Jules, the Bounty Hunter

by Katie Ashley

  Mom nodded. “I’ll come up with you and get you out of the dress.”

  “Oh um, thanks,” I replied. The truth was I just wanted to be alone. Bryn was noticeably absent, and I could only imagine she was with Jackson, which made me feel nauseated as well as pissed off.

  As we started up the stairs, Mom nudged me. I quickly turned back around and plastered on my best fake smile. “Night Aunt Lenore.” She responded with a nod and a swig of champagne. “And goodnight to you, Aunt Vivian. Thank you so much for helping give my party.”

  She smiled. “You’re welcome, sugar. You have sweet dreams.”

  When I got into the bedroom, Mom closed the door behind us. “So did you have a nice time after all?” she asked, as she started on the buttons along the back of my dress.

  “You mean besides knocking drinks on people and bringing up family skeletons?” I asked with a smile.

  Mom chuckled. “Yes, in spite of all that.”

  I shrugged. “I mean, it was different with the band and dancing. But it didn’t change my mind about anything. Big dresses and parties just aren’t me.”

  “I understand how you feel.”

  I whirled around, causing Mom to almost rip the fabric on my dress. “You do?”

  She nodded. “There was a time when I felt just like you did. I hated fancy parties and society gatherings.” Mom hesitated before adding, “You know, Savannah isn’t all big dresses and parties as you say. I know you haven’t been here long and don’t know all that the city has to offer, but it can be such a wonderful place to live.”

  At the word “live”, I tensed. Mom must have noticed because she quickly said, “And Georgia has some of the best colleges in the country. Why there’s Agnes Scott in Atlanta and Mercer in Macon, and the University of Georgia has an excellent law program.”

  With the last button, the dress fell away to make a chiffon and satin puddle on the floor. I felt more exposed by the conversation than I did in my bustier and underwear. I’d been in Savannah less than a week, and Mom was already trying to stake her claim on me. I grabbed my robe from the bed. “I’ll have to think about it,” I murmured.

  It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but she nodded anyway. Her hands went to my hair, and she started taking out the bobby pins. “Now don’t forget to wash and cleanse you face, Julianne. I know you have a good head on your shoulders, but a woman can have brains and beauty.”

  Before I thought the better of it, I mused, “Yeah, Dad says the same thing. But he also says, ‘Julianne, your mother might’ve been the best looking woman in the entire state of Georgia, but it was that head of hers that drove me crazy!’”

  Mom snatched her hands from my head as if she’d been scalded by hot water. We stood there for an awkward moment. “N-Nathaniel says nice things about me?”

  “Yeah, all the time. Why wouldn’t he?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe for what I did to him—you know, leaving him and all.”

  “Dad’s a loving and forgiving person. He would never be vindictive or hold grudges, even when he should.”

  Pain radiated in her eyes, and she turned away. “Don’t forget to wash your face, Julianne.” And without another word, she fled from the room.

  I slipped into my pajamas. Although the bed screamed my name, I went into the bathroom and washed my face, just like Mom asked. With my hatred of fashion and parties, I was already a big enough disappointment that I didn’t want to add anything else to it.

  Finally, I collapsed into the bed. After I turned my light off, I glanced at my cell phone. I had three messages. The first was from Dad. “Hey sweetheart, the boys said you called while I was with Tom. Sorry I missed you. Hope you’re having fun at the party. Love you.”

  The next was from Remy and Colt. “Hey Little Sis, did you take our advice?” Remy asked. “Because if it worked, we’ve decided to start charging by the hour!” Colt joked. I rolled my eyes and laughed in spite of myself.

  Then there was rustling at the beginning, and Big Mama grumbling, “No, William I didn’t get her. It’s that voicemail nonsense.” Realizing she was being recorded, she cleared her throat. “Oh, um, Julianne, I don’t like talking to this here machine of yours. I tried the house but that aunt of yours said you were indisposed at some fancy schmancy party. Well, no matter. Me and Granddaddy just wanted to send our love and tell you we miss ya!” She made a kissy noise into the phone and hung up.

