The Achilles Heel (14 page)

“Listen, I’m going to say this once and then we drop it. I’m happy right now, but
I won’t live out here forever. Music is my life and that will never change. I’m just
ready to do things on my terms, and if that means going to court and gearing up for
a fight, then so be it. You can report back to Hope and Mama D that I’m open to another
relationship, but certainly not gonna call out a search party to find her. I ran after
the last girl and really thought she was worth the chase, but she turned out to be
a self-seeking bitch that became obsessed with everything I’m trying to get away from;
the money poisoned her,” I recalled. “No running this time, I’m gonna just let it
happen. All right?”

“Good enough for me. I’ll help you in any way I can,” he offered.

“Okay then, let’s get another round of drinks for us and a couple for the pigs out
back,” I said with a smile.

Patty and Gus are kept in a pen across from the restaurant during business hours,
and after a long day’s work of beer drinking, they’re let out to roam free or pass
out (depending on the work load at the office that day) in an enclosed pasture. We
walked out to the pig pen and they were both on the fence; big, black heads stretched
way out and ready for a brew. One must follow a specific set of instructions when
giving one of the pigs a beer; they don’t know they’re novelties and will crush your
hand along with the beer can if you don’t follow directions. Wade placed the unopened
beer can (it’s actually O’Doul’s, rehab must have been a necessity) vertically in
Gus’s mouth and the second it hit his lips‌—‌
pow
, that pig bit down hard, smashing the can and sending a spray of foam all over Wade.
He tipped his head back, as we all do when chugging a beer, but left some of it to
run down his thick, hairy neck. When the can was empty, the pig chucked it ten feet
to the side, and we watched it roll a few times before landing on the ground. Gus
was showing his experience or maybe just showing off, it was hard to tell. I thought
Wade was gonna split his pants; he was doubled over laughing like a lunatic. Since
there was a crowd of people waiting to feed the pigs, we bowed out and went back inside
where our burgers were waiting.

“Well, I feel like I’ve just about seen it all and can now die a happy man. Hey, maybe
I’ll retire too, and bring this little act back to Nashville; we’ve got the space!”
Wade cheered.

“Before you get too deep into a new business venture with farm animals, you might
want to run it by your wife first,” I replied.

We talked while we ate, mostly about football and Wade’s delusions of getting Hank
Williams Jr. on the ballet for presidency, but we’ve both been working on some songs
and wanted each other’s opinion on what‌—‌if anything‌—‌was missing.

“Damn, that was one hell of a burger! What’s next on the list?” he asked.

“I know how much you like to let it ride, so let’s go check out the casino. It’s back
on the East end of the island and a little closer to home in case you get yourself
into any trouble,” I said.

We ordered two more Mama-Wanna’s for the road, paid our tab and found our way back
to the highway. I knew Wade would have fun with the pigs at the Domino Club, but taking
Wade to a casino was a whole new level on the trouble scale. Wade takes gambling (at
least the winning part) very serious and could be an honest to God professional if
he wanted, but he doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to mixing alcohol,
slow dealers, and amateur gamblers. We finished our drinks in the Jeep, but as soon
as we heard the ping-ping of the slots and saw the twinkling mini-lights outside the
casino, I lost Wade. He’s like Pavlov’s dog salivating at the sound of a bell, knowing
when he hears the jangle of the machines, he’s going to get fed. The ping of a slot
and the twinkle of a light can put Wade in a trance of aggressive pleasure, where
his only focus is winning.

The Divi Carina Bay Beach Resort and Casino is small as far as casino’s go, but it
fits perfectly on the East end of the island where competition for the tourist dollar
is minimal and the casino can really shine‌—‌moths to a flame. It’s nestled into a
semi-circular crook in the bay, with million dollar views from every table. Blackjack
was usually our game, but Wade put a hundred dollar bill into the first slot he walked
past and bing-bing-bing went the alarm, accompanied by six or seven flashing red lights.

“No way did you win already,” I said, astonished as the coins kept shooting out of
the mouth of the machine.

