He rubbed a hand over his face. Shoot, he couldn’t tell the authorities where he’d been or why. That would mean explaining about his missing Mustang—which they were gonna find out anyway— and that would lead to questions about why he’d let Royce blackmail him in the first place. He sure as hell couldn’t reveal Faith’s secret. And where was his car, by the way? If it hadn’t been found with Royce, he must have hidden it somewhere. Or maybe he’d already sold it.
His head started pounding with the mother of all headaches. No matter what he said, he was gonna wind up looking bad. How had his life landed in this swamp full of alligators in such a short time? The luck of being Boyd’s boy, no doubt.
Elroy flipped through a stack of papers on his desk and pulled out one, picked up a ball-point pen and pointed it at Buddy Lee. “Now, let’s get down to facts, Walker.”
Faith jumped up before Buddy Lee could restrain her.
“You have the facts, Elroy.” Her outburst was accompanied by a frenzy of arm-waving and fist-shaking. “He told you he was working. What part of that don’t you understand?”
Buddy Lee grabbed her hand and pulled her back into the chair. “Hush, darlin’. Just hush.” He turned his face away from the sheriff and lowered his voice so only she could hear him. “Don’t say any more or you’ll just make it worse. Please?”
She scowled at him like he was the enemy here and slumped back in her seat. He took that as a "Yes." At least, she wasn’t yammering anymore. Sheese!
“Let’s start with where you were at ten-thirty last night, and you tell me what you were doing right on up to about one o’clock this morning.” Elroy got up and walked around to the front of the desk, hitched his hip on the edge and folded his arms across his chest. “Do you usually work that late? Was anyone there with you?”
Buddy Lee shook his head. “Nope.” If Elroy wanted information, by damn, he was gonna have to figure it out himself. No way would he admit he was at Lionel’s groveling for a favor. Putting Faith’s secret on the line was not gonna happen, even if they held a gun to his head.
Elroy’s smirk was enough to make him bite his tongue and clench his fists. Hellfire, he didn’t want to start a brawl right here in the station house, but if Mr. Better-than-you-and-maybe-God Lawman didn’t back off, that’s exactly what would happen. And Pike could just quit ogling Faith, too. Damn lecher. He was married to her cousin, for cryin’ out loud.
“That’s interesting,” Elroy said, stroking his chin and watching Faith scoot around in her chair while he kept on talking to Buddy Lee. “What exactly were you working on? That prized Mustang of yours?”
Oh, great, here it comes. Now Faith will find out I’ve lost the car. He kicked his brain into fast-forward, searched for a believable answer and wished for a more creative imagination.
“Well,” he drawled, stalling for time while his thought process fired up its pistons, “matter of fact, I was just doin’ some paper work. Not as interesting as working on the Mustang, but necessary.”
Faith shot him a funny look. What the hell was that for?
“And just what time did you leave the garage? What did you do after you left? Go straight home?” Elroy raised an eyebrow in his direction, then pulled his mouth into a smarmy grin. “Of course, your wife would probably know when you came to bed, now wouldn’t she?”
Buddy Lee wanted to pop him one right in his nasty mouth. He wanted Faith left out of this mess, but he could see Elroy was determined to drag them both through a whole pile before he was through. Was old man Morgan behind this, after all? Had someone really killed Royce? And where the hell was his Mustang?
Faith jumped up from her seat right then and jammed her fists on her hips. “I can tell you Buddy Lee was home in bed where he belonged, Elroy Pike. And what time he got there is no concern of yours, because I’m telling you he was with me all night. I’m his wife, and that’s what I say.” She shook a fist at him. “Now, go do your job and figure out what happened to Royce. Honestly, you watch too many crime shows on TV, Elroy. This is Buddy Lee. He’s not a criminal and you know it.”
Elroy slid off the edge of the desk to stand in front of them. “Yeah, I know who he is, Faith.” He paused just long enough to let his implication sink in. “And we all know the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“Oh, stuff it, Elroy,” Faith snapped. “You are so full of yourself.”
