telling you, I was not involved in any of it.”
“I believe this is where we started this conversation. And yes, you were, I just don’t know the details yet.”
Lucille snorted and lifted her chin. “Fine then, you just run along and see what dirt you can dig up on me. There isn’t any, of course, but you go on and have a good time trying. I have plenty of things to do right here.”
Oh, I just bet she did. Red flags and blue flashing lights accompanied the warning bells in my head this time, forcing me to face a reality I really wanted to ignore. I couldn’t leave her alone. Regardless of what orders I gave, she still had unfettered access to a phone, a Buick and a 9mm handgun. There were no good outcomes from that scenario. None. “Change of plans. Get in the car.”
“What! All this fuss about locking me away in my own house and now you just up and order me to get in the car? Why, I don’t even know if I want to go now,” she said, reaching for her purse on the table. “That little rental car of yours is awfully small.”
“Hold on there. You can take the purse, but the gun stays here.”
Lucille made a good effort at registering shock and outrage, but she moved on to snarling rather quickly. “I can take my gun anywhere I want. I have a permit.”
“I don’t care.”
She glared for a few seconds, weighing her options. Finally, she flung open the black bag, fumbled around inside, pulled out the gun case and set it on the table. “This really hurts me, Jolene.”
“We’re taking the Buick. Get in the car.”
Chapter
Four
I chose the paved road to Bowman City, and fourteen minutes after we’d passed the Kickapoo city limit sign we were there. To her credit, Lucille had kept her mouth shut most of the way, a whoop escaping only at the crest of a really big hill. And not from fear either. She was having a ball. My mother’s idea of fun has apparently changed significantly in the last few years. Months, even.
As I’d expected, the road into the crime scene was blocked. Also as expected, I knew the deputy directing traffic. I pulled up and rolled down my window. “Hey, Leroy, getting things finished up here?”
“Hey, Jolene, Miz Jackson,” Leroy said, bobbing his head at us and snickering. “I’m a packin’. That’s something.”
Huh? I looked at Leroy and then at my mother, who was not so surreptitiously shaking her head at Leroy.
“Best license plate in the county, maybe even the state,” he said. “I kick myself every day for not thinking about it first.”
Lucille waved a dismissive hand at me. “It’s just one of those ‘Keep Texas Wild’ license plates with a horny toad on it,” she said. “That’s all. I support protecting the horny toads, you know.”
“Yes, I know.” After a few seconds, I finally caught up with what they were talking about. “You have a vanity plate that says what?”
“I-M-A-P-A-K-N,” Leroy chortled. “I’m a packin’.”
“If you paid any attention at all you’d have already noticed it,” Lucille snapped. “Now stop all this nonsense and get down to business.”
Leroy took the hint. “Things are just getting started, Jolene,” he said, dropping back into his serious voice. “HazMat’s inside and the bomb dogs are on the way. This is a serious situation we’ve got here. Don’t know what all we’re dealing with.”
We’re not dealing with your first string criminals, that’s for sure. Then again, past experience told me they hadn’t sent the first string HazMat team either. I couldn’t bring myself to ask about the gung-ho guy who’d shown up at Mother’s house a few months back with unfettered enthusiasm, an instruction booklet, lit cigarette, gasoline and Tyvek suit. He’d managed not to blow himself up that day, but he was clearly in line for a Darwin Award at some point. “Think there’s another bomb?”
His eyes kind of popped open a little wider, signaling me that he hadn’t exactly thought of that
“I believe this is where we started this conversation. And yes, you were, I just don’t know the details yet.”
Lucille snorted and lifted her chin. “Fine then, you just run along and see what dirt you can dig up on me. There isn’t any, of course, but you go on and have a good time trying. I have plenty of things to do right here.”
Oh, I just bet she did. Red flags and blue flashing lights accompanied the warning bells in my head this time, forcing me to face a reality I really wanted to ignore. I couldn’t leave her alone. Regardless of what orders I gave, she still had unfettered access to a phone, a Buick and a 9mm handgun. There were no good outcomes from that scenario. None. “Change of plans. Get in the car.”
“What! All this fuss about locking me away in my own house and now you just up and order me to get in the car? Why, I don’t even know if I want to go now,” she said, reaching for her purse on the table. “That little rental car of yours is awfully small.”
“Hold on there. You can take the purse, but the gun stays here.”
Lucille made a good effort at registering shock and outrage, but she moved on to snarling rather quickly. “I can take my gun anywhere I want. I have a permit.”
“I don’t care.”
She glared for a few seconds, weighing her options. Finally, she flung open the black bag, fumbled around inside, pulled out the gun case and set it on the table. “This really hurts me, Jolene.”
“We’re taking the Buick. Get in the car.”
Chapter
Four
I chose the paved road to Bowman City, and fourteen minutes after we’d passed the Kickapoo city limit sign we were there. To her credit, Lucille had kept her mouth shut most of the way, a whoop escaping only at the crest of a really big hill. And not from fear either. She was having a ball. My mother’s idea of fun has apparently changed significantly in the last few years. Months, even.
As I’d expected, the road into the crime scene was blocked. Also as expected, I knew the deputy directing traffic. I pulled up and rolled down my window. “Hey, Leroy, getting things finished up here?”
“Hey, Jolene, Miz Jackson,” Leroy said, bobbing his head at us and snickering. “I’m a packin’. That’s something.”
Huh? I looked at Leroy and then at my mother, who was not so surreptitiously shaking her head at Leroy.
“Best license plate in the county, maybe even the state,” he said. “I kick myself every day for not thinking about it first.”
Lucille waved a dismissive hand at me. “It’s just one of those ‘Keep Texas Wild’ license plates with a horny toad on it,” she said. “That’s all. I support protecting the horny toads, you know.”
“Yes, I know.” After a few seconds, I finally caught up with what they were talking about. “You have a vanity plate that says what?”
“I-M-A-P-A-K-N,” Leroy chortled. “I’m a packin’.”
“If you paid any attention at all you’d have already noticed it,” Lucille snapped. “Now stop all this nonsense and get down to business.”
Leroy took the hint. “Things are just getting started, Jolene,” he said, dropping back into his serious voice. “HazMat’s inside and the bomb dogs are on the way. This is a serious situation we’ve got here. Don’t know what all we’re dealing with.”
We’re not dealing with your first string criminals, that’s for sure. Then again, past experience told me they hadn’t sent the first string HazMat team either. I couldn’t bring myself to ask about the gung-ho guy who’d shown up at Mother’s house a few months back with unfettered enthusiasm, an instruction booklet, lit cigarette, gasoline and Tyvek suit. He’d managed not to blow himself up that day, but he was clearly in line for a Darwin Award at some point. “Think there’s another bomb?”
His eyes kind of popped open a little wider, signaling me that he hadn’t exactly thought of that
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