Mean Streak(43)

She had started to cry and had been so distraught, he’d given her his word that he wouldn’t tell her mother, but he had impressed on her that if she was in that much pain, she should be seen by a doctor. Either he would drive her or she could call nine-one-one. “The EMTs will keep it confidential. They have to. They’re professionals.”

She wouldn’t hear of it. That’s when he’d offered to bring medical help to her. Knowing what the frightened girl had suffered—and continued to—physically as well as emotionally, her brother Will’s “knocked up” remark infuriated him. He curbed the impulse to yank the younger Floyd off the sofa by his stringy hair and throw him through the window.

He asked, “How old is Lisa?”

Will shrugged and looked over at Norman. “How old is she? Fourteen?”

“Fifteen.”

Will turned back to him. “Fifteen.”

“She and your mother seem to have a close relationship.”

“You know women,” Norman said with a snort. “They stick together.”

“Then why is Lisa living with relatives in Drakeland?”

“None of your friggin’ business,” Will said.

Norman replied more civilly. “Better schools down there.”

“Lisa’s in high school?”

“’Course,” Norman said. “What do you think, she’s a retard or something?”

“I was just wondering if the father of the baby she lost is as young as she is.”

“She works at a Subway on weekends,” Will said. “Who knows who all she’s f*cked.” He took another slurp of beer, eyeing him over the top of the can as though hoping he would take umbrage.

He did, but he kept his expression impassive and addressed his next question to Norman. “Have you lived here all your lives?”

“Yep. Well, ’cept for a time a few years ago. Me and Will heard about work up in Virginia. Went up there for a spell.”

“How’d that go?”

Norman scratched his armpit. “Not so good. No sooner got there than the economy went to shit. We both got laid off.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Not really. Mama wanted us back home, and anyway Virginia ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“What kind of work did you do up there?”

Norman’s eyes narrowed. “What’s it to you? In fact, what’s with all the questions about our family?”

“Just making friendly conversation.”

“Well, make it about something else.”

Will said, “What we need is a change of subject.” He snapped his fingers. “I know. Let’s talk about you.”

The feral gleam in the younger Floyd’s eye put him on guard, but he kept his tone neutral. “What about me?”

“How come you keep so to yourself?”

“I like my privacy.”

“You like your privacy,” Will repeated, as though pondering the reply. “You a homo?”

Norman snickered then laughed behind his fist. Will gave his brother a self-congratulatory wink.

He let their levity run its course, then said, “No, Will, I’m straight. Sorry. I hate to disappoint you.”

It took a few seconds for Will to process the implication. When he did, he lunged off the sofa and came lumbering toward him. Norman stuck out his booted foot and planted it directly in his brother’s path. Will tripped over it and fell face first onto the filthy rug. He came up hurling curses. Norman physically restrained him.

“Calm down, Will. He’s just egging you on. And you asked for it, after all.”

Will’s stream of profanity continued as he tried to wrestle free of his more level-headed brother. Pauline came in to see what the commotion was about, but after taking in what must be a familiar scene, she slunk back into the kitchen unnoticed.

While Norman was still trying to talk Will out of ripping his f*cking head off, the door behind him opened. Emory glanced toward the wrangling brothers, but another problem superseded them. Low but insistently, she said, “I need to talk to you.”

Keeping his eye on the Floyds, he backed into the bedroom and shut the door, then dragged a straight chair over to it and secured it beneath the doorknob. He didn’t need to ask about Lisa. Emory’s demeanor spoke volumes.

She said, “This isn’t a miscarriage.”

He glanced toward the bed, where Lisa lay, crying softly. Emory had stripped the surgical gloves from her hands. She was holding them inside out, but he saw that the fingers of them were stained dark. “Then what’s the matter with her?”

“She’s in labor.”





Chapter 15



Jeff read the name of the caller on his cell phone and considered not answering. Speaking to Alice directly wasn’t the best of ideas. But then, everyone knew her to be a friend to him and Emory as a couple. Naturally she would be worried and calling him for information and to offer every means of support.

He clicked on. “Hi.”

“Jeff, what the hell is going on?”

“Emory is missing.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. It’s already gone viral on social media.”

“Shit. The clinic staff?”