Cold in July

21

We ate at the Holiday Inn restaurant, or rather Jim Bob did. The rest of us had tea and coffee and Ann had a slice of apple pie. Jim Bob ordered steak and baked potato and all the trimmings, and when he took his first bite of steak he waved the waitress over and told her, “Honey, take this cow on back and finish killing it. Set the little buddy on fire for about three more minutes then bring it back to me.”

While Jim Bob waited on the steak, he and Russel talked about old times, and laughed. Ann and I felt a little limp, as if we had gone to the wrong party.

When Jim Bob’s steak came back he thanked the waitress and ordered a Lone Star Light. “Got to watch my girlish figure,” and he went at his food with gusto, saying, “Brain food.”

“Then you better eat plenty of it,” Ann said.

I looked at her. Russel looked at her. Jim Bob looked at her, and laughed. “Ain’t that the damned truth,” he said.

“Pass that salad dressing. The one that looks like someone threw up in the bottle.”

Ann looked at him blankly and passed the dressing. Well, Jim Bob wasn’t easy to insult, and I had a feeling that was because he’d had plenty of practice dodging catty remarks.

“Now, what we have here,” Jim Bob said, “is a real strange situation. And whatever is going on, the cops are in on it. And I figure that new tan Ford that followed us from across the highway after we left that sleaze motel is a cop car, and the fella that parked it out in the lot and come in here when we did and is sitting over there drinking his twelfth cup of coffee and rereading the sports section for the third time is a cop. Cops and cop cars go together, as the little ole man said. Whatever you people have put your feet in, it’s deep stuff.”

“You don’t know that’s a cop,” Ann said.

“No, ma’am, I don’t. But I figure it is, and I figure pretty good. Wouldn’t have been in this line of work long as I have if I didn’t. And if you feel a little hostile to me, that’s all right, sister. I don’t blame you. I know Ben here, and after what he’s done you’re connecting me with him. We’re friends, but we’re separate, and what he did was a killing offense. I’d have killed him myself. But we’re past that. Ben was a little crazy, but now he’s right as rain, or as right as he gets. So we’re gonna work together, or let’s just get this over so I can take ole Ben back to Houston for a three-day drunk and see if I can get him a job somewhere. What say? We gonna work together or not?”

“I didn’t say anything about any of that,” Ann said.

“Well, you did and you didn’t. What’s it gonna be, Mr. and Mrs. Dane?”

I looked at Ann.

Ann said, “All right. The man over there is a policeman, and we’ll work together.”

“Good,” Jim Bob said. “What we’re gonna have to do first is go out there and dig up that fella you shot.”

“What?” I said.

“You heard me. I want to be sure that the dead fella isn’t Freddy. I know what you’ve said, and I don’t think you’re a liar, but you could be wrong. He could have changed a lot. The color of the eyes you could have been wrong about. I’ve dealt with a lot of eyewitnesses, and what they remember ain’t always how it was. In your case, you may not want that ole burglar to be Freddy, but it could be.”

“No way,” I said.

“That’s the rules,” Jim Bob said. “We start there. If it is Freddy, then we figure why they let Ben out so easy and take it from there. If it ain’t Freddy, we play another angle. And let me add this.” He looked at Russel. “If it is Freddy, and if you’re still thinking you got to hurt Mr. Dane or his family here, well, Ben, ole hoss, I’ll just have to blow your brains out and put you in the hole with him and cover you up. Got me?”

Russel grinned at him. “I may not let you.”

“We can always hope we don’t have to find that out, can’t we?”

“Yeah,” Russel said. “I wouldn’t want to kill you, Jim Bob, we been friends too long.”

“It would pain me too. Killing you or getting killed by you, so let’s just hope that don’t come up.”

“It won’t. If it’s Freddy, then I’ll accept he was burglarizing Dane’s house and Dane had to kill him.” Russel looked at me. “I know now you didn’t just shoot him unarmed and plant a gun. You aren’t like that.”

“My, haven’t we gotten to be chummy,” Ann said.

