The Middle Finger of Fate (A Trailer Park Princess Cozy Mystery Book 1) by Kim Hunt Harris - HTML preview

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

When I came to, everything was bizarrely quiet. For a moment I wondered if I was dead, if we all were dead, because it was so quiet. I felt the metal of the car hood under my cheek, and heard the ping and pop of the motor.

That, coupled with the sudden realization of intense pain in my head and my right leg, made me think I wasn’t dead. I didn’t know about everyone else, though. I thought if I could get my head up I could check.

I looked around me, but saw only the side of the hill where we’d landed. But my leg was stuck. I tried to slide down the hood to the ground, but I didn’t get anywhere. I realized my jeans were stuck on the broken windshield. I tugged frantically at my legs and finally, by some miracle, I was able to get the fabric ripped off. I felt something warm on my cheek and smelled blood. I reached up and felt a big gash across my forehead and up over my scalp. My hand came away soaked in blood.

That freaked me out. I let out a strangled cry and tumbled off the hood of the car into the grass. I heard a whimpering sound, and this time it wasn’t me.

Stump! I bolted up and looked around. “Stump? Where are you?”

I couldn’t see her. I heard sirens now, and saw something moving through the grass. Too big to be Viv, and definitely too big to be Stump.

I couldn’t see Stump anywhere. It was too dark, and my eyes weren’t working so good at the moment. I clamped my hand over my head and cried like I had when I was a kid and fell off my bike. I sounded like an idiot. I didn’t care.

“Stump! Viv! Where are you? Are you okay? Oh God, please help us!”

The figure moving through the grass stopped. It was Ricky, I realized when he was reflected in passing headlights. He bent over, looking at something in the grass. He threw a look back at me, then straightened again and took off running.

Let him go. To heck with him. He and Thomas and Rey could all run. I would find some way to convince Bobby they were guilty. I stumbled along the ground, calling for Stump.

The sirens grew louder, and I saw flashing lights on the other side of the interstate. I couldn’t hear anymore whimpering from Stump, and that scared me. I also didn’t hear anything from Viv, and that scared me too. I’m not going on record as to which one scared me more.

“Stump! Viv! Talk to me. Where are you? Are you okay?” I crawled to the back of the car, one hand still clamped against my scalp while blood leaked and ran down the side of my face, exhaustion weighing down on me. “Stump!”

Ricky stopped and looked back at me. Then he turned, walked back a step and picked up whatever he’d been looking at in the grass.

It was Stump. She lay still in Rick’s arms as he carried her up the hill. I was still crying, and I cried even harder when he put her in my arms. She was alive, but she lay too still for my taste. I kissed her and prayed as hard as I ever had that she’d be okay.

The sirens chewed up the silence in the air and flashing lights strobed around us. The siren cut off abruptly, but the night spun with the flashing lights and people jumped from the ambulance and raced toward us.

“Back here!” Rick cried. “She’s bleeding! She needs an ambulance.”

“Where’s Viv?” I asked Rick, but he was gone around to the other side of the car.

“In here, too,” I heard him say. “She’s unconscious.”

“I’m not unconscious,” Viv groused faintly. “I’ve been in an accident. I have a right to sit and rest my eyes for a second without everyone getting all up in arms about it. Just get that – get that light out of my face if you don’t mind.” Her tone stated plainly she didn’t care if he minded or not. “I am fine. I just need to catch my breath.”

“That’s good news, ma’am,” said a new male voice. “All the same, I think I’ll let the EMTs take you in and have the doctors look at you. Just lie back now. They’ll be here in a second.”

“Well, okay,” Viv said. She sounded weak, wobbly. She was giving up without much of a fight. Not a good sign.

The cop came around and knelt in the grass beside me. “Hang on, ma’am, the paramedics are on their way. Want to tell me what happened? Who was driving this car?”

“Rey Ramirez.”

He motioned to Rick. “Him?” He lifted my hand off my leg and swore. “I need a gurney over here!”

