’ muckety-mucks who’s keepin’ them safe from payin’ for their crimes. Don’t rightly know if that’s true or not, but it don’t matter. I insisted your father’s huntin’ days are over.”

  “How’s Mr. Pickard holding up, Mom? Did he fully recover?”

  A shadow of sadness made the creases and wrinkles in the frail skin around Ruth’s face more pronounced. “Oh, he recovered from his injuries to his body, but the one to his heart, no. I ain’t never seen a man turn into such a husk of his former self so quickly.”

  Perplexed, LiAnn cocked her head and replied, “His heart? What do you mean?”

  Ruth hesitated, her hands clasped together in a tight knot on the table. “Well, you remember Cecil’s wife passed on years ago, right?” LiAnn nodded her head and motioned for her to continue. “After she died, it was just Cecil and his son, Steve. No more kin left in the family. Steve, well, he never married and Cecil was an only child after his baby sis passed on. So, they were all each other had left. When Cecil nearly died, Steve went into a frenzy.”

  LiAnn tried to bring up fuzzy memories of stories about Cecil and Steve. A random one popped up. Steve was a recovering alcoholic. “Oh no, did Steve start drinking again?”

  “Yes. Hard. Three weeks after Cecil was released from the hospital, Steve was killed in an accident. Rolled his truck off Highway 35 after pullin’ a bender. It’s just a miracle he didn’t kill or hurt anyone else.”

  “How awful!”

  Ruth leaned in and motioned for LiAnn to do the same. “After that, Cecil just gave up. He quit talkin’ to anyone, includin’ your daddy. Less than two months after Steve’s funeral, Cecil sold all his property and moved to The Magnolia, a retirement community in Hot Springs. Told us he couldn’t stand bein’ around all the things remindin’ him of his past. I tell ya, it’s been hard on us all. You know he and your daddy are quite close.”

  LiAnn saw the pain reflected in her mother’s cloudy blue eyes. “Is that why Pop started making noises about moving into The Magnolia House? To be closer to Cecil?”

  Ruth let out a long sigh while she stared out the window. “Partly. The other part is guilt. The way your daddy sees things, he owes Cecil.”

  Confused, LiAnn asked, “Owes him? What do you mean?”

  Unable to stay seated any longer, Ruth rose and went to the sink, pretending to wash already clean dishes. “The day Cecil went out in the woods, your daddy was supposed to go with him. He didn’t because the truck wouldn’t start. He spent most of the day tinkerin’ with it before he got it runnin.’ Your daddy just can’t get past it. Thinks it’s somehow his fault his friend got shot. He ain’t never said that, but I can see it in his eyes. All those years they watched each other’s back durin’ the war, keepin’ each other alive, out of harm’s way, don’t seem to matter none. Even after all this time, your daddy still feels it’s his job to watch over Cecil.”

  “Now, that’s just crazy! Pop needs to lay the blame right where it belongs, which is on the shoulders of the cowards who shot Cecil. Good grief, Pop could have been shot, too!”

  “He don’t see it that way. He thinks he coulda talked their way out of the pickle. Maybe could've kept Cecil from spoutin’ and sputterin’ and they coulda left without blood bein’ shed. I told him I thought that was a load of swill, but it’s stuck in his craw. Ain’t nothin’ gonna dislodge it.”

  LiAnn let out a grunt. “Well, I'll just convince him otherwise. Almost sounds to me like he is suffering from survivor’s guilt, or something like it. I mean, I understand how close he is to Cecil, but none of what happened to him Pop could have stopped.”

  Ruth’s smile was tinged with bitterness. “Honey, once that man’s mind is set, ain’t nothin’ anyone says gonna change it.”

  “Nice, daughter. Sittin’ out here enjoyin’ some coffee when you know I can’t have any!”

  LiAnn jerked then grinned at her father, his snowy white hair gently swaying in the morning breeze, still clad in his pajamas. “Hey, I tried to be discreet and respectful by coming outside.”

  Junior sat on the chair opposite from his daughter. “I’m just teasin’ you girl. You looked mighty intense starin’ off into the mornin’ mist. It seemed a bit of humor was necessary. You were thinkin’ about what we almost lost, weren’t you?”

  Steadying herself to keep her voice even, LiAnn responded, “What we did lose, yes. My God, it was everything!”

