A Wild Red Rose (13 page)

The director raised an eyebrow. “Being a stranger and all, I’d stay on this side of the fence.”

The mourners reached the large tomb in time to see Dewey take to the air again from another blow. This time the battered man, adrenaline pumping, managed to get up and make a break, vaulting the low fence like a competitor in the Senior Olympics.

Bodey Landrum stopped Dewey with strong hands to his shoulders and said with a slow drawl, “Now, what’s going on here, podner? Clint, what have you got to say?”

“That man sexually abused Renee from the time she turned twelve.”

“Then, he’s all yours.” Bodey shoved Renee’s uncle back in Clint’s direction.

“His word against mine,” shouted Dewey. “And I’m family. Who you gonna believe, Jed?”

“My daughter. Is this true, Renee?”

“Yes,” she said faintly, then louder. “Yes, he did, and mother, too, when she was a girl. I’m fairly sure. She was afraid you’d leave her if you knew, and so she said nothing, did nothing, to stop him.”

“Your daughter lured me on that trip to Paris, Jed. She begged me to make her a woman. That little tramp was all over me every time I came to visit Pru. I tell you Renee has suction better than a vacuum cleaner. And this guy is probably taking advantage of that every night, so he ain’t no better than me.”

Jed Niles’ eyes met the steady blue eyes of Clinton O. Beck. “Hold him for me, son.”

Clint locked Dewey’s arms, and Jed Niles put all he had into a punch to the gut. Dewey retched vomit and blood into the grass.

“May I?” asked Bodey Landrum. Jed Niles nodded. The former bull rider executed a nice upper cut that jerked Dewey from Clint’s hold. The man writhed on the ground. The pointed toe of a high-heeled shoe landed between his ribs.

“And that’s for Chelsea,” swore Ex-Aunt Anna. She kicked him again.

Behind them, a soft chorus rose from the women who had surrounded Renee and Chelsea, hugging their shoulders, touching their hands. “We didn’t know. We didn’t know,” said Cathy and Eve and Rusty’s wife, Noreen.

Appalled, Fr. Brian made his way across the cemetery, his vestments flapping in his haste to prevent murder. He overtook and passed the hobbling nuns and held up his hands. “Please, please stop! No matter what this man has done, you must desist and call an ambulance.”

“Figures he’d get sympathy from a priest,” muttered Bodey Landrum. His wife took a second out from consoling Renee to slap her husband’s arm. She’d take the time later to kiss his bruised knuckles at home, he knew.

Rusty Niles, towering over petite Ex-Aunt Anna, held the woman back from doing more damage. Despite being a former steer wrestler, he lost his grip on the little woman who went right back to kicking Dewey and shrieking, “I needed all that child support for Chelsea’s therapy, or I would have turned you in years ago!”

“Please, enough! This man needs medical assistance,” the priest implored.

Jed Niles took a cell phone from his pocket and punched in a number. “Yeah, I need you to come get a man in the Mt. Carmel cemetery. A child molester. Oh, and he might need medical care.”

Jed pocketed the slim phone. “Anyone else want to get a lick in before the police get here?”

Renee left the comfort of the circle of women and stepped forward. She aimed her kick at Uncle Dewey’s crotch and hit him where it hurts, way below the belt line. Dewey curled up like one of those big, white grubs that feed on the roots on young plants and vomited some more into the grass.

The nuns arrived panting and limping in time for the finale. Their legs might be feeble, but they both had their hearing. The accusations shouted during the brawl had carried well to their old ears.

“Oh, my!” said Sr. Inez with some satisfaction. “That must have hurt.”

“God’s will be done.” Sr. Helen nodded. “Not that I take any joy in another’s pain.”

“I think we might just have seen the answer to all our prayers, Sister.”

Sr. Helen watched Clint Beck enfold Renee into his arms. Their former student was crying, burrowing into his chest as if she wanted to hide.

“Clint, take me away from here.” No one stopped the couple as they started back toward the church.

“Oh, Nessy, we aren’t done praying yet. Before we leave, we must stop at the grave of the Blessed Mother Leontine, founder of our academy, and ask for her aid in bringing about a happy ending.”

Neither Renee nor any of the witnesses had an idea what the babbling old nuns were talking about, but Clint gave them a smile over his shoulder as he led Renee away.

