Checkered Past (A Laurel London Mystery Book 2) (6 page)

Eric walked back to Jax’s car without saying goodbye.

“Rude.” I glared at him. “I have other customers and sometimes I can’t help it if I get behind a tractor,” I lied, but didn’t feel bad. She’d never know. “What’s in the bag?”

“You’re as nosy as an old hen and I’m not rude.” Her chin jutted out.

“I didn’t mean you were rude. He’s rude.” I snarled. “He is definitely not from the south.” I made a mental note to never date a northern. “What’s in the bag?” I asked again hoping for an answer.

“It’s medicine.”

“What kind of medicine?” I asked. If she didn’t want me to know, she wouldn’t have told me.

“Insulin.” She let out a long sigh. “I don’t know if I’m gonna use it. But the doctor told me if I didn’t, I wasn’t going to live much longer. I guess I want to live long enough to make my Christmas cookies this year. Everyone loves my Christmas cookies.”

“So you are shooting to live long enough to see Christmas? Then what?” I asked sarcastically, “You don’t care. You stop taking insulin?”

“Laurel London, I’m gonna tell Trixie you are getting to be too nosy.” She looked over at me. I looked at her. There was deep set worry in her eyes. Her crow’s feet deepened. “I guess I want to live.”

“I guess you better take your medicine and start eating right.” I grinned.

“I guess I better.” She shook her finger at me. “And don’t you go around telling people I’m dying or taking medicine. I don’t want anyone knowing my business.”

“I won’t.” I used my finger to cross my heart.

Sharon didn’t talk the rest of the way. I could tell she was chewing over all the information the doctor had given her, hopefully making the right decision to take better care of herself.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said to Sharon. I put the car in park and waited for her to respond.

She confirmed with a nod, but no words.

My phone chirped a text from Jax.
Meet me at my office. Alone. Now
.

I pulled out of Sharon’s driveway and headed Jax’s way. It didn’t look like making it to the library was going to happen today. I had to see Sally Bent, and wait. Willie Ray was going to show up somewhere, but where?

“Do you want to tell me about Willie Ray Bowman?” Jax asked as soon as I walked into the door of the office.

He was alone. He took three steps toward me and stopped, standing there in a hush. Questions flickered in the back of his eyes.

I could hear my own swallow.

“I told you what I know.” I could feel my cheeks flush.
If only I’d swiped on a little lip gloss
, I sighed, a little embarrassed about how I looked just in case Jax decided to lay one on me.

“You told Eric what you wanted him to know.” Jax scratched his hairline. His eyes shifted from the floor to my face. “Laurel, I can’t express how important it is to find him. He killed an FBI officer.”

“I understand that.” I agreed.

“To my understanding he was the bad boy of the orphanage. Got kicked out a few times. And you weren’t exactly on your best behavior as a child.” He shrugged. “It would seem likely that the two worst kids in the orphanage would probably hang out together.”

Jax took a notebook out of his pocket and flipped a few pages.

I took a deep breath. There was no way I was going to say anything about my past with Willie Ray.

“He hasn’t contacted me.” I technically didn’t lie.

The leather pouch might not have been Willie’s. It could’ve been someone who had used my Drive Me app to and from the airport. At least I tried to talk myself into believing someone else could’ve left it when I clearly knew it was the one I had stolen for Willie.

I knew and Willie knew I would remember it.

“When I talked to a few Walnut Grove citizens, they clearly remembered Mr. Bowman hanging out with Derek Smitherman and you. Sometimes Gia.” He read from the notebook I wanted to shove up his you-know-what. “He is a little older than you. The day he robbed the bank, you, Derek and Gia had skipped school.”

Curly Dean. I glared at Jax. It was clear Jax was going to help out the FBI as much as possible. He was on a mission to talk to anyone and everyone in Walnut Grove. It was only a matter of time until he found out how my connection with Willie Ray Bowman wasn’t only because we were both orphans.

“Given your history.” He tilted his head. “And your little ATM scheme at the bank around that time, I’m not feeling it was a coincidence the three of you skipped school on the day a big bank heist was going down.”

“Are you accusing me of helping Willie Ray knock off the bank?” My jaw dropped.

“You want my opinion?” he asked.

“Yeah. Let’s hear it.” Anger boiled deep within me and I couldn’t let it show on my face.

