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Blood Ties - A Magnolia Novel Page 7
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LiAnn followed her mother to the small kitchen and helped put away the food and clear the dishes. She could hear her father in the other room, talking to Karina and cooing to Ranger. The sound of the big dog’s tail as it thumped a loud echo on the hardwood floor. The verbal sparring about the best handgun to use between her daughter and father made LiAnn smile.
“Got your room all fixed up. If ya need another blanket, they’re in the bathroom closet. Oh, and the truck with your belongin’s will be here tomorrow. So, don’t you and Karina fret none about workin’ around here tomorrow. Y’all be busy unpackin’ for a few days, I suspect. Your daddy and I will handle the day-to-day chores until you two get all settled in. Okay?”
LiAnn looked at her mother’s face and saw the sternness she recalled from her youth. She also saw the cloudiness from cataracts overshadowing the blue of her eyes. Heavy wrinkles were etched deep into her face, the once-full lips thin and drawn. LiAnn couldn’t find the words to respond, so she simply nodded in agreement. She hugged her mom’s frail body with a gentle embrace and kissed her cheek, then headed straight to her room.
Once settled under the covers, LiAnn was too wired to sleep. Even though they’d arrived under the cover of darkness, she couldn’t help but notice the decrepit state of her parents’ farm. The once immaculate front yard, dotted with a vibrant white fence and overflowing with flowers, was gone. Several sections of the fence were either broken or leaning toward the ground, the white paint but a passing memory on the aging wood. The yard needed to be mowed and the lush flowers didn’t exist anymore, replaced with nothing but dirt.
The interior of the house wasn’t much better, either. Her mother had always kept a spotless house. Now, it was full of old newspapers and a thick sheen of gray dust covered several surfaces. When LiAnn helped put away the dishes, she noticed the ones already in the cupboard weren’t entirely clean.
But the thing that bothered LiAnn the most were the fifteen bottles of medications that sat on the dining room table. That was way too much, even for two people.
She made a mental note to ask her mom when their next doctor’s appointment was so she could accompany them, and find out just why so much had been prescribed. It wasn’t like LiAnn was opposed to taking prescription meds, but the exorbitant amount she saw earlier was simply too much. Once she found out what ailments they both suffered from, she would do some research and hopefully find homeopathic versions.
When her eyelids grew heavy, LiAnn knew without a shadow of a doubt, the decision to move had been the right one.
Ranger was curled up on the floor next to Karina’s shoes, his even breathing a sure sign he was out like a light. Karina slid her glasses off and tucked them under her pillow. She tried to find a comfortable position on the worn-out mattress. It took several turns and shifting of the pillows before she gave up and just held still.
She tried to relax but it was no use. It was that smell. That same, underlying scent she’d smelled for two years. Death. Age. The mixture of must, decay, and limited body hygiene combined with cheap perfume. No matter how expensive the place, how meticulously maintained by the staff, the scent of the elderly was unmistakable.
When she stepped onto the front porch earlier, the smell slammed into her. It wasn’t as strong here as it had been when Karina worked undercover at the assisted living centers, but it was still present. It overrode the smells she recalled from her childhood from the summers spent with her grandparents. The sweet aroma of Gram’s freshly baked peach pies. The zest of the lemon-scented cleaner Gram used throughout the house. The rich, musky cherry of Grampa’s pipe. The tangy, tart aroma of the hay from the fields.
Karina’s thoughts were interrupted by the chime of her cell phone. Her heart begin to beat faster. It was Cal’s message tone. She groaned and wanted to kick herself for not turning the thing to silent. She already had enough jumbled thoughts ruminating around in her head. She didn’t need the added stress of communication from Cal. Staring at the phone on the nightstand next to her, Karina waffled back and forth, weighing the pros and cons of seeing what he sent her. Part of her wanted it to say something like Hey babe, miss you, love you or something just as equally pathetic and mushy. The other part of her wanted it to be nothing more than Hey, did you make it okay? or How’s the weather? or Say, what is the password to Quickbooks? I forgot.
Curiosity won out.
Still driving? Heard there was a big pile up on I-40 near Tulsa. You safe?
