I'll Stand by You (35 page)

She grabbed a walking cane from a display near the front door and out the door she went. Moments later, she jumped the curb and bolted across the street without looking for traffic.

One driver slammed on the brakes to keep from hitting her, then honked his disapproval, but she kept on walking, the cane clutched firmly in her fist. The sun was hot on her face, but it was nothing to the heat inside her belly. She was out for revenge and nothing was going to stop her.

A second car coming from the other direction also honked, hit the brakes, and turned sharply into a curb to keep from hitting her, but she never missed a step.

* * *

Frankie heard the first car honk and turned around to see what was going on. At the same time he saw the car, he saw the girl coming toward him, hair flying out around her face like some warrior woman from one of his video games. Before he could react, the second car honked and hit the curb, and she kept coming. After that, everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

He thought she was screaming, because her mouth was open and the rage on her face was impossible to miss, but sound was roaring in his head. He couldn’t come to himself fast enough to move. He watched her raise her arms like she was swinging a bat and then he went down like a poleaxed steer.

“Sorry son of a bitch!” Dori screamed, unaware of the gathering crowd, and swung the cane again.

People came pouring out of Granny’s, as well as stores up and down the street. By then, Frankie was rolled up in a ball, trying to protect his head and face. He was screaming for help when she swung at him again.

“Cowardly bastard! You doped my drink.”

Whack!

“You dragged me out of the gym into the dark and you raped me.”

Whack!

“You raped me and left me bleeding and never looked back.”

Whack! Whack!

“Help! Somebody help me!” Frankie shrieked.

Dori swung at him again, cracking the bridge of his nose, and when he rolled away, she swung again, right behind his knee. He shrieked when it popped.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

“Now you have the guts to think you can come in here and think you’re going to take custody of my baby just so you can get some money?”

She swung again, and just before it came down across the back of his head, someone grabbed her from behind and lifted her off her feet.

“Let me go! Let me go!” she screamed. “That’s him! That’s the man who raped me.”

The gathered crowd gasped in unison, and then the hum of their angry voices sent a cold chill up Frankie Ricks’s spine.

“Dori! Stop it!” Pittman yelled and yanked the cane from her hand before he put her back down. “I’ve got this. Do you hear me? I’ve got this.”

Dori was so angry she was shaking.

“I got a summons to go to court this morning,” Dori said. “He wants joint custody of my baby and child support to take care of him. I want him arrested for rape.”

Frankie moaned. He had not seen this coming. He scooted backward and tried to stand up, but someone in the crowd pushed him back down with their boot. He crawled toward the cop and then pulled himself up. He was bleeding from the nose. He had a cut over his eye and a bloody lip. His shirt was torn, and there was gum on the knees of his pants, not to mention a plethora of bruises he could not see.

“I did not rape this girl!” he shouted. “We had a relationship that went sour, and I’m taking her to court to—”

Officer Pittman frowned, yanked him around, and cuffed him.

“And I have a rape report that fits your description and your first name. If the DNA test I take on you matches Dori Pine’s baby, you are going to be arrested and charged with the crime of forcible rape. That’s what you’ll take to court first.”

Frankie gawked. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

“I didn’t rape you,” he said and gave Dori an imploring look as Pittman dragged him off to his cruiser, taking Frankie and Dori’s weapon to jail.

Dori was still standing in the middle of the street. Her hands were curled into fists and her body was shaking. She stood until the police cruiser disappeared, and then she turned around and walked back toward the pharmacy in a daze, oblivious to the silence of the crowd around her.

LilyAnn and Mr. Phillips were standing on the sidewalk with the baby, Dori’s purchases, and her purse. All Dori could see was her baby.

She stumbled as she reached the back end of her car and then caught herself, took a deep breath, and walked straight up to LilyAnn.

“Thank you for your help,” she said, taking the baby out of LilyAnn’s arms and buckling him into the backseat of her car. She put her purse in beside Luther, got in, and drove away.

