Trailer Trash (Neely Kate Mystery Book 1) Page 3

  “I’m sorry,” Jed said so quietly I barely heard him.

  “I’m not crying because my head hurts.”

  He set the bloody towel on the desk and then lifted my chin so I was looking in his eyes. “I know.”

  “Why are you being so nice to me after I pushed you into all that mud and pig shit?”

  He grinned. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.”

  “Liar.”

  His grin spread and I marveled at it. Jed Carlisle was this big, tough guy—Skeeter’s right-hand man and Rose’s badass bodyguard. But several times now, I’d seen a different side to him, softer and more accessible.

  I heard pounding on the office door, quickly followed by Skeeter’s voice. “What the hell’s goin’ on? Why am I locked out of my own goddamned office?”

  Jed’s eyes turned hard as he dropped his hand and stalked toward the door. After he unfastened the deadbolt, he flung the door open and blocked the opening with his wall of a body.

  “What the hell’s goin’ on, Jed?” Skeeter demanded again. “Merv’s out there nursin’ a broken nose and a busted hand. Was it Wagner’s men?”

  “Where’s Merv?” Jed grunted.

  “Have you lost your damn mind? I already told you he’s in the bar. I just called Mindy.”

  “She was already on her way. And she’s coming in here first.” His voice took on a harsh edge. “And if the fucker comes anywhere near her again . . .”

  “Her?” Skeeter asked in alarm.

  Jed stepped out of the way, letting Skeeter get a good look at me sitting on his desk.

  Several emotions swept over his face. Disappointment, followed by relief, and then admiration. I had no doubt the first two were related to the fact that I wasn’t the woman he really wanted to see draped on his desk. But I’d take the third any day of the week.

  “This is your doin’?” he asked as he walked inside and shut the door behind him.

  “He had it comin’,” I said in a defiant tone.

  “He has a helluva lot more comin’ than that,” Jed said through gritted teeth. “Which I’ll see to shortly.”

  Skeeter held his hand up to quiet Jed, studying me as though seeing me for the first time. A huge grin spread across his face.

  “Who the hell are you, Neely Kate?”

  Chapter 4

  I saw no point in beating around the bush. I suspected time wasn’t on my side. “That’s why I’m here.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Go on.”

  “First I need to know that what I tell you won’t leave this room.”

  He held his hands out from his sides. “Who am I going to tell?”

  “Rose,” Jed said behind him. “She wants to keep it from Rose.”

  Skeeter’s face hardened. “That shouldn’t be a problem since she and I are no longer working together. Not to mention I don’t go around gossiping like busybodies at that damn bingo hall you go to with your granny.” He grinned at my look of surprise. “You should know I know everything about you.” A smirk lit up his eyes. “Or I thought I did.”

  “I need your help, but I don’t have any money to pay you.”

  “Maybe we can work out a barter.”

  That was what I was equally counting on and fearing.

  I reached into my purse and pulled out the envelope. “Kate Simmons has been sending me letters.”

  “Like pen pals?”

  I gave him a dark look. “I’ve never responded, so no. It didn’t seem like a good idea.”

  He nodded.

  “The first few started out vague, suggesting she knows about my past, threatening to tell about it, but her latest . . . I need to know what she knows.” I handed him the letter. “And I need to know how she knows it.”

  He took it from me, but he settled into the chair behind his desk before he opened the envelope. He glanced up at me for several seconds before he said, “Why not tell your brother?”

  “I don’t want him to know about my past either.”

  Skeeter leaned back in his chair. He examined the letter, shooting glances at me every few seconds.

  I could see why Rose was drawn to him, although she’d never admit it out loud in a million years. James “Skeeter” Malcolm was a man who demanded attention. His over six-foot frame and bulky arms and chest, not to mention the tattoos peeking out under the sleeves of his short-sleeve shirt and at his neckline, made him an imposing presence. His dark good looks only added to the effect. But it was his confidence that held sway over most people—a cockiness that bordered on arrogance yet assured that he could deliver on a promise.