I wasn’t sure if I was mad about what Willie Ray had done to me and was reliving it after all these years. Or if I was mad at how easily Jax was figuring out what happened.

“I think you four had something planned.” He didn’t take his eyes off me. They narrowed. “He needed a getaway car. Derek Smitherman had one. You hated it here, just like everyone with you.”

“And Gia?” I questioned. “Why on earth would Gia risk the luxurious life she has?”

“Gia.” A sneaky grin crossed his lips. If he weren’t so damn cute, I would think about smacking it right off his face. “She loves the thrill you provide for her. She likes living on the edge—going down to your secret spot on the riverbank, drinking, smoking God-knows-what, and skinny-dipping.”

Silence hung between us.

“But that’s just my opinion. And Eric’s got some good ideas about what is going on around here.” He closed the notebook and slipped it back into his pocket.

“Well you know what they say about opinions.”

“What?” Jax asked.

“Opinions are like assholes, some are just louder and smellier than others.” I turned on my toes, tossed my hair behind me and walked out of the door. Of course I sashayed a little to give him something to remember me by.

If I wanted Jax Jackson’s help, there was no way I was getting it. He had already made a deal with the other side. Not that I didn’t think Willie Ray was guilty, nor had I forgiven him; I just wasn’t so sure I was going to be able to give him over as effortlessly as they wanted me to if he did make a personal appearance.

Before I headed to the house to see if Jax and Eric had made their way out to see Trixie, I thought I would make a drive through Walnut Grove and see if there was anything out of place or catching my eye. If Willie Ray was here, I’d know it.

Sally Bent’s car in the parking lot of Lucky Strikes struck me odd. It was far from quitting time at the bank. My curiosity was peeked more than Henrietta’s would be if a mouse scampered across the floor, so I pulled in and parked.

Lucky Strikes wasn’t open for bowling, but it was the only beer joint in town that was open.

“Two birds with one stone.” I grabbed my hobo bag.

Before I got out of the car, I looked around trying to decide how I was going to slip the car tracker on Sally’s car without anyone seeing me. Luckily I had picked a GPS tracker the size of a quarter. It would send up-to-the-minute information to my smartphone. Things like where she was, how fast she was going, really cool stuff.

Sally drove a Honda CRV and she wasn’t as tall as me, putting it on the hood would be a good spot.

I strapped my bag across my body, peeled off the paper to expose the sticky side of the device and got out of the car. When I casually walked by, I smacked the top of her car as far back as I could reach and kept walking. I put my hand in my hobo bag and turned on the wireless device, linking it to my cell. The flashing red light told me it was a go.

“Laurel London?” Sheila smacked a wet bar towel on the bar top and wiped vigorously when she saw me walk in. “It’s a little early for you to be drinking isn’t it?”

My eyes took a minute to adjust from the beating down sunshine. The bar was on the backside of the bowling lanes. It was strange seeing the lanes pitch black and the neon not lit up.

The TV’s behind the bar were on the local MeTV channel where reruns of the
Andy Griffith Show
played. Was it a coincidence
Andy
was Willie Ray’s favorite show?

I think not.

There was a half a bottle of Bud sitting on the counter along with a lit cigarette resting in an ashtray. The men’s bathroom door swung back and forth until it finally came to a stop.

“I thought I might have an afternoon whiskey.” I plopped down on the stool next to the ashtray and beer. “Sheila, when did you start smoking Marlboro Red?”

The type of cigarette along with the beer bottle had Willie Ray Bowman’s stink all over it.

Sheila had taken a perfectly good crew neck Lucky Strikes shirt and cut a big V in the front of it. Her cleavage spilled out of the tattered shirt. Her long red hair hung down the front of her shirt. Her age showed in the lines around her eyes and the heavy black eyeliner didn’t help her any. Her lips and nails were painted with the brightest red lipstick I had ever seen.

Ignoring my question, she threw the towel in the sink behind the bar. She grabbed the remote and put it on an afternoon soap opera. “Trixie watches this doesn’t she?”

“She sure does.” I took another look at the cigarettes and bottle. Not a smidgen of lipstick was on either. “I thought I might get an early start on league night.” I drummed my fingers on the bar and looked around. Waiting. Waiting to see who came out of the men’s bathroom.