Wade just stood there, quiet, with a big smile on his face, but I saw the twinkle
in his eye and knew we might be here the rest of the night; which meant we were gonna
get a talking to from Hope in the morning.

He collected his winnings in a plastic bucket, turned to me and said, “Now, it’s on.”

Cocktail waitresses came at us from every direction, like linemen advancing on a quarterback,
and because their hands were full of drinks, our hands were full, too. We sat at the
blackjack table with a hundred dollar minimum bet, and I watched my chips disappear
faster than my drinks. Wade had an entirely different experience. Seemed as though
the faster he drank, the more he won; his chips just kept piling up in front of him.
The pit boss took notice, came over to introduce himself, and offered us a free room
and buffet if we decided to spend the night.

He was a severely tan fellow with a gut that might of housed too many free buffets
and his slicked back hair, packed with gel, looked like those Lego pieces that are
interchangeable. He was very professional though; he recognized us but didn’t draw
any attention our way, and I was grateful to him for using discretion.

The gambling had stretched on for five hours. Wade was up about twenty grand and I
was out of chips; I couldn’t sit at the table any longer, my mind and my ass were
starting to go numb, so I wandered onto the veranda for some fresh air. Outside, a
young guy picked the guitar and took requests. Someone asked for one of my songs;
I froze and felt like everyone on the patio was suddenly staring at me, but when no
one paid any actual attention, my muscles relaxed. The kid butchered my song‌—‌it
was hard to listen‌—‌but I didn’t feel like giving a guitar lesson, and the fact that
someone took the time to learn it makes any musician feel grateful. St. Croix is a
place where I blend in and am just Kess, not Kessler Carlisle the country music singer;
so far, the only one to recognize me was the pit boss inside.

I’d probably left Wade alone long enough; it doesn’t take much time for him to get
into some kind of trouble, and at this point, he’d been drinking for around eight
hours. As I walked back to the table, I saw him standing up pointing his finger at
a new dealer, another young guy, and Wade was really letting him have it.

The pit boss arrived at the table about the same time I did, and as Wade turned to
express his grievances about the new dealer, hair gel said, “Sir, your time here tonight
is done. I can exchange your chips at the counter for you, but you’re too drunk to
stay in the casino.”

“How do you know if I’m drunk?” Wade asked, with terribly slurred speech and little
flecks of spit landing on the Lego man. Wade is a close talking drunk which is
so
unfortunate for the face that ends up in his line of fire.

The pit boss raised his eyebrows and discretely pointed to Wade’s crotch. Wade and
I both looked down, and it was apparent to both of us that Wade had pissed his pants.

“Jesus, dude. Let’s go,” I whispered into his ear, but he thought it was incredibly
funny and couldn’t stop laughing. He was on the verge of making a scene; the two of
us in that casino‌—‌with piss all over Wade’s pants‌—‌was the last image I wanted
to see on E! News tomorrow.

The pit boss came back with a check for seven thousand dollars, which means that during
my time on the patio, Wade had lost around thirteen thousand dollars. He was still
laughing when we got into the cab, but as soon as we pulled into my driveway, he turned
to me and asked in a very sober voice, “You’re not gonna tell Hope, right?”

“No, you big baby, I’m not going to tell on you. Get your wet ass out of the car,
you’re starting to stink,” I said, pushing him out of the door and paying the cabby.

Lying in bed that night, a gush of laughter came over me, thinking about Wade’s wet
pants. Over the years, I thought I’d seen his best work, but tonight he really upped
his game. I wouldn’t need to tell Hope about it tomorrow; he loves that woman so much,
he always comes clean in the morning.

ANNIE

F
or the last few weeks, every morning was the same ritual; wake up, walk into my office,
open the fireproof filing cabinet, and go through the contents from the lockbox downstairs.
I’ve looked at the pictures of the pier a thousand times; burning them into my mind
to make sure that when jumping into the balmy waters of the Caribbean, I knew exactly
where to dig.

Today was my last chance to finalize the preparations for my trip, and normally, I’m
way behind schedule when it comes to leaving town; running around like a mad woman
trying to get the last of my errands done. The only thing left for me to do was to
retrieve my car from The Majestic parking lot and pack my toiletries bag.