  I was counting on that last trait now.

  He lifted the paper to his nose. “Perfume?”

  “Azaleas. The others have smelled of them, only I didn’t recognize the scent until today. She sent actual flowers with this one.” I paused. “Rose says azaleas are out of bloom. They all died out by the end of May.”

  “Do you know why Kate sent you azaleas?”

  I hesitated. “Yes.”

  He paused. “Rose knows about the letters?”

  “I mentioned them in a moment of weakness a couple of weeks ago, but she doesn’t know specifics. She found the azaleas on my desk after I got the latest letter this morning. I told her a customer had brought them in.”

  “And you don’t want her to know about what Kate’s referring to?”

  “No.”

  He looked surprised. “You really think what you’ve done will turn her from you?”

  “I’m not taking that risk with her or Joe.”

  “Do you plan to meet her?” he asked.

  “Kate? Yes.”

  He nodded. “I think this goes without saying, yet it bears repeating: What we tell each other in this room stays with the three of us.”

  I nodded and winced when the motion sent a spike of pain through my head.

  Jed was still standing in front of the door with his arms folded across his chest, looking like a sentry, except his full attention was on me. His face tightened when he saw my visible show of pain.

  Skeeter handed me the paper. “I have someone watching Kate Simmons.”

  I gasped. “For how long?”

  “Since she arrived in town this past winter.”

  “Then why didn’t you figure out what she was up to before she sprang it on us?”

  He grimaced. “Because she gave my guy the slip a few times. And she was barely a blip on my radar. No one ever took Kate Simmons seriously. Obviously she used that to her advantage.”

  “I’ll say,” I grumbled. “If you’ve had her watched, you should be able to figure out how she got the letters out, right?”

  “Yeah, and I’ll help you, but it comes at a price.”

  Here it was. “What is it?”

  “When you meet with Kate, I want you to bring Jed with you.”

  I shot a glance to Jed to gauge his reaction. While he’d gone out of his way to protect me this morning, I’d learned from the way he always watched over Rose that protecting people was in his blood . . . just like seeing the good in people was in Rose’s. But taking a road trip to see my crazy sister was something else entirely.

  Jed stared at me with his usual poker face, those strong arms still folded across his chest, giving me absolutely nothing. After all the grief I’d given him over the last couple of months, there was no way he wanted to do this, but he would do it anyway because Skeeter would order it.

  That was the last thing I needed.

  “No way.” Then I thought of a reason to leave him behind. “They record who comes to visit, Skeeter. And they may not even let me in without Joe.”

  “They’ll let you in, and I’m well aware of the visitor list. I’m also aware of who’s been recorded and who hasn’t been.”

  “You’re saying people have visited her without making it on that list?”

  He remained silent.

  There went my excuse. I had known Skeeter Malcolm’s help wouldn’t come for free. I should have realize
d it would cost me what remained of my pride, even if Skeeter had no idea about my conflict with his second-in-command. “So I go see Kate, and Jed tags along and does what? Spies on me?”

  The look on his face told me I was close to crossing a line. “I have questions of my own. If Jed comes with you as your protection on a family visit, it will look less suspicious.”

  “I can’t risk Joe finding out I took Jed to see her.”

  “Don’t you worry about that part,” Jed said. “I’ve got it covered.”

  My eyes narrowed. “You knew I’d come to you?”

  Skeeter laughed. “Hell, no. But this isn’t the first conversation we’ve had in regard to Kate Simmons. Let’s just say it’s fortuitous.”

  “Okay . . . when?”

  There was a knock on the door, and Skeeter got to his feet. “Tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  His brows rose in an expression that dared me to question him. Usually I’d take him up on that dare, but I needed him too much to pose a challenge.

  “I’m going to have a hard time explaining why I’m gone to Rose.”

  “Figure it out.” He opened the door, revealing a middle-aged woman holding a leather bag.

