Part 13 (1/2)
”People have long memories, and they're still holding a few grudges from his misbegotten childhood. n.o.body yet has broken his record for the most suspensions from high school. And the retired police chief can tell you stories that'd make your hair stand on end. Seems everybody has a grudge. Judy Weber won't let him forget that he copied off her arithmetic quiz in fourth grade, then convinced the subst.i.tute that she was the one cheating. He stole a Hank Aaron baseball card from Bob Frazier in sixth grade, then tore it up. He took kids' lunch money, broke their toys, dumped girlfriends right and left, and pretty much cut a wide path of destruction wherever he went until Dallie Beaudine finally took him in hand after Mother died.”
So Dallie Beaudine was the mysterious person Kenny had referred to earlier that day. Obviously Kenny's relations.h.i.+p with Francesca's husband was far more complex than she'd guessed. ”Still, he's apparently been a model citizen since his late teens. It seems that people should let bygones be bygones.”
”Kenny doesn't mind getting teased. And he might be a model citizen, but he sure has some big character flaws. In case you haven't noticed, he's lazy.”
”I did notice,” Emma said dryly. ”Still, laziness isn't a major crime.”
”Sometimes it is with him. He just-I don't know. It's hard to explain. He just doesn't care about anything but golf. That's how his bloodsucker business manager siphoned off so much of his money. Kenny never bothered to check up on him.”
Emma remembered the matter-of-fact way he'd described the child he'd been, without displaying a morsel of sympathy for the circ.u.mstances that had led to his misbehavior. While she didn't believe that adults should use a dysfunctional childhood as an excuse for not getting on with their lives, she'd also seen a great deal of parental incompetence in her career and she didn't think anyone should continue to do penance for it. Yet that seemed to be what Kenny was doing.
”He distances himself from everything but golf,” Torie went on. ”Especially women. He's treated every girl-friend he's had like a queen-buys her expensive presents, sends her flowers-but the minute she starts getting her hopes up that the relations.h.i.+p's permanent, he vanishes.”
Emma realized Torie was issuing a subtle warning, but she said nothing.
Torie continued, ”Everybody in the world wants to be Kenny's best friend, but I'm the only one he lets get halfway close. I never knew a man so determined to hold himself apart from other people. I guess he's afraid if he starts caring too much about anybody, they'll manipulate him like our mother did. Manhood didn't come easy to Kenny, and he's sure not going to let anything threaten it.”
”It's ironic that someone with so much natural charm is fundamentally a loner.”
”He's the friendliest man in the world, until somebody either p.i.s.ses him off or tries to get inside his head. Then he uses that charm to isolate himself. Or he acts dumb. About drives me crazy when he does that, since he's the smartest man I know. My brother goes through books like most people go through potato chips.
Torie fell silent. Emma considered simply telling Kenny's sister that she had no intention of getting personally involved with her brother, but she didn't want to make herself look foolish.
”It's strange,” Torie said. ”Unlike Kenny, my second ex-husband had a picture-perfect childhood, but he turned into an immoral slimeball. You just never know with people.”
”How long have you been divorced?”
”A year, but we were separated for a while before that. Tommy was a womanizer. Daddy warned me not to marry him, but I wouldn't listen.” A deeply unhappy expression crossed her face. ”Maybe if I'd been able to have a baby, Tommy would have settled down, but it didn't happen.”
”I doubt that a baby would have kept him faithful.”
”I know you're right. Still, it's hard being a two-time loser.” She pushed a hand through her hair. ”My first husband was a college romance gone bad. He drank, and when he drank, he'd go on these crying jags, then he'd bust up our apartment. It didn't last a year.” She reached for the radio. ”Daddy says I can't be trusted when it comes to men, which is why he wants me to marry Dexter. But I don't-” She looked into the rearview mirror, and her hand stalled on the radio b.u.t.tons as she frowned. ”That sonovab.i.t.c.h has been tailing me ever since we left Kenny's ranch. I swear he was parked there waiting for me.”
”Really!” Emma twisted around to look and saw a dark green Taurus. ”Do you think he's following us?”
”Could be.”
Emma's mouth went dry. Beddington's watchdog was on the job.
Wynette, Texas, was a charming old town with a shady square at its center and a prosperous, downtown shopping area that hadn't been forced out of business by a mall. Since Kenny had bypa.s.sed Wynette when he'd driven to his ranch, this was Emma's first chance to see the town, and Torie took her on a tour that ended up at a honky-tonk called the Roustabout. A green Taurus stayed with them all the way.
As they went inside, Emma kept trying to look over her shoulder to see who might follow them.
