“Upper or lower?” Johnny finished his own drink, let the fire slide down his throat, and told himself damn straight Mel would be driving home.
“Upper.” The old man stabbed a bony finger into his own arm. “Nothing special for muscle. You want me to keep looking?”
Why not? “Nope, nope… Wait.” Pappy smacked the phone and almost sent it flying. “That one.”
Melia leaned over Johnny’s shoulder. “This is the guy who shot you? He looks familiar. Why does he look familiar?”
“He’s the guy from the Brewer farm,” Johnny told her. “Lyle— Fuck, no.” He read the ID information. “Lowell Felcher. Susie was right. His name is Lowell. Is this the guy who shot you, Pappy?”
Pappy waved him off. “No, no, this one didn’t shoot me. I tangled with him, is all. He bought a couple jugs of whiskey from me. Didn’t want to pay up. Got testy when I named my price. Tried to make a deal. I told him the price went up for folks who wanted to make deals. He got mad at that, red in the face and nasty. Raised his fists at me until Gomer growled and he caught sight of my shotgun. Then he backed down. Not friendly-like, but he paid up. Said I hadn’t seen the last of him. Never shot me, though, and I never had to shoot him. Chickenshit.”
“Chickenshit with a record.” Johnny scanned the guy’s profile. “Lowell Felcher from Little Rock, Arkansas.” He scrolled down. “What a prick. Guy’s been charged with having sex with underage girls more than once. You want to talk to Dick Brewer about him, Mel.”
She nodded. “As soon as we get back… Pappy, I think you’ve had enough.” Reaching over Johnny, she removed the cup from the old man’s hand. How many drinks had he had? Three or four? The thermos was large and all but empty. Pappy was singing “Jimmy Crack Corn” and toasting his dog.
“Me and Gomer make a fine team,” he crowed. “Say, my foot’s itchy, doc. You got something for that?”
“It’ll pass,” she assured him.
He blinked at her. “That was one of my best batches. Linda and Carl got real lucky. Do I have two thumbs on this hand, doc?”
She grinned. “No, just the one. You might want to get some sleep. Johnny and I will come and see you again in a few days. You’re sure about Lowell?”
“Cheapskate chickenshit.” Laying his head back, Pappy closed his eyes. In a matter of seconds, he began to snore.
Johnny stood and let the room steady around him. “He’s not wrong about that whiskey. Are you sure it was okay for him to drink it?”
Melia smiled. “Him, yes. I checked his chart when we came in. You, I’m not so sure. We should probably buy a gallon of coffee before we leave. I’m assuming you want to talk to Lowell Felcher when we get back to Deception Cove. If we can locate him.”
He wasn’t drunk, but man, that stuff packed a wicked punch. “You drive.” He took her hand. “I’ll drink coffee and figure out if and where Lowell Felcher from Little Rock fits into this jigsaw puzzle. Could be he’s a nonfactor, but he’s changed his name for a reason, and I want to know what that is.”
Melia bought two supersize cups of coffee from the cafeteria. Johnny didn’t think he really needed them, but her concern gave him hope for something more intimate in the near future.
She drove while he consumed caffeine and ran through Lowell Felcher’s file.
When they got back to Deception Cove, Lowell still hadn’t reported in at the construction site. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, according to his very pissed off foreman. That left the Brewer place, and hopefully a sidestep around Daddy Dick, who’d only muddy things up if he got in the way.
“Keep him busy,” Johnny said to Melia as they approached the farm. “Tell him he looks like he’s got Lyme disease.”
“Or maybe we’ll just talk about Cady.” She put the truck in park, then slid out. “You go your way, I’ll go mine. One thing, though. Make sure Lowell can’t get it up with Susie, her older sister, or any other female until he’s so decrepit he won’t remember what the phrase ‘sex offender’ means.”
“Do my best.” Although he knew he was taking a chance, he trapped her wrist and pulled her up against him for a quick but hungry kiss. “Luck be a lady,” he said and kissed her again before she could pull free. Or slap him, as the case may be. Knowing Mel, there’d still be a push me/pull you inside her. Kisses and memories weren’t going to be enough to make up for what he’d done to her. Not for some time.
“You’re such an opportunistic jerk,” she said with only mild rancor. “Go unman Lowell.”
“My pleasure.”
It would have been satisfying to barge in on the guy and catch him completely off guard, but of course, Lowell wasn’t there. He’d show soon enough, however. His truck was outside—Johnny was pretty sure it was his and not his bunkie’s—and there was a half-eaten sandwich on the counter.
Shoving a duffel bag aside, Johnny sat on the low sofa with his feet propped on a rickety coffee table. He was considering rummaging through the bag when he heard boots clomping up the outside stairs.
“Dumb bitch,” Lowell mumbled, kicking the door open. He was reaching into the back pocket of his jeans when he caught sight of Johnny on the couch.
He stopped dead, hand poised. His gaze flitted around the shadowy room. “You’re not Andy,” he said, and his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously.
“Nope, and I’m not Sheriff Travers, either.” Johnny smiled. “What I am is pissed, armed, and faster than you. Get your hand out where I can see it, or you’ll be picking up pieces of your kneecaps for the next month.”
Lowell brought his hand around slowly. “I was just putting my wallet away. Bitch stole it from me after we… I mean before she skedaddled.”
“Yeah? Would that be Susie or her sister?”
Lowell’s face reddened. “None of your damn business.”
Johnny kept his feet up and an affable smile fixed in place. “Hey, you invited me into the conversation. I only came here to tell you you’re leaving.”
“Says who, asshole?” Dull red stained Lowell’s neck and ears then. “I got pay waiting at the end of this week. And in case you didn’t hear me, there’s fifty bucks missing from my wallet.”
“Consider it a down payment on the space that’s waiting for you in hell. I’ve read the police report on you, Felcher. You’ve served time for everything from possession of child porn to having sex with three minors. Exposure, too. I have to say, after viewing the photographic evidence, you’ve got little to brag about. If I were you, I sure as hell wouldn’t be flashing it around for the world to see.”
Lowell started to speak, then seemed to think better of it.
“Smart man,” Johnny said. “Now here’s the deal.” Dropping one foot, he shoved the duffel bag aside. “You’re going to pack up and clear out of Deception Cove, right now. No stopping to beg for an early paycheck. In fact, no stopping at all. You need gas, buy it in Bellwater. You run out before you get there, hitch a ride to the nearest station.”
Thin lipped, Lowell pulled himself up to his full height. “Bitch stole my cash.”
“Tough. You’ve got one minute.”
Those thin lips separated to reveal a row of yellowed teeth. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”
Johnny watched him cross to a tall dresser and open a drawer. Lowell didn’t quite have the rifle out when Johnny’s forearm snaked around his neck. He pressed the tip of his Glock up under the man’s jawbone.
“You need to listen harder, Felcher. I said pissed, armed, and fast. Leave the rifle, take whatever else you can lay your hands on in thirty seconds, and get the fuck out of here before I forget I’m the good guy and put a bullet in your ear.”
Lowell gave a short nod, opened another drawer, and shoved what clothes he could into a shopping bag. He clattered down the stairs with only a single backward glance. When he saw Johnny still holding his gun, he hopped into his dust-covered truck and slammed the door. The back tires spun as he roared out of the yard.
The dust was still settling when Susie emerged from a stand of trees. She let a curtain of Spanish moss fall behind her, spied Johnny, and halted mid step.