break is just a few weeks away. You could finish out the semester, then fly down there and meet up with him.”
“I don’t have that kind of money.”
“I can loan you the plane fare.”
“I wouldn’t be able to pay you back for ages.”
“So that’ll be my Christmas present to you. Just think about it, okay? Who knows, by then you may not feel the same way about each other.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “Is June seeing somebody else?”
“Why would you ask me that?”
“Because he’s been acting so strange the past few days. Like he’s, I don’t know, all torn up emotionally.”
“You should talk to each other about it. That’s what couples do.”
“You’re right, I guess.” She shrugged her narrow shoulders helplessly. “I mean, whatever.”
Mitch said good night to Callie and headed back into the woods toward the hole in the fence, wondering if he should have told her everything. But it wasn’t his business to tell her about June and Bonita. That was up to June, wasn’t it?
Well, wasn’t it?
He found the hole easily enough but took a wrong turn somewhere in the woods on the other side and came out by Tyrone Grantham’s swimming pool instead of his driveway. The party was over. Everyone was gone—except for an enormous middle-aged black woman and chubby young black girl who were gathering up all of the plastic cups and paper plates and stuffing them into a trash barrel. The smell of perfume lingered in the air. Someone’s yellow bikini top was floating in the pool.
“What do you want?” the woman demanded, glowering at him. “You some kind of a reporter?”
“I was seeing Mr. Lash home. Just came back to get my truck. I’m a friend of the resident trooper. Are you Mrs. Grantham?”
She nodded her head. “Chantal. I know you from the TV, don’t I? You’re that movie critic with the funny eyebrows.”
“That’s me, all right. Except there’s nothing funny about my—”
“This here’s Monique.”
“Hello there, Monique.”
“Hi,” she responded distantly, her gaze fastened on the pavement.
“That bunch of no good leeches had no business here,” Chantal fumed as she tossed more trash in the barrel. “It was that old fool Calvin let ’em in. Hoping one of those girls would get so high she’d spend the night with him. I worked the streets, okay? I know what men are really like. Even you so-called respectable men. You’re all sick. And weak. Can’t control your evil impulses. We’re the strong ones. The good Lord knows that.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” she barked at him. “My Tyrone’s a good boy. He tries to do the right thing. But he’s had to fend for himself and Rondell ever since he was a child. I wasn’t there for him then. Now I am. So you go home and leave us alone, hear? Just go home.”
* * *
She answered her cell phone on the first ring. Always did.
“Did I wake you up?”
“No, I just climbed into bed.”
“What’s the Deacon up to?” he asked, fetching a Bass Ale from his fridge. Quirt was nose down in the kibble bowl enjoying a late night happy meal.
“Watching a rerun of NCIS , what else?”
“Is he wearing his jacket in the house?”
“He is. I was thinking I might burn it when goes to bed—except I swear he never does. You get Winston home okay?”
“I did. Someone cut a hole in the fence between the two properties. That’s how he got in.”
“Did Winston do it?”
“He says not. I did find wire cutters in his toolbox, but my money’s on a tabloid scuzzball.”
“I’d believe that. I’ll tell the Granthams in the morning. Thanks for the heads up.”
“Da Beast was a lot nicer than I was expecting him to be. I kind of liked him, I must confess.”
“He can be very likeable. He can also change gears uber-fast.”
“So shall we talk menu for tomorrow night?”
“Serve whatever you want, Mitch. I won’t be eating a single bite.”
“That’s my girl. Have I told
“I don’t have that kind of money.”
“I can loan you the plane fare.”
“I wouldn’t be able to pay you back for ages.”
“So that’ll be my Christmas present to you. Just think about it, okay? Who knows, by then you may not feel the same way about each other.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “Is June seeing somebody else?”
“Why would you ask me that?”
“Because he’s been acting so strange the past few days. Like he’s, I don’t know, all torn up emotionally.”
“You should talk to each other about it. That’s what couples do.”
“You’re right, I guess.” She shrugged her narrow shoulders helplessly. “I mean, whatever.”
Mitch said good night to Callie and headed back into the woods toward the hole in the fence, wondering if he should have told her everything. But it wasn’t his business to tell her about June and Bonita. That was up to June, wasn’t it?
Well, wasn’t it?
He found the hole easily enough but took a wrong turn somewhere in the woods on the other side and came out by Tyrone Grantham’s swimming pool instead of his driveway. The party was over. Everyone was gone—except for an enormous middle-aged black woman and chubby young black girl who were gathering up all of the plastic cups and paper plates and stuffing them into a trash barrel. The smell of perfume lingered in the air. Someone’s yellow bikini top was floating in the pool.
“What do you want?” the woman demanded, glowering at him. “You some kind of a reporter?”
“I was seeing Mr. Lash home. Just came back to get my truck. I’m a friend of the resident trooper. Are you Mrs. Grantham?”
She nodded her head. “Chantal. I know you from the TV, don’t I? You’re that movie critic with the funny eyebrows.”
“That’s me, all right. Except there’s nothing funny about my—”
“This here’s Monique.”
“Hello there, Monique.”
“Hi,” she responded distantly, her gaze fastened on the pavement.
“That bunch of no good leeches had no business here,” Chantal fumed as she tossed more trash in the barrel. “It was that old fool Calvin let ’em in. Hoping one of those girls would get so high she’d spend the night with him. I worked the streets, okay? I know what men are really like. Even you so-called respectable men. You’re all sick. And weak. Can’t control your evil impulses. We’re the strong ones. The good Lord knows that.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” she barked at him. “My Tyrone’s a good boy. He tries to do the right thing. But he’s had to fend for himself and Rondell ever since he was a child. I wasn’t there for him then. Now I am. So you go home and leave us alone, hear? Just go home.”
* * *
She answered her cell phone on the first ring. Always did.
“Did I wake you up?”
“No, I just climbed into bed.”
“What’s the Deacon up to?” he asked, fetching a Bass Ale from his fridge. Quirt was nose down in the kibble bowl enjoying a late night happy meal.
“Watching a rerun of NCIS , what else?”
“Is he wearing his jacket in the house?”
“He is. I was thinking I might burn it when goes to bed—except I swear he never does. You get Winston home okay?”
“I did. Someone cut a hole in the fence between the two properties. That’s how he got in.”
“Did Winston do it?”
“He says not. I did find wire cutters in his toolbox, but my money’s on a tabloid scuzzball.”
“I’d believe that. I’ll tell the Granthams in the morning. Thanks for the heads up.”
“Da Beast was a lot nicer than I was expecting him to be. I kind of liked him, I must confess.”
“He can be very likeable. He can also change gears uber-fast.”
“So shall we talk menu for tomorrow night?”
“Serve whatever you want, Mitch. I won’t be eating a single bite.”
“That’s my girl. Have I told
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