  “Another brawl, Malcolm?” she asked in a surly tone.

  “You could say that,” he said as he motioned her in.

  She took one look at me and hesitated. “And who do we have here?”

  “Mindy, the only thing you need to know is that she’s the one who whooped Merv’s ass.”

  “Mr. Chapman’s having a rough year,” the woman said. “Between his gunshot wounds and this, you’re going to have to start giving him hazard pay.”

  Jed’s dark look suggested he thought otherwise.

  “Jed,” Skeeter barked. “She’s in capable hands. Time to have a chat with Merv.”

  After the two men left, Mindy set her bag on the desk.

  “Lover’s spat?” she asked, giving me a shrewd look as she rummaged through the bag.

  I snorted. “Hardly. There’s no love lost between me and Merv.”

  She stopped what she was doing and stared into my face. “Did he attack you?”

  “I handled it.”

  She shook her head and pulled out a plastic container and set it on the desk. “Honey, this isn’t a world any sane woman wants to get mixed up in.”

  “That’s not why I’m here.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, obviously not buying it. “That’s what they all say, sweetie.”

  “Seriously. I need help is all, and Skeeter Malcolm has the resources to give it to me.”

  “That comes at a cost, sugar.” She poured something into the plastic dish—iodine, from the smell—then pulled out a giant sponge from her Mary Poppins bag and started dabbing my head.

  I saw no point in arguing with her. Not when I’d already come to that conclusion on my own.

  Jed and Skeeter returned about five minutes later, with Merv in tow. His face was now wiped clean, but he had cotton stuffed in his nostrils, and he was cradling his hand to his chest. Mindy had already deadened the back of my head and started stitching.

  The moment I saw Merv, I stiffened.

  “Merv has something he would like to say,” Jed said, his eyes glittering with the promise of danger.

  Merv looked like he wanted to strangle Jed. “I regret my overly aggressive behavior.” He dragged out each word, as if the apology pained him worse than a dozen beatings—by a girl. “I will pay for any damages.”

  “Seems to me you’re the one sportin’ all the damages,” I retorted.

  Skeeter laughed, looking like he was loving every minute of this.

  “I will be happy to pay to replace your clothes,” Merv choked out.

  Crap. I hadn’t thought of that. I was going to need to change before I headed back to the office. Not to mention all the blood in my hair. “Fine. One hundred dollars should cover it.”

  “One hundred dollars?” Merv protested. “Hell, you can buy a new shirt for ten bucks at Walmart.”

  “Actually, add an additional one hundred for my pain and suffering. Two hundred.”

  “You’ll have it before you leave,” Skeeter said as Merv staggered out of the room. “And I offer you my guarantee this won’t happen again.”

  “Well, I can’t guarantee it won’t happen again,” I said, flinching as the woman tugged on a stitch. “If I’m attacked again, I’ll do the same or worse.”

  Skeeter raised his brows, a slight smile still playing on his lips. “I would expect nothing less.”

  I could practically feel Mindy staring at the back of my head. “Jed will pick you up at noon tomorrow,” Skeeter continued. “Text him where you’ll be.” He headed out the door. “Now I have actual important things to do . . .”

  Jed stayed behind, watching the woman work.

  “Well, that was a decent gash. You got four stitches,” Mindy said, pulling away. I watched as she wrapped up the kit she’d used and stuffed it into a small red trash bag. She checked my eyes, looking for signs of a concussion, then deemed me fit as a fiddle. “You can wash the blood out of your hair, but try to keep your scalp dry. You won’t be able to use a bandage, so it might seep onto your pillow for the next few nights.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You can get your stitches out in a week. Have Malcolm call me, and I’ll take care of it.”

  “Okay.”

  She stole a glance at Jed before returning her focus to me. “Remember what I said.” Then she turned to Jed. “Where’s Mr. Chapman? Am I taking care of him in the pool hall?”

  “No. Skeeter wanted to keep him away from her.”

  She nodded. “Then send him in if he’s ready.”

