Witness Rejection Page 21

  “She lit a shuck about ten minutes ago. Couldn’t stand your snorin’ anymore.”

  “Never bothered her before.”

  “You always this grouchy when you first wake up?”

  “Plenty a goddamn room in Texas if it’s too much for you.”

  Clete grinned. “Oh no,” he said. “You got too many women worried about you, sweetheart. If I wandered off an’ let you die, they’d hunt me down like a dog an’ leave my narrow ass out for crowbait.”

  Crockett stifled a smile. “You were damn sure right when you said too many women,” he said. “Women scare the hell outa me when I only have to deal with them one at a time.”

  “You got that right, pard. I got stuck on a elevator in Dallas for nearly thirty minutes with about seven secretaries an’ shit once. Ever one of ‘em coulda turned letters on a game show. Christ! Longest half-hour a my young life. That’s what’s gonna make the next few days so interestin’. You, stuck in the middle a Ivy, Satin, Carson, an’ ol’ Ruby. The social dynamic at that little gathering could affect the fault line.”

  “Oh, hell.”

  “An’ ever one of ‘em thinkin’ she knows what’s best for Crockett, an’ all of ‘em jealous a everbody else. Son, you better have yer rope wrapped real tight when they unbox that ox, or you ain’t gonna make it more than one jump outa the chute. Godamighty!”

  “Let me die,” Crockett said.

  “An’ miss all the fun? Hell no.”

  “You are a despicable sonofabitch, Texican.”

  “You got that right. I figure that before it’s all over, Miz Satin is gonna need a little comfort an’ companionship. Whether she’ll ask for it or not, I don’t know. I’ve made it pretty clear that she’s got my attention. From now on it’s up to her. I like her style, Crockett, but I damn sure don’t want her doin’ nothin’ that ain’t her idea.”

  Crockett looked at Clete and smiled. “Maybe you aren’t as despicable as I thought,” he said.

  Clete grinned. “Doan let that git out,” he said. “It’ll ruin my reputation.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Contact

  Crockett spent the next day grunting and groaning his way through chores to get the bus ready to travel. Clete did most of the work since even reaching the top shelf of a cabinet was too much for his freshly wounded partner. Late afternoon, a young man dispatched by Lyle Higgenbotham arrived to disconnect the electric service, water, and sewer lines. After he departed, Clete built a fire in the grill, put on some brats that would have embarrassed a Shetland pony, opened a can of sauerkraut, retrieved a container of German potato salad from the fridge, and produced two four-packs of ice cold Guinness.

  Crockett grinched his way into the dinette and offered an appraisal of the situation as Nudge ambled in and sat on the bench beside him.

  “Damn, Texican.”

  “Thanks, Crockett. Eat.”

  When the thunderous repast was eventually concluded, and a couple of brat scraps left for the cat, they repaired to the screen room. Crockett eased his way into a chaise lounge with minimal sound effects, unstrapped his sling, and took a slug of his third Guinness.

  “How ya doin, son?” Clete asked.

  “Some better,” Crockett said. “What little I did today has loosened me up. It’s not as bad as it was this morning.”

  “Good. You ain’t got no busted ribs then. You’re pretty lucky.”

  “I know it.”

  “That ol’ boy, Boster, or whatever his name really is, ain’t done, y’know.”

  “Yeah. He won’t stop.”

  “We head for Ivy’s tomorrow. Once we git on the road and gas up, I wanna keep goin’. Rather be a movin’ target.”

  “I agree. You ever driven a bus?”

  “Nope.”

  “Long as you don’t have to turn corners, change lanes, or back up, there’s nothing to it.”

  Clete grinned. “Reckon I’ll learn how tomorrow.”

  “Christ, where’s my head? Have you done anything about getting the girls out here for the trip?”

  “Yep. I called Satin and got it taken care of. Speakin’ of the ladies, you ain’t seen Carson for a while, huh?”

  “So what? You’ve never seen her.”

  “Now what the hell ya gittin’ so defensive about? I was just commentin’ on…”

  “I know damn good and well what you were doing, Texican.”

