Southern Fried (32 page)

sounded like she was right behind him.

In any case, I already had an idea. Better than sweets. At least

when it came to Jenny. “Fine,” I said. “Just go get him, please.

And hurry.”

And with that, they were gone and so were we.

It was a short drive, of course, and we stopped along the way

to pick up our gifts, what I hoped would literally get our feet in

the door. Especially after she’d said that she never wanted to see

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us again. Needless to say, she wasn’t happy at our arrival. “You’re

joking, right?” she hacked.

I held out the pecan pie for her, the one I’d picked up at

Granny’s favorite bakery. “Best in the South,” I cooed.

She smirked and reached for her mouth, her dentures held

out a split second later. “Nice try,” she gummed.

So out of the bag I removed two mega-large cartons of

Marlboros. “Better?”

She eyed them, covetously. “Close, but no, uh, cigarette.”

She went to shut the door. But my bag wasn’t empty just yet.

See, I’d also stopped at an ATM along the way. “This is much

better for your health, huh?” I asked, fanning a large stack of

bills. Because, as everyone had been saying, I was rich now.

The door stopped, mid-slam. “Five more minutes. Decaf

to wash the pie down with.” She let us in. “And hand over the

ciggies.”

I handed everything over and stepped inside. She closed the

door behind us and sat us down at the kitchen table. Thankfully,

she didn’t recognize Walter, whom I merely introduced as my

work associate, Jeeves. He cringed, but otherwise allowed it. She

served us the pie and the coffee. After all, she might’ve been a

bitch, but she was a southern bitch; and manners always win out.

Plus, she was momentarily distracted by the cigarettes.

Though it was the money that got us in. As I had a feeling it

would. “Don’t take it the wrong way, ma’am,” I said, pointing at

the hefty pile of cash. “But it appears that you’re easily bribed.”

She coughed, a deep smoker’s cough. Then she laughed, a

deep smoker’s laugh. “Hard to take that any other way, don’t you

think?”

I shrugged. “I’m just trying to prove a point here.”

She looked at her watch. “You know the drill, sugar.”

“Right,” I said. “Four minutes and counting.” I took a bite of

my pie. It was delicious, dense with pecans, the crust like heaven.

Granny, you see, knew her pies. The coffee, however, was, not

210 Rob Rosen

surprisingly, nasty. I swallowed and continued. “I just forgot to

ask you something before.”

She eyed me, suspiciously. “Uh huh. What’s that?”

“Who found you after the, uh… well, you know. After it

happened. I can’t recall hearing you say. Nor was it mentioned in

the article I read.”

She squinted and puffed at her newly lit cigarette while I

took another bite of pie. Jeeves leaned in for the answer, mouth

open, eyes wide. “Found me?” she asked, nervously. “One of the

brothers, I think. I guess someone called the police and then they

took me to the hospital. Why?”

“So you told the police what happened in the hospital just

after you arrived?”

She took a deep drag of her cigarette, eyeing the cash on the

table. “I was, I was still drunk. And in shock. It was the next day

when I was able to tell it all. Hard to recall.”

I nodded. “And did you have any visitors during that time?”

She crushed the cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. “I think

your time’s up,” she rasped.

I looked at my watch. “I still have a minute left. Humor me,

please, ma’am.”

“I can’t remember. It was a long time ago,” she said.

“Huh,” I said. “So you can’t remember who raped you, what

he looked like, who found you, how you got to the hospital, when

the police interrogated you, or if you had any visitors. Yet, the

tattoo you clearly remembered. Which seems odd to me. I mean,

I’d think if you could remember that, then you could remember

a face, right?”

She was shaking now, a second cigarette lit, her eyes darting

around the room. “Like I said, it stood out. At the time.”

“Even though you were drunk?” I asked. “And in shock?”

She paused, eyeing the both of us now, seemingly unsure of

how to answer. It was then that Jeeves spoke up, breaking the

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silence that had formed. “How much did he pay you?” he asked,

his voice even, calm.

