support and Joyce, who’d recently moved back to the area and taken charge of their three kids, was threatening to turn up the legal heat. And then there was Mary. He knew that Mary wasn’t accustomed, day after day, to running practically on empty. He wanted to fix her up with the kind of lifestyle she deserved.
Darrell wasn’t kidding himself. He knew it was more than just the money. He felt flattered that the big man had singled him out. He felt privileged—and grateful. Sure he’d had his problems with Lloyd, but that was all water under the bridge now. Everybody knew Lloyd was the golden goose. He could make you rich, and he could also do wonders for your self-esteem. To be chosen by Lloyd—it wasn’t just the opportunity of a lifetime; it was a badge of outlaw distinction.
So Lloyd set up shop in the shed behind Darrell’s house and the two of them went to work. Just a couple of weeks into the deal, however, it was starting to look like a serious mistake. Mary certainly thought so: she’d been opposed from the start to Darrell teaming with Lloyd and nothing she’d seen so far had caused her to change her mind. It was partly the drugs, the last thing she wanted Darrell getting involved with, but a lot of it was Lloyd himself. It wasn’t anything in particular he’d said or done but the guy somehow frightened her, unnerved her. He seemed to ooze lascivious menace. The way he looked at her when he came around, like he was staking his claim— Later, baby, later, just wait and see . The guywas obviously bad news. She told Darrell to break it off before he got in any deeper.
Darrell knew he shouldn’t take Mary’s concerns lightly. He’d heard the stories about Lloyd, his penchant for pretty young women, turning them into crank whores so they’d do his bidding. And now he remembered something else, rumors from long ago about Lloyd actually raping two of his own daughters. Like a lot of other people, he’d discounted the rumors at the time. But now Mary—his very own sweet Mary—was claiming to feel threatened by the guy. Chances were it wasn’t just her imagination.
There was something else bothering Darrell, frustrating him no end. It was two weeks into the deal now, and Lloyd still hadn’t given any indication of delivering on his promise. Teaching him the tricks of the trade? Turning him on to the recipe for crank so he could go freelance and start raking in the money himself? Forget about it. Two weeks in and he was still nothing more than a glorified gopher, helping Lloyd out, running errands for him, standing in as the butt of his putdowns. He’d tried bringing the subject up once or twice but Lloyd had just mumbled him off.
“I don’t know if he’s ever going to come through,” Darrell told Mary. “It’s like he just wants to keep the apple in front of my face.”
There were additional tensions also, mostly of the you’d-have-to-be-there variety. Lloyd owned a beautiful Jack Russell terrier that he knew Darrell really liked. He offered the dog to Darrell as a gift but never quite got around to turning it over. It was always, “Not now, maybe later.” Power tripping, Darrell thought, stringing him along, just another way of showing who was boss. Then one night, a week or so before Christmas, Darrell and Mary were awakened by the sounds of someone creeping around outside. They weren’t able to pin it on him for sure, but they both assumed it had to be Lloyd. Lloyd the pervert—skulking about for cheap thrills.
But they kept at it, Darrell and Lloyd, two strong-headed outlaws not accustomed to budging an inch: Darrell stewing over whether he’d ever get his big break; Lloyd probably not caring one way or another.
Part II
CHAPTER FOUR
T HE DAY AFTER Christmas of 1987, Lloyd dropped by Darrell’s house with some meth, a special confection he said he’d cooked up for Darrell as a present. It was strange stuff, pink and gummy, and wickedly acrid. Darrell and Mary had never seen or
Darrell wasn’t kidding himself. He knew it was more than just the money. He felt flattered that the big man had singled him out. He felt privileged—and grateful. Sure he’d had his problems with Lloyd, but that was all water under the bridge now. Everybody knew Lloyd was the golden goose. He could make you rich, and he could also do wonders for your self-esteem. To be chosen by Lloyd—it wasn’t just the opportunity of a lifetime; it was a badge of outlaw distinction.
So Lloyd set up shop in the shed behind Darrell’s house and the two of them went to work. Just a couple of weeks into the deal, however, it was starting to look like a serious mistake. Mary certainly thought so: she’d been opposed from the start to Darrell teaming with Lloyd and nothing she’d seen so far had caused her to change her mind. It was partly the drugs, the last thing she wanted Darrell getting involved with, but a lot of it was Lloyd himself. It wasn’t anything in particular he’d said or done but the guy somehow frightened her, unnerved her. He seemed to ooze lascivious menace. The way he looked at her when he came around, like he was staking his claim— Later, baby, later, just wait and see . The guywas obviously bad news. She told Darrell to break it off before he got in any deeper.
Darrell knew he shouldn’t take Mary’s concerns lightly. He’d heard the stories about Lloyd, his penchant for pretty young women, turning them into crank whores so they’d do his bidding. And now he remembered something else, rumors from long ago about Lloyd actually raping two of his own daughters. Like a lot of other people, he’d discounted the rumors at the time. But now Mary—his very own sweet Mary—was claiming to feel threatened by the guy. Chances were it wasn’t just her imagination.
There was something else bothering Darrell, frustrating him no end. It was two weeks into the deal now, and Lloyd still hadn’t given any indication of delivering on his promise. Teaching him the tricks of the trade? Turning him on to the recipe for crank so he could go freelance and start raking in the money himself? Forget about it. Two weeks in and he was still nothing more than a glorified gopher, helping Lloyd out, running errands for him, standing in as the butt of his putdowns. He’d tried bringing the subject up once or twice but Lloyd had just mumbled him off.
“I don’t know if he’s ever going to come through,” Darrell told Mary. “It’s like he just wants to keep the apple in front of my face.”
There were additional tensions also, mostly of the you’d-have-to-be-there variety. Lloyd owned a beautiful Jack Russell terrier that he knew Darrell really liked. He offered the dog to Darrell as a gift but never quite got around to turning it over. It was always, “Not now, maybe later.” Power tripping, Darrell thought, stringing him along, just another way of showing who was boss. Then one night, a week or so before Christmas, Darrell and Mary were awakened by the sounds of someone creeping around outside. They weren’t able to pin it on him for sure, but they both assumed it had to be Lloyd. Lloyd the pervert—skulking about for cheap thrills.
But they kept at it, Darrell and Lloyd, two strong-headed outlaws not accustomed to budging an inch: Darrell stewing over whether he’d ever get his big break; Lloyd probably not caring one way or another.
Part II
CHAPTER FOUR
T HE DAY AFTER Christmas of 1987, Lloyd dropped by Darrell’s house with some meth, a special confection he said he’d cooked up for Darrell as a present. It was strange stuff, pink and gummy, and wickedly acrid. Darrell and Mary had never seen or
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