  Pulling out a slender cigar, Junior lit the tip, inhaling slowly. He heard LiAnn groan so he waved his hand to silence her protests. “We lost material possessions that can be replaced. We didn’t lose a damn thing that matters, not even that hairy fleabag Karina loves so much.”

  LiAnn grinned. “You’ve always had such a way with words, Pop. Direct and to the point.”

  Puffing away on the cigar, Junior returned the grin. “Ain’t no other way to be, darlin’. My three favorite gals are still around. Anythin’ else added to the mix is just bonus material. So, what time do we need to leave?”

  Glancing at her watch, LiAnn answered, “In about thirty minutes.”

  “Do you mind if we leave a bit earlier? I’d like to make a stop at the house and see how the construction’s comin’ along.”

  “Of course not Pop. I’m ready when you are.”

  Stubbing out the cigar in the ashtray, Junior asked, “Will Andrew be joinin’ us today?”

  “No. He’s got some errands to run so it’ll be just the two of us.”

  Reaching for the screen door, Junior winked. “Good. I like the man but sometimes, a dad needs to spend quality time with his offspring. Besides, I don’t want him around when I hold your hand like a little kid when the nurse pokes me with a needle. Might lose my man card.”

  Before LiAnn had a chance to respond, her father disappeared inside. Smiling as she stared out across the field, the first orange and yellow rays of a new day peeking through the trees to the east, LiAnn wiped a straggler tear of happiness from her cheek as she counted her blessings.

  Her daughter was alive; her parents were in fair health, and the love of her life traipsed across the country to be by her side. The man freaking retired and drove all the way across the country without even giving her one small hint of his plans. There wasn’t a thing she could think of that would make retirement any better.

  Chapter 3

  Hot Springs, Arkansas – Thursday, March 2, 2017 – 8:30 a.m.

  “I’m tellin’ ya Miss Karina, the food was great before, but ever since y’all took over, it’s so dang delicious! I can’t control myself every time I smell it. I swear I’ve gained twenty pounds!”

  Karina wiped a strand of hair from her face and smiled at Wiley Wilson while refilling his coffee. Wiley and Seth Thomas were the final two diners of the morning. Mealtimes were her favorite part of the day. They gave her a chance to escape her confining office full of dinging emails, the constant ringing phone, and the stressors of running the day-to-day activities of an independent-living facility made quasi-famous by the previous owners. Ten residents moved out after what happened, and more than half the staff quit. The press coverage and constant blurbs on the news were too much for them to handle. During the first four months, Karina and LiAnn worried the business might fold from loss of revenue and all the money Cecil Pickard spent renovating the place, yet in the past month, six new residents moved in, relieving some of the financial strain.

  So, K
arina relished the simple tasks of serving meals, cleaning rooms, and helping Gram out in the kitchen on occasion. She even learned to bake peach pie, and it passed the stringent taste-bud test of Grampa and Bo. She enjoyed the sweet elderly residents and the interactions filled up her reserves depleted by overwhelming paperwork.

  Besides Cecil Pickard, Wiley was fast becoming her favorite resident at The Magnolia. The past five-plus months of being around him every day, listening to his funny stories, watching his bowlegged gait swagger down the hallways, and the way his brows knitted together while trying to paint, endeared the old man to her heart. He was like Grampa only with no filter.

  Wiley was witty, full of energy, and had a mouth that never hesitated to spit out whatever was on his mind. Karina adored that about him.

  “Twenty pounds? Yikes, Mr. Wilson. Maybe I should stop teaching painting and switch to exercise classes? I certainly stand no shot of getting Gram out of the kitchen, so if you want your waistband to slim down, exercise is your only hope. As Grampa likes to say, she’s in her element there. The woman loves to cook, plus it’s given her something to do to keep busy after all that happened. Grampa might have his hands full trying to make her leave here when the house is finished.”

  “Are they close to completion?” Seth asked. “I mean, after the pile of charred rubble of the old place and all the damage, can they be? This fast?”

  “Yep. According to Grampa and Mom, another month and it will be ready for move-in. The insurance adjuster has been great, though I think the fast pace is because he feared bad press coverage. I mean, how awful would it look for the insurance company not to bend over backward to help an elderly couple out after the mob blew up their home?”

  “True. Good motivation,” Seth responded.

  “Mr. Wilson, you enjoy all Gram’s food while you have the chance. Don’t worry though. Mom and I interviewed several candidates last week for the chef’s position. We’ll make sure to hire a good one.”