Chapter Twenty-two

Bonnie's car was an aging Toyota van that had seen better days a few years before she bought it. It was reliable and unobtrusive. In short, it was the perfect vehicle for an afternoon spent snooping.

I ducked out the back door of the salon, high-tailed it the few feet to the driver's-side door, and was freedom bound within seconds, turning off the tiny street where the Curly-Que sat and out onto Greene Street. The radio was blaring Reba's latest, and I was humming along, too busy concentrating on my next step to sing the harmony.

Nosmo King's girlfriend might hold the piece I needed to clear Vernell, but if she did then it probably meant she'd killed her beloved, or at least helped to plan it. I thought back to her behavior at the funeral reception and couldn't quite picture the sobbing, black-haired Pauline as a killer. And then I thought of her friend, the bleached-blond Christine. Now there was a cold-blooded vixen. Maybe the two of them together could've killed Nosmo King, but Pauline wasn't sharp enough or hard enough to do the job alone.

"You are just the last of the naive innocents, Maggie Reid," I said aloud. "Do you really think that all murderers have to look like the posters on the post office walls? Pauline could've pulled that trigger for two million dollars and been acting the grief-stricken girlfriend three days later if it meant saving herself."

But she'd seemed so certain that Bess King had killed Nosmo. Either way, Bess King was my starting point. If she'd hired Tony, maybe she knew about Nosmo's girlfriend. I turned the van toward the northeast and began the drive out toward Brown Summit. I looked into the rearview mirror, saw no one I recognized, and drove on, satisfied that Tony Carlucci was sitting on the hood of my car, fuming.

Just as quickly, I flashed to my last image of Marshall Weathers, standing outside the jail, watching me ride off with Carlucci. In that brief second, the pain overwhelmed me, taking my breath away.

"You weak-willed woman," I said. "What is wrong with you? You let a man see you naked for the first time in God knows how long, and the next thing you know, you think you're in love." I turned onto Route 29 and headed north. "Desperate and dependent, that's what you are." I merged into the early afternoon traffic. "You weren't this way last week. What's wrong with you, getting all upset over another stupid man? He told you he wasn't looking for a relationship." But that was it. He wasn't looking to get hooked up and here I was seeing that as a challenge.

It was the raw hurt in his eyes. It was the way he smiled when he took me into his arms, the way he held me as I fell asleep. It was all too much. I hadn't ever felt like that. It only made sense I magnified it into meaning more to him than it really did.

"Can't make a souffle' out of turnips and hog jowls," I said, quoting Mama. The car chirped in agreement, and then chirped again.

I looked at the console. What was that noise? It was insistenfand regular, and quite loud. I listened and heard it again, coming from Bonnie's tape holder. Bonnie, ever technologically aware, had a cell phone, the better to keep tabs on her six kids and the errant, estranged Rodney.

I picked it up out of a tape slot and opened the receiver. "Hello?" I said cautiously.

Bonnie's voice crackled to life inside the van. "Sugar, how're you doing?"

"How'm I doing? You just saw me ten minutes ago. What do you mean, how am I doing? What's wrong? Is somebody there with you?"

A cautious "Yes."

"Is it Carlucci?" If he was there threatening her…

"Nope, babe, can't say it is."

"Male?"

"Oh Lord, yes!"

Damn him! "Weathers?"

"Well bless my soul," Bonnie exclaimed.

"Does he know you're talking to me?"

"Well, sweetie, I just called to see if you were on your way home from school."

"I see. Put him on."

"I was hoping it might go that way," she said, and sighed. "It's always worth a good listen, especially if you've got a past history."

I was pulling off of 29 and onto the exit to the King ranch. What did it matter if I talked to him? He didn't know where I was.

"Bonnie, he's an idiot, just like they all are. When you look at him, I want you to think Rodney."

Bonnie laughed. "Nah, I ain't never seen this one flash his butt in the back of a pickup. Somehow I don't think it's the same."

She handed the phone to Weathers. I heard her speak to him first. "I had to see did she want to talk to you, but being as how you think it's urgent, I guess she will."

His deep voice rumbled in my ear. "Maggie, where are you?"

"Weathers, state your business or move on."

"I need to see you." Beg me, I thought.

I pulled off to the side of the road, across from the King farm, and sat staring at the bass pond.

"I don't see that we have anything to say. I think we've covered it all."

"Sheila called me after you left." And with that one statement, my heart froze and he had my complete attention.

"What did she want?" I kept my tone casual, as if it didn't shock me that she'd call him.

"She knew we'd arrested Vernell. She was upset."

"Well, do you blame her?"

My face flamed up and I could feel my neck flush. Could he have no feeling for what she had to be going through? Did he not know she'd be devastated?

"She said she's coming to talk to me. I just thought you might want to know, maybe even be here with her."

"What? What do you mean, she's coming to see you? She can't come see you!"

Marshall chuckled. "Maggie, since when does anybody stop Sheila from doing anything she wants to do?"

"Do you not get it?" I screamed. "Nosmo King's money is missing. It's Redneck Mafia money, Marshall. They want it back. Don't you see that as a danger to Sheila?"

"Maggie, calm down. She couldn't be safer once she's here. She's probably driving over from school or your house. I'll send a couple of cars out to watch out for her. She'll be fine."

"No, Marshall, she won't be fine. She's with my sister in Virginia. How's she going to get to you? I had her safe. You shouldn't have let her come."

"Maggie, I didn't know. I just wanted to help her out, and that's what I intend to do."

The trees surrounding the back side of the bass pond began to sway gently with a breeze that gusted up. Clouds skittered across the sky, gray and white, signaling an approaching front. What had been a beautiful fall day was beginning to turn into something far more ominous.

"Someone killed Carlucci's dog last night. I was there. I think they were trying to get to me. You can't tell me Sheila's safe. Now I've gotta go. I'm gonna call my sister and tell her to hang on to Sheila."

I hung up on him, dialing Darlene's number as fast as I could.

"Hey." Darlene's husband, Earl, never fooled with social niceties.

"Earl, where's Sheila?"

Earl paused for a second and I nearly went through the tiny phone after him.

"Well," he said slowly, "I reckon she's still at the drugstore, but it has been awhile. Said she was going after some feminine products. Guess that takes some time to figure on what you want and all."

"Earl! Did she go with Darlene?"

I was beating my hand on the steering wheel, trying to keep from screaming and making matters way worse.

"Nah, Darlene's down to the studio. Sheila didn't go with her on account of she didn't feel good and she needed to go to town. She borrowed my pickup."

"Earl, listen to me. I think Sheila's run off."

"Not without her puppy," he said. "Sheila don't go nowhere without that thing. And he's right out here in his…" I heard the trailer door swing open and Earl step out onto the stoop. "Aw shoot! Dadgummit!"

"The dog's gone, isn't he, Earl?"