Front Line Francis, page 53
“What the hell?” I tried to yell, but the bass was pumping too loud for anyone to hear me.
The tires squealed and the van shot off like a rocket, and I fell back into one of the seats.
“Who’s ready to par-tay?” Rosemarie asked. Her voice was amplified through a mic. Between the music and all the hoots and hollers in answer to Rosemarie’s question, I was in my own personal kind of hell. I was not a party animal. I was a ‘sit against the wall and watch other people be party animals’ kind of person.
All of a sudden, the bag was jerked off my head and a bright light was flashed in my eyes.
“Are you ready?” Scarlet asked.
“Ready for what?”
“I said, are you ready?” she yelled, sounding like a drill sergeant.
I was trying to look around to see who all was in the van, but the bright light had limited my vision. All I could hear was the bass and Rosemarie singing show tunes into the mic, and occasionally giving a play-by-play of what was happening on the streets like we were on one of those Hollywood tour buses.
“Maybe you should give her a little space,” I heard my mother say. “She’s got that little wrinkle between her brow that she gets whenever she’s irritated.”
“I know it well,” my sister said. “Usually when the wrinkle appears her fists start flying. She chipped one of my teeth once.”
“No, I didn’t,” I said. “You tripped and bumped your chin against the bar.”
“Because you punched me,” she said.
“Can someone turn that down?” I asked. “I can’t hear myself think.”
“That’s the point,” Scarlet said. “We’ve got to keep you confused and disoriented. Spy school 101.”
“This is supposed to be my bachelorette party.”
“Huh,” she said. “I hadn’t heard anything about that. All I heard was detain and blindfold.”
“Where are we going?” I asked as loudly as I could.
“It’s a surprise,” Kate said from the front seat. “All I know is that I’m getting drunk. Loosen up a little. You’re getting married.”
I hadn’t had a chance to tell her we no longer had a preacher to marry us. In fact, I’d barely spoken to Kate all week, but from the few things she had said, I was guessing court was a nightmare.
“How come you look like one of those mannequins?” Scarlet asked, flashing the light in my face again.
I grabbed the light out of her hand and turned it off. “Because I have two black eyes and I had to practically use varnish to cover it up. No thanks to you.”
“Me?” Scarlet asked. “You don’t have the sense that God gave a jackrabbit. Can’t you tell when someone is getting skittish and about to start throwing punches? It’s like you haven’t learned anything I’ve taught you.”
It turns out I had some unresolved anger toward Aunt Scarlet. I was about to get married and I looked like the Corpse Bride.
“Well you certainly didn’t teach me to swing banjos at people or pull out your weapon like Dirty Harry and wave it around. I’m not a cop. I can’t do that stuff.”
“That’s true,” Kate said. “We’re not allowed to do that stuff.”
“Well, thank goodness you’re not a cop,” Scarlet said. “You’d be a terrible cop. Cops are too friendly now. I miss the old days. Like Eliot Ness. You think Eliot Ness would give two hoots if he was supposed to arrest a criminal or not? You don’t have the instinct. The gut always knows. Besides, I made a citizen’s arrest. I can do that.”
“Right, which is why you whacked her and ran out the door before the cops could show up,” I said.
“I had an appointment,” Scarlet said.
I knew something was different about Scarlet, but things had been too confusing once I’d gotten in the van to piece it together.
“What happened to your hair?” I asked.
“All those extensions got too heavy. I could barely hold my head up, and when I ran out of that pawn shop I snagged it on one of those planter hooks they attach to the light posts. Thought I’d ripped the whole thing plum off my head. Hurt like the dickens.”
That didn’t explain why she looked like she’d stolen Sharon Osbourne’s hair. It was fire-engine-red and sticking out in all directions.
“This here’s a wig,” she said, pulling off the hair to reveal a skull cap underneath. “I’ve decided this is the way to go. Then I can wear different hair every day. It’s like changing your underpants, only people can see it.”
“I haven’t heard this story about banjos and black eyes,” Kate said from the front. “Am I going to get sued for something?”
“It’s still up in the air,” I said. “But be glad Scarlet doesn’t work for you or the answer to that question might be a little different.”
“I don’t work for anyone,” Scarlet said. “I’m like my own government. When you get to be my age you realize nobody has a lick a sense and that you don’t really care about what people think or why they want to talk about themselves so much. When it comes down to it, people are pretty boring. Just do your own thing, man, and have fun.”
“Spoken like a true stoner,” Phoebe said, laughing.
My mother gasped and narrowed her eyes at Scarlet. “Were those your rolling papers in my bathroom?”
Scarlet put her hair back on and finally took a seat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Phyllis. You accusing me of something?”
“Who wants booze?” Rosemarie yelled into the mic, and everyone but me raised their hands in the air and made excited hoots and hollers.
“Are we there yet?” my mother asked. “I didn’t get a chance to eat today. Do you think they have fondue?”
“It’s not 1977,” Aunt Scarlet said. “Nobody has fondue. What Addison needs is some oysters. That’ll get those ovaries in good shape for the wedding night. You’ve got to prep for a good wedding night. Like stretching. Otherwise you tap out too soon and no one has fun. I should write a book. I could help a lot of people with my knowledge.”
