Enough to get me started with a new life.
My relationship with Dr. Box seemed to end before it got started. I was hopin’ for more, but I think my family history scared him off.
As it should have.
I’d been prepared to step aside and let him go on with his life, but that was before I realized how much he needs me. And he does, at least for the near future.
Dr. Box is in serious danger, and I need to warn him.
What concerns me most?
Renee texted me from his cell phone.
I can’t think of any scenario in which Dr. Box would willingly allow my crazy sister to screen his messages or text people from his phone.
Especially me.
I know he wants to talk to me, or he wouldn’t have called me twice this afternoon.
I shake my head, thinkin’ about the rough twenty-four hours my family’s put Dr. Box through. First, Daddy knocked him unconscious. Then he robbed him, kicked his nuts, and hung him. Then the barn roof collapsed on him. Then he lost a possible love connection with Faith, when the people my brother and husband Darrell sent to kill him shot each other instead. And now my sister Renee is likely holdin’ him against his will, and makin’ threats against me that’ll eventually drive her to punish him.
If I can somehow manage to protect Dr. Box from Renee, Daddy, Darrell, and the local police, and if he and I wind up gettin’ engaged someday, can you just imagine the scene my kinfolk will make at our weddin’?
45.
“CLEM, COULD YOU give me a few minutes of privacy?” I say.
“You’re not gonna call him, are you?”
“That’s none of your business.”
He frowns. “I don’t like it. And I sure as hell don’t like him.”
Great.
Dr. Box has managed to make yet another enemy in law enforcement.
When Clem leaves the room I call Dr. Box, but get no answer.
“Clem!” I shout.
He comes flyin’ through the door.
“What’s wrong?”
“Call Sheriff Boyd.”
“Why?”
“I need to talk to him.”
“What about?”
“Just call him.”
“He’s gonna ask why.”
“Maybe so, but he’ll come.”
He glares at me a minute, and I glare back.
“I don’t like it,” he says.
“Why am I not surprised?”
46.
Dr. Gideon Box.
I’VE GONE THROUGH a lot of emotions over the past twenty-four hours. Heard good things, weird things, bad things. Learning I was about to be hung was the worst, hands down. I mean, literally, my hands were down, cuffed behind my back. So that was the worst.
A close second was learning I’m not the first guy Trudy’s fence-kissed.
Worse, according to her own sister, Trudy’s blown other guys at the very same fence.
And here I thought I was special.
I come out of the shower, dejected.
Renee sees it. She can tell my mood has shifted.
“I’m here for you, Gideon,” she says.
I grab my clothes from the sink as I pass her, heading to the bed. I sit, put my socks on, then stand and finish dressing.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asks.
I raise a palm. “Why not?”
“What happened to your neck?”
Something in the way she asked the question makes me do a double-take.
I can’t explain how, but I do believe Renee knows her Daddy had something to do with the rope burn around my neck.
“You just noticed that?” I say.
“Of course not! I noticed it right off. I think you might have a permanent mark there.”
Now I have two lovely thoughts. The woman I love gives blowjobs at the dumpster, and her father gives permanent rope-burn tattoos.
There’s a knock at the door.
“Room service!” a voice calls out from the hall.
I notice Renee’s still naked from the waist down.
She backs into the bathroom and closes the door. I let him in, he sets up the food, and leaves. When Renee comes out I can tell she’s been crying.
“What’s wrong?”
“This is all going badly,” she says.
“What is?”
“Our date.”
I nod.
“It’s all because of her!” she says.
“Who?”
“Trudy.”
She’s right. But I say, “That’s not true. It’s just that I had a horrible time at the police station earlier.”
“Oh my God!” she says. “You’re right! I was so excited to see you, I never asked what happened!”
I wave her off.
“It’s not that big a deal.”
“Of course it is! You were a suspect in an armed robbery! I can’t believe I never asked about your experience. I’m a horrible girlfriend. Truly horrible!”
“Don’t be silly.”
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” she says, walking around the bed. “You’ve got a fine dinner here. We’ll sit together, have some wine. You’ll tell me all about your afternoon at the police station, while enjoying your meal.”
She leans down, lifts her purse from the floor, places it on the bed in front of her.
I say, “Can I be honest, Renee?”
“Of course, darling.”
“You’re a sweet girl, and the last thing I want to do is offend you.”
“But?”
“I’m afraid I’ve lost my appetite.”
She smiles. “Nonsense! You haven’t eaten all afternoon, you said so yourself. We’re going to have a nice quiet evening and you’re going to relax and enjoy your dinner.”
“No, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood.”
She pulls a gun from her purse, points it at me, then cocks it.
“I insist,” she says.
47.
HAVE YOU EVER tried to eat dinner with a loaded gun pointed at your face? If so, was the person holding the gun chugging a bottle of wine? And if so, did you enjoy your meal? Reason I ask, I’m having trouble concentrating on the food.