On instinct, Karina switched over to the phone’s browser and searched out the local news station for Tulsa. She spent ten minutes scouring the site and found no mention of any sort of big traffic accident. Karina let out a small grin. Her instincts had been on the mark. The little white lie was a ruse to contact her. For two minutes, she thought about what to say before she finally responded.
Must have missed the accident. In Sheridan now, all settled in.
In the dark room, she waited for a reply, wondering what Cal was thinking at the moment. Was he contemplating his own response? Did he wonder if Karina had searched out his story? Was he trying to think of some clever comeback, one that had hidden meaning? Or was Karina just fooling herself by thinking he still cared about her?
Seconds ticked by and no response came. Deciding she read way too much into the text, she flipped the phone over to silent, and put it back on its perch beside the bed.
Damn you, Calvin Benson. Damn you.
8
First Day on the Farm
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead. The moving van is here.”
The sound of her mom’s chirpy morning voice made Karina groan and pull the covers over her head. It couldn’t be morning already, for it felt like she’d just fallen asleep. She kept her eyes closed and listened to her mom move around the room. In seconds, the curtains were opened, and bright yellow rays of sunlight illuminated the small space. The vibrant sun weaved its way through the thin comforter and straight through her eyelids. “Mom! Please, close the drapes.”
“I will do no such thing. It’s after seven, and we’ve got a lot to do today. First things first, though. Your dog needs to go outside and you need to get dressed, just not in that order. The guys are already unloading my stuff and yours is next. Oh, and two of them are rather yummy looking, so you might want to freshen up first. I mean, talk about rock hard biceps and home-grown buns, goodness! Mmm, mmm.”
“Seriously, Mom?” Karina barked from under the covers. “If they’re that hot, don’t you want them all to yourself?” In a flash, the comforter disappeared as her mom flung it to the floor.
“I said there were two of them, and I’m too old to handle more than one at a time. So get up and come help unpack. Chop chop!”
With another groan of protest, Karina left the warm spot on the bed and headed to the bathroom. “You need help, Mom. Serious help. Morning people are certifiable. Look it up on the Internet.”
Once dressed and somewhat presentable, Karina made her way into the kitchen and headed straight for the coffee maker. She poured a cup, took a big swig, and winced as the stout brew slid down her throat. The taste of coffee made her nearly gag, but she loved the effect it had on her mood in the mornings. Karina glanced around the small kitchen and smiled. Some things hadn’t changed over the years.
Gram was piddling away making a pie and Grampa was seated in his favorite spot, reading the newspaper, his reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose. Her mom sat in the chair to his right, flipping through her handwritten inventory of her belongings, and the television in the corner on the counter chattered away with the local news.
“Morning. Sorry I slept so late. Had a bit of trouble getting to sleep last night.” Karina moved over and stood next to Gram, then gave her a quick kiss on her warm cheek. “That smells wonderful. Peach cobbler?”
Ruth beamed. “Yes ma’am. I recall that’s your favorite. Plus, if I didn’t use up the last of the peaches, they would rot before I had time to can them.”
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�Oh, can’t wait! Next time you decide to bake one, will you let me know? I want to take notes so I can learn how to make one, too.”
“Notes? Honey, you don’t learn to cook by takin’ notes! You just go by instinct and taste,” Ruth said, shaking her head at Karina’s comment.
“Leave her be, Ruth. Let the girl learn however she sees fit. If that means writin’ things down, then that’s how it will be.”
Karina flashed a warm smile at Grampa, then walked over and placed a kiss on his forehead. “Morning.”
“Excuse us, but will one of y’all fine people direct us to where y’all want this?”
All eyes turned to the doorway. Karina nearly choked on a gasp when she saw two men holding her mom’s dresser at each end. Her mom had been right on target. Between the thick, honey colored hair, bulging biceps and white t-shirts stretched across their muscled-up backs, these two guys were smoking hot! And they were twins. Duplicated hunks with thighs the size of tree trunks and tight, yet small, rounded butts. No wonder her mom insisted she get cleaned up before she walked out of her room. Karina forced her gaping mouth closed.