“No, that’s Ricky. He wasn’t driving, he was kidnapped like we were. Rey ran off, and you need to call for backup to catch him and catch Thomas, too. Thomas is Rey’s cousin. And while you’re at it, call for someone to arrest Sylvia Ramirez. She was last seen at her laundromat on 21st Street. She’s guilty of the murder of Lucinda Cruz and of the attempted murder of me and Viv, and –”

“Why don’t you just lie back and save your breath? We can get a statement at the hospital.”

Then he stood and spoke into the radio handset clipped to his shoulder, “Sloan, I have contact with the party you’ve been looking for, 50th and the Interstate.”

“Bobby’s looking for us?” I asked. Of course he would be by now. How long had it been since Viv and I snuck out? “Some party,” I said with a half-hysterical giggle. “This has been a wild one, even for me.”

When the paramedics came up with the gurney I became more concerned with having everyone’s lives saved than all the stuff with Rey and Sylvia and Bobby. Another ambulance came right after, and I was a little bummed that Viv and I wouldn’t be riding together. But all in all, I had to say I was feeling pretty good that the people in authority were there and we weren’t on our own anymore.

The paramedics pushed Rick out of the way and put something cold against my head. I kept thinking Rick was going to run like Rey and Thomas had, but he hunched by the back of the car looking lost.

“Sir, can you hold the dog?” one of the paramedics barked at Rick. He phrased it as a question, but it really wasn’t. Rick came over and took Stump gingerly from me.

“Thanks,” I said, my throat thick. “Thanks for coming back. That was really nice of you.” I remembered why I hadn’t wanted to see Ricky Barlow in the first place, when Trisha first suggested we see him. “That makes up for putting me in the bed with Scott Watson at his bachelor party.”

He just stared at me for a second, as if trying to figure out what I was talking about. “Oh yeah, I’d forgotten about that.” He rubbed his face with one hand, making the front of his hair stand up. “That was a long time ago. One of a long list of things I’d prefer to forget.”

“You think you’d like to forget it? I slept with my best friend’s fiancé on the eve of their wedding. Not exactly my proudest moment.”

“Yeah, but it’s not as if anything happened.”

It was my turn to stare. “What?”

“Please be still, ma’am,” the paramedic said. He pushed me gently but firmly down onto the gurney. “Don’t move a muscle.” He ran back up the hill toward the ambulance.

“Nothing happened,” Ricky said. “Scott passed out and you did, too, if I remember right.”

“What are you talking about?” I completely violated my orders and moved several muscles at once.

“Scott passed out. Come on, are you telling me all this time you thought you two actually had sex?”

“All this time since last week, when Patrice brought the memory back into focus. I’d blocked it out up to that point.”

“Yeah, she was pretty mad about that. I guess I should have told her what actually went down. Scott passed out and you just giggled and got into the bed with him. Then you passed out, too. Believe me, neither one of you were in any shape to do anything that night.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Part of me wanted to strangle him. Another part wanted to kiss him.

I felt like someone who’d just been buzzed by a 747. What a heck of a near miss.

The EMT came back then and got really mad at me. Two of them lifted me onto the gurney and I only worried a little bit about how fat they must have been thinking I was. Then a face appeared beyond them, looking absolutely furious and frantic all at once.

“I’m sorry, Bobby.” I tried to sit up and the EMT shoved me back down. “We just wanted to talk to Ricky and so we snuck out and then we almost got killed and I’m sorry we didn’t say anything –”

“Would you just shut up?” He did the old mumble-mumble thing with the EMT as they rolled me to the ambulance. While he talked he looked back at the pickle-mobile.

I got a good look at it, too, as they loaded me into the ambulance. Most of the glass in the windshield was gone. Blood smeared over what little was there, and across the hood. “Yuck,” I said. “Is that mine?”

They didn’t answer, just gave each other a funny look as the EMTs locked the gurney down. That look had me wondering just how messed up I was. Blood was still dripping down my face.

“Can you make sure Stump gets taken care of?” I asked Bobby. “That idiot Thomas kicked her again and then she was thrown from the car when we crashed. Make sure she’s okay.”

