Covered In Lace

chapter SEVEN

Earl sped from the parking lot of the tiny convenience store, spewing rocks and dust beneath his tires as he swerved his way toward the paved road. His hitch-hiker companion let out a blood-curdling scream until Earl silenced her with a slap to the back of her head. He set his gun in his lap and stuffed the stolen cash into a bag on the seat between them.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” he yelled. “How many times do I have to tell you: no yelling when we're leaving the scene of the crime!” The sneer on his face was menacing.

How many more miles would he have to put up with her whining and belly-aching before he dumped her sorry ass, he thought. If he had half a brain he'd just shoot the stupid bitch and toss her body into the woods and be done with her.

His eyes glanced at her bare thighs and the dirt smears on her knees. A snicker escaped his lips at the thought of how many times he'd had her kneeling down on them to acquire that caked on filth. Turns out, the girl had a developed quite a knack for sucking cock, a talent Earl found useful for the time being. And for that reason alone, he decided to let the girl live – just a while longer.

Earl read the big interstate sign along the side of the road saying they had entered North Carolina. Only seven more state borders to go, he thought, and then the fun would really begin.





Spence Hardwick entered his parole officer's waiting room and sat down. A moment later, a skinny secretary showed him into a cluttered office and asked him to sit in the folding metal chair beside the table. File cabinets surrounded the perimeter of the tiny room. Several stacks of manila folders a foot deep in places covered the table. Spence wondered if one of the files was for him. He blotted at the sweat collecting on his forehead with a handkerchief, then stuffed it back into his pant pocket. The room felt like a sauna and the only window in the room was closed and locked. He swore under his breath and hoped this appointment didn't last long.

The door behind him opened and his parole officer, Jack Higgins, entered the room holding two more file folders in his hand. He tossed them onto the table and looked at Spence.

“Afternoon, Mr. Hardwick,” Jack said.

Spence nodded, holding on to his thighs, like he might want to bolt.

“Not sure why I'm here,” Spence said softly. “I usually see you on Thursday and today's a Tuesday.”

“That's correct, Mr. Harwick.”

“Am I in some sort of trouble?” Spence asked.

“Nope, but I'm afraid your friend is.”

“Which friend?”

“That'd be Earl Fisher,” Jack said. “You remember Earl, don't you?”

Spence blinked several times and dried his damp palms off on his pants.

“It would be wise to tell me the truth, Spence. Where's Earl?”

“I-I, don't know.”

“Of course you do,” Jack said. “You and Earl have been tight ever since you did time to together in county jail. Am I right?”

Spence shook his head. “We're not that close.”

Jack adjusted his thick rimmed eye glasses and leaned over the table toward Spence. “I'm gonna make this easy for you,” he said. “Tell me where Earl's been hiding and I'll forget about the dope I found on you today.”

Spence watched Jack toss a bag of marijuana onto the table.

“That's not mine!”

“Isn't it?” Jack asked. “I believe it must have fallen from your pocket when you sat down in that chair. Isn't that what happened, Spence?”

“No-no, I've been clean eighteen months now,” Spence said.

“Hmmm, then it would be a real shame if this little bag of sticks sends you back to jail. Wouldn't it?”

“I ain't lying, that's not mine!”

“Okay, then tell me what your twisted little friend is up to. Earl never misses a meeting with me unless he's up to no good and my gut is telling me he's up to no damn good.”

“Maybe he's on vacation,” Spence blurted.

“Vacation? I really doubt that, Spence. Now tell me where Earl is or I'll be forced to call the jail and have them prepare a room for you. I bet you'll have a 'date' lined up by weekend. You remember what it's like to 'date' behind bars, don't you, Spence?”

Sweat was dripping from Spence's face. There was no way in hell he was going back to jail, not for anyone – not even Earl.

“He's heading north,” Spence said.

“Where north? North of the city, northern Florida? Exactly where, Spence.”

“Way up north.”

“Earl's a southern boy, Spence, and southern boy's don't just hop in a car and head north for no good reason.”

“He's going to see a girl.”

“A girl? Earl's too damn ugly to have a girl. Besides, I thought Earl liked boys – boys like you.”

“Earl's not like that,” Spence said.

“Oh, come on now, Spence. You and Earl were more than cellmates in jail, weren't you? I bet you played with each other's tally-wackers every night, maybe did a little butt f*cking, too. Isn't that right?”

Spence vehemently shook his head and the probation officer slammed his fist onto the table, making Spence jump in his chair.

“I'm losing my patience, Spence. Tell me where Earl is and you can leave this office right now. If not, then you'll be heading directly back to jail. What's it gonna be?”

A long moment passed. Spence fidgeted in his chair and wrung his hands in his lap. Earl would surely kill him, if he found out he talked, but there was no way he was going down for crimes he didn't do. No way.

“Annie Logan,” Spence finally said.

“Who the hell is Annie Logan and what does she have to do with Earl?”

Twenty minutes later, Jack had more information than he had hoped to know about Earl's road trip north; right down to the family heirloom gun with the pretty pearl handle Earl had brought along with him. Jack sat back in this chair and folded his meaty hands behind his bald head, looking much like the cat that had swallowed the canary.

“See, Spence, it wasn't that hard to rat out your friend after all, was it?” Jack asked.

“Am I free to go?” Spence asked.

