Something Bad (13 page)

“Holy shit,” Mac said, this time loud enough to turn heads in the Edge. His excitement started a drum solo of muscle twitches.

John had the map between his legs again, and he squeezed his thighs as tightly as if he was about to pee his pants right up on the stage of the Grand Ole Opry.

The three froze.

“Why’s this so important?” Billy finally said. “Isn’t Thibideaux smart enough to know this is the best way to build the highway?”

“Jesus Christ, Billy,” John said. “Can’t you see the families that are in the highway path are getting killed off? That’s one way to get land cheap in these parts. Kill the whole family and the relatives will sell for a prayer.”

Billy frowned. “Who’d want to do that?”

“Think, Billy, think. Who’s here to arrange to buy the land? Who’s here to find the cheapest path through the Tri-counties?”

Billy’s voice climbed an octave. “Thibideaux?”

John’s voice went in the opposite direction. “Shut the fuck up, Billy. You trying to bring the whole party over here?”

“Sorry, John, I just—”

“Look,” John said. “We got a problem here. We need to go to the sheriff. But if we go with this stuff, he’ll throw us out of his office. We need more proof.”

Mac leaned forward and frowned. “I don’t know, John. Press was killed by lightning hitting a tree, and no one’s sure why the house collapsed. How does that go to Thibideaux?”

“I don’t know, Mac. But there’s just too much coincidence. That’s why we can’t go to the sheriff yet.”

Mac’s hands tapped the table in a steady rhythm. “So what do we do?”

John leaned back a little. “I don’t know. Maybe we should watch Thibideaux real close. What do the two accidents have in common?”

Billy smiled. “They were both in the line of the new highway.”

John rolled his eyes. “We already know that, Billy. Let me and Mac get some thinking done here, okay?”

Billy slumped on the bench.

Mac gazed at the ceiling. “Um … I don’t know. What do you think they have in common?”

John inched closer to the table so his belly was creased by its edge. “Come on, Mac. Think. What time of day did they occur?”

“At night.”

“Right. We’re going to have to watch Thibideaux at night.”

“All night?” Billy said.

John frowned. “I’m not sure when the house collapsed, but Press was killed just after dark. Mac, you want to see if the sheriff knows when the house went down? I’ll scout out the rectory to see where we can do the best watching.”

Billy’s forehead creased over a frown. “What if Thibideaux catches you? He might kill you, too.”

“Good point.” For the first time, John didn’t know what to say, so he continued with an ad-lib.

“I know,” he said. “Next time Thibideaux comes in here, I’ll sneak out and check things out. If he tries to leave, you and Mac will have to stall him.”

“How we going to do that?” Billy said.

John leaned back in his seat and brought his hands together behind his neck, interweaving his fingers. “You’ll have to figure that out on your own.”

Billy looked at Mac and smiled.

“Okay, let’s get back to the others before they get suspicious,” John said as he folded the map into a neat but edge-frayed rectangle and placed it in his back pocket.

As the three walked toward the others, the sky cleared to reveal a bright sun that glinted off the rain-spotted windshields of the parked cars, causing the patrons to shield their eyes or turn away.

D
EENA
L
EE LEANED
around the half-wall and nodded to Teddy. He returned her smile and walked out to the counter and tapped a spoon on the worn Formica. “Y’all let Deena Lee know if you need anything. She’s about to sit down for a spell.”

Deena Lee hurried to the far corner booth, slid all the way back on the bench, and stretched both legs flat on the seat. Now in her fifth month, she was feeling the aches and pains of being on her feet the whole day. She looked at Teddy, who worked the griddle like it was an old friend, and smiled. It was his idea to give her five minutes of peace and elevated legs every half hour, and she felt much more than appreciation. She felt lucky. Lucky because, given the choice, Teddy would choose her over the griddle any day.

Deena Lee slid off the bench. As her feet hit the floor, a strong gust of wind blew through the door of the Edge, heralding the appearance of Thibideaux, who headed for his now-customary seat at the bar.

“Afternoon, Mr. Thibideaux. Special again today?” Deena Lee said, cheerful from her recent rest.

“Good afternoon to you, Ms. Murtry. I believe I will try Teddy’s special. Do you recommend it?”

“No one’s been killed yet.” She giggled loud enough for everyone to hear and looked in Teddy’s direction. When she looked back at Thibideaux, she thought she saw the hint of a grin.

“The special it is, then. And, you’re looking radiant today. The pregnancy seems to be agreeing with you. All is going well with the baby and you?”

“I’m doing all right. Starting to get a bit of the heartburn, and the little tyke’s kicking a bit, and my ankles are still swelling. Otherwise, can’t complain.” Deena Lee smiled at the slight contradiction in her answer.

Thibideaux shook his head. “It must be a wonderful sensation, feeling the baby move. Something no man will ever experience. No wonder the maternal bond is so strong. Have you thought about what you’ll do with the child once it is born?”

Deena Lee froze. She only thought about it every spare minute she had, and she hadn’t struck on a solution. It created an undercurrent of stress in her happy condition, like a strong undertow that tempers enjoyment of the beautiful waves at the beach. It also put an edge in her voice.

“I’ll be able to take care of my child.”

Thibideaux straightened on the stool. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just curious about how you would manage to work and take care of the baby. I presume you’ll continue to work here.”

