just awful bad timing. I was raised on a farm, so by the time I turned ten I could fire a shotgun when the fox tried to steal the chickens and I could skin a rabbit better than my older brother, Clyde Gene. Fredo grew up in an orphanage with the nuns of St. Rosita. Closest he came to a weapon was whacking a set of rosary beads around like them numchucks the Chinese use. He was learning, though. I was teaching him how to handle a machete.” She shook her frizzy head. “I went to the neighbor’s to borrow two cups of flour for the tortillas I was making him, and when I got back, there he was, sliced in the gut and bled out like a skinned deer. Five minutes sooner, I mighta saved him.”
Derry shifted in her chair and hazarded a glance in Earl Gray’s direction. Unless he had a serious Death Wish, maybe he should rethink the marriage thing.
“And then came Raymond Nudel, six years later. Handsome rascal with those slanty eyes and that black braid hanging down his back. Sassy and stubborn to boot.” Her thin lips turned up in a smile of remembering. “We’d been living in Ogunquit for about a year. Raymond went down for an early morning swim and that was the last I saw him until they pulled his body out of the water three miles down.”
“This is scarier than a Stephen King novel,” Shea murmured.
Tula Rae sighed. “I could write a book. It’d be a best seller— love story, comedy, thriller, all wrapped in one.”
“Maybe you should.” This from Derry. “I know some people in the publishing business.”
Tula Rae shooed the idea away with two bony fingers. “I ain’t no writer, that’s for sure. Past is past. Too many people keep trying to drudge up their pasts, what with hows, and whys, it’s too confusing on a person. All it does is mess up their head.” Her voice dipped. “Cici died fourteen years ago. All’s he ever wanted to do was protect me, but he ended up shooting himself in the jaw when he was cleaning his rifle. It was the one in the chamber that got him. I told him about it too many times, but still, he forgot.”
Cyn’s words filled the silence. “I’m so sorry, Tula Rae. I thought…”
“You thought I killed ‘em all, didn’t you?”
“He said…”
The rest of her words seemed to jam up somewhere in Cyn’s brain, so Derry blurted out, “Some guy told her you did.”
A wide mouthed howl burst from Tula Rae, big enough to reveal the silver in her back molars. “It’s old Gus Habernathy’s doings. He’s the mayor in town. He’ll do anything to keep the tourists coming, like I was some kind of Lizzie Borden.”
“Maybe I need to pay him another visit,” Earl Gray said, stroking his thin, black mustache. “Guess he didn’t hear me the first time.”
“I’ll leave you sitting in the emergency room next time if you do,” she said. “See if you can hobble back here on crutches, ‘cause you know Gus’ll go for that bum knee of yours again.”
“I’ll take him from behind. He’ll never see me coming.”
“And I’ll lock you out,” she snipped.
“I thought you didn’t lock doors,” Shea said.
“I’ll damn well start.” Her dark eyes targeted Earl Gray. “This ain’t your business, Earl Gray. It’s Gus’ way of bringing in business, and giving the town a little entertainment.”
“But people believe it.”
“Who?”
“Whoever told Cyn, and now Cyn, too.”
“People who know me know I do what’s right, maybe not what they want me to do, but what’s right by me.” She jabbed her chest.
“Why won’t you ever let me help you?” Earl Gray’s sorrowful plea filled the room.
“It’s like I been telling you for seven years, Tula Rae don’t need no help.” She set her napkin on the table beside her half-eaten plate of vegetable lasagna and stood. “Every man that’s ever tried to help me ended up dead anyway.”
And with that, she marched out of the kitchen, head high, gray braid swinging.
***
Shea slipped out the back door and
Derry shifted in her chair and hazarded a glance in Earl Gray’s direction. Unless he had a serious Death Wish, maybe he should rethink the marriage thing.
“And then came Raymond Nudel, six years later. Handsome rascal with those slanty eyes and that black braid hanging down his back. Sassy and stubborn to boot.” Her thin lips turned up in a smile of remembering. “We’d been living in Ogunquit for about a year. Raymond went down for an early morning swim and that was the last I saw him until they pulled his body out of the water three miles down.”
“This is scarier than a Stephen King novel,” Shea murmured.
Tula Rae sighed. “I could write a book. It’d be a best seller— love story, comedy, thriller, all wrapped in one.”
“Maybe you should.” This from Derry. “I know some people in the publishing business.”
Tula Rae shooed the idea away with two bony fingers. “I ain’t no writer, that’s for sure. Past is past. Too many people keep trying to drudge up their pasts, what with hows, and whys, it’s too confusing on a person. All it does is mess up their head.” Her voice dipped. “Cici died fourteen years ago. All’s he ever wanted to do was protect me, but he ended up shooting himself in the jaw when he was cleaning his rifle. It was the one in the chamber that got him. I told him about it too many times, but still, he forgot.”
Cyn’s words filled the silence. “I’m so sorry, Tula Rae. I thought…”
“You thought I killed ‘em all, didn’t you?”
“He said…”
The rest of her words seemed to jam up somewhere in Cyn’s brain, so Derry blurted out, “Some guy told her you did.”
A wide mouthed howl burst from Tula Rae, big enough to reveal the silver in her back molars. “It’s old Gus Habernathy’s doings. He’s the mayor in town. He’ll do anything to keep the tourists coming, like I was some kind of Lizzie Borden.”
“Maybe I need to pay him another visit,” Earl Gray said, stroking his thin, black mustache. “Guess he didn’t hear me the first time.”
“I’ll leave you sitting in the emergency room next time if you do,” she said. “See if you can hobble back here on crutches, ‘cause you know Gus’ll go for that bum knee of yours again.”
“I’ll take him from behind. He’ll never see me coming.”
“And I’ll lock you out,” she snipped.
“I thought you didn’t lock doors,” Shea said.
“I’ll damn well start.” Her dark eyes targeted Earl Gray. “This ain’t your business, Earl Gray. It’s Gus’ way of bringing in business, and giving the town a little entertainment.”
“But people believe it.”
“Who?”
“Whoever told Cyn, and now Cyn, too.”
“People who know me know I do what’s right, maybe not what they want me to do, but what’s right by me.” She jabbed her chest.
“Why won’t you ever let me help you?” Earl Gray’s sorrowful plea filled the room.
“It’s like I been telling you for seven years, Tula Rae don’t need no help.” She set her napkin on the table beside her half-eaten plate of vegetable lasagna and stood. “Every man that’s ever tried to help me ended up dead anyway.”
And with that, she marched out of the kitchen, head high, gray braid swinging.
***
Shea slipped out the back door and
Similar Books