  “Yer about a touchy sumbitch. Ain’t my fault you got the hots for ol’ Carson.”

  “The hots?”

  Clete grinned, Yeah, the hots.”

  “Texican, your ass is itchy. You don’t know shit about shit.”

  “Son, I may be a thirty watt bulb in a seventy-five watt world, but I can damn sure manufacture enough light to take a peek around. You and Carson is just a matter of time.”

  “I suppose that all you want from Satin is some sort of touchy-feely platonic relationship?”

  “We ain’t talkin’ about me, Crockett.”

  “Aw, Jesus. Why don’t you mind your own business?”

  Clete chuckled. “An’ leave your blood pressure alone? Not hardly.”

  Crockett finished his Guinness and yawned. Clete raised an eyebrow.

  “Why don’t you turn in and get your beauty sleep, darlin’?” he said. “We all know how cranky you can be if you don’t get your ten hours. I’ll drain the hot tub an’ stuff. Take that last beer and go to bed.”

  “Gotta deal,” Crockett said, gingerly getting to his feet. “Thanks for fixing dinner.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Thanks for everything else, too. I appreciate ya, Clete.”

  Cletus grinned. “That’s just the booze talkin’,” he said, and watched Crockett pick his slow way up the steps and into the Pequod.

  Damn. Sumbitch was lucky to be alive.

  Crockett woke up a little after eight the next morning to an extremely quiet bus. He managed to put his leg on by himself and limped into the living area. Coffee was hot in the pot and a note on the counter from Cletus advised him that the Texan had left for town to pick up Satin and Carson, get Crockett’s truck, and return his Escalade to the nearest rental location. Crockett sat at the dinette for his first cup of coffee and his first Sherman of the day, then took an abbreviated shower because he was now restricted to the water carried aboard the Pequod. Freshly scrubbed and clad, he scrambled some eggs for a late breakfast, went outside, limped down to his soon to be occupied home site, and stood looking over the draw that he planned to dam up for a small lake. He was engaged in his crappie and bass induced fantasy when he heard tires crunch on the gravel of the drive. He turned to walk back and was greeted by the oncoming form of Carson heading his way. She caught his eye, smiled, and accelerated her pace.

  Carson barely reduced her speed when she collided with Crockett, putting her arms about his neck and assaulting him with a painful, yet enjoyable, hug. She pulled away to arm’s length to look at him and Crockett could see tears collected in the bottom of her eyes.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” she said.

  Crockett grinned. “Took the words right outa my mouth.”

  “I missed you, Crockett. I missed your smartass conversation, I missed your bitching, I missed that safe envelope that surrounds me when I’m near you, and I missed your voice. You’re my hero. I just wanted you to know that.”

  “Aw, shucks.”

  “And now I’m hugging you and you’ve been injured,” Carson went on, loosening her grip around his neck. “Am I hurting you?”

  “Yes,” Crockett said, tightening his arms about her low back. “But it is agony sweet that demands no respite.”

  Carson’s smile was back. “There’s that voice. So wonderful. So full of shit.”

  Crockett chuckled and released her. “That would be me,” he said.

  She kissed his cheek and backed away a pace. They turned and began to walk up the slope toward the bus, and Clete, and Satin, and the world. Carson rubbed his back briefly.
>
  “I feel like I haven’t seen you for a year,” she said. “You kept me awake now and then, Crockett.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  “Like, at night?”

  “Like, at night.”

  Crockett stopped and faced her. “Why, Carson,” he said, the perfect picture of exaggerated innocence, “I wonder whatever that might possibly mean?”

  She touched his breastbone lightly with a finger. “Use your imagination,” she said, then turned away and strode off up the drive.

  Crockett didn’t even try to keep up with her. His imagination was too busy.

  Oh, my.

  By the time Crockett limped his way to the Pequod, the girls had gone inside and Clete was grinning at him from beside the truck. Crockett glared at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  Clete’s grin got wider. “That there Carson definitely wins the triathlon,” he said. “Bob Barker never had nothin’ better’n that pointin’ at prizes. Son, if I was you, I’d be practicin’ how to breathe through my ears.”