  I cradled the phone to my heart, overcome by homesickness. But at the same time, hearing from my family was the final bright spot I needed in a pretty crappy evening.

  Chapter Nine

  After tossing and turning for an hour or so, I finally gave up and decided to go downstairs for some milk. I crept down the back staircase and into the kitchen. Surprisingly, I found the light on, and Aunt Vivian sitting at the table.

  “Hello there,” she said with a smile. She appeared almost comical with her hair net on and a sheen of pink moisturizing cream on her face. “Did the insomnia bug bite you too?”

  “Among other things,” I replied, as I rifled through the fridge. I decided on milk and some of the mini quiches leftover from the party.

  When I sat down at the table, Aunt Vivian cocked her head at me. “All right, give it to me straight. What did you really think of the party?”

  “Honestly, I thought it was pretty cool. I mean, all those people coming out just for me. That’s a big ego trip.”

  “But you found a lot of it silly and pointless, and some of the people pretentious assholes?”

  I almost choked on one of my mini-quiches. After downing it with some milk, I grinned. “Yeah, that, too.”

  Aunt Viv winked at me as she got up to refill her gin and tonic. “Truth be told, I think there’s only a select few that actually enjoy every moment of society parties. For me, it’s all about getting gussied up in a new dress and cutting a rusty out on the dance floor.”

  “Cutting a rusty?” I laughed.

  “Just a Southern euphemism, honey,” Aunt Vivian replied as she poured her drink. After taking a long sip, she smiled. “I have to say I was pretty proud of you tonight. You looked gorgeous, you danced beautifully, and you even managed to behave.”

  “Tell that to Bryn and her snob squad,” I replied.

  Aunt Vivian narrowed her eyes over her glass. “Were those little bitches giving you a hard time?”

  “Yeah, but it’s not like I didn’t expect it. I mean, they’re total clichés of what everyone thinks rich girls are. I’m surprised they don’t get nose bleeds from keeping their noses so high in the air.” I blew the stray strands of hair out of my eyes. “The only half-way decent person I’ve met is Jackson.”

  Nodding, Aunt Vivian said, “Trust me. I’d much rather see you and Jackson Marshall together. But then again, there’s that whole weird thing between your parents.”

  “Huh?”

  She gave me an exasperated look. “I meant it might have been weird knowing that your parents had an affair.”

  Milk spewed out of my mouth, showering the table. I didn’t bother wiping it up. Instead, I stared at Aunt Vivian. “Are you saying that Mom and Emmett Marshall had an affair?”

  She refused to meet my questioning eyes. “I thought you knew.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Um, the damage is already done. When did it happen? Before Dad? After Dad?”

  Aunt Vivian traced the mouth of her glass with a fingertip. “During.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Emmett was the reason why your mother didn’t come back home.”

  My hand flew to my mouth. “Mom left Dad for him?” I whispered.

  Nodding sadly, she got up and grabbed some paper towels to mop up my milk mess. “They started seeing each other shortly after she got here. At first, I think Annabel was just doing it as rebellion—a way to punish your father for being busy all the time with his business. But then it became much, much more.”

  “How long did
it last?”

  Aunt Vivian finished blotting up the milk. “It’s been on and off for the last six years. It ended for good just before Emmett got in trouble with the law.”

  Feeling like I was going to hurl, I pushed the half-eaten plate of quiche away from me. I could not believe the bail jumper I was tracking had been my mom’s boyfriend. I closed my eyes, trying to absorb the magnitude of what had just been thrown at me. A couple of things just didn’t add up. “Okay, time out for a second. How is it possible that Mom and Lynette are on speaking terms?”

  “The Marshalls didn’t divorce over the affair.”

  “They didn’t?”

  Aunt Viv shook her head as she threw the soggy paper towels away. “Frankly, Lynnette didn’t care one iota about Emmett and Annabel. The truth was she’d been carrying on for years with another man who would never leave his wife.”