Sheila picked up the beer bottle and took a swig. She held the cigarette between her finger and thumb. She squinted her eyes and took a drag before smoke bellowed out in her coughing fit.

“I’ll take a Makers and Coke.” I nodded my head toward the liquor section of the bar.

Even if my hunch about Willie Ray being in the bathroom was wrong, I still could use a stiff drink before facing Trixie. When, or if, she knew about Willie Ray escaping, she was going to be on me like a hawk. Watching my every single move.

“Where’s Bud?” I asked.

“He’s off in Lexington renewing our liquor licenses.” She let out a deep sigh and put the very small glass filled with bourbon and Coke in front of me. I scooted the ashtray closer to her. If anyone would be helping Willie Ray with no questions asked, it’d be Sheila and Bud McKay. Willie had bellied up to this bar to quench his taste for beer more times than I could count and that was way before we were of legal age.

“I suggest you stop smoking.” I grabbed the drink and downed it in one gulp. “Ah.” I let out a long sigh. “Is it me, or have your glasses gotten much smaller?”

“Lunch time.” She slid her eyes to the bathroom door as it swept open.

“Urp.” Charlie Haskel put his hand up to his mouth and burped a few more times. “Pardon me, ladies.” He rubbed his dirty stained hands through his stringy, oily hair.

Charlie stumbled back to the bar adjusting his too big pants by pulling his belt as tight as he could. He grabbed the beer bottle and drank the last of it.

“Damn. You can’t go around drinking everyone’s beer!” Sheila grabbed the bottle and threw it in the trash, crashing along with the other bottles in there.

“Urp.” He belched again and fumbled around the bar toward the door.

“I’ll take another one.” My past was playing tricks on me. Though it was pretty early for their trashcan to be filled with beer bottles. “This time make it a double.”

Maybe I was wrong and Willie Ray wasn’t in town to see me. Hell, it wouldn’t be the first time I was wrong about him.

“Is there something going on?” Sheila slid the drink on the bar top, leaned over the bar and folded her hands in front of her. “I’m not used to seeing you in here this early.”

“I’m not used to seeing Sally Bent’s car in your parking lot either.” I held the glass up in a mock cheers before I tipped my head back and let the smooth taste glide down my throat. “Ahh. . .” I let out a long sigh and put the glass back on the bar top. “I think I’m going to get out of here.”

I took the hobo bag from across my body and put it on the counter. I opened it and plucked a ten-dollar bill out. It caught on the tobacco pouch.

Shelia’s eyes popped open. She didn’t say a word, just swiped the ten. Her reaction didn’t go unnoticed.

When she turned to put the money in the cash register, I took the small listening device and snugged it up under the bar top. I tapped the counter.

“I guess I’ll go,” I said in a loud voice in case someone was there and I wasn’t going crazy.

“Are you sure you can drive?” Sheila tugged on her homemade top.

“As watery as those drinks were?” I lifted a brow and questioned her pouring skills and the pricey drinks. The drinks tasted like straight Coke.

“Lighter at lunch. We don’t want a lawsuit on us for over-serving someone on their lunch break.” Sheila grabbed the glass and stuck it down in the sink, twirled it on the scrubber before dipping it again and drying it.

“I’ll see you tonight.” I tipped my head back.

I took one last look at the bathroom door. My mind might be playing tricks on me, but I wasn’t going to discount the evidence.

Leather pouch. Marlboro Red cigarette burning and several in the ashtray already butted. Beer bottles in the trashcan and one half drank on the bar top. Sheila was awfully suspicious and watched my actions.

My phone chirped from deep within my bag. I dug down until I found it.

Alert: moving at 20 mph on Second Street.

“Shit!” I ran out the door. There wasn’t a trace of Sally Bent’s car.

I hopped in the Belvedere and threw it in gear. Willie Ray wasn’t too far ahead of me and I was going to catch him. He had some explaining to do for me before he needed to explain to the law.

“Damn!” I beat my hand on the wheel, taking a sharp right on I-25 and trying to keep the wheel steady as I read the screen on my phone. I was ahead of the voice chirping the directions. “Here we go with our little cat and mouse game,” I whispered.

The same gut wrenching feelings of chasing him all over this town as a love struck teenage girl tore at my soul.

Once again, he loved leaving me a little trail to follow. The pouch and now this; Willie Ray knew I was looking for him and he wanted me to find him.