****

The two cops assigned to Rainbow by the parish sat at a table in the nearby restaurant. They’d done their duty and run the escort from the funeral home in Lafayette to the church, then chowed down at the café. Reluctantly, they asked for a box to encase the half-eaten big burgers and good, greasy fresh cut fries and a go-cup for the ice cold sweet tea before heading over to the graveyard where an assault seemed to have taken place.

“They tried to kill me,” a little man in a bloody white suit writhing on the ground claimed. “Arrest them, officers, all of them!”

“The way I see it, this here child molester, tripped over a couple of tombstones and damaged himself.” Bodey Landrum slipped his bruised fist into a coat pocket.

“Yep. That’s the way it went down. He tried to get away after my daughter accused him abusing her since she was twelve.” Jed Niles used his pocket square to clean his jacket of vomit.

“Anyone else want to say anything?”

The group remained silent except for one of the nuns. “Oh, we were much too far away to see anything. Just got here, in fact,” said Sr. Helen, her blue eyes wide.

A fair-haired young woman in ruffled black stepped up. “Sad to say, I’m his daughter. If you need proof of what he did, get a warrant for his computer! I’ll give testimony, too. My therapist has wanted me to come forward for years.”

The officers put the cuffs on Dewey, hauled him up and over to the squad car parked in the Academy’s drive. They figured he’d live till they got him to the jail.

The group gathered by the big tomb began to disperse. The nuns turned down a ride to the funeral reception, saying they were close to the convent and wished to visit Mother Leontine’s grave. Bodey and Eve started after Clint and Renee but did not catch up with them. The other family members took a stricken Jed Niles back to his car that his brother Ted insisted on driving. The last to leave were Rusty and Noreen Niles. Noreen, the family historian, wanted to take a closer look at the sepulcher.

“Well, blood is smeared on the old Niles family tomb, and vomit is in the grass, but no major damage to the structure. I’ll come by tomorrow and wash it off.”

“Don’t. Let the rains take care of it. Thanks to you, I know my ancestors fairly well. I think at this moment, they are mighty pleased one of their own was avenged.”

Chapter Twelve

Renee flung expensive cosmetics into a handbag far too smart to take to a rodeo. She’d fixed her eye make-up, not much of a chore as she wore less of it these days. Her suit lay on the bed in her tiger-striped lair. Clint had helped her out of the troublesome skirt with the stuck zipper. She’d packed only an overnight bag to make this trip and was already back into her boots, jeans, and a casual top. Clint watched her with a worried look on his face.

“What’s the matter, handsome? Did I tell you how great you looked in that suit before you got blood and barf all over it? I don’t know if the blood will come out of that silk tie, though. Frankly, I didn’t know Bodey Landrum owned any real ties; he’s so cowboy. And you say you borrowed that suit from him, too? Isn’t Bodey an inch or so shorter than you? Looks like someone tailor-made it for you. Maybe a good dry cleaner will be able to get the stains out and repair the tears.”

Hating her fake cheeriness, Clint answered, “Yeah, I got the suit over at Bodey’s. He won’t care about the damage. Renee, don’t you think you need to have a long talk with your father and sister before you go anywhere?”

“What I need to do is to get out of here. Word about Uncle Dewey will be all over town before we get on the plane. I can’t bear the pity. Take me back where no one knows anything about me. Take me back to The Tin Can.”

“Oh. The way you were packing, I thought maybe you were planning on going somewhere else.”

“Not for now.”

The doorbell rang, followed by a fist pounding on the front door.

“Renee, this is your father. Open up. Your Uncle Ted and his wife are out in the car thinking I’ll stroke out any minute like he did the year Jesse was born, so let me in.”

Clint headed for the living area. Renee bounded after him, hanging on his arm, but she couldn’t really stop him. He let Jed Niles in and stepped outside. “Talk,” he said before closing the door.

Jed tried to embrace his daughter, but she moved away and hugged herself with her own arms.

“Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Because you were always gone, chasing other women, even during the holidays.”

“Your mother didn’t care for sex. I guess I know why now. She wouldn’t let me touch her until after we were married, and then, it wasn’t so good. I thought we weren’t compatible that way. After Cathy came along, I agreed to take my lust elsewhere, but I promised I wouldn’t leave her, and I didn’t. Renee, I have the hot blood of the Niles family.” Her father ended his plea by holding out his hands to her.

