Breath of Scandal(81)

Over the years he had tried to reason with her about it. "You don't understand!" she would scream at him. "If we don't have a baby, then there's no reason for us to be together. " He failed to see the logic in that, but didn't pursue the argument because it always resulted in a fight that left him feeling rotten. He figured it was a female hormonal thing that men weren't equipped to understand. His own mother had suffered from the same malady because she had wanted more kids.

At least once a week, Donna Dee came home from work with an article about a new reproductive technique for infertile couples. Invariably, the revolutionary method of fertilization would involve him in some demeaning and embarrassing way.

Either they would screw until his balls ached, or he'd have to jack off in a plastic bag, or she would walk around with a then-nometer in her mouth, and when the time was right, she would say, "Now," and he'd have to perform whether it was the middle of the night or during Sunday lunch. Once she had even caught him while he was taking a crap and had_ knocked on the bathroom door, saying, "Don't bother pulling your pants back on. It's time." He thought her tactics hardly romantic.

Hutch supposed he shouldn't be judgmental of her obsession. He wasn't the one who was malfunctioning. His sperm count was fine. Every doctor they had consulted had said the same thing: Donna Dee couldn't make a baby. But Donna Dee was damned and determined to make one. It was as though she had to prove to the world, to him, and to herself that she could. What he feared was that her baby mania had something to do with the Jade Sperry incident. He didn't want to know for certain that guilt was Donna Dee's propellant, so he had never suggested it.

Neal drained his glass of bourbon and set it on the edge of the coffee table. "You married too early, Hutch. Didn't I tell you so? But you wouldn't listen. Now you're stuck at home with a wife who's got a buff up her ass, and I'm still out catting around. " He smacked his lips with satisfaction. "A different * every night." Leaning forward, he lowered his voice. "Come along with me tonight. We'll raise some hell, just like old times. I can't think of a more befitting send-off for our pal Lamar."

"No, thanks. I promised Donna Dee we'd go to the picture show."

"Too bad." With a sigh, Neal got up and sauntered to the door. Hutch ambled after him. "By the way," Neal said, "my old man told me to ask after your mama. How's she doing?"



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Sandra Brown



Breath of Scandal



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"As well as can be expected. She finally sold the house and got her a smaller place. She does a lot of work at the church, filling time, you know, since she doesn't have Daddy to take care of."

A year earlier, Sheriff Fritz Jolly had been investigating a burned-out building when a beam collapsed. The fall had broken his hip. He was hospitalized for months. Even after returning home, he never regained his original strength and developed one complication after another until he died of an infection.

"Tell her my daddy said that if she needs anything to holler. "

"Thanks, Neal. I'll give her the message. She'll appreciate it."

"Looking after her is the least he can do. Your daddy did a lot of favors for mine. You know . . . " He reached out and tapped the pocket of Hutch's shirt. "it never hurts to have an open-minded man in the sheriff's department. How well do you like working in the factory?"

"It stinks like shit."

Neal chuckled and lightly socked Hutch on the shoulder. "Let me see what I can do."

Hutch grabbed Neal's sleeve as he tried to leave. "What do you mean?"

Neal removed Hutch's hand. "Better go see to your old lady. Apologize for your prick of a friend. I've never run across a woman yet who didn't cream over an apology."

Hutch shook his large, rusty head like an irritated dog. "Tell me what you meant about my job at the plant." Neal frowned as though he were reluctant to impart a



secret. Lowering his voice, he said, "It's time somebody did some creative thinking for you, Hutch. The sheriff who took office after your daddy died is so tight-assed, he squeaks when he walks. My daddy thinks the department needs some new blood. Now do you see what I'm getting at?"

"Me?" Hutch said, lowering his voice to match Neal's conspiratorial tone.

Neal smiled broadly. "Think how tickled your grieving



mama would be if you followed in your daddy's footsteps - "

"I applied for a deputy's position when I left the navy. They weren't hiring."

Neal placed his hands on his hips and shook his head as though annoyed with a dim-witted child. "Your problem is that you've got no faith, Hutch. Have the Patchetts ever failed to do something we wanted to do? A word here, a word there-we can make things happen."

"Having a better job would sure make things here at home a lot easier." Hutch glanced toward the back of the house, where Donna Dee was sulking. "I'd do just about anything to get into the sheriff's department."

Neal gave him a sly smile and slapped him lightly on the cheek. "That's what we're counting on, Hutch. That's what we're counting on."

Ivan was relaxing in his den with a glass of Jack Daniels when Neal got home. He strolled in and headed straight for the liquor cabinet. Maintaining the suspense, he fixed himself a drink.