Chapter 22

The people dispersed in a dozen different directions, each person carrying a cell phone. Once again, Dori’s life had become everyone’s business. Half of them were spreading the word; the other half had had the foresight to film the event and were uploading it to social media. It was inevitable what would happen to it next.

* * *

Dori spent the rest of the day in a daze. She did a load of laundry and cleaned out the boys’ clothes’ closet, then drove to school to pick them up. Luther was fussy and wanted out of the car seat, so she got out of the car with him to walk around.

Miss Jane was in her van, waiting for her kids, and when she saw Dori, she jumped out and waved.

“Come stand in my shade,” she cried.

Dori walked over, grateful for the offer. Luther was still fussing and rubbing his nose against Dori’s shoulder. She knew he was sleepy, but until she got the boys home, there was nothing she could do to make him better.

“What’s wrong with the boss here?” Jane asked as she patted Luther’s curly head.

“He’s sleepy and cranky,” Dori said.

“May I hold him?” Jane asked. “I haven’t held a baby in years.”

The statement struck Dori as sweet, and in that moment, some of the ugliness of seeing Frankie Ricks slipped away.

“Be my guest,” she said and handed him over.

Luther was immediately intrigued by a new face, although there was a moment or two when it seemed he was debating as to whether he would object to the trade. And then Jane tapped her finger against his nose and smiled, and he smiled back.

“There’s my smile,” Jane crowed and kissed his cheek. “Oh my, he is such a sweetheart. He must make your days a delight.”

Dori sighed. Her priorities were slipping back into place. She ran her fingers through his curls and then rubbed the back of his head.

“You’re right. He does make my days a delight.”

“Congratulations on the wedding. I doubt you saw me, but I was there. I have to say the boys certainly added color to the event.”

Dori grinned. “Yes, they did, and they add color to my life. They are so sweet. Just last night, they decided they wanted to call me Mama, which I love.”

“That’s wonderful,” Jane said. “They certainly needed one. Oh, that’s not to say Johnny wasn’t doing a good job, because he was. But they’re so young, and every kid needs a good mother.”

Dori nodded, remembering how scared she’d been when her mother never came home.

And then the bell rang, and moments later, kids began pouring out of every exit.

“Well, here come the hooligans,” Jane said, kissing Luther’s cheek and handing him back. “Have a nice day, honey.”

Dori smiled as Luther buried his nose against her neck. “You too, Miss Jane. You too.”

She saw the boys coming and paused to wave. Then she heard them yell, “There’s Mama,” and the last of her panic slid away. It would all work out. Life wouldn’t take another thing away from her now. It wouldn’t be fair.

* * *

Frankie’s lawyer, a man named Guidry, showed up three hours after Frankie had been booked and tossed in jail. He got Frankie out on bond and read him the riot act as they exited the jail.

“But you told me to come here,” Frankie whined. “You told me to gain public sympathy for my case.”

Guidry threw up his hands in disgust. “And instead, you wind up getting your ass whipped by the woman you will face in court, and the whole pitiful event is on YouTube. At last count, it already has over a half a million hits and the blood has yet to dry up on your face.”

“I need to go to ER,” Frankie moaned.

“Where’s your car?” Guidry asked.

“Still in front of the café.”

“I’ll drop you off on my way out of town. Get in. I need to be back in Oneida before seven. We have guests coming for dinner.”

Frankie frowned. “I am your client. Am I not more important than dinner guests?”

“No,” Guidry said. “Get in.”

They drove back downtown. Guidry paused to let Frankie out and gave him one last piece of advice. “Stay out of trouble until the hearing or forget it. I won’t be coming back to bail you out again.”

He drove away, leaving Frankie to stumble to his car alone. He started to unlock it, then remembered he’d done that just before he got hit. He opened the door and slid inside, his body one massive ache.

He had a vague idea of where the hospital was, so he started the car and began to back up, but realized something was wrong. He put the car in park and got out to look. All the tires were flat.

“Son of a holy bitch!” he moaned, then got back in the car and drove off.

