Cherie gave him a girlish come-hither look, then spoke in a teasing singsong: “Come on and stay. I’ll give you what you’re always begging for.”
Forrest stepped closer to the bed. He knew some truly kinky women down in New Orleans, but nothing could compare to a housewife so bored she would scratch scars into her arms to keep from going out of her mind every day. “Next time,” he said. “Alphonse is waiting for me.”
“Oh, screw that ugly Redbone,” Cherie said, and then she giggled. “On second thought, you couldn’t pay me to screw him.”
Forrest didn’t laugh. He took her by the wrist and squeezed hard enough to make her wince. “Next time I may bring Alphonse in here to take a turn. And he won’t be paying you. You think about that while I’m gone.”
Cherie looked at him as though he’d broken some unspoken rule. “You don’t mean that, Forrest.”
He walked to the door, opened it, and looked back with utter seriousness. “Alphonse, come in here a second.”
Cherie Delaune’s face drained of blood. She’d had no idea that Ozan had been sitting out in the trailer’s den, waiting to run interference if her husband showed up. But when the big Redbone walked through the door, she understood quick enough. If Ricky had come home while she was doing Forrest, he probably would have died in front of his own television.
“Ya’ll get out of here,” Cherie said in a small voice. “This ain’t funny.”
Ozan laughed, his copper-colored face alight with anticipation.
“You sure you don’t want to take a turn, Al?” Forrest said. “She’s all ready for you. And we can spare twenty minutes.”
Like a cornered animal, Cherie Delaune searched desperately for an exit, but both men were blocking the only door.
“Ya’ll can’t make me do this!” she cried, pulling the covers over herself.
“No?” said Forrest. “Who you gonna tell?”
“I didn’t mean what I said about your wife, Forrest.”
Ozan walked toward the bed.
“Get away from me!” Cherie shouted. “I ain’t no whore! Forrest!”
But Forrest was already in the hall, headed toward the trailer’s kitchen, a wicked smile on his face.
He took a jug of milk from the refrigerator, then sat down on a cheap sofa, laid his pistol beside him, and thought about Penn Cage and his family.
CHAPTER 29
CAITLIN AND I are lying in the claw-foot tub in my bathroom, steam filling the air and fogging the mirrors. The tub is wide enough that she can lie nestled in my left arm, her cheek on my shoulder. The only light comes from a lamp in the corner, throwing strange shadows across the walls and the hardwood floor. Annie has been asleep for an hour, so we decided to risk a bath. Prior to our engagement, Caitlin never spent a whole night here; she was always gone by the time Annie awakened. Now she occasionally stays until morning. Often, though, she leaves after making love, to work late at the paper or simply to pay her staff a visit as the next day’s stories start going up on the website and the print edition gets put to bed.
“How are you going to cover Dad’s arrest?” I ask. “If it happens.”
She takes her time answering. “We’ll have to print it in the police record section. But other than that, I don’t think we’ll do anything.”
“That will probably upset a lot of people. Even if Shad doesn’t press for coverage—”
“He’d better not press for anything. I’ll publish that dogfighting snapshot so fast he won’t have time to get dressed before splitting town.”
I run the fingers of my right hand through her damp hair. “I’m just saying that Viola’s son is likely to make a stink, if his intention is to make it as hard on Dad as he can. Not to mention some black community leaders, and my political enemies among the whites. You won’t be able to keep it out of the paper altogether.”
“Let me ask you something,” she says in a tone that makes me catch my breath. “Do you think Tom slept with Viola back in the day or not?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“How attractive was she?”
“In my memory, she was pretty.”
“One to ten.”
“Uh … eight? Maybe nine.”
“Plus the forbidden-fruit thing, you can’t ignore that.”
“Well … I’ll find out tonight.”
“You’d better assume it’s true, no matter what he says.”
“Why? This is Dad we’re talking about.”
“Yes, but until a DNA test proves otherwise, Shad is going to proceed as though it’s true. I think he must believe it; otherwise he wouldn’t risk you destroying his career.”
“I know.”
“If Tom is arrested, will the judge set bail? Do you know which judge it will be?”
“The initial appearance will be before the Justice Court judge, since Viola died in the county. That’s Charlie Noyes. Charlie won’t see Dad as a flight risk, and he’ll be skeptical about the crime, so I’m hoping for a decently low bond. Also, Shad promised try to arrange the timing of the arrest so that if the judge does set bail, we can process Dad through the system without him actually having to spend time in a cell.”
“Thank God. With all the drugs he needs just to keep going, I wouldn’t feel comfortable with him spending even an hour in jail.”
“Imagine him spending years in one.”
“I can’t. Annie’s right. That simply cannot happen.”
“If he doesn’t start talking to me tonight, it could.”
“We need more hot,” Caitlin says, extending one toned leg and turning the hot water tap with her toes. “Can you imagine any reason other than this paternity thing to explain Tom circling the wagons without you?”
“All I can work out is that he’s protecting someone. That’s all he’s ever tried to do, so why should he change now? The other option is that the Double Eagles have threatened our lives. The family, I mean. Possibly even Annie. You know Dad would take a bullet to protect her.”