Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
King
There is no way in hell I’ve heard the girl correctly.
I damn near ask her to repeat herself, but I don’t want to give her another opening for an old-man joke.
I’ll just assume I’ve been hit by a bus and that this is some weird vision my mind has conjured in my dying moments.
That would be far preferable to what she’s suggesting.
“A threesome. With Ice Pick,” I say. “I think the fuck not.”
“We don’t actually have to go through with it,” she says with a nonchalant roll of her hand through the air. “This was just to get him alone in the RV. It was the only way to get him alone. He won’t bring Blayne if he thinks he’s getting laid.”
“So how do you propose we avoid receiving all three inches of his glory? Hmm?”
“He’ll show up, we’ll ply him with some alcohol, and then we’ll get him talking. Hopefully he loses interest once we get him on a sad subject, but my headache can get us out of it if need be.”
A knock on the RV door puts an end to any argument.
“Yes, well, if you back out, he’d best not expect me to go digging through his bush to find his cocktail frank.” I go to the door and open it. Before me stands a man who believes he’s been invited to enjoy what belongs to me.
He lifts a Walmart bag and gives it a jiggle. “I brought condoms. Petite for me, and magnum for you.”
“How do you know my dick size?” My eyebrow rises.
“Just a guess,” he says with a grin. “You kind of have a bulge in those gym shorts. It’s hard to ignore.”
I step aside and wave him in. Josie sits at the little table and bench, and she gives him a wave and a flirty smile as he enters. She motions toward the mini fridge.
“We got some Bud Light for you,” she says.
He pats his stomach and licks his lips, eyeing the RV. “I’m more of a Natural Light guy, myself. Bud Light’s a bit highbrow, but I guess I can put my pinky out when I drink it.”
He meanders toward the back and places his hands on the mattress. After a few good bounces, he stands upright, puts his hands on his hips, and nods his head. “Yep, this’ll do nicely. Plenty of space, and the short carpet makes for easy cleanup.”
Plenty of space? Cleanup? Is he planning to have a threesome or do some arts and crafts?
Actually, it’s neither, and if Josie doesn’t stop this wagon from heading for a cliff, I’ll bail and let her go down on her own. Literally.
He reaches for his belt and begins unfastening. Josie looks at me, begging for my help, but I’m more inclined to let her figure this one out for herself. Maybe next time she’ll think twice before roping me into something so ridiculous.
“Um, Ice Pick? Maybe we can hang out for a bit before we . . . Oh, wow, my head is really starting to throb. I should probably take something.”
She goes to the cabinet and retrieves some ibuprofen, which she downs dry. If anyone should have a headache right now, it’s me.
“Is it my cologne?” Ice Pick sniffs his armpits. “Charity gets a lot of headaches too.” His chin quivers. “Well, she used to. When she still had a head.”
“Come and have a seat, old man.” I pat the cushion beside me.
He shuffles over and plops down with his beer. After a few sniffles that remind me of a small child with a cold, he cracks open the can, then knocks it back with his pinky in the air.
I reach over and press the edge of the can, trying to lower it and stop him from downing too much too quickly. “Steady, old chap. You don’t want to get whiskey dick, do you?”
“Can I be honest with you two?” he says as he lowers the can.
Josie and I look at each other, then nod.
“I thought I could do this, but I don’t think I can. I’m just not over Charity yet. It doesn’t feel right.”
I place my hand over his, relief flooding me in a wave. “That’s all right. We don’t—"
“Dude, she cheated on you! Are you really going to stop yourself from enjoying a night of passion after she fucked you over?” Josie realizes what she said only once it’s left her mouth. I see the regret dawn like a fiery sunrise in her eyes.
Does she see the disbelief, rage, and annoyance going off like a mushroom cloud in mine?
“On second thought,” she says, “who am I to tell you how to grieve? You should probably take a little more time.” She reaches over and pats his arm.
He places his hand over hers. “Thanks for understanding. I sure do appreciate the offer, even if I can’t take you up on it. The thought of burying my face in them big ol’ titties started to cheer me right up.”
“That’s quite enough of that,” I whisper to myself as my hands clench into fists.
I don’t miss the way Josie pushes her breasts together as she prepares to start questioning him. A spark of anger brightens my dark heart, but I snuff it out before it can catch on kindling. Whatever keeps the bloke’s attention, I suppose.
“So what has Blayne been saying about all of this?” she says, going right to the heart of the matter. “You mentioned something about how he helps you read people. Tell me more about that.”
Ice Pick pulls his attention from Josie’s cleavage and focuses on his beer can like it might answer for him. “I don’t think I should. He said it ought to stay between us.”
“Have you forgotten what I do for a living, Ice Pick?” I splay my hands in front of me. “Discerning signals and deciphering language are my bread and butter. Blayne can tell you where the bull is, but I’m the one who can detect the bull’s shit.”
He squints for a moment, working with all his might to decipher what I’ve just said. Then he gets it, and he slaps his knee with a laugh. “You’re saying you got a good bullshit detector, but he’s just good at understanding farm animals.”
“Yes, precisely that.” Though it ruins the punchline when you explain the bloody joke, but no bother. “You could at least tell me what he’s been saying. Perhaps I can confirm any suspicions or clearances.”