By the time he got to the hospital, he was driving on the rims. He called for roadside assistance to come change the flats, and then he went into the ER. When he came out later, he found the car up on blocks, all four tires missing.

At that point, he got the message. He was in enemy territory, and he needed to lay low. He got his stuff from the car and called a cab to take him to get a rental. He paid the cabbie and made his way into the rental office. The woman behind the counter looked up, saw his wounds and his limp, and then took a slight step backward. It was the only hint she ever gave that she knew who the fucker was.

“How can I help you?” she asked.

“I need to rent a car.”

“We’re really short right now.”

“Please, lady, I just need something that runs and has wheels. Anything but a motorcycle and I’ll take it.”

“Well, we do have one car. It’s small but gets good gas mileage.”

“I’ll take it,” he said, grateful that something was finally working out.

He filled out the papers, presented his identification, and paid extra for insurance—the way his luck was going, he would likely need it.

He followed the lady outside and across the parking lot, past two very large vans, a Cadillac, two pickup trucks, a Town Car, and two midsized sedans. Then she stopped and pointed.

“Here we are. Let me check it out for scratches and such before you get in. Wouldn’t want you having to pay for someone else’s fender bender.”

Frankie was in shock. It looked like a clown car from the circus.

“What the fuck is that?”

“It’s a hybrid. I told you it was small. Don’t you want it?”

“No, no, it’s fine. It just looks like a clown car. And it’s yellow.”

She laughed. “That’s what everyone calls it. They’ll see you coming in this one, right?”

He rolled his eyes. Just what he needed. A sign on his butt saying,
Here
I
am. Kick my ass again.

After a few more signatures and a copy of the rental, he got in. It took a moment to acquaint himself with the controls, and then he drove away, cursing his luck and wishing he’d never left Savannah. He drove straight to the motel, and as soon as he got in his room, he took two of the pain pills the doctor had given him and collapsed.

* * *

Johnny drove into Blessings a little after five and parked his rig inside the fenced lot, then headed for the office.

His boss grinned when he walked in. “The excitement at your house never ends, does it?” he said.

Johnny blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“About your little wife taking a cane to that man. Boy, did she ever put a whuppin’ on him. I haven’t seen that much fury since Sherman marched through Georgia.”

All of a sudden, he remembered that missed call from Dori and headed out the door.

“If you want to see it, there are a dozen different versions of it already uploaded to YouTube. She’s really something, that girl. You got yourself a winner!” Clawson yelled.

Johnny kept on moving, trying not to panic. The minute he got in his car, he called home, but his call went straight to voice mail. He didn’t bother leaving a message and kept on going.

He pulled up in the driveway, relieved to see she was there, and smelled something good as he rushed up the steps. He walked into what appeared to be normalcy. The boys were side by side, fixated on the television. They didn’t even look up. Luther was in his playpen close by, talking to the ceiling fan. Dori walked out of the kitchen with a dish towel in her hand.

“Hi, Johnny. I’m glad you’re home.”

“I missed your call. I forgot to call back. What the hell happened?” he asked.

“Look, Johnny!” Marshall said. “It’s the bad man who hurt Dori. She caught him for the cops.”

He turned around just as Marshall upped the volume on the evening news and saw a blow-by-blow video of what she had done.

When it was over, he turned around, looked at her like he’d never seen her before, and then took her in his arms and held her.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I’m sorry I wasn’t the one who laid into him. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said, her voice so calm and matter-of-fact after witnessing that rage gave him a chill. “I needed to do that. I had no idea I’d been harboring so much pent-up rage until I got that summons. After that, I sort of lost it.”

“You got a summons?”

Her shoulders slumped. “It’s why he’s in town. I have to be in court, day after tomorrow, for a hearing. He’s suing me for joint custody of Luther and money for maintenance, so to speak.”

“Thank God you filed that report,” he said.

Marshall got up on his knees and looked over the sofa at Dori.

“Mama caught a bad man. I won’t ever be afraid again. If Johnny’s not around, we got ourselves a mama who knows how to whip ass.”