Twisted Tales of Mayhem

by Sapphire Knight

  “Excuse me, miss,” I said, gently stepping in front of the bombshell beauty. She slipped me like a prize fighter and continued her strident path upward. I remember having the distinct feeling that if she could have walked directly through me, she would have.

  I followed right behind and tried again, “Excuse me, miss. I really don’t mean to be a bother, but—”

  “Too late,” she replied without looking at me or breaking stride.

  “I don’t want you to think I’m some sort of creep or something—”

  “Too late,” she said again, this time pouring on her perfect Georgia drawl.

  “It’s just that you look like you work here and I’m trying to find out where I need to go in order to collect my two hundred dollars.”

  Finally, the angel stopped, slowly turned, looked directly at me and asked, “Was that a Monopoly joke?”

  “Yes, it was,” I said with a smile, hoping my witty charm would gain the affection of this enchantress.

  “My boss is waiting for these files and I’m technically very off the clock, despite leaving a date in order to bring these documents to him, I know he’ll still find a reason to be angry with me once I step foot in his office. So, although I have absolutely no interest in talking with you, I also really don’t want to go inside that building either. So, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to use the next minute of my time explaining something to you to serve as my own personal stall tactic.”

  She was dressing me down with just the perfect amount of southern charm and I wanted more. In fact, I wanted this woman to boss me around for the rest of my natural days on earth. For some reason I almost felt like she had the right to, as if we somehow already knew each other, perfectly.

  As she continued, I tried my hardest to study every detail about her. If I somehow failed to win this woman’s heart, I wanted to remember everything about her. If for no other reason than to have a standard of perfection to measure all other women by.

  “Your attempt at a Monopoly joke, while well appreciated, was a failure in two ways.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I have older brothers and happen to be an expert at Monopoly, so I was going to point out where your joke went sideways.”

  The courthouse is just next door. I wonder if it’s too early to ask this woman to marry me. That would be tricky since I don’t even know her name.

  “Excuse me ma’am but could I be so bold as to ask you for your name?”

  She sighed before saying, “It’s Grace.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Excuse me?” Not Grace replied.

  “Please don’t get me wrong ma’am, Grace is a perfectly fine name and all. Quite beautiful, but not nearly beautiful enough to describe such a treasure as yourself.”

  Not Grace scowled. “I’m a treasure?”

  “Indeed, you are. Something rare and beautiful,” I said, turning up all the southern charm I could muster.

  “I suppose next you’ll tell me that I’m a diamond?”

  “No ma’am,” I stated flatly.

  “Oh? Aren’t diamonds the most valuable?”

  “A diamond is a lump of coal formed from pressure and time, and that’s not you at all, is it? No, you are a new treasure. A young beauty formed from grit and finesse. You, my darling are a Pearl.”

  I backed up a half step and extended my hand, which, to my surprise, she took.

  “Pleased to meet you Pearl, my name’s Duke. Please continue,” I said with a slight bow, before reluctantly releasing her hand from mine.

  “As…as… I was saying, your Monopoly joke was all wrong,” Pearl continued, clearly a little off guard.

  “How’s that?” I asked.

  “First of all, you don’t collect two hundred dollars when you get out of jail. You get it when you pass GO. Secondly, making a pass at a woman by admitting you just got out of jail might not be the best way to start.”

  “How am I doing now?” I asked.

  “Looking like you just got out of jail is strike two.”

  “We’re playing by baseball rules, huh? Good. That means I have one last chance before I strike out.”

  “I’m afraid being in a motorcycle gang is strike three, Easy Rider.”

  “Okay, now it’s time for me to hip you to a couple of things,” I said. “The guys in Easy Rider weren’t in a biker gang and neither am I.”

  “Who are those guys, then? Your sewing circle?” Pearl pointed to the Burning Saints, all of whom had taken interest in our conversation. Mr. Bird stood with the passenger door of his Lincoln swung wide open as if there was any way in hell I was going with him. I didn’t blame him for fearing my father’s wrath by going home empty handed and bloodless.

  “I met those guys while temporarily incarcerated due to a police error.”

  “A police error?” Pearl asked.

  “Yes ma’am. But the sheriff has apologized and I’m free to go about my evening, which I was hoping you would join me in enjoying.”

  “The sheriff apologized?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “To you?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Sheriff Early?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Sheriff Don Early?”

  I nodded. “The one and the same.”

  “Okay, now I know you’re full of malarkey.”

  “Malarkey?” I asked, unable to stifle a laugh. “Miss Pearl, I’m sure you are one-hundred percent correct in your assessment of my appearance. But I would sincerely like the opportunity to accompany you to a Saturday evening on the town.”

  “You did hear me say I left a date to bring these files to my boss, right?”

  “I did, but the guy sounds like a clod. You’d have more fun with me, I promise.”

  “How could you know that Chas is a clod? I didn’t even bring him up.”

  “But you’re not denying it. Plus, his name is Chas. That’s a clod name.”

  For the first time, I could see Pearl fighting back a smile and I knew I had a shot. I also remember the distinct feeling that we’d met before.

