I Gave You My Heart, but You Sold It Online Page 19
The crowd grew silent again as Deputy Bridges walked behind them and motioned with his palms, as if to shoo them through the front door.
The sound of a toilet flushing came from the storeroom, followed by a female voice warbling, “Let’s get this party started.” The curtain that covered the storeroom doorway parted and Mrs. Billy Don Roberts stepped into the front room, still zipping her jeans. She stopped and looked around, then zeroed in on her husband. “What’s going on, boopsie?”
The sheriff’s face turned three colors of red. “Velma!…My God, Velma!” He stiffened his spine and squared his shoulders. “I don’t know what a fine churchgoing woman like you is doing in this den of iniquity, but I can’t make an exception because you’re my wife. Sometimes a man has to make hard choices upholding the law.”
Debbie Sue couldn’t contain her laughter, even knowing how pissed Buddy was going to be. But surely Buddy would understand that this really wasn’t her fault.
Laughter continued to plague the gathering until everyone was escorted outside. Parked on the far side of the parking lot, attached to the rear bumper of Deputy Bridges’s old pickup, sat a cattle trailer with tall sides made of wooden slats. The tailgate had been dropped down to create a ramp. Typically, the ramp was used to load cattle. Edwina screamed with laughter again. “Billy Don doesn’t have a paddy wagon in his bud get. He’s got a cattle trailer.”
“Billy Don Roberts,” Maudeen exclaimed, glaring up at him and shaking her bony finger at his nose. “Why, young man, I’ve known you your entire life. Why, your mama used to rinse your dirty diapers in my bathroom sink every time y’all’s water got shut off. Why, if you think you’re gonna haul me off to jail in that shitty old cattle trailer, you better retrace your steps and think again.”
“Now, Miz Wiley,” Deputy Bridges yelled, leaning closer to her face with his hand cupped against his mouth. “I cleaned it out before we came over here. I hung some o’ them pine-scented air fresheners inside, too. You ladies will be real comfortable.”
“Quit yelling in my face, you little idget!” Maudeen whacked him on the shoulder with her purse. “Why, I know your mama and daddy and I play poker with your grandma. Just wait till I tell her what you’ve been up to.” She swung her purse at his head, but he ducked.
Billy Don intervened by gripping Maudeen’s shoulders and pulling her back several steps, where she could no longer reach his brother-in-law. “I told you to watch out for this one,” he warned.
Debbie Sue stepped up, angry now. “This isn’t the first fuckin’ trailer I ever saw or rode in. But at least let Maudeen and Jewel ride up front with you big tough men. I only hope everyone in town sees us go by.”
“Me, too,” Edwina said, hoisting her chin and prissing up the trailer ramp. She took a place against the sidewall and clasped her hands around the slats.
“And me, too,” sang out Allison, following Edwina and taking a position beside her.
A roar mounted from the group. Charlene Elkins stepped in front of them and thrust a fist in the air. “Let’s go, girls. Let’s ride proudly through the streets of Salt Lick.”
As the women dutifully crowded into the cattle trailer, Debbie Sue didn’t bother to remind them that there were no “streets of Salt Lick.” There was only one street that passed through town and it was the state highway linking 302 to I-20.
“I wanna ride in the back,” Maudeen said, and multiple hands lifted her into the trailer.
“Me, too,” Jewel added, hanging on to her boom box.
The only one who climbed into the truck cab with Sheriff Billy Don and Deputy Bridges was Velma Roberts. Debbie Sue had seen her whisper in Billy Don’s ear. What ever she said, apparently it was real enough to him. He turned from red to white and handed the truck keys over to his deputy.
As the truck and trailer pulled away from the salon with twenty-six women standing inside shoulder to shoulder, Jewel pressed the boom box’s on button and turned the volume on high. The heavy drumbeat bounced off the pavement and filled the night air as they traveled the one and only main street.
From the very front of the trailer, behind the throng of women, a deep, mournful voice bellowed, “Mmmooooo,” and the whole bunch broke into laughter again.
