Something Bad (28 page)

John smiled. Not such a bad guy, he thought.

“But we’re getting off the point,” Thibideaux said. “I need to know the best way to communicate my information to the citizens.”

“You should call a town meeting. I can set it up for you, if you want. I can do it right away. I know the right people.”

“That would be very kind.”

John shifted his weight onto his left leg. “So what do you think about what people are saying about the families that have been killed? It’d sure make bickering for land easier and cheaper, wouldn’t you admit?”

“These are unfortunate incidents—ones that an unscrupulous land speculator could easily use to his advantage. I’ll promise you I’m not of that mettle. In fact, my opinion is that negotiations should be initiated with families that are currently in residence in the appropriate corridor of land. I’ll even go one step further to prove my integrity. Since your son has a farm in what you call the best route, I’ll include in my report that your son should be the one with whom negotiations begin. That way, you can be sure all dealings will be in your son’s best interests, and the poor families of the departed will also get fair deals. Would that put your mind at ease?”

The broad smile on John’s face answered in the affirmative.

“Okay, Mr. Johnson. Shall we set up a town meeting to bring some good news to the community?”

“There are people around here who think you’re up to no good, so a town meeting would be the best way to set them straight.”

“And can I count on your support for my proposals?” Thibideaux said.

“You’ve been up front with me today and I appreciate it.” John’s eyebrows arched high and he gave a firm nod. “I’ll let the others know I stand behind you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Johnson. Now, I have a favor to ask of you. Please don’t discuss our conversation with anyone else prior to the town meeting. I still have some details to work out and a disclosure could jeopardize the whole plan, including the part that involves your son. Can we keep this between us until the town meeting?”

John’s chest expanded with more than an inhalation. “We sure can. My lips are sealed. I swear to God.” He drew a cross on his chest.

“Good. Then I won’t take any more of your time. I’ll be in touch if I need further advice.” Thibideaux pivoted and shuffled in the direction of the rectory.

John walked toward the café with a bounce in his step. He couldn’t believe how he had misjudged Thibideaux, or Mr. Thibideaux. His mind spun off in a daydream. He was a feudal lord in the Middle Ages who had just formed an alliance with his main competitor to build an insurmountably strong force to dominate all aggressors and thoroughly intimidate all others.

His mind returned to the present and he visualized a business adjacent to the off ramp of a busy freeway. He double-timed his gait.

The first challenge to his pledge of secrecy lay ahead. The fight of ego versus promise was one more people lost than won. The house odds were heavily stacked in favor of the former. For the first time in his life, John Johnson beat the odds.

“You folks know about the town meeting?” John Johnson announced from his perch on the general store bench. “I know what it’s about, but I can’t tell you. Mr. Thibideaux wants me to keep it quiet for reasons that’ll be told at the meeting.”

John knew he didn’t have to publicize the meeting. Not with the rumor mill and the subject of the meeting. But it didn’t hurt to point out his special relationship with Thibideaux to the “common folk.”

He was about to command another greeting when a Ford Taurus bearing State Government markings and plates pulled up in front of the general store and came to a jerky halt. Two men in starched white shirts got out and approached John.

“Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me were I can find Wes Worthing?” the taller of the two said.

John flinched. He hated Wes. He doesn’t deserve to be so important, he thought. “Wes lives at the southeastern edge of Herndon County. You had to pass the turn-off to get this far. What’s your business with Wes? Maybe I can help you. Save you some time and trouble.” He stood up and tugged upward on his belt. “Name’s John Johnson.”

“We’ve been sent by Senator Ambrose. She’s still mourning the loss of Preston Cunningham. Mr. Cunningham came to her a few months ago to inquire about a freeway connection through the Tri-counties. At the time, there weren’t any plans, but following his death, the idea grew on the senator, not only as a way to enhance the economy in the area, but also to honor Mr. Cunningham. She wants to prepare a report for consideration by the full legislature. We’re here to gauge the feasibility, look for the best route, and estimate the cost. We need to submit a report in the next few months and we need to initiate our research with Wes Worthing’s help.”

John stepped down from the porch. “Wes ain’t the one you need to talk to. Mr. Thibideaux’s been putting together the report for the past several months. I’m helping him. You can find him over there in the church rectory.” He pointed with his index and pinky fingers extended in parallel. He’d seen some rich guy on an infomercial point that way and he thought it looked authoritative. “I can take you over and give you an introduction.”

The shorter man stepped forward. “I’m sorry, Mister … Jackson, was it? We don’t know anything about this man you’re talking about. He isn’t working for the State and he certainly hasn’t been hired to do any work on a freeway connection in these parts as far as we know.”

“It’s Johnson. Mr. Thibideaux’s an independent consultant. See here. Here’s his card.” John pulled out his tattered map, one fold of which held Thibideaux’s card. He didn’t give it to them. He held it at arm’s length so they could read it.

The two men looked at each other and the shorter one shrugged. “I’m sorry, but I’ve never heard of this Mr. Thibideaux. Maybe he’s been hired by someone other than the State. If so, we’ll have no interest in talking with him. We’ve been charged to work through Wes Worthing and no one else.” He looked down the road in the direction they came. “If you could give us directions to his place, we’d be grateful. And while you’re at it, can you suggest a good place to spend the night? We’ve had other business today and we’ve been on the road since early morning.”

John’s gut sent a signal upward that was half nausea and half fear. His voice cracked through the directions.

When the men were gone, he released his weight from a foot above the porch bench and came down on the seat with a thud. His imagination returned to the Middle Ages. His alliance with the feudal lord was really a hoax designed to take his land and people, with or without a fight.

