Hot Southern Mess Page 8

  “Oh, God. David.” She buried her face in his chest. She knew even now that she'd never be able to erase the memories of blood dripping down Brett's face and wild panic in his eyes as he'd convulsed against the steering wheel moments after she'd shot him. She would never forget wrestling Brett's still warm body into the back seat of his own car. Throwing up all over the front of her shirt. Trying to wipe the blood off her hands with rough brown napkins she'd found in the glove box.

  “Gracie, you've got to hold it together right now.” David grasped her by her shoulders.

  “It’s not just tonight. My whole life has gone to hell. ” She slipped her arms around his narrow waist and hid her face in his shoulder. His bare skin was burning hot to the touch. She would have thought he was feverish if she hadn't known the furnace effect was normal for him.“Just hold me for a minute, okay?”

  David said nothing as she pressed her cheek into his skin and took a deep breath. He smelled like a mixture of sweat, Addison's cigarettes, cheap soap and too much whiskey. She could feel his pulse against her skin as she closed her eyes and just listened to the steady bump-bump of blood pumping through his heart.

  Gracie couldn't stop the sobs and she didn't try. Instead she let David hold her until the urge to start screaming and never stop began to fade away.

  She had no idea how long she stood in his embrace and cried.

  Eventually she became aware of her own nakedness and the chill of the cold fall breeze against her bare skin. Her joints felt stiff, her legs were jelly, her nose was stopped up, and she was clutching David so tightly that her knuckles were turning white.

  She opened her eyes back up and stared into his hooded green eyes. His expression was calm, flat, and completely unreadable.

  “Let’s go inside.” David released her and stretched his shoulders out with a loud crack as he scowled at the car. “I need you tell me everything that happened tonight. In detail. From the beginning.”

  “How can you be so calm?” Gracie was mildly surprised to discover she didn't just plummet to the ground. If she had hit the dirt, she wasn't sure she ever would have gotten up again. She knew she sounded pitiful and broken but she couldn't seem to pull herself together.

  “I have to be calm, Gracie. Panicking is what gets you caught.”

  Chapter 16

  The bright light from the Chevy's high beams started to dim as Cal crossed the highway between Leon's bar and the county line. At first he thought the fading light was a side effect of the bottle of liquor he'd just consumed in hopes of clearing his head. The alcohol hadn't done much help.

  He knew he should be mad at Addison for taking the diamond ring and mocking his judgment but he really couldn't seem to work up the venom. Addy had always been tactless. Cal expected his friend to behave like a spoiled ass. He hadn't been let down yet.

  It wasn't really rational to stay angry at Jo Beth either. He didn't know why he was having such a hard time forgiving her comments about having been born with the right last name. It wasn't like he didn't already know that everything he valued in life had been handed to him by virtue of being Joshua Walker's grandson. Well, everything except Gracie.

  Damn, that still stung.

  Even in his current state of intoxication, he realized the truth when it slapped him in the face.

  Gracie was one of the few people in Possum Creek who wasn't impressed with Cal because he was a Walker. She'd always mocked him about his status in the community. Teased him by calling him the Future Mayor of Possum Creek. It wasn't much of a joke. His father and his grandfather had both served terms in public office. He would likely do the same. Whether he wanted to or not.

  Cal was good at being Possum Creek's Golden Boy. Not quite as golden as Addison maybe but damn good at playing his little role in the daily soap opera that was life in Callahan County. All Cal had to do was keep doing exactly what he had been doing his entire life, and he'd be set.

  Except Gracie didn't want to be married to the Future Mayor of Possum Creek.

  Jo Beth probably did. Hell, Jo Beth probably wanted to be the next Mayor of Possum Creek.

  Addison was right. Cal didn't want to be married to Jo Beth. Matching sweater sets and minivans for the rest of his life. Filling out purchasing orders and restocking shelves until he was driven completely insane by the monotony.

