A Dark and Lonely Place (34 page)

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Authors: Edna Buchanan

BOOK: A Dark and Lonely Place
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The Everglades hideout soon rang with heated debate. Hanford Mobley tried to persuade his uncle John and the others to flee Florida for new lives elsewhere. Hanford had enjoyed honest employment, weekly paychecks, and life free from trouble with the law. The world outside Florida, he said, was so big, so promising, so booming, they had no need to resort to crime. Men like them, he said, young and willing to work, could easily succeed without guns, while their current path would lead them to prison, at best.

John listened. He hated to let go of his Miami dreams but admitted that though he and Laura had sorely missed Florida when they were on the run, they now fondly recalled the simple pleasures of that time together. There was no way for them to enjoy simple pleasures in South Florida. Not while Bob Baker was sheriff.

The feud between Sheriff Baker and John Ashley had become bitter and obsessive. John’s talent for escape, his ability to elude capture, his taunts at the law, and his popularity among the native crackers had ignited a fire in the bellies of law enforcement officers now determined to get Ashley, no matter what it took or how they did it.

Missing the big score in West End was a sign, an omen, John thought. He agreed, it was time to go.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Y
ou promised not to leave me again, John.” Laura’s voice rose. “You swore!”

“I’m
not
leaving you!”

She backed away, her eyes red and swollen. “Then what do you call it?”

“I’m just going on ahead, darlin’.”

She shuddered and hugged her arms. “Don’t ever say that!”

“You know what I mean, darlin’. We’ll find the right place, then I’ll send for you and Mama. It’s safer.”

“Safer? Tell me, how? I’m a better shot than all three of the boys you’re taking along. And they don’t love you like I do,” she said passionately. “We’re safer together. But you’re right about one thing, John. If we stay, we’ll die before our time like Bobby, Ed, Frank, and poor Joe. But if we go, it should be the way we did it before. Together.”

He brooded, eyes dark, then shook his head. “Too risky. I want to grow old with you, Laura. That’s all I want in this life.”

Her eyes flared in defiance. “What makes you think I want to grow old, with you or anyone? I never said I did! My grandma says growing old is hell. I want you, love you, need to be with you for whatever time we have.”

His eyes softened. “It’s too risky to travel together. You know that.” He spoke slowly, persuasively, as though to a stubborn child. “My face is on every other tree, pole, and fence, under ‘Wanted, Dead or Alive.’ And since that damn picture of us hit the newspapers, every two-bit bounty hunter in Florida is locked, loaded, and hunting us.”

“And tell me who,” she asked, her voice brittle, “gave that photo to the newspapers?”

Leugenia had taken the full-length snapshot of John and Laura with a new Kodak camera Bill bought her. In it, Laura wore a holstered revolver around her waist. The photo had disappeared from the family scrapbook Leugenia carefully kept.

“We been through that a dozen times.” John sighed bitterly. “We have our suspicions, but no way in hell to prove ’em.”

Laura dropped to her knees beside the bedstead, her voice muffled as she buried her face in the handmade quilt. “How can you leave me? You swore you never would. I left my husband, my children, my home . . .”

“Why in hell did you ever marry that sorry-ass son of a bitch when I said I’d be back?”

“Be back?” She wheeled to face him. “When? After how many years with no word? You swore you’d never bring that up again! Promises mean nothing to you.”

“Goddamnit, Laura. I meant every word I ever said to you since you were five. And I never woulda mentioned Edgar again, ’cept you just brought him up!” He paced the room angrily. “I thought I knew you, girl. But the way you’ve been carrying on, a man can’t win. How can I even . . .”

So engrossed were they that neither heard Lucy arrive. Leugenia, who’d been shucking sweet corn, welcomed her into the warm and fragrant kitchen.

“How are you, Mama?” Lucy sweetly kissed her cheek.

Leugenia, mourning her husband and three sons, wore black from head to toe. Lucy’s flouncy dress was sunshine yellow and white, colors of hope and innocence.

Agitated voices came from the room John and Laura shared. Lucy cocked her head. “My word.” Her eyes widened, her hand flew to her lips, and she hitched her shoulders in a gesture of genteel surprise. “Can I believe my ears, Mama? Have the lovebirds fallen out?”