The drive to the jail took less than ten minutes. Apparently phones had started ringing throughout the town and county before the trailer had departed the salon and now a crowd of a dozen women was waiting at the sheriff’s office. This show of support came as no surprise to Debbie Sue. Her customers were loyal.
Billy Don climbed down from the truck and confronted the clamoring crowd. “All y’all go on home now. This ain’t got nothing to do with you.”
“What’d they do?” someone called out.
“You don’t wanna know,” the sheriff replied. “Take my word for it, you don’t wanna know.”
“We wanna be arrested, too,” someone shouted from the back of the crowd.
A chorus of “yeahs” followed.
“No, dammit,” Billy Don shouted back. “I can’t arrest every female in town. Just go on home now.”
The din of feminine voices escalated.
“I mean it!” He jammed a fist against his sagging accessories belt and pointed toward the fire hydrant on the street corner. “See this fire hydrant? I’ll get a hose and turn it on you! Harry, bring me that hose in back o’ the jail!”
“Uh, Billy Don—”
Everyone turned toward Deputy Bridges, who had inadvertently handcuffed himself to one of the trailer slats. The crowd of women hooted.
Billy Don did an exaggerated eye roll and stamped over to the trailer. He fumbled at his belt for the handcuff keys, then unlocked his deputy. “Get ’em inside, Harry,” he said. “I’ll take care o’ this out here.”
Inside, the jail consisted of two six-by-eight cells and one bunk, each containing a commode. Deputy Bridges divided the group evenly, thirteen women packed into each cell. The music from Jewel’s boom box caused the walls of the small frame building to vibrate.
Edwina sank to the bunk at the back of the cell. “Well, I don’t know about anybody else, but I’ve been on my feet all day and I’ve had just about as much of this fun as I need.”
With a sigh, Debbie Sue sat down beside her. “Buddy Overstreet is going to divorce me, shoot me, hang me, and leave me for the buzzards.”
“I think that happened to somebody else,” Edwina said. “I read about it when I was quitting smoking. I think it was Rasmusson.”
Debbie Sue recalled that Edwina had used reading any and everything to distract her from smoking. Unfortunately most of the information she retained from the extensive reading she did was confused and incorrect.
“Don’t you mean Ras—” Allison frowned and licked her lips. “That stuff still makes my tongue feel funny. Don’t you mean Rasputin?”
“What ever,” Debbie Sue muttered.
“Aw, c’mon,” Edwina said. “This isn’t gonna amount to much. If Billy Don charged these women with anything, their husbands would ride him out of town on a rail. And he could kiss his job as sheriff good-bye. Besides that, I’ll bet a lot of bored husbands would get a kick out of some of that stuff at the party.”
Allison came to where they were sitting and took a seat on the commode beside the bunk. “Do you suppose these parties were going on while Buddy was sheriff? Are they really against the law?”
“Hell, I don’t know.” Debbie Sue braced her elbows on her knees and dropped her chin into her palms. “All I know is if I survive Buddy finding out about this, I’m gonna have a long talk with Maudeen.”
The sheriff walked into the room, looking authoritative.
“I suppose he’s stopped the riot outside,” Edwina mumbled.
“Bullshit,” Debbie Sue muttered. “When Buddy was sheriff, he would’ve never done something this stupid.”
“I betcha Billy Don wouldn’t have done it either, if Buddy was in town. He probably knows Buddy’s three hundred miles away.”
> The sheriff marched to the cell housing Jewel and her boom box. “Shet off that radio!”
“It isn’t a radio,” Jewel said, defiantly leaving the volume on high. Billy Don fumbled with a ring of many keys, finally found one, and opened the cell door. “Give it to me,” he ordered.
“Make me,” Jewel said, glaring up at him and sticking out her wrinkled chin.
Billy Don pried the boom box from her hands. The group didn’t protest. They seemed to have sunk into a slump, no doubt the effect of the vodka and 7-Up starting to dissipate. Debbie Sue was starting to develop a headache herself.
The cell remained quiet as Billy Don walked back to the desk. “Now, you see, Deputy,” he said to Deputy Bridges. “This is how you handle a riot. I’ve removed the source of, uh…the source of—hold on.” He pulled a thick book from the shelf above his desk, leafed to a dog-eared page, and read briefly, his lips moving. He slapped the book closed and returned his attention to Deputy Bridges. “I’ve removed the source of agitation. Now the group is docile and ready to take the lead of the controlling officers.” He pointed to his deputy, then to himself. “That’s you and me.”
