Deep Fried and Pickled (Book One - The Rachael O'Brien Chronicles) (19 page)

“At what?”

“It started at the poker table. Stewart said something that pissed Billy Ray off and he flipped the game table.”

“There’s a lot of toppling going around, and Katie Lee is the one who has to deal with the mess.”

Bridget held my gaze, giving me the silent answer to what I knew. Local stuff does not impair hearing or cause hallucinations. Nash was a douche bag, and Bridget, a conniving bitch who pretended to be Katie Lee’s friend. Tempted to tell her off, I held back. It wasn’t something that should be leaked in a room full of people. That would only spiral the evening into torrential drama. I’d wait to expose Katie Lee’s cheater pants boyfriend, and double-crossing frenemy.

Patsy and I went upstairs to find some cleaning supplies, and I spotted Mitch and Clive outside. The basement brawl replaced my lust hormones with sobered up sensibilities. As adorable as I found Patsy’s younger brother, it probably wasn’t a brilliant idea to become involved with a minor.

In the family room, Patsy and I heard loud gasps. Katie Lee sat hunched on Nash’s lap. “It was supposed to be their twenty- fifth anniversary celebration champagne. The bottle was from a vineyard in France where they spent their honeymoon.”

Patsy kissed the top of Katie Lee’s head. “We’ll help you clean up.”

“Some of the bottles on the floor aren’t even broken,” I said. “Maybe it’s not as horrible as it seems.”

Katie Lee smiled at us and blew her nose. “Billy Ray is a prick. Who the hell invited him anyway?”

“Come on,” Nash said, gripping Katie Lee’s hand. I watched him lead her out the kitchen door and I thought I’d barf.

Mitch and Patsy hugged me before they left. I turned off lights as I made my way upstairs. Buzzed and tired, I decided I needed a clear head before I said anything to Katie Lee, and decided to wait until morning.

The second floor was dark and quiet. Before settling into the front guest room, I checked on Macy, fast asleep in Katie Lee’s bed. Shutting the door behind me, I moved down the hall and bumped into Bridget.

“What a night,” she said.

“For you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“In trashing Katie Lee’s relationship. Why did you screw Nash?”

Before she could hide the truth with lies, she froze.

I brushed her hair on her left back. “Missing an earring? I heard you in the master bedroom.”

She pulled me into the sewing room. “It’s not what you think.”

I didn’t speak. I wasn’t going to help her explain.

“Katie Lee is an amazing person. I did her a favor.”

A toy-dog bark screeched from my throat. This was going to be good.

“Nash isn’t right for her. She deserves better, and I sacrificed a few minutes of my time to prove it.”

“That’s big of you. Have you told her what you’ve done?”

“Not yet, but I intend to.”

“And you think--she’s going to thank you for your sacrifice? Do you plan on charging her for your time?”

“Rachael, come on. I know it was unconventional, and she may lash out initially, but Nash Wilson is not boyfriend material.”

“I’ll agree with you there.”

“So you won’t tell her? You’ll let me?”

“You’re the one who graciously offered yourself to prove a point, you tell her. But if you don’t, I will.” Spinning around, I left her in my dust. Slamming the bedroom door, I locked it.

My blood pumped, and I felt jittery. This was not the scheme I had wanted to uncover. It was late, and the house smelled partified. I lifted the blind and cranked open the double pane window. The blanket of vapor that had snuck up the riverbank, now draped its eerie cloak over the magnolia trees. Nash’s voice carried from somewhere in the night. Flicking the switch on the wall plate off, my eyes adjusted to the dark. The mist gave Billy Ray’s purple shirt a ghostly aura. I pressed my ear to the screen.
What was Billy Ray still doing here? And where was Katie Lee?

Billy Ray’s feet staggered, and he windshield-wipered a thick finger in front of Nash’s eyes. “Ten-thousand,” he said, poking Nash’s chest. “I want it, now.”

Nash gripped Billy Ray’s wrist. “Keep your voice down. I told you, it’s tucked away.”

Billy Ray shook loose and leaned into Nash’s face. “Don’t fuck with me.”

NOTE TO SELF

Small get-together is code for bash.

Nash drugged Macy and slept with Bridget. There’s gonna be trouble when Katie Lee finds out.

Nash must have stolen money out of the suitcase and Billy Ray wants it back. Guessing Nash doesn’t have it under his mattress.

