Chapter Ten

The Dixon clan gathered at the home of Lamar and Katharine, Link's parents, for a Sunday evening get together. Maggie and Link's four sisters—Beth, Kathy, Gwen Phifer and Fran Gamble—helped their mother prepare what appeared enough food for an army. When he looked around, he thought that might be about right. The dining table was set for sixteen, plus the kids' table in the kitchen. He figured Uncle Finis and Aunt Sue must be coming, but didn't know who the other extra places were for.

The phone rang, and Link tensed. In Dallas, a phone call often meant canceling plans. He relaxed. Bottom of the totem pole deputies didn’t get tracked down on Sunday afternoon in Cartersville.

His mother answered. But her facial expression broadcast the fact that the call brought disturbing news. She hung up and hurried over to Link.

"That was your Aunt Sue. Bubba hasn't come home and she doesn't know where he is. She wants you to go find him, make sure he's okay, and bring him here for dinner."

Link said, "I thought Bubba was in the Marines."

"He was discharged and came home last week. He’s looking for a job. He has an interview at eight in the morning."

"Mom, he's a grown man.”

His mother's eyes pleaded with him to do something. Hell, he knew this meant trouble.

He protested, “I’m not his keeper.”

She just stood there, giving him the look.

How did mothers learn that? How old did sons have to be before it lost its effect? "What am I supposed to do?"

He heard her answering sigh of relief. "Sue said Virgil Lee called Bubba right after lunch. She thinks they might have met up somewhere. She's afraid they'll get drunk and the hangover will ruin Bubba’s chances at his job interview tomorrow."

Link looked around the crowded family room. His father and Link’s brother-in-law Robert Gamble were locked in a chess game. His brother-in-law Forrest Phifer caught his eye and ambled over. Forrest would be Link’s first choice for this job anyway. The tall, quiet man was dependable and quick thinking. And fun.

"Need some company?" Forrest asked and pushed a hand over his brown hair.

"Lord, yes. A sane head is always welcome when you're dealing with crazies like Bubba and Virgil Lee."

The two took Link's Jeep. Forrest suggested they start at Wally's Bar and Grill on the edge of town. Annoyed as Link was at their errand, it felt good to be out with Forrest again. They’d been friends since grade school, and Link had been a happy man when his sister Gwen and Forrest had wed.

Link hadn’t been to Wally’s since college. Wally’s parking lot was crowded, mostly with pickup trucks and motorcycles. “This place never changes. Still as seedy inside?”

“More,” Forrest said. “Hasn’t been painted that I know of. I do Wally’s taxes, and the place is a mint.”

Link said, “There’s Bubba’s battered old truck covered with that stupid camouflage paint.”

“Reckon deer are fooled by that pattern?” Forrest asked.

Link laughed. “Must not be. Can’t remember Bubba ever bagging a deer. He’s gotta be a good shot after all that Marine training.”

“Beer improve his aim?”

“Probably not. Explains a lot, though, doesn’t it?”

They stopped just inside the room while Link peered through the thick haze of smoke to search for his two rebel kin.

"There they are, in the corner past the billiard table," he said.

Forrest said, "Damn, look at the beer bottles lined up in front of them."

On Sundays, Wally's couldn't serve liquor until after twelve noon. Link checked the time on the big Coors clock over the bar. Half past five. If Virgil Lee and Bubba started early this afternoon, they'd had plenty of time to get truly snockered.

Link had already seen more of Virgil Lee than he cared to, but it appeared he’d have to confront him again. "Hell, why did Bubba have to hook up with Virgil Lee right off the bat?"

"Birds of a feather and all that.” Forrest said.

“At least Bubba’s not a mean drunk like Virgil Lee.”

Forrest glanced around the room, his brown eyes wary. “He’s the only one. Crowd doesn’t look too friendly. Glad I’m with the guy who has a gun.”

Link snorted. "As if I'm the only one in this crowd who's carrying. More likely you’re the only one who’s not. Let’s keep it low key if we can. I don't want to do the deputy sheriff bit unless it looks like we have a fight on our hands."

"You bet. Gwen would hate it if I got this gorgeous mug messed up. You got a plan?" Forrest asked.

"Not even the start of one. Virgil Lee's probably still mad at me for arresting him a few days ago."

Forrest chuckled. "Big Momma's probably madder.”

“Now that’s the truth. How she manages to get Virgil Lee out of jail and all charges dropped is more than I can figure. It’s like we’re in the back woods a hundred years ago or something.”

“Bet she knows where the bodies are buried. That woman scares me spitless."

Link chuckled. "Isn't that the truth? Woman's three husbands probably chose death to escape her."

“And how would you like to marry a widow and have her keep her first husband’s name?”

“Would make me mad as hell. She says it makes family less confusing.”

Forrest said, "Wouldn't surprise me if she did them in because they backtalked her. I tell you, I wonder how Virgil Lee gets away with all he does with that woman on his case."

That was a mystery to Link as well. Big Momma Patterson stood six feet and weighed at least three hundred pounds. He figured most people tried to avoid her. He sure as hell did.