Leugenia nodded, eyes welling with tears.

Lucy’s face lit up as John shouted, “Quit it now, Laura! Quit arguing. This is how it’s gonna be, and that’s it.”

“No!” Laura cried. “I know I’ll never see you again!”

“It ain’t like it sounds,” Leugenia murmured softly in the quiet kitchen. “They love each other dearly. Always will.”

“Well, if your son Billy ever used that tone of voice to me . . .” Lucy’s eyes rolled, pale lashes aflutter. “I should go, I s’pose, though I hate leavin’ you alone here in the middle of a family fight. Think there’ll be bloodshed?” She seemed to brighten at the thought.

“Oh, no, dear. Of course not.” Leugenia looked back, startled, as she tended a sizzling skillet on the burner. “And don’t feel you have to go, Lucy. You’re family, always welcome in this house.”

Lucy smiled as she edged into the hallway to better hear the rapid-fire exchange of words. “Whatcha fixing now, Lu?” Her pert nose twitched, like that of an animal testing the breeze. “It’s way past suppertime.”

Leugenia hesitated for only a moment. “Johnny’s leaving,” she whispered. “No one’s s’posed to know.”

“Leaving Laura?” Lucy’s eyebrows and bosom rose simultaneously.

“Oh, no,” Leugenia said earnestly. “He’d never do that. But since that picture of ’em got in the newspapers, Sheriff Baker has everybody huntin’ the two of ’em together. So he and the boys are gonna leave, find a place to start over and go straight. Johnny says it’s the only way to stop the killin’.” She twisted her worn gold wedding band and looked wistful. “He’s sending for Laura and me when they’re settled.”

Lucy dropped into a chair, fanning herself dramatically, as though shocked. “I had no idea,” she breathed. “Lu? You’d leave Florida?” Her feral eyes darted about the room as though inventorying the furniture. “Does Billy know?”

“I’m not sure.” Leugenia looked confused. “I think so.”

“When are they going?” Lucy asked, all wide-eyed and innocent.

“Bright and early tomorrow. I’m fixing ’em a basket of eats to carry with ’em, fried chicken, ham, baked beans, and biscuits.”

“They driving? Taking the big Ford?” Her eyes grew as stealthy as a big cat stalking prey.

Leugenia didn’t see Lucy’s expression as she checked the biscuits in the oven. “Drivin’ up to Fort Pierce,” she said, “then north through Sebastian tomorrow night. Johnny wants to stop to see his sister Daisy and her family upstate. Then they’re on to Georgia and wherever the road and the good Lord leads ’em.”

“What about Miami?” Laura’s question echoed from their room. “Our plans?”

John paused. “Miami’ll still happen for us, darlin’, I promise.”

“How?” She shook her head in disbelief.

“Darlin’, you know everybody in Miami came from somewhere else. Only Indians and a few babies were born there.”

In the kitchen, Lucy strained to hear John’s words.

“Miami has a short memory,” he said. “When there’s trouble, it’s big, but it blows over fast. Baker’ll lose his badge one way or the other. How can that man not go down in disgrace? Next thing you know, we’ll be forgotten. Nobody will even remember us. We’ll be together there one day, Laura. I promise. I just can’t stand you hating me right now.”

“You know I could never hate you.”

He reached for her. This time she kissed him back, again and again until they moved as one to the four-poster bed.

“At least they ain’t fightin’,” Lucy said smartly, as she gathered her things.

“Don’t go so soon, dear. I’ll fix us some tea.”

“Sorry, Mama. Just remembered an errand I forgot to run, and Bill’s already waitin’ on me at home.”

As she reached the front door, they heard a muffled cry. A door slammed. John stomped down the hall and burst shirtless into the kitchen, hair uncombed, his face dark.

“Son?” Leugenia said gently. “Can I get you something?”

He shook his head, stared hard at Lucy, then brushed by them both to carry a bulky canvas bag to the barn.

Laura’s sobs sounded from the bedroom.

Lucy bid her mother-in-law a hasty goodbye. As she passed the barn where John stood peering under the hood of the car, she turned her face away to hide her triumphant smile.