19

S
omeone
P
lease
T
ell
M
e
W
hat
H
appened

Toilet-flushing
and pipe-rattling noises woke me up. With Frankenstein precision, I shuffled to the bathroom sink and drank from a Dixie cup before sticking my head under the running faucet and guzzled. I pretended not to recognize my reflection. My matted hair stuck to the side of my head, smeared mascara circled my eyes, and I wore my T-shirt inside out, back-to-front, with the wash instruction tag hanging under my chin.

The sensible thing to do would be to go back to bed, but my armpits stuck together, and I wore an avid outdoorsy scent. Sitting on the edge of the tub, I rotated the shower knob and waited for hot water. Inflamed red bumps covered my sensitive areas, triggering my memory. The only thing I’d figured out last night was that it’s entirely possible to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time, more than once on an evening. I’d been attacked by a swarm of chiggers, kind of made-out with a minor, witnessed a basement brawl, and hadn’t gotten around to telling Katie Lee that her boyfriend had slept with Bridget and owed Billy Ray ten thousand dollars.

As I rinsed away last night’s party funk, knots tied inside my stomach, and an inner turmoil regarding Katie Lee’s reaction to Bridget’s forthcoming confession manifested inside my chest. Before today ended, Katie Lee was going to freak. Bridget would probably get a purple eye and be paying for a one-way ticket on a Greyhound Bus back to Greensboro. I needed to brace myself for the verbal outlash and tears that would be forthcoming.

I heard shouting, and wrapped my head in a towel turban. I hopped on one foot to unplug the water in my ear. Definitely yelling. Mostly profanities with a southern drawl. An engine revved outside the bedroom window. I threw on clean underwear and a fresh T-shirt, before kneeling under the billowing shade.

Beyond the magnolia tree’s, Nash’s stationary truck was missing both rear tires and the wheel drums rested on cement blocks. Both rear tires were missing. Wearing only jeans, he ran down the street and launched a rock at a red turbo Mustang that sped away. “You speed on home and climb back in bed with your mama. You deep-fried chicken shit.” If he was trying to wake the neighbors, he was doing a great job.

Slipping some clothes on, I brushed out my hair and checked outside the window again. Nash walked up the driveway, and smacked unsuspecting foliage with a stick he’d found.

I hustled downstairs to find out what was going on. At the kitchen table, Macy nursed a can of Mountain Dew through a straw. She wore a black dragon kimono robe and her hair was clumped in unnatural angles. “You aren’t looking so good.”

“I feel like dog-do.”

“Where’s Katie Lee?”

“Outside.”

“Bridget?”

The door to the garage slammed shut. Out of breath, Katie Lee said, “Still asleep, in my parents’ room.”

So, Bridget hadn’t rushed down to have a heart to heart with Katie Lee over toast and coffee.

“Why is Nash’s truck on cement blocks, and did I just see him in a sprint, without a shirt, shouting obscenities in the street?”

Katie Lee shook her head heavenward. “Billy Ray’s pissed that Nash kicked him out last night. He stole a couple of wheels off the Dodge truck.”

Macy removed her lips from the straw. “That’s fucked up.”

“Where’s Nash now?” I asked, wondering if he’d gone to fetch ten thousand from under his mattress.

“He took Big Blue.”

I tweaked my head. “You let him have the keys to your car?”

“How else would he get his tires back?” Macy said.

“Guess we’ll all be bussing it back to Greensboro,” I mumbled.

Katie Lee poured a bowl of dry cereal and picked out the colored marshmallows. “So Macy, did you fool around with Stewart Hayes?”

Macy curled her lips in a toothless smile. “He nibbled on my neck, and I was into him.” Her raspy voice sounded like she’d been screaming at a concert all night. “Before we went upstairs, I needed to take pregnancy precautions, but I’d left my safety gear in my travel case, inside Big Blue.”

I put my hand in the air like a stop sign. “Do we really need these details for this story?”

“Yes,” she growled. “Now where was I?”

Katie Lee reminded her, “You’d secured your diaphragm.”

“Right, I grabbed a drink before I went looking for Stewart and bumped into Nash and Bridget.”

Macy was getting to the juicy part when the phone rang. “Hold it right there y’all,” Katie Lee said, “I don’t want to miss anything.”

Softening her voice, Macy confessed, “That blue pill Nash gave me knocked me on my ass.”