  It was shortly after noon before the bus sat beside the lane on the edge of the gravel road, with Crockett’s truck securely positioned on the cradle attached to the rear bumper and hitch. Clete sat nervously behind the wheel. Satin was next to him in the co-pilot’s seat, Carson relaxed on the sofa, Nudge languished in his kennel behind the bedroom’s closed doors, and Crockett held station at the dinette where he could keep an eye on Clete without making Cletus even more tense than he was. Taking the helm of the Pequod for the first time was a hair-raising experience.

  “How we doin’ on fuel?” he asked, as Clete prepared for departure. Cletus scanned the instrumentation for a moment before he located the correct gage.

  “’Bout half a tank,” he said.

  “Hit the first truck stop we come to and I’ll fill it up. I wanna make the run with no stops once we get on the road.”

  “Roger,” Clete said, easing the bus away from the shoulder and onto the crowned gravel surface. The bus crunched and swayed a bit as it picked up speed. Nudge’s anguished yowl reverberated from his sequestered position in the rear of the vehicle.

  Crockett grinned. “He’ll settle down in a little while. Always takes Nudge a few miles to figure out he’s not falling. When he adjusts, I’ll let him out. He likes to look out the window and hiss at those passersby he considers to be unworthy.”

  “That would be most of them, I assume,” Carson said.

  Clete pulled in to a truck stop on the northern leg of the 435 bypass. Carson and Satin, although they had been on the road for less than an hour and were traveling in a house on wheels, both skittered off to the restroom, bags in hand, the instant the bus rolled to a stop. Crockett did an extensive walk-around, checking tire pressure, fluids, the connection to the pickup, and related items closely. At length, Clete stood beside him while he pumped diesel fuel into the Pequod’s tank.

  “Won’t take a lotta talent to follow us, Crockett,” Cletus said.

  “We’re not hard to spot. Don’t want to tell you how to drive, Texican, but if I were you, I’d keep us about ten miles an hour below wherever the speed limit is listed.”

  Clete nodded. “That way, if there’s a car behind us that don’t pass, and ain’t full of kids and dogs, it’s definitely following us.”

  “Exactly. We’re in no hurry. Sorry I won’t be able to help you keep an eye peeled for bad guys. No way for me to see out the rear end of this thing.”

  “That’s okay. Visibility is a lot better than I thought it’d be. Big mirrors. That little TV isn’t worth a shit on anything farther than twenty feet away, though.”

  “You gonna be all right driving?”

  Clete nodded. “Sure. I’m gonna take the long way around St. Louis. Newer road, less traffic. Actually, drivin’ this thing kinda fun. Sorta like continuously tryin’ to land a 747.”

  “I’m sure Satin will do whatever it takes to keep you on the glide path.”

  “Yeah. How you an’ ol’ Carson holdin’ up? Bored yet? Her, I mean.”

  Crockett stifled a smile. “Five’ll getcha ten,” he said, “those two are in the john right now, discussing how to keep out of each other’s way on this drive while they attempt to pick our brains. Something about a road trip that makes people more chatty than usual. Intimacy of the highway, or something.”

  “You got that right,” Clete said. “I proposed to a gal on a road trip once.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit.”

  “What’d she say?”

  “I dunno. She was in another car. But there for six or seven miles before she turned off, I was deep in love.”

  Crockett was chuckling as the gas pump clicked off. Thirty-nine gallons to top off the hundred gallon tank. Plenty of fuel to make it to Ivy’s. He was ripping his receipt off the pump when he heard Clete whisper, “Mercy.” He followed the Texican’s gaze to see the girls striding their way toward the Pequod. Both were wearing nicely abbreviated shorts, midriff baring tops, and tall sandals. Satin’s color scheme was predominately green, Carson’s mostly pink. Their makeup was fresh and, if their walks and smiles were any indication, so were their attitudes.

  “Did I miss something?” Crockett said. “Is this the day after prom?”

  “Lord, God,” Clete said. “The question is, how much of this is for us an’ how much is for Ruby?”