“Sure, no problem. Lie down and quit talking. You need to rest.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I just wanted you to know that I was right about Rick. He was connected to Lucinda’s murder.”

“Okay, Salem, whatever.”

“I’m serious. He’s connected because Sylvia was blackmailing him. But he tried to help us, Bobby. Give him a break because he was working with me to get us away from Rey when we went off the road. He’s not the bad guy here.”

“If you don’t stop talking this second I’m going to put you under arrest.” He put a hand on my shoulder, and I shut up. He was worried about me. Frantically worried, from the way his hair stood on end and his brow furrowed. I wanted to tell him I was fine, but the truth was, I wasn’t so sure about that. I felt lightheaded and woozy; between the several blows to the head I’d received and the alcohol, I knew that my head should hurt like crazy. But it didn’t, not really. It made me wonder just how much more blood I could lose.

I finally understood why people become hypochondriacs. There’s a definite payoff in people being worried about you.

The next few hours were taken up with medical stuff – x-rays and forms and stitches (ouch, by the way). One of the ER nurses was a regular Bow Wow Barbers customer, so I talked her into checking on Viv for me. She was going to be okay, was all I could discern. I decided, for the moment, that was good enough.

I woke in my hospital room with Les and Bobby on either side of my bed. Judging by their carefully guarded expressions, I didn’t look so hot.  

I wanted to ask about Stump first, but for decorum’s sake I asked, “How’s Viv?”

“Ornerier than ever,” Bobby said. “Giving the nurses a hard time and demanding a bigger room.”

“Was she hurt?”

“Oh, sure. Sixteen stitches in her head, broken collarbone and broken arm. Couple of cracked ribs. Otherwise she’s in good shape.”

“What about Stump?” I’d held off as long as I could.

“Vet said her injury from the other night was aggravated and he wanted to keep her in the hospital for a few days. But he said she would be okay if she could stay out of the exciting crime-fighting life for a few days.”

My throat closed up, and my eyes burned. I didn’t know what I’d do without Stump. “I assume, since you’re here, you caught Rey and Thomas.”

Bobby nodded. “Rey was hiding in a dumpster a couple of alleys from the accident. Thomas showed up at the emergency room with a broken elbow and a story about falling off his roof.”

“Falling off his roof? In the middle of the night?”

“He said it had happened earlier in the day, but he couldn’t stand the pain any longer so he came on in.”

“What a tool.”

“It took him all of fifteen seconds to start talking once we got him away from Sylvia.”

“Did he tell you he was the one to break into my house?”

Bobby nodded. “He said Sylvia made him do it. Had a whole tale about domineering matriarchs and familial obligation.”

“He was more than a willing participant,” I said. That all reminded me of Rick, though. “Did he say how Rick fit in all this?”

“No, Rick took care of that himself.” He cocked his head toward my forehead. “How does that feel?”

I gingerly felt the bandages that covered my head. “It doesn’t feel at all. I must be on some pretty good drugs.” I cast a glance at Les. I wondered if he’d heard about my blood alcohol level.

“Don’t worry; it’s going to hurt plenty later on.” Bobby sat in the chair at the side of my bed. “You were dead on, Salem. Rick was the key to the whole thing.”

“I knew it.” I didn’t know if the smugness I felt was coming through all my stitches and bandages, but I did my best. “How?”

“He doctored a sales sheet for Rey to use as his alibi. Rey sells bottled water to businesses, and the All American Storage branch in Oklahoma City just happened to set up a new contract with Rey that day. Turns out Rick signed an invoice for the manager there, and he used their store number and dated it for the day before, so Rey could turn that in to his boss. So Rey’s boss had the paperwork to say he’d made a sale that day. The boss didn’t know the difference, and the store manager backed it up because he just thought he was helping Rey get a bonus for meeting his quota that day. He didn’t know Rey from Adam and didn’t see any reason not to help him out as long as it didn’t cost him anything. But after you kept insisting, I had the OKC cops take another look at his alibi. When I found out it was an All American sale and Rick worked for All American here, I knew you had something.” He reached over and squeezed my knee. “Maybe you do have an instinct for this kind of work.”

