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Authors: Earlene Fowler

State Fair (9 page)

BOOK: State Fair
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“What?”
I described the incident in the parking lot between Dodge and Jazz. When I finished, she waited a moment before speaking.
“That is touchy territory,” she said, smoothing down one black eyebrow. “Jazz is an adult, even if she seems like a kid to us. She has the right to see whomever she wants.”
“But Dodge Burnside is big-time trouble.”
“Still, I’m not sure it’s our place to tattle to Levi. It’s not like she’s under age, which would be an entirely different story.”
I nodded my head, wishing she wasn’t right. “I guess I’m being overprotective. Maybe she’ll tell Justin and he can talk to Dodge. So tell me, what’s the deal with that? I thought she and Cal—”
Maggie held up her hands. “Girlfriend, don’t even get me started on this younger generation and their capricious dating habits.”
I laughed. “Younger generation, my foot. You’re not that much older than Jazz.”
Maggie joined my laughter. “I can’t imagine trying to juggle dating three men. I’d have enough problems with one.”
“Amen, Sister Maggie.”
We parted ways at the entrance to the hospitality suite.
“I’ll see you at the cattle drive tomorrow morning,” she said. “We’re supposed to meet at the Golden Hill Auto Center on Highway 46. You know, the GMC dealer.”
“That’s where Daddy bought his last truck. Mark gave him a good deal. He’s a nice guy, though more than once he’s tried to talk me out of my little Ford pickup. I’ll be there with my spurs on.”
The security guard at the door to the Bull Pen, used only on concert nights, nodded at my all access badge and waved me through. Upstairs, the hospitality suite was hat to boots crowded with people, most of whom I knew. It took me almost ten minutes to cross the room to the bar and order a Coke. There was no sign of Gabe, but the suite had three rooms, not to mention the outside patio where padded seats overlooked the Sierra Vista arena. People’s loud laughter, the buzz of shouted conversation, the stifling heat, mingled perfume scents and Rifle Shot’s bone-rattling drums and bass guitar were already starting to make my head throb. I contemplated my options. The air would be fresher on the patio, but the band would also be louder.
“Hey, Benni! Here’s a spot.” Levi waved me over, pointing to an empty bar stool at the curve of the long bar. I inched my way over to him.
“Hey, Levi,” I said, hopping up on the bar stool. I felt a whoosh of cool air and looked up. The stool was situated right underneath an air-conditioner vent. “Wow, coolest seat in the house. Literally. Thanks.”
He smiled down at me and sipped at some kind of clear drink. “Yes, it is. I figured that out right off. How’s the fair treating you so far?” His mouth turned down naturally at the corners, usually giving his resting expression a hint of sadness. But tonight he was all smiles.
“I pig-wrangled this morning. Brought back lots of memories. Can you believe how long we’ve been coming to this fair?”
He shook his head, running a hand along the side of his short, graying hair. He wore creased dark slacks, a white short sleeve Western shirt and a Western string tie made from a shiny chunk of obsidian. A splattering of tiny dark freckles dusted his light brown cheeks.
He said something, but Rifle Shot had apparently decided to close their set with a spirited rendition of “The Devil Went down to Georgia.” He leaned closer and said in my ear. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m exhausted already. I’m looking forward to the fair being over.”
I put my finger to my lips and smiled. “The music lineup is great!” I turned up the volume in my voice, trying to be heard over the crowd. Any thought I had of telling him about his daughter and her confrontation with Dodge Burnside wasn’t going to happen here. Maybe I’d drop by his office tomorrow and talk to him under quieter circumstances.
“Thanks!” he yelled back.
It was impossible to carry on a decent conversation, so I waved good-bye and went outside to find my seat on the terrace. Gabe was already there, sipping bottled water.
“Crazy in there,” he said, draping his arm around me.
“Pretty crazy out here too,” I added.
Eventually, Rifle Shot finished their set and Kathy Mattea took the stage. She performed many of her hits and most of my favorites, but I especially loved it when her songs became more bluegrassy, her lyrics a tribute to the coal-mining part of Kentucky. They always touched something inside me, especially her rendition of the haunting “You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive.” The song always brought tears to my eyes, reminding me of the pain and exhilaration of being young, of Jack’s strong, beautiful forearms and how life never stays the same. Before we knew it, the concert was over. We wandered back inside the hospitality suite, talking to Emory and Elvia. It was a little past ten o’clock.