“I can charge you with interfering with this investigation, Cousin, and that wouldn’t help your husband here, at all. Better keep a lid on that sassy mouth of yours.” The deputy cocked his head and stared right at her, his gaze homing in on her full lips. “It’s gotten you in trouble more than once, if I remember.”
“He’s right, Faith,” Buddy Lee interjected. “Just let him ask his questions, so we can go home.”
He was secretly proud of the way she’d stood up for him, but that only made him feel like a first-class jackass for deceiving her. He didn’t want her defending him like he was helpless or something, but he didn’t want her to find out where he’d really been, either.
“Why don’t you let Faith go on home, Elroy? I’ll stay and answer your questions, just keep her out of this.”
“I’m not going anywhere without you,” Faith said stubbornly.
Good old Elroy hadn’t bothered to close the door to his office and several curious officers on night duty strolled by, gawking as they passed. When one of them stopped and stuck his head in the door, Buddy Lee’s heart landed in his sneakers.
Norm Atkins, Newcomb County’s sheriff, favored everyone in the room with a raised eyebrow. “Trouble in here, Pike?”
Elroy pulled himself to attention. “No, sir, just routine questioning on the Webb homicide. Walker here was accounting for his whereabouts last night.”
“And you’ve got good reason for this questioning?” Atkins’ remarks were quiet and dead serious.
“Yessir,” Elroy replied. “Everybody knows how Walker stole Webb’s fiancée right from under his nose. Married her and ran off with her. Figured that was reason enough to make him a suspect. They could’ve argued, fought over Faith. Then Webb turns up murdered. Suspicious, sir.”
“Far as I know, Pike, marriage isn’t a crime. And cause of death in the Webb case hasn’t been determined yet, so don’t label it a homicide ‘til you have all the facts. Stick to protocol, or you’ll be in trouble, too.” Atkins nodded to Faith, shot Buddy Lee a curious look, then left the room.
“See, Elroy, even your boss thinks you’re jumping to conclusions.” Faith edged closer to Buddy Lee and tucked her hand in his. “I hope you find the person responsible for Royce’s death, if that’s what really happened. But Buddy Lee and I don’t know anything about it. So let us go home.”
“She’s right, Elroy. We’ve answered all your questions. You don’t have any reason to keep us here.” Jeez, he sure hoped that was true. If Elroy ever got ahold of the fact he’d been over at Lionel’s last night—and why—no telling what would hit the fan then. He needed to get Faith home before that happened.
With his hand on the small of her back, he guided her toward the door. If Elroy wanted to, he could detain him, but Faith was goin’ home, no matter what.
The deputy nodded, but the dour expression on his face told Buddy Lee the lawman was clearly p.o.’d at the way things were turning out. Well, hoo-ha. He wasn’t exactly shoutin’ hallelujah, either.
It was just after five in the morning when the two finally followed a very angry Elroy outside to the patrol car. Newcomb County’s finest returned the couple home in complete silence.
Faith didn’t wait long before she dropped her bombshell. One hand on her hip, a wooden spoon in the other, she stopped in the middle of what she was doing at the kitchen stove and turned around, sparks of disapproval flickering in her eyes.
“What will you do without the car, Buddy Lee?”
He lowered his gaze, suddenly absorbed in a hangnail on his clenched hand. If she’d planned on landing a sucker-punc
h, she sure hit her mark. An automatic reflex tightened his gut, and he glanced up from where he sat at the kitchen table just in time to see the mulishly stubborn set to her mouth.
Buddy Lee braced himself. Oh, man, here it comes. The one question he’d hoped to avoid as long as possible. He didn’t know exactly how he was going to explain it to her, but he figured he’d better put some serious thought to the matter real quick. Or maybe he should try distracting her. Yeah, he could do that. Much easier than answering her question.
“Well?” She waggled the wooden spoon she’d been using on the egg mixture at him. Her eyebrows shot up in little peaks and her mouth pulled into a thin line. “You might as well come clean because I am so mad at you right now, I can’t think straight. How could you give away something as valuable as that Mustang? To Royce, for heaven’s sake! What were you thinking?”
