Final Justice (13 page)

Once they were on the highway and speeding along, he said, "There's just nothing like driving at night when nobody's around. I can go as fast as I want."

Despite how happy she was to be with him, Orlena was scared. They seemed to be hurtling through the night. Suddenly she blurted, "Does Ramona mind when you drive so fast?"

"Are you kidding? She can't stay out this late. Her parents hate this car anyway. Her mother told my old man it was a sin for him to spend so much on a car when he could give the money to the Lord. And you know what he said? That she had no call to lecture him because, if it weren't for him, there wouldn't be a church, and her husband wouldn't have a job preaching there, so she'd best keep her nose out of his business."

He took another drink. "But your folks don't even know you're out, sweetheart. That's what's nice about being with you. And we can do anything we want." He squeezed her thigh.

Orlena jumped.

With a chuckle, he began to run his fingers up and down, kneading the flesh through her thin wool skirt. "Don't be scared. I've always wanted to touch you, 'cause you've got meat on your bones. Not like Ramona. She's too skinny." He made a face.

Orlena giggled and relaxed a little. If he wanted to touch her, it was okay. That meant he liked her.

She leaned her head back and dreamily said, "I don't think I've ever had such a good time."

"Well, honey pie, it's only going to get better."

She fell against him as he swerved off the highway without warning and onto a dirt road.

She righted herself. "Where are we going?"

"Ever been to Hampton Pond?"

She shook her head. She knew about it though. Everybody did. It was where Buddy and his friends went to swim in the summer. His family owned it, and every year on the 4th of July, there was a big picnic, and girls were invited with their families, of course. But Orlena had never been included. Village folks never were.

"Well, you're going now. There's a little cabin with a fireplace, and I'll get us a fire going in no time so we can warm up before heading back to town. I think Dad's got a bottle stashed away there, too." Turning the flask up, he downed what was left, then tossed it aside.

The car was bumping along, and Orlena found herself being constantly jounced against him, and while that was nice, she was getting nervous. "I don't know, Buddy. Maybe we shouldn't. I mean, if anybody ever found out, my reputation would be ruined, and my pa would kill me."

"How's anybody going to find out? You think I'd tell? Hell, no. It'll be okay. Honest." He pulled her close. "To tell you the truth, I've had my eye on you for quite a while, honey pie, and I've been hoping we'd get a chance to get to know each other better. You're a cute dish."

Orlena felt the blood rush to her cheeks. "Th.. thank you," she stammered. "It... it's nice of you to say that."

"Nice?" He squeezed her. "Honey pie, you're what's nice, and me and you are gonna have lots of fun together, okay?"

She felt silly just bobbing her head up and down as she whispered, "Okay," but couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Yep, we're gonna have us some good times, all right. You can stay out nearly all night, since your folks are bound to be sound asleep by the time you get off work. They won't know how late you get in, and if they do, hell, tell 'em you had to work overtime. If they check, I'll see that you're covered. And if you're real nice, I might even fix it so the hours you're out with me will show up on your time card. How's that? You'll be getting paid to have fun with me."

He squeezed her again, and this time his hand dropped to her breast, which unnerved her almost as much as what he had just said. Dear Lord, she couldn't stay out all night. She was a good girl, and sooner or later someone would find out, and then she'd be ruined forevermore. Besides, his saying she'd get paid to be with him somehow didn't sound nice.

She eased away from him. "I couldn't do that, Buddy, and I really think I should be getting home."

"Oh, don't be a baby."

She knew he was annoyed, but she persisted, "Please, Buddy. If my pa wakes up and finds me not home, I'm going to be in all kinds of trouble."

"That won't happen, now relax. You're starting to get on my nerves with your whining. We're gonna have us some fun."

He gave the steering wheel a sharp yank to the right, and a log cabin seemed to appear like magic, big and ghostly in the lights.

"Buddy, I want to go home." Fear was a spider, creeping up her taut spine.

"Not till I have another drink."

"I'll just wait here," she said thinly.

He grabbed her arm. "Come on. It's too cold out here."

She yielded, not wanting to make him any madder than he already was. He might just go off and leave her, and then how would she get home?

He found the key hidden over the door and let them in.

Striking a match, he glanced around and found an old oil lantern. Once it was lit, Orlena could see the tiny room and its sparse furnishings: a sofa, a long wooden table with benches down both sides, and an iron-postered bed. One corner of the room was set up as a kitchen, with cabinets and a sink with a water pump beside it.

"Pop thinks he's so smart," Buddy said as he stooped by the fireplace and pulled at a loose board. "He always makes everybody leave before he hides his hooch, but I've been knowing where he kept it for years." He took out a bottle, drank, then offered it to her.

She shook her head firmly. "No. No more. I don't like it."

She was starting to really get scared at the way he was looking at her like he could see right through her clothes. "Okay, Buddy, you've had your drink. Let's go."

"Not till we warm you up, sugar." He set the bottle aside. "You've been wanting this, and don't pretend you haven't. I hate a tease."

He tried to kiss her, and she pushed him away. "Stop it, Buddy, please. I'm not that kind of girl."

"Not that kind of girl," he mimicked, screwing up his face as he shoved her away from him so hard she stumbled and fell back on the bed. He threw himself on top of her. "Don't be stupid. I can make life real easy for you and your family. You can use extra money, and I've got plenty. All you gotta do is be nice..."