“And little lady,” Jim Bob said, “you keep that sarcastic edge, cause we’re gonna need it to keep us sharp. Now, let me finish up this feast, then I’d like to get Ben and me checked into a room. Mr. and Mrs. Dane, y’all go on home and I’ll call you. And if you’re starting to sweat a little bit in the pocketbook and wondering what I’m gonna cost you, it’sst s, I like this. Three hundred dollars a day, no expenses. I cut that cause I know Ben. As for the stay at the Holiday Inn for me and Ben, I got that covered. If that sounds steep to you, don’t know what to tell you. That’s the price. I don’t just do this for my health and I ain’t so friendly to Ben here I’ll do it for free.”

“That’s all right,” I said.

“It’s high,” Ann said.

“It’ll do,” I said.

Jim Bob laughed. “Don’t you just love women? They can squeeze a dollar till it farts-no offense ma’am. Listen, you two go home and I’ll call you when I want you. I won’t give details over the phone. I’ll just call and you come here and we’ll talk in person. Way this is shaping up, could be something big and nasty going on here, and if that’s the case, they’re out at your place tapping the phones right now.”

I thought about that and couldn’t really imagine it. It sounded too much like one of those bad made-for-television movies.

“If the fella over there follows you out and follows you home, don’t pay him no mind. It don’t mean a thing. Or he might have a buddy follow you. But you just go home and wait. Got me?”

“Got you,” I said.

“Lady,” Jim Bob said, “you don’t have to come back if you don’t want to. But if you come, I want you to be cooperative, and I don’t want you worrying about snagging your panty hose or such. We’ll be humping right along, I figure, and we don’t need no slackers.”

“I assure you, Mr. Jim Bob,” Ann almost whistled through her teeth, “I’m not a slacker.”

“I didn’t actually figure you for one,” Jim Bob said.

“Jim Bob likes to ingratiate himself with his clients,” Russel said. “Make ‘em feel trusted and warm.”

“My business ain’t public relations-unless I’m lying for a good reason,” Jim Bob said. “But I don’t lie to my employers. It’s not the way it’s done.”

Ann got up and started out of the hotel restaurant without saying a word. I stood and took out my wallet.

“Nah,” Jim Bob said. “You folks just had pie and coffee. I’ll get it and the tip. Go on and catch up with her. And, Dane, tell her she’s right, three hundred a day is high. But I’m the best there is, and by God, I don’t normally pay my own expenses.”

· · ·

On the way home Ann turned the radio on too loud and sat on the far side of the car with her arms crossed, and after a while she turned the radio off and drummed her fingers on the dash. Jordan was in the backseat looking puzzled. Ever since we had picked him up at the day school he had known something was going on, but he didn’t know exactly what.

“Mommy, you mad at Daddy?”

“Just a little,” she said.

“Don’t be mad at Daddy. ”

“It’ll pass,” she said.

God, I hoped so.

When we got home, we made arrangements for the Fergusons to keep Jordan. They had kids and we kept them sometimes, and we were actually owed a couple of overnight sleeps, which was the big thing with Jordan and their boys lately. Sometimes Jordan had to call us at bedtime and be reassured, but all in all he didn’t mind. And by the next day, we would practically have to pry the kids apart to get Jordan to go home.

Ann took Jordan to their house while I sat watching TV, but really listening for the phone. Wanting it to ring. Wanting to get on with things.

Nothing happened.

Ann came back and we finally went to bed about ten and made love, which wasn’t too good because she was still mad at me. Or mad at Jim Bob really, but I was handy. She said something about, “I’ll make that goddamn bastard think snag my panty hose” a couple of times before we gave it up for the night and she rolled into my arms and I held my hand between her legs and buried my nose in the fragrance of her hair. And just as I was drifting into sleep, the phone rang.

I got to it without turning over the nightstand and groped it off the hook and coughed something into it.

“Get on up here,” Jim Bob said.

“Yeah,” I said. “Coming.”

“You awake?”

“About half-ass.”

“Well be whole-ass by the time you get here, got me?”

I said something and lay back down. Ann rolled over and put her arm around my chest. “Jim Bob?”

“Yeah. We’ve got to go meet him.”

“Does that mean we don’t have time for a quickie?”

“He didn’t say anything about a time limit,” I said.

Our lovemaking was rushed, but Ann wasn’t mad anymore, and it was better than when we had spent more time. I knew why.

We were both scared.