“Ohhhh.” Deputy Harry lifted his chin as if he had just seen the light. “I just figured the liquor was wearing off.”
Billy Don tilted his head, his mouth twisted into a scowl. “Well, yeah, that’s prob’ly true, too.”
Idiot, Debbie Sue thought. “Where’s Velma?” she called out. “Why isn’t she in here with us?”
Murmurs rose from both cells.
“She’s home. Took her m’self. We got young’uns she needs to be home tending. Now, I’m willing to let y’all leave on your own recognition—”
“Don’t you mean recognizance?” Allison asked timidly.
The sheriff glared at her. “You know, Miz Barker, you oughta be ashamed o’ yourself. You got a nice daughter and you’re a businesswoman in this town.”
“It was just a little good clean fun,” Allison said. “What else is there to do in Salt Lick?”
The sheriff continued to glare at her, obviously unable to come up with a rebuttal. He raised his voice again, speaking to both cells. “Like I was saying, on top o’ disturbing the peace and acting lewd and indecent, y’all all have been drinking. But I’m a fair man. I’ll release you to night if somebody picks you up and takes responsibility for you. So, if you got a cell phone, make your call. Those o’ you that don’t, I’ll let you use the phone on my desk. Just keep it short.” He started to walk away, but stopped and came back. “And no long distance.”
Women began to paw in their purses for phones. Edwina dug out hers and looked at Debbie Sue and Allison. “Who do we call? It wouldn’t do any good to call my guy. He’s somewhere on the road between here and California.”
“What about Buddy?” Allison asked.
Allison obviously didn’t know just how utterly unhinged Buddy would become when he learned his wife was in jail and the reason. “Are you kidding? Buddy’s at a DPS training seminar in El Paso. I’m gonna call him and tell him Billy Don Dipshit has arrested me for lewd and indecent conduct? Those are real cops he’s with. They’d laugh him out of the meeting. I’d be better off to call my lawyer and have her start work on a settlement.”
“Hey, maybe she could come pick us up,” Edwina said.
“All the way from Odessa? It’d cost us a fortune. Allison, got anyone we can call?”
“We could call my mom, but she and Jill are out of town with Frank. I don’t even know where they’re staying. They were supposed to get in touch with me later this evening and tell me.” She chewed on her thumbnail, deep in thought. “I suppose we could call Quint.”
“Hell, yes!” Debbie Sue sprang to her feet. “Why didn’t I think of him? He’s the perfect person to call in a situation like this. If there’s anyone who can’t throw stones, it’s him.”
“That’s good,” Edwina said, “because we’re sure as shit sitting in a glass house.”
Allison dug in her pocket, produced the number for Quint’s cell phone, and keyed it in. She held up a finger at each ring—one, two, three. “Oh, drat.” She stared at the miniscreen. “‘Call failed,’ it says.” She tried again to no avail. “I can’t reach him,” she said on a sigh. “Now what are we going to do?”
“Call Tag’s house,” Debbie Sue said. “Maybe he knows where Quint is. Or Quint could be there, but have his cell turned off.”
“I don’t have Tag’s home number. Just his cell. But it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to call.”
Allison explained the situation she found herself in with Quint and his longtime friend. She recounted the angry scene in her living room and then the day’s lengthy lunch that ended with an uncertain outcome. “So, see? I can’t call Tag and ask for Quint.”
“Well, I sure as hell can.” Debbie Sue grabbed the phone. “Gimme that number.”
Allison dug out the other slip of paper and read the number aloud as Debbie Sue entered it.
Several heartbeats passed. Then an answer. Debbie Sue blew out a breath in relief. “Hi, Tag. This is Debbie Sue Overstreet…”
Quint wasn’t there, he told her after she explained their situation. On a good-natured laugh, he added that he would come to Salt Lick and bail them out.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, Tag. I’ll owe you, big-time. There’s three of us, my friends Edwina Martin and Allison Barker and me. We’ll be looking for you. And thanks again. And oh, by the way, where is Quint anyway?”