“Great show,” I said, yawning. “But I’m ready to call it a night.”
“Me too,” Elvia said, catching my yawn. “I can’t believe we used to stay out until one or two in the morning.”
“Me neither. I’m going to hit the ladies’ room before we drive home.”
“Good idea.”
After I washed my hands, I told Elvia I’d wait for her out in the hallway. It was quieter there and I was enjoying the respite from the noise when I overheard Milt Piebald’s voice. It was sharp and low, coming from the partially open door leading to a set of outside stairs that ended inside the arena.
“Yeah, well, he was never my choice. He may be
real
sorry he ever got the job.”
My heart beat faster at his words. My first thought was of Levi. Milt had been appointed by the governor to the fair board five years ago and so had been involved in the hiring of the fair manager. Who was he talking
to
? I inched closer to the door, hoping to hear more when Elvia came out of the restroom. She looked around, then spotted me at the end of the hall. When she started walking toward me, I held up my hand for her to stop and hurried over to her.
“What were you doing over there?” she asked.
“Tell you later,” I whispered, looping my arm through hers and pulling her back into the noisy hospitality suite. In the ten minutes we were powdering our noses, our husbands had been shanghaied by one slightly tipsy ex-talk-show host and rodeo queen.
“Hey there, girls!” Juliette’s voice trilled when we walked up. “I’ve been telling your gorgeous husbands here how much I loved Kathy’s show.” She placed her hand on Gabe’s shoulder. Her heels were so high she actually looked down into his eyes. She wore glittery silver eye shadow that should have made her look cheap but didn’t. “Didn’t you just
love
Kathy?”
Milt walked up next to her, his red cheeks shiny in the room’s bright can lights, an ingratiating smile frozen on his face. He wore a black cowboy shirt with black piping, black slacks and gray sharkskin boots that probably cost more than a good ranch horse. He was one of those thick-necked men who looked like they’ve never eaten anything but blood rare steaks their whole lives.
“Ms. Mattea was great,” Gabe said, winking at me before ducking away from Juliette’s hand and deftly moving out of her range.
“We met her before her show,” Juliette said. “She’s just a little thing. But celebrities always look so much smaller in person. She was just as nice as could be. If I still had my television show, I’d’ve asked her for an interview.” Her usually well-modulated voice was shrill. She flashed an irritated look at Milt, who seemed to be ignoring her.
“She’s quite a gal,” Milt said. “Worth every penny.” He gave a husky laugh. “Well, maybe not every penny.”
Juliette pushed her face close to mine. “Milt wanted to pay her less. Her agent almost canceled. So embarrassing.” I moved back slightly, trying to be polite, but getting a sour whiff of whatever it was she’d been drinking.
“Well, I’m bushed,” I said, coughing. “Guess we’ll see you all tomorrow at the cattle drive.” Or maybe not.
Somebody
might be waking up with a big ole hangover tomorrow.
“We’re riding our new cutting horses,” Milt said. “Bought them in Wyoming last fall. Cost me almost as much as Juliette’s spa treatments in Jackson Hole.”
“Milt, shut up,” she said, her voice sharp, like the alcohol had suddenly dissipated. Just as quickly, her tone became neutral again. “I love my new horse, Sugarpie. I swear she reads my mind.”
Milt gave a loud snort. “Short trip.”
Juliette’s face turned scarlet and there was an awkward silence.
I glanced at Elvia whose expression was blank, but I was sure she was thinking the same thing I was:
Let me out of here!
Though Juliette wasn’t exactly a friend, I didn’t like seeing her humiliated.
“We’ll see you all tomorrow morning bright and early,” I said, keeping my voice light.
At the bottom of the stairs, in front of the grandstand stadium, Gabe and I parted ways with Elvia and Emory. Though Elvia and I were dying to talk about what just happened, we agreed to rehash it tomorrow.