“Yeah, it’d be a real service to the community,” my mother said.
“We’re here,” Rosemarie sang into the mic.
I looked out the window as we pulled into the parking lot of a huge wooden barn. There was a huge flashing sign that said Bucking Bronco’s and a picture of a cowboy roping a steer next to it.
“Is this a steak house?” my mother asked.
“Yep, they serve beef all right,” Scarlet said. “Let’s get this party started.”
“I thought we were checking out a band,” I said to Rosemarie.
“We are,” she said. “They come on at ten o’clock after the main entertainment.”
She parked the van in two parking spots and we all filed out. It wasn’t until I had two feet on the ground and looked around at our ragtag group that I realized Lucy was with us. It’s like she’d just appeared out of nowhere.
“We need a group picture,” my mother said. “Something to commemorate this night.”
Kate leaned over and whispered, “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to have any proof this night ever happened.”
I wasn’t familiar with Bucking Bronco’s. I didn’t even know what city we were in. But I knew without a doubt that I needed to stay sober as a judge. We all followed Rosemarie to the entrance where the bouncer was checking IDs. He was a huge black man with a bald head and muscles that didn’t fit inside his sleeves. And he took one look at us, and a grin split his face from ear to ear.
He ushered us all in without looking at a single ID, and Scarlet gave him a complicated handshake as she walked by.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” she said as I came up beside her. “I’ve got a weakness for bald black men. You might be minus one before the night is over.”
I sighed. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Fifteen
Rosemarie checked us in with the hostess and she showed us to the coat check area. It was then I really got a good look at everyone, and I wondered how we all existed on the same planet, much less in the same group.
My mother was wearing red harem pants and a matching top with sheer sleeves. Her hair was piled up on top of her head and giant gold earrings dangled from her ears. My sister was in her standard torn jeans and she wore a crazy top that had a lot of zippers and angles, and managed to look incredibly sexy at the same time.
Then there was Lucy. She stood off to the side, apart from the group, and she was scanning the crowd. She wore black leather pants—the real kind—and I had a feeling there was no stretch in them like mine. She also wore a black leather top that zipped up the back. I wondered who zipped it for her. Maybe she was married. Maybe she lived in a coven. I had absolutely no idea. But I was willing to bet she was carrying at least six different weapons.
Kate was dressed like Kate always dressed. She wore the black slacks she’d had on in court and a pinstriped, button-up blouse. Her only effort to look more relaxed was that she wasn’t wearing the matching suit coat. Then there was Scarlet with her Sharon Osbourne hair and a white jumpsuit with a rhinestone belt hanging low on her hips. The look might have looked sexy on someone sixty years younger who didn’t have the body of a soup chicken, but she looked like a cross between old Elvis and Evel Knievel.
Rosemarie was always a wildcard. She liked to dress for specific occasions, and I guess since we were at Bucking Bronco’s, she figured slutty cowgirl was the way to go. All I could think was that she must be freezing in her rhinestone boots. She wore a mini denim skirt that barely covered her backside, and a halter top made of western plaid with the little pearl buttons up the front. Only Rosemarie was generous in the bosom area, so her buttons weren’t buttoned.
“Good Lord,” Scarlet said, looking at Rosemarie. “I didn’t know it was a full moon tonight.”
The hostess came back to us and looked a little wild-eyed as she tried to figure out who was best to make eye contact with. And then she told us to follow her. The music was louder, and the place smelled of beer, sweat, and meat. I swallowed and tried to breathe through my mouth, but sweat broke out on my forehead. I was hoping it didn’t cause streams of makeup to pour from my face.
“We’re VIPs,” my mother said excitedly, clapping her hands.
“And we’re right by the Bucking Bronco,” Scarlet said. “I’ve been known to go eight seconds a time or two in my day. How do you think my fourth husband died?”
Our VIP section was cordoned off with a red velvet rope and it was right in front of the stage. The stage was divided into three sections and big red curtains were down over each one, so no one could see what was going on behind the scenes. Muscled waiters wearing Wranglers, no shirts, and cowboy hats carried trays filled with beer and steaks.
I felt the gorge rise in my throat again and swallowed rapidly. Our table was shaped like a horseshoe so none of the chairs had their backs to the stage. Before I knew what was happening a sash was put over my head and Rosemarie was pinning a tiara to my head. They put me right in the center of the horseshoe.
I didn’t like surprises. I liked being in control. I also liked things that smelled good and cleanliness, but I was overruled. Before I knew what was happening shots were brought to the table and I watched in fascination as everyone did the first one, just to take the edge off. Even Lucy. I was guessing Rosemarie forgot she was going to be the designated chauffeur because she did her shot and then ordered another round.
It wasn’t too long before I was sitting at the table by myself with a glass of water and a pounding headache. Scarlet had disappeared, and I had a feeling she was sizing up the bouncer. And Rosemarie was riding the Bronco like she’d been doing it her whole life. And everyone was getting a free show because straddling a bronco in a tiny denim skirt doesn’t leave a lot of room for modesty.