  “And just because of that, all is forgiven and they hang out at the same parties?”

  “Yes, that’s just the way it’s always been done.”

  “That’s bullshit!”

  “Julianne—”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I huffed, “Excuse me for saying it, but it’s the truth. What are good manners and breeding for when everyone is screwing around with everyone else? Not to mention hugging you up and then knifing you in the back?”

  “That’s not entirely the way it is.”

  “Sounds like it to me.”

  Aunt Viv sighed. “I’m very sorry I said anything.”

  A question weighed heavy on my mind for more than one reason. “Does Dad know?”

  “No, not that I know of.”

  I didn’t know whether to believe her. Instead, I knew one person who I could ask that would know without a shadow of a doubt. I rose out of my chair. “I’m going back to bed now.”

  Aunt Vivian nodded. “I’m so sorry, Julianne.”

  “Don’t be. I’m so sick of secrets. It’s about time people started telling the truth around here.” At her forlorn expression, I patted her arm, and then headed up the back staircase.

  The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed the half hour. It was 12:30. That meant it was 10:30 in Texas, but I knew Big Mama would still be awake. She loved to burn the midnight oil, as she said.

  She answered on the third ring. “Julianne, what’s wrong?” she demanded without even a hello.

  “Nothing. I was just calling you back, that’s all.”

  Big Mama harrumphed into the phone. “It’s after midnight out there. Something has to be up for you to be calling this late.”

  “Look, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be absolutely honest with me.”

  “All right.”

  I eased down on the bed and drew in a breath. “Does Dad know that Mom had an affair with a man in Savannah?”

  Big Mama was uncharacteristically silent. “Um hello?’ I repeated.

  “Who told you such a thing?”

  My lungs constricted, and I gasped for breath. “So he does know?”

  “No, no, that’s not what I meant. He doesn’t know.”

  My brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait what?”

  “Answer my question first,” Big Mama demanded.

  “Fine. Aunt Vivian mentioned that it might’ve been awkward for me and Jackson Marshall to date since our parents had an affair.”

  Big Mama grumbled some words into the phone. She’d never been a fan of Aunt Vivian or Lenore, especially after Mom left home. I guess she saw them as aiding and abetting the enemy or something. “All right, here is the truth. When your mother refused to come home all those years ago, Granddaddy and I hired a private detective to find out what was going on.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  “But why didn’t Dad do that?” I asked.

  “Your father would never have imagined doing something so underhanded in regards to your mother. He loved and trusted her.”

  “But you and Granddaddy didn’t?”

  “Of course not. Any woman who runs off from her husband and kids is up to something, and Annabel was,” Big Mama replied.

  “And the detective sent you pictures or something?”

  “Unfortunately yes. But we destroyed them, and the negatives. We never mentioned it to your father. If he ever suspected anything, he never mentioned it.”

  “I see.”

  “Are you okay with all this, Julianne?” Big Mama asked.

  “I’m fine. I mean, I’m not thrilled with the idea of finding out Mom cheated. Not to mention it’s epically weird considering he’s the bail jumper I’m trying to track.”

  Big Mama gasped. “Are you serious?”

  “Unfortunately yes.”

  “Oh dear,” she murmured.

  “Tell me about it,” I replied as I yawned.

  “You better get your tail into bed, and so should I. We’re getting up mighty early in the morning to leave for Georgia.”

  “Okay, I will.” I hesitated before asking, “So you won’t say anything to Dad, right?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Good. And you guys be careful coming out here. I’m so excited to be seeing you soon!”

  “We will. And don’t you worry about that horse of yours. Jamie has promised to take extra good care of him.”

  I smiled. Scout, my horse, was one of my most prized possessions. I’d been missing her every day since I’d left. I knew she’d be in good hands with my cousin and best friend, Jamie.

  “Night, Julianne.”

  “Night, Big Mama.”