“I wonder what the little bastard is up to,” he said out loud. “I’ll get him tonight.”

He sat on the bench for a half-hour, oblivious to the comings and goings of the town folk, and then jumped to his feet. “I got it. The bastard’s got to be working for Rother County. They must be trying to mess with our chances of building the shunt so they can have it.”

He paced, mumbling. He could get the little jerk at the town meeting. This was even better than an alliance with the little bastard. He could expose Thibideaux’s plan and save the Tri-counties from a Rother double-cross. In front of all the people. Maybe it was time for Wes to step down as Chairman of the Corporation. Mr. John Johnson would be interested in the post.

On the way home, he envisioned an audience with the King. He revealed the backhanded plan of his former ally, the ruthless feudal lord, and the King dispatched a legion of his best knights to deal with the aggressor. Lord Johnson was knighted for his insight and bravery. As he neared home, the new Sir John Johnson sought the hand, and more, of the damsel, Miss Misty Rondelunas, and the all-too-real daydream went into the gutter, just where Sir John wanted it at that moment.

G
ABE DIRECTED
W
ANNA
as she put Deena Lee’s suitcase in Gabe’s room.

“Why ain’t you going on a honeymoon?” Wanna said. “You made it all the way to Chicago and back. You could take them away for a while. I can take care of things here.”

“You’ve done enough already.” Gabe was still amazed. She had pulled everything together so fast—rounded up so many friends there hadn’t been enough space in Deena Lee’s hospital room. Good thing the hospital had a good-sized chapel. Wanna even had rings. “I still got some business to take care of. We’ll celebrate it after things slow down in the fall. How’s Doc surviving?”

“What did he expect, coming in there with that new girl on his arm?” Wanna said. “How were we to know it was his niece?”

“How long before word gets around?”

Wanna smiled. “The bad spreads faster than the good. He can expect to be on the shit list for a week or two. He’s on my A-list for dumping that Misty, though. He needs a good woman.”

Gabe poked her in the side. “I saw you looking at him during the ceremony. You sure did a spin around on him.”

“Shut up, Gabe.”

“Get him while he’s on the rebound—”

Wanna swung and her knuckles dug into his bicep.

“Dang.” Gabe grabbed his arm and took a step back. “You gave me a muscle bump.” He rubbed the spot like he was trying to erase the pain. “Must be something to it for you to react like that.”

“There’s more to it, but it don’t have to do with Doc.” She leaned around and looked down the hall. “Where’s Deena Lee and the baby?”

“Both taking a nap in her room.”

Wanna grabbed Gabe’s shirt and pulled him into the kitchen. “We got to talk about the pregnancy. Now! We can’t wait any longer.”

Gabe rolled his eyes.

“Dammit, Gabe. I’ve been putting on weight lately.”

“That’s because you’re eating everything in the kitchen. I’m about to lock up the animals.”

“I’m serious. I’m eating for two.” She ran her hands over her still-flat stomach. “And any day now, my belly’s going to take over and grow without the rest of me. Then it’ll be obvious. We need to get a story down.”

Gabe walked over to the sink and leaned to look out the window. “Sorry. I’ve been preoccupied with the Chicago trip and the town meeting. And Thibideaux.” He turned and faced her. “You can say what you want and I’ll go with it.”

“You think this is easy on me? I’ve been worrying about it something fierce. The least you can do is help with it.”

Gabe prepared for the outburst. The freshly stropped edge of a good razor couldn’t compare to the cutting edge of her tongue, so he braced himself for a slice or two.

“Please,” she said. Her eyes were moist.

This was serious. “Okay. I’m sorry. What have you got for an explanation?”

“I thought I could say I had a man up in Rother who claimed to be in love, but when I got pregnant he took off. Or, I could say that Johnny Robertson was having trouble with his wife and we got our thing going again, but that now he’s back with her.” She moved a little to cut off his stare. “What do you think?”

He scanned the ceiling, looking for inspiration. “I like the first. Better to leave the man without a name. That way, you won’t risk causing problems for Johnny Robertson, although you probably wouldn’t mind. The first one’s better because you were doing it for love—that’s noble. Him running out on you—that gets sympathy. Best leave it at that. If anyone presses you on who it was, just take the high road and refuse to ruin his life.”

“What do I put on the birth certificate? What name do I put down?”

“It’ll be a Petersen. Do like I did with Cory Dean.”

Wanna put her hand on Gabe’s arm, just below his sore spot. “What if the baby has something wrong with it? What would we say then? People will get suspicious and gossipy.”

Gabe’s hands found the bottoms of his pockets. His eyes went to the ceiling again, then down to the floor. “People have known our family for some time, so maybe it’d be best to say the same problem showed up a few times in your momma’s family, and that it usually skipped a few generations. You knew the risk but it happened so rare you didn’t think anything of it. That do it?”

“Damn, Gabe. Why’d you wait so long to talk it out?” She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a tight hug. “I’m still a nervous wreck, but at least I’ll be able to talk it through.”

Gabe returned her hug and then peeled her arms from his shoulders. “Don’t get so worked up. Mark my words. You’ll see the silly in your reactions when you look back on them. Now, I need to get the barn cleaned. Remember, if anything strange happens, get on the supper bell right away. I’ll be here in a shake.”

She followed him to the back door. “You know the way you are with Cory Dean? Will you be like that with ours?”

Gabe turned around and stiffened. Her look was intense, but he couldn’t place it other than that. Was she jealous about his acceptance of little Cory Dean? He stepped up on the porch and gathered her into a hug. “You know I will.” He smiled. “Just quit worrying. Try to relax and enjoy life.”