My phone buzzed and I picked up on the first ring when I saw it was Savage.
“Please tell me you need me for something,” I said.
“That sounds like a trap,” he said. “Is the wedding still on?”
“I’m at my bachelorette party.”
“That explains all the ‘yee-haws’ I’m hearing in the background.”
“It’s hard to explain,” I said.
“It almost always is with you. I’m heading to Whiskey Bayou tomorrow. Want to go with me?”
“I’m assuming it’s not just a casual visit because you love the area,” I said.
“I need to ask Pastor Charles some questions. I figured it’s better to surprise him than give him a heads-up his cover’s been blown.”
“Sure, my calendar is clear in the morning.”
The lights started flashing over the stage areas, and the curtains on the smaller stage on the right opened up, revealing the band.
“Wooooooooooo!” Rosemarie yelled right next to my ear. She’d snuck up on me. “That’s them,” she said, whacking me on the shoulder. “That’s your wedding band!”
“Don’t you dare laugh,” I told Savage. I put a finger in my other ear so I could hear him.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at the office.”
I hung up the phone and looked up at Rosemarie. She was still on her feet cheering on the band and my mother was on the other side of her.
“I didn’t think you were ever getting off that bronco,” I told her.
“Me either,” she said. She’d picked up a pink cowboy hat somewhere along the way and she scooted it back so she could see me better. “My thighs kept sticking to the saddle and I couldn’t get off. They had to bring over some talcum powder from the pool table and throw it between my legs. It looks like I’ve been snorting cocaine through my vagina down there.”
I willed myself not to look, but I was sitting almost at eye level. She was right. There was a lot of powder on those thighs. It was about that time that the band went into a raucous version of “Bump and Grind” by R. Kelly, and the curtains hiding the other two stages opened to screams all around the room.
A line of men wearing nothing but chaps and cowboy hats walked onto the stage and began to dance. Rosemarie was screaming and pounding on my shoulder, and my mother was standing on a chair. All the waiters who’d been delivering drinks had put down their trays and now they were dancing in the aisles.
“I’m really impressed by the choreography,” Kate said, taking the seat beside me.
“That’s what you’re impressed by?” I asked.
Her shirt was mussed and unbuttoned and she had the glassy-eyed stare of someone who’d had too much to drink. I goggled as she took another shot of tequila that was on the table and then sucked on a lime.
“What’s going on?” I asked, nudging her as she shoved some dollar bills into our dancing waiter’s jockstrap.
“I’m thinking about selling the agency,” she said.
I sat up straight at this bit of news and tried to wave away the gyrating flesh that was entirely too close to my face, but he was persistent since Kate was still holding money in her hand.
I grabbed it from her and shoved it into his pants and said, “Go away.” And he shrugged and moved on to the next table of women.
“What do you mean you’re thinking of selling? I thought you loved the agency.”
Kate shrugged and slugged down another shot of tequila. “I’m just tired of it all. I built it up and it’s all mine. And don’t get me wrong, the money is nice. But I’m not sure it’s worth dealing with the bullshit. Like this trial this week. These complete scumbags get on the stand and try to shred my reputation, and they don’t care. They’re scumbags. And that’s who we deal with. Every day. All day. It’ll never change.”
“Well,” I said. “It’s not like that’s a surprise. That’s why people hire us. To catch the scumbags red-handed.”
“I think I just need a change of pace. A change of scenery. Everything is under a lot of strain. And I mean everything.”
A few months back Kate had discovered her husband, Mike, had a gambling addiction. From what I could tell, they’d both been working on their marriage, but Kate was pretty closed-lipped about her personal life. Even with me.
“What does your gut tell you?” I asked.
She took a deep breath and then let it out and said in a rush, “That if our marriage is going to survive then we need a change. I need to sell the agency. Mike needs to transfer to another department or retire altogether. And we need to leave here and start over.”
It felt like I’d been kicked in the gut. Kate had been my best friend since we were in diapers. I’d never known a life without her in it.
“What does Mike say?” I asked.
She sniffled and I could see tears gather in the corners of her eyes. Kate never cried. “He says he’ll do whatever it takes to make it work.”
“Then that’s what you’ve got to do,” I said. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears when Kate started crying. I was a sympathetic crier. We hugged each other and cried through at least two of the numbers.
“The band is pretty good,” Kate finally said.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I wonder if the strippers come with them? I’m not sure Whiskey Bayou is ready for that kind of reception.”
“If you’re going to go out,” she said, “go out with a bang. Kind of like Scarlet did when she was shipped off to France. No one has ever forgotten her.”
Boy, was that the truth.
“We have a good tribe,” I said. “Weird. But good. Where’s Lucy? I was surprised to see her with us.”
“She’s probably checking on some things. She owns this place. It’s how we got the VIP seats.”
My mouth dropped open. “Someday you’re going to have to tell me about Lucy.”
“Not much to tell,” Kate said. “She’s worked for me almost since the beginning. Savage introduced us.”
“You’ve known Savage that long? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why would I? We worked together from time to time. It wasn’t a big deal. And he never seemed like your type. Besides, he and Lucy were dating at the time. That would’ve been weird.”