“I want to check on the museum’s booth again,” I told Gabe. We passed by Mustang Sallie’s, which, though it was ten forty-five, still had a long line. “If it wasn’t so late I’d get a fried Oreo. I used to be able to eat stuff like that any time of day or night. Now I’d be awake until three a.m. mainlining Pepcid AC.”
“Welcome to adulthood,” Gabe said.
At the museum’s booth we were surprised to find only Jazz working.
“What’re you doing here alone?” I asked. It was absolutely against our co-op rules.
She rang up a purchase, thanked the customer, then turned back to me. “Marnie was supposed to work with me, but her boyfriend wanted her to go to Salinas with him. They’re picking up some part for his truck. A door, I think. No worries.”
No worries, indeed. Obviously the incident in the parking lot this afternoon hadn’t rattled her as much as it had me. “We’ll stay with you and help you close up,” I said, glancing at Gabe, who nodded in agreement.
“Don’t need to,” she said in a brisk tone.
I ignored her irritation. After what happened this afternoon, there was no way I was going to let her walk to her car by herself at midnight despite the fact that hundreds of people would be leaving at the same time.
“We don’t mind—” Before I could finish, I heard Gabe greet Justin.
“Why aren’t you working, Officer Piebald?” Gabe’s baritone voice was low and businesslike.
In the bright lights of the booth, we watched Justin’s face turn a dull red. “Uh, I . . . have the night off? I could . . . I mean if you need me to . . .”
“Oh, stop it, Gabe,” I said, lightly smacking my husband’s upper arm. “He’s teasing you, Justin.”
Gabe grinned, corroborating my words.
“See, you guys can go home now,” Jazz said. “Justin will stay with me until the fair closes, won’t you?”
His adoring expression told us that he’d stay with her for the entire month if she’d let him. “No prob. I’ll make sure she gets to her car safely.”
“Good man,” Gabe said, clapping the young man on his shoulder. “Carry on.”
On our walk back to his Corvette, I teased Gabe. “Good man? Carry on? What, are you studying to be Prince Charles? You’re watching way too much PBS.”
He grabbed my waist, tickling me until my screams for him to stop made people start to look strangely at us.
“You’re ruining your reputation for being a staid, uptight police chief,” I said, still laughing while he unlocked the Corvette’s passenger door.
“For tickling my wife? I’ll take that risk.”
By midnight we were in bed with Scout happily snoring at our feet. Six a.m. was going to come way too early.
“Any news about the stolen quilt?” Gabe asked, as he punched his pillow.
“Now that you mention it, I didn’t see Hud at the concert. He’s the one who would know. I’m sure glad Justin was there to walk Jazz back to her car. That Burnside kid worries me.”
Gabe lay back on the cool sheets, stretching out his naked body. Though San Celina was usually twenty degrees cooler than Paso, it was still August and warm. I had also shed all of my clothes and lay next to him on the pale blue sheets.
“It’s just kids being kids,” he said. “Remember how we were at that age? Every relationship seemed so important, so intense. They’ll work it out.”
I contemplated his answer, not certain I agreed with him. He hadn’t seen how angry Dodge had been.
“I’ve decided to tell Levi about it tomorrow, even if Jazz gets mad. I mean, it’s really my responsibility, not Katsy’s or Maggie’s, because I was the one who witnessed it.”
“Your call,” Gabe murmured, almost asleep.
I stared down at our legs resting next to each other. It had always amazed me how opposite our skin colors were—his copper-colored legs covered with black hair and my pale, almost translucent skin. For some reason I loved looking at the contrast. I turned on my side and ran my foot down his leg, feeling the coarse hair under my foot.
“I’m tired,” he murmured, his eyes closed. Then he smiled. “But not
that
tired.”
“Friday, I’ll save your pride. I
am
that tired. Besides we have an early morning cattle drive.”
I pulled my foot back and turned on my back, staring at the intricate patterns the moon made shining through our lacy curtains. As I listened to his breathing slow down and move into sleep, I lay awake, suddenly fearful, though I didn’t really understand why. I stared at the spiderweb patterns until the moon moved on and the ceiling disappeared into darkness. It was only then that I realized I’d forgotten to tell Gabe about Milt’s ominous words.
CHAPTER 4
BOOK: State Fair
3.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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