Not too shabby old girl. Annie gets a gold star today.

I took my findings outside on the screened-in-porch to go over them again, checking
the dates on the Life Insurance policies‌—‌three months before Jack died; the same
week he made me the beneficiary of the business and also the same week he insisted
I start carrying pepper spray in my purse. The chance of Jack dying in freak car accident
became less and less a possibility I was willing to consider. All signs pointed to
suicide, and I needed to find out why.

Wrapping a cardigan around myself, a breeze blew through the screen and gave me a
chill as I lit up a smoke. I heard the lock on the gate unlatch and saw the door start
to open, but get caught on a large chunk of unmown grass. A hundred scenarios had
played out in my head regarding how to handle myself if attacked, and today, when
it quite possibly could be happening this very moment, I just sat there, cigarette
in hand and petrified with fear. The gate creaked loudly as it slowly opened.

Move damn it! Get inside! What the hell are you doing?

A slender frame with long blond hair carefully stepped over the grass and into the
backyard. Liz silently closed the gate and looked around the yard as she walked up
to the patio.

I waited until she stood adjacent to the porch and my fear had trickled down into
relief before I called out, “Elizabeth!”

“Oh!” she gasped, jumping back and clenching her chest. “Annie, I didn’t see you sitting
there!”

“Why are you coming through my back yard? Can I help you with something?” I asked
with a snarky tone.

“I knocked on the front door, but no one answered. I’d like to talk with you. May
I come in?” she asked softly, bowing her head and clasping her hands behind her back.

“Okay, have a seat,” I responded, feeling a bit leery but extending my hand to an
empty chair.

It was obvious she was extremely uncomfortable. She kept tucking her hair behind her
ears over and over again saying, “Well, let’s see…”

I waited. And waited.

“I have a confession to make to you,” she finally started. “I’ve been following you
for a few weeks now, and don’t know how good of a job I’ve been doing at staying out
of sight, but my conscience is weighing pretty heavy on me these days. I just really
needed to explain, in case you’ve noticed me.”

“Jesus Christ, Liz, that’s you? You had me scared out of my mind and a nervous wreck.
My friend Gail saw you in the parking lot at The Majestic last night. What the hell
were you doing out there in the rain?” I demanded.

“I know, I know. I figured you had seen me a while ago and you’d already written me
off, so you didn’t care why I was following you,” she protested.

“Excuse me, but I remember you distinctly telling me to stay out of your family business
unless it had to do with Max or Mia, and that is exactly what I have done,” I stated
emphatically.

She started to cry. “I know I said those things to you, and I’m so sorry I did. I
thought you and Jamie were having an affair, and wanted to find out for myself, so
I started following both of you,” she admitted, as she took a tissue out of her purse
and dabbed at her eyes.

I almost fell out of my chair. “Why on God’s green earth would you think we were fooling
around? We don’t even talk anymore,” I said in disbelief.

“After Jamie got arrested at that lawyer’s office, something changed in him. He stopped
spending time with me and the kids, he talked about either you or Jack incessantly,
and then he started getting these mysterious late night calls on his cell phone. The
first couple came when we were going to bed. He told me they were work calls, but
after a while I knew he was lying. I think he was afraid I might be on to him if they
kept happening around me, so he started sleeping on the couch; although neither one
of us was actually sleeping. His phone buzzed at all hours of the night. I sat in
the hallway at the top of the stairs, straining to hear who he was taking to and what
they were talking about. I’m sorry I treated you so badly. When you needed family
the most, we all just deserted you. We were consumed with ourselves. I now know that
you and Jamie never had an affair and I’m so ashamed to have ever considered the option.
I guess I just needed a reason for his erratic behavior change and resorted to making
one up in my mind,” she said.

“Thank you, Liz. I know it was hard for you to open up to me, and you are completely
forgiven. As far as Jamie goes, no, we absolutely are not having an affair, but I
certainly understand your need for answers.”
More than you could ever know.
“Are you done following me?” I asked with a smile.