She tossed the spoon on the countertop and waved her hands in agitation. “And furthermore, I know you intended to sell it, so don’t tell me you didn’t need it. Good grief, Buddy Lee, do you know you just gave away a fortune? That was your only chance to pay off the bank and keep from losing the business you’ve worked so hard to build. Do you know what that...?”
Slapping his hand on the tabletop, he knocked over his chair in the process of jumping to his feet. “I know what the hell I did, Faith. And why. So, just let me worry about it.” He wasn’t gonna have her fretting over his damn financial screw-up. “I took care of a problem, that’s all.”
“And Royce was the problem, wasn’t he?” Her voice wavered, but her rigid stance told him she wasn’t giving an inch. Her mama should’ve named her Stubborn.
Shoot, she hadn’t said two words all the way home from the police station, and that in itself was enough to make him nervous as all get out. ‘Cause Faith not talking was downright scary. Especially when she was mad. Now she couldn’t hush up.
When he’d asked if she felt okay, she’d just nodded and said she was planning. Boy, did that ever set his nerves to jangling. Faith and planning was a combination that had gotten him bogged down in the alligator swamp more than once.
Then she’d started scrambling eggs and making toast as soon as they got home, saying she was hungry and too upset to go back to bed. Hell, he’d figured climbing back in bed would be a real fine solution for solving their mutual frustration. He sure wasn’t hungry for eggs. But her question about his missing Mustang came right out of the blue. Blind-sided him. How had she found out the car was gone? She couldn’t have gone to the shop.
He heaved a sigh deep enough to make him shudder. Right now, his life was about as stable as a runaway roller-coaster.
“I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re asking.” He took a step toward her. “Look at me, Faith. Do you honestly believe I could do that?”
She shook her head and sighed. “I don’t know what to think, anymore. I never dreamed any of this craziness would happen. Never believed I’d be pregnant with Royce’s child.”
Her eyes grew bright with tears and her anger softened to bewilderment. “I never thought I’d be married to you, either, Buddy Lee.”
“Life kinda surprised both of us, darlin’.” His heart was crowding his throat, making his voice crack in mid-sentence. “You knew I didn’t have much when you asked me to marry you, but I promised to take care of you the best way I could. Did you believe me? ‘Cause if you didn’t, then why in hell did you let me love you?” Well, damn, he hadn’t meant to say that.
When she gasped out a shocked sob, he reckoned if dumb was dirt, he’d cover about an acre.
Ever since that very first time when they’d made love, he couldn’t seem to get enough of her, but for him, there was more to it than the physical part. He needed her to believe in him, to trust him again. He wanted her to need him for more than just a way out of her problem.
He sauntered over to his flea-market special boom-box on the counter, latched on to the first tape in a nearby stack, and shoved it into the slot. Music was a good way to start his ‘distracting’ strategy.
Whoa! The volume must’ve been cranked up to bust-an-eardrum level, ‘cause Willie and Julio started belting out something about all the girls they’d loved before, and Faith’s eyes widened in astonishment.
He hit the Eject button so fast the tape jetted across the room like a missile. He didn’t bother to retrieve it, just left it on the floor where it landed and hurried to pick out a more appropriate, mood-setting one. He hoped.
Sure enough, as the soft, mellow strain of a Mickey Gilley ballad filled the tiny room with a pure Country love song, he saw Faith’s body slowly sway back and forth with the bluesy rhythm, and he grinned all the way to his toes. Bingo!
His hands found her waist, pulled her close. He drew a deep breath and let her very essence seep into his soul. God, she smelled so good, fit so perfectly nestled up against him. His body responded instantly to her nearness. He was in Heaven, if only for a little while.
“Dance with me,” he murmured against her cheek, and looped her arms around his neck.
At first, she stiffened in his embrace, but he kept right on moving with the only dance he knew how to do, until he felt her melt against him. Ahhh! If there was one thing he knew he did well, it was this. Give me a smooth, slow dance any day. He didn’t know any of those fancy, city-slicker steps, but he was pretty sure swaying together like this had formal, ballroom footwork beat all to heck and back.