She listened, then folded the phone shut and handed it back to Edwina. “Tag’s coming to get us. I can’t believe he’s gonna drive all the way from Midland. What a great guy.”
“What about Quint?” Allison asked.
“He took off. Tag said he called information and got a number for some woman in Haskell. He placed a call, talked for a few minutes, then hightailed it out the door. What do you suppose that was about?”
Allison didn’t answer. She just frowned and slowly shook her head.
That was a guilty look if Debbie Sue had ever seen one. Then she remembered, Allison used to live in Haskell. Did she know why Quint had gone there?
THE TAN KIA’S driver, shaken and distraught, watched from a distance as a sheriff’s department sedan, lights flashing, siren squealing, and a volunteer-fire-department truck came to a stop in front of the Tenth Street house. An EMT ambulance trailed them and pulled into the driveway. Volunteer EMTs rushed into the house. All of the colored lights in the dark night cast the scene in an eerie glow.
Minutes earlier the KIA’s driver had placed an anonymous 911 call, then sat undetected and waiting. And was now watching as yellow crime-scene tape was strung around the redbrick home. This was not the way it was supposed to have played out. The planned outcome was for a civil discussion, compromise, and, finally, acceptance. What had happened instead was like a bad dream.
Neighbors began to congregate on the sidewalks and street. They stood in knots, talking in low tones. The sheriff and two deputies, probably Haskell’s entire sheriff’s department, moved in and out of the house.
After what seemed like forever, the EMTs emerged with a gurney. On it lay a shrouded body.
twenty-two
Allison had to share her suspicions with her friends. She pulled Debbie Sue and Edwina closer to her in a corner of the cell. “I think I know why Quint’s gone to Haskell.”
Debbie Sue and Edwina traded glances, then focused their attention on her. “So, tell us,” Debbie Sue said.
For the second time Allison explained her relationship with the woman in the picture and described Quint’s reaction when she told him she recognized Monica Hunter.
Debbie Sue crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “I think you’re right. I saw only one picture in the group that I thought resembled the photo the credit-card people faxed. God, what a small world.”
“But why the secrecy?” Allison asked. “Why didn’t Quint acknowledge to me that it was her?”
“And because you two have dated a couple of times,” Debbie Sue added, “he’d hate admitting to you he’s got it so bad for her. Besides that, if we had found her, we’d have tried to talk him out of going after her and I think he already had his mind made up.”
“Really? You think he’s that hung up on Monica?” Allison asked.
“Like I’ve never seen him before,” Debbie Sue said. “Listen, I know this man. I’m betting the whole reason he wants to find her is to try to win her back.”
“Then why was he trying to date me?” Allison asked.
Edwina had found a stick of gum in her purse and begun to unwrap it. “Hon, you’re using logic. You can’t do that when you’re talking about a man. They function from instinct, based on their egos and physical needs. They’re only interested in”—she stuffed the gum in her mouth and counted on her fingers—“food, sleep, and sex. And not necessarily in that order.”
“Quint has to have the attention of a woman,” Debbie Sue said. “He’s always been like that. I’ve always known the one he can’t have is the one he wants the most.”
Allison felt a mixture of disappointment and relief. “So Quint doesn’t care about me? He’s in love with someone else?”
“That’s the way I see it,” Debbie Sue said. “And I’m convinced, now that I know he’s gone to Haskell.”
With an untoward feeling of elation, Allison reached for her purse and fished inside it. She came up with a compact and lipstick.
“Why are you getting all dolled up?” Edwina asked. “It’s the middle of the night.”
Allison grinned. “You said Tag’s coming, didn’t you?”
TAG LOOKED AGAIN at the picture Debbie Sue had sent him over the phone. She had sent it in response to his disbelief of the story she told him. The image was of her and another woman he had never met. She was taller than Debbie Sue, had coal-black hair, lots of makeup, and earrings the size of pancakes. Edwina, perhaps. The two of them were standing against the cell bars looking a little wilted. The back of Allison’s head was visible in the frame.