“Maybe. I think from now on I’m going to stick with grooming dogs, though. I don’t really like being tied up. Or hit in the head. Or beaten up. And I really don’t like to have my dog kicked.” I looked at Les. “I’m really sorry about your pi – your car.”

Les, being Les, smiled and shrugged. “I’m glad it helped you get away.”

“Yeah, sure, um…how exactly did it do that?”

“Viv told me that she was able to knock that guy out of the driver’s seat and force him off the road. She wouldn’t have been able to do that with a regular old car with a regular old driver’s seat.”

“I guess you have a point there.” I waited for him to go on about how God had made sure I had that car so things could go down just as they did, but I guessed that was a stretch even for Les. “I’m sorry I was the one to finally put her down for good.”

“Oh, she’s not down for good. Randy’s banging out the dents right now, seeing if he can get her back on the road. She’ll be ready for you when you’re able to drive again, if you need her.”

“Oh good,” I said. After everything that had happened, I should be grateful I was going to be driving anything.

“He found a bunch of stuff that he thought might be yours when he went to get the car. Pictures and papers and stuff.” He pointed to a box by the door. “He put it in there.”

I’d forgotten about that stuff. I guess it went all over the hill when we crashed.

Tony came in then. His eyes were red, and I don’t think I’d ever seen him look so horrible. He was at my side in a heartbeat. “Salem! You’re okay?” He reached for my hand, then pulled back. “I – where can I touch you that won’t hurt?”

“I’m not sure right now. Ask again when the drugs wear off.” I took his hand and squeezed it. “I’m fine, Tony. Are you okay?”

He shook his head. “It’s – it’s a shock.”

I squeezed his hand again. Probably the relief of having charges dropped was dampened by knowing his own aunt and cousin had set him up on those charges to begin with. “Has Sylvia been arrested?”

Bobby nodded. “She’s in custody now.” He cast a glance at Tony and at Les. “We’ll talk more about it later.”

I turned to Tony. “Remember Trisha Thompson? From school?”

“Of course.”

“She goes by Patrice Watson now, and she’s on the Channel 11 news.”

“Ummm, yeah, I watch the news, Salem.”

“Oh, well, of course you do. Can you give her an exclusive interview? She kind of helped me find the clue that broke the thing wide open.” I glanced up at Bobby. “Solved the case. Before the police did.”

I yawned, and they all three said they’d better let me get my rest. I held tight to Tony’s hand for a second longer. “I’m sorry about sneaking out. Obviously I didn’t think it was going to turn into a life-or-death situation.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said. His eyes told me, though, that he hadn’t been at all surprised I’d snuck out; he’d expected me to do just that.

“Can I talk to Bobby for a second?” I asked.

“Let me pray for you first,” Les said. He put a big warm hand on the back of my head and thanked God for saving me and Viv, and for making sure the guilty people were caught. He also asked that Sylvia, Rey and Thomas receive conviction from the Holy Spirit and repent so they could be forgiven and be reconciled. Personally, I just wanted them convicted by a court of law and to rot in jail for a couple of decades, but Les had a bigger heart than I did. Forgiveness was a lot easier for me in theory than it was in reality.

Tony and Les left with a promise of a visit later, and Bobby returned to his seat. “What’s going to happen to them?” I asked.

“They’ll be charged with murder, attempted murder, blackmail, and tampering with evidence. Anything I can convince the DA to pursue.”

“What about Rick?”

“I’m not allowed to discuss Rick.”

I gave him a dark look. “But you can tell me he’s going to be okay, because whatever he did in this case he did because Sylvia was blackmailing him. You can tell me that since he’s going to testify against Sylvia and Rey and since he worked so hard to help us get free from Rey and Thomas, he’s going to get a very light sentence. You can tell me that much, right?”

Bobby just shook his head and tried unsuccessfully to hide a grin. “You remind me of this bulldog I used to have.”