  “Who cares?”

  The ladies stopped about ten feet away, insuring Clete and Crockett could easily view the entire tableau. Carson posed, a quarter turn off of head on, one foot in front of the other, the knee slightly bent, shoulders back, her neck extended to accentuate her height and poise. Satin stood, right arm akimbo on an outthrust hip, her grin offering hope and challenge, and popped her gum.

  “You boys ready?” she asked.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Clete said, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow.

  Satin turned to Carson. “They thought they were. But they’re not.”

  “They never really are,” Carson said, and followed Satin onto the bus.

  Clete looked at Crockett. “I give up.”

  “Resistance is futile,” Crockett said, and steeled himself to board the Pequod.

  Ten minutes later they were on the road and Carson had worked her magic in the kitchen, presenting Clete and Satin with glasses of iced tea flavored with a touch of pineapple juice, and she and Crockett each with a Bloody Mary.

  “How come we get booze?” Crockett asked.

  “We’re not driving,” Carson said, arranging herself exquisitely on the couch. “And you hurt. I can see it in your eyes. Why don’t you use the recliner?”

  “It’s not tied down. I can fall out of the thing even when the bus isn’t moving.”

  “You don’t look comfortable.”

  “Yeah, well, uh…a lot of that comes from the fact that I’m trying really hard not to stare.”

  “Oh?”

  “Oh?” Crockett parroted.

  Carson chuckled. “I’ve been in front of over eighty million people while wearing a lot less than this, Crockett. You think you looking is going to bother me?”

  Crockett took a slug of his drink. “I guess not,” he said.

  “Then you’re wrong. It does bother me, Crockett. It bothers me a lot. And it is a delicious bother. A warm and fuzzy bother that I am enjoying immensely.”

  Crockett felt a lump materialize in his throat. “Uh…”

  Carson stood up and moved to sit in the dinette across from him.

  “You’re speechless,” she said.

  “Well, uh…”

  “Aw, Crockett, I love it that you’re speechless, I love it that you’re working so hard not to stare, and I love it that you’re feeling a little overwhelmed. Those are all marvelous compliments to me. And they’re very honest. I’ve been short on honest compliments for a long time. Thank you.”

  Crockett felt like he was going to float out of his seat. He reached across the tab
le and took her hands. They were warm and dry, and she moved a thumb gently back and forth across his knuckles.

  “Lady,” Crockett said, feeling tears gather in his eyes, “I’m astounded. I’m astounded by you, by how I react to you, by the effect you have on me. I feel like I’m ten years old, or something. Like I’m standing in water that is too deep, and waves are coming. And yet, in spite of the fact that I’m scared to death, I absolutely know that even when I go under, I’ll still be able to breathe.”

  Carson stood again and moved to sit by Crockett. “If I don’t kiss you,” she said, “my heart will stop.”

  When it was over, both their breath and their tears mingled and separated, Carson looked into Crockett’s eyes from a distance of a few inches.

  “I couldn’t be more amazed if I had just seen a unicorn,” she said.

  They both laughed then, pulling back a bit into themselves out of necessity. Carson rested her chin on his shoulder as Crockett gently ran his fingers over her forearm.

  “I’m a little scared of you, Crockett,” she said.

  “Likewise. Fun, huh?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  They lapsed into silence for a few moments, before Carson spoke again.

  “I know you’re worried,” she said. “You’re worried about the guys that might be after us, you’re worried about my safety, and you’re worried about seeing Ruby after all this time and everything that’s transpired.”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s okay,” Carson went on. “You can worry about all that if you need to, even my safety, but the one thing you absolutely do not have to worry about is me. I’m standing in that water with you, Crockett, and the waves are coming, and I don’t care. For whatever, for whenever, and for however long this lasts, you need never worry about me. I’m right here, and right here is where is where I want to be.”

  She shifted in her seat and smiled. “Except I’m not going to stay right here, right here. I’m going to move back to the other side of the dinette. You’re still way to sore for me to climb all over you, and I don’t see how I can avoid that at this range.”