  Exhausted, I fell onto the bed. I didn’t bother pulling the covers over me. Instead, I groped in the dark for my iPod and then popped the buds in my ear. As the instrumental score from Lord of the Rings filled my mind, I finally slipped into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  Sunlight barely streaked through the wooden blinds when I woke up. I glanced at my phone, and I saw it was a little after six. Prime running time before it got too hot outside. But then the previous night’s revelations hit me. “Oh shit,” I murmured. Pulling the covers over my head, I groaned. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

  As I lay there bemoaning my crappy lot in life, it suddenly hit me. Dad had always taught me and the boys to start with a jumper’s inner circle—someone who might know how to trip the jumper up. Now it was a certainty that Mom had a tie to Emmett Marshall, and it was a fairly recent one. I needed to get into her room to look for clues of his whereabouts. I just had to wait for the best time . . .

  I went for my usual run, and fortunately, I didn’t have a Jackson sighting along my route. When I got back home and hopped in the shower, I plotted out how I was going to invade Mom’s room. It was going to be tricky in a house with three other women as well as a housekeeper. I knew I had to bide my time until the right moment—hopefully sometime after breakfast.

  After I’d eaten, I hung around upstairs reading and listening to music, waiting for Mom and the others to leave. Unfortunately, Aunt Lenore took to bed with one of her migraines (in other words, a hideous hangover from a late-night gathering on some rich bitch’s party boat).

  When I heard the front door close and the sound of the car pulling away, I tiptoed out of my room and down to Mom’s. My hand hesitated momentarily over the doorknob before I pushed it open. Thankfully, I found it empty, and I could count on it being that way for the next hour while Alice busied herself with the breakfast dishes.

  Craning my neck, I gazed up and down the hallway. The coast was clear. I stepped back inside and eased Mom’s door shut. Just like most of the bedrooms in the house, Mom had a suite of rooms. A sitting room held a couch and loveseat along with an antique mahogany desk. Past the sitting room was her bedroom and bathroom.

  The desk was relatively neat. A laptop sat in the middle along with a pile of papers, flyers and magazines. Six sterling silver frames in various sizes also adorned the desk. I felt a tug at my heart when I noticed four of the pictures were of the b
oys and me. Noticeably absent were any pictures of my father.

  When I plopped down in the high-back chair, it creaked and groaned. I held my breath, praying the noise wouldn’t alert someone to my presence. After a few seconds without anyone busting in, I started riffling through the papers.

  “Boring, boring, boring,” I muttered at the society clippings and bills littering the desk. At the sight of Mom’s date book, I abandoned the papers and flipped open the cover. It was filled with party dates, fundraisers, and other society functions. My eyes flickered over all the names and numbers in the address section. While Lynette Marshall had an entry, there wasn’t anything for Emmett.

  “Bummer,” I grumbled.

  Then I started on in on the desk drawers. I found everything from note cards embossed with my mother’s initials to an antique pistol as well as normal office supplies like paperclips and rubber bands.

  At the very bottom of one of the drawers, I found a framed wedding picture of Mom and Dad. Hmm, guess she wasn’t quite as over Dad as she liked to let on. I mean, a woman who really hated her ex might’ve burned the picture.

  At the sound of someone in the hallway, I quickly shoved the desk drawers closed and sprinted over to the loveseat. I had just collapsed on it when Mom opened the door. Her arms were laden down with shopping bags.

  She jumped at the sight of me. “What are you doing, Julianne?”

  “I wanted to talk to you.”

  Mom put her packages down on the coffee table. “About what?”

  “Emmett Marshall.”

  Her shocked gaze snapped to mine. “And what do you want to know about him?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I want to hear it directly from you—the truth, that is. Did you leave Dad and us for Emmett Marshall?”

  A strangled cry erupted from Mom’s lips. “How could you…Your father doesn’t even know about him!”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “You asked your father about him?” she demanded, her eyes widening.

  “No, I asked Big Mama. She said that Dad had no idea there was another man. That he might’ve suspected it, but he’d never let on.”