Splintered Bones (22 page)

I almost stepped back. "Certainly not. I think the ability to go after what you want without being hampered by the past is a sign of real strength. I admire Simpson."

He laughed without humor. "My God, she hated that name. She hated everything about her childhood. Her mother was the ice queen, and her father was a lush. She was lucky she found me. We're the best thing that ever happened to each other."

"I'll be sure to note that in my book," I said as I made my escape.

When I went back out front, the joint was so jammed I had to push for fifteen minutes to get close enough to the bar to order a drink. With a bourbon-and-water in hand, I perched at the edge of the bar and watched the stage.

Krystal came out on a roll of drums and blew two kisses into the audience. She didn't waste any time. Long strides carried her across the small stage as she belted out an old Janice Joplin song, redone in country style. She was damn good.

The more I watched her, the more I liked her act. She'd blended the look of the Grand-Ole-Opry-cowboy-glitz with the heart of traditional rock'n'roll, and in the process had harnessed something hot. She also looked and moved like a star. She possessed that legendary "it" quality.

Everyone who had known Simpson would be stunned at the transformation. The only thing that could begin to compare was Cece's sex change. Even then, everyone had always sort of thought of Cecil as feminine.

No one could ever have imagined Simpson as Krystal.

The song ended to wild applause before Krystal calmed the crowd. "If y'all will listen for just a minute." She held the microphone and waited. Gradually the audience quieted. "As you know, my good friend Lee McBride is in a little trouble. I want to thank you all for comin' out tonight and puttin' some money in her legal kitty. Lee's a good woman." She said it again with emphasis. "A . . . good . . . woman."

She paused dramatically. Her eyes searched the crowd but didn't linger on anyone. She began talking again and I was amazed at the down-home syntax.

"Life takes some strange twists and turns. I know that for a personal fact. Sometimes we find ourselves in places that, a year before, we would never have dreamed we could stumble into, much less stay in. I know I sure have."

That private revelation sent a wave of applause through the crowd. Obviously, everyone in the bar had been someplace that wasn't a comfortable fit. It also gave me some insight into exactly how good Krystal was at working the crowd. She'd connected with everyone in the room on a personal basis.

"Lee and I go back a long way. All the way to high school.
Where we were good friends!
I only wish she'd called me sooner. I know The Beatles aren't country, but they still had a lot of good things to say, and one of the truest was that you can get by with a little help from your friends." She nodded and her red hair shimmied around her shoulders, catching the lights. "With all of that said, there's only one other thing to say. ..."

The lead guitar did an introduction that was picked up by the rest of the band. Then Krystal began to sing. "Maryanne and Wanda were the best of friends, all through their high school days."

The audience picked up the words to the Dixie Chicks' song that had touched a national nerve. When they got to the part where "Earl had to die," the entire place was shouting out loud.

The only two not singing along were me and the prosecuting attorney.

For
THE ENTIRE hour that Krystal performed, she never let the audience settle down. She gave a show that was one of the best live performances I'd ever seen. It gave me plenty of opportunity to seek out the other DGs.

I wasn't too surprised to find that Mary Louise was the only one in attendance. She looked more than a little out of place in her spit-polished paddock boots, jeans with a crease, and diamond Rolex, but she was trying. In fact, she was on the dance floor in the tight embrace of a local when I found her. When the song was over, I made my move.

"Mary Louise," I said sweetly as I went up to her. "It's been years."

"Sarah Booth." She smiled, but it didn't hide the worry in her eyes. "You haven't changed a bit."

It was a lie, but a nice one. "Can we talk outside for a moment?"

"Sure." She led the way into the relative quiet of the parking lot. My ears were still ringing, and I could feel the bass throbbing in my bones.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Bud Lynch." I had decided on a frontal assault. It was the one method of attack a Daddy's Girl would never use.

"Oh." She didn't look away. "Bud Lynch." She gave a half laugh. "How'd you hear about that?"

"Carol Beth has been very, very busy," I said.

Mary Louise shrugged a shoulder. "Hell, she wants everything at Swift Level, including Bud. Susannah and Elizabeth and I were mostly having fun, driving Carol Beth crazy. We'd just sit around and talk about Bud so she could overhear." She shrugged again. "In case you haven't kept up, my track record with men hasn't been so great. Why are you so interested in Bud?"

"Because of Kemper's murder."

She looked at me hard. "You think Bud murdered Kemper?"

By her tone I could tell
she
didn't believe it. "Maybe. That's what I'm trying to find out."

"Lee confessed," she pointed out. If she wasn't truly puzzled, she was a damn good actress.

"She's lying," I countered.

Her eyebrows rose in sudden understanding. "To protect someone. Lee would do something like that." She thought a moment. "But I don't think it's Bud. She knew him for what he was, a terrific trainer and good in the sack. But he's what my therapist would term emotionally unavailable. Lee always wanted more than that. She wanted a partner. What a crock of happy horseshit."

Mary Louise had developed a salty tongue and a pragmatic attitude about life. She also had some insight into Lee that I didn't. "If Bud is emotionally unavailable, what would your therapist term Kemper?"

"Earl." She smiled, but it was sad. "See, we all knew Kemper was knocking her around, but Lee wouldn't let anyone help her. She wouldn't talk. She'd just show up in the barn with another black eye, another cast. Hell, if I said anything she got all pissy. Even Bud gave up trying to talk to her."

"It's hard for me to picture Lee taking that kind of abuse."

Mary Louise rolled her eyes. "The worst was that poor kid. She was caught between it. If she didn't win a class, Kemper took it out on Lee or one of the horses. I'll tell you, that bastard Kemper should have been strung up. Getting stomped to a pulp was too easy for him. And the fact that it was Avenger sure is sweet revenge. He hated that horse. Kemper knew Avenger's value, so he couldn't really hurt him, but he didn't spare the riding crop. Not on the horse or on Lee."