Now, with Faith pressed tight against him, their bodies moving as one while Mickey G. crooned about lonely nights and forgettin’ about tomorrow, Buddy Lee figured this distracting thing was working out pretty good. It sure had his thoughts moving right along to other things besides cops and cars and bein’ flat broke. And he had a sneakin’ suspicion Faith was a little distracted, too.
“Mmmmm, uh, Faith...?” he said, real cautious like, thinking maybe he was on the right track here, but not wanting to give the impression sex was the only thing he ever thought about.
She didn’t say anything and that worried him some, because she hadn’t spoken since he’d begun to dance with her—just kept following his lead, doing that swayin’ thing with her hips that was slowly driving him crazy. Jeez! She had to be feeling the same way he was. Why else would she be giving him this come-on with her body, as well as her eyes?
He hoped she’d forgotten her question about the car by now. He was doin’ his best to make sure she did. He’d pretty much forgotten it himself, as other, more pressing things, occupied his mind. Time enough later for that particular show and tell. Especially with the possibility of a homicide still hanging over them like a black cloud of doom.
Her response was to nuzzle her head into the hollow of his shoulder while her fingers wandered up and down the back of his neck. Her summer-sweet fragrance shot straight to his brain. He stumbled, missed a step, and fought back the dangerous combination of light-headedness and tight jeans that was ganging up on him.
“Sweet mercy,” he breathed and danced her down the hallway toward the bedroom. He prayed the music never stopped.
Darn him, Faith fumed silently, as she followed the suggestive rhythm of Buddy Lee’s low-down-and-dirty glide and slide. She’d always been a pushover for emotional Country love songs. One more mark in his favor.
When he had folded her in his arms and two-stepped her around the kitchen floor, her first reaction had been to stomp on his toes, but her body took on a mind of its own, moving instinctively to the sensuous beat of Mickey Gilley’s torchy ballad and the invitation of Buddy Lee’s hard body. She didn’t stand a chance against that kind of seduction, thank you very much, Mr. G. and Mr. W.
Not that she really objected. If she were honest—and she was trying to improve on that—she truly enjoyed it. There was something about the universal, unspoken language of slow-dancing that left no doubt as to what was being said. The silent conversing of bodies, the secret words expressed with a touch, a caress, or just a long, slow look—all these spoke loud and clear of hea
ted desires and urgent needs. No Webster’s Tenth needed here. Faith’s own needs were clearly defined by now, and Buddy Lee’s were more than obvious.
Her mind still hung on to a few sensible thoughts, though. One being that this seductive dancing was absurd when she was supposed to be finding out why he gave the car to Royce in the first place, and why Royce was dead. That was the important issue. Had Royce actually been murdered? Her blood chilled at that possibility. Buddy Lee was the most likely suspect in the crime, thanks to Elroy’s suspicious mind.
He did have a motive, she supposed. Without his valuable Mustang, there’d be no money to pay off his loan. And even if he proved his innocence in Royce’s death, he was bound to lose his shop and his livelihood. Wouldn’t that make Daddy overjoyed? A chance to point out another of his daughter’s endless mistakes. She wondered if he kept a list of the ones she’d made through the years.
That possibility should have worried her, but right now, her husband was seducing her with a two-step. How absurd was that? Was it just the hormonal change taking place in her body? Her pregnancy? Or was it the feel of his body language rubbing against her as they danced toward the bedroom?
She floated with him as they tumbled onto the bed, the serious stuff just getting started.
In about an hour or so, I’ll ask him about the car again, Faith promised herself. Honest. Right after we have this intimate body-language conversation.
Afterwards, Faith lay quietly next to him, listening to his steady breathing. There was something beautiful about the afterglow of Buddy Lee’s lovemaking. Something special she’d never felt before. Did he feel as lucky as she did? They’d married because of her monumental mistake, but they’d found something she hadn’t expected. Could it be love? Once the baby arrived, would Buddy Lee be able to see beyond the child’s paternity? Was it fair to even ask that of him? Could they be a real family, or would he want to leave then? So many questions, so many doubts and fears for the future.