She looked away. “Who? No one paid me. I was raped.” She

was now manic, screeching at us.

“Jenny,” I said, as politely as possible. “I’m not saying you

weren’t raped. In fact, I’m sure you were. But the tattoo, how

much did he pay you to tell the police about it? Five hundred?

A thousand? Enough to help ease the pain just a little bit.” She

didn’t answer, just merely shut her eyes good and tight. “You

know, the boy who lived in that room had a rebel flag tattoo.

Only, he wasn’t at the party that night. He came back after you’d

been taken to the hospital. He was never arrested, but he was still

a prisoner afterward, his life altered as much as yours was. For

the worse.”

“Much worse,” added Jeeves, lifting up his shirt.

She opened her eyes, which landed on the tattoo. “You,” she

croaked out, with a whimper.

‘The reason you didn’t recognize me, ma’am, the reason you

never have, even after you’ve past by me a handful of times over

the years, is because you never officially ever saw me, except in

pictures. Because I didn’t do that… that to you.”

She sighed, deeply. “Please, put your shirt back down,” she

managed. “Please.”

He did as she asked. “He paid you to tell the police about it.”

She nodded. “He said no one would want me. As a wife, as a

girlfriend. Not even to work for them. In the South, back then,

he was right.”

“And the money would help,” I added.

She nodded. “Five thousand was a small fortune back then.

Much of it went toward counseling.” She gazed at us, a look of

relief washing over her. Clearly, this had weighed heavily on her

over the years. “But I can’t testify now. Not against him. He’s too

powerful. They’ll never believe me. Especially after all this time.”

Jeeves stood up. “It doesn’t matter, ma’am. I’m just glad you

212 Rob Rosen

told us now. It… it changes everything.” He looked at me and

smiled. “Lots of stupid things were done and said back then.

And, by the looks of things, only
he
got anything out of it.”

I nodded. “But
he’s
not the only one who’s rich and powerful

now. And sometimes knowledge is better than money. And that

we have in droves, Walter.” I sat back down and jabbed my fork

into my dessert. “That and one hell of a good pecan pie.”

He, too, sat back down and ate with gusto. “Your Granny

only bought the best.”

I grinned. “She wasn’t too shabby with the hiring, either.”

He laughed and looked up at Jenny, who was now slicing a

large piece for herself. She sat down and joined us. “Fuck the

dentures,” she said, greedily digging in. “And if he thinks he’s

getting my vote, he’s got another thing coming to him.”

Oh, he had a lot of things coming to him. A whole hell of a

lot.

Then again, so did we.

Jeeves and I drove in silence, him at the wheel, speeding

down a narrow road, heading toward our destinies. First we’d

get Beau, then we bring down the Pellinghams. It should’ve been

that simple. Shoulda, woulda, coulda. Only, of course, it wasn’t.

Mainly because we didn’t get to Beau first.

My cell broke the silence. “Tsk, tsk,” said the voice on the

other end.

“Who’s this?” I asked, my nerves so rattled they felt like a ride

at Six Flags.

“Never trust a spy,” came the cryptic response. “At least one

with a fly on the wall.”

I looked over at Jeeves. “Your, uh, your apartment is bugged,”

I told him, with a grimace.

He came to a screeching halt. “Fuck,” he cursed.

The voice on the other end laughed. “Very unlike Walt to use

such foul language.”

“Yeah, well it’s been a long day.”

The laughter stopped. “And it’s about to get a lot longer.”

“What do you want, Robbie?” I asked.

“Want?” he asked. “I already have everything I need, boy. I

have your brother, your maid, your pool boy, your contractor,

and your boyfriend. All right here, safe and sound.”

“You can’t kill them all,” I said, forcing myself to breath now.

“Kill? Why would I do that?” he asked, menacingly. “I could

just destroy them, financially, personally. You and that butler of

yours, too. All of them. And nobody would know it came from

me. Easy as that.” I heard a
snap
on the other end of the line.