LiAnn bestowed them a dazzling smile. “Oh, sure thing. That’s my dresser. Just set it next to the other boxes in my room.”
“Yes ma’am,” both hunks said in unison, their voices in perfect harmony together. In a flash, they were gone.
Karina looked over at her mom and mouthed Oh, my God! Her mom replied with a silent wink and slight nod of her head. “Guess I better go, um, point them in the right direction for my stuff.” Before anyone could say anything, Karina was out of the kitchen and following the two gorgeous physiques down the hall.
Maybe living in the South won’t be so bad after all. Sweet Jesus, what do they feed people down here to grow asses that round and firm?
“Hmmph. Guess this means our little gal ain’t pinin’ over her breakup with her beau any longer,” Junior remarked.
LiAnn laughed. “You don’t miss a thing, do you?”
“Honey, if I missed that raw display of attraction, it would mean I’m blind and deaf. I mean, the girl practically fell all over herself tryin’ to follow the backsides of those boys,” Junior replied.
LiAnn giggled. “I guarantee you, she isn’t thinking about Calvin Benson at the moment. Hopefully, she never will again. Slime ball.”
“Do I detect a bit of protective momma bear instinct in your voice?” Ruth asked while sliding the pie into the oven.
“Let’s just say, it’s a good thing we are here and not in L.A. any longer. On the trip down, Karina finally told me what happened between the two of them. None of it was good. Their breakup wasn’t just because of lack of contact, or drifting apart while she was on assignment.”
LiAnn watched her mother walk with slow, calculated steps across the hardwood floor, then ease down in the chair next to her. She heard the crackle of the newspaper as her dad closed it.
“Hmmm. Did the wolf sneak in and play with another hen in the chicken coop?” Junior grumbled.
LiAnn sighed, then lowered her voice. “Yes, that’s exactly what happened while Karina was on that undercover assignment. And with her closest friend. To make matters worse, Karina caught them together. Really knocked her for a loop. It’s one thing to find out you’re being cheated on. It’s quite another to actually see it happen right in front of you. I think she always had it in the back of her mind she would be Mrs. Calvin Benson someday. Made the situation even harder to grapple with.”
A shadow of sadness crossed Ruth’s face. “Ain’t nothin’ more painful than being cheated on. Watched my fair share of friends struggle with it durin’ my lifetime. Some of them never recovered from it. Took the wind right outta their sails. But, don’t you worry none, honey. Karina’s in the right place to heal–with her family.”
Junior interjected. “I’d say the scab’s pretty thick, based on what I just saw. Karina didn’t look like a wounded bird to me. You two need to quit worryin’ about her. She comes from tough stock. My little spitfire ain’t gonna let some mangy mongrel ruin her life. No way. You didn’t.”
LiAnn swallowed hard and gathered her thoughts before she spoke. “No, I didn’t break, but I wasn’t ever the same again, either.”
Junior’s face softened. “I told ya years ago, but you wouldn’t listen. Knew the minute I laid my eyes on him he was trouble, just like I did with Karina’s father. One may have been a crook and the other a cop, but cheaters come in all types of packages. And they all have the same look behind their eyes. It’s called lust.”
LiAnn bit her lip before she said something she regretted. The subject of her ugly breakup with Crigger was not a topic she wished to discuss, and certainly not with her parents. Even after all the years, it seemed some strong, negative feelings about Crigger, and Kurt, still lurked about.
She wouldn’t stick up for Kurt because she agreed one-hundred percent with her parents on that front. But Crigger? That was a different story. Her parents only knew what she had told them, not the entire truth. And the truth was, her relationship with Crigger was way more complicated than cheater and cheatee. “Well, it’s all water under the bridge now. Hopefully, we both learned from our mistakes and won’t make the same ones again. I can’t speak for my daughter, but I can say that I have no interest in dating. I’m set in my ways now, since I’ve been single for so long. Besides, with all that needs to be done around here, when would I have time?”
LiAnn stood and went to the counter and poured another cup of coffee. Her father grumbled something under his breath, but she couldn’t make it out. Her attention was focused on the television set and the scrolling headline. Intrigued, LiAnn turned up the volume.
