was left of the cigarette, picked it up and thumbed it in a trash can and headed to my car. Lorna had a lot of questions to answer. I tore off down the street, ready to go confront her. But as I drove off I caught sight of Tiny Parmalee’s battered red pickup truck coming up quick behind me.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tiny’s pickup, resplendent with its battery of dents, smoke-spewing pipes, and oversized Confederate-flag decal in the back window (along with what looked like a deer rifle) stayed close behind me all the way home. I felt a childish fear. I’d never forgotten how Tiny had nearly crushed the life out of me at little provocation. My fear, though, quickly changed to anger as his truck followed barely two feet behind my own back fender. I took a deep breath. I wasn’t a little kid who could be pushed, around again. And I wasn’t about to let a blunt-headed bastard like Tiny Parmalee intimidate me. I’d seen too much pain in life, and backing away never got a soul anywhere. His grimy truck finally backed off as I pulled into my carport and he stopped in front of my house. I wondered for one moment if he’d come out swinging and how I was going to handle that with only one good arm. If he did attack me, I’d be at a serious disadvantage. I decided then and there that the best defense would be a solid kick to his beer gut, followed by another boot to the groin and a judicious retreat into my house. Not a polite way to fight, but mannered combat takes two gentlemen. I’d just emerged from the car when Tiny slammed his door shut and came lumbering across the lawn at me. His whitish hair gleamed like a bald dome in the summer sun. His eyes were a thin, watery blue, but they were narrowed in anger. One hand was already in a fist. “Hey!” he yelled, stopping a few feet ahead of me. “Get something straight, you shithead. You leave Nina alone!” “Excuse me?” I answered, pulling my arm close against my body and tensing my legs. “I haven’t even talked to Nina today. What’s your problem?” “My problem, Poteet, is you. You think Nina killed that Yankee son of a bitch. You told Miss Twyla that.” Obviously one had to be careful what one suggested to Miss Twyla. “I never said that she did.” Well, not exactly. “I just asked Miss Twyla where Nina was last night, and she told me. If you think someone’s bugging Nina, you need to go see Billy Ray Bummel and Junebug.” I wanted to take a step back, but I didn’t. You don’t do that to a bully, and Tiny Parmalee had changed very little since those schoolyard tussles. He had been angry then, with no outlet for releasing it other than torturing other kids; he was angry now, and still hadn’t learned how to deal with wrath.
“Look, Tiny. It’s obvious that you care about Nina. I understand that.” “What the hell do you know about me?” he asked, drawing a heavy hand across his lip. “You don’t know shit about me, mister. Or about what I think about Nina.” He shook his head. “You think you’re so smart, Poteet, you always have. Always looking down on me, always thinking I’m just nothing but a big stupid shit. I’m not. I’m a hell of a lot smarter than you’ll ever give me credit for.” “Okay, you’re smart. Who killed Greg?” He took one step forward and pushed a finger toward my face. I smelled the nauseatingly sweet odor of a thick wad of chewing gum he had in his mouth and I saw the bulge it made in his unshaven cheek. “Just stay away from Nina. Stay out of this whole mess. Just ship that Yankee bitch of yours back where she belongs and keep out of mine and Nina’s business.” Since I didn’t know what constituted his and Nina’s business and I hadn’t interfered in any way that I knew of, I very much disliked his jabbing his finger at my nose. Not to mention him calling Lorna names. “This is not a joke, Tiny. This is a murder. Someone killed Greg and whoever did that is going to pay for it. Nina and Greg didn’t get along at all, so she’s going to be investigated by the cops. Don’t take it so personally. I mean, you’re sure she’s innocent, aren’t you?” He wasn’t expecting that. The finger receded from my personal space. “Yeah, I am,” he said slowly, as though I’d asked a trick question. “So then you and Nina have nothing to worry about.” I didn’t add my thought: Unless you strangled him, you animal. Tiny blinked repeatedly. “She didn’t do it. Maybe I’ll find out who did, if the cops keep suspecting her.” I didn’t think Tiny would make much headway as a detective, but I kept my mouth shut. “Is that all?” “Yeah. Just stay away from Nina and quit fillin’ folks’ heads full of foolishness about her.” Back on the familiar territory of threat making, he regained his confidence. He turned his back on me and headed back for his truck. “Tiny?” He paused while climbing into the truck. “Yeah?” “Don’t ever follow me that close again, or I’ll shoot out your tires. Understand me?” He wasn’t expecting that I’d threaten back in any way and to my surprise he smiled. Coldly. ‘I’ll remember that.” Slamming his door hard enough to shake the truck, he started the engine and roared off, leaving a bloated cloud of exhaust in his wake. I exhaled a long breath. He’d been pissed, but he hadn’t beaten me up. Unless, of course, he was out to seek vengeance against Junebug and Billy Ray for suspecting his inamorata of being a bloodthirsty garroter. I went into the house, quietly. It was nearly three in the afternoon and I felt exhausted. I needed a nap. I wasn’t going to get one. Eula Mae and Lorna sat on the couch, smiling tightly at each other. I felt I’d walked onstage halfway through a death scene. “Hey, y’all, what’s going on?” I said.