"No, Buddy. Let me go." She pounded on his back, shaking her head from side to side. "If you don't, I swear I'll tell...."

He slapped her, and as she whimpered with pain, shouted, "You little fool. You say one word, and your whole family gets fired. And nobody would believe you, anyway, because I'll say you threw yourself at me, wanting favors, and when I turned you down, you took revenge. Now don't be stupid, Orlena."

She continued to fend him off, and he finally lost his temper and hit her till she was dazed. Then he found a rope and lashed her arms to the bedposts.

"I don't want to have to rip your clothes," he said calmly as he proceeded to undress her. "You probably don't have many."

He was pulling at her bloomers when she rallied and kicked him. With a painful grunt, he fell back, but only for an instant. He doubled up his fist and pressed it against her chin. "No more, understand? Or you'll have a broken nose to explain."

Terrified, she could only lay there as he had his way with her. It hurt terribly, and when he saw the blood afterwards, said, "So you've never done it before. Who would've thought?" He shrugged. "Oh, well, it doesn't matter. Somebody had to be first."

Orlena was crying, and he yelled at her to shut up. Between sobs, she begged him to let her go, but he told her he wasn't through with her yet. She saw how he kept going to the door and looking out, and she wondered, through the pain racking her body, what he was waiting for. Then headlights flashed, and fresh terror ripped to the core of her soul as Buddy shouted, "Hey, it's about damn time you got here. I need to be home before light."

Orlena stared in wide-eyed horror as Hardy Moon and Burch Cleghorn walked in. They were Buddy's best friends.

"Oh, please, God, no." She strained at the ropes as they came toward the bed, both of them grinning.

Burch said, "You really did it, Buddy. You really got her here."

"But what's with the ropes?" Hardy pointed and looked to Buddy for explanation. "You said she'd be easy. You said you'd give her a few bucks, and she'd do us all."

Buddy explained, "She turned out to be a tease, but don't worry about it. It's all an act. She makes like she don't like it, but she does."

"Is that so, Orlena?" Burch fumbled with the buttons on his fly
.
"You playing games with us? Well, that's all right with me. Just so I get what I want."

He lowered himself on top of her, as Hardy told him to hurry up so he could have his turn.

And Orlena closed her eyes and prayed to die.

Chapter 7

Luke kept a grip on Tammy's arm to keep her from stumbling as they walked toward the funeral home. Hardy Moon, whom Luke could now easily kill with his bare hands, had really let things go to pot since he married Lucy Taylor and took over the business. The yard was mostly weeds, the picket fence was rotting, and the two-story Victorian house made him think about the one in
Psycho.
After what his mother had told him on her death bed, Luke was tempted to start acting like Norman Bates.

"Thanks to Hardy, this place is a disgrace," Alma grumbled. "Too bad it's the only funeral home in town."

Luke could agree with that but for a reason Alma would never guess. His first impulse had been to have his mother taken to a funeral home in Birmingham, but that would have raised questions he didn't want to answer. In order to limit Hardy's contact with her, Luke refused to have her embalmed.

As they neared the front porch, Alma whined, "It's not right you won't talk to me, Luke. I told you I was sorry about what happened, but I was mad at you, and besides, I didn't think it was that serious, that your mother was really about to..."

Alma fell silent as he nodded toward Tammy. It wasn't the time to talk about it, and he didn't want to anyway. It was over. And so was his marriage. He was leaving as soon as he moved them from Junior's place. He planned to stay in touch with Tammy, help with her support, and if she ever wanted to visit, he'd send her a ticket. But he was through with Hampton, by God, even though his gut burned with hunger for revenge.

Since his mother had poured out her soul, he had thought of nothing else, except trying to come up with a way to make Buddy Hampton, Burch Cleghorn, and Hardy Moon pay...

and pay big. But so far he hadn't figured out a way to do it short of cold-blooded murder.

* * *

Alma was worried about how Luke was acting. Now, more than ever, she wanted to hold her marriage together, but he was freezing her out. He hadn't even talked to her about the funeral arrangements, and she considered it a slap in the face that he'd asked Sara Speight to see to everything.

She had also been surprised when Hardy called to indignantly inform her that Luke had refused to let his mother be embalmed and asked her to get him to change his mind. Alma had then called Sara to ask why that decision had been made, and Sara had explained that it was Luke's doing, and it was perfectly legal because embalming was not required if the body wasn't to be transported across the state line.

"Well, people will talk when they hear she wasn't," Alma had argued, then tartly added, "And you ought to stay out of it, anyway."

Sara had responded in a patronizing tone that had made her all the madder. "I'm just doing what Luke asked me to do, Alma, and trying to make things as easy as possible for him. I'm worried about him. He's taking this real hard."

Furious, Alma had fired back, "Well, you'd best remember he's
my
husband, Sara, and let me do the worrying about him."

Sara had calmly retorted, "If you're upset about his asking me to help, perhaps you should talk to him about it."

Alma had slammed the phone down.
Talk to Luke?
That was a laugh. He'd been like a zombie since Orlena had died. Lynn Waller said that when she went into the room before the end of her shift Saturday morning, Orlena had been dead for some time and starting to get stiff, and Luke was just sitting there like he was in a trance.