Pernicious (36 page)

                                     
* * * * *

         
In the Mercedes, Neal tried to broach the subject yet again, and Perry said, “Later, Neal. Please!”

         
To Neal’s further astonishment, Perry drove into the Woodbridge Apartment complex and parked in front of Tasha’s apartment. A sign on the front door read No Soliciting.

         
“What we doing here?” he said. “How you know Tasha lives here?”

         
Perry ignored him, unlocked the glove compartment and retrieved a paper bag. “Here,” giving it to him. “We’re married now, we don’t need it.”

         
Neal looked into the bag. Tasha’s gun. “I forgot about this.”

         
“Take it back.”

         
Derrick opened the door before Neal could put the key in. “Daddy, we thought something happened to you. Where you been?”

         
Neal picked him up and hugged him. “Here and there,” lowering him to the ground. “I want you to meet someone.”

         
“Who, Daddy?”

         
“A friend.”

         
Perry smiled at Derrick. “Hello, handsome. How are you doing?”

         
“Fine,” Derrick said.

         
“You look just like your daddy. Did your Daddy tell you we were--”

         
Neal cleared his throat and shook his head.

         
“Neal,” Perry said, “why don’t you put your toy away.”

         
Neal put a finger to his lips and winked at Perry before heading to the apartment.

         
Derrick started to follow and Perry said, “Derrick, could you wait a minute? Please.”

         
“What?” Derrick said.

         
“Be nice, Derrick,” Neal said before going inside. He rushed to put the gun away, wanting to get back before Perry could say much.

         
If he only knew.

         
“Where’s your mother?” Perry asked Derrick. He didn‘t answer. “She left you all alone, didn’t she? That’s not nice.”

         
Derrick gave her a cool look, his mouth pinched.

         
“I have a big house, with a pool. Your daddy lives with me now. Wouldn’t you like to visit your daddy at my house?”

         
Derrick shook his head, emphatically.

         
“You don’t want to be bothered, do you?”

         
Derrick turned his back on her.

         
“Do you know what analingus mean?”

         
“No, I don’t.”

         
“It means leave me alone. Instead of saying get out my face, the proper thing to say is
analingus
. Can you remember that?”

         
Neal came out. “Derrick, I gotta go.” Derrick started crying. “What I tell you? Big boys don’t cry. You a big boy, aren’t you?” Derrick nodded but kept crying. “I’ll be back. Go inside and wait for your mother, okay?”

         
Derrick, rubbing his eyes, shuffled toward the apartment. In the doorway he glanced back at Perry, wailed loudly and stepped inside.

         
“I oughta take him with us,” Neal said, getting into the car.

         
“I think you should. He’s just a baby, all by himself.”

         
Neal got out and crossed to the door. Then thought:
Tasha! She’s already hot
. Now wasn’t the time to take Derrick.
     

         
He went and got back into the car. “Let’s go.”

         
“You’re not taking your son?”

         
“Uh-uh. The timing isn’t good.” Changing the subject: “Where are we going now?”

         
Perry started the car. “To the police station.”

         
“Yeah. What for?”

         
She cut a sideways glance at him.

         
“What for?”

         
“To file a complaint.”

         
“Against who?”

         
Perry smiled. “Your ex.”

         
“No, no, no, no! Hell no! This is not a good idea, Perry!” Beseechingly: “Honey, this’ll only aggravate the situation. It’s bad enough. We can’t file a complaint. She might lose her job. She has my son. We can’t do this, Perry!”

         
“Not we,” Perry said, “
you
!”

         
Neal banged his fist against the dash. “No, no, no, no! I’m not doing it!”

         
“Grow some coconuts, Neal!” Perry shouted. “That bumpy-faced ex-bitch of yours broke my furniture and embarrassed both of us! Don’t tell me you can’t do it! Give me a damn break! Don’t tell me you can’t do it!”

         
Neal sat there, stunned, watching her erupt, staring at the veins working in her neck, spittle flying from her lips.
   
Suddenly, just as fast as she exploded, she calmed down. “File the complaint, Neal. Do it for me. Your wife. Please!”

         
Neal shook his head. “I can’t…I can’t do it.”

         
“I told you if I’m willing to sacrifice everything I have, I expect the same in return. I wasn’t talking to exercise my damn jaw!”

         
“Sorry, I can’t do it.”

         
“Hmmph!” wrinkling her nose. “I hope you don’t think you’re screwing me anytime soon. If that’s on your mind, forget it!”

         
“Listen, Perry, all I’m saying, you’re overreacting. She didn’t intentionally break the lamp. Hell, I’ll replace it. What benefit is filing a complaint? It’ll just cause more confusion. Put yourself in her shoes.”

         
“I’m not a fat, bumpy-faced pig, there’s no way I could fit into her shoes!”

         
Neal resisted the urge to smack her good and solid upside her head. “You know what I mean. If you discovered your ex with someone new, you’d do the same, act irrational.”

         
“You’re still screwing her!”

         
“No, I’m not!”

         
“Why are you concerned with her feelings?”

         
“I have a son by the woman.”

         
Perry gritted her teeth. “I don’t give a damn if y’all hatched an egg together. You’re married to me now. And I expect you to act like my damn husband!”

         
They rode the rest of the way in silence.

         
At the station Perry parked, started to get out, stopped.

         
“Neal,” she said softly, “you can either sit here like a big, old smelly pussy, or you can act like a man and accompany your wife inside.”

         
Neal didn’t respond, staring at his shoes.

         
“Which is it, Neal?”

         
Blinking nervously, Neal turned and said, “Meow!”

         
Perry got out and slammed the door behind her.

                                     
Chapter 19

         
Her thirteen years as a police officer not once had Tasha shed a tear on the job. She’d been called every name in the book, including the N-word. She’d been kicked, spat on, sucker punched, and once, when she was working vice, a four-hundred-pound biker stepped on her hand, breaking two fingers. Not a tear shed.

         
Now, sitting in a Dawson County cruiser, she couldn’t stop crying, her face buried in Sheriff Bledsoe’s chest, tears staining his beige uniform.

         
“Let it out,” Sheriff Bledsoe said, rubbing her shoulder. “It does no good holding it in. Just let it all out.”

         
Tasha, eyes red and puffy, sat up straight. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be crying on your shoulder.”

         
“That’s all right. You’re human. You want me to take you home?”

         
She shook her head. “No, I’m still on duty.”

         
“You sure?”

         
She looked around. They were parked behind a large gray building. “Where are we?”

         
“Backside of Wal-Mart.”

         
“She’s going to kill him,” Tasha said, “just like the others, just to get back at me.”

         
“Others? You mean there’s more than one?”

         
“Three. Three husbands. She married them and then she killed them. Made each death look like an accident.”

         
“That’s how she got her money?”

         
Tasha lighted a cigarette. “That’s right. Neal is going to be number four.”

         
Sheriff Bledsoe waved cigarette smoke from his face. “The guy back there, he’s your ex?”

         
“Yes. We have a son. Derrick. Eight years old. Looks exactly like Neal.” She closed her eyes and exhaled. “He loves Neal. Sometimes I think…more than me.”

         
Sheriff Bledsoe shook his head. “I don’t know, it’s hard to believe she’ll try to hurt a law officer’s spouse--excuse me, ex.”