With a glance at the crowd, Link said, "Well, let's do this and get it over with in time for Mom's pot roast."

They walked over to the corner booth.

Link said, "Hello, boys. Heard you were back in town, Bubba. How're things going here?"

"We're havin’ a little celebration. I'm back now." Bubba's slurred speech put him several drinks past driving. Or cognizance. He apparently tried to gesture toward the lined up bottles, but knocked several over with his effort. “We’re havin’ a contest, see?”

Forrest smiled. "Yeah, I see you’ve been working at it a long time.”

“You boys ride here together?" Link asked.

"We come in Bubba's truck," Virgil Lee said. "What of it?"

Though he could drink huge quantities without appearing drunk, alcohol turned Virgil rattlesnake mean. Apparently it turned Bubba into Amazing Rubber Man. He could hardly hold up his head and sprawled all over his side of the booth.

"Bubba, Aunt Sue’s worried about you. Why don't we take you boys home?"

"Okay," Bubba said and tried to slide out of the bench seat. He fell onto the table, knocking over several empty bottles. His drooping eyes widened and he called, "My God, help me. Some bastard stole my legs. Can't stand up."

"Let me help you." Forrest grabbed Bubba’s arm and pulled him out of the booth. Bubba's legs apparently refused to support him. He would have fallen if Forrest and Link hadn't caught him.

Bubba leaned his head back, as if trying to bring Forrest into focus. "Who're you?"

"Forrest Phifer. Remember, I'm married to your cousin Gwen?" Forrest slung Bubba's arm across his shoulder and supported him.

"Hey, I 'member you." Bubba gave Forrest's chest a pat. "Good ol' Forres'. You married cousin Gwen. That’s nice.” He leaned back to look at Forrest. “Hey, you 'restin' me?"

Forrest met Link's gaze and rolled his eyes. "Bubba, I'm a CPA. The most I can do is audit your books."

Several of Wally's customers inched toward the booth. None looked friendly.

Link signaled the waitress who had been watching the exchange. "Let's pay your tab and get out of here."

She handed him a ticket and waited, hand on her hip.

Link fished out the amount plus tip. "Come on, Virgil Lee. If you stay here, you won't have a way home. Besides, you'll just get in trouble if you drink any more."

Virgil Lee scowled and yelled, "I ain't ready to leave. What do you think about that?" He held on to a bottle.

Two burly men walked over from the billiard table, pool cues in hand. The largest, a man roughly the size of a Honda Civic, acted as spokesman. Unless the tattoos on Honda’s arms lied, he was ready to rumble and born to raise hell. And he loved his mother.

Honda asked, "These fellas botherin' you, Virgil Lee?"

"Hell, yes, they're bothering me. Always meddling in a man's business," Virgil Lee answered.

Link exhaled. Without releasing his hold on Bubba, he flashed his badge. "Family business. These men are my cousins."

Honda and his pal backed off but stood watching, both obviously eager to crack a pool cue over someone’s head.

Forrest said, “I’ve got Bubba. You deal with Virgil Lee.”

"You ain't taking me back to jail." Virgil Lee yelled and folded his arms across his chest.

"Never mentioned jail. Your place or Big Momma's? Your choice."

The mention of his mother brought Virgil Lee to attention. He slid out of the booth without showing any effects from the string of beers he’d consumed.

"Home. Big Momma'd skin me alive she saw I been drinking on Sunday. That woman scares the shit out of me."

Forrest shook with laughter and almost let Bubba fall.

Virgil Lee stopped and looked accusingly from Link to Forrest. "What?" he asked. "You guys making fun of me?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Link said, fighting to hide a smile. "Forrest, why don’t you drive Bubba’s truck and take him to the folks’. I’ll take Virgil Lee home. Let's get the hell out of here."

Virgil Lee’s face screwed up in anger. “I’m still pissed at you for arresting me last week. Shouldn’t interfere between a man and his wife. Nobody else’s business.”

“You think everyone should let you pound on Nadine?”

“I never mean to hurt her.” Virgil Lee’s anger subsided but he remained surly. “Maybe sometimes I lose my temper, but that’s none of your business. It’s between Nadine and me, period.”

“Grow up, Virgil Lee. You’re an alcoholic who’s a mean drunk.”

“I ‘spose the high and mighty Mr. Perfect never had a few beers?”

Link stopped and stared at his cousin. “A few? Must have been over two or three dozen bottles lined up in front of you. You sayin’ Bubba drank all of them?”

“Mind you own damn business.”

“Keeping the peace is my business, remember? Sworn to serve and protect. You know, just like a husband’s supposed to do for his wife.”

“Leave my wife out of this, I tell you! This is between you and me. You want to have it out right here in the parking lot?”

The urge to punch Virgil Lee in his mouth almost won. “Get in the damned car.”

Link pulled out his cell phone and dialed. “Nadine, this is Link. I’m bringing Virgil Lee home. He’s been drinking at Wally’s. You head on over to Big Momma’s.”