Ice Pick thinks this over, then shakes his head. “I don’t know . . . I don’t think Blayne would like it.”
“I don’t think Blayne has to know,” Josie says. “It can stay between us. We just want to help you.”
He twists the beer can in his hand on the table. He takes another sip, then sighs. “He thinks it was you, King.”
Well, I didn’t expect him to spill the beans so simply. I also didn’t expect to be suggested as the culprit.
“What’s his logic? How’d he finger me?”
Ice Pick curls his lip, sending his mustache at a wonky angle. “I don’t want to know how he fingered you, buddy. That’s between the two of you.”
“What? No.” I drag my hand down my face. “How did he come to the conclusion that I was the one who betrayed your trust?”
“He’s been questioning everyone’s alibis. When Blayne went to talk to Chef, he said that he lied to Josie because you asked him to. He said he didn’t have no alibi for you.”
Josie folds her arms over her chest and sits back. “Did he, now?”
“You’ve always been so good to me, King,” Ice Pick says. “What Blayne said made my stomach hurt. I didn’t want to believe it.”
“Good! You shouldn’t believe it, and neither should you.” I pin Josie with a glare. “I’m not sure why Chef Maurice is lying, but you can be certain he is.”
“Which time?” Josie asks. “Was he lying when he said you were killing Cattle? Come to think of it, how did you get scratches on your back?”
Ice Pick sucks in a sharp breath. “Charity had fingernails!”
Josie nods as if he’s announced some relevant epiphany.
“The Cattle had fingernails, too. I had stripped down to my underwear so that I didn’t muddy up my clothes, and one of them clawed anywhere he could reach as I strangled him.
” I turn to Josie. “You saw the state of me the next morning. I’d been in the brush all night, slaughtering and disposing of evidence, not fucking my mate’s plaything. ”
Josie relaxes a bit, some of the fight gone from her eyes. She wants to believe me too.
I turn back to Ice Pick. “Did Blayne also tell you that she approached me? He was there. When he walked away, she invited me to the showers. Instead, I went to Chef’s bus after locking Josie in for the night.”
“Yeah, he did tell me. You were the one who waited this long to let me know my woman was running around behind my back.” Ice Pick groans and buries his face in his hands.
Well, I’ve made a right dog’s dinner of this entire fiasco. Let this be a lesson in the importance of immediate transparency. Now Blayne has convinced both Ice Pick and Josie to turn against me. Why in the hell would Chef lie like that?
“You two, follow me,” I say.
I slide out from behind the table and make my way to the front of the RV. Plopping down in the driver’s seat, I look at Josie and Ice Pick with my finger over my lips. When they nod, agreeing to remain silent, I raise the CB radio. After a few button mashes, I depress the side of the mic.
“RV There Yet to Burger Bus, over.”
I tap the steering wheel with my finger as static answers me. When I repeat the call a second time, he finally responds.
“I hate that stupid call sign. What do you want, King?”
“Rumor has it you decided to tell a little fib about where I was the night Charity cheated on Ice Pick. Why’d you do it, Chef?”
“Rumor has it someone other than Bennett has a food fetish, and once Blayne told me the truth, I felt no compunction to do the same. I lied and said that you weren’t killing the Cattle because I knew it would make you look guilty.”
“Blayne told you that I defiled the squash?” I ask, shocked. “How’d he come to know such a thing?”
Chef laughs into the mic. “Ha! So he was telling the truth? I’m glad I lied about you, then. Enjoy the repercussions of my actions, you deviant food freak.”
I place the mic back into its holder. Then I turn to look at the two of them. “There you have it, straight from the jackass’s mouth. He lied to Blayne, and then Blayne tried to destroy me. Probably to throw suspicion away from him.”
Ice Pick drops into the passenger’s seat.
He places his elbows on his knees and his large melon head in his hands.
“I didn’t want to believe it was you, but I don’t want to believe it’s him, either.
I don’t think he’d do something like that.
Not now, of all times. He’s always been the one to watch over Charity when I had to go on the road. ”
Josie and I share a look.
“How long had the two of you been dating?” she asks. “And how often were Charity and Blayne left alone?”
“We were together for almost three months, and he looked after her for more than half that time, but I’m telling y’all, it wasn’t like you’re thinking. Whenever she tried to cheat on me, he’d punish her.”
“Punish her how?” I ask.
Ice Pick rubs his chin and looks up at the ceiling.
“One time she had welts all over her ass because he had to paddle her hide for flirting with the mailman. Another time, he left bruises on her throat from choking her, but she really shouldn’t have let the next-door neighbor watch her take off her underthings.
The choking was consensual, by the way. He was kind enough to let her pick her punishment. ”
I think I’ve heard enough.
“Well, you’ve certainly given me a lot to think about, Ice Pick. I’d prefer if you kept what happened between us. For now, allow Blayne to believe I’m still suspect enough, and don’t mention what you overheard between Chef Maurice and me, understood?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, King,” he says. “You’ll help me figure this out, won’t you?”
I hold out my hand. “Just remember to keep this between us, and you have my word.”
In fact, I think I’ve already figured it out. And if I’m lucky, the plan forming in my mind will prove my suspicions correct in front of everyone.