"A jury is going to want to know why she didn't simply divorce him."

Mary Louise belted back her drink. "You've never been married, Sarah Booth. Once you say those magic words of bondage, you open the door to suffering. If it's not physical abuse, it's emotional. Derk never hit me. That would have been too clean and simple. No, he liked to tell me how inept I was ... in bed, in the kitchen, at parties, in business, in providing for his many needs. Lucky for me he found an eighteen-year-old who could take the pressure off me."

That was a whole minefield of emotion I knew I couldn't step into without setting off a dozen bombs. "Would you testify in Lee's behalf? About the beatings."

"Sure."

I had to make certain of one other thing. "What if your relationship with Bud comes up in court?" I kept going. "It occurred to me that perhaps Kemper was blackmailing you and the other women because of Bud. Was he?"

"Blackmailing me? No. Like I said, Bud is one in a long line. It won't hurt my feelings to have it pointed out in a court of law that I'm an idiot with piss-poor taste in men. As for Susannah and Lizzie, I don't think they'll testify. They're still pretending that they have a marriage." The ice tinkled in her empty glass.

"Is it possible Kemper was blackmailing them?"

She shook her head. "They would have told me if he tried."

"What about Carol Beth?"

She laughed out loud, and this time with a bit of humor. "Now, I'd pay a lot of money to hear what Carol Beth would have to say about her relationship with Bud. I hear she signed a prenup with Benny. Adultery is grounds for walking off without a dime." She mimed concern. "Carol Beth can't afford to admit to bedding down with Bud. She'd quicker own up to murder."

"Thanks, Mary Louise. I'll be in touch."

I mentally scratched Mary Louise off my list of suspects. She was many things, but she wasn't a candidate for blackmail, so she no longer had a motive to kill Kemper. More shocking was the fact that she'd voluntarily left the tribe of Daddy's Girls. Somewhere along the road of life, she'd grown up and turned into a woman I would probably like to know a lot better.

She went back inside the bar, and I stood outside in the parking lot, glad to have some fresh air and reassured that my ears might eventually readjust to normal.

I was almost ready to go back in when the door opened and a tall man whose walk I recognized came out into the starry night. He came straight toward me.

"Good evening, Coleman," I said, glad to see him. Leavening the gladness was an image of him sitting on the floor in front of a fire with Lee.

"Sarah Booth, it's a relief to be out here."

"Have you found anything new about Kemper's murder?"

"I've been meaning to talk to you," he said, leaning against the side of a car. "I talked with the prosecutor.
I
know Lee's protecting someone, and
you
know she's protecting someone. Lincoln Bangs thinks she's protecting her accomplice."

"What?"

Coleman shrugged. "She's been in jail for nearly a week, Sarah Booth. She's sticking by that damn confession, even when she knows I know she's lying."

I stood up straight. "Does Linc know who she's protecting?"

"He thinks it's Bud Lynch."

I tried not to show my relief. "Does Bud know he's the latest suspect? He seemed pretty carefree all evening."

"Not yet, and don't tell him. Lee has raw emotion behind her. You saw the crowd tonight, all of that 'Earl had to die' stuff. Linc's decided to go for the other end of that emotion--greed. If he can portray Lee as a greedy woman, then he can counteract the victim emotion."

Coleman had it figured out pretty well.

"What can I do?"

He sighed. "Keep working for her. Keep talking to her. She's afraid, and too proud to show it." He swallowed. "She won't even talk to me now."

I wanted to point out to him that it wasn't so surprising that she wasn't in a humor to confide in him; he'd locked her up for murder. I kept my mouth shut. There was no point rubbing salt in a wound.

"How are you, Coleman?"

"Me?" He sounded surprised. "Tired of all of it." He put a warm hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I know Lee is innocent, and I may end up being a big liability to her."

He was referring to his relationship with Lee. He was right; it could be trouble for both of them.

"I'll keep an ear to the ground," I told him.

His hand moved around my shoulders and pulled me to him for a gentle hug. I smelled whiskey on his breath as he leaned down and whispered, "Thanks, Sarah Booth." He straightened up. "Let's go back inside and dance. I have a proposal for you."

A dance and a proposal. Coleman was definitely up to something. He spoke to the bouncer at the door as he pulled it open for me. Once inside, a path parted for us to enter the dance floor.

"I haven't danced with anyone but Connie for ten years," he said as he tentatively put a hand on my back. "Hang on."

And I did, surprised to discover that Coleman was better than fair on the dance floor. The fact that we'd both been drinking helped ease us past the initial awkwardness of body touching body. In a few steps we were moving easily together. I closed my eyes and let Coleman waltz me around to the old Hank Williams number the house band was playing.

"Sarah Booth, will you be my date to the Chesterfield Hunt Ball?"

The question came out of left field. "What about Connie?" The question was out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

"She's not in the mood for a date. She's filing for divorce. Besides, this is work-related. For both of us."

Strange how flat that made me feel. "Sounds like a plan," I said breezily, though my blood pressure had skyrocketed. "I accept."

His hand tightened on the small of my back, bringing me into slightly closer contact. "I like your style," he said, and to my surprise he kissed my temple, a soft, gentle kiss.

A
fter
Coleman's strange
behavior, the rest of the night was anticlimactic. I made it home by three, danced out and fueled up by the attention of my close personal friend, Jack Daniel's. Krystal had done another set, equally as good as the first. She was a bona fide
Nashville
singer and had all the makings of a star. I had no doubt she'd one day be at the Grammys with a trophy in each hand. My advice would be for her to dump her husband first. He was nothing but deadweight.