  Assuming Walker Hardware didn't get gobbled up by some giant corporate mega-store. Cal shook his head and sighed. April Lynne and his father assumed the business was safe from failure. Cal was a bit more pessimistic. He had seen the sales data. At the moment, Walker Hardware was holding its own. It was still in the black because it had kept the prices low enough to be competitive and opened up an online store selling hard to come by specialty items to customers across the nation. Besides, most Possum Creek residents just flat out didn't want to drive 45 minutes to pick up a P-trap or a couple of 2 x 4's to fix a broken fence. They didn't want to wait three to five business days for a $3 part they ordered online to be shipped to their door.

  Times were definitely changing though. Hell, Cal had noticed his own shopping habits changing. It made more sense to drive to Canterville once a week and do all his shopping in one quick trip to Walmart than it did to drive to four different mom and pop stores in Possum Creek, hoping they had whatever it was he happened to be after.

  Like a new battery for his truck.

  Cal cursed as the headlights went out completely and the dashboard warning lights all came on at once. It was rapidly becoming apparent that the malfunction with his truck was something a little more tangible than intoxication. There was a significant possibility his alternator was completely fried. Again.

  Cal cursed under his breath as the engine cut out completely. He muscled the jacked up pick-up onto the shoulder of the road without the benefit of power steering.

  Of all the damn nights for his truck to decide to act up, it had to pick the night his parents thought he was staying with Jo Beth and Jo Beth thought he was home asleep in his bed like a good church-going boyfriend ought to be.

  He turned the key several times without getting anything more than a weak twitch from the engine. Dead Battery. Dead alternator. Dead meat if a cop drove up who wasn't Addison Malone or Ian McIntyre. Or Frank Chasson. Or, hell, Jo was probably right when she'd said he didn't have to worry about the cops. No one was going to arrest him for being intoxicated while broke down on the side of the damn road.

  He considered his options as he slid out of the driver's seat of the truck, stumbling slightly. He had no idea what his blood alcohol level was but he was willing to bet one broke-ass Chevrolet he was well over the .08 legal limit.

  He reached under the dashboard and popped the hood. Not that it did any good. He wasn't carrying a jump pack with him and jumper cables weren't much good if you didn't have a running vehicle to hook them to.

  He kicked the front tire in irritation. Maybe it was time to trade this bastard in on a new Z71. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and scanned through the contact list, debating whether there was anyone worth calling to come get him.

  His folks and Jo Beth were out of the question. He wasn't in the mood for any more bitching tonight.

  Addison never answered his damned phone.

  David was probably passed out drunk.

  On the bright side, David's place was only a couple of miles up the road from where he was standing. Cal wasn't in the best physical shape, but he figured he could manage a two-mile hike. David was going to have to come get the damn truck in the morning in order to fix it anyhow. He might as well just head to David's and deal with the truck when the sun came up.

  Cal sighed, slammed the hood shut, and began walking down the dark shoulder of the deserted highway.

  Chapter 17

  “Well, that was fun,” Jo Beth said to Addison as he tossed the dead raccoon into the bed of his truck.

  “Yeah. I love it when work makes me bleed.” Addison glared down at the various cuts and scratches he had accum
ulated between the tussle with the raccoon and the holes in the trailer floor.

  “I think your jeans have had it.” She was eyeballing the rip that had created a 12-inch slit down the left leg.

  “It's cool. They're David's anyway,” Addison shrugged. “I'm kind of glad I wasn't wearing my uniform now. Uniform pants aren't cheap.”

  “Your shirt is David's too,” Jo gestured at it.

  “Everything I'm wearing is David's. My clothes are in his washer. I fell in the mud when I lost my phone.”

  “You're wearing David's underwear?” Jo blinked at him in disgust.

  “Um, no. I'm actually not wearing any-.”

  “Stop now.” She cut him off mid-sentence. “I don't want to know you're free-balling.”

  “Too late.” Addison grinned and thumbed the slit in the pant leg at her. He pretended to show off his pale, hairy thigh. Jo rolled her eyes at him and started to head back towards her car.