  “Duke! We’re gonna head out to the impound lot. You comin’?” Cutter called out.

  “You go on, I’ll catch up,” I yelled back.

  “I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Pearl said.

  “Wouldn’t what?”

  “Stick around on my account. I’m going inside now, so you should probably leave with your friends.”

  “Oh, they aren’t my friends. Not exactly, anyway. Just some guys I met while enjoying the fine accommodations of your lovely jail.”

  “Regardless,” Pearl said. “I really must be going and so should you.” She turned and started back up the stairs, giving me a fantastic view of her ass, and it was without a doubt, the finest backside I’d ever seen.

  “Wait, you never answered my question,” I called out to her.

  “What question?” she asked without turning around.

  “Will you go out with me tonight?”

  “Goodnight, Mr. Duke,” she said with a wave before disappearing through the front doors of the building.

  “I’m gonna marry that woman,” I said out loud to no one, before double-timing it to catch up with the Burning Saints, ignoring Mr. Bird’s pathetic cries of objection as I started off down the street.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Pearl

  “You’re late!” an all too familiar voice bellowed from behind a battered green, government issue, metal desk. I barely had time to shake off the brief but intense interaction with the ruggedly handsome biker as I entered my boss’s office. I typically wasn’t drawn toward the criminal element, but there was something about the man’s shaggy hair and leathers that affected me in unexpected ways. I don’t know what possessed me to give him the time of day, let alone talk to him in a such a familiar way.

  “How can I be late, when I’m not even supposed to be here tonight?” I asked, carefully placing the files squarely on top of the
desk.

  “Law enforcement never sleeps. You know that, Grace.”

  “I wasn’t sleeping. I was on a date, and you know that perfectly well,” I replied.

  “I’m not sure I like that Waterford boy. There’s something about him I don’t trust.”

  “You don’t trust anyone, and besides, my love life is none of your business.”

  “Don’t say “love life” in front of your father, missy. It’s disrespectful. And I’ll be the judge, jury, and blessed executioner when it comes to who is and isn’t good enough for my little girl.”

  “I’m not your little—”

  “Don’t you sass me,” my father chided as if I was still six years old and in pigtails, thus nullifying my objection entirely.

  “Yes, Daddy,” I replied in hopes of avoiding any further conversation on this subject.

  “Good, now since you’re here—”

  “Did you even need these files?” I interrupted. “Or was this just your way of calling me back into work. Or worse? Did you do this to bust up my date with Chas?”

  “Little lady—”

  “Sheriff Early,” I interrupted, “while I may be your daughter, I am a grown woman and an employee of Fulton County. I would kindly request that you not take advantage of our familial relations regarding my working hours. I expected to be treated like any other employee.”

  “Like any other employee?”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied.

  “I would tell any other employee to do exactly what I told them to do, exactly when I told them to do it, or go stand in the unemployment line. And I would tell my daughter to tell her mother to stop loaning her all those damned women’s liberation books!” My father’s face turned beet red and the veins in his neck bulged under his overly-starched shirt collar.

  “Will there be anything else, sheriff Early?” I asked with a smile, doing my best not to react to his blowup.

  My father ran his hand down his face and sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Please sit down. I promise I won’t keep you.” His face softened as he motioned to the chair opposite his. “I’ve been shorthanded around here and I’m trying my best to cover as many shifts as I can myself. Greta’s getting older and can’t put in the late hours like she used to. Besides, you’re the only one who knows where anything is around this place. The truth is, Gracie, I’m a bit lost when you’re not around.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Daddy,” I said reassuringly, although I wasn’t sure which of the two of us, I was trying to convince. As much as I loved my parents, I was ready to begin a life away from my childhood home and the entire city of Atlanta. Everywhere I looked I saw reminders of my childhood. Someone or something tied to my family’s legacy of law enforcement. My brothers were both deputies, my dad was the Sherriff, as was his father before him and so on. And although, my father may not have expected me to be an officer, here I was with a degree in animal husbandry, working as a part-time clerk for my father.

  “Good, because I have plans for you in this department.”

  “Daddy, you know this is all temporary until I can find work with a ranch.”

  “You know who was in here tonight?” my father asked, quickly changing the subject.

  “Elvis Presley.” I answered.

  “Don’t be silly, Grace,” my father chided before continuing. “Do you remember the Hill boy? The one who received the Purple Heart last year?”

  My heart thumped violently in my chest and butterflies formed a conga line in my stomach.

  “Randall Hill?” I asked, trying my best to mask any reaction, just like I always had. Randall Hill was the son of Hayes Hill, one of the biggest cattle barons in the state. Our fathers would hunt together when I was a kid and I had the biggest crush on Randall that you could imagine. He was clean-cut, polite, and oh, so sweet. He was also the cutest boy I’d ever seen. Cuter even than Ricky Nelson. At least I thought so. Unfortunately, my plan to play it cool around him paid off a little too well, as I was pretty sure he didn’t even know I existed.

  “That’s right! Randall Hill. You always did have a great memory.”