…Shane Simmons was denied bail this morning by Circuit Court Judge Henry Paxton. He was formally charged with first degree murder in the grisly death of Raymond “Ray-Ray” D’Nucci, along with kidnapping, aggravated robbery, and arson. His girlfriend, Renee Clements, was also charged as an accessory in the case. The investigation concluded Ms. Clements helped dispose of the gun and set fire to Mr. D’Nucci’s residence, and tried to sell some of Mr. D’Nucci’s jewelry at a pawn shop in Little Rock.
His funeral is set for Saturday at three p.m. at St. Michael’s Church in Hot Springs….
LiAnn shook her head in disgust as she turned the volume back down. “Guess it doesn’t matter where you live, crime never takes a break.”
Ruth’s brows crushed together with sadness. “Oh, it’s been awful. Been all over the news the last few days. An ugly, ugly mess. Course, crime always is. The news report yesterday said the girl used to date the young man, and knew he had money and lots of jewelry. Got her new beau to help her relieve her ex of some of his stuff, then I guess things went bad from there. They robbed him, shot him, cut him up, and torched his place. The report said only some of his burnt body was recovered at the scene. Such a shame. People killin’ each other over material things. What’s this world comin’ to? Ain’t they ever heard of workin’ for what they want?”
LiAnn queried, “He was dismembered? Oh, wow, that isn’t something you hear often. Sounds more like a mob tactic to me. With a last name like D’Nucci, it would make sense. Then again, if it were a mob hit, there would be no corpse left to find. But, judging by the looks of the mugshots, those two surely aren’t in the Mafia. I’d say drugs were involved. They both had that zombie-meth look. Can’t tell you how many cases our division worked that centered on drugs. Meth is the worst of them. People turn their brains to mush on the stuff, and don’t care how they come by cash to buy more. I don’t know of one state that isn’t suffering because of the white poison.”
Ruth fiddled with the kerchief around her neck. “Just last month, there were over five arrests here in Grant County alone. People cookin’ that mess out in the woods. One of the labs even blew up and burned over ten acres, less than twenty miles from here. Scary times, indeed.”
Junior scowled. He dropped the newspaper from his hands and went to get more coffee.
“That’s the reason I quit huntin’. Time was when I could traipse around them woods without a care in the world, except keepin’ myself quiet and hidden from the critters I was after. Now, you walk up on the wrong place and find yourself in the middle of a war zone.”
“Is it really that bad, and that close?” LiAnn said a silent prayer of thanks at her father’s decision to stay home and safe.
“Oh yes,” Junior replied, then took a heavy swig of coffee. “Why, just last year, ol’ Cecil Pickard got shot and almost died. He was settin’ up his deer stand, on his own property mind you, when two hoodlums attacked him. Beat him up pretty bad, tryin’ to scare him into leavin’ and never comin’ back. But ol’ Pick, if ya recall, honey, is stubborn as a mule with its butt stuck in the mud. He let that mouth of his take over. That’s when they shot him and left him for dead. It’s only by the grace of God he’s still pullin’ in air. His son got worried when he didn’t come back home that night. Went out searchin’ for him, found him, and then hauled him to the hospital. Doc said one more hour and it woulda been lights out for good.”
A wave of anger hit LiAnn right in the gut. Though it had been years since she’d seen Mr. Pickard, she knew how close her father was to him. The two men grew up together and even joined the Navy on the same day. To say Cecil Pickard was her father’s closest friend would have been an understatement. “Poor Cecil! Did the police catch the shooter?”
Junior shook his head. “Nope. Word around town is them boys are connected to some high rankin’ muckety-mucks who’s keepin’ them safe from payin’ for their crimes. Don’t rightly know if that’s true or not, but I ain’t takin’ no chances. My huntin’ days are over.”
LiAnn looked out the window into the back yard and out toward the barn. She noticed no cows or horses out back, which was odd. On their last visit, there had been at least ten head of cattle and several horses. “Is that why you don’t have livestock anymore, Pop?”