  “You are so gross.”

  Addison turned towards his own truck and frowned as he looked back down at the dead raccoon again. She might be a bitch, but Jo Beth had saved his ass tonight. “Hey, wait.”

  She turned around looking irritated. “What?”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “For what?”

  He jerked his head towards the trailer. “Everything you just did.”

  “Oh, yeah. That.” Jo Beth gave him a small smile. “No big deal. It had to be dealt with at some point.”

  Addison snorted and ran one hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, I owe you on this one.”

  “You kind of do, don't you?” Jo looked at him thoughtfully and he had a sudden feeling of impending doom.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Let me see the ring.”

  Addison's jaw nearly hit the ground. He decided to try to play dumb. “What ring?”

  “The one you took out of Cal's glove box earlier.” Jo Beth held out her hand. “I don't want to keep it. I'm just curious to actually see what it looks like.”

  “You knew about it?”

  “You knew about it.” She smirked at him. “Everyone in town knows about it. Not to mention Cal doesn't keep condoms in his glove box.” “I'm on really good birth control.”

  Addison stood there and blinked at her in disbelief for a few moments. “I don't have it.”

  “Don't lie to me.” She glared at him.

  “I'm not. I left it at David's for safekeeping. Figured he could put it in the gun safe or something,” he shrugged. “Cal would be pissed as fuck if I lost it. Let’s face it; I lose shit all the time. Like my phone, lost that earlier tonight. It’s either at David's or in Lou Kramer's pasture. Couldn't tell you which. Diamonds are a lot safer with David.”

  “Okay, I'll buy that,” Jo said. They stood in silence for a moment and studied one another.

  “How pissed off are you that I took the ring?” Addison was remembering her accuracy with the little pink pistol.

  Jo Beth shook her head. “Honestly, I'm kind of relieved. If you have it then it means he won't be proposing any time soon.”

  Addison stared at her. He was completely stunned for the second time in less than an hour. “You don't want to marry Cal?”

  “It's not that I don't want to marry him. I love Cal, it's just-.” Jo Beth shrugged and leaned back against her car. “It's just too soon.”

  “Too soon?” Addy was baffled. He would have sworn Jo Beth wanted nothing more than to get Cal down the aisle.

  “I think he wants to propose to me to prove to himself that he's over Gracie,” she admitted. “I appreciate the gesture, but I'm not getting married until I'm sure Cal loves me for who I am. I don't think he does. He just wants to believe that he does.”

  Addison opened his mouth and then closed it. “I don't have anything to say to that except I agree with you. Cal's never going to get over my sister.”

  “I really hope you're wrong. I want to marry Cal, but only if I'm 100 percent positive Cal is marrying me because he loves me. The last thing I want is to walk down the aisle at Possum Creek Baptist wondering if Cal's wishing I were Gracie. I deserve more than that.” Jo brushed an imaginary strand of hair away from her eyes.

  “I told him he could have it back when he convinced me that getting married was something he truly wanted to do,” Addison said.

  “That's fair,” Jo said. “I probably owe you for that.”

  “I guess we're even then.” He considered her for a moment. She was leaning against the car looking preppy and prissy and giving no indication she was toting around a pink gun in her pocket. Maybe Cal was right about her after all. The gun thing was kind of hot. As if she was reading his mind, Jo Beth made her fingers into the shape of a gun and made a shooting gesture directly at his family jewels. Addison flinched. Jo grinned, got in her car, and drove off into the night.

  Chapter 18

  “He was probably so fucking high that he never noticed the gun.” David paced back and forth from one end of the tiny living room to the other. He never had been able to think when he was standing still. A kind of nervous energy seemed to flow out of him and into the room surrounding them.