Neither spoke.

He straightened up after a moment, wiped his hands on a rag, and watched thoughtfully as she rushed away. She never looked back.

“Mama?” John asked a short time later. “How long was Lucy here?”

“Just a few minutes, son. Billy’s waiting on her at home.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

D
eputy T. W. Stone sat in his car at the four corners where they often met. When he saw her car approach, he drove to a lonely spot in the piney woods where he pulled off the road into the shadow of the trees.

She followed. “Hello, T. W.” She glowed, almost giddy, as he opened her car door.

“What’s got into you, blondie? You look like the cat that ate the canary.”

“Oh, it’s lots more excitin’ than that, handsome, so much more.” Her pouty lips parted in a huge smile. “I’m about to give you something you won’t forget.”

He turned to take the blanket from his car.

“Oh, I can’t stay for all that, sweetie. Next time. I just stopped by to drop off some news and then go home to my husband. You’ll earn yourself a big bonus for this,” she said coyly. “Listen.” She drew him close, then whispered her news in his ear, his right arm around her waist.

His body language morphed from sexual to serious business. “You’re sure?”

She nodded, eyes alight, still smiling.

“What are they driving?” He let her go and fingered his thick brown mustache as he processed what she’d said.

“The Ford touring car.”

“How many?” He took a pencil and small notebook from his pocket.

“All four of ’em, honey—John, Hanford, Ray Lynn, and Clarence Middleton.”

“Armed?”

“That’s like asking do I ’spect the sun’ll rise in the mornin’. A course. What’d you ’spect?” She giggled as he took a deep, excited breath.
“Knew that would get your attention, sweet boy. Don’t say I never did you any favors, T. W.”

“I’ll never let on who told me,” he swore.

“Tch,” she sighed aloud, as though annoyed. “But honey, after you nail ’em, everybody’ll be asking how Sheriff Baker got wind of it. And when they do, I want you to tell the whole world, ’specially the newspapers.”

“But—”

“Here’s what you’re gonna say, sunshine.” On tiptoe, she whispered again.

His head jerked back in disbelief. “You’re a helluva woman!” He laughed heartily. “You’re brilliant. You sure you want me to say that?”

“Knocks two birds outta the sky with a single stone, don’t it?” she snickered conspiratorially.

“You are a piece of work, gal. Hope you never set your gun sights on me.”

“Now, why in the world would I ever do that, T. W.? Promise that’s what you’ll tell ’em?”

“Sure.” He shrugged and grinned. “It’s beautiful, Lucy. Perfect. Like you.”

She licked her lips, then kissed his mouth hard. Their embrace was brief. Each was now preoccupied with urgent business elsewhere.

“How can you be sure?” Sheriff Baker whined from behind the oversized desk that dominated his small office. He loved that imposing piece of furniture, unaware of how much smaller he looked when he sat behind it. “Smells like a setup. Ashley’s gunning for me, you know. He’s snake smart and rabbit fast. He’d sell his soul to get me in an ambush.”

“Woman’s never lied to me yet,” T. W. said. He leaned forward in his chair. “I’d swear on the Bible that everything she’s told me is the whole truth and nothing but. You said yourself a dozen times how valuable it’s been for us to have a confidential informant inside the family.”

The sheriff scowled and got to his feet. He wore his brown three-piece suit, a slick silk tie, and his ever-present gold pocket watch. He loudly jingled small change in his pockets as he rocked nervously. “Lucy probably lies down for John Ashley too.” He pointed his index finger at T. W. “Whatcha think about that?”

“Never saw or heard a hint that he’s ever showed interest in any woman but Laura. But even if he did, he’d never do his brother like that. Got to admit, if nothing else, the Ashleys stick together. And ’sides, Lucy ain’t his type.”

“She’s sure your type, ain’t she?” Baker said irritably, and loudly jingled his coins.

The sound and Baker’s attitude set T. W.’s teeth on edge, but he refused to show it.

“She sure is,” he answered, “so long as my wife don’t find out. When I pinned on that badge and took the oath, I didn’t know all the sacrifices involved.”

“You mean extra benefits, don’tcha?” Baker leered.

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