“Really.”

“Nash is a terrible pharmacist.”

“He’s a prison sentence waiting to happen,” I said.

Katie Lee walked back into the room. “That was Patsy. She’s on her way. Keep goin’.”

“I was headed upstairs,” Macy said, “to fool around with Stewart when I started chatting with Nash. He offered me some pills, and I took one.”

With a mouth full of milky cereal, Katie Lee asked, “What kind of pill?”

Macy rested her head on her arms and groaned. “I didn’t ask.”

Pushing her breakfast aside, Katie Lee sighed. “Nash thinks he has emotional anxieties. Even though I wish he wouldn’t, he relies on meds.”

As Katie Lee confided in us, I hoped she felt queasy from being spun by Nash’s Tilt A Wheel of lies and deceitful behavior. If she was near her breaking-up-point, maybe Bridget’s confession would convince her to make a clean break.

“His family life hasn’t been the greatest. He escapes with drugs and alcohol.” The corners of her eyes clouded. “He’s never straight with me. When I ask him what’s going on, we end up fighting. Last night was another big blowout, and we didn’t make up until early this morning. Y’all, I love him, and I know I can help him.”

URG. That did not sound like a pre-breakup statement.

Katie Lee blew her nose, and turned to face Macy. “Did you sleep with Stewart or what?”

“Sleep with him. Yes. Have sex with him, I don’t think so.”

“How can you not know?” I asked.

Footsteps disturbed a kitchen floorboard and Macy closed her open mouth. A few strands of Bridget’s blonde hair fell out of an otherwise perfect ponytail. Her makeup looked fresh, and her eyes avoided mine. I hadn’t forgotten her plea. I intended to make sure she told Katie Lee that she’d slept with Nash and had no intention of backing down. Bridget didn’t have to worry, I’d drop her off at the bus station.

“Hey Bridget,” Katie Lee said.

Bridget acknowledged the morning with a meek wave, before staring inside the open refrigerator.

“We started fooling around upstairs,” Macy said. “But that blue pill kicked in, and I passed out. I woke up naked, but everything seemed in order south of the border.”

“Good Lord,” Katie Lee said.

Macy stood up to get another soda. She asked Bridget, “Did anything exciting happen to you last night?”

“Compared to you, I’ve got nothing.”

A BRIGHT GLARE DRENCHED warm rays on the kitchen patio and streaked past the hourglass curtains on the French doors. The sunlight blinded my vision, and I switched chairs. I didn’t need any more heat radiating on me. Bridget’s twisted deceit had charred my internal organs like a blackened marshmallow on a fire pit. She was an idiot to have slept with Nash. Katie Lee would never forgive her. I didn’t attempt to grasp either one’s interest in Nash, a guy who laundered money and was involved with God only knows what.

The audile grunts of their bedroom romp that I’d heard from behind a bathroom door had distracted my sleuthing focus. Bridget’s excuse was uber-lame, and I guessed Nash’s wouldn’t be much better. Being the recipient of deception sucked. I knew that first hand, thanks to my mother. When Katie Lee found out about Bridget’s tryst in the sheets, our connections to Nash would be history.

Katie Lee disappeared into the laundry room off the kitchen. I shot Bridget goldfish eyes while spasming my neck in Katie Lee’s direction. Bridget stared at me for two seconds, before moving away from the refrigerator. Holding a pitcher of juice, she asked Katie Lee, “Where do you keep the glasses?” If she felt remorse, I didn’t see it.

“Bridget,” I said, “I heard something happened to you last night.”

Her mouth contorted, and she wore a brain dump expression.

Katie Lee glanced from me to Bridget. Grinning, she asked, “Did you fool around?”

Bridget took a sip of juice. “I wish.”

I beaded my eyes tight, and wished I had a blowgun with venomous needles to shoot at a blonde target. “You fucking liar,” rested behind my teeth. A primal grunt shot out my mouth, but a rat, tat, tat sidetracked my impending verbal assault.

Patsy muffled, “Hey y’all,” around a powdered Krispy Kreme that clogged her pie hole. She pulled three-quarters of the donut out and asked, “How’s the basement?”

“The damage is minor,” Katie Lee said. “Nash and I used wood glue. The racks are standing. I’m just waiting for them to dry.”

“I didn’t hear a damn thing last night,” Macy said.

“How many bottles broke?” I asked.