Those tight smiles of theirs didn’t budge an inch. “Hey, sugar pie. I just thought I’d stop by and see how Miss Lorna here was doing.” Eula Mae got up, her layers of necklaces tinkling as she moved, and gave me a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. I was not swayed. “You sure y’all aren’t squabbling over that land deal?” I asked. Eula Mae pressed a well-manicured hand to her violet peasant blouse (showing her freckled cleavage to best display). “Honey, we haven’t even talked about that stuff. It’s so trivial in the light of poor Mr. Callahan’s murder.”
Lorna’s smile faded as soon as Eula Mae wasn’t looking at her. “Ms.
Quiff was kind enough to invite me to come stay with her. She thought I might be underfoot here.” Eula Mae rolled her eyes at me before turning them, glistening with kindness and sympathy, toward Lorna.
“Sweetie, the way you phrase things! I simply thought that it might be nicer for you to have a little more room, what with this house being so full of Jordy, and Arlene, and Mark, and Anne, and Clo being over so much.” I frowned slightly at Eula Mae, who did not appear to notice, being busy closely examining the setting of one of her many rings. I decided on the gentlemanly approach. “How kind of you, Eula Mae. And how unusually generous of you.” She bristled a tad at that and I grinned. “But I think Lorna’s just fine right here.” Eula Mae shrugged, the field of battle abandoned. “You’re right, Jordy. I mean, you are spending most of your time at Candace’s, so there is plenty of room here for dear Lorna.” Well, nearly abandoned. She leaned down and patted-or lightly slapped, depending on your point of view-Lorna’s leg. “If you change your mind, sweetness, you just call Eula Mae.
You’ll always be welcome at Chez Quiff.” I steered the Unwelcome Wagon firmly to and out the door. The full blast of the afternoon humidity and sunlight hit us and we both blinked against the glare. She shrugged off my light touch and frowned at me when I’d shut the front door. “Jordan Poteet. Are you thinking with your loins these days?”
“What’s wrong with you? Have you totally forgotten your manners?” “You could strip the flesh from my bones,” Eula Mae hissed, “and I’d still have more class than that nasal-voiced little minx in there.” “Good Lord!” “Turning down my heartfelt invitation in her hour of need. And not even nicely, telling me she was sure Candace had sent me over here.” She was near fake tears. “Did Candace send you over here?” “Of course not!” Eula Mae stomped her foot. “I am capable of independent thought, mister. You forget I’ve made my money from knowing all about love.” That was a tempting statement to twist around on her, but I kept my mouth shut. I wouldn’t have gotten a line in anyway. “I know exactly what that woman’s up to. You don’t give a man the Kama Sutra if you just want to be pen pals. Especially the new edition,” Eula Mae continued. “And it’s the way she looks at you. I saw it last night at the library when she came in. She only saw you, Jordy. The way her eyes narrowed, I figured the poor child was astigmatic or in heat. And she don’t wear glasses.” “Eula Mae. I appreciate your concern, honestly, but you’re getting carried away.” “Jordy, darlin’.” She took my arm. “Listen to me. That girl’s still in love with you. It’s as plain to me as it is hidden to you. You’re sweet as pie, but dense as fudge when it comes to women sometimes.” “I know she has feelings for me, Eula Mae.” I wasn’t about to tell the Human P.A. System here about last night’s after-dinner kiss. “Forewarned is forearmed,” she intoned. “I‘ve made it clear to her I’m not about to tumble back into her bed. She knows I have feelings for Candace.” Eula Mae raised one plucked eyebrow. “And does Candace know?” “Of course she does!” Eula Mae made a noise in her throat, fished her keys out of her denim skirt pocket, and sauntered off to her purple BMW with the ROMWRTR vanity license plates. I watched her roar off. Eula Mae was obviously not spending nearly enough time in front of her word processor and was inventing romantic fictions in real people’s lives as compensation. Of course Candace knew I loved her. And I wasn’t going back to Lorna.
Nosireebob. Lorna was stretched out on the couch, the back of her hand resting gently against her forehead. Her long legs lay along the cushions, ideally formed and with the beginnings of a tan. Her khaki shorts were snug and short, her neon-aqua T-shirt pulled taut across her breasts. She’d been sweating and there was just a hint of a sheen at her throat. Her waist, which had always fit perfectly against the inside of my arm, was encircled with a colorfully stitched cloth belt.