  Jed moved toward me, gesturing toward the door. He followed me out to the pool hall, and when Merv shot me a glare from his chair—probably one of the ones I’d knocked over—Jed slid in between us. A silent warning. Merv got up, slapped some money on the table, then headed to the back.

  I kept on going. Jed snatched it up and followed me.

  “Neely Kate,” he said as I reached the front door, but the worry in his voice told me I needed to get out of there quick before I lost it.

  Ignoring him, I headed out into the summer heat, temporarily blinded by the sunshine.

  He followed me to my car, pushing the door closed when I tried to open it.

  “Get away from my car, Jed, or I’ll give Mindy something else to do before she leaves.”

  Typical Jed, he didn’t say a word, just grabbed my arms, startling me when he gently pulled me to his chest and wrapped his arms around me.

  “I’m sorry.” His words were muffled in my hair, but they burned a mark into my heart.

  I gave myself several seconds before I jerked out of his hold. Looking away so he wouldn’t see, I wiped at an escaping tear. “I’ve handled worse.”

  His eyes found mine. “From whatever it is you’re running from?”

  I hesitated, then nodded.

  “I should have gotten to you sooner.”

  I shook my head, thankful my skin was still numb. “I can’t do this.”

  I opened the door, and Jed didn’t stop me this time. Instead, he handed me the money he’d picked up and closed the door once I was inside.

  Just my luck, the damn car didn’t start. I whacked the steering wheel with my fist. Why couldn’t I escape this man?

  Jed didn’t say anything—he opened my door, calm as could be, and then reached in and popped open the hood. I told myself to stop him, that accepting help from Jed Carlisle was not to be taken lightly. Of course, I could say the same for Skeeter, but the risk seemed greater with Jed.

  He lifted the hood and told me to turn it over again. After several tries, the car started running. He closed the hood and walked around, leaning in the window, which was open because my air conditioning had been one of the first things to go. “That will get you to the square but probably not back to the farmhouse.”

  “I’ll t
ake my chances.”

  But I’d been taking them my whole life, and my marker was finally getting called.

  Because of my car, I didn’t dare stop by Walmart for a change of clothes, let alone the toilet paper I’d used as an excuse. Besides, while I’d seen a lot of oddities at the supercenter, walking around in a blood-drenched shirt seemed like a bad idea. So I sucked it up and drove back to the office, racking my brain to come up with a feasible explanation. Nothing came to mind, but a somewhat frantic search of my car yielded a cardigan to cover the blood down the back of my shirt, and a floppy sun hat hid the rest. I pulled on both of them, tucking my hair into the hat. Later I could sneak away for a few minutes and buy a shirt at the new clothing store on the other side of the square.

  I hadn’t been gone that long given everything that had happened, but Rose was packing her tote bag with her laptop and notepad when I walked in the door.

  “Sorry I was gone so long,” I said.

  “That’s okay,” she said, slinging the bag over her shoulder. She looked up and gave me a strange look. “It’s got to be at least eight-five degrees outside already. Why are you wearing a sweater?”

  “I got cold.”

  “The air conditioner is out in your car.”

  I shrugged.

  She moved closer and put her hand to my forehead. “Are you coming down with something?”

  “No,” I said with a soft smile, hoping Jed had cleaned most of the blood off my neck. “I didn’t eat breakfast, so maybe that latte didn’t sit well.”

  “Why are you wearing a hat?”

  I realized I could use this illness excuse to my advantage. “The sun was hurting my eyes. Maybe I am coming down with something.”

  “Do you want to go home?” she asked, looking worried.

  “No. I’m feeling okay right now. It’ll probably blow over.”

  “Maybe you should cancel tonight with Joe.”

  I’d considered that too, but I wanted to see him one last time before my visit with Kate. I wouldn’t be coming back to Henryetta tomorrow afternoon.

  I’d be catching a bus to Oklahoma. And if things went as badly as I feared, I wouldn’t be coming back at all.