214 Rob Rosen

“And what can I do to stop all that?” I asked, hand so sweaty

it was a wonder I could still hold the cell.

“Go back to New York, Trip,” he said. “Forget about all of

this. Take your brother with you, sell the mansion, pay off the

staff. It’s a win/win situation for everyone.”

“Except for my parents,” I spat. “They didn’t win. I thought

you loved her, Robbie?”

He paused. “Bad shit happens to good people, boy. It’s the

way of the world.”

“Fine,” I said. “Let them go and I’ll do as you’re asking.”

Again he laughed. “Also the way of the world, boy; nothing is

that easy. You come here, hand over the birth certificate, and we

watch you and Beau get on a plane.”

“Deal,” I said.

But he was still laughing. “Nope, still too easy, boy. Plus, Pearl

and Walt come to work for me until after the election. Just so I

can keep tabs.”

And still I said, “Deal,” even though I didn’t mean it the first

or the second time. And I certainly didn’t think Pearl would agree

to work for the Pellinghams. And if she did, they wouldn’t be

alive too far into her servitude. Which, all things considered,

wasn’t such a bad idea, I supposed.

“Fine,” he said. “Bring Beau’s birth certificate to my son’s

apartment. After that, we’ll all meet up at the airport in Savannah.

I already took the liberty of buying you and Beau two flights to

JFK. Once the planes take off, Pearl and Walt work for me for

the time being. After the election, they’re all yours again. And

then we can put all this behind us. And if you should think of

going to the press after the election, I’ll recant Walt’s alibis and

make sure your staff never finds work again. Anywhere. Ever.

And, trust me, I have enough dirt on your granny now to ruin her

good name, too. So, you take me down or my father down, it’ll be

like one giant house of cards. Tumble, tumble, tumble. Got it?”

“Got it,” I sighed.

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215

“Good.” Then click.

I turned to look at Jeeves, who was frowning more than usual.

Though I did have a last-ditch plan up my sleeves. “Do you think

he’ll really let us all go after we’re all together in one place?” I

asked, rhetorically.

He shook his head. “If you had asked me that same question

a few hours ago, I would’ve said yes. Now I’m not so sure. But

what choice do we have?”

The slightest grin made its way up my face. “As Granny used

to say, we have two choices, the bad one and mine. And I’ll go

with mine.”

“Meaning?” he asked, echoing my smile with one of his own.

“Head over to Beau’s house. The secret one. We’ll start from

there,” I said.

“But the birth certificate won’t be there,” he said. “They

would’ve looked already.”

I shrugged. “Not what I’m after. Yet.” I winked at him. “Just

head over there. And pray I’m on to something. Otherwise, it’s

going to be a long flight to New York.”

He nodded, put the car in gear, and drove off. We arrived a

short while later. Naturally, the place was empty. Then again, it

wasn’t Beau’s home we were headed to; it was Zeb’s car, which

had been left behind when they were all kidnapped.

“What are you getting out of there?” Jeeves asked me,

standing behind me as I rummaged around.

“These!” I yipped.

He took them from me. “Horse tranquilizers and, what’s that,

peach brandy? What if they don’t like peach brandy? Very few

people do, apart from your granny and me.”

“Trust me, I know,” I told him. “But this is only half of it.

There’s one more quick stop we have to make before we head

over to Port’s.”

And that we pulled up to fifteen minutes later. “Billy Ray’s

216 Rob Rosen

peanut stand?” he asked. “You lost me, Trip.”

I grinned. “As Granny always said, to catch the best fish, you

gotta have the best bait.”

“Since when are boiled peanuts bait?” he asked.

“They’re not,” I replied, hopping out. “Wait here.”

Ten minutes later, Billy Ray and a half dozen bags of peanuts

were in the back seat. “Walter,” I said. “Meet the bait.”

We were flying down the road quick as a wink, the windows