  Gracie had curled into a ball on David's ancient, threadbare velveteen couch. She hadn't been able to stop shivering even though he'd turned the trailer's heater on at full blast at her request. David had gone to his bedroom and brought out his ancient camouflage comforter for her to bundle up in. It had only helped a little bit. He had also brought her the bottle of cheap moonshine he kept in his freezer “for emergencies” but she wasn't sure she'd be able to stomach the burning alcohol. The crying had left her feeling strangely numb but still vaguely nauseous. “I wasn't even aiming for his face, David. I was trying to shoot him in the chest. I don't know why I shot him in the face.”

  “You shot him in the face because you're a lousy shot.” David paused briefly in his pacing to cast an edgy glance out the back window. He'd parked Brett's car in a secluded patch of brushy woods at the edge of the backyard. He kept checking outside as if he expected Brett's corpse to get up and drive away in the car. “You're sure he was going to rape you?”

  “He was going to rape me and I think he was going to kill me afterwards. He said he was going to make sure that I would never be able to tell anyone what he did to me.” She traced the rings on the surface of the warped old coffee table with her finger tip.

  “Nice. He deserved to die.” David paused mid-step step and cut his hooded green eyes at her. “I just wish he hadn't been the governor's nephew.”

  “Me too.” Gracie pulled the edges of the comforter tighter around her shoulders. “This has been the worst mistake of my life.”

  “Dating him or killing him?” David picked up the bottle of moonshine she'd abandoned on the coffee table. He held it up in the dim light of the ceiling fan and frowned at the clear liquid.

  “Both.”

  “I do wish you had killed someone a bit less politically connected.” David sat the bottle back down on the coffee table without opening it. He rubbed his eyes with his right hand as he sat down on the coffee table. His face was only a couple of inches from Gracie's, but she kept her eyes focused on a large burned spot on the surface of the table. “You realize they're going to look for him, right?”

  “I know.” Gracie wished she could close her eyes and wake up to discover this had all been a bad dream.

  “His family has money. If they care about him at all then they're going to look for him when they realize he's gone. The Parkers have enough political power to make the cops look long and hard for their missing kid.”

  Gracie fought to swallow the growing lump in her throat. “I really screwed up, didn't I?”

  “Not if he was really going to rape you and kill you.” David reached out and took her hand in his. He pulled her fingers into his lap. “Look at me, Gracie.”

  She blinked away tears as she forced herself to meet his eyes. “I screwed up, David. Just say it.”

  “You
did what you felt you had to do.” He held up his free hand when she started to turn away from him. “Hear me out, kid. Mitchell Parker got caught in bed with a congressman's wife last year. He's already sitting in some pretty hot water when it comes to this next election.”

  “So?” Gracie felt hot tears running down her cheeks. She clung to David's hand as if she were drowning and he was her last lifeline.

  “The Parkers can't afford another scandal. There was a backpack full of illegal prescription drugs in the backseat of that car. I assume that means your boy was dealing as well as using.” David raised one eyebrow at her.

  She nodded and he continued.

  “If you had called the cops, they would have found you in a car with the governor's dead nephew and a back pack full of illegal drugs.”

  “The drugs were Brett's. I didn't have anything to do with them. I didn't even know he had them until after-.”

  “Why would they believe you?” David cut her off.

  “What?”

  “Why should the cops believe you?” His eyes were deceptively calm as he asked a question that sent Gracie's stomach plummeting down into her bowels.

  “It’s the truth.”

  David laughed. “No one cares about the truth, Gracie. Not once the damage is already done. Your story is that he was on drugs when he tried to rape you, and you accidentally killed him when you fought back. The Parkers' story is going to be that a girl on drugs murdered their son. I bet they'll say you killed him so you could steal his money.”

  “What money?”

  “This money.” David pulled a thick wad of cash out of his pocket and spread it out across the scarred wooden table. “Your boy was carrying around a little over $8,000. Probably drug money. Not that we could prove it. Drug money and trust fund money look just the same after the initial transaction is done.”

  Gracie blinked at him in absolute horror. “You really think they would pin the drugs on me?”

  “You think I'm just trying to scare you?”

  “No,” Gracie shook her head vehemently. “You wouldn't do that.”