Standing in the middle of the living room, Neely Kate waved her hand in front of her face. I couldn’t blame her. It smelled like a rat had crawled up inside the tattered sofa and died. “What in tarnation are you cooking in this trailer, Billy Jack?” she asked.
He crushed the beer can with his hand, then tossed it over his shoulder into the kitchen, where it landed on the floor. “I’m working on my super-secret muskrat jerky recipe.”
She shook her head in irritation. “Everybody and his brother knows the only reason you started seeing Dolly Parton was to get at Aunt Thelma’s jerky recipes.”
“That right there’s a bunch of bullshit! I was making jerky for years before Dolly started hangin’ around.”
She put her hands on her hips and glared. “So where is she now?”
“I done told you. I. Don’t. Know.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Two days ago. We got into a big-ass fight and she took off with some guy.”
“What guy?”
“How the hell would I know?”
She turned her head and gave him a sideways glare. “You’re standin’ there tellin’ me that you let Dolly Parton go out that door—” she pointed at the front door, “and get into a car with some guy you didn’t know nothin’ about?” Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead at his silence. “Huh?”
“All right.” He opened a baby gate separating the kitchen from the living room, and the dogs immediately followed him. He moved over to the sink and opened a window, then reached through the opening and grabbed a can of beer.
The dogs ran deeper into the room and began snarling.
Billy Jack cast a backward glance at the dogs as he popped the beer open. “Go on now. Git.” He shooed them out of the kitchen and sauntered into the living room while taking a big gulp of his beverage.
The dogs skidded to a halt next to a nasty leather recliner, still snarling, and piled in a heap.
I felt a vision coming, and I nearly groaned out loud. Talk about poor timing. The nasty trailer faded away, and suddenly I was in a tiny room covered in cheap paneling. An old metal desk sat in the corner. A pretty brunette wearing something that looked like a two-piece swimsuit covered in sequins leaned against it, and she looked ticked off.
“I’ve done my part, and I want my money,” I said in Billy Jack’s voice.
She put her hands on her hips. “Well, you didn’t really deliver in the end, did you?” Her face softened, but her mouth puckered into a pout. “Besides, I thought you did it for me, sugar.”
“I did,” I grunted. “But I still got bills to pay.”
She sighed, gliding toward me, trailing her fingertips down the side of my face. “Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of you.” The vision quickly faded.
“You did it for her,” I blurted out as Billy Jack’s living room came back into focus.
“What are you on about?” he hollered. “If she wanted to leave, I couldn’t do much to stop her.”
Neely Kate shot me a weird look, then turned back to him. “Cut the stalling, Billy Jack.” She tapped her foot. “I ain’t got all day. I got a boss nosier than a cat sniffing out a ball of catnip, wondering where in Sam Hill I am. Who’d Dolly Parton leave with?”
“Some guy from her work.”
Neely Kate’s back stiffened. “What guy?”
“I don’t know. I think he’s a bartender. He came out here lookin’ for her, and she left with him. That’s all I know.”
She put her hand on her hips. “And you just let him take her?”
“It weren’t like that.” He waved his foot at the dogs in front of the recliner, and they scattered, one of them dragging the fur of something that looked alarmingly like a raccoon. Billy Jack flopped down in his chair without spilling a drop of beer—an amazing feat. “I done told you we had a fight. She locked herself in the bedroom, then she came barreling out and hopped in his car. She must have called him.”
“Where’d she go?”
“Damn, woman, yer like a broken record. My answer’s the same as the other first half-dozen times you asked. I don’t know.”
Neely Kate considered his answer before asking. “What were you fightin’ about?”
He stopped mid-sip, mumbling, “I forget.” Then took a drink.
“You forget?” Neely Kate’s tone was dry.
“That was two days ago—” he snorted his disgust, “you can’t expect me to remember everything.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Try again, Billy Jack.”
They had a staring contest for several seconds before he looked away, squirming. “She thought I was messin’ around on ’er.”
“Were you?”
He looked defiant. “Even if I was, it still don’t make it right that she smashed my TV on her way out.” He gestured to a flat screen TV with a shattered screen. “I traded that for a hundred pounds of jerky to Big G at the pawn shop.” His eyes widened. “Do you know how hard it is to make a hundred pounds of jerky?”
“Where’s Dolly’s car?” Neely Kate asked.
He shrugged. “The repo man came and took it two weeks ago.” He downed more beer.
“If you see her, have her call me. I can’t get her on her cell, and her momma’s worried.”