“Absolutely,” Jack said. “And, you call me right away if you hear from Earl. You hear me?”

Spence nodded and walked to the door before Jack changed his mind on letting him leave.

Jack waited for the door to close, then picked up his phone. He thought it best he gave the authorities a heads-up on Earl Fisher's intentions, before someone got seriously hurt.





“Fontaine and Bosworth,” the South Carolina's State Police barracks Captain called out to the detectives working in the room. “You're up.” The two detectives followed the Captain into his office. Det. Bosworth shut the door behind them.

“The Fusion Center called about another convenience store robbery, right off Route 95. Store clerk was killed. Same M.O. as the other three in Georgia and the one last week down in Bluffton. Florida State Police is thinking the unsub in these cases could be an Earl Fisher, who was recently a no-show for his parole officer. Information from one of Mr. Fisher's friends say he's headed north. I want you to head down to Bluffton; poke around, and see what you can find out.”

“Take this with you.” The Captain handed Det. Fontaine a file folder. “This is what we know about Earl Fisher. NCIC put an APB out for him this morning. Keep me updated.”





“She's a pretty little thing, isn't she?” Earl asked Maggie, as he spun the chamber around on his .38 caliber, pearl-handled revolver. He loved the way the nickel-plated barrel looked after it was cleaned up nice.

“This is what they call a Detective Special,” Earl said. “Used to be my Grand-daddy's.”

Maggie watched Earl wipe down the snub-nosed gun with a towel from the motel bathroom. It wasn't an especially big gun, but Maggie knew first hand how much damage it could do. She'd seen the bloody aftermath at the last two gas stations Earl had robbed. She shivered at the memory.

“My Grand-daddy was in law enforcement,” Earl said. “Imagine that?”

His laugh was wicked. He stretched his arm out and pointed the gun at Maggie where she sat at the end of the bed and made a popping sound. He chuckled when he saw Maggie flinch.

“No bullets in the chamber, stupid,” Earl said. He waved the gun toward the bathroom. “Go clean yourself up. Yer stinking up the room.”

Maggie hurried into the bathroom and started to shut the door.

“Keep the door open!” Earl shouted.

He slid fresh bullets into the chamber and eased the gun into the back of his pants. He walked to the door of the Super 8 motel and opened the door. Behind him he could hear the tub filling with water. He stepped outside and stood on the sidewalk and gazed across the parking lot.

It was a little before midnight with a slight chill in the air. In the far corner of the parking lot, half dozen eighteen wheeler rigs were parked; some with the engines idling. Earl saw a couple of men standing beside the huge trucks talking and an idea came to him. He walked back inside the motel room and stood in opening of the bathroom. He laughed at Maggie submerged in the tub when she attempted to cover her breasts peeking at him above the waterline in the tub.

“I've seen yer little titties,” he sneered.

He slammed the door shut, then slid a chair under the knob to barricade Maggie inside the bathroom, then left the motel room and walked across the parking lot toward the truckers.

“Howdy,” Earl said to the first man.

The trucker nodded at Earl and adjusted his pants, trying to cover his ample belly.

“You looking for a girl tonight?”

The man narrowed his eyes at Earl. “Who you offering?”

“I got a girl back in the room,” Earl said, pointing over his shoulder. “Twenty bucks and she'll suck yer dick. For fifty, you can have her p-ssy.” Earl glanced at the second man. “How 'bout you? Interested?”

The men followed Earl back to his room. He asked them to wait at the threshold and stepped inside. He removed the chair from beneath the doorknob and walked into the bathroom. Maggie was still submerged and sat up quickly when she saw him standing there.

“Get out of the tub,” Earl said. “We got company.”

“Company?”

Earl grabbed her arm and hauled her out of the tub.

“Time to do a little business,” he said. He dragged her out of the bathroom and tossed her onto the bed. “Be rude to our guests and I'll kill you.” He patted the gun stuffed into the waistband of his pants and walked to the door.

“Which one of you gents wants to go first?” Earl asked.

Two hours later, Earl was sitting at a tiny table in the corner of motel room counting off twenty and ten dollar bills. He gave a loud hoot when he finished and looked over at Maggie curled up on the bed in the fetal position.

“That was the easiest money I ever made,” he said. He rolled up the wad of cash and pushed it into his front pocket. “Who would have thought there'd be such a little goldmine between yer legs.”

After breakfast the next day at the Waffle House they hit the road again. Earl saw a sign advertising Myrtle Beach attractions and glanced at Maggie.

“You're still dropping me off, right?” she asked in a soft voice, her eyes holding on to the sight of the sign until they passed it.

Earl dodged a pothole in the road pavement. Leaving her in Myrtle Beach had been the original plan, he thought. But she was turning out to be quite the little cash cow. He wasn't sure he wanted to go back to the work and risk of robbing and killing when all he had to do was have Maggie spread her legs. It seemed to be a whole lot easier to do that.

“Now, Maggie,” he said. “You know you'd miss me if I left you in Myrtle Beach.”

“Please, Earl,” she said, her bottom lip starting to quiver. “You promised.”

“Yeah, and Santa Claus promised me a new bike that I never got,” he said. “Life is full of disappointments, little girl.” He patted her thigh and she shrunk away from him on the seat. “Best you learn that lesson while yer young.”