Рита Браун - Outfoxed

He nodded that he did.

Bobby stepped down with an oomph. His knees hurt from carting around all that weight. “Guess there are no secrets in this club.”

“You don’t have to answer this, but do you take drugs?”

“No. I’ll drink sometimes but I can pretty well keep a lid on it.”

“Thank you for being honest with me.” Betty touched his shoulder.

On the way home Bobby fumed first about that conversation but then about Fontaine. “He’s going to tear this club apart. He’s going to undo all the good that Sister and Raymond built over the years. He didn’t have to bring that up about Tabor Lungrun. We all know why he brought it up.”

“The young people don’t remember.”

“They’ll know now. They’ll ask and the whole thing will be like fresh paint.”

“It was murky.”

“Murky. It was business, Princess. Crawford put up the money and Tabor put up the work. They went into the cattle business together twenty years ago. The market crashed. Tabor lost everything. Crawford could take it as a tax write-off. That’s not dishonest.”

“Buying Tabor’s farm at a bargain basement price is dicey.”

“Business, Princess, business. The Lungruns never had much anyway. He had to sell the farm to keep the family going.”

“Well, he loved that farm. He’d worked and scratched and scrimped. You know the Lungruns are made fun of in these parts, poor whites. He pulled himself up and then was brought down. Crawford could have floated him a loan or helped. No. He took advantage of him.”

“Crawford is from Indiana. He doesn’t think like we do. To him it was a matter of numbers.”

“That poor man loved every blade of grass on that farm. Luckily he didn’t live to see Crawford sell it eight years later at an enormous profit. No, by that time he’d shot himself, the poor bastard.”

Bobby softened somewhat. “Terrible thing. Leaving those little kids with no father.”

“And Libby Lungrun about killed herself working two jobs. She did kill herself. I think cancer can be brought on by worry.”

“Honey, you read too many books about that stuff.” He exhaled as they turned into their small farm entrance. “She was something to look at, Libby Olson.” He called her by her maiden name.

Betty cast him a sly glance. “Yes.”

“When a man stops looking he’s dead.”

“Just so you don’t punish me for the same thing. That son of hers could have stepped right out of a movie. The old movies when they were all handsome.”

“Guess he could.”

As they pulled in front of the small, neat barn Betty said, “Bobby, you ought to reconsider supporting Crawford. It’s not going to work.”

“Well, it’s not going to work with Fontaine either!” He tried to change the subject. “Walter’s made something of himself. Lost track of him after he graduated from high school.”

“I’m warning you. This is going to blow up in your face. We have enough trouble as it is with two girls in the hospital and everyone in the county buying laser printers. Let’s tend to our own business. Jane will do what’s right.”

“Sister Jane doesn’t have many choices.”

“Crawford isn’t one of them!” Betty slammed the truck door hard and stomped to the back of the trailer. She let the ramp down with a thud, narrowly missing her foot.

CHAPTER 19

Sister Jane and Douglas stood up, groaning. Without thinking about it they mirrored each other, putting their hands in the small of their backs.

She laughed when she saw him. “You’re too young to ache.”

“Bending over like that really gets me.”

They’d examined each hound that hunted that morning. When hounds came off the party wagon they walked back into the draw run and then each hound was pulled out, paws inspected, everything checked, and then sent back to their various kennel runs. The only way to properly do this was to bend over or kneel down. If you knelt down, your knees hurt. If you bent over, your back hurt. They alternated pains.

Shaker slipped on arriving back at the kennel, going down hard. He must have clenched his jaw with special force because he cracked a back tooth and part of the filling fell out. He would have finished his kennel chores despite his discomfort but Sister forced him to get right back in the farm truck and hurry to the dentist. She believed the farther away a pain was from your head the less it hurt.

“We deserve a reward. Come on. I’ll make you a fried-egg sandwich.”

Doug happily trailed after her. They walked into the kitchen, where Golly had tossed bell peppers on the floor.

“Now why would she want to do that?”

“Meanness,” Raleigh answered.

Douglas bent over, handing one to Sister. “She’s bitten holes in this one.”

“I wonder if I could get a video of that? You know that TV show, home videos or pet videos. Whatever. Golly can just start earning her keep here.”

From the next room a strong meow was heard. “I do earn my keep.”

Smiling, Sister Jane tiptoed to the swinging door between the kitchen and the pantry, which then opened onto a huge dining room with a fireplace so gigantic a person could stand up straight in it. On the middle shelf of the pantry, nestled in the dish towels, reposed the calico.

“Aha.”

“Got bored.”

“Imagine what would have happened if I’d done that,” Raleigh, still in the kitchen, complained.

“What would have happened is you would have drooled over everything and then stepped on a pepper and squashed it. I merely sank my fangs in. A simple test for freshness.”

Golly’s jabber amused Sister, who reached down into a square basket, retrieving fresh eggs. “I’m making fried-egg sandwiches. If you care to join us, I’ll fry you an egg.”

“I’ll come if you fry bacon.” Golly rolled over to show her tum-tum.

Sister walked back in. “She’s talking a whole row.”

“Cats are funny.”

As she greased the skillet, Sister chatted and then asked, “Did you know about Cody’s drug problems?”

A silence followed. Then Doug said, “I did.”

“Don’t worry. You aren’t betraying a confidence. Betty called me yesterday and told me both girls are at rehab or in rehab. I wonder what’s correct? Anyway . . . Bobby’s not much help. He’s pretending it’s like a broken leg.”

“Mrs. Franklin told me this morning.”

“But you knew about the drugs, I mean?”

“Well, I did, sort of. Cody goes on and off. I wasn’t sure about Jennifer. I don’t see her except when we’re hunting and usually she’s fine then.”

“Yes. I had no idea. I wonder what else I miss.” She buttered the whole wheat bread as the bacon sizzled.

Golly graced them with her presence, entering with a flourish as the bacon was flipped out of the pan.

“Don’t even think about stealing my bacon.” Raleigh frowned.

“I’ll do as I please and if you value your eyes, you’ll do as I please.” She cackled.

Sister tore up a strip of bacon in small pieces, putting it on the counter for Golly. She gave Raleigh a whole strip when he sat. Then she put plates on the table.

“Drugs are all around.” Doug opened his sandwich to put pickles on the egg.

“I guess they are”—she sat opposite him—“if you know where to look.”

They both looked at the door because they heard a car drive into the driveway.

“Let’s hope it’s UPS so we can eat in peace.”

It wasn’t. It was Crawford Howard in his big-ass Mercedes, the V-12, the top of the top.

He knocked on the back door, then charged on through the mudroom into the kitchen. Most old friends walked in on Sister Jane, although she’d never considered Crawford an old friend.