”This is where everybody in town hangs out,” Torie said. ”It's been here for years.”
Unlike the cozy pubs in Lower Tilbey, the Roustabout was a vast, open room, with a square wooden bar in the middle. Emma saw two pool tables, a row of video games, and a small dance floor with a jukebox blaring out country music. Although it was a weeknight, most of the tables were occupied, as were the booths that ran along one wall.
Once again, Emma glanced over her shoulder, and this time she saw a beefy man in a floral sport s.h.i.+rt coming through the door. The skin on the back of her neck p.r.i.c.kled as he began to stare at her, and her heart beat faster. Was he Hugh's spy? Was he the man who'd been driving the green Taurus?
Torie moved ahead of her toward the bar, lifted one hand to her mouth, then let out a shrill whistle. ”Listen up, y'all.”
Although the jukebox continued to play, the conversation died as everyone regarded her with interest.
”This is Lady Emma,” Torie announced. ”Kenny's showing her around for a few days. She's from England. She also happens to be a real, live aristocrat, despite that tattoo on her arm. Lady Emma, say a few words to these rednecks, so they'll know you're for real.”
”I'm delighted to meet all of you,” Emma said self-consciously. She tried to hunch her shoulders just enough for her sleeve to drop lower, but it didn't move, and several people's eyes lingered on her tattoo. Even so, her British accent seemed to impress them.
Torie took Emma's arm and turned her to the bar. ”Joey, give me a gla.s.s of Chardonnay, will you? What would you like, Lady Emma?”
”Gin and tonic, please.” Emma didn't like gin and tonic-not like she liked margaritas-but she wanted everyone to see her drinking. At the same time, she had a permanent reminder emblazoned on her upper arm of her need to stay sober, so she made up her mind to dump the drink and subst.i.tute water as soon as she got the chance. No one would be the wiser.
The bartender served their drinks, and a number of the bar's patrons came up for personal introductions, which Torie provided. One man suggested she lock away her valuables before Kenny stole them, and a woman said not ever to let him turn a jump rope for her because he'd trip her sure as anything. Both comments were greeted with knowing chuckles from the crowd.
Eventually, Torie led her toward a table in one corner where a young male who looked to be in his early twenties sat by himself sipping a beer. As they approached, Emma wondered if there was something in the Wynette water supply that produced such good-looking people. First Kenny, then Torie, and now this young man. He had crisp auburn hair and strong features that included high cheekbones and a square, solid jaw. His shoulders were broad, his body slim but hard-muscled.
”Hey, Ted. How you doin'?” Torie took a seat at the table without waiting for an invitation, then gestured toward the empty chair on the other side for Emma.
”Can't complain. How about you?”
”Same old. Same old. This is Lady Emma.”
As Emma nodded, the man named Ted glanced at her tattoo, then gave her a lazy, meandering smile that made her wish she were ten years younger. ”Ma'am.”
”He's only twenty-two,” Torie said, as if she were reading Emma's mind. ”Isn't that a major crime for us older women?”
Ted smiled and ducked his head to study his beer bottle.
”You seen Kenny?” Torie asked.
”He was here a minute ago.”
The fact that Kenny had gone out on the town without inviting her was annoying. Apparently she was going to have to drop Francesca's name again to remind him who was in charge.
As if she'd conjured him, Kenny came ambling across the room. He had a beer bottle in one hand and a golf club swinging loosely from the other. He tossed it to the bartender, who tucked it away.
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he saw Emma, then he looked at Ted. ”The next lesson in the alley's on you. Randy Ames keeps wanting me to fix his slice, but he won't do a thing I tell him. Maybe you'll have more luck.”
”Are you a golfer, too?” Emma asked Ted, deliberately ignoring Kenny as he took the chair next to her.
”I've been known to play a little.” Although Ted phrased his sentences like a Texan, he didn't have any drawl. Curious.
Kenny snorted. ”Ted here was the top amateur in the state three years running. Second best golfer UT's ever had play for them.”
”There's some debate about that.” Torie shot her brother a sly look. ”Ted did manage to win three NCAA individual t.i.tles, instead of somebody I could mention who only won two. Plus, Ted also managed to graduate, something else a certain person I could mention seems to have neglected.”
”College is hard.” Kenny scratched his chest. ”And the debate over who's the best is resolved as far as I'm concerned.” He regarded Ted smugly. ”Only one of us had the guts to turn pro.”
Ted smiled his shy smile.
Torie turned to Emma. ”See, Ted's this egghead genius, so all his life he's been torn between golf and nerd stuff. Around here people consider him sort of a genetic freak. Even his own parents.”