Picnic in Someday Valley (Honey Creek #2)(52)

“Kerrie can’t go out to help her grandpa unless I tag along. She can’t get behind the wheel of her little car anymore. We got a baby coming any day now. Seems like all I do lately is watch her incubate.”

The phone rang. Pecos answered and started taking notes.

“Will do,” he finally said and hung up. “Mind the store, Marcie. I have to give this to Rip.”

She could barely hear them talking. Pecos said there was a wreck between Clifton Bend and Honey Creek, but still in the sheriff’s county. Two state troopers were at the scene, but they needed a deputy to take care of a few drunks trying to direct traffic.

She thought she heard Rip cuss as his boots stomped toward the door.

When Rip reached for his coat, he turned and yelled, “If it’s that one-winged Joey Hattly causing the trouble again, I swear I’m going to run over him on my way to the wreck.”

Marcie fought down a giggle. If Joey was the town drunk in Clifton Bend, he was doing double duty.

She glanced at the huge wall clock. Three more hours and she could fall asleep. She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she’d slept. She didn’t care if her new bed was a rock, she planned to curl up and dream a while.

Half an hour later, Rip called in on the office line. The wreck was between two cars packed with teenagers. Four were not hurt, and one of the troopers was driving them to the sheriff’s office so LeRoy could call their parents. Four were headed to the clinic with minor injuries, and two ran.

Pecos flipped the phone to speaker. Rip’s voice came through loud and clear. “We’ve got our hands full with the ones in the back of our cars. When it settles down I’ll circle back and pick up the runners. By then they’ll be walking back to town freezing their tails off.” He hesitated, then added, “Wake the sheriff. He’ll want to call the parents.”

“Will do,” Pecos said.

About the time Rip hung up, two state troopers herded four yelling, cussing fifteen-or sixteen-year-olds into the office.

“Pick up the paperwork from the troopers and try to get them settled down before the sheriff gets here,” Pecos said to her.

Marcie squared her shoulders and tried to act like she knew what she was doing. The paperwork was easy, but getting them to settle down was impossible. One was crying and kept saying her parents were going to kill her. Two boys were yelling at each other and one of the girls swore she had to have a smoke.

LeRoy’s booming voice almost shattered the windows as he hit the door. “Quiet! I should be asleep but, no, I can hear you babies cussing from the parking lot. Thanks to you pups it’ll be another hour or two before I can go back to sleep, so my patience is short. Shut up and sit down.”

They all plopped down on the long bench and stared at the sheriff like he was mean as the devil.

LeRoy marched in front of them. “If you four don’t remain silent, unless I ask you a question, I’ll lock you up for the night. We only have the drunk tank available, and it hasn’t been mopped. You’ll be standing in ankle-deep vomit and piss till dawn.” He pointed to the back door. “We haven’t got anyone back there tonight, so no one has turned on the heat, but the rats never complain.”

One of the two girls started crying. A boy who didn’t look like he shaved yet threw up in the trash can.

The sheriff handed Marcie a clipboard. “Get their names, addresses, and parents’ numbers. I’m about to ruin some folks’ night.” He looked at the four perched on a bench like crows on a line, but he spoke to the crying girl. “You four are the lucky ones. You’re not at the clinic. It’s a bloody mess over there.”

Marcie remembered those wild high school days when she thought she was invincible.

As she moved down the line collecting information, she watched them lose their attitude as it sank into each one what had happened and what was about to happen when their parents arrived.

Only the last girl on the row remained silent. She looked angry.

“Your name?” Marcie asked.

“Star Summers.”

“Address.”

“I live behind the only bakery in town. At 101 Fourth Street.”

“Parents’ names?”

“They’re dead. I live with my sister, Adalee Summers. She’s going to be madder than hell, again. She screams and cries every time I do anything, but I know she doesn’t want me around. She just got stuck with me.”

Marcie knew how Star felt. She’d been that kid no one really wanted around.





Chapter 32


Colby


Colby stayed late at the office researching Brand Rodgers. Nothing. The man really was a ghost. He found a Honey Creek high school graduation picture. He’d been in ROTC in high school and joined the Marines after a year of college. He made about fifty thousand a year selling a special breed of quarter horses. That wasn’t enough to keep a small ranch running, so Brand either had a trust fund or the guy had a business on the side. He had a few credit cards he never used except to buy books on the Internet.

Marcie, on the other hand, had lots on the Internet. In her early twenties she’d been in a band, even played at a few bars in Nashville. Her brother had been arrested a few times, but hadn’t served any time. Her dad was dead and her mother’s last address was in Denver. Not-so-dear-old mom had listed her occupation on an online dating site as bartender. Marcie’s runaway mom had listed her age as forty-one, which would have made her ten or eleven when she had Marcie.