“My Daddy gave you that rope burn, didn’t he?” she says.
I nod.
“How’d you escape?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’d love to hear it.”
“Can I tell you later?”
“Sure. Want to tell me about the police station first?”
“Maybe after dinner.”
“Okay,” she says, cheerfully.
“Would you consider putting the gun down?”
“Not really. Not yet.”
“When?”
“Well,” she says, “you were quite the eager beaver till the cops barged in. I thought we really had it going, sex-wise. I mean, you yelled a lot, and carried on like it meant something. But now you seem to have lost interest. I’m trying not to take it personally, but I don’t deal well with rejection.”
“If you’re not planning to get to the point, can you just go ahead and shoot me?”
She smiles. “I like you.”
“Don’t base too much on a first impression,” I say.
“You’re a saucy one, Dr. Box!”
I shrug.
The room phone rings.
“I should get that,” I say.
“I don’t think so.”
She lets it ring. Then picks up the phone, calls the front desk, tells them not to put any calls through. She hangs up the phone and says, “You know what I think?”
“I have no idea.”
She says, “I think I may have given it up too quickly. The sex, I mean.”
“Really?” I say. “Because it seems to me you held out nearly two minutes before taking your clothes off.”
“I don’t remember you complaining about that. And anyway, we had a history on the internet that gave me reason to believe you might be special. I h
aven’t given up that thought, by the way. But I’m afraid you don’t respect me like you should.”
“Why’s that?”
“You think I’m easy. A tramp…A slut…A whore…Feel free to interrupt me at any time.”
“You’re doing fine.”
She shakes her head and curls her lips into a strange smile and looks at me the way a giant snake might look at a wounded mouse. “I like saucy men,” she says. “But you know what?”
“What?”
“I can be saucy, too.”
“Oh, joy.”
“You know what your problem is?” she says.
“You?”
“No. Your problem is we haven’t spent any quality time together. As friends.”
“Is this how you treat your friends? By holding a gun on them?”
“Sometimes.”
“Do you reciprocate?”
“What do you mean?”
“Ever let your friends hold the gun on you?”
She smiles. “I like the way you word things. You’ve got a fine mind, Gideon. Ever thought about being a kindergarten teacher?”
“Every hour of every day.”
She laughs heartily. When it dies down she says, “Here’s what we’re going to do.”
“Tell me.”
“When you finish eating, we’re going to do what normal couples do.”
“What’s that?”
She fumbles around in her purse with one hand while holding the gun on me with the other. Eventually, she finds what she’s looking for, and places it on the table between us.
A bottle of nail polish.
“I don’t understand,” I say.
“You’re going to paint my toenails,” she says.
“You’re joking.”
“When we do good deeds for others, we feel good about ourselves.”
“We do?”
“It builds our self-esteem. And helps us flex our empathy muscles. It’s the first step toward being good neighbors. And you know what that helps you become?”
“Crazy?”
“A citizen of the world.”
“All this from painting your toenails? Who knew? We should call the United Nations immediately. Can peace be far behind?”
“Go ahead,” she says. “Make jokes.”
“What’s the point? You’ll only laugh.”
She laughs.
“See?”
She says. “I really do like you, Gideon. I can see why Trudy wants you. But that will never happen.”
“Why not?”
“She’s too young and pretty for you. And doesn’t know how to please a man.”
Renee’s way off base about Trudy’s ability to please a man. I think about the hand job in the car until I see Renee staring at my face.
“Something wrong?” I say.
“Looks like you were daydreaming about something pleasant. I mention Trudy, you get a goofy smile on your face. We’re going to have to work on that.”
“How?”
“By adjusting your focus. From her to me.”
“And you think painting your nails will accomplish that?”
“Yes. Because painting my nails is something you can do for me, to show you value me as a person. And when we show others we value them, we open ourselves up to wonderful possibilities. Like friendship. Is that something you’d be willing to do?”
“I’d be willing to cut off my ears if it would make you stop using that stupid kindergarten voice.”
She frowns.
I say, “You seriously believe by forcing me to paint your nails I’ll become a better person?”
“Yes. And you’ll do other things to show you value me not only as a person, but as a life partner.”
My turn to frown. “Life partner?”
“Of course ‘life’ is a relative term. While I can guarantee we’ll be partners for life, it’s up to you how long our partnership will last.”
“Because it ends with my death?”
“Yes, of course.”
“What else will you force me to do?”
“To help you value me as a person?”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
“After the nail ceremony, I’ll allow you to please me orally, like we discussed earlier. I’ll give you detailed instructions until you master the perfect combination that causes my bud to bloom. After you satisfy my needs, we’ll go in the bathroom, and I’ll make a nice doo doo in the potty. Then I’ll let you wipe my behind. You’re making a strange face. What’s on your mind, darling?”
“The many ways I’m going to torture my therapist before killing her.”
“You’re making a joke.”
“You are, if you think I’m going to wipe your ass.”