Deena Lee skulked behind the half-wall. Almost immediately, she returned to the counter and stopped in front of the little man. “What was it you said you’re doing in these parts?”

The Edge went quiet.

“I didn’t say, Ms. Murtry. In fact, I can’t give details of my job right now. But it is really important, and it will be revealed to some, including you, eventually.”

Deena Lee started to turn around, but stopped. “But you are from around New Orleans. Is that right?”

“I have a house just outside the Crescent City, but I don’t get to enjoy it as much as I’d like.”

Deena Lee put her palms flat on the counter directly in front of Thibideaux and leaned forward to take some of the weight off of her back. “How long do you stay in places like this? You’ve been here, what, about two months now?”

Thibideaux leaned back and folded his hands in his lap. “That’s about right. My jobs are variable. All I can say is that I have to stay on to the end, and I don’t know when that is until it’s right on top of me.”

Deena Lee tried to detect a change in Thibideaux’s expression, but it was the usual blank screen.

“So, you have any idea how close you are? How long can we expect you to come for the specials?” She forced a smile and straightened her back. Staying in one position too long only aggravated her aching knees and ankles. To her surprise, he continued the conversation.

“My guess is I’ll be enjoying Teddy’s specials for anywhere from six months to nearly a year. I like the country, and your part of it in particular, so I hope it’ll be closer to the longer estimate.”

“Special up,” Teddy said as he leaned over the half wall. “Mr. Thibideaux, I’ve put together a wailin’ dish today. If you like grilled chicken strips in a secret marinade, over wild rice, with a side of assorted greens, you’ll be asking for the recipe for the sauce, which you can’t have, but thank you.”

Thibideaux looked up at Teddy. “Sounds great. Any reason you’re in such a good mood today?”

Teddy rounded the kitchen wall and placed a straight arm on the counter. “I just made arrangements to have Teddy Jr. baptized this Sunday. He’s able to hold his head up a bit, so I figure Reverend Sather won’t give him whiplash when he dunks him.”

Deena Lee thought she saw a change in Thibideaux’s expression. He swiveled on his chair so he faced directly at Teddy, and his focus seemed to narrow — his eyes seemed more intense. And she thought she saw a slight glint of silver come from his mouth. Kind of like from the braces city kids put on their teeth, but she’d never seen them on a man of Thibideaux’s age.

“My sincere congratulations, Teddy,” Thibideaux said. “Baptisms are such wonderful events. They offer the hopes of the future and represent such opportunities I can’t help but be drawn to them.”

Deena Lee noticed that Teddy seemed as startled as she was. She didn’t peg Thibideaux as a religious man. He hadn’t made an appearance in church. She knew that for sure. Sunday worship was not only for receiving the Word of the Lord, it was also important to be seen receiving the Word. All participants seemed to make mental notes of who was and wasn’t in attendance each week because if a regular missed a week, it was likely someone would drop in to see if everything was okay. If two or more weeks were missed, groups of fellow citizens would self-organize to come by to offer assistance.

Teddy stood straight. “Thank you for the good thoughts. You’re welcome to drop in to watch the dunking. It’ll start around ten, right after the regular service.” Teddy’s smile nearly reached his ears.

Thibideaux dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Thank you, Teddy. I may take you up on the offer. I really like baptisms. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to be going. But before I go, I have to ask for the recipe to your marinade. I don’t expect a return—it’s just a formality attesting to its great flavor. I’d like to offer a suggestion for a variation that would give it a distinct Cajun twang, though. A healthy dose of cayenne pepper would bring back memories of my home. Good day.”

Thibideaux exited through the front door into a swirling gust of dust-laden wind. When the wind died down, he was nowhere to be seen.

Deena Lee turned to Teddy and shook her head. “Dang if I would’ve thought he’d ever set foot in a church.”

Teddy smiled. “I don’t know. That’s the first time I’ve jawed with him. Seems nice enough.” He walked toward the kitchen but stopped short of the doorway and turned around. “Y’all let Deena Lee know if you need anything. She’s about to sit down for a spell.

T
HE HOT, HUMID
day finally surrendered to the dark and Gabe let his head fall into the pillow to form a perfect-fit crater that would cradle him into sleep. He let out a silent chuckle. Hell of a day, he thought, placing a wager he’d wake up in the same exact position.

Before he drifted off, he nudged his mind toward a familiar go-to-sleep scenario. Good night for one of Misty’s dances. As soon as he conjured Misty from the narrow gap between wakefulness and sleep, his mind disengaged. There was no dance. Only sleep.

He didn’t know how long he’d been away, but it was still night. The room seemed darker than it should have been two nights short of a full moon. Gabe shifted in the bed and stopped. The warmth of another body was close beside him under the covers. This wasn’t Misty’s way. She would do her dance, engage him on top of the covers and leave. “Sorry to hump and run,” she would say with a loud laugh.

He moved again and the body pushed into his side. He felt the warmth from his shoulder to his foot and it triggered an involuntary shudder. Not a big one, and probably noticeable only to him. He struggled to put the sensations into meaningful order. This couldn’t be Misty. This was how he imagined it would be with Miz Murtry. No burlesque. Just warmth.

He turned, and through the darkness he thought he saw her smile with half-closed eyes. She exhaled through her nose and the smell of her air was sweet, inviting. He never had that smell with Misty. He’d never had any smell with her.