“Come on, Bobby, you have to give him a break. Stump might have died if it weren’t for him. Heck, I might have died if it weren’t for him.”

“Plea bargains are not entirely up to me, you know. The DA and the judge do have some say in matters. Although I am flattered you seem to think I control the entire justice system.”

“Bobby, please –”

“He’s going to be okay, Salem. He’s not going to get off completely, but he’s going to be okay, if he does what he says he’ll do.”

I remembered the best gift Rick had given me – after possibly saving my life – and knew right away I had to call Trisha. “By the way, how much am I allowed to discuss of all this?”

“Not a word.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re allowed to discuss anything and everything with me and me alone. No one else hears a word.”

“Not even my best friend?”

“Who’s your best friend?”

“Patrice Watson.” Although she did hate me.

“Then especially not your best friend.”

“If she guesses can I confirm it?”

Bobby sighed. “Am I going to have to get a restraining order?”

“Can you do that?”

He raised an eyebrow that said, “Just try me.”

He left not long after, and I checked the clock. It was early; Trisha probably hadn’t gone to work yet. I looked up their number in the phone book and, dialing with one hand, I waited for her to pick up the phone.

She didn’t. Scott did. I panicked and started to hang up, but caught myself before I placed the receiver down. “Ummm…Scott?”

“Yes?”

I figured this was his business, too, so I might as well tell them both at the same time. “This is Salem. I need to talk to Trisha – I mean, Patrice – but it concerns you, too. So is there another line she can get on?”

He was quiet for a long time. “Look, why don’t you tell me first and I’ll tell her whatever it is you think you need to say.”

What a guy. He wanted to protect his wife. Not exactly flattering that he wanted to protect her from me, but still…no wonder Trisha loved him so much.

“Okay. Here’s the thing. You remember Ricky Barlow?” And the time he stuck us in bed together?

“Yes, I remember Rick.”

I could tell in half a second he was going to slam the phone down.

“This is good news, Scott, I promise. I talked to Rick last night, and he told me something I didn’t know. Um, you remember that night, um, when you and I, um –”

“What is it, Salem?” Funny how you can hear things like a clenched jaw and a narrow stare over the phone.

“Well, the point is, we didn’t. What you thought we did, and what Trisha thought and we did, and what I thought we did…we didn’t.”

He was really quiet. Deathly quiet. Then he said, “What?”

“Rick told me that night you passed out and I passed out and they just left us in bed together as a prank. It was all a joke.”

“A joke?”

“I know, I know. Some joke. But I’ve been feeling really horrible about betraying my friend – and it’s not as if I’m now totally proud of my behavior – but at least I’m relieved that we didn’t really –”

“We didn’t?”

“Didn’t. Totally didn’t.”

The phone clattered and Scott screamed, “Trisha!”

So he called her that, too.

I couldn’t make out any words. I heard Scott’s voice, then Trisha’s, then both of them at once, babbling, high-pitched. Then Trisha shrieking and Scott shouting and I freaked out for a moment till I realized they were overjoyed, rejoicing in the news. I could almost see them holding each others’ arms, jumping around in a circle, knocking over tables and lamps in their celebration. Kind of a like a very bizarre lottery win. Congratulations! You did not have sex with Salem Grimes!

I’d never had anyone be so thrilled to not have sex with me, and I could have been kind of offended except I knew exactly how they felt. A ton of guilt and regret was totally erased, wiped clean.

They kept up their noisy party and I finally left them to it, settled the phone back on the cradle, sighed, and snuggled down in the surprisingly comfortable hospital pillow.

I was amazed at how light I felt, thinking about Scott and Trish. According to Les, this is what repentance and forgiveness of sin was always supposed to feel like. Like you’d been completely cleansed from any wrongdoing, like you’d never screwed up or hurt anyone in your life.

But it hadn’t happened that way, at least not for me. I had repented for sleeping with Scott, but I’d still felt plenty guilty. It wasn’t until reality told me it hadn’t happened in the first place that I felt this release.