“Uncle Ted and Rusty manage to contain themselves.”

“Yeah, well, neither ever had the money for high-class hookers, and both got a woman they love who loves them back.”

“Is it true you’re seeing Mrs. Parker? Mom said you were.”

“A man gets older. He wants a woman he can be comfortable with.”

“That hurt her. I don’t think she cared about mistresses or call girls, but a woman Mom’s own age, and not all that attractive—she couldn’t handle it.”

Jed Niles hung his head. “You think she took her own life?”

“No. I think she tried to drink away the pain and was too far gone to save herself.”

“Cathy said Uncle Dewey didn’t touch her because you were always in the way. She says she never knew what she owed you. She wants to be a better sister. Says she’ll help you any way she can.”

“How nice of her after all these years of avoiding her slutty sister, not even letting me babysit her kids. Not that I cared. I’m not cut out to be a doting aunt or a good mother.”

Jed Niles ran a hand through his thick, prematurely white hair. “Don’t say that. The man you brought home with you, he might want a family someday.”

“Clint? Isn’t he just another one of my men toys, as Cathy said? He isn’t rich, won’t even have a job after this year,” she sneered, daring her father to make something of it.

“I like his style, the way he took charge, the way he stood by you. You need a strong man, Renee. If he can get a real estate license, I’ll see he gets a job.”

“Thanks, Daddy. I’ll pass the offer along. Now, I want to get out of here.”

“You might have to come home to testify against Dewey.”

“If it will spare some young girl the pain, I’ll take the stand in her place. Let me know when. You’ll have to reach me through Clint. My phone was stolen along with all my credit cards a while ago.”

“No new charges have come through. Here, take my phone. I’ll have your name put on this card.” Jed handed her an American Express Gold card from his wallet. “I want you to be able to come home anytime in case things don’t work out.”

“Clint takes good care of me, but I contribute.”

“I know you do.” Jed strained to keep any sexual insinuation out of his voice, an effort not wasted on Renee. “May I kiss you good-bye, honey?”

Renee, her arms still wrapped around herself, stepped into her father’s embrace. He kissed the top of her head. Tears gathered in the corners of his whiskey brown eyes. He moved to get out of there fast. Jed passed Clint on the sidewalk in front of Renee’s house. He paused.

“You take care of my little girl, son. If you ever need money or a job, call.”

“That’s not likely, sir, but I do appreciate the offer. Renee is safe with me. My word on it.”

The men shook hands. Renee watched from the half-open door as they discussed her. As soon as her father got into the back seat of the car and Uncle Ted drove away to the top of the hill, she opened the door and said, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Chapter Thirteen

Clint was content with the way things were for the moment. He and Renee tooled along in the Belly Nelle, The Tin Can rattling behind them, away from the high country of Wyoming and headed toward Texas. Just the two of them. Each weekend, he’d appear at one of the small rodeos along his carefully configured route. When they reached San Antone, he wanted to visit his mother for a few days before flying off to the big Ellensburg Labor Day rodeo in Washington State.

He had some concerns about Renee being lethargic in the mornings and showing no interest in food, but she usually perked up as the day went on. Clint thought the need for extra sleep and the lack of appetite made up part of her healing process. He prayed to God the symptoms didn’t point to depression.

Whenever they stayed in an area with cell towers that blasted phone her father gave to her would ring. Her sister or dad talked until the battery wore down. He’d had to stop at a store and get a charger to plug into the Nelle’s ancient cigarette lighter and hoped to hell it didn’t ignite the entire truck. They wanted her forgiveness. After the calls, Renee cried as she did so easily lately. If he could find that little pickpocket again, he’d have him boost the new phone and throw it away.

Back in Rainbow, Renee had restocked her suitcase with a fresh array of slinky clothes and shouldered an expensive leather bag. With her father’s credit card, she could buy more anytime—or use it to finance a plane ticket home whenever she became bored with him and their quirky road trip. Just when he thought he’d made some progress again, the old Renee might arise at any moment and take flight with a fancy suitcase full of new duds her guilty father would gladly pay for, no questions asked, no demands she return the stuff. Some people called a fat chance a flying pig. Well, he dreamed of flying tigers not of the fighter plane variety.