  “What was he doing here? Is he a cop now?” I asked, not surprised that a good kid like that would grow up to be a law man.

  “No,” he laughed. “He was in lockup.”

  “What for?”

  “He was in here with his biker gang.”

  The butterflies in my stomach instantly dropped to the floor. “What?”

  “His old man called in a favor, so I sprung him. I hated to do it because the kid was a real punk, but I owe his old man, big time. I just let him go about ten minutes ago, but you should’ve seen him. He had long hair and a moustache like some damned rock and roll star.”

  “You don’t say?” My head was swimming. I couldn’t believe the biker I’d met on the steps was the same boy from my first and deepest crush.

  “Some war hero, I’ll bet his father is just pleased as punch,” my father said, clearly pleased to have a moral ‘leg up’ on his longtime friend.

  “I really have to go, Daddy,” I said, and stood to leave. “I’ll see you back at home.”

  “Okay, princess. Tell your mother I should be home by—”

  I slammed the office door behind me, made my way past security and walked quickly to my car.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Duke

  I woke up unaware of the time or my current location. For a moment, the unmistakable sound of men snoring made me think I was in an army barracks somewhere, but the familiar pain in my leg reminded me those days were behind me. As I opened my eyes, the light stung them like holy water on a vampire which told me two things. It was day time, and I was hungover.

  “Shit,” I seethed as I struggled to read my watch through my blurred vision.

  “Good morning, soldier,” Cutter said, placing a strong-smelling cup of coffee on the floor next to where I lay.

  “Where the hell am I?” I asked.

  “You tell me, soldier boy. You chose our accommodations last night,” Cutter replied.

  I sat up and looked to find myself inside what appeared to be a church basement. Posters containing the Serenity Prayer and the twelve steps of Alcoholics Anonymous adorned the walls along with pictures of Jesus that made him look more like the third long lost member of Loggins and Messina than a Middle Eastern Jew. Cutter had clearly found the coffee maker, but I was starting to think we should be looking for an exit. Cutter must have read this on my face.

  “Relax. The preacher already came downstairs to find all us bears sleeping in his bed and eating his porridge.”

  “Oh, yeah? How’d he take that?”

  “He was cool. He just asked that we clean up and turn the lights off when we leave. To be honest, I think he was just glad we weren’t here to rob the church.”

  “Why are we here?” I asked, taking a sip from the styrofoam cup.

  “Since we were unable to sell our merchandise last night, we were a little light on cash, so we sought accommodations within this holy place.”

  “My head feels like we had money to drink.”

  “That we did, Duke,” Warthog shouted before passing out again.

  “It was your idea to crash here, and a fine idea it turned out to be,” Cutter said as I rose to my feet. “You’re a standup guy and we’d love to have you prospect as a member of the Burning Saints any time you’re interested.”

  “I appreciate that,” I replied.

  “Where you headed now?” he asked.

  “I should probably be heading home to Savannah, but I think I’ll stick around Atlanta for just a little while longer.”

  “That wouldn’t have anything to do with that little southern belle you were talking to outside the police station last night, would it?”

  “My answer to that will depend on whether or not she gives me the time day. If I can even find her again.”

  Cutter laughed and we shook hands. “Well, if Savannah is everything you say it is, we’d lov
e to come check it out.”

  “Anytime, brother. You’ve got my number. Don’t be afraid to use it.”

  “We owe you one for getting us outta jail. I still don’t know how you managed that, but we’re in your debt.”

  With that, I said goodbye to the other conscious Burning Saints and headed out to my bike.

  * * *

  Pearl

  After church, I strolled along the downtown shops and cafes per my normal routine. As much as I craved spontaneity, I was a creature of habit, and window shopping on Sundays was part of that routine. My predictability was one of the reasons my parents had such an easy time getting me to do what they wanted me to do. They had to use little to no imagination when anticipating what my next move might be. Academically, I threw them a little curveball by majoring in a field I was passionate about, but so far, I’d managed to do absolutely bupkis with my degree and wondered if my parents’ influence was slowly poisoning my chance at an independent life.

  I stopped in front of a bookstore and was peering through the large display window when I heard a deep voice from behind.

  “Good morning, Pearl.”

  I spun around so quickly, I lost my balance, but was steadied by Duke’s strong arms.

  “Easy there. I didn’t mean to scare you. Sorry ’bout that,” he said with a broad smile. “Do you remember me from last night?”

  “Of course, I do,” I said, shocked that he was standing in front of me. “How did you find me?”

  “I just sorta asked around. People around here are very friendly. I started with the owner of the donut shop closest to the station and he said you’d probably be at church with it being Sunday and all. So, I went and got cleaned up at the YMCA and was coming down here to find some new clothes when I spotted the very Pearl I was looking for.”

  “I told you, my name is Gr—”

  “Duke and Pearl. Pearl and Duke. It’s got a ring to it. You’ve gotta admit.”

  “Don’t you mean Randall?” I asked.

  “How do you know my name?” he asked.

  “You really don’t remember me, do you?” I asked, studying his face.