I burrowed deeper in the pillow and wondered for the hundredth time in the past week what I was doing wrong with my faith. In so many areas, what Les and the church kept promising me just wasn’t happening.

I was going to pray about it, I really was. But instead the meds kicked in and I fell asleep.

Trisha was there when I woke up. Her eyes were red, and she stood looking out the window by my bed, unaware that I was awake. I remembered a time when we were in junior high and Mr. Blackwell, the football coach who doubled as our world geography teacher, yelled at her for turning in her research paper on the Galapagos Islands a day late. He’d scared her so bad she’d cried then, too, and tried to cover it up by saying the blowing dust was bothering her allergies.

“I told you Tony didn’t do it,” I said. Croaked, actually. I should have cleared my throat before I tried to speak.

I sat up and did so, giving Trish a chance to wipe her eyes and gather her composure.

She shook her head. “You must have an instinct or something,” she said.

“Or something,” I said. “Is the dust blowing outside? I feel my allergies acting up.”

“Me too,” she said. She handed me the box of tissues on the rolling table and sat in the chair by my bed. “So he was innocent after all.”

“That’s right. And he’s agreed to let you interview him first, as a personal favor to me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Sure. If you hadn’t given me the tip about Ricky Barlow, I wouldn’t have cracked the case.” I wrinkled my nose. “How very Nancy Drew of me. Bobby would have figured it out eventually, but it does my pride some good that I was the one to steer him in the right direction.”

“I hope this has taken him down a notch or two. He’s as in love with himself as he ever was. Remember when you had that huge crush on him? Rode by his house on your bike five times a day –”

“Of course I remember. I wrote Salem Sloan on everything I owned.”

“You still have a thing for him, don’t you?”

I shrugged. “I can’t decide. I mean, he’s still hot and there’s just no getting around that.”

“True.”

“I don’t know if I’m just reacting to his good looks, or if a part of me still carries a little torch. Not that it matters. I found out this week that I’m a married woman.”

Trisha’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

I shook my head. “Apparently Tony and I weren’t as divorced as I thought we were.”

“Un-freaking-believable.” She shook her head again. “This would only happen with you, you know, Salem.”

She laughed, and for a second it was just like old times, the two of us giggling and talking about guys.

We got quiet, and she blinked a couple of times. “I have this bizarre urge to thank you for not having slept with Scott.”

“I know. For some reason I want to feel proud of myself, too. As if I have this wealth of new-found virtue I never knew about.” I shifted in the bed and gave her a smile I hoped would tell her everything was okay. “We both keep the bar set pretty low where I’m concerned.”

She dropped her gaze for a second then bit the inside of her lip. “Look, I don’t really know what to say. I feel like I should apologize for doubting you were sincere when you said you were sorry, that you had –”

“You were never the one who needed to apologize,” I said softly but firmly.

“Yeah, well, if you knew all the horrible things I was thinking about you, you might disagree. I wanted you to be wrong. I wanted to see you fail.” She gave a short, humorless laugh and shook her head. “I acted like a complete witch at the restaurant the other night. I’ve been embarrassed about it ever since.”

“Trisha, I’m telling you, you don’t have to apologize. Your actions have been totally understandable.”

“Yes, well…” She sighed and blinked fast. “For the past five years I’ve told myself that I’d forgiven Scott. I saw just how phony that forgiveness was when I realized I didn’t need it anymore.”

I reached over and squeezed her hand. “Don’t beat yourself up for being human, Trish. It’s over. No, it’s better than over; it never happened in the first place. And I think you can safely comfort yourself with the knowledge that you will never have to worry about that issue with Scott.”

She stood and picked up her purse. “I’m glad you’re okay, Salem. And I’m glad you’ve straightened up your act. I wish you all the best. And thanks for getting me the interview with Tony.” She turned and headed for the door, then turned back. “Listen, I wasn’t kidding about having a friends-join-free coupon for Fat Fighters. If you’re interested,” she quirked an eyebrow and flourished a hand along her side. “I could stand to lose a couple pounds.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Let me see how much all these stitches are going to cost and I’ll let you know.”