“Wiping my behind seems gross to you?”
“Shockingly, yes.”
She smiles. “That’s because you don’t see it for what it is.”
“Please enlighten me. What is it?”
“A display of nurturing love. Which as we all know, is the precursor to true, eternal love.”
“Maybe that explains why I’ve never been in love.”
“Gideon?”
“What?”
“If something happened to you tomorrow, I’d nurture and care for you the rest of your life. I know it sounds unpleasant, cleaning a grownup’s potty pants, but it’s not gross when you’re taking care of the person you love.”
“Please tell me you’re aware we never laid eyes on each other before this afternoon.”
“We’re soul mates, Gideon. We’ve traveled this road many times, through many lives.”
“I don’t think so.”
“No?”
“I’m pretty sure I’d remember wiping your ass from one life to the next.”
“Don’t be impudent, Gideon. Finish your dinner. You’ll need your strength for later.”
48.
Trudy Lake.
“YOUR BOYFRIEND CERTAINLY gets around,” Sheriff Boyd says. “I’ll give him that much. So how do you know he’s in Paducah?”
“While waiting for you to show up this past hour,” I say with no small amount of anger, “I called half the motels within a fifty mile radius of Logan, where Renee lives.”
“And you finally found him checked into the Royal Landmark Inn?”
“Yes. Can you call the Paducah police department and have them check on him?”
“Why don’t you just call Dr. Box at the Inn and ask if he’s okay?”
“You think I haven’t tried?”
“No answer?”
“No. But the last five times I’ve called, they said Dr. Box has asked not to be disturbed.”
“Maybe they’re having sex. Maybe you’re jealous to learn your sister’s fucking your boyfriend.”
From behind us, Clem laughs.
“Shut up, Clem!” I holler. “Sheriff, this is Renee Williams we’re talking about. She kills people.”
“Not according to the laws of the state of Tennessee, she doesn’t.”
“She’s taken over his phone. She threatened me.”
“Is that the only message she sent? To keep your ass away from Doctor Box? And she won’t tell you again? Because that’s not much of a threat, Trudy. If it was, I’d be arresting every pre-pubescent girl in junior high. And I hope you know I can’t go around banging on hotel doors demanding grown men and women tell me what they’re up to.”
“You’re refusing to help me?”
“If by ‘help’ you mean will I chase down your boyfriend and make him stop dating your sister, the answer is no.”
“How will you feel if Dr. Box turns up dead?”
“Honestly? I’ll feel relieved.”
“Then go fuck yourself.”
“That’s an awfully ugly sentence to come from such a pretty face. I expect your mom would be ashamed of what’s become of her sweet daughter.”
“My mom would be proud of me for tryin’ to save a man’s life.”
“I guess we alre
ady found out how proud of you she was.”
I try to slap him, but he backs out of the way and says, “You have a nice day now, Mrs. Lake, you hear?”
49.
I’M DOUBLY SHOCKED when Detective Tan from the Paducah police department takes my call. Shocked he took my call, even more shocked when he said, “We arrested Dr. Box earlier today for armed robbery.”
“That’s insane!” I say.
“Yes, ma’am, we agree. Turns out he was set up by a woman.”
“Renee Williams.”
“Uh…no ma’am.”
“Excuse me?”
“Zander Evans, of Paducah, aged twenty-two, last seen at Mason’s Truck Stop, Eddyville, Kentucky. That was four hours ago, give or take. You don’t happen to know Miss Evans, do you?”
“No. But I happen to know Dr. Box was in the company of my sister, quite recently.”
“And her name?”
“Like I said, Renee Williams.”
“Name sounds familiar. Hang on a minute.”
When he comes back on he says, “You say Renee Williams is your sister?”
“Yes sir. And she sent me a threatening text from Dr. Box’s cell phone. You should know that Renee has been tried two times for a double homicide that occurred in the state of Tennessee a couple years ago, and I have every reason to believe she has ill intentions toward Dr. Box.”
“Well, ma’am, I don’t normally give out personal information, but I can assure you Dr. Box is not in any danger from Renee Williams.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because they’re clearly a couple.”
“I know it might appear that way, but—”
“Trust me, Mrs. Lake. They’re a couple. In every sense of the word.”
“Please, Detective, just hear me out. You mentioned another woman.”
“Yes ma’am. Zander Evans.”
“I happen to know Dr. Box met a woman named Faith Hemphill this morning, in Ralston. How could he possibly have time to see Faith, drive to Paducah, get framed by Zander Evans for a robbery, taken to the station and booked, and set free, and also be involved with Renee Williams?”
“Ma’am, all I’m willing to say is your Dr. Box was having explicit carnal knowledge of your sister at the time of his arrest. And he admitted attempting to engage in carnal relations with Zander Evans less than two hours earlier. I don’t know what kind of feed he’s